Seasons

It's fall, Y'all.  We finally have an autumn filled with golds and reds and bronzes.

Yay!

I stand in my garage with the door opened wide and watch the rain come down. Red wine in hand to accompany the chill of the season.

Garage, you say? Why am I in the garage?

I'm sneaking a smoke.

Sneaking?

Really?

It's just me and Big Daddy.  He who knows I partake of the occasional Camel Menthol Silver.

Old habits.

It's unseasonable warm.  The gray mist and sodden downpour would lead you to believe that it is cold. ...lead you to believe that what has arrived is that damp, bone-chilling cold that only comes when the Ozarks can't decide what season it is.

This lovely change in the weather made me think of you all.

I used to frequent these hallowed halls...anxious to inform you of the minutiae of my day, breathless with excitement to describe the weather in my cozy neck of the woods.

But I left.

Then I noticed everyone else left, too.  I don't mean you left my halls, although you did.  Why stop by if nobody is home?

But I noticed that you left your halls, too.

I still keep my feeds up to date.  I thrill when someone updates their blog.

But, I never comment.

Why? ...I dunno.

Maybe because I am a relic from another time.  A time when this type of forum was robust and fun and new.  I felt like a part of a community.  I felt like a dorky kid who had gotten to eat lunch at the cool kids' table.

I know I would be thrilled to hear a comment from a beloved voice of seasons past.

So I now vow, that when a favorite dusty blog on my feed resurfaces, I will comment.

I will comment just to say, "Hey!  How are you?  I have missed you so.  So glad to know all is well in your world."

I will comment because what they once said mattered to me.  It brought me joy and happiness and a sense of community.  ...it still does.

I miss you all so very much and hope you are well.

And with that...my grainy iPhone photo from the garage, or also known as Big's House of Smoke.

Moving Out

There are somethings that are too personal to post on Facebook.  Things that should be written about, but not for the viewing public.

Big moved out today.

Was it time?  Of course.  He has planned, saved money, and now he doing what everyone does when it is time to leave the nest.

He called me while I was pulling into the hotel.  I'm out of town you see.  I will be for the next three weeks.  He called to let me know he had moved the majority of his things and just called to ask about some vinyl he wanted and whether or not he could have them.

So I let him have Frampton Comes Alive, but I wouldn't part with my Styx albums.

Then I started to cry.

For the first time.

Through this whole process I have been upbeat, excited, and ready to refurbish his room, yet today I teared up.

Why?

Well for one, I'm not there.  I should be.  I wouldn't really be much help, but I could stand in the doorway of his bedroom with my hands on my hips and look stern while he tried to leave with something he shouldn't.

I could try being depressed because he'll be on his own.  But he won't.  He's moving in with his partner.  A handsome, charming young man that I will refer to as Axl  Rose.  ...for reasons he will understand.  This young man thinks my big bear hung the moon and loves him to distraction.

For this I am thankful.

When Big asked for new sheets as a housewarming I teared up again.

We chatted about this and that and then he told me he loved me and we hung up the phone.

Then I broke down.  Right there in my car in the parking lot of the Embassy Suites.  I cried that big, ugly, nasty cry that caused snot to fling and eyes to redden.

So when get back home, Little will be in his sophomore dorm room, Big will be in his new apartment, and Big Daddy and I will listen to the echo of empty rooms.

I hear them in my head already.

I think I'll pour a glass of wine and break down again.

Empty Nest

We had a snow day today.

Big Daddy and I spent the day watching Ben Affleck free American hostages in Iran and James Bond  usher in a new 'M'.  We drank red wine and ate ham and beans with corn bread.

I cannot remember the last time that happened.

Utterly and entirely satisfactory.  

Screw that.  

Joyous!

Why the melancholy?

Because it was a snow day.

...and there were no piles of wet clothes in the laundry room, no homemade cocoa, no deep-voiced laughs coming from over excited teenage boys playing Rock Band and Halo in the living room.

These days were always expected.  I have blogged in days past about my dread of their coming.  

Alas the circle of life. 

So back to my red wine and beans.  Maybe another movie.

...and cocoa.  Yeah.  Adult cocoa.

Baileys or Kahlua?

March 22, 2012-Goodbye, Granny!

I come 'round here every so often.  This dusty blog of mine.  I found this loitering in my drafts and I was horrified that I never actually posted it. 

For now almost a year has flown by.

This is a post to honor my dear, sweet, cantankerous Granny Smith.

She left us yesterday.  Ninety. Three. Years. Old.

Goodness.

Every single one of those 93 years she was on death's door quick with a 'Baby, I've never hurt so bad.'

A finer lady was never born.

...but thankfully she wasn't perfect.  She was funny, difficult, irreverent, and a pain in the butt.

And I loved every round, square inch of her.

In case you didn't get to know her, below are some conversations of yore.

http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2007/07/heading-south.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2007/08/granny.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2007/09/granny.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2007/11/granny-3.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2008/01/sweet-thoughts.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2008/01/stretching.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2008/08/hey-granny.html
http://mosugarbritches.blogspot.com/2008/10/another-conversation-with-gram.html

A January Night

It is a cold, clear night here in the Ozarks.

I left my vodka tonic on the coffee table to escape outside to the deck.  The dogs were kickin' up a fuss and when I stepped outside, I realized why.

The moon.

Lawsie.

I'm going to take a moment.

...
...
...

Full.  Bright.  Incandescent.

Orion is jealous. How dare she steal his spotlight in the winter sky!

I see my breath escape in a gasp of wonderment.

I don't preach from a pulpit nor from my blog, but I'm telling you...seeing that wondrous gift, I felt ministered to.

I sit here on the gray metal deck chair.  The cold seeping through my night gown.  The stillness is as piercing and as dear to me as the screeching of pond frogs in spring.

I should do this more often.

Looking Back

I was going to rant in this post.

Local radio stations have been playing Wham's 'Last Christmas' on a continual loop.

For God's sake!  It's been playing non-stop since October.

...the video is hysterical, though.

See, I love Christmas music.  I was looking back through all of my posts looking for a playlist of my favorites to reference.  I just knew I had one.

Couldn't find it.

But as I was looking for that, I found myself stopping to read some old posts.

Was that me?  Did I write that stuff? 

Are you kidding? It's unrecognizable.

Is that weird?

Have any of you had this experience or is it just me?

Just me you say?

Figured.

Still...I feel like a stranger to myself.

...and for some reason, it makes me kinda sad.

A Text

I got a text from Big this morning.

All it said was, "You're the best you know that?"

Sigh.

I've had a smile on my face all day.

See, Big and I fight.  I mean really fight.  We have these huge verbal smack downs.  When we're done, we look at each other in amazement.  Where did that come from?  What was THAT all about?

At long last though we've found each other's hot buttons and agree not to punch them.

Interesting.

I texted him back and told him he wasn't so bad himself.

He's actually Pretty. Darned. Awesome!

A Yum Run

Finally, legalized 'shine in the Ozarks.

What's that?  You assumed that we've been able to buy good corn liquor all this time here in our fair hills?

Nope.  We had to come by our hooch the old fashioned way.  ...in the sink.

But this fine fella has found a way to distill a product that is far superior to garden variety back yard corn squeezin's.

And it's a great place to while away a cold winter afternoon.

Big Daddy and I know.  We've been there a time or 20.

A Little PR

Little isn't so little anymore.

He's an amazing young man.  As a senior in high school he has shown ambition, leadership, and compassion all while courting the most special of young women.

He has a mountainous goal for this summer.    There is little doubt he will make it to the top.

Phantom Regiment will be fortunate to have this awesome Tuba player in their brass line.

This is a taste of what he experienced last weekend in Rockford, Il.  We go back in three weeks for the next step.

Chicago here we come!

Watch!

Redneck Sunday Night

Ribs.

They've been cooking low and slow all day.  Big Daddy knows his way around a slab of ribs

We buttered some corn an hour or so ago and put them along side.

I think I'll pour myself a cocktail.  I'll sit outside and smell the meat cooking.  While I'm there I'll watch the storm come in. I can feel it.  The wind has picked up and is blowing the humidity out of the air.

You know what?  Big is home tonight, too.

So why am I sitting her posting for the first time in a coon's age when I could be outside visiting with him?

Hmmm?

Exactly.

I'm outta here.

...Sigh

I got one of these framed for Mother's Day. 

Perfect and tear producing.

Big was born on Mother's day.  ...as some of you know.

1991.

Little is no longer little.

1993.

Both equally handsome and dashing and charming and smart and talented and wonderful and funny and awe-inspiring.

...yet totally, completely and utterly different.

How is that possible?

Yet, isn't that fantastic?

.
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Shuler-Photography/105497456153886?ref=ts&v=wall

Check him out!

Baby,You Can Drive My Car

Little took off for school tonight in the car.

Fine.

However he's used to driving the Blazer, which is an automatic and the Dodge is a manual.

Yeah.  See?

I am a goofin' bundle of nerves.  My neck is as tight as a nun's knees.  He ground a least a pound trying to find reverse to get out of the driveway.

I can't fault the bubba.  I remember learning how to drive a manual.  ...it wasn't pretty.

But...once you learn, it is forever.  I can get behind the wheel of a 5 speed and go to town.  (literally and figuratively)  There is something so big and bad about shifting gears.  When I got proficient, I felt so tough and powerful, hot and sexy! Roaring along in my...in my...gulp...

Geo Metro.

Don't you judge me!

When Big starting driving, I didn't have near this amount of angst.  Maybe it's cuz Little is the baby, but I have consumed a record amount of vodka since he's been driving.  I just know he'll be maimed and/or killed in a hideous wreck.

He is a good driver. He's been driving for almost a year now and he's more careful than Big, but Big always looked at home behind the wheel.  Little looks like an uptight little old man.  ...and kinda drives like one, God love him.

So I sit on the sofa, cuticles bloody.  Vodka and tonic in hand.  Prayers on my Absolute breath.

School is only a mile or so away and since I haven't heard sirens, I assume he still among the living and the little Dodge is still in one piece.

...as is he.

Sweeter Words...

...I have never heard.  Random quotes this evening while watching Life on Discovery.

Little- Don't be a fool, wrap your tool.

Big-Wrap it before you tap it.

Chase-Don't be silly, wrap your willy.


I am heaving out huge sighs of Mom relief!

Well. Look Who the Cat Drug Up.

So...

Ummm.

See, I've been really...
I've had an awful lot of...


Bah.

I'm on a laptop these days. Can use it any room in the house.

Sexy times.

Guess my favorite room?

Right now I'm on the couch. I just came in from sitting outside. My clothes smell like grilled hamburgers and wood smoke.

Most pleasant, I must say.

The wine I drank whilst listening to the pond frogs has comfortably settled in several places. Little and two of his cohorts are playing Halo on two different TV's and another is in the kitchen trying to fix the PC.

Big has left to spend the night in town with a buddy. He spends less and less time here at the house. It is as it should be. I like it when he passes through though. Post secondary education and all the trappings that go with it seem to suit him.

It makes me glad. He's come off a hard year.

So as spring rears it's head, the warm-thrilling day we just had will give way to snow this weekend.

Yep...snow.

Welcome to the Ozarks, Folks.

...and thanks for the prod, You!

Sounds

It's raining tonight and I have a little heartache.

I'm sitting on on my covered front porch. It's thundering and booming and lightening and the rain is pouring down like a cow peeing on a flat rock.

I love that.

I go inside and beg Big. "Come outside and sit and help me watch it storm!"

"Ah, Ma. I just now got on the college website. Besides I can hear it out my window. It's awesome, huh?"

"Yeah! (Gulp) Great!"

Little is watching TV, but he meanders out for a minute to comment.

"Whoa. It is really coming down."

He retreats back in just like that.

I continue my vigil. The rain occasionally blows up in my face which only adds to my pleasure. I look longingly next door.

I haven't seen Chase in a week or two- the little shit. He's working double shifts, courtin' a girl, and getting ready for college in the fall. He hasn't time to spend with his own Momma. Why would I think he'd have time for me?

Sigh.

Even though the clamor outside is deafening, I'm surrounded by a melancholy silence.

Now, those of you who have spent anytime at all with me over the past few years, know that I never took the awesome noise in my house for granted. I loved and cherished every bang of Rock Band and every throaty laugh at 2:00 in the morning.

I still do. They just get fewer and farther between.

I won't mourn this change in my life for long for I know a new and exciting one will come along. There will always be noise coming from my boys.

...in one way or another.

I'm just reflectin', I reckon.

I would say I'd keep you posted, but I haven't bothered to post in so long I'm not sure you can trust me.