Thoughts of pink

School starts tomorrow and, in true fashion, I waited until today to take Jessie shopping for school clothing. Her wardrobe consists of short shorts, mini skirts, tight-fitting shirts, tanks with thin straps, and pants with the knees ripped out.

She is starting a school that has a rather strict dress code. No shorts or skirts shorter than six inches above the knee when kneeling on a table (and believe me they measure!), no spaghetti strap tanks, and no pants with rips. Don't get me started on the boys' restrictions. I remember them well from when Jason began his sixth grade year.

Oh well, the point is that she has nothing that meets this criteria, which is mainly because her friends don't dress that way, which is mainly because the stores don't sell clothing that meets this criteria. Shorts are mini, skirts are mini, tanks straps are mini, and some jeans have rips. Okay, she ripped out the knees of her jeans, but that IS in style now.

We went to Target and found some items. Not much though. She began gravitating toward shirts. I explained that she needed bottoms, not tops. We ended up with a pair of Bermuda shorts that were brown and pink, a brown polo, and a pink polo. Okay, I know I'm a sucker.

Next we went to Walmart. They had nothing at first glance. The girls department looked like it had been wiped out by some plague. Surely there had to be something suitable; something that met the dress code criteria.... but all the shorts were too short, all the skirts were too short, and all the tanks had thin straps that were too thin.

The items I did happen to find that met the criteria were all pink for some strange reason. I suggested a camouflage pair of Capris that were pink.

Nope.

I suggested a solid pair of Capris that were light pink.

Nope.

"Nothing pink, Mom! I'll tell you when I find something I like."

Enough said. I shut my mouth. I followed her around and reminded her of her size, when she found items that were way too small or large. She soon found a brand of jeans that she liked., and there were a variety of shades (styles) so she picked three different pairs and tried them on. They all fit.

Then we went to look for tennis shoes. The very first pair she spotted she loved. They were black and pink. Really cute. We found her size and tossed them into the buggy.

As they settled into the buggy, I couldn't help but notice that there was pink in the shoe. Come to think of it, previously she had tossed in a lunchbox that was pink and convinced me she needed it because her old one had broken. And come to think of it, she wants her bedroom walls to be painted pink.

Yet, she didn't like any of the pink items I suggested.

Soleful reflection

Once upon a time when I was in my earliest 20s, I had this pair of shoes.

They were black patent, flat-heeled "pumps" with a bow on top. They were beautiful and went with everything... I wore them a lot. I dressed for work back then; back when I had the energy to wear panty hose.

Fast forward 20-something years to about five years ago.

I was in Goodwill on my lunch break, perusing the merchandise, scoffing at the overpriced items.....overpriced used items, mind you....and I happened across a pair of black patent, flat-heeled "pumps" with a black bow on top.

OMG, I thought. These are the exact same shoes I used to have that I loved. I immediately looked at the size. They were a size 6. I usually wear a 6.5 wide or a 7 regular so I could handle a 6 I thought. I took off my tennis shoes and crammed the right shoe onto my socked foot.

It fit!!!

Well it fit because I made it fit; but it fit regardless, so I bought them and immediately threw them in my closet for a few days before I actually wore them to work.

The first day I wore them to work, I was so proud. I felt young again. I was the me of my earliest 20s. And they fit just right with knee-highs. I was hot.

Just after I got to work, however, I noticed that part of the shoe, the patent part, had creased from the movement of walking and had flaked off leaving a white crooked line on the shoe. I tried to fix it by putting scotch tape over the crease, but I put the tape on crooked. I pulled the tape back up, because I can't have a crooked piece of tape on my shoe, and when the tape came off so did the patent black.

Crap.

I grabbed a black sharpie, an old trick of mine, and colored the white jagged line until it was invisible.

There.

An hour or so went by. I was walking down the hallway to my office and the sole of my right shoe began to come off. It's a feeling I cannot describe.

Crap.

My boss suggested that I use Spray Mount to adhere the sole to the shoe again. I found the spray and went outside.

It worked. The sole stuck and all was good. But my elated feeling was slowly deflating. After all, I had a glued on sole and now there were a thousand more creases in the black patent.

When my friend and coworker Alice came around for tea (that is my morning break), we headed for the kitchen and I began telling her about what had happened with my shoes... how they were the epitome of my youth; how they made me feel young again... how they had cracked and how the sole had come undone only to get reglued... how I had overcome all that and was still positive.

Just before we approached the kitchen door, my left sole came off. I am not kidding you. It came off exactly after I had told her about the right sole coming off.

It came off right on cue. I had to be on some comedy show.

We looked at each other and then cracked up.

My beautiful black patent, flat-heeled "pumps" with a bow on top shoes that represented my youth were dry rotted! There was no use trying to glue on the left sole, even though I tried and I tried, believe me.

I learned a valuable lesson from that experience. I knew my youth wasn't dead just because those shoes were dead... I know my age but I don't feel it. That experience taught me that you should never try to go back in time. You should appreciate the past, and learn from it, but you should always push forward.

Alphabet

Okay, I'm a blogger, but not an "official" blogger because, as my son reminds me frequently, I only have two readers.

My cousin Sayre (a/k/a Sarah) is a true blogger. She writes faithfully, participates in activities with other bloggers, and has even won awards for her blog. And she does all that despite having to raise a son, raise a husband, and raise a career.

She is my hero. My blogger hero, among other things.

There have been many times I wanted to respond to my cousin's "Fun Monday" challenges but I didn't. I couldn't, because I am sporadic when it comes to blogging... as you well know. I am not dependable.

But Sayre (a/k/a Sarah) has "Alphabet Tagged" me, and I have never been tagged. I must respond.

So here is my Alphabet Tag:


Attached or single? Reattached.

Best friend? My cousin Sayre (a/k/a Sarah). I don't really have any friends. Technically she is not a "friend", she is family... but she is my best friend because she is hears me. She listens to me. She makes me remember who I am.


Cake or Pie? Cake. Chocolate cake.

Day of Choice? Friday. Friday represents the end of the week and the end of the crap and craziness that is my week.

Essential Item? scissors.


Favorite color? orange.

Gummy bears or worms? I would rather eat a bear than a worm.... the bears are smaller.

Hometown? Tallahassee.

Indulgence? Steak.

January or July? Both. January because I love winter over summer. July because it's the month I met Dale.

Kids? No thank you. I have enough.

Life isn't complete.... without a cat. {lmks to scrss: so true}

Marriage Date? First time: March 16, 1990, second time: 12th of never.

Number of Brothers and Sisters? 1 sister.


Oranges or Apples? Oranges... but not orange juice.

Phobias? Heights.

Quote? One of my own: "It's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Reasons to Smile? Being true to myself on a daily basis; watching my children learn that they do not know more than me; and in contradiction, watching my children realize they have taught me something.


Season of Choice? Fall.

Tag Seven People? Okay, I only know 2 people who blog.... 1) the person who tagged me, and 2) my cousin Cathy. Hey Cathy, are you out there?

Unknown Fact? I saw Ted Turner and Jane Fonda at Hooters on Christmas Day. {Okay, it's not "unknown;" actually, I called everybody I could think of at the time.}

Vegetable? This is too hard. I can't just pick one. I'll pick three: yellow squash, Lima beans, potatoes.

Worst habits? Biting nails, trying to control the lives of everyone around me.

XRay or Ultrasound? Ultrasound.

Your favorite food? Cheese.

Zodiac sign? Pisces. I am fish.

Driving 101

Jason had his first driving lesson yesterday.

I was occupied with laundry and peeling wallpaper, and somehow we go onto the subject of checking accounts.

So he passed the quiz that my credit union requires of teens to get a checking account ....and he got psyched. And, hey, since he was all "psyched" about getting his own checking account, I asked him if he wanted to have his first driving lesson.

I fully expected him to reply "no," being as that was his reply the other 4,000 times I had asked him that question since receiving his license.

But instead he replied "yes." Dang... now I would actually have to teach him to drive. I have been excited for him since he got his license, but at the same time, I have been very nervous about teaching him on a manual transmission.

So, here I was. Son in driver's seat. Me in passenger seat. The first thing he asked was "Why is the seatbelt on the wrong side?"

We got down to business. I had the "simple" task of teaching him to let off the clutch at the same time he pushed the gas pedal.

It is SO hard to teach something that is natural to me; that I don't think about. He did very well with it all though... he only flooded the car a few times and he only conked out a few hundred times. It was all good.

After about an hour, he had had enough of his lesson so I got behind the wheel and headed back home. I described to him how it felt when I had my feet in motion.... and he wanted another try. This time he did it almost perfectly! It clicked with him. He finally understood what I had been trying to say, and asked me why I hadn't just done that to begin with.

We pulled in the driveway. He was grinning. I was grinning and so proud of him. Proud of him for continuing without giving up, even though I know he was frustrated many times.

I gave him a hug and told him to get in the car because I wanted to take a picture of him behind the wheel. Before we began the lesson, I had stashed the camera in my purse thinking I would get an "action shot" of him driving.... but my purse ended up in the back seat and unavailable. And just as well. I don't think it would have been a cool "mom" move to whip out a camera while he was in the throes of clutching!

At least he allowed me to photograph him at the end. I can't get the photo to upload so you'll have to imagine it!

Arachnophobia?

I had a visitor with me on my trek to work and back today. A banana spider. At least I think it was a banana spider. It's some kind of large spider... and I don't like large spiders.

My yard has several of them right now. They build their webs everywhere, which I am not pleased about, but as long as they stay out of my way, I don't mess with them.

Jessica displaced one the other day. He had set up his home near the carport about a month before. I noticed that he wasn't in his web one day and wondered what happened to him.

Well, he went directly across the carport and built a web over the wicker couch swing. However, he was displaced from there toot-sweet because Jessie uses that swing a lot. He then proceeded to build his web on the other side of the carport next to my car. Well that was an unacceptable location so I gently moved him from there into the bushes.

This morning as I was traveling on I-10, doing 65, I happened to look in my rear view mirror and noticed a banana spider barely hanging on to the top of my back window. The only thing holding him on from what I could tell was some spider web. He was flapping in the breeze and I was amazed he had held on so long.

The next time I looked in my rear view mirror, he was gone. I figured he blew away. After all it's hard to hold on when you are in 65mph winds.

I went to work. Parked. Went to lunch. Parked. Left work. Went to Publix.

On the way to my car with my purchase, I was walking next to a couple who were just slightly ahead of me. As I approached my car, the woman began walking toward my car with a look of fascination. I was wondering what exactly she was doing looking at my car.

I soon saw what she had spied. It was the banana spider on the back of my car... and I mean the side back. Right near the key hole to open the trunk. He was so completely still that I wasn't even sure if he was alive. By the way, it's hard to tell in the picture, but that spider is about 3 inches long from leg tips.



I was amazed that this spider was still around and I told the woman my story about being on I-10. She left and then came back with her husband. Then another couple showed up to look at it.

Seeing the spider actually made an impression on them. One guy started talking animatedly about a "pet" spider he once had, and we all listened and commented. It was really neat to see strangers come together to discuss something as odd as the spider on my car like that.

I left Publix and drove home. I thought surely he would have blown off, but he didn't. I gently removed him from my car and placed him in some bushes FAR away from my car.

Jessica thinks this spider is a stalker.

I am curious to see where he will settle this time.

On another note. Jessica made very good progress with the wallpaper removal. Take a look at the current status: