Category: Jeanne’s Barefoot Heart (Page 94 of 99)

Jeanne’s personal creative pursuits of stories stitched, written, and spoken

paperholics anonymous

December 29, 2009 / jeanne / 32 Comments

hello. my name is jeanne, and i’m a paperholic.

i have this notion that the trees in heaven have leaves of various papers, and when the leaves fall, they are immediately replaced with more and different paper leaves. the skies rain pens, and colorful flowers magically become ink when picked. blank journals grow like weeds, and the clouds (always within reach) are actually handmade papers.

in my real world, 3 thank you notes = 1 apple, so to keep the doldrums at bay, i start my day off by penning 3 thank you notes. i seem to collect notecards like there’ll never be another, and i’m pretty sure that when answering this question next year, i’ll mention these jewels danielle laporte and these from papaya. this, my friends, is one of my favorite notecard find for 2009: embroidered paper. sweet.

envelopes? oh, don’t get me started.

then there are pens. these days i mostly use the handblown glass stylus my son, kipp, surprised me with on a trip to hawaii years ago. (yes, that’s it in the lead photo.) there is nothing – nothing, i tell you – like the sound and feel of that nib scratching across the paper leaving a trail of gratitude and appreciation.

then there’s this fountain pen beauty i bought myself to mark the occasion of going to graduate school.

there’s the fountain pen i bought because it was a replica of the fountain pen i used in elementary school (fountain pen + briefcase in 3rd grade? well, let’s just say that i’m a stronger woman because of it) and the fountain pen given to me by one of my son’s former girlfriends. while doing some online shopping, i happened upon this pen on a chain. fortunately it goes with everything. (think it might be time to dust around here?)

journals are another ~~weakness~~ ~~addiction~~ ~~downfall~~ interest. though i still occasionally go back to the black-and-white hardback inexpensive composition books because, as i told julie jordan scot, they don’t expect too much from me. about a month ago, somebody tweeted about purchasing a keel’s simple diary. unfortunately, i was still in the completely-gobsmacked stage of trying to find my way around twitter (now, i’m happy to report, i’m in the just-plain-gobsmacked stage), so i can’t give credit for the find. but there it was: the word “diary” – a sparkly if ever there was one. naturally, i had to go investigate and wound up giving 5 of them as gifts this year (yes, i am one of the 5).

in spite of my trusty ever-present companions, the iphone and macbook pro, september finds me hanging out in the calendar sections of local and online stores, fondling all the latest organizers – when it comes to pen and paper, old habits are hard to break – and i was fine with that system, totally fine, until i rebecca had to go and mention the day runner life tracker system. i spent far too many ~~hours~~ minutes yesterday envisioning my life with one of those flexible life tracker systems in my hand. (it brought back memories of the southpark trapper keeper episode – one of my favorites, though i have no idea why it’s so funny. i mean, i covet that trapper keeper. covet it, i tell you.)

coming across gwen bell’s article, then lisa sonora beam’s post last night has me gathering supplies to do a collaged plan for next year – something i haven’t done in more than 15 years. such planning was once an annual event for me – something i looked forward to. i would turn myself loose with the scissors, creating a collage inside a decorative (or decorated) file folder. i’d revisit the collage every month or two, always amazed at how my year was unfolding as though guided by the collage. but then i got busy, times got rough financially, cynicism built up and the belief in my self plummeted, so i just quit doing it. but now, i’m innergized and committed to using scissors, glue, paper, and intuition to create a map for 2010. to take control of my life; to live more consciously while reflecting regularly; to become more proactive than reactive.

and so, though it’s not on embroidered notecards, not written with vegetable-based amber-colored inks using a handblown glass stylus from hawaii, i offer yet another big, huge thank you to gwen bell for putting this challenge together, creating a path that has led me to my tribe, led me to my self and led me (back) to my self.

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. this post answers the question “when you touch the paper, your heart melts. the ink flows form the pen. what was your stationery find ot the year?”
~~~

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best web tool 2009: the envelope please

December 27, 2009 / jeanne / 27 Comments

in 2009, after spending much time auditioning many, many web tools, i learned and put into use hootsuite, evernote, dropbox, amazon s3, skype, delicious library, things for task management, scrivener for writing, process for outlining and braindancing projects. i rejoined facebook, set up a flickr account, learned how to create and post a video via vimeo. i researched, learned, and began to use these and many other web tools, but hands-down the best web tool of 2009 is twitter.

far from being a top gun or even a squirt gun on twitter, i am learning my way around and have made some good friends – some very good friends – there. in one of our getting-to-know-each-other email conversations, karen introduced me to havi and her post on finding your right people. my right people are on twitter – i’m sure of it – and to think that i would not know my tribe had i thought myself out of participating in gwen bell’s best of 09 blog challenge.

twitter folks are some of the most encouraging and supportive people i’ve ever happened to come across. so many seem to enjoy learning and sharing bits they find intriguing, interesting, informative. though i’m still learning twitter etiquette (i’m up to question #2768 to my manchild), i am mightily impressed with the good manners that prevail even in a world of 140 characters. “thank you” tweets come across my screen with delicious frequency, and every time i see one, i pause and think of somebody i can thank on twitter or off.

i enjoy the easy, non-obligatory rhythm of twitter – need to miss a few hours or days? no pressure. just rejoin when ready and pick up where you left off without feeling the need to go back and catch up on everything you missed. there’s no getting behind on twitter, and that’s a big relief.

i especially like the way twitter is shaping my thinking skills, helping me think crisply, with brevity, succinctly distilling my thoughts down to the essential. i have, however, read so many blog posts about how twitterers will not waste their time with anything but witty, sharp repartee, i do have a tendency to think myself into silence, even though these same folks also say they will not follow anybody who doesn’t post with regularity. “just listen to that smartass inner voice i know you have,” my manchild kipp (@lloyddobbler on twitter) tells me, “and take dictation.”

even having said that, twitter gives me 24/7 opportunities to take risks – to have my say and walk away without growing wrinkles and gray hair worrying too much about how my 140 strung-together characters will be received . . . something that is, of course, made easier given the small, miniscule number of followers i currently have. and while we’re talking about followers and following, a question: what is an acceptable discrepancy between the two? because i fear looking pathetic if i follow more than 32 times the number of followers i have at any given time, i’ve created a wait list of people i want to follow. i pick up a few followers, i follow a few more. that’s my system.

even though i know everybody has their own reasons for being on twitter, i sure do like the fact that so few people come across as hard-core, pushy, it’s-all-about-me sales people . . . even though i have noticed that some people have a tendency to send their own self-promotional tweets out several times an hour. but so few people do that, i just turn it into a game and make bets with myself about how many times those who do will post the same tweet in any given hour.

so, you see, twitter is more than distracting, clock-eating, short bursts of communication. yes, it’s so much, much more, and that’s why had i a red carpet and little gold statue (or a heavily-decorated cake with candles like the one in the picture) to award, it would go to – ta-da – twitter. (i would keep the goodie basket, though.) (i’m just sayin’.)

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge
~~~

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best gift of 2009: a new way of being

December 26, 2009 / jeanne / 29 Comments

i release my grip; i tighten my grip. like the beating of a heart: systolic, diastolic. both are necessary. both are sometimes erratic and irregular . . .

for proof that i’m releasing my grip, you’d have to look back no further than yesterday. some 12 hours after ravaging our way through enticingly-shaped packages and stories of selection criteria, the floor was still covered with spent wrapping paper and ribbons. gifts were still strewn about the house, in nomads in search of a home. back in the day, we would’ve opened packages and after a short exhale, i would’ve scooped up the paper and mainstreamed the gifts, leaving only the tree (with only a scant 12-15 hours remaining) and tablecloth as evidence that christmas was different from any other day.

in november i spent 4 days with the in-laws and prepared no script. in august we went to visit my son in colorado, and the only items on the itinerary were flight times and rental car confirmation number.

we moved into a new house, and while many of the big projects have been ticked off the list, there are switches without plate covers and marble floors in need of polishing and entire rooms that still look like attics.

i am more willing to accept without comment that some members of my family are just not likely to follow through with their commitments. that some projects may never be resoundingly finished. that some people are just more comfortable seeing the negative side.

and in the releasing, there is a tightening . . .

i tighten my grip around my writing self, living into my promise to regularly carve out time for stringing words together. i am not yet satisfied with what i am writing, finding myself still reluctant to peel back the top and release the contents of what’s in the can, but step one: thanks to gwen bell, there is a writing rhythm in the making.

i trust myself more, increasingly confident that i can and will handle whatever appears. i become more comfortable asking for help when needed without feeling faulty or indentured. i accept tears as highlighting pens instead of signs of weakness.

though i am not yet fully brave, i do speak my truth more, knowing full-well that my truth may not be your truth, but recognizing that my truth has value, too. and as i grow stronger, i learn to speak without the watering down and protective padding of tacked-on qualifiers. and even when the conversations get rough and bumpy, i stay. i stay.

i tighten my hold on patience – around these things and more – because i am not done here. these are not gifts that have been unwrapped and fully assimilated into daily life. this tightening and releasing – this shedding of layers and forming of balance – this is a gift that is still giving and still in the making.

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. today’s prompt: the best gift of 2009.
~~~

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throw away the red pen, i get it now

December 24, 2009 / jeanne / 6 Comments

it’s said that we teach to learn, and that’s true. it’s said that when the student is ready, the teacher appears, yeah, maybe so. it’s said that children are angels that teach us a lot . . . and, well, okay. i can only agree to the angel bit only on a case-by-case basis, but i can tell you that the best lesson i (re)learned in 2009 came from my son: when he says go see a movie, i go. (yes, kipp, i promise.) (really.)

he lived as an actor in los angeles and went to many a screening on account of being on some committee having to do with oscar selection, and it looks like that would have given him enough credibility for me to take his word for it. i mean, i meant to go see movies he told me to see, it’s just that, well, things kinda’ get in the way sometimes. sure, we went to see the movies he was in, but those he recommended, not so much.

a few of the movies he called about on his way out of the theater include cars, finding nemo, the up side of anger, the incredible hulk, ratatouille, juno, and whale rider. one christmas he made us go see the family stone, and today he dragged us to see avatar. so i think we can agree that he has good taste in must-see movies, that he knows what he’s talking about.

he tells me to read a book, i drop everything and go find it. he tells me to see a movie, i decide to wait till it comes out on dvd so i don’t have to deal with the kid talking and the cell phones ringing and the sticky floors and seats. “but some movies you just have to see on the big screen,” he says repeatedly. and now, today, after seeing avatar, i get it. we can go enjoy one of our post-viewing deconstructionist talks after any show, kipp and i, (and oh how i do love those and look forward to more discussion about avatar because there’s just too much for one sitting) but some movies are just too big to be seen on anything smaller than a movie screen.

why didn’t you just say so, kipp?

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. today’s prompt: the best lesson learned in 2009.
~~~

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happy times at happy time (best business 2009)

December 23, 2009 / jeanne / 6 Comments

i was never going to be a poodle owner (i love you, mom, but). and i’m still not, even though i do sometimes act like one.

i don’t know when happy time boarding started, but i know when i the s-p-a as we call it, having to spell it when phoebe (our welsh corgi) is within hearing distance until i have the keys in my hand and my hand on the door.

phoebe and i love this s-p-a because everybody who works there is friendly and accommodating (in spite of the headache they must surely have working in the din of incessant barking) (and i haven’t seen the first one wearing earplugs – amazing) though they may not know my name, they all know phoebe and every single one of them sounds sincerely glad to see her when i drop her off. and when i pick her up, well you’ve never seen such a heavily decorated corgi (i can’t imagine what pam’s ribbon bill must run every month) and she smells so good it really gets in the way of her ability to effectively herd the deer, squirrels, possums, and wild turkeys that trespass on a daily basis.

(warning: here’s where i really sound like a poodle mama.) and the accommodations? well, i’ve been thinking about asking if i could board myself there for a while. maybe i could get some serious writing done while wiling the time away here:

or here:

or especially here:

they’d make me take a walk and a break when needed. i could romp in the festive outdoor courtyard to meet my quota of socializing, and when time to get beautiful, they’d escort me to the grooming side where i’d get comfortable in one of the themed apartments there (no crates. no, no, no.) and relax till time to get my hair and nails done.

i could nap at will and without guilt.

or i could do what phoebe does when she’s there – just sit and watch the world go by:

i could be onto something here. yes, yes i could.

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. today’s prompt: the best startup business encountered in 2009?
~~~

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2009, the year of grappling

December 22, 2009 / jeanne / 8 Comments

it’s been a year of grappling. yes, yes it has. there’s been grappling with things that could be decided with wishbones or the magic 8 ball or using my roll-on deodorant as a crystal ball – things like eat-in-or-out and do-i-or-don’t-i sign up for that bootcamp. then there was more advanced grappling that required more advanced divination techniques walking or writing or stitching.

the year began with grappling about whether to buy the house or not, whether to move or stay put. then once we decided to buy the new house, i grappled a lot with things like where to place furniture, what to leave and what to take, wall colors, floor coverings, and best use of space. as the grappling wanes and we get settled, i begin to see that anything’s possible in a house that loves you.

on and off throughout the year, i grapple with difficult people – one in particular. do i go eyeball-to-eyeball or do as i’ve been taught and take the so-called high road (the road i was taught to ALWAYS take, the road that feels so much like cowardice)? i write to distill, write for clarity of purpose, and set up a meeting. when we part hours later, there is no grappling at all as i silently thank her for giving me the opportunity to finally stand up to a bully. thank her for this feeling of powerful satisfaction and self-confidence i have seldom known.

when the calendar reaches the one-and-a-half year anniversary of the day my best friend from graduate school broke up with me, i grapple with whether it is time to write that letter or wait a while longer. i write the letter, and feel quietly satisfied, knowing whatever her reception, i’ve done the right thing.

when my cousin’s son “went off the deep end”, i grapple with whether to speak flat-out or take the usual vague, watered-down approach. flat-out won, and i have to tell you: it feels really good to speak unencumbered with syrupy words and hollow platitudes. i traveled light, and i like it. i like it a lot.

yes, i grapple . . . and whenever i think myself out of something – when i let my head overrule and overrun my heart – i look back and wonder what would have happened if. but, oh, oh, oh. every time i listen to my self, trust my self, heed my self . . . i stand a little taller, feel a bit surer, and say thank you. a lot.

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. today’s prompt: what one word best describes your 2009?
~~~

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best project(s) of 2009

December 21, 2009 / jeanne / 12 Comments

let’s face it: i am a project-driven girl. this year the BPOA (biggest project of all) was moving and settling into a new house. sifting through 14 years’ worth of accumulation in that house, deciding what to keep, and what to put up for adoption. selecting new wall colors, new flooring, making the best use of space. there were new light fixtures to install, switches and receptacles to replace, curtains to put up (a first for me) – the list is long and you know what i’m talking about so enough said.

the lack of storage space led me project No More Filing. that one involves creating digital copies of all the bajillions of photos and receipts we have in boxes. i purchased a neat receipts portable scanner and a fast, racy fujitsu scansnap, and i’m almost caught up . . . at least as far as receipts and paperwork goes. the photos? not so much. i’m about to find my rhythm, which is good. we’ve burned up 4 shredders (so far) and i had to get a bigger hard drive (a new computer, bless my heart), but we are decidedly lighter in the way of file cabinets and banker boxes filled with papers. (don’t bother doing the financial math on that one. it’s more about physical space, anyway.) (and i feel lighter and more spacious already.)

it’s fun nesting – learning the house, its sounds and quirks, striking compromise by making our mark on what’s already here. it’s exciting discovering what plants will grace us with their presence throughout the year. (next year’s house project is building my second stone wall and creating a cut flower garden since i have, for the first time in over 30 years, a sunny spot.) it’s satisfying being resourceful, finding ways to refashion what we already have into what will work better in the new house.

and hey: the next nesting project is to find just the right place for the bryce widom artwork i won in the gwen bell best of 2009 blog challenge! woohoo – thank you gwen and bryce. it’s fantabulous – so much so that the kids are already arguing over who gets it in the will.

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. today’s prompt: what was your best project in 2009?
~~~

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singing my heroes and sheroes

December 21, 2009 / jeanne / 13 Comments

i tell them i love them, but do i tell them why?

i tell them i’m proud of them, but do i elaborate?

sometimes i do, but not nearly enough.

today, i tell them that they are my unsung heroes and shero, and yes, i tell them at least some of the reasons why (to list all the reasons would get us into bandwidth issues) . . .

my husband, andy has been my hero for 36.5 years now, and here’s why:

he makes me laugh. sometimes he cracks himself up more than he cracks me up, but he still makes me laugh.

he listens when i talk (well, not like i’m some e.f. hutton. i mean, sometimes his eyes glaze over, but we’re working on that).

he will go to the grocery store with me just because. once, in the days before cell phones, he figured out where i was and just showed up in the spices aisle to help me get groceries then we went home and put them up together.

to this day, we hold hands wherever we are.

he shares the scepter (read: remote control) to the television. he may leave the room when i’m in control, but he shares.

willingly and without complaint, he helps members of my family.

he is wicked smart, talented, creative, and funny.

he gives me cards. now, honestly, it used to make me mad that he gave me store-bought greeting cards. but then i had this small-huge shift in thinking and realized that he spends a lot of time sifting through racks of cards in search of one that says what his engineer-trained brain can’t quite articulate. or maybe it says what he doesn’t even know he wants to say until he finds the card.

my son, kipp. my hero because . . .

he knows that you can learn more about humans and their relationships from poetry, music, and literature than from any psychology class or textbook.

he edited my thesis, and when it was done, he asked if he could share it with some of his friends (who then became my friends from ensuing conversations.)

once, on a trip to hawaii, he surprised me with a handblown stylus and inkwell set because he knew – he just knew – how much i would enjoy the scratching of nib to paper and how much i needed to allow my brain to exhale and make room for all the important things that get buried and shoved aside under burgeoning to do lists and overcrowded calendars.

when he landed in l.a., he took a job delivering food to learn his way around.

he is an adventurous eater, something he learned all on his own.

he writes poetry, songs, and essays; does open mic events; is an actor and skydiver – all this and balances his checkbook.

we go to movies and shows, and afterwards to dinner or for drinks and discuss what we just saw from as analytical deconstructive creativists.

he is willing to say “i don’t know” right out loud.

he is wicked smart, talented, creative, and funny.

my shero is my daughter, alison. want to know why?

she ran for local city council then the state legislature before she was 25 years old. (and in the state legislature race, he was in a run-off with the older male career politician. lost the runoff only by a slim, slim margin, too.)

she started a local theatre company in 2005, and it’s still going and growing.

she supervises my hair stylist and goes clothes shopping with me.

in 2006 she hit a rough spot with depression, and i just kept putting one foot in front of the other, doing what needed to be done. a year later, she directed steel magnolias, casting me as m’lynn to her shelby. coincidence? i think not.

as a beautiful, articulate, talented public figure in a small town, she receives more than anybody’s fair share of other people’s insecurities and bad behavior. yet through it all, she remains the bamboo – bending but refusing to break. she is tenaciously nonconformist.

she is wicked smart, talented, creative, and funny.

she can do genealogical research and retain what she uncovered.

if you need to know what to give a person, call her. she knows people better than they know themselves.

she speaks her truth. others may not understand or agree, but she speaks it anyway.

yes, i am one lucky woman. luckier than i deserve.

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge. today’s prompt: who is your unsung hero?
~~~

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denver or bust (aka: best road trip)

December 20, 2009 / jeanne / 4 Comments

okay, so it was last year not this year, and it was a bigass yellow truck and not a car, but it was still the best road trip i’ve had in a while: summer of 2008 when we moved my boy from california to colorado. it wins Most Fabulous Trip because we were moving my boy closer to me! okay, listen. i was out the day they taught geography, so let’s just go with colorado is closer to me than southern california and leave it at that.

hubbie and i drove the bigass yellow truck (i think it was a 148-footer, but i’m not a numbers girl, so don’t quote me on that) while kipp and his former girlfriend led in his car. it was a gorgeous trip – mountains of every hue and description. here’s the view from the passenger’s seat doing as we moved along at (roughly) the speed limit:

we start with the los angeles mountains (look familiar, emma?)

and move to a hint of green:

then a splash of red:

some stripes to keep things interesting:

some just plain fun:

and finally:

grandchild rode with us. i forget ~~his~~ its name. starts with a “z” i think.

or maybe it’s a her-it since she/it (don’t say that out loud) does like to shop and try on pinks:

here we have grandchild playing buddha:

and i’ll leave you (you’re welcome) with:

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge.
~~~

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#best09, #bestof2009

catching up (again)

December 17, 2009 / jeanne / 24 Comments

they say that catching-up is hard to do . . . no, that’s breaking up that’s hard to do. whatever.

best rush of 09 was brought on by . . . well, honestly, i don’t have rushes any more. not since that one unfortunate night in undergraduate school when i was drunk on life – the closest to feeling joy i can remember. for the record: there were no drugs and no alcohol involved – just a day of good things. like being asked out by an upperclassman who was easy on the eyes. getting an A on my paper. finding $20 in my wallet when i was hoping to find enough change to make $1. it was just me and happiness to the 7th degree.

maybe to the 9th.

so there i was, humming to myself in the room when my roommate got back with her little entourage of ~~toadies~~ pledglings. humming, laughing, saying whatever funny stuff popped into my head (and it was all pretty damn funny, if i do say so myself). “what’s wrong with her?” sniffed the ~~condescending bitch~~ girl from across the hall who’d just pledged a sorority. “oh i don’t know,” sniffed back my ~~condescending bitch in the making~~ sorority wannabe roomie. “just ignore her.”

they ignored me all right, talking about me as though being drunk on life automatically rendered me stone deaf. it took weeks for them to change the subject, and life was so miserable, i vowed to never disturb the flatlines again. it’s just too dangerous. even now, there are far too many people around here who prefer homogenization. to get a rush and show it is to risk being labeled, and the labels used around here have some more kind of everlasting glue on the back, let me tell you.

i don’t know why this college memory bubbled up. maybe it’s time to:
a) find these gals on facebook, ask them to be my fb friends, then drop them like hot potatoes (that’ll really sting ’em.).
b) learn how to have a rush and keep it to my own self. (i guess that’s possible?)
c) don my big girl panties and get over it.

~~~

best packaging has to be anything apple sells. space for only the necessary. the essentials held firmly in place to prevent jarring and breakage . . .

wish they’d create packaging for my life.

~~~

best tea of the year . . . well, since no tea has crossed these lips in the past 16 years, i’m just gonna trek down memory lane and tell you that the best tea i ever had was aunt rene’s sweet tea.

down here, when we go to a restaurant and the waiter asks what we want, we say “sweet tea” to which, more often than not, we get a “huh?” eventually followed by “we only have unsweetened tea.” let’s be real clear about this: the term “sweet tea” is NOT retarded. it is a type of tea. a particularly pleasing, desirable kind of tea. sure it’s been a while, but i can tell you this with absolute certainty: you cannot thump all the crystals to the bottom of some colorful little packet, dump it in a glass of tea, whirl it around a few times, and expect to get anything near the quality of aunt rene’s sweet tea. it’s just not gonna’ happen.

aunt rene’s tea was so good, i once gave her a big ass set of drinking glasses when it wasn’t even a holiday. (something that’s unheard of in my ~~cheap~~ economically-correct family.) you could get about 3/4 of a gallon in those glasses, and we’d down at least 2 refills with every meal. the woman had to make her tea in a stockpot, i tell you, it was that good. before i swore off tea, i was known to make a meal off aunt rene’s sweet tea, though i have to admit that like my children, i preferred to have aunt rene’s sweet tea with a side of her blackeyed peas and some of her crisply fried bacon for dessert.

the secret to aunt rene’s sweet tea? sugar. lots and lots and lots of sugar. added while the tea was still hot so it would dissolve. she’d stir that disappearing sugar, and once she couldn’t see it anymore, she’d up and add some more, reckoning that if you can’t see it you can’t taste it.

i guess now folks would call that wrong or unhealthy or something. i mean, we all know that sugar is on the bad-for-you list.

sure. whatever.

i just quit drinking tea cause it was staining my teeth, and i read somewhere that discolored teeth add about a decade to your real age.

yeah, i’m kidding. there’s no way i can talk about age in the same hemisphere as aunt rene cause the best thing that special woman (she was my great aunt) (and i mean that in more ways than one) ever taught me is to not ever tell ’em your age. “it’s none of their business,” she’d declare, the “damn” implied. “besides, just ’cause you can count it doesn’t mean it counts.” (she lived to be 97.5 years young.) (but who’s counting her years or the number of glasses of sweet tea she imbibed?)

best09
~~~
the stories are mine, but credit for the kindling goes to gwen bell and her best of 2009 blog challenge.
~~~

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#best09, #bestof2009