Happy Birthday to my baby

Today is Mac's 18th birthday. I can't believe it. He can buy lottery tickets. He can vote. He can fight in a war. He's still my 'little man' even though he's about 5'11" and weighs about 260 pounds.

He can walk and run and talk and sing. He reads and memorizes laws and music and lyrics. He plays the sax and drives a car. He cooks and tells dirty jokes. He hugs his mom in public without embarrassment. He can make choices on his own and has a 3 am curfew on weekend. He can grow a beard and will belly laugh when he's tickled by something. He graduates next month, and he goes to college in August.

I don't know what to say other than he's a man. He's a blessing. Even though he might be making me nuts lately, I can't imagine life without him.

I'm so proud of him now. Seeing the world through his eyes has been amazing.

So happy birthday to my baby boy.

I can't wait to see what he'll do next.

Mac's mom,
Maggie

35. Perform a random act of kindness

You know what? I have no idea exactly what defines a random act of kindness. Oh, I know what all the words mean and I certainly understand the meaning behind it but I wasn't sure, once I actually wrote it down, how to record it. Because it I do something that i think is just a random act of kindness and then i go an record it, does that mean it wasn't REALLY random because my subconscious was driving me to do something so I would be able to cross if off my list? So therefore, is it no longer random?

Ah the philosophical ramblings...

So, I think this could be a random act of kindness. And, this one might appear several times between now and the day of the big 4-OH.

Curly made me a couple of adorable little hats. They're crocheted beanie caps with a flower on them. I love 'em and wear them around when not in schools (can't wear even decorative hats in school...).

Anyway, I was wearing one into Starbucks one day and the barista, Beth, really liked it. I went in another time and she was working and went on and on about how much she liked that one, too. She looked at them and the flower and wondered how hard it would be to make one.

So the next time I went to that Starbucks, I just brought one of mine along, one that Daddy-O made. I left it at the front counter. Beth wasn't working but the manager on duty said she would give it to her when she came in next. I didn't leave my name or a card or anything, just the hat.

The one I left for her looks very similar to this:


She has long, thick curly black hair and she's very bohemian- you can tell from the way she dresses and I've seen her about town so it's befitting of her, I think, from what I've seen her in before (yeah, I know- how bohemian can you be in a Starbucks uniform?). And I think with all her dark hair and olive complexion, the red would be stunning.

I hope she likes it!

Maggie

Perfect ending to a nice holiday

I wish I had another week of vacation to recover from my vacation. I didn't do anything I wanted expect relax and run around. I want more time. Oh yes, me so stingy with it.

It's got to 86 degrees here and sunny today. It was incredible.

It was such a great day to end spring break that we grilled out. ITSam bought steaks and brats. I made roast garlic and rosemary roast potatoes and a huge salad. And, of course, iced sun tea and strawberry shortcake. Ah, yummy. The first grilled meal of the season. I plan on grilling 3-4 times a week from here on out. I think I might actually learn how to use the grill so I can do it anytime and not rely on anyone else to cook for me like that.

I remember once when I lived in Northern Civilization about 9-10 years ago. I had a nice grill that was charcoal. I thought I knew how to use that. I had people over and was going to grill. I thought, "how hard can it be, really?"

We were all standing outside in the driveway, drinking margaritas and beers. For whatever reason I wanted to speed things up so I squirted some lighter fluid on the coals and flicked the lid shut. Then opened it five minutes later and a huge flame ball burst straight up into the air.

Catching the garage of my rental condo on fire. Shit.

We grabbed a garden hose and sprayed down the garage and the grill and the yards, my car and each other. By the time it was all said and done with, we put the grill stuff away and ordered a bunch of pizzas. And drank more.

Then over the next few weeks my friends showed up to help me repair and repaint the garage since my landlord was in Iraq. I was really glad I was close friends with her, and with his fiancee who was watching over things. And who was also at the house the day of the "infamous Maggie learns to grill day."

Today was a much better grilling experience. I stayed in the house and made salad, the potatoes, the Italian bread, and the homemade shortcake. Daddy-O kept ITSam company and they manned the grill. We ate until we were stuffed. The cleaning up was easy.

And the nice walk after dinner in the breeze was just grand.

Spring has sprung for sure.

Maggie

It sounds so Nancy Drew: "The Mystery of the Refrigerator Art"

A few weeks ago I was fussing around on my blog and was going to write a post. I got interrupted so I wrote myself the words "refrigerator art" in the blog body and thought that would tip me off when I had time to go back and write the post. I saved it as a draft and went on my merry way. Now I have time. I'm back. And I have NO idea what I was going to write about at all.

Right now the words "refrigerator art" have no meaning to me whatsoever. I've read my blog posts a few days before and after the date I saved it to see if there was something that triggered that thought process. I hit a few of my fav blogs and re-read their posts around that same time. Nothing. I have no idea what my intent was. I can't even find anything about "art" or "refrigerators" to see if I was using some fun, little play on words.

I thought I could challenge myself and come up with something anyway, about refrigerators or art. Ummmmmmm, well..... okay. Let's just say I've kicked it around for a few days and if I was a student and this was my writing prompt I would be in big, frickin' trouble.

I even went to look at Daddy-O's refrigerator to see if there was something there. We have a collection of weird magnets advertising businesses or places people have gone on vacation and brought back a magnet, like a guitar stamped with Graceland. There's also a magnet of Marilyn Monroe. Apart from the magnet art, there's an assortment of take-out menus, Mac's school calendar for the rest of the school year, some expired coupons, a couple of note pads, and a bag that held veggies but is there as a reminder to me to get that same kind next time I go. There's a beer bottle opener, too. And there's a couple of photographs of family friends. Nothing that looks like art. No pictures drawn and hung up. No all A report cards. Just a bunch of junk that does NOT resemble art. Unless you would consider it modern art. I don't.

Because I'm anal retentive like that I looked at ITSam's fridge, hunting for inspiration and all that's there is a strip of pictures he and I had taken at a photo booth in the mall. Nothing else.

Wonder if Van Gogh or Picasso's moms put their artwork on the fridge?

I have three pictures that Princess made for me in her advanced art class and those are hanging up in my library, not on a fridge but on a file cabinet. She also has work on display in a local art show here in town. But I don't think either of these is the idea I had.

Anyway, so the mystery of "refrigerator art" remains. I still have no idea what I was going to write about, even after all the investigation.

Some mysteries are never solved.

Maggie

All you with penises stick together

I'm not mad or angry and it's really just a big joke between us but I really want some opinions here! This is not something that has caused relationship stress, I swear!

I had two DVDs in my hand. I held up the first one- Grosse Pointe Blank, starring John Cusak and Minnie Driver. The conversation followed:

Me: Have you seen this?
ITSam: Oh yeah. I love that movie. It's a great movie.
Me: cool. Let's watch it tonight?
Sam: Okay, sounds great.

I hold up the second movie- Beautiful Girls starring Timothy Hutton and a bunch of other people (Natalie Portman, Rosie O'Donnell, Mira Sorvino, Matt Dillion, Lauren Holl, Uma Thurmon)- and I said:
Me: And this one?
Sam: Oh, I don't like that movie.
Me: Oh really? Why?
Sam: sits there and make icky faces
Me: Oh com'on it's not that bad. it's got a great cast. Do you not like it because of Rosie?
Sam: uh, no. I just don't like it.
Me: The story is good, funny, a guy bonding thing and Natalie Portman's in it; you like here!
Sam: squirms in his seat
Me: wait, have you even WATCHED this movie?
Sam: Well, no but it doesn't look good.
Me: you said you saw it!!
Sam: Technically, I said I didn't like it, not I haven't seen it.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Okay, yes that's what he said. Yes, that's what I said. But I contend that he lied and implied he saw the movie, sort of lying by omission. He says he didn't; he says he just didn't answer the question I asked and I assumed.

Yes, technically he didn't answer my question but he knew his answer would make me THINK he saw the movie. Stuff like that drives me batty, mostly because it's such a high school student conversation!

I asked two other males their opinions and they side with ITSam. Men...!

Mags

By the way, is the plural of penis "penises" or "peni"?

Random ramblings of the addle- brained

This morning Mac and I went out for breakfast in an attempt of mother and son bonding. I discovered if we talked about nothing serious, made fun of the other diners, and we ate platters of homemade biscuits and gravy bigger than our heads we could have fun. The bonding continued to Wal-Mart where we looked at games and movies and played with toys. We bought shampoo and a Bruce Lee subtitled movie. It was a good day, so far. Yes, I said so far. I never look a gift horse in the mouth with a teenage song; things could go drastically wrong at any time. No, I'm not being a pessimist- I'm being a realist.

In other news, I'm doing laundry. I did grocery shop. I got fuel in the car. I worked yesterday, driving a transport, which was really an exercise in futility. I'm still having a good spring break in-spite of the housekeeping stuff but I can't believe it's over in 3.5 days. It seemed so short.

I think I need a nap. I forgot to turn my alarm off last night so it went off at 7:20am this morning and I couldn't fall back asleep. I'm still tired.

We got cool coupons in the mail today. Rent one movie or game and get one free of equal or lesser value and present the coupon and get all late fees wiped off. We have late fees because mac's ex-girlfriend kept his movies and then returned them late. So, today we got the fine cleared off for the price of a rental. Bonus! Mac wanted a game to play anyway, so it's totally a win- win situation.

And said game, when playing, has the character end a level in a bakery full of giant cakes and cookies. I like that game. I wish I was in a land of giant cookies and cakes.

Okay I sound like I'm on crack with the weird ramblings of this post.

Pardon the tired me...............................

Maggie

A Wild West summer of long ago

Thinking about a Wild West summer...

I would feel like I was going to melt into summer warmth. Magically, the sun is shining and the snow dissolves, leaving brown hues in its wake. The wind turns warm and humid, and is sparse. I question whether I really feel a breeze or it's so hot, I imagine a cooling presence. The cold air that had so frozen my lungs just that previous winter not so long ago, becomes hot and sticky, leaving me parched. Sweat immediately forms on my brow and I look over the brown fields, feeling the heat of the sun on my shoulders and the heat radiating up from the cooked cracked earth. Summer was having an intensity matched by nothing other than the fires of Hell.

The plains are still rolling and the shades of brown are many. The fields are dirty dark brown, and as the hills raise and lower, the hues become darker and lighter. The round bales of hay dot the landscape, giving it a polka dotted look. And the pattern of bales at first appears random, but upon closer examination the rows of bales are symmetrical and aligned, making a quilt like pattern across the otherwise unadorned fields, in a covering of summer.

The humidity and summer sun has done its job and cooked the earth until it cracked, leaving gouges running through the hardened, dried mud. Tractors and long ago rains worked together to leave the huge ruts, like craters, making the terrain uneven and broken, almost scarred. Not even the brilliant blue sky, like a tall drink of water, can ease the hotness, the lines of heat reverberating from the ground. The scrub brushes wilt in the mid day sun and not a tumbleweed blows across my path. The sage brush is limp, tired from the beating it received from the summer's intensity. Land as far as the eye can see, miles of brown with golden dots of hay, lasting forever, until it joins hands with the blue sky at the horizon.

Maggie