Goodbye August.

At breakfast Mr. Macho eulogized August with our traditional statement, "If there is anything you want to do this month you better do it quick!" Sure enough this month has zipped by. Blink of an eye.

It's Tucker's weekend. I will meet Son-in-Law at the half way point this afternoon and bring Tucker home with me. Tonight we are going to the opening high school football game. Go Trojans! I can hardly wait to watch the marching band come into the stadium. Watch the team warm up. Cheer for our guys. Smell the popcorn and burgers wafting up from the concession stand. Two bits. Four bits. All for the Trojans stand up and holler. Get 'em Trojans.

Sunday will usher in September. Leaves will start to color up. Warm and cool temps will collide. Or pass each other in the changing. Family birthdays will be remembered and/or celebrated. Our new Millie will present herself. Ah September. Bring it on.

The day is awaiting me. Got to get started.
Peace out.

Repost: Passing the day

Note: This is an email I sent to my Mother and sibs yesterday. Mom and Dad and two of my sibs had homes destroyed 8 years ago on the Mississippi Coast. Sorry the font is so large. It was so Mom could read it easily... 

I was all set to make this a productive day. I was going to wash baseboards and crochet. Really produce something. Then...

Bob called before Mike left for work (don't get excited). Kacie is NOT in labor. But that was the first question I asked. I forgot what he called about. But it wasn't labor. Sidetrack.

Okay. So then Mimi and I got caught up in the Skype. Thinking about Aunt Eleanor...her birthday being next week. Then we went on about Katrina. And I pulled out my old emails and read some just to remember the feel of it. The sheer panic of it. The sadness of it. 

While talking to her Audrey texted me...commemorating the day herownself. She saw something about Katrina on facebook. 

Hours behind, I drove to the Y. Called Audrey before I went in. She relayed a story about someone at the kid's karate lessons triggering a Pa moment for her. I told her that recently I had an intense Pa moment, too. I don't even remember what it was that made me think, "I need to call Dad and tell him about that." 

When I finally stepped into the Y the 'old man' club was sitting in the lobby taking names. They called me out for being so late. Then WE got to talking about hurricanes. I was regaling them with my storm stories. Captive audience. 

Finally got my work out done. But my day is shot to hell. So here I sit. Googling crap on the computer. Not one darn thing accomplished. Except we ate breakfast and I had my work out. Oh. And I turned on the sprinkler. 

How are you passing the day? Any remembrances you want to share? 

In reading the old Katrina emails I have to share this one from Tuesday, September 6, 2005....

From Nancy to Audrey @ 9:13 a.m.

"Aunt E. got power at about 9:00 last night Mike Brown delivered food/ice/birthday cake. No phones, yet. P.G. talks to them every other day or so and are fine...Uncle Dick wants to get a trailer. P.G. told him he would have to stand in FEMA line for hours...he said, I ain't standing in no damn line!!!" Typical Uncle Dick."

Gotta love it. Can't you just hear him?!

Steph - I hope you and Harry have a most excellent 50th anniversary!!! Love to all in Kentucky.

Paulette - Another good weigh in week. On the low side. Going to the Methodist Church for a shrimp boil to celebrate tonight. 

Hope the day is good to you all.

loveyalots, Nancy

Slow news week?

Just a quick few random comments and observations concerning the "top" news item for the week.

1. Yes. I googled "twerking". I watched an instructional video about how to "twerk". I did.
2. Competing with yourself/everyone to come up with the next big shock must be exhausting.
3. Is this an old vs young thing? History repeating itself?
4. Big open mouth with tongue hanging out = not attractive.
5. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?
6. What DO you talk about with your parents?
7. Seriously? You wear that bikini on stage? With your saggy/flappy booty?
8. Damn. One tiny part of me wants to be able to do this dance.

***
Bugs. I am fighting bugs today. Mosquitoes have invaded my patio and garage. Clouds and clouds of the little blood suckers surround me when I step outside. I have bought the poison. This means war!

*****
Dance lessons were pretty fun last night. We finished the month of beginner hustle and intermediate night club two step. Next month = intermediate hustle and beginner rumba!! Oh. We love the rumba.

Be sweet.

Sentimental.

This post is absurd. Crazy.

I don't even know where to start. Let me just show you...

After Mr. Macho and I got married, 36 years ago, I carried his phone number in a little leather coin purse that my uncle had given me. I rarely called him and could not remember his work number from one minute to the next. And so. I carried it. Over the years I would happen upon the little piece of paper with his number on it. Instead of throwing it away, I just put it back in the little purse. Even after I could remember his number. I just kept it. For all these years. And discovered it again today. It is worn. Almost see through. It is about to disintegrate. So I decided to immortalize it in a photo. 

It was written on an old laundry list from the college that I attended. And graduated from. How do you throw away sentimental things like this? There is no reason to hold on to it. Right? Why is it so hard? Just because it is old? Or because it reminds me that we were so young and freshly married and life together was so new and terrific? Yes. All those things. 

Maybe I will work up the nerve to throw it away this time. Maybe not.

***

Good green gumbo is cooking on the stove. Cornbread will get made later. 

Margarita ingredients are in the kitchen. 

Dirty bathrooms to scrub right now.

Be sweet.

Lucky duck.

That's me. I had such a fun day yesterday. I was a substitute bunko player in the afternoon. And. I won the most bunkos prize!

My regular bunko group reconvened last night. And. I split the pot for most bunkos. Woo hoo.
Twas a fun day. Good to be among friends. Sister Paulette was even there at the afternoon bunko party. I guess she just played hooky from work.  She is in the short rows to retirement, anyway.

One of the ladies brought bread pudding last night. It was sinful. She made it with french bread, half and half, condense milk, chocolate chips, and peanut butter chips. Then served it with cool whip. Yes. I tried it. My eyes rolled back in my head. It was that good. And. It was still warm. Oh my.

Today, after Bible study, I am lunching with Daughter in Law #1 and her mom. We are about 2 1/2 weeks away from the birth of our newest granddaughter. The count down begins! Peyton will be a big sister. Wow.

Sister Marsha is 60. Today. She has celebrated her birthday. All. Summer. Long. It is official today. So happy birthday to her!!

Here's hoping it is a good day for you, too.
Be sweet.

2013 EPT. Day four.

Before I wrap up my adventure tale I need to give a shout out to my GPS. Woot woot! We had very little trouble navigating Memphis thanks to this handy little device. There were only one or two tense moments: 1. The GPS lost satellite connection and I panicked. 2. Navigating the one way streets around the Civil Rights Museum. 

I must say. The GPS got us there every time. 

It sure made my map reading duties much more tolerable for Mr. Macho.

***

All good things must come to an end. And so it was with our Elvis adventure. Sunday we found a beautiful church where we went to worship. We then headed south.

After a good lunch at one of my fave's = Newks, and a quick stop at Sam's, we continued the Elvis experience.

Mr. Macho reluctantly agreed to a quick photo op in front of the hardware store where Elvis bought his first guitar. Mr. Macho snapped the shot without even getting out of the car. 

Elvis was born in this house in 1935. It has two rooms. He lived here until he was three years old.

This view of the kitchen actually looks bigger than what it really is. 

There you have it. Our little adventure ended with no fanfare and a little soft rain. 

You know how in remembering things they sometimes take on soft edges? I think I am already romanticizing these memories into how I want to remember them.  The few days were so fun. And now. They are taking on the soft glow in the telling of what a good time we had.  It was made all the richer in that  Mr. Macho was such a willing participant. His enjoyment multiplied the good vibrations.

Day four, totally cool. Good ending to fun times. 

Elvis has left the building.

2013 EPT. Day three.

Saturday. What to do? The zoo!! Of course. I promised myself that I wouldn't take pictures of the animals. I thought it would be too boring. But. The pandas took my heart and the polar bear captivated my interest. I didn't realize how many photos I took of the polar bear until I got home. He was swimming laps and he looked so big!

At the Memphis Zoo.

Mr. Macho. We were entering the panda exhibit.

One of the two giant pandas at the zoo.  It was fun watching them strip and eat the bamboo.

Polar bear swimming laps.

We ate some yucky sandwiches at the zoo because it was convenient and we wanted to hurry to the next thing. 

The next thing was the Civil Right Museum. It was most interesting. Well done. Not too, too long. My back and legs were getting tired after all the walking at the zoo. But. I am so satisfied that we did this museum. 

It was more moving that I anticipated to stand on the balcony where Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot. This room, 306, was where he had stayed and just stepped out when he got shot. I just have to believe that James Earl Ray was paid to do this. Otherwise, where did an out of work bartender get the money to travel to Canada and then Great Britain where he was apprehended?

We attempted another Redbirds game. But. By the time we got there it was standing room only. Okay. We went in and got something to eat. Found a spot in the left field lounge (a spot on the grass). Then it started sprinkling. We got up and got under the pavilion before the rain started in earnest. After an hour of game delay we realized that, even if we waited, we would have no dry place to sit for the rest of the game. So we called it a day.

Even considering the rain out, day three was a success! 

2013 EPT. Day two.

Day two dawned with an open agenda. There was no plan. I took the lead and said that I, at the very least, wanted pictures of Graceland. I mean it WAS the anniversary of the death of the King. We did it.  

 We did the house tour of Graceland.

While in line waiting for the bus we noticed how many older women had Elvis t-shirts and handbags. And we saw this guy. Check out the sideburns. Totally Elvis. Over the next two days we would see many more young and old men sporting the Elvis look. And many that were just straight out Elvis copy-cats. It was rich. 

With homage being paid to the King we drove downtown and ate at Rendezvous. A fairly famous barbecue restaurant. It was mediocre. Neither of us are fans of their dry rub.

After lunch we headed to Mud Island. We rode their monorail over the Wolf River to the Mississippi River Museum. It took several hours, lots of walking and reading, to finish the museum. It is an extensive look at life and history of Old Man River.

Mr. Macho in a replica of a steam boat. It was well done. We enjoyed the stroll on the mini-replica of the Mississippi. It was good to be outside because the temperature was so pleasant. 

Next stop = Sun Studio Tour. And look who we met...

"Elvis" was most gracious and let us take a couple of photos with him. 

This is where Elvis recorded his first song. It was a great little tour. Visitors were invited to pose with an old microphone that may have been used by the King himself. 

And so I did. This is the exact studio where not only Elvis recorded, but an entire litany of famous rock and roll personalities. Among them - Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, and Johnny Cash. 

We had so much fun ending our day at a Memphis Redbirds' game. And, of course, another Elvis sang the National Anthem. 

Day two was a hoot. 

The 2013 Elvis Pilgrimage Tour. Day one.

We headed north on Thursday. At the suggestion of Son-in-Town we stopped in Tupelo for lunch at the Neon Pig. It is an interesting little butcher shop/deli. Mr. Macho ate a smash burger. I ate some muscadine sausage tacos. Mr. Macho liked his burger. I enjoyed the tacos, but would not go out of my way to eat them again.

On a whim Mr. Macho wanted to drive through Holly Springs. Civil War history always attracts him. Holly Spring has some of that history. We drove around the town square. Mr. Macho's idea of a drive through is just that. Drive through. Not my idea. My idea is stop and walk around the town square. We drove by an old tourist trap that we have visited years ago, Graceland II. Mr. Macho did not stop. He just headed out of town. When he realized I was pouting he offered to turn around and go back. And I said I did want to do the tour. Again. So we did. Two college students drove up at the same time and we took the tour together. It was the same as before. Silly. Smelly. Strange.

Mr. Macho and our host, Paul McLeod, in one of the many rooms filled with Elvis memorabilia. 

I left Holly Springs totally satisfied. And a little funky smelling. We took wet wipes and tried to wash off the stink. To no avail.

On to Memphis. After checking into our rooms we headed downtown. Beale Street. We stopped in at the Peabody to confirm the Duck marching time. A suited employee was just putting up the red ropes in the lobby as we walked up. I asked about the march and he said we were in the perfect spot. Even though it was another 20 minutes or so until the actual march he recommended we not move. He informed us the lobby would be crammed with people and if we moved we would immediately loose our spots. So. We took his advice. Mr. Macho still did not realize what a big deal this was. Not until after it was over did he acknowledge that he was a little flabbergasted. As we waited the lobby filled to capacity. People were lining the balcony. The Red Carpet was rolled from the fountain to the elevator. The Duck Master began right on time. With a short speech on the history of the Duck March and with much fan fare the ducks marched right into the elevator. Because there were not enough children lining the red carpet adults were invited to sit. 

And that is where I got the bird's eye view of the Duck March. 

The Duck Master invited the crowd to the roof for the last party of the summer. 

We left the hotel and grabbed some good ribs at The Pig on Beale. We sat and listened to a duo at Silky O'Sullivan's. Then Mr. Macho suggested we check out the roof party at the Peabody. 

And that we did. 

It was a great sunset view of the Mississippi River. There was a really good local band playing. Young and old were dancing. Us included. The weather was ideal. It was great fun. 

When the crowd started getting super thick. We decided we were tired and left. 

It was a good start to our adventure. 

Sneak preview.

Mr. Macho suggested we take a trip. For our anniversary. To Memphis. After I quickly made the reservations, Daughter reminded me that, not only was it OUR 36th anniversary, it was the 36th anniversary of the death of Elvis. The Elvis. He died three days after we were married. In Memphis. No less. Too late. The die was cast. And so we went. 

It will take me days to tell you how much fun we had. 

This trip will heretofore be referred to as "The 2013 Elvis Pilgrimage Tour". We tried to fit as much into 3 days as we possibly could. 

***

First stop. Holly Springs, Mississippi, for a tour of Graceland II. OMG! It was much the same as when we visited 11 years ago, when Son-in-Town was a mere college student. It is a mecca for college students. In fact, we toured the house with two Ole Miss students on Thursday. 

The house is a trash heap with more Elvis crap  memorabilia than you could imagine. It smells bad. And. The proprietor's false teeth are ill fitting. And so they flap. When he talks. And. When he sings to you. Oh yes he does. If you visit three times you get to be a lifetime member. Mr. Macho assures me that this is our last time. 

We couldn't help ourselves. On Friday we toured Graceland. The real one. Again. For some reason it was even better this time than the first time. 

Friday night we attended a Memphis Redbirds baseball game. This is the minors - AAA!! It was such great fun. We got freebies, and good seats, and cheap beers before the game. The game ball was delivered by helicopter. We hollered for the home team.

I promise. I will tell you more tomorrow. Oh. There is much more. Like dancing on the roof! 

Total adventure. 

Later. 

Bonus.

A gift! Look how lovely...

 Thank you, Daughter. The flowers are beautiful.  

Tickled me pink to get these. Even though the delivery man caught me in my nightgown and robe, painting my toenails.

****

Miss P enjoyed playing beauty parlor with cousin, Lauren, last weekend. She has good hair to brush! 

Anniversary and angry birds.

Okay. I am going to name names. And products. Here. Because it has become ridiculous. My Samsung Galaxy II has grown three heads and has taken control. It has become 'The Monster'.

For one week I have been dealing with AT&T. My phone, without my knowledge or permission or control, started sending data by the "very large"KB, and went over my plan starting Wednesday. I started getting texts and emails telling me this. I spoke with a rep by phone on Thursday. Thought we resolved the issue. But then the nasty little texts and emails started again. The phone continued to send the data. Unbeknownst to me. Until the texts/emails started again. On Sunday I called AT&T again. The rep had me turn off my data. The sending stopped. But I decided to visit my local AT&T store. The young man in the store fiddle with my phone, turned off this and that, and restarted my data. Told me to download an update when I got to my home WiFi. I did. The crazy KB data sending started again as soon as he turned the data back on. So. This morning "Christopher", the AT&T rep that was unfortunate enough to answer my call early this morning thought I was a complete idiot and old lady. He kept saying I didn't understand. And I didn't understand why my phone had gone berserk. He got someone else on the line that, finally, looked at my past usage and understood that I never even come close to using my 2GB, much less, the 8 GB that have been used since last Wednesday. Finally. Someone was understanding ME!

AT&T is crediting me for the overage. None of the reps has been rude. Even though I could tell "Christopher" (the first rep I talked to this morning) was put out with me and at his wit's end, he wasn't rude. That is worth something. 'Cause I wouldn't just take his word that it was ME that was having the problem he passed me off to someone else. "Christopher" had too quickly concluded that I didn't know how to use my phone. Please. I have been successful for nearly two years using this very phone. No problems. Until now.

I have turned off my data, again. I will not turn it back on. The second rep this morning was seeing that something was very much wrong with my phone. I was given a number to call about a warranty. Which was out almost a year ago. But. I called that warranty number. The female that helped me with warranty information confirmed that the phone was, in all likelihood, broken and I need a new one. Ah. Thank you. I am not that crazy old lady that doesn't know what her phone can do. Okay. I am. But. I know when something is wrong. And this is that. Now. Something is wrong.



The end.

***
Mr. Macho is taking me to my favorite restaurant in town tonight to celebrate 36 years of wedded bliss. J. Broussard's. Yum. I like him. Mr. Macho, not J. Broussard.

Can you believe he wore a ginger colored tux when we got married? What was I thinking?! I would like a do-over. Get a more traditional tux. Black. What a hoot. Ginger.

Go out and make somebody feel important today. Be good to someone. Pay someone a compliment. Consider it an anniversary gift. To us. Make somebody's day.
Be sweet.

Empty nest. Again.

I dropped Lauren off at the half way point this morning. She was a lovely weekend houseguest. We played Uno and the flip-flop game and put a puzzle together. We went to the pool. That was fun. She can swim well and do flips backwards and forward in the water. We made a double layered pudding dessert. We ate out at a Mexican restaurant and she DID find something there that she likes to eat. Chicken nuggets. Saturday night we watched the Judy Moody movie on Disney. I liked it. Really liked it. 

After church and lunch on Sunday we spent several hours sewing. Pillows. One for her and some for her elf dolls. It was peaceful. We played more of the same games. Uncle in Town and Peyton came over for a visit. 

I miss Lauren. Already. 

***

I have phone issues that I must go into the store to resolve. It may spell a new phone. Or a new phone service. I am not sure. 

Tomorrow I must go have my tire fixed. There is a screw in it. 

***

And. It is our anniversary tomorrow. Mr. Macho and I tied the knot 36 years ago - August 13, 1977.  

3 children ago. 4.5 grandchildren ago. A lifetime ago. A good lifetime. I can barely remember life without him. Before I get all mushy I will just say that I am still crazy about him. Even after all these years. 

Anybody up for a couple of verses of "Going to the Chapel"? No?

Be sweet.

Swimming.

The pool felt like an ocean this morning. The sun was behind the clouds. There was a slight mist lifting from the water. The water was still. And warm. I was the only one in the water. I walked down the steps and spent just a few seconds at eye level with the water. It was nerve calming quiet. Then I began the swim. I didn't think I would have time to do my 25 laps. But. I complete them all. I got lost in the quiet and messed up my count again. It's okay. An extra lap here and there doesn't hurt. There are only a couple of weeks left for me to swim. Lifeguards must get back to school. Did I not mention lifeguards? Silly of me. YMCA rules are - there must be a lifeguard when anyone is in the pool. No "swimming at your own risk" for them. Every time I swim laps there is someone watching me. I forget they are there while I am swimming. On Wednesdays it feels like I am alone with the water. On Tuesdays I have a lap swim buddy. Always thank the lifeguard when I leave. It is an early hour for high school/college students to be up. And watching a middle age person swim. Boring, I would think.

The first lap and the 23rd lap I do the regular stroke up and back. Most laps I swim a regular (American crawl?) stroke up and the backstroke on my return. Every sixth lap I allow myself the breast stroke and return with an inverted breaststroke. It helps with the counting. And the breathing. Marks the progress. Sometimes I have to lie to myself to finish all 25. "This is the last lap"...and then "this is the last lap" and then...

I have never considered myself a strong or even a good swimmer. I love songs and poetry that say "just breath". That is what I try to tell myself in the pool. Just breath. At times I see how long I can hold my breath. Then I think,  "that is not the focus". Breath. Just breath. It is a good mantra. Just breath. Swimming or any other old thing that is a challenge. Just breath.  

Most of the time when I am swimming I think about which lap I am on. Or if my hands are cupped enough to propel me. Or how far it is to the end of the pool. Or if I should swim faster or just relax and enjoy the ride. Should I kick harder? Should I take a breath now or wait another two strokes? Today I got distracted thinking about sewing baby things and so totally lost my concentration that I was half way through the return of my 19th lap when I realized that I was doing the inverted breast stroke. As if someone were keeping score, I corrected it and finished the rest of the return lap with a regular backstroke.

On my backstroke I am trying to keep the water from splashing my eyes and watching for the 4 ft mark on the side of the pool. I know I only have 3 or 4 good strokes after the 4 ft mark. I have bumped my head hard when I was not paying attention. So. I watch. Out of the corner of my eye.

Before I know it this summer will be history. And I will wait and look forward to marking another summer with laps in the pool.

***

Last Saturday afternoon I cooked hobo stew. Ground meat with cut up veggies. This was originally cooked over a fire at Girl Scout camp. I just cook it on top of the stove. I had Merritt help with washing the carrots. She took a bite out of every carrot she washed. She liked them after they were cooked, too. Of course you remember soon after she was born her brother dubbed her "The Super Carrot". 

Merritt, Merritt. 

Super Carrot. 

Or simply, The Carrot. 

*****

Dirty floors are calling. 

Adios. 

Be sweet.

Quick post.

Twas a good weekend. Omens and signs did not point that way early on. The plan = to pick up Merritt Friday night so that Daughter could back-to-school shop the tax free weekend.
Thursday night...Daughter calls with stomach bug. Friday morning...my back pops when I try to pick up laundry basket. Did I cancel? NO! Warriors don't quit. This weekend, I decided to be a warrior. We know what Glennon says, "We can do hard things" and "Love wins".

So. Picked up The Carrot Friday afternoon. And spent the weekend being in tune with her almost two year old spirit. At two we are very repetitive. She wants everything "again" or "one more pime (time)". Mr. Roger's Neighborhood videos? One more 'pime'. Singing "Bringing home a baby bumblebee" on the back porch? One more 'pime'. Reading the counting book? One more 'pime'. Running on the back porch? One more 'pime'.

She is an easy baby to have over. She has graduated from the pac-n-play. She slept in a regular bed. I lay down with her for 2 minutes and she was sound asleep. Both nights. And nap time on Saturday. Excellent.

The only melt down came when washing the hair. She does not like washing the hair. At. All.

Mr. Macho spent his day Saturday weed eating and trimming bushes at his Dad's house. Labor of love. The yard is large and needs even more TLC.

My back? I used my nice foam roller to help work out the kink. And actually, my back feels better this morning than it has in weeks. No blood, no foul. We CAN do hard things.

On to the soup kitchen to feed our friends this morning. I get to be the cole slaw lady since the real one has taken a job. I think my boss doubts I can fill the shoes. What can be so hard about cole slaw? I said. We have the recipe. We have the cabbage. No problem. I'll let you know.

So. Good weekend. Another granddaughter slated to visit next weekend. Am going to look forward to that all week.

Be sweet.

Bringing home a baby bumble bee.

Going to pick up The Carrot today. She will spend the weekend with us so her Mom can shop the tax free sales for school clothes and supplies for Lauren and Tucker. 

We will have some fun. That Merritt is getting full of herself these days. Putting together words and sentences. Loving to sing. Randomly using the potty. 

In other news...Mr. Macho passed his certification with flying colors. Thrilled about it would be an extreme understatement. Such self doubt. I knew he could do it. 

Son in Town is on his way over with some pants that need hemming. 

And the beat goes on.