Grape Did It

Navigating suburbia

No comment necessary

Major distraction

I know why mother's get accused of letting themselves go. Shoot, I can't even muster an interest in brushing my hair when I could be playing with this ball of chub instead.

Water baby

Coming from a family of 4 kids, having a separate identity was majorly coveted. Somewhere along the way someone saw me swimming and said I was the water baby in our family. I wore this label like a badge and to this day am sometimes teased about it in my family. What I did not wear like a badge was the fact that I was also generally the "stocky" one or one who still had "baby fat". None of those euphamisms go over a child's head. In France (where they don't believe in self-esteem), while trying on a bathing suit, the saleswoman pantomimed me eating and then threw her arms out from her side then shook her head as if to say I can't speak english but if you keep eating all the time you will be fat. Mom, in her innocent way, called yesterday and the following conversation ensued:

"I went to lunch today with my friend Carol," (mom)

"Oh yeah, was it fun?" (me)

"It was, it was so cute,"

"Mmm hmm,"

"The restaurant is kind of like a tea house. When I showed up I thought, I have to bring Summer here! But when I looked at the menu I thought, I have to bring Hope here!"

Too open

I do, I think I am. And I've been told that a lot before in my life. Which is cool. All those phrases about keeping things close and being more guarded are smart. Not spilling all your thoughts and opinions and fears to the poor unsuspecting man who happened to ask you for the time. And I do, I try to be more aloof. I try to act mysterious and full of myself. But it gets tiring. And because I am open and emotional and not nearly as cool as I'd like to be I'm going ahead with the following story.

Two nights ago while trying to get to sleep, I threw my arm over Bud's chest and it happened to land DIRECTLY above his heart. It sounds sweet but to me it was terrifying. I could feel each pound through my arm skin and each thud was a reminder that he is alive and fallible. Each beat made me want to capture the energy his heart was creating and stow it away. Keep it in my jewelry box until the day a doctor looks at us with that "I'm so sorry" face. Then run home and present him with each extra heartbeat I kept for so many years. I am so scared ever since I fell in love with him. And I find it impossible to take life for granted much anymore. I realize how that sounds but I feel sometimes like I'm walking around with blown glass in my pocket and any wrong twist and it will be gone. Mercifully, he soon rolled over and fell asleep.

More pumpkin patch

Pumpkin patch

Yesterday we went to a pumpkin patch with my cousins. Will, 11 yrs old, pulled this itty bitty baby goat out of it's stall, something clearly against the rules. A boy after my own heart. I asked if I could hold it before we got caught and Bud managed to snap this picture. Of me and the goat. Nibbling on my hair.

Pickled pigs

Last weekend we visited friends in Starkville, Mississippi. We went out to a bar that had live music and is sort of famous for their drinks called "Pickled Pigs". After ordering two apiece (and leaving before finishing even half of the seconds) I now understand the name. On the way home we thought it would be a good idea to cut through a graveyard. A graveyard that had barbed wire fence around it. As we looped across the paths, Bud said, "this is rude, dead people don't like this, walking on their graves". I thought, they'll understand, if they've ever had a pickled pig.

Are you okay

Yes folks, that was the subject line to an email I received this morning. I am selling my car and one of the responses I got, from craigslist, did sound odd. But I wrote back thinking it might be legit and if I get some odd request for a check I either ignore it or write something back to indicate no way am I falling for this you sleazy bottom feeder. So this is what he wrote this AM (terrible formatting, I left it as-is):

"Thanks for the email response.
I have about five of my clients who are interested in
your ITEM and are ready to make immediate
payments.Payment is by cheque one of them has
responded very positively and i have given him my own
price for selling to him .
I Have added my own profit and gains to your own
asking price and they are ready to send payment
immediately.The payment by cheque is in USD .
Any amount that is above your asking price! on the
check will be sent back to me as soon as the cheque
clears into your account.I hope you understand that.
So i will like you to send me your full details so
that she can send you the cheque as soon as possible.

NAME.....................
ADDRESS...................
POSTAL CODE....................
STATE.....................
COUNTRY......................
TEL NUMBER......................
YOUR LAST ASKING PRICE
..............................

..

I will ensure that you recieve payment atleast in
10-12 working days.

As regards the pick up, as soon as you confirm to me
that the cheque is cleared in your account, i will
inform my shipper to come for the pick! up
immediatelty.
I want you to know that any profit i make from this
transaction is how i earn a living. Delete the
advert from the site you placed it for sale and they
are so much interested in buying it.

I hope you are clear with my mail

I look forward to read from you soonest.
Cheers"

Cheers indeed! I wrote him back saying I would only take a face-to-face, cash transaction. But now I'm thinking it's too bad I didn't play along for a while. SHOOT I KNOW. I should've written back and said that I'm an African Princess and if he is interested in my car he might also be interested in the 1 billion dollars ($$AMERICAN!) I just inherited after the brutal murder of my father (FORMER PRINCE OF ZIMBABWE!$). Damn I wonder if there is still time?

Hitting the nail on the head

I had one of those nights last night that would be a dream to Freud. No pun intended. But each deep seated worry I worry was trotted out at some point. Almost a montage of my anxieties, like, "What's next Johnny?" The childhood friend she still dreams about - come on down! This one includes family members and tears! Coming up next...the problem she can't seem to solve, played over and over and over again!

At one point during the night my brain finally woke me up like, enough already we've walked through this dream now 50 times and nothing is getting solved. I woke up in that in-between awake and sleep phase and decided my entire life's problems were hung up in the fact that the room was too hot. I huffed into a sitting/squatting position and yanked the cord to turn on the ceiling fan. Bud stirrred and mumbled, "What's wrong babe?"

"I'm HOT in here is all,"

"Are you going through the change of life?"