...And Just Like That

 

This is (was) where my son, Zachary lived in Newnan, Georgia. The above photo was taken Friday morning.

This photo is how it looked less than twenty four hours before.

And just like that, everything was gone in the matter of a few seemingly long seconds, but most probably less than sixty, still feeling more like a lifetime to them all.

My emotions have run the gamut... from terrified, to grateful, to thankful. 

He doesn't call me all that often here in Orlando, so when he called on a random night, I knew it was something. Mommas just know.

 

He immediately said "Mom, everything's gone. Every thing."

He had just gotten out of the walk in cooler in a local bar around the corner from the  restaurant, where they made everyone go once the tornado sirens started. He immediately checked on the restaurant and then called home to his room mates, half a mile away.

His room mates were fumbling in total darkness trying to get out of the house, with gaping holes everywhere, the roof and the walls, with rain pouring down and in, and two dogs to boot. Once outside, still in complete darkness, they were lost in a sea of downed trees and live powerlines.

Basic nightmare times ten.

They all survived, without a scratch.

The house was basically demolished, outside walls still up but all innards toast.

My Boy was homeless in less than two minutes...and I was four hundred forty four miles away.

 The response was immediate and instant...not to mention right on time.

So he's couch surfing... for now. Seems there are a lot of couches around Newnan, just waiting to be slept on.

How awesome is that? 

My hat goes off to Newnan for taking care of their own...and MY own.

If there's one thing I have learned in life and know to be all so true, it's this...

Never assume, and never dismiss that gnawing feeling.

It's there for a reason.

A grateful Momma and a lucky member of the human race.

Let's win this race together.

Till next tine...COTTON

I Am A Lucky Duck

 

Sometimes life pops up and smacks you in the face for no apparent reason.

Sometimes in a good way, and sometimes in a bad way.

I only know a handful of our neighbors by name. I wave to a lot of them or  speak over the fence as they pass. Let's put it this way, I've never been in any of their houses. Maybe I've been on a porch or two after chasing down a runaway dog to return it to the owner, but that's about it. I still feel kinda like the newbie in the hood. A lot of these families are second generation households.

The only neighbor our house is close to is a family of four, their house sits right on the other side of our privacy fence. In other words we hear them but don't see them. The couple is in their early forties with two younger sons. I'd guess around nine and four...by now. I see the husband more because he does the yard work and sometimes we do it on the same day. His wife you rarely ever see. In the two years we've lived here I have met and spoken to her once, when they were walking down the street one afternoon, to the stop sign and back.

Very short trip.

They have a small dog, with a very shrill bark...who doesn't stop. If it's outside, it's barking. It is absolutely not scared of my boxer (85 lbs) or my brother's dobe (95 lbs) and they bark through the fence at each other, relentlessly, talking their Doggie Smack. Thank goodness we put up a new fence, the old one was pretty shaky towards the back of the yard and their little dog has gotten into our yard more than once through a small opening. Thank goodness my dogs have never been out when it happened.

Actually it did happen once, when we still had our big boxer, Ham.

 He was a solid ninety pounds of pure muscle but blind as a bat. Had been for years and years. (juvenile cataracts) He had a hard time adjusting to this new home. There were so many gardens, paths, trees and vines, every which a way. He would get lost every time we let him out to do his business and would wind up tangled in vines or stuck behind a bush, not knowing where he was. It broke my heart. But one afternoon he went out for his daily business, and was wondering around in the front yard...while our neighbor's dog was exploring our back yard, after getting through the fence. Ham never even knew he was there. Thank goodness.

It was kind of strange living next door to them. The dad was always the one who walked the dog or pushed the (then about two) younger son in a stroller while the older boy ran along beside them. You never saw the wife.

Just that once.

 She would pull in the driveway with her car and she and the boys would go inside after her picking them up from school, but last year around this time, school was pretty much cancelled and went virtual.

So her car didn't move all that much after that.

Of course, neither did my car. I haven't worked since March of last year and only leave the house for essentials. 

But that little dog...

As the months passed by, it seemed to bark all the time when it was outside, and they never seemed to be in a rush to let it back in. Some mornings or afternoons, it would bark for well over an hour. I'm surprised its little barker didn't give out. It's a good thing I really like dogs, because I used to lay in my own bed, listening to it bark in the mornings, and bark and bark... knowing if  I could hear from my own bed, they could certainly hear it from theirs.

Fast forward to just two weeks ago.

  My husband (who has never, ever worked in the yards before us moving here) was out trimming some banana trees near our neighbors' side of the yard. He ran into the husband and they talked for a minute or two. Tim's not much of a talker so it kinda surprised me.

I feel like the most self centered person, ever.

Tim came inside and said "Did you know our neighbor's wife has been battling cancer for the past four years?"

First shoe drops.

Massey googled their name and found an article about how our neighbor's wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer while pregnant and in her second trimester with their youngest son, four years ago. She went through chemo during the rest of her pregnancy after a mastectomy. They followed up with radiation after she delivered a healthy boy.

Second shoe drops.

The cancer returned, has spread and she is currently in the hospital on life support. 

Do you know how selfish and small I feel?

Even worse, how do you think she felt, laying in her own bed, hearing her little dog bark outside, but simply too weak to even get up and let it back in.

I could have done that. I could have walked that dog, I could have let the dog in after going out. I could have walked over there one day when I saw her at the mailbox, even though our mailboxes aren't that close together.

If I'd done that, maybe I would have realized how sick this poor young mother of two was...living steps away from my own house.

 I could have, but I didn't.

 Instead it was a running joke about "The dog next door is barking again. Shocker!"

But it's too late for me to be the better person. That little dog tried to tell me. I truly believe it did. I just didn't listen hard enough.

I'm old school, but Lassie episodes (in the sixties) would be all about Lassie barking relentlessly to let little Timmy know that somewhere help was needed!

I heard the call but failed to recognize it. And me, a dog person! I should be ashamed, and I am.  There's been an older gentleman over there this past week, pretty much round the clock. He was out getting their mail when I was getting ours last week. I threw up the neighborly hand wave and he responded with the same. I motioned to him and walked over.

I asked if everything was okay with our neighbor's wife? It was not.

She was currently on life support, he told me, and introduced himself. He was her father in law, staying there to help out his son with the boys, who weren't aware of the severity of their mother's illness.

So for months and months as I made light of the little yapping dog next door who they just let bark and bark and bark...this young woman, wife and mother of two, lay in her bed too weak to probably even turn over much less go to the door and let a dog back inside, was trying to also take care of two young sons while her husband went to work to provide for them all...as I was sitting right next door, with nothing but time on my hands.

My husband came inside the other day after working in the yards and remarked that we needed to pray for our neighbors, there were an awful lot of cars over there and he wasn't so sure it was a cook out or celebratory get together.

It wasn't. It was visitation by friends and family.

When I met the father in law at the mailbox I asked if we could at least help feed them so they wouldn't have to worry about cooking. He accepted the offer and I went and got them stuff to make sandwiches, chips, some fruit and snacks and paper products where clean up would be minimal. 

It's the craziest thing. The little dog doesn't bark outside like she used to. Her message was finally received, by the slowest human neighbor ever.

I should have stopped her one of the rare days I saw her getting out of her car and walked over to introduce myself, but I didn't.

I chose to stay on my side of the fence and assume what was going on on their side...they had an annoying dog.

No, they had a dog who was trying to tell me I needed to come over and make sure everything was okay with its owners.

 I've been cooking for them every day or so, sending over things in throw away pans and hopefully entrees which will last a day or two.

Lots of visitors.

Tim has been working out of town all week but walked over this morning when he saw the father in law cutting the front yard, introduced himself and asked how she was doing? 

She died yesterday afternoon. 

Not even forty five years old.  The cancer came back with a vengeance , this time in her spine, then spread to her liver. After quarantine it was harder to get appointments and treatment for her and of course was given the run around by insurance and red tape.

And I was next door the entire time, doing nothing. I told Tim I didn't want to ever let that happen again. My presence couldn't have cured her cancer but it sure could have eased her mind, if only just a little bit.

It was a bitter lesson for me...you always need to be a bigger person, because you simply never know.

We will continue to help this family out any way we can. I'm just so sorry it took us so long.

https://www.clickorlando.com/news/2017/08/10/orlando-woman-delivers-baby-while-fighting-breast-cancer/  

(copy and paste the above into your browser)

They are very quiet and private people, and never once complained or asked for help of any kind. They relied on their faith. They are good decent people. We should have read between the lines or simply gone over there to introduce ourselves and extended the hand of friendship two years ago. 

I hate that I learned a valuable lesson at my neighbor's expense.

Always remember, if you don't know the whole story, never assume.

As one of my high school teachers used to say, "Assume: it makes an Ass out of  U and Me."

Till next time,

COTTON

You Gotta Laugh...Seriously!

 

Anybody who knows me or is even just around me for  five minutes knows I'm crazy.

I've said it before and I'll say it again.

I like being a goofball.

I can find something to laugh at, at any given point in time, about nothing or about the direst of situations. Trust me, it makes you feel better in the long run. I can't begin to count how many church services, weddings, funerals, award ceremonies, meetings or important appointments I have found myself so tickled about something that I can't stop laughing. The harder I try and stop, the more I want to giggle. Especially if I am with my sister.

I remember a funeral years and years ago, probably twenty, that my sister and I were sitting together at a funeral for a former classmates parent. My sister always gets nervous because she has a terrible memory but absolutely everyone remembers her and comes up to speak, with hand extended and calling her by name. My job as younger sister (who both my siblings call Rain Woman) is to lean over nonchalantly and whisper their name in her ear and maybe a tidbit about where she knew them from. I still remember a lot of childhood friends' telephone numbers or addresses, what kind of car their parents drove and what their pets names were. I remember all our teachers and all our parents' friends, going back to the early sixties.

It's a gift.

I am Rain Woman.

So any way, we were sitting at this funeral, and believe it or not, we got there early and sat down. People began walking in and I would tell my sister who every one was, as they headed in our direction to speak with us. (that's why we try and get there last minute)

I had everyone pegged correctly with my secret whisperings in her ear and made my sister look like she had just seen them last week at the store. Trust me, she doesn't even remember what she bought at the store last week.

So out of the blue this old codger with faded jeans and a rather large belt buckle appeared at the back of the church. He had long, I mean LONG hair, flowing like gray wire and a beard almost down to his stars and bars belt buckle on his faded Wrangler jeans. He was also wearing (of course) dark glasses and cowboy boots. We grew up way down south (in the land of cotton) if you get my drift. #smh

 My sister seemed nervous as he came in our direction to sit behind us. She asked, with her hand in front of her mouth, "Who is that?"

I didn't miss a beat and whispered (with fake sincerity) "He's one of the lead singers in ZZ Top."

We laughed the entire funeral.  We would get ourselves together, but if one of us looked at the other one, we fell apart all over again. I don't think anyone noticed us and thank goodness we'd sat in the back and were the first ones to leave. I'm glad we didn't sign the book.

Going somewhere solemn with my brother is even worse. If all three of us are together, it's a lost cause.

We lost our mother in 1977 and our father in 2002.

In hindsight they both may have possibly died of embarrassment.

We're a lot.

Yeah, I'm nuts. But so are they.

I remember the time my sister said one of her flight attendant friends said to her on a work trip, "Did I see a picture on Facebook of your sister on a dog bed with a toy bone in her mouth?"

My sister just said yes.

 No need to try and explain me.

The similarity between above and below is uncanny.

I'm a legend in my own tiny mind.

At least my brother and sister are a lot smarter than me and have gone lot further in life, career wise... while I slung plates around for a living.

(and I don't mean spinning them on a long stick)

They have been awesome to be able and fall back on, and have always been there for me.

I'm not sure if they really love me, as much as just feel sorry for me, but I'll take it either way I can get it.

My sister gave me this card a few years ago. You know how you'll keep a card someone gives you for a few weeks, maybe shuffling it from the letter rack to a junk drawer and finally end using it to jot a number down on and eventually throw it away after several months?

Not me.

 If someone gives me something I really relate to or love, no matter how small or insignificant, I'll keep it.

Forever.

This card my sister gave me one birthday, years ago is one of those things.

 I still have it today, and will still have it when they clean out my locker at the insane asylum for old peeps nobody can tolerate, as I sit in a chair petting a fake battery operated dog. (I'm not big on cats)

On the inside it simply read:

 ''There's you, and then there's everybody else. Happy Birthday, you."

TOUCHE'

I think Jimmy Buffet sums me up best...

"It's these changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

Nothing remains quite the same

With all of our running and all of our cunning

If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane."

So I'll just sashay my crazy little self on down the road of life, laughing as much as I can, for as long as I can. Crying's not near as much fun.

Till next time,

COTTON

Guess I Am Old After All

 

 

So today we decided to trim back the rest of  the yards surrounding the house itself. When the new privacy fence went up, Tim and Massey trimmed everything back and out of the way for the fence guys.

 This is the old fence they hauled away.

 We had Sunflowers that were about twenty feet, they trimmed them down to about a foot high the week before Christmas. They are already flourishing again and came back thicker, healthier looking and are already six feet high.

Our Key Lime tree already has half a dozen limes on it and the peach tree is beginning to blossom. We have five banana trees and after removing all the dead leaves, they are growing like crazy. I have about four or five different types of palms, aloe plants and about four different types of cacti. We googled one today and found out it was a pencil cactus. When we trimmed it back, a white foam oozed out of the fresh cut branches. Same with the giant elephant ears, when you cut back ones that have fallen over, the stalks are loaded with (what I am assuming is) water. I can identify the azaleas because we had those back home in Georgia. They pretty much bloom year round here. I have a hibiscus tree outside my bedroom window, it is fairly young so is still staked up but always has one exquisite and perfect flower on it. I've started dumping a bucket of water with Miracle Gro in it on each and every plant and tree in the yard , twice a month. The results have been amazing. My jasmine and wisteria are thick as a green wall on the fences and lattice work. The pergola is covered with Bleeding Heart, some red and some white. I have three trees in my front yard which I discovered were Trumpets and have the most delicate light pink flowers on them. Wild ferns are everywhere and so are Crotons and mother in law tongues...they call them snake plants here. Philodendron and huge vines travel up the live oaks in the back yard and make it look like a Tarzan movie was shot there.

With a yard like ours, we have (finally) learned it is all about pruning back to encourage healthy regrowth. I have so many plants I don't even know the name of, but am slowly learning. One of Massey's best friends told me about the Google app where you take a picture of something and it tells you what it is. 

The lady who lived here before us had a gardener. Now we're the gardeners. Keeping the grass cut is easy peasy, I go down the street to my brother's house and ride his Johnny Dear back to my house and have it all cut in under an hour. 

Let me show you the pergola now. Tim and Massey were like Mad Hackers!

It is so light and sunny. The plants can breathe again!

They used the loppers, the electric hedger and clippers. They amassed quite the pile, in under thirty minutes.

I went down to my brothers house and borrowed six of his huge cans used for yard debris. We only have three. *note to self, buy lots more*

Cutting and hacking simply isn't my forte anymore. It used to be, about ten years ago, but once I hit sixty, it's like my body said...
"Hey, I'm old now. Don't push me anymore. You wore me out slinging dishes and toting buckets of ice for forty years."

I will have to add I am an excellent sidekick and go-fer. I'm handy with a rake and broom and can clean up behind any kind of mess they have to make. It's just the upper body strength I lack these days, which makes me feel like an old lady.

Guess it a good thing I am an old lady.

Birthdays don't lie.

I'm not middle aged anymore; meaning I don't know a lot of (any) people who are a hundred twenty. Kinda depressing, but I'm still a glass half full person.

I've gotten so spoiled since my forced early retirement. I get up every day and put on shorts, a tank top or sports bra with flip flops. I've worn flip flops so much, my feet hurt after wearing actual shoes. Even tennis shoes. If I wear tennis shoes that means I have to wear socks or footies and I don't need any added clothing with my hot flashes. A hook on bra is simply out of the question. So are long pants. Today Massey went and got me some gardening gloves out of the garage to wear. Even my hands got hot so I took them off. Getting fingernails dirty never killed anybody. Hot flashes feel like they could.

We filled up nine huge cans, and  they bundled up the tree limbs with twine. The good thing is that every Wednesday here is yard debris and big item day. They will take as much as you leave by the curb, as long as it is in cans, leaf bags or tied into bundles. You can put furniture or appliances out curbside too if you want. It's like free delivery for the dump and you don't even have to make the trip.

So I'm the new designated Cleaner Upper. I got up all the bleeding heart vines they cut out, three cans full, and snapped some of the smaller twigs. I raked up all the clippings, bagged them and swept the porches.

Massey and I were talking yesterday out in the yard. I was in the hammock and she was reading in one of the Adirondack chairs. We started talking about our big plans for today, purging the yards of all the overgrowth.

The entire time we lived in Jonesboro after Tim and I first met, through twenty more years of living in Newnan, he never worked in the yards, or even cut them. I came in like a bull and took over all the yard work. Not surprisingly, he let me. I even rolled the trash out every week and rolled the cans back. He worked long hours at a job he hated and when he would finally get home, he was definitely off the clock. 

Since we've bought this small but lush piece of paradise, he has worked in the yards or helped out every single week. I keep the yards mowed, he (and Massey) keep it under control, from getting out of control. When you live somewhere and things grow and bloom year round, it's a year round job to keep it from getting out of hand or taking over.

Tim was a hard sell on this house to begin with, but Massey and I wore him down like the naggers we are. He has mentioned time and time again how grateful he is that we kept on him to buy this place.

It's not the grandest house, but is the perfect house for us.

Here's the thing I love about yard work. Yes it's hard work, but the results are instantly rewarding, and bonus points, even neighbors notice, whether they say anything or not.  I've never had a neighbor stop me at the mailbox and say "You really know how to keep a toilet clean."

So I'm not going to worry about growing old and my body slowing down just a bit. I'm actually surprised its lasted this long.

I'm simply going to enjoy and appreciate every single day and strive to live life to the best of my recently discovered "ability."

Everything else is gravy.

So true.

Till next time...COTTON