Spring Done Sprung

While the northeast is getting pounded again and again and again with nor'easter and still pretty chilly back in Georgia with snow and freezing temps, Spring has sprung here in Otown. We've had a couple of days when it dropped to the forties overnight but once that sun comes up, so do the temps. I was listening to the news early this morning, the weather dude said "Grab a sweatshirt on your way out the door this morning."

That's all the winter I need anymore.

Living in Georgia for well over half a century, I experienced enough cold weather to last me a life time.

                                   If I want winter now, I simply go back home for a visit.



I like living in the land of eternal flip flop season. Only downside is I have to keep my toenails polished year round. I'm so old the hair on my legs apparently went somewhere else to live.

My chin and upper lip.

One at a time...literally.

Note to post menopausal women everywhere: Keep a pair of tweezers and magnifying mirror handy when you hit your late fifties.

At least I only have to shave my legs once a month now (if that often) and they still look like Massey's, which she shaves daily.

                        I guess what I'm saying is growing old has its good points and bad points.

Heck, life has good points and bad points...with the only actual bad point being not waking up.



The great part about living in central Florida is that you can plant or grow anything pretty much year round.  Even though we're still renting (for now) and had to extend our lease one more time, whoever moves in next will have a terrific yard waiting for them with about twenty different types of perennials blooming almost twelve months out of the year.



One thing I miss is my big yard back in Georgia, especially this time of year.

 I've never been really picky about how my house looks on the inside but am a fanatic  about my yards.

Our front yard here in Orlando is pretty small. The backyard is even smaller. The landlord pays a guy to do the yard work but is never up to my standards. They miss spots, which drives me nuts and aren't the best weed eater operators. I remember one time back home when I used to cut the front of our subdivision twice a month. I was taking the kids to school one morning and was at the stop sign at the end of our street, waiting to turn on to the main road. I put my car in park and got out to pull one tall weed I  had inadvertently missed the day before. I looked back and Massey was sitting in the car, shaking her head, while rolling her eyes.


I don't have my weed eater here with me, it's still in the garage of our old house. If I did have it here, would most certainly go out after the yard guys left and trim all the weeds they missed myself.

Instead I focused on the front yard which was pretty dull when we first moved in. I pulled weeds by hand for two days straight in an overgrown former flower bed and planted a ton of seed packets I had from my nephew's wedding. They had given them as gifts at their wedding and I took home every single packet guests forgot to take with them.

I planted them all about the second week after we moved in (mid October) and two weeks later they were popping up like crazy... in November!


Unfortunately I didn't keep up with the clipping of dying ones, drying them out and replanting the seeds from the center and by this spring once again had an empty flower bed. There was one type flower, totally in the center that did come up again this year. It's the tallest green one in this photo, which blooms red.

I caught bulbs on sale at Big Lots. Three dollars, with three bulbs in each packet!  Gladiolas, Brown Eyed Susan's, Lillie's of the Valley, and about ten other varieties.

 The last time I stopped in they had a roll out, ten foot long organic mat for flowers which attract hummingbirds. That's right...on sale for $3.99.

I went home and dug out the hummingbird feeder from a box in the garage that Massey had given me for Mother's Day a few years back, took it apart, cleaned and washed it and loaded it with homemade nectar. It now hangs outside, over the center of my kitchen window.

I wasn't real crazy about cleaning out the area underneath the window, I saw a snake back there one time, but put on shoes instead of flip flops and did it anyway.

It's not a fancy house. It's a tiny house. But it's our house, for now. If I have to live there another six months, so be it...but if I have to back out of that (also) tiny garage every day to leave that tiny house, I want to look at an awesomely groomed tiny little yard.

We don't really have a winter season here.We have a dry season. It rains every day (usually for about twenty minutes) all summer long and makes everything lush and beautiful. During the dry spell, wildfire season occurs. Our grass is barely existent now.


BINGO!!

Big Lots also had bags of grass seed on sale for five bucks.

What kind? I don't know.

Oh yeah I do.

The cheap kind!

So I'm also spreading by hand (the push spreader is also in my garage back home in Georgia) two bags of "I don't care what kind of" grass seed and watering the yard and my flower beds twice a day.

Going back for another bag tomorrow to randomly toss  in our back yard. The dogs go to scratch their backs on the grass and get up looking like they rolled in a hay stack. With all their pooping, that grass ought to be well fertilized and green as grass in no time!


Baby steps.

Be happy where ever you are in life.

It could always be worse and sometimes may be, but if you keep on keeping on and give life your best shot...the chances for success always increase.

It took me a long time to feel comfortable enough to call Orlando home but is now...and that's okay too.

                                         Can't wait to post pics when all my planting blooms.



Negativity brings nothing but negativity, so why focus on it?

My husband always says (used to drive me nuts) "You can't go back" but he is exactly right.

You can't.

Move on, press forward, hope for the best, and prepare for the worst.


'Lather, rinse and repeat.'

That  should be life's mantra.

I'm getting old, actually seventy five percent of the way there, but trying and keep a younger mindset...even with all my wrinkles and batttle scars.

Along the way I have learned one very important thing.

As long as you fill your life with family and true friends; they will be warriors who will always have your back...and you will be okay.

And I am.

                                            Older, a little bit wiser and grateful to be both.



I'm not going home again, unless for a visit and will try and do so often. Sometimes you can't get it out of your head...but I've always been a slow learner.

Till next time...COTTON

OUCH!!

I was at work the other day and two different coworkers commented on how good my hair looked. Any woman will tell you, it's awesome to have a good hair day. Then another server also reminded me what I have always said about having a short haircut...

"When your hair looks its best, it's time to get it cut again, soon!"

Unfortunately I was in the midst of an exhausting work week and kept putting off getting 'muh hurr did' and true to my own words, woke up for work the very next day and couldn't get my hair to do right to save my life.

When my hair begins to grow out, the top of the back of my hair makes me resemble a lowland gorilla and is too top heavy to spike up like I usually wear it.

So for five more days I worked having a bad hair day, every day and not one single person told me my hair looked good.

When you are already by far the oldest person at work...that doesn't help your ego much.

I was finally off today, day one of a three day staycation from work and had a haircut on the top of my 'ToDo' list.

I'm a low maintenance kind of gal. I never pay more than $13.99 for a haircut and as a server always tip them six bucks. You can't beat getting your hurr did, plus tip, for less than twenty buckaroos!

Of course when you have short hair, have to make sure they know what they are doing and know what you want.  I like a razor cut. It looks better and for some weird reason love the way it feels when they drag the razor through my hair.

If they don't know what they are doing, what are you gonna do, shave your head and start over? When your hair is an inch long it doesn't leave room for do overs.

I checked in online and didn't have to wait when I got there. I didn't recognize any of the women working but took my chances, just saying I wanted someone who knew how to do a razor cut.

She did a great job and listened to me when I told her how I usually wore my hair when it wasn't Silver back gorilla length.

I bought a can of the designing taffy to mail back home to a high school friend who recently cut her own hair short like mine. I had bought her a can before Christmas but never mailed it;  my own ran out and started using the one I'd bought for her.

I got back to my car and looked at my receipt before starting the car

It was a defining moment in my not so young life and kind of made my heart sink.

What?!!

I was thinking; would have preferred to pay the $14.99 and leave without them all talking how good an old lady tips.

Adding insult to injury, after counting my change before putting it away in the car, had also been shorted ten bucks.

Already humiliated, I sat in my car for a good five minutes debating whether or not to go back.

Number one, I gotta start wearing makeup when off work and leave the house to go out.

Number two, ten bucks is a lot of money.

Number three, guess I gotta face facts...I'm closer to being sixty than from.

They were very nice and gave me the ten bucks back when I made myself go back, which 'twernt' an easy thing to do, especially without my walker...(shoot me now).


Getting older comes with a lot of new discoveries, not all good. I get hot flashes which could boil a pot of water in five seconds. I put on makeup for every work day, having to use a magnifying mirror and every month or so discover a random single hair sprouting from my chin or upper lip, and pluck it hoping no one else noticed it first. I have more wrinkles than freckles on my face now. I don't know any of the songs which play on the sound system at work but after hearing the same ones for over a year now, do...and not really a big fan.

I've been lucky in more ways than one, or two.

I worked in my kids' elementary school for seven years when they attended there, kinda keeping me in the loop with tweens. I've been a server for almost forty years, and for the past two or three decades have always worked with people at least half my age, dragging me into the future along with them.

Getting older isn't pretty sometimes, but sure beats the alternative.

Trust me.

Till next time, Granny Cotton

Another Work Week Done

Spring had BETTER be just around the corner because this ole southern gal is sick of all this cold weather. Cold again today with rain...just super! (not)

We have three big dogs and one of them is blind so needs to be kept separated from the youngest who is a live wire. Ziggy's his name and trouble's his game. He means well, just still such a pup that he wants to pounce on Ham (the blind one) to play but makes Ham nervous and usually ends in a dog fight. Ham is a momma's boy. If I am in my bedroom with him and the door is closed, he's happy as an eighty pound clam. If I walk out of the room and shut the door behind me he lays by the door sniffing and whining until I come back. He sleeps right between Tim and me at night.

My back's been hurting me for the past week or so and sometimes so bad that only Tim massage's give me any relief. We quickly learned Ham ain't about NOBODY touching his momma. He may not be able to see but the minute Tim starts to massage my back he senses it and goes straight into protection mode. He nibbles at Tim's hands and wedges himself between Tim and me. He's pretty persistent. Tim's mentioned before that if anyone ever tried to attack me, Ham would most probably kill them first. I like it when the big ole hound spoons me back to back at night, he's sturdy support. Tim hates it because that means he gets Ham's huge paws in HIS back.

I felt better today. I have come to realize that although Tim's massages feel wonderful and give me immediate relief, nothing will help it permanently go away except daily and nightly stretching. It beats doctor bills so have resigned myself to the fact I have to include them every day and every night.

Thank goodness I am old enough to remember the Jane Fonda workout video. The first twenty minutes were all stretching and still remember them, in order. I remember her saying "Knees soft, shoulders back, head up" and even remember how many repetitions she did of each exercise. I suppose it's a small price to pay to be able to not only walk but work. The pain is all on the right side of my body. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. I've been a server since 1979. I've been carrying heavy plates and trays with just my left arm for well over thirty years six sometimes seven days a week and has my body out of whack and off balance. Actually, Tim came up with the theory but makes perfect sense...although I am sure Tim could be a rocket scientist if he wanted to. (not)

I had to work at three thirty today so went into the living room to watch Grey's Anatomy for an hour and stretch the entire time, thinking of Jane Fonda and all her instructions. Here's another plus. If that workout is part of what kept Jane Fonda looking the way she does today in her later seventies, I'm all for it.

Speaking of late seventies, tonight I had a request party of fourteen, most all over seventy and then some. Every single man at the table wore a hearing aide and all the women wore a perfectly matching outfit. They had requested me because one of the women's son is my husband's best friend. The reservation was for six thirty, the first couple showed up five forty five and asked with surprised amazement "Are we the first ones here?"  I guess when you are retired you have plenty of spare time. I'll never know that feeling!

All fourteen showed up well before six thirty and the party started! They all ordered water but saw a few looking over the wine list. I went straight to my husband's best friend's mom and said "Let's have a glass of wine, I bet if you order one they will all follow suit." (and they did)

The minute they sat down, a few of them got out discount cards and had them by their plate (just in case they forgot)

They all live in a subdivision right around the corner from us. When the subdivision was first built it was exclusively for peeps over fifty five. Once the economy tanked the builders let ANYONE buy. This ticked off the old peeps and  can't much blame them but can't much blame the builders either. Now the ole peeps have kids playing in the streets,  at the pool and teens with music blaring from cars they drive too fast through the ole peep's neighborhood.

It went flawlessly once I got them to a drinking! I'm kidding, they only had one glass of wine but  chatted them all up and by the end of the dinner they loved me. They tipped me well over twenty percent and with the few other tables I had made enough to take the next two days off and get my STRETCH on!

I think about how much my back hurts me at fifty four and wonder how much THEY hurt being well over seventy? Guess none of them were servers in their youth because they all seemed fine to me.

I'm just so happy to have two days off in a row again...a girl can start to get spoiled with this kind of free time but has sure helped in getting my house in order.

One of the Lost Boys in our house is moving out! Unfortunately it is the one who helped us out the most financially...in other words, not either of my sons. At least my garage will be a lot emptier. He's taking his washer and dryer with him along with a kitchen table, chairs, bookcases and lots of tools.

Segway "Back" to me.

Here's the thing. I HATE stretching. Tim is a great trainer and makes me do it... but  need to do it when I get home from work and he is asleep. I need to do it before I go to work when he's sometimes not here. I need to do it several times a day when I'm not working. At least this latest attack has made me so miserable  realize now I HAVE to do it or learn how to wait tables from a wheelchair I will be forced to buy from either Goodwill or the Salvation Army. Maybe I can find one with a tray attached to the top of the handles.

Tim has assured me the more I stretch the better I will feel. I'm going to take his advice and give it my all the next two days.

It's getting late but since Zach bought us Netflix, I'm going upstairs into the living room and watch some Breaking Bad while I stretch out my breaking back.

Til next time...COTTON

Another Day...That's Always a Good Thing

Went into work this morning feeling either somewhat better or just getting used to being uncomfortable. My first  table was three old peeps, a married couple and another woman. I love waiting on older folks, even if they are grumpy. I  usually win them over and if I don't,  at least give them something to gripe about in their land yacht on the slow drive back home. It was only eleven in the morning but the temp was already in the upper seventies. They sat down and the man said "I should have brought my over coat, it's still kind of chilly. I'll have a cup of coffee." (I already had sweat stains under my arms and it was my first table)

 The gentleman brought up his dog in the course of conversation and I asked what kind he had? He said a Neapolitan Mastiff that weighed 147 pounds. Holy cow! (Pun intended) He said someone had simply moved out of a house and left the dog chained to a tree. He spent $800 at the Vet getting the dog well and had named him George. They were the sweetest three people and it was a wonderful way to start off my long day. After they finished eating I told him he needed to bring me a picture of George next time they came in, to which he replied "You know, someone just moved out of a house and left him there...chained to a tree. It cost me $800 to get him well but I did it."

The woman who was with them decided she wanted  Tiramisu so they split one.  I took them the check and the man pulled a million dollar bill out of his wallet to pay with. He said the only other money he had was Confederate money and asked if we took that? I asked him if he knew how to wash dishes and hollered over my shoulder toward the kitchen "Hold the dishes!"  He LOVED that one so I added "Do you speak Spanish? If you don't  you will soon."

He paid the bill and left me a nice hefty tip. I told them to all have a great weekend and be sure to remember that picture of George. He didn't pause one second before saying "You know I found that dog chained to a tree, can you  believe somebody would do that?"  His wife said (not in a mean way but slightly rolling her eyes) "You've told her that story three times."

This will "SO" be Tim and me in twenty years, with the roles reversed.

Lunch wasn't busy but all my tables showed me some love and I did okay. I was up front in the lobby sitting by Barb who was auditing checks when she asked how my back felt? I told her I thought it felt better but kinda wondered if maybe I was just getting used to feeling like crap?

She casually said "Are you sure it's your back?"

That got me "Athinking". As an almost 52 year old woman my body has changed tremendously in  the past couple of years. I don't have a regular cycle but when I do have one my back absolutely kills me for a few days before "It" starts. About three years ago I started having these weird feelings right above my stomach. It was a constant but dull pain and after talking with several of my regular customers AKA "my doctors" they mentioned I may have acid reflux or an ulcer and recommended Prilosec. I bought some and after the first dose felt immediate relief. Fast forward to now..

I knew my back was hurting but it just didn't feel right. I have terrible eating habits (which Barb not so politely pointed out.)  I sometimes go all day without eating but before bed will cook a big pan of Totinos pizza rolls or have a big bowl of chili with japs and Habanero cheese. During the lunch shift today I was hungry and fixed me a mater samich loaded with pepper and mayo.

When I got off I went to Dollar General and bought some Prilosec. Eleven bucks for fourteen pills...are they proud of their product or what? It said  take one tablet with a full glass of water before eating. I had already eaten the most acidic thing possible, a mater samich but had a full cup of water with me in  the car so I popped one into my mouth. By the time I got home I was feeling some relief.

I washed my car did two loads of laundry and felt pretty stinking good. My back still hurt a little but most of my pain had disappeared.

My back is till sore but NOTHING like it was. I told a friend of mine "Here's the thing..skinny as I am my stomach is only about an inch from my back. Maybe I confused my symptoms."

 I'm almost fifty two and falling apart... but little by little day by day I am learning how to cope with it. Raising teens, dealing with stress and taking horrible care of myself ain't helping but realizing symptoms and changing habits will. I'm all excited about taking my Prilosec in  the morning before I eat anything and see how I feel.

Massey is spending the night with a friend, Zach is still at work and Tim is leaving for work.
It's just me... two pups... three baskets of clean laundry waiting to be folded and put away and one dishwasher waiting to be unloaded.

No wonder I have an ulcer!

Til next  time...COTTON feeling MUCH better!

My Back's Killing Me But My Broom Did a Trick

 So I go into work this morning at 10:30.  Around noon my back started hurting. I know the sign all too well. About once every year or so my back goes out for a day...sometimes two. It kills me when the spasms hit. By the time I left for my break between shifts I was gripping the steering wheel like a vise and trying to sit as straight as possible in the seat of the car. I went by and paid two of the giants I detest the most...cable and cell phone.

 I just didn't have it in me to argue with either corporate giant as previously  planned so I just threw both some money  to shut them up and went to pick up Massey from school. When she got in  the car I  threw it in gear and came home to find the heating pad.

 If I could manage to do  the excercise in the above photo I  think I would be okay but I can't so I did what old women do, apply a heating pad and pray while flat on my back for thirty minutes. When Massey hollered from her room that it was time for me to leave for work I convinced myself that my back felt better as I left with eight minutes to spare to get back to work. After a cup of coffee, probably my seventh of the day I said outloud to no one in particular..."Yeah, I feel a LOT better now."

By six thirty I was sweating...from coffee, menopausal hot flashes AND the back ache.  Somehow I made it through and luckily was cut by 9:00.  I did my side work, cleaned my section of tables and was looking around for a bullet to bite on by  the time I clocked out. Zach had to go in earlier than me and had driven Tim's car to work so I drove it home to put gas in it and have it back at  house for him to take to work leaving my car for Zach to drive home when he got off. For once the hard booster seat behind my back felt GREAT and I treated myself to a six pack of cheap Natty Lights after I gassed up his military tank of a car.

I came home and sat down at  the computer (bringing my heating pad with me.)  Stupid heating pad has an auto shut off so I have to keep turning it back on but am feeling better. May be the heat may be the Natty Light but at least I feel better. Tim got up for work and I got up  to see if the Spring Solstice  thing was right or a lot of hooey. Everyone has been talking about how during the Solstice your broom can stand up by itself. I hated leaving my heating pad but just wanted to see....

I'll be darned...it really worked! I was so impressed that I actually took a picture of my own kitchen broom. Maybe it was just wanting to run away from  the hovel I call home but dangit the thing stood there by itself !

I felt like David Copperfield with a bad back!

I'm taking my heating pad and vacuuming a small spot of the carpet free of dog hair and plugging in my new BFF (the heating pad) and sleeping flat on my back on  the floor.

If my broom can stand on it's own... so can I tomorrow (hopefully.)

It's sucks getting old but at least I am alive to enjoy my suffering!

Til next time...COTTON with the magic broom!

OOPS!!

Got home from a double shift on Sunday night. I should have gone to bed but of course I didn't. Tim needed the computer for work so I headed to the living room with a bottle of Murphy's oil soap, a bottle of Windex and a bottle of my buddy,  Mr. Clean. I dusted and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. Front windows, TV, mantle and fireplace, tables lamps and the kid's game systems. I watched Grand Torino while I did all this and was exhausted by  the movie more than the cleaning. Cleaned cobwebs from the walls with a broom and plucked dead leaves from all the plants. I finished cleaning and cried like a baby at the end of Grand Torino like it was the first time I had watched it.

Went to bed after a snack of peanut butter and crackers and that is all I remember...

Woke up this morning to the sound of rain pounding my house like a wake up call. Unfortunately it WAS my wake up call. The clock by  the bed said 10:36.  I was supposed to be at work at 10:30.

I HATE waking up that way! I ran into the bathroom to wash my face and screamed into Zach's room "Get up...you gotta take me to work, NOW!"

I called Barb and told her I overslept. I slapped on some more deodorant and wet my hair down, stuffed my make up into a zip lock baggie and was in the car five minutes after waking up. I got to work and by  the grace of God we didn't have anyone come in right at opening. I went in the restroom to put on "My Face" and couldn't see what I was doing. I use a magnifying mirror at the house which almost helps. At work...I was as blind as Helen Keller. I need my glasses to see anything close up, but how do you put on mascara with glasses ON?

I just stood far back from all my tables and tried to smile a lot, smiling always helps! Zach and Massey picked me up after my lunch shift and I went home and assumed the position for forty five minutes between shifts. That would be assuming I was flat on my back ,  to not muss my pitiful make up job or hair do. I woke forty three minutes later and screamed downstairs to Massey  to bring up the zip lock baggie with my make up in it off the kitchen table. I put on a little more blush and wiped away the smudges from my blind mis guided mascara strokes from earlier this morning.

I touched up my face in  my magnifying mirror (an old woman's bestie) and headed back to work. Had an excellent night at work. It was slow but I waited on four tables and walked out with a pile of money... maybe they were pity tips for the pitiful way I looked but "I'll Take'em" any way I can gettum!

Heading back to bed...dang this old age is creeping up on me sooner than I would have liked, but it still beats the alternative!

Setting my alarm now...COTTON

What a Weekend...

I don't want to say this past weekend aged me...but what do you think? At least I still have a smile on my face and my lipstick still looks fresh.

It all began Friday morning after my precious eighteen year old caused me to have three hours of sleep before getting up to work a morning shift.

I came home from work to go work a funnel cake stand at the football game and got home a little before midnight. Saturday was okay, slept late and didn't have to be at work til 5:00.

Sunday rolled around and I was scheduled for another double shift. Lunch was good, two women (twin sisters) that read my silly little blog came in to eat with me and gave me a great way to end a shift. They even got to meet "Dr. Evil" AKA the owner of the restaurant.

I had an hour before I was due back and Dr. Evil told me I could come back a little later than I was scheduled.

Zoomed home and picked up Massey and headed to Wal Mart to pick up a couple of things I needed...BIG MISTAKE.

I bought five items. We checked out through the garden department, usually an easy escape. The guy checking us out immediately said "I remember you from when you worked for Johnny's Pizza on Virginia Ave."

Not to date myself but that was 1982.

He was just chatting us up and going back and forth between my five items like I had rolled up with a cart full of things. I was kinda wondering about it but for once in my life just kept quiet and rolled my eyes at Massey when he wasn't looking.
He said "That'll be $82.50."

I thought that sounded high but he had stopped twice while ringing up items to check his tape to see what he had rung up.

We didn't even get past the guy who takes out his yellow highlighter and marks your receipt before Massey said "He rang up the bed sheet twice."

My nerves were already rattled...trips to Wal Mart tend to do that to me.

I told the man with the highlighter that the cashier had charged me twice for the fitted sheet I had bought.

He looked at my receipt and said "Well there ain't nothin' we can do out here now, he done moved on to another customer."

I was instructed by the highlighter holder to go inside to customer service for my $15.00 refund.

GREAT!

How hard is it to scan an item , put it in the bag and move on to the next item? Thank the Lord they didn't give this cashier free reign with the yellow highlighter pen. I guess you have to take a special class to hold the yellow highlighter.

I had already eaten up most of my break by this point but wasn't leaving without my $15.00.

Into the store we went and headed for customer service.

We waited in line for ten minutes while the woman behind the counter waited on one lady with one item to return. The woman in front of us finally gave up and left without getting a return.

Massey wanted to leave but I refused. It only took me twenty minutes to get my $15.00 back and I reminded myself why I never go to Wal Mart in the daytime. The only good time to go to Wal Mart is after work, preferably after midnight when the idiots have dwindled to a minimum.

Got back to work with two minutes to spare.

The owner commented to me when I got back how great it was that my blog had brought him two new customers and I said "Aren't you glad I got fired from Longhorn?" He came back with "What took you so long?"

Had an excellent dinner shift but I was so tired by the time I got off that it reminded me that I was indeed fifty and feeling every year of it.

It was a long weekend. Got a lot done, left a lot undone but am finally home. Took an extra strength Advil for my aching legs and sat on my duff to blog..."Priorities."

Tomorrow starts another week. The days tend to tumble together, the nights seem shorter but I keep on keeping on.

The football team doesn't have a game this next weekend so things are already looking up for me.

The kids are out of school tomorrow and I don't have to be at work til 5:30. No guard practice, no school pick ups...YIPPEE !

Massey and I are going to the cemetery to do some work around the family plot. Can't let my parents think they are forgotten and it always makes me feel good to make sure it looks nice.

My Labor Day will be a labor of love. Putting fresh flowers out...raking , weed eating and letting my parents know they aren't forgotten.

Another exhausting week...but aren't they all when you have teens?

They say kids keep you young...I tend more to believe "Survive or Succumb."

Til next time...Non Succumbing Cotton"

"Hoke" and "Miz Daisy"

When at my restaurant...there is a couple that come in at least twice a week.

A young African American, guiding his eighty something year old charge. An elderly white woman, who always looks as sharp as a tack...shuffling one foot after another, taking forever to get to her table. She takes an eternity to just get to the women's room and another eternity to get out. The nurse stands by the door patiently, and we have started to joke with him about hanging outside of the restroom door trying to pick up women.

Last week, I stopped to talk with him. I told him how I admired how he treated this woman. He is so respectful and thoughtful with her. He never rolls his eyes or gets agitated with her slow walk or demeanor.

I remarked to him the other day, that when they walk in, I say "Here comes Hoke with Miss Daisy".

He said that he has heard it all.

He said that he has been with this woman for ten years, moved down here from the north with her. Her husband had died, leaving her with a 300 acre Arabian horse farm out on Smoky Road. (An exclusive...still rural area that I would LOVE to live in).

It just strikes a cord in my heart that she is left with nothing now but money and an African American nurse that seems to genuinely and compassionately care for this tottering, feeble and fragile person.

The horses and farmland are gone, she has moved into a condo with her "Hoke".

She acknowledges my comments to her, but it is obvious that she is in her last years.

I wonder if she even knows or grasps what gracious and capable hands she has been lucky enough to fall into?

He never seems to waver in his devotion or care of this woman. He never acts exhausted by his role or short in his temper with her slowness or lack of awareness.

She , in my mind is as lucky as "Miss Daisy" was in the movie. This man genuinely cares about this woman, doesn't care if she realizes his compassion or attentiveness, but just does his job.

He treats this woman like royalty, gives her the respect that I am sure she deserves and is giving her the quality of life that she has earned...right up to the end!

I do not know who I admire more...HIM or HER?

I just know that it makes me smile to see them walk through our doors, see that "Miss DAISY" is still with us, and has this awesome companion to not only take care of her , but to make her waning days as important and meaningful as all the other years that have come her way.

If I am as lucky as our "Miss Daisy"... I will truly be a blessed person.

"GODSPEED" Miss Daisy...and thank you "HOKE".

Almost Half A Century Down The Road Of Life

Even the title of this blog terrifies me. It just can't be right! Am I really 48 years old? Where in the heck did the last almost fifty years go? Am I in a time warp? Did someone change the way we measure time? All these questions seem valid to me, and yet no one can give me the answer that I want and need to hear... "NO, you are MOST certainly not 48 years old.... somebody has been using the wrong calendar, and we are SOOO glad that you caught the mistake!" Granted, I weigh the exact same weight as I did in high school ( Thank the Lord frown lines and wrinkles don't weigh much). I guess the fact that I have been a server for 30 years should tip me off to the fact that I am speeding down life's highway like I was on the Autobahn in a high powered Mercedes. Well, somebody please point me to the nearest exit.... I WANT TO GET OFF!!! I really don't feel my age too often. I think working with twenty year olds six days a week, makes me feel like "one of the gang." They probably all laugh at me behind my back, and have some disgusting nickname for me like "ME-ME", or "MEE-MAW", and only use it when I have my day off! Granted I have some ailments that I constantly self-diagnose on the phone with my MUCH older sister at night; when we drink wine, chat on the phone, and I remind her of all the things she keeps forgetting ! Just kidding about that, she is an amazing 54 years young... looks better than me... she just can't remember squat sometimes.... that is why we always sit together at funerals.. so I can warn her who is walking up to speak to us, or remind her who just died.... Just kidding again... I love her dearly, and she is all the Mama I have left on this Earth. We will be talking at night, and I will mention "Ya know, my right thumb has been numb for about a year...what do you think it means?" To which she will reply, "Thank God you have that left thumb that is still fine...don't worry till they both go bad." I will say " You are EXACTLY right!" I have since diagnosed this as carpel tunnel from some of my more informed customers at work... they all had the same symptoms, so I have decided that is what my thumb problem is.. WHEW.. that was a relief, and I didn't even have to pay a Co-payment! My sister and I have pains in our neck and shoulders sometimes... another ailment we attribute to having kids that drive us crazy, and nothing to worry about! Two problems solved, about forty more to go! When you are a woman and a mother... especially a working mother, you just tend to forget about taking care of yourself, and just worry about getting through the work week, school year with the kids, or Holidays with the crazy relatives. Actually, I don't know how I have made it this far. I didn't go the the gynecologist for over ten years, till my sister threatened to take me herself. I made an appointment with a female Doc that I had heard was good, and marched my little 105 lb. frame right into her office like I had been going to her all my life. I was trying not to act nervous or scared... wondering what in the heck I had probably been self- diagnosing for ten years that had already eaten up half my brain or abdomen. The nurse came in, took vitals and blood work, told me to undress and wait for the doctor. I followed instructions, and awaited the "Doctor of Death" to come in and tell me that I was dying or had six weeks to live. She came in, a cheerful woman ( I figured that was her guise...fake me out). I had on my fancy little paper gown... scooted up to the edge of the table, and prepared myself for the worst. The nurse was beside the doctor, ready to assist. The doctor lifted my cute little paper number... stopped, looked up at me, and said " Mrs. Cotton, you still have your underwear on." I had totally forgotten to take them off, so I cracked my best quip... "well, it's been so long since I have been to a doctor, I thought by now you'd have some fancy dancy exray goggles you might wear, or some sterilized tongs that you could use just to move my panties to the side for a peek!" The nurse beside the doctor had to leave the exam room, laughing so hard that I could hear her in the hall . Fortunately everything was fine... except my total humiliation at having to walk out of that room knowing that every person in that office had probably already heard about my little "faux pas ". Needless to say, I am looking for a new doctor.... Hey! I have ten more years to look for one! Actually, I sucked it up and continued to go to this doctor, and needless to add... they remember me when I walk in the door. Even though the fifty year mark is speeding towards me like a tomahawk missile, I feel pretty blessed to still be as healthy as I am, in total control of all my faculties, and somehow making it to work six days a week, loving and enjoying my kids, and having the greatest husband a nutty person like me could ever hope for. Believe me you.. when fifty REALLY gets here... it is gonna be a party to remember... at least I hope I can. Till next time, COTTON