"Gobble Gobble Gobble!"

Ah the day of giving thanks...a holiday both treasured & dreaded alike.
This year I'm going with treasured!
I slept in this morning, waking up to a very festive low and thick fog. Everything looked like a Tim Burton set, truly magical. I was so enthralled with just being in it I didn't even think of taking pictures; I was having a Zen moment.
As I was enjoying my bunny egg breakfast I thought to call Mom and say "gobble gobble gobble!" when she picked up. Next thing I knew she called me saying just that! Well, great minds do think alike.
Had yummy turkey at Kanes & Walkers, made a round at the thrift store, went to a movie, then came home. On the way home we saw the most gorgeous low opaque cumulus clouds in the east sitting there like rounded snow covered mountains.
I took Roxi for a walk before sunset in the perfectly cold gray air. We both really needed it after my lunch a her being cooped up 4 hours. It was wonderful.
I enjoyed a rare visit with a childhood best friend last night and it made me extra thankful for all my friends and family. It just thrills me to no end to have the same friends as when I was a kid. As I always say you can't make new best friends. (Why do statements like that sound natural when you speak them but arrogant when written?)
My family was divided up today into different "sects" but it doesn't matter. We are close all the time and see each other regularly, so I've never liked to make a big fuss over Thanksgiving. It is always fun to have visitors or go out of town to see family, but other than that I like it to be a day of freedom from schedules and obligations. I do observe the spirit and tradition of the holiday by being introspective about all I am grateful for and I like the idea of everyone being mindful of the same things at the same time.
At the end of the night I'm just writing by the fire with Roxi & Mixie. I wish I could get a shot without the flash but you get the idea. Adorable! Next on my list is reading some great 1960s sci-fi paperback before bed.
I am so thankful for life and everyone I share it with.
I'm thankful for this fire and I need to throw on one more log so I can stretch this day out just a little...bit...longer...

Turning 33 in Mississippi!

I went to Mississippi with Mom, Cassie & Ellie for a short & sweet vacation. The girls were so good in the car, except around Birmingham, but all things considered they were great. We drove down Friday and back home on Tuesday which was also my birthday. I am a third of the way to 99, that's how I put it into perspective. When my Mom was my age she had a 4 year old Brandi and a 1 year old me! I can't imagine.
We loaded up with Ellie, Cassie, me, Mimi and Mimi C (my Mimi, the girl's great grandmother) and drove to Hillcrest; the house where Mimi & Pop lived when I was a kid. Here is the view from the front porch. Many a lizard were captured by fast hands slapping their little green bodies against the siding. We would stalk them, making rounds through all the property (which to my memory was as big and grand as the grounds at Biltmore Estate) finding them running lightening fast in & out of dark green shutters on white siding in the sweltering Mississippi heat. My big sister as always leading the way, both of us toteting Mason jars with holes punched in the lids for our captives. I studied her technique, an eager pupil!
When you see one you have to get close enough to it so you can cup your hand and slap it right on the whole lizard "SLAP!" or you run the dread risk of winding up with a freakish wriggling amputated tail in your hand. No telling how many I caught with the "tell tale" scar around mid tail where he had regenerated a replacement. So neat! They were like mini dinosaurs, and so fast. The males would square off against each other and stick out a "fin" of sorts under their throats, their skin expanding and visible between scales.
One of the coolest things I remember is seeing complete intact skeletons in thick cobwebs under the eaves of the house and outbuildings. They were too high up for me to retrieve, and you could forget enlisting an adult to help get it...
They were a special feature of Mississippi, we did not have any here back then. We do now, perhaps Bran & I populated North Carolina with Green Anoles from Mississippi!


Saturday we went to Hattiesburg to see Granddad Pearson in the retirement community where he has recently moved. Here the girls pose with their 95 year old great Granddad! I never knew either of my great grandfathers but have heard enough about them that I feel as though I did.


On a table in his apartment he has pictures of both his wives; my Grandmother Ellise Pearson and his second wife Mildred Taff-Pearson. The picture on the left is of he & Ellise as newlyweds and in the adjoining frame they strike the same pose 50 years later.
Now that my dear readers is what you call married!

I had a very nice visit with him where he shared memories of a time so long ago I almost picture them in black & white. I love hearing people tell stories, and all my family are wonderful natural story tellers, in their own unique ways; I try to be well versed in all of them.

He told about the model of Napoleon's carriage that he built and entered into a contest for the World's Fair (date?). And later of his search for a job out of college as an architect/engineer, going all the way up to Saint Louis and all over.

He is tough and fast and makes up his own words on the spot like Brandi and loves to talk. I am surprised he did not get off on a tangent about any medications; miraculous! He may have missed his calling as doctor, but the Pearson clan has enough doctors. He used to love to talk about all things medical, spare you no details but this time that was conspicuously absent.

He also talked briefly about The Bible and his extensive study of Revelations, but did not preach. This too was a blessing. He was talking about when the disciples come to the rock tomb to see if the body of Christ is still inside and said Peter or Paul (I can't remember, God help me) "went in there and looked at that old napkin they had him in, probably had stuff all over it"! This is the very same kind of thing my sister does! As an example, she once referenced the crown the Jews made Jesus wear during the Crucifixions this way "they made him wear that old crown of prickers"!

You've gotta love it!

Now back to the Caldwell side of the family. Mom & Mimi cook up home made soup, black eyed peas and Mimi's famous cornbread. I will have to eat steamed chicken breasts & broccoli for two months to off-set the food I ate down there. There is a running joke that when Mimi dies, my aunt Suzie is going to run & claim her good roast pot if she's not grieving too hard! My Aunt Suzie (like most of my family) is a hoot & a half.

As we gathered up to leave Mimi C's and go see Pop & Peggy Cassie asked Mom if Mimi C would be going with us..."no I don't believe she will" my Mom responded while trying not to laugh out loud.

That is a whole other long story...

At Pop's farm, everything is neat as a pin and beautiful, like a park, like the old house. Pop loves little kids and is happy to indulge them. Here he lets Ellie drive his "mule", farm cart thing he uses to drive around his farm. The kids LOVE it! I remember when I was their age he would let me ride on his tractor, just where ever I could fit! Ah, back in the good old days when nobody wore seat belts and kids didn't have to be safe. Pop is fun, larger than life, huge personality, very smart, very accomplished, very aggravating, he's a national treasure.

Everybody sits on the front porch and visits in the perfect November Mississippi weather. That's Peggy in the middle making the face she reserves for when Pop gets out of line, her polite "don't you talk that way around those girls" look.

I don't know how it came to be that I am 33 and the days of spending weeks at a time in Mississippi with family and friends are long passed. I swear it was not long ago I was standing under the plum trees with Brandi, Karla and Vanessa eating ripe fruit off the tree while the "hot-bugs" sang in the yard. The landscape has changed, there are pine trees where there were cows & ponies, Mimi has been in here "new house" for around 20 years now, and I'm sure I wouldn't recognise the Hodge's place either.

But there everything stands, same 'cept different...

So I spent my birthday in the car driving home with Mom & two little girls to entertain on the way. It was so fun. As with everything else, the driving there is just as much a part of the whole experience as being there. The girls reasoned that I should have whatever I wanted whenever we stopped anywhere "Because you're the birthday girl!" And every time I heard it I realized I'd forgotten! I will definitely remember my 33rd, most I forget. It was fun.

And then when I got home, I was spoiled even further when Mom bought me this Art Deco buffet I wanted so bad from the thrift store.

I confess to be a furniture junkie. I collect it the way other women collect shoes. And the Art Deco style is a favorite of mine, having grown up admiring my granparent Pearson's bedroom suit (of which I have been proud heir of for 10 years).

This piece is in decent condition, but will someday need a complete restoration down to every last veneer chip (of which there are relatively few) and trace of old lacquer. I gave it a lick & a promise with some scratch-off and for now it is fit to hold my tools, art supplies, projects, jewelry makings and various accoutrements.

Note the book matched Walnut crotch veneer and inlay workbetween top & bottom drawers! Be still my beating heart. The pulls are brass plate and bakelite, bottom left one is broken but I found the pieces is the case! (For the record, never throw away broken pieces even if you think they're too far gone) I am too excited about it but why shouldn't I be?

I am a 33 year old Southern Woman and I need a big-ass extravagant buffet to display fragrant bouquets of magnolia's and serve peas and cornbread, deviled eggs and tomato aspic from!

...or to just keep tools & weapons in, which ever...

Daily Painting: Kegar Lake, Lovell,Maine

Daily Painting: Kegar Lake, Lovell,Maine

Halloween!

Here is the Halloween crew 2009! Minus Philip, he took this picture. Ah, the begining of the evening, everyone is full of anticipation.
Right before dusk is the best moment of Halloween; everyone is ready and you have the whole evening to look forward to. Who knows what will come next!? The night is young & full of possibilities.
Here I am behind Dapper Dan. Isn't he just the cutest in his little pinstripe vest?

Ellie & Cassie sit in the back of the truck in full costume, ready to descend upon the neighborhood. Ellie is in the afore blogged about witch's dress, and Cassie is fixed up as a corpse bride! They both got the full makeup treatment and were so enchanting.

Another picture of the little blood sucker!Ellie & I carved Pumpkins on the front porch. She strikes a pose in front of her handiwork here before getting into costume. Halloween was in the air!

Then it's costume time! Danny had 3 options; Vampire, Robot or Spider Man ("Pie Pie Man" as he calls him). Vampire it is! It took some serious coaxing from me, Bran and Jim all 3, but finally he agrees to the best choice, Vampire! I love this black & white effect Brandi used on this picture. Reminds me of a Universal Studios Monster classic pic!

Doesn't he look so dapper? Dapper Dan the little Vampire man.

Here are his parents, a Devil and witch. They look "scare-scare" as Danny would say!

We crept through the neighborhood as a Halloween caravan; me at the helm of my Green Truck with grownups and kids in tow and following on foot. Some of the neighbors had their garages open and all decked out for the season. There was a light mist and a full moon, it was muggy. You never know in North Carolina what kind of weather to expect at Halloween time. We got lucky.

Cassie & I make our way through the various goblins... There were a few precious hours of Trick-Or-Treating and we made the most of it.

There's aways that moment where any even hits its peak, even Halloween.

Some people like to go out and hit the town to celebrate the best holiday of the year. I like to stay true to the real spirit of Halloween; running around the neighborhood dressed in something traditional yelling "tick or treat!" at every door as loud as you can! Candy is the reason for the season. Kids running around unsupervised in the dark, what could be better?

Today, November first, the first day after Halloween is always a little hard for me. When I was a little kid my Dad asked me one November first why I was so sad; "Because" I said "now Halloween is the farthest away it will ever be!" A whole year until the next one! Sad. And sure, Christmas comes up next, but let's face it...Christmas can't hold a candle to All Hallow's Eve! No contest.

I just have to rearrange my thinking; we are going into long dark nights of winter, which I have always loved too. This year was the first time I can remember ever being sad to see summer go. I so enjoyed being out in the sun, swimming in the Big Pond at the farm, long hot sweaty walks with my dog. But winter has its own type of enchantment.

I love cold days when you stay out so long your toes go numb and you can go inside and build a fire. I love to see the bare black trees against the electric blue early evening sky. I love remembering how it feels to ride your horse in the freezing elements, nose running and the only part of your body that stays warm are the parts touching the warm cozy horse...

All good things to look forward to. And then spring will be here sooner than I can imagine!

Slow down Life! What's the rush time? Where does it all go?

I wish I could stop time. That's what I love about night time; it's like my very own little suspended dimension where all the rest of the world is sleeping and I alone can enjoy frozen time, for a moment. I can live in that moment, I can just be, without that sense of urgency, that feeling that you have to hurry, that every moment is dragging you further and further along the imaginary time line to...an end.

I will try to enjoy the present moment instead of pining away for yesterday. After all It's always Halloween at my house!

weirdo

Do you ever find yourself being...unusual? Maybe unusual isn't quite the right word. I just step outside some of my thoughts sometimes and wonder if other people find the same weird thing.
Tonight I noticed (not for the 1st time) that while I am doing an ordinary task I get excited in the part of my mind I'm not really focused on about something I've had an idea to do. There's always a point at which I recognise this and yet can't remember the thing, I only remember that I know I was looking forward to it...
I remember feeling this way, it's familiar. It usually winds up with me remembering what I was so looking forward to doing and feeling like a total dork for getting all "excited" about such random stuff.
For example, I will be putting away clean laundry (yes, I have a system! 60% of the time it works all the time). As I'm finishing up Irealise that I can now do that thing I was looking forward to, only I don't remember what it is. "No problem" I think, knowing it will pop into my head later, and it does. I am suddenly a little embarrassed to remember I was all "jazzed up" to sharpen my pocket knife, polish silver or try on my favorite leather gloves that have been lying lonely and nearly forgotten in the back of the sock drawer since last winter? Seriously?
Someone please tell me I'm not the only one.
When I discover someone who "gets it", I feel an immediate bond with that person on a level that transcends normal social barriers. It's not like an "Id follow you into battle to die" kind of thing, but it's friendly, unique and genuine.
I met a woman in a jewelry making class (for real jewelwry making, not like with beads, glue and wire). Her name is Jennifer and in the beginning of the class and the teacher was taking us all around the studio and showing us the tools we'd be using. When he got to the Mandrel, as in small steel tapered rod that you can form rings on, I made a comment that I was planning on renaming it the "Barbara Mandrel". Jennifer laughed out loud with me and said "That's exactly what I was thinking!" After that we'd say "Can you pass the Barbara?"
Any of my friends reading this will know that this is one of my favorite bonding experiences.
One more; this is one of my favorites and was introduced to me by my brother in law Jim.
Somehow we got on this topic one day and he askeddo you ever see something, maybe while laying down and think "what could that be? I don't recognise it at all. I could move my head around to get a slightly different perspective to figure it out, but I won't! I'll just be still and keep staring at it until I know what it is". We were delighted to discover we shared this common (or uncommon) experience.
Having a similar sense of humor about the value of such weird things makes for a strong bond with me. But maybe it's not so weird.
Maybe you do it too?

Shooting a Grizzly

Lord the dream I just had. I was out in pasture #1 with Dad. There was a whole bunch of long business preceding this with some other people, but it is hazy and unimportant.
I was in pasture #1 and it was much bigger than ever and Dad was building a series of fences with small 5'x10' cage like sections with gates where you go open a gate, lock it behind you and then open another gate to go in another pasture, one of 3 or four that connected there. I wondered why this elaborate system, remembering the days where fences were fewer and farther between and could be jumped over on horseback at an old low spot, or one person could dismount and step on rusty barbed wire and lead their horse gingerly over it. But the fences he was building were serious; all perfectly level some had small hog wire, where a dog wouldn't be able to get through, and some were the kind we had for the horses, unbarbed wires strung about a foot apart.
Ellie was there with us. Dad was just finishing up and there were a few things in the "cage" he'd just built on the grass, a heavy and serious Colt .45 revolver under a denim jacket and I had my puny .38 with me as well. The "cage" didn't have a top and there were places you could climb over it, there was 2 1/2" dark orange metal tubing and where it ran horizontal you could climb it. At some point I had a discussion with Dad about how he may as well build steps at all these pasture junctures to climb up and get back on your horse since it seemed elaborate and time consuming and I could just picture the frustration that would come trying to get Whiskey to cooperate and pull up right where I wanted him and hold still long enough for me to work the various mechanisms. It'd be easier to hop off to do all that and a few horizontal rungs inside each pasture entrance would make getting back on easier.
He asked me if I had told Mom the story and I hugged him good bye saying I wanted him to tell her because I would screw it up by myself somehow. I guess we were talking about explaining the new fences.
Ellie was with us. Dad left, headed back to the house and it was just Ellie and me. Ellie was about 100 yards away off in the direction of the old haunted house (a real place) and about another 100 yards off in the opposite direction was the old cedar covered fence line (used to be a real place but has recently been sheered off and turned into more open pasture). A Grizzly bear appeared near Ellie was and I instructed her to come here to me in the new fence cage. She grabbed a huge blue pool float and carried it over her head. I thought maybe it was a good idea, maybe it would make her appear bigger to the bear. When I lived in New Mexico in a canyon there was a resident Mountain Lion who would quietly stalk you as you walked a long and dark mile to the turnaround to your car. We were told to carry stuff on your head to make you look bigger and he may think twice about "getting" you.
She made it back to me in the relative safety of the cage but before she did I saw the Grizzly stand up, all 9 feet of him in front of her only about 12 feet away, and fall over like he'd had a heart attack! It was so weird. But then as so often happens in the dreaming world, he reappeared 100 yards away in the trees at the old fence line. Ellie was asking me questions about him but my mind was singularly focused on only one thing now that she was behind me. This bear was going to rip the cage apart, reach in and knock our heads off our shoulders with one swat if I didn't get him first. I remembered reading about Grizzlies during my time out West; if you have to shoot one in self defense don't even bother with anything smaller than a .45, and even that is likely to simply piss the bear off. I read stories of Grizzlies running miles after being shot in the heart. This thought coursed through my veins as I braced my arms against the corner of the fence and got him in the iron sights. I had a few things going for me; he was at least 100 yards off so it would take him at least a precious few seconds to cover the ground between us, I had a clear view of him, he was only slowly ambling around, I had something to steady myself against and thank God most importantly I had the sheer luck of being in possession of a .45 revolver! Had it been an automatic I would likely have been too scared to remember the unfamiliar series of tasks required to shoot it.
In the waking world, the gun I'm most familiar with is a Smith & Wesson .38 Chief's Special, one of the easiest guns to shoot. The Colt in this dream was pretty much like this one above. The cylinders in these doesn't flop out to the side to load but there is a little thumb sized piece that swings open to drop the shells in and turn the cylinder each time to drop in another until it is full. This was was already fully loaded; I had 6 shots. I thought I could get all 6 in him before he reached me. I knew I had to shoot him because he was looking at us like we were lunch.

The most vivid part of my dream was the way he looked at me, right into my eyes. It was like he was reading my mind; no, he was reading my mind. I could feel him reading my thoughts, I knew he was aware that I was just waiting for the perfect moment to pull the trigger and it was terrifying. Finally I inhaled and slowly squeezed the trigger and I exhaled. "Tink", a squib! Son of a bitch, what are the odds? I fired again, same thing! I took out both squib loads and inspected them in the bright day light, there were tiny indentations in the primers where the firing pin had struck. Every once in a while this happens at the range, but it's rare. Dad has explained when we're shooting the "Hog Leg", a gorgeous Colt Officer's Model 10 that I dearly love, that sometimes, especially with hand loads because it's old the spring is weak and the firing pin doesn't always strike the primer hard enough.
I looked dumbly at my cell phone which never works out there and in any case even if it did it would take too long for anyone to get to us. But I tried to call Dad anyway except I was so full of adrenaline I could neither remember the number nor push the tiny keys right. I have also read about trying to shoot in self defense and the terrible chain of events that takes place in your body when you go into fight or flight mode; adrenaline courses through your veins rendering you clumsy, and all the blood rushes to your head adding to the new sausage like quality of your fingers but also possibly protecting your hearing. That's why people sometimes report not hearing the gun go off in their own hands, or not knowing how many shots they fired; there is just too much going on and time changes just like when you're in a car accident or when you fall off your galloping horse.
Anyhow it was a terrible let down to say the least, especially since I had such a clear shot and I really should have been able to hit him right in eye or base of the skull. There was no guarantee that he would drop, not by a long shot, but I could hit him and at least disable him. I've never had any desire to kill a bear, I've never really had a desire to kill anything but I do love to shoot and I like to think I have a better chance at defending myself because of this.
Finally after a long stressful night of body aches and bad dreams I woke up in the dark and decided to write it down before I forgot too much of it. I'm sure I left some parts out, but you get the jist of it.
And it just now occurs to me that today is Ellie's real birthday. What does it mean that in the wee hours of her 11th birthday I dreamed we faced a Grizzly Bear together?...

Coffins!

I finally got to go to my friend Jason's Halloween party that usually falls on the same day as out party, It was so fun! I don't really do a costume for Halloween, I just wear lots of eye makeup and throw on my trusty Devil horns and viola, The Halloweenstress! I am trying to get comfortable taking pictures of myself, as it seems normal people do and here is another push to overcome camera shyness. And I survived!

Jason now owns a coffin! What more can I say? Through a friend of a friend he lucked into getting this very stylish retro coffin for free, I am immensely impressed, and supremely jealous. I was on this funeral home owner friend of his like white on rice to get the second old one they are thinking of getting rid of. We will see which way my luck goes on this matter; but I must say coffins have been in the air lately and I would be surprised if this opportunity is just a "coincidence."
Don't misunderstand me, I am not a weird "Emo kid" or anything like that; I just have an acute interest in all things funerary across all cultures. It's the same thing as people who are all about babies and just love all of them and think they are the cat's pajamas, but the opposite side of the same spectrum!
This interest goes back just about as long as I can remember, to my great Grandmother "B-
Mama's" funeral. I had to have been about three years old, my Mom took us to her funeral in these beautiful little dresses and Brand and I walked up to the casket, kneeled down and bowed our heads to pray. I remember that part vaguely, but I can picture it, and I guess we thought we should say a prayer, and that was how it was done. I remember standing by the open casket holding my mother's hands and her telling me very gently that she was old and had died and was now not in there, that was just her body. I wanted to touch those big veins on the tops of her hands, but Mom told me her skin was very thin and I couldn't touch it because it could break open. Well that got my attention! I just didn't understand, but I was completely 100% taking her word on it. Of course now it sounds weird, Mom doesn't remember it and I don't even think it sounds like something she'd say. But that's exactly how I remember it. I swear!
I also loved stopping at any and every old graveyard I could get my parents to stop for to walk around and look. It was just so much fun, and they did, often. Graveyards are just a magical place to me, well I should be more specific; beautiful old ones, primitive and ornate ones alike thrilled me.
I don't think I have a weird "macabre" fascination with funerary things, I think it is very different and much more than that. I love reading about plagues in the dark ages, and all the lore about the Victorian era phenomena of the widespread fear of being buried alive...because it was common! You know that's where the phrase "saved by the bell" comes from; you could be buried with a string tied to your toe going up through casket & ground attached to a bell, so if you "awaken" in a coffin you could ring the bell to alert people you were "not dead yet!"
Or how about ancient civilizations like the Egyptians and their pagan worship and belief of the afterlife where you needed tombs filled with physical things or representations of things you would need in the afterlife. Legions of handmade warrior statues under a foot tall, great works of art and the finest example of fine craft of their day all laid out in elaborate Pyramids...Inspiring to imagine all of these different ways mankind has made sense of the inescapable and incomprehensible ultimate reality and final experience of every life, death.
I just find it all endlessly fascinating and beautiful. It truly is the great equalizer; everyone born into this world will leave it, only question is when.

Here is Mr. Jason in his "steam punk" costume all made by him, the talented and fabulous artist. Apparently this is a sect of coolness the kids are doing these days, and it looks awesome! I wish I could have gotten a closeup of the detail on his hat. He took a gyppy party store costume hat and dyed it a deep Burgundy/purple, made a hat band out of a thrift store belt, and made an unbelievable embellishment out of a configuration of brass gears from the guts of an old clock, and some small brass tubing. Sheer genius! I'll have to get together with him and get some good pictures, as soon as I replace my camera!

Alas, a good time was had by all, and Jason had every nook and cranny of his gorgeous house full of all sorts of Halloweenery. To the nines!

And here we are way past my bedtime. I have to get lots of sleep which I've been needing so much of lately, naps in the afternoon, sleeping late and everything. But if this is what my body demands, it is what I will give it. I take much better care of it these days; despite my interest in death, I can wait as long as possible to learn first hand what it is all about.

Sweet dreams...