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Showing posts with the label remembering the mama

Hobbies

A few weeks ago Saturday Night Live featured a video about two women talking about their hobbies. Oh my gosh,  I recognized myself.

When I was a young single thing living la dolce vita in San Francisco, a guy I met for coffee asked, "What are your hobbies?"

"Hobbies?"

"Interests. What do you like to do?"

Totally stumped, I was. I liked to read and write, but I didn't consider those activities as hobbies. They were simply a part of what I did.  Without trying, in the last three years, I've embraced hobbies. Sewing, drawing, painting, gardening, and crafting are what have showed up at my door, thus far.

That guy at the cafe 40 years ago? I never saw him again.

SO, MOLLY DID

The other day I didn't feel like folding the pieces of fabric I laid out on the bed in L Studio. It wasn't going to bother me if Molly the Cat felt like lying on top of the fabric. I told her so, too, before I sat down to contemplate how much of the various materials I w…

A Time for Creating

This morning I had a wonderful time imagining and experimenting while soaking in autumnal sun bubbles.

My intention was to make wreaths out of apple branches I pruned last week, but I couldn't find the green wire that I set aside for the wind chimes the Husband and I will make out of keys. I lost track of the wire on Friday. Yes, I know I should've put it away where I could find it, but that was where it was, until it wasn't.

Just as well. The apple branches didn't look exciting, so I threw them in the compost bin. When I turned around, I saw a pot perfect for the pineapple sage plant (aka Pinya) we bought yesterday. Look at the photo above to see the painted result.

The Husband said the combination of the colors reminded him of the Southwest. My inspiration for the blue was the blue in Sitting Bull's war shirt as portrayed in the movie Woman Walks Ahead. Have you seen it? It's about Catherine Weldon, the woman who painted Sitting Bull's portrait, Sitting…

Keep Them Guessing

Today, Mama would've been 97 years old, three years shy from the 100 that she often told people she was.

If I happened to be around, they would ask me, "Is that true? Is she really 100."

"Is that what she said?" I'd reply.

"Yes."


Mama was probably in her mid-80s when people started wanting to know about her age. At first, I'd laugh, and say something like "She's pulling your leg." Only if they asked would I say how old Mama truly was. 

When Mama was in her 90s, I would simply reply, "That's what she said."

Whatever I replied, they'd respond, "She's strong for her age." Or, "She looks good for her age."


Of course. She spent nearly every day of her 29 years of retirement working in her yard, making it pretty with succulents, flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees.

What better way for me to celebrate Mama's birthday than to take cuttings of her red geraniums and citronella geraniums a…

Remembering the Mama #1

A guy was yelling angrily in the parking lot at someone we couldn't see. We parked next to the building, a good distance away. Yet, we heard him yelling. So I changed my mind about waiting in the car while the Husband fetched his prescription from the pharmacy.

"Good idea," said the Husband.

"We're starting to be like Mama," I said. "She was scared to sit alone in the parking lot."

"Remember that time I sat in the car with her."

I can't remember where or why we stopped, only that it was towards the end of shopping in another town with the Mama who was too tired to get out of the car one more time. When the Husband offered to sit in the car with her, she gave no protest. Settled. Both looked quite content waiting in the car.

What a guy, I married. Lucky me. Lucky Mama.