Today was one of those days Tommy and I wanted to get out of the house. It was cold but sunny; we needed fresh air and new surroundings. We didn't have an agenda to meet or a doctor's appointment to attend at the VA. The cabinets and fridge were full of food so we could skip Walmart. We wanted to simply ride around and let the day happen; that is exactly what we did. We left the house a little before noon with no destination in mind. We agreed to eat lunch somewhere before we came home; cooking was not in our plans for the day.
Both of us like to travel the back roads. Missouri is full of off the beaten path gravel roads, lakes and ponds. It is nothing unusual for us to make a right or a left turn onto some gravel road we have never driven and keep driving to see where it leads. We did that today. I still do not know where we were exactly...BFE sounds about right. A white country church, with a large cemetery begging to be photographed, appeared on the left side of the road. In hindsight, I wish I had taken a photo of it. We drove on around several bends, up and down hills and talked about how we were sure 'the people who lived out here did not have children because there was no way a school bus could drive these roads in the winter.' We looked at each other and started laughing because we remembered where we live. We raised three daughters on a road that, until recently, seldom had traffic except for the mailman.
We passed several beautiful homes and one place that could belong to an antisocial drug dealer or an unpublished author. "No Trespassing" signs decorated the homemade six foot tall wooden fence. The opening where a gate should have been, was replaced by wire nailed to the fence. On the other side of the fence a long heavy chain was attached to a pit bull; no mailbox was in sight. The tall fence and irate dog blocked most of the view of the home. From a distance it resembled a run down log cabin with cerulean blue curtains. The color of the curtains did not fit the surroundings. There was a "Schindler's List" affect to the property setting, as woodsmoke wafted through the air, the blue curtains and the angry dog were the only signs of life. Slowly we drove down the hill and lost sight of the dubious home.
"Hotel California" was the background music on the radio; after we recognized the song we laughed and sped up. The music fit the surroundings. Fifteen minutes later we were back on the black top and driving toward Fulton. My mind kept going back to the misplaced home and its unseen dwellers. There is a story there waiting to be told. I may never know it, but someone, somewhere knows the facts. I hope they write the story.
Tommy wanted to know if I wanted to stop in Fulton for anything. I thought for a minute and said, "How about checking out Cato's and Maurice's for knee boots?" He was game, so we drove into town. Once in the stores, we saw the first glimpse of the Spring and Summer clothes. To quote Tommy, "This looks like things you wore in the 70's" and it did. The winter clothes are all on discount, allowing a customer to buy two for the price of one.
All winter I have wanted a new pair of knee boots but refused to pay eighty dollars for them. However, the boots were marked down to half price and then an additional 20% off. I tried on a pair and they were what I wanted, fitting perfectly. Tommy told me to go on and get them. He didn't have to say this twice. We were at the counter and I pulled out my debit card to pay. Tommy looked at me and told me to put my card away, "I'm paying" he said and gave me that great Carter smile. I told him that was 'ok' to save his money and I'd use the debit. He said and I quote "No, I want to buy them for you"... that my friends was an 'Ahh Haa moment' for me and confirmed why we have been together for 44 years; it pays to be nice to each other.
The next stop was to buy gas and two lottery tickets. I won $50.00 and Tommy won $10.00. We put the Blazer in drive and headed home fast before something bad happened; things were going too good. It was a great day in our corner of the world. We enjoyed it to the max. Once again life confirmed, that it does not take much to make either of us happy.
Our middle daughter Tami, has written two books and multiple short stories. She is currently working on the sequel to her new novel, "Collapse". I have had the pleasure of watching this book evolve. It has been an incredible journey, making me remember when Tami was pregnant with my grandchildren. The subtle changes, a growing desire for the creator and the created to let go of each other and see what happens; so it was with the book. The process of watching characters being created, each one searching to find their place in the story was interesting. New characters were created as adults, standing alone and also together as the book and author often butted heads on who would live and who would die. The story wanting to be told had its own agenda and voice; allowing the story to talk is a beautiful, chancy drama to watch. I am glad I could tag along.
Years ago at staff meetings I often heard this statement, "If you want to get something done, assign the task to the busiest person you have on your team and that person will figure out the right way to do what needs to be done." I believe that statement. I know it is true in Tami's life. She is a full time corporate employee, a single mother of two children, and a devoted member of her church and to her creator. My grandchildren, Jacy and Logan, are involved in every activity known to mankind and the Centralia school system. She has an active social life with friends that are as busy and as amazing as Tami is herself. In the midst of all this, she writes books!
When does she have time to write? Not an easy answer by any means. Usually it is after the day is finally done and the children are in bed. She writes sometimes at ball practice or at swim practice or at lunch occasionally. Any time her muse is ready to talk and she can get quiet enough to hear what she has to say...she writes.
When Tami first told me about "Collapse" I knew in my heart it would be an awesome book series. She would send me parts of it as she started pulling the book together. And then she stopped! I am like "send me more to read"! She would reply, "Mama you have to wait." I do believe 'wait' is my least favorite four letter word in the human vocabulary. When I finally read the rough draft I was awed by the story line. It was worth the 'wait.' Tami took the book in a new direction I did not see coming. I was delighted and once again caught up in the story.
After the writing was finished, the editing was completed; came the promotion of the book. Through this process the book began to take on a life of its own. There were book signings, people to meet, book stores to check out and orders to be placed. "Collapse" closely resembled a new born baby; excited about living and wanting everything 'now'. It was and is a fast paced, work filled and exhausting life for both Tami and "Collapse" neither could have it any other way.
"Collapse" is a book that could easily happen in our lifetime. A large portion of our population live on a month to month existence. If they miss three car payments there is a good chance their car will be repossessed. The same circumstance applies to any other thing brought on credit; there is always the possibility of loss after 90 days of inability to pay. What would happen if the infrastructure we depend on collapsed?
Most grocery stores keep a three day supply of fresh food. What happens on the fourth day when the food hasn't been replaced? What happens when the public can't get a fill up at the gas station, because the government has taken charge of rationing the gas? Eventually a mob mentality will try to rule. The couple who sit beside you in church may be the same people standing in your way for the last gallon of gas or milk.
This is one of the things I enjoy about the book "Collapse', there is a thread of possibility that runs through out the book.
I am speaking for myself when I say this; I will never look at an eighteen wheeler without thinking of the book "Collapse" again.
If you have not read it I encourage you to do so soon...you will not be sorry.
I received a cute post this morning from Bubba Short saying "Only a True Southerner Can Show or Point Out the True Direction of 'Over Yonder'!" That is one of the truest statements I have ever heard.
Tommy and I were born and raised in the same little country town in Western Kentucky named Clinton. The location is about eleven miles as the crow flies from the Mississippi River. If a stranger stopped anyone to ask how to get to Missouri from Clinton, more than likely the directions would be " Nice to meet y'all. Let me think... just stay on Hwy.51 and go on out of town. Keep on goin' soon you all will pass Nicky's BBQ on the left hand side of the road. If you are hungry stop there. They have the best BBQ around. If not, just go on down the road until you reach Arlington. The restaurant on the right has the best catfish dinners for miles around. Plus 'Miz Jones' makes homemade pies to die for. You really need to stop there. If not, you will soon pass through Bardwell...keep going and when y'all come to Wickliffe... hang a left after the first stop light, and keep on goin'. Soon you all will reach a huge bridge that crosses the Mississippi River. After crossin' the bridge there's a stop sign... hang a left again and cross the second big bridge. Keep on goin' and Missouri's across that bridge...right over yonder." At least, that is pretty much how we would tell y'all how to get to Missouri.
Growing up Tommy and I were raised on the same euphemisms, all the exact country expressions and the same country slang. It was the normal way of talking then. Everyone I knew spoke the same language. We all knew where 'yonder' was and how to get there.
Then we moved to Missouri. Our first year here we were the delight of a lot of people. When purchasing a set of 'tires'...the whole service station came out to wait on us. Everyone wanted to hear us order tires. It was the same thing everywhere we went. Eating out took twice as long because everyone wanted us to repeat things twice...even Sonic.
As a rule people liked to listen to us talk. Well, most people did. I worked for a short time at a shoe factory where my accent and vocabulary did cause a few problems. I was in my early thirties and I was working with twenty something year old pot heads. We spoke two different kinds of English. We all got along great until we had to give each other directions. I seldom knew what they were talking about, however I did get an education on how to grow pot, information I have yet to need. It will probably come in handy in a short story to be written later. However...
One day I had a rack of shoes that needed to go to the other side of the factory. One of the guys I worked with volunteered to move the shoes for me. He wanted to know where exactly the shoes needed to go so I told him "over yonder". He stopped and looked at me and said, "Vicky, where in the hell is "yonder'? I looked at him kind of strange and said, "You don't know where 'yonder' is??? He started laughing and said, "I am pretty sure you are the only person in here who knows where 'yonder' is!" I took my own rack of shoes! If that kid didn't know where 'yonder' was, I sure wasn't gonna trust him with my days work...no tellin' where those shoes would end up:)
Years passed and although we still have our southern accents the speed we talk has picked up some. It is not as drawn out as it was when we lived in Georgia. My grandchildren give me a hard time concerning the way I drop my 'g's'. A good portion of the way I talk, unless I am on notice or best behavior, are words that usually end in 'ing'...end with 'n' period. I never notice unless someone mentions this to me.
I was spending the weekend with the kids a couple of years ago when I noticed Logan kept trying to get me to say the days of the week. Finally I asked him what was wrong with him? He started laughing and said, "It's not me...it's you". I wanted to know what on earth he meant by that. Right about then is when Jacy chimed in and told Logan, "Now Logan you know Nonnie is country and that is just the way she talks!" I am like "What are you two talking about?" About this time they both informed me that I do not pronounce the days of the week correctly. I did not know that!! Evidently, I end all my days with the letters 'Dee" instead of "Day". I say "Mondee, Tuesdee, Wednesdee" And truthfully they are right...so does Tommy. We had a big laugh and then I really laid it on thick. I told them some tall tales in my very best southern slang and stretched out accent. They could hardly understand what I was saying, however each one thought the story was hilarious.
Ten to one, if I asked Jacy and Logan where 'yonder' is...neither one of them would know. We are gonna have to work on that soon.
When Carol Shea died in early December, I lost a best friend and a sister; neither can be replaced. Although Carol is no longer alive in the physical body, she is very much with me almost daily. It sounds a little on the 'crazy' side but it is true. The same thing happened when Mama died; her presence was so strong in my home... at times it still is.
The day I wrote about Carol's death, I was crying and hoping if Carol could read her story, she would approve. She had died the day before and I was very heart broken, sorry and just a little mad that she did not tell me how sick she really was this past year. I was sitting at the computer rereading what I had written. Tommy was at Ben's. I was alone when I felt a hand touch my left shoulder. I jumped because I knew I was alone and I also knew what I felt. A feeling of assurance came over me. I knew it was Carol and I knew the blog pleased her. Although there is no rational explanation for what happened...happen it did.
Carol has visited my house, finding all the things she wanted me to have and use. For two years Carol was worried about my well water. She wanted me to use a Pur water pitcher for our drinking water. One day when we were shopping, she found the water pitcher she thought I needed and put it in my cart. I took it home and some how it fell behind the kitchen table and I never did use it. The third day after her death, I was cleaning off the table and found the Pur pitcher still in the box. She said in an almost audible voice, "Now will you get it out of the box and use it?" Yes mam! I did and I am still using it. Carol is pleased. I could almost hear her say, "About damn time".
I also found mysteriously two pot holders with cookie mix in them Carol bought for my birthday last year. They match my kitchen and I will make the cookies soon...another nod from Carol.
About three weeks ago, a photo of Carol, Punky and me turned up on my scrapbook table. I haven't scrap booked in four years. I should have put it somewhere safe...and I probably did but this morning I can't find it. If I do not find it today, I will probably wake up in the morning with it stuck to my forehead! I can see Carol doing this and laughing.
The other night Tommy and I watched a movie Carol tried to make us watch for two years. It was a remake of the "Walking Dead" or some crazy show like that. She loved horror stories...me not so much. I hated it and hopefully Carol will not want to watch it again, once was enough for me. If she does want to watch it, I hope she goes to Punky's house.
Needless to say, I miss my friend. Since I was a little girl, I have always had one special friend I was closer to than my other friends; as an adult, Carol was that friend. We shared a warped sense of humor. We used to say we would always be the best of friends because we knew too much about each other to ever stop being friends. We knew where all the bodies were buried and the stories that went with them. I hope some day I am blessed with another 'best friend'. Carol Shea was one in a million, she will never be replaced. However, I have a big heart and room for another one of a kind friend.
This isn't the missing photo but I like this one of us. It was made about five or six years ago before Carol and Punky got sick. We were celebrating Christmas at my house.
Yesterday was the first anniversary of Tommy's near death experience. Once again it was a long, just this side of horrible, day for me. Tommy on the other hand had a great day! He also slept through the fight for his life a year ago! His only memories of those days are what Lisa, the doctors and I have told him.
This year on the 3rd, the Weather Channel began posting weather warnings for our corner of the world. Snow was predicted to begin around 6 a.m. on Tuesday. The meteorologists were expecting a heavy, steady dry snow accumulating fast, making the roads treacherous. All schools were cancelled in advance. The state department told people to prepare for the storm and to stay off the roads. The expected snow amounts varied from 5 to 9 inches...we received 11 inches.
Sunday afternoon we receive an automated phone reminder from the V.A. stating Tommy has a blood draw on Tuesday...no doctor appointment just a blood draw. I asked him to call the V.A. Monday and postpone it until the end of the week or next week. He refused. He left it hanging saying, "I will see what the weather is like Tuesday morning." In Tommy Carter lingo that means, "I am going unless I can't get out of the driveway." I slept very little Monday night. I was worried about the whole situation. I had a bad feeling and I could not shake it. When we got up at 5:30 a.m. there was no snow. Tommy looked at me and said, "I am going." I reminded him the snow wasn't supposed to start until after 6 a.m. He told me I could stay home and he would be back by 8 a.m. I was drinking coffee and thought "I should stay home" all the time I was putting on my shoes. I would be better with him and know what is going on than at home imagining the very worst; besides, it wasn't snowing by now, and it was 6 a.m.
Reluctantly, I get in the car and off we drive to Columbia which is about 40 miles from where we live. The time is 6:06. Tommy turns on the radio and I try to loosen up. We have our thermo mugs with us; so far everything is fine. At 6:16 a.m. it starts snowing...a little; by 6:30 it is snowing a lot! Tommy turns off the bright lights so I can't see how hard the snow if falling. I ask him to turn around again...just in case the weather man is right. He became deaf and drove on. We really need to get his hearing tested...this happens often.
The closer to Columbia we drove, the worse the snow. We finally reach the V.A. and in we go. Not many people were there yet. Tommy was the second man waiting for blood draw. Since Tommy never meets a stranger, he sat down and started talking to the vet about the weather and how worried I had been on our drive to Columbia. The man looked at him and then looked at a lady sitting across the room. He said, "She's mad too". I guess she was, she wouldn't even sit close to him. I laughed. I knew exactly how she felt. The vet was not talkative nor was he in a good mood. Apparently, it was a very long drive for him. He said, "I should have left her at home!". Tommy said, "Mine wouldn't stay...I tried". I am laughing because I know there are wives all over the V.A. this morning, mad as heck and not sitting with their husbands. I wasn't sitting by mine either.
When you love someone, there is no way the two of you will ever agree on everything. I have discovered, the hard way, telling Tommy no or he shouldn't do something is a waste of time. He has to prove that he can do whatever it is that he should not do. Sometimes he can, other times he can't...but he will try regardless.
We made it home without any trouble. Last year on February 4th Tommy survived the horrible ordeal when something went wrong after the heart ablation. The doctors thought he would die, I was afraid he would die but Lisa, and you my friends and family touched God's ear and Tommy made it through. He lived and to this day the doctors do not know why...but I do and thank you all from the bottom of my heart. It has been a year of love, laughter and loss, however Tommy is still here and for that I am very thankful.
I've never had a beautiful style of handwriting. Family members have tried to attribute this fact to being left handed. I really don't think this has anything to do with it. I am always in a hurry when I write. The words come faster than my hand can move, resulting in a slanted mess of blurred words. Normally when I write, the words all dip to the right...some dipping so much they almost lay down on the paper. I have to decipher most of what is written so other people can understand what I am talking about; occasionally, after a few hours, I can't read it either.
This was the case one day last week. I wrote down our grocery list, giving Tommy his copy and one for items I would shop for elsewhere in the store. We had a meeting place in the store where we would eventually hook up...the toilet paper isle. It seems fitting in hindsight.
Off we go on our separate missions. I get mine done rather fast and I go searching for Tommy. I find him standing in the middle of an isle looking a little perplexed. I asked him what was wrong. This is when he informs me he cannot read my writing. After 44 years, I find this fact debatable. Tommy swore up and down he could not read it and from now on I would have to type out the grocery list.
I snatch it out of his hand and began reading the list aloud. I got most of it right, mainly through the power of deduction. Then I came to a word that even I could not recognize. I tried to remember what we needed that started with a 'C'. Crackers, coffee, cookies, chicken, corn meal all came to mind. Those words did not fit the image I had written. When I asked him about the items; he assured me we were fine in all areas. I looked again and still did not know so I thought I would make a joke while trying to lighten the mood.
I told Tommy I wasn't sure but I think I had narrowed it down to two things...crackers or a new couch! Tommy was not amused. He snatched the list out of my hand and proceeded to buy two boxes of crackers. I stood there laughing because I knew we had two boxes of crackers at home. Several days later, we still don't know what I wrote or what we needed. Evidently, we didn't need the missing item very much if at all.
I still think a new couch would have been nice...not necessary but nice.
I began our grocery list for next week's possible snow storm. There are a few emergency items we might need. He is soooo going to love reading this one:) Once again, I will be on the opposite side of the store when he shops. I can't wait to see what he comes up with for the word de-icer...I am leaving out the hyphen:)
