Cold Ironies

Pictures from the father-daughter dance last night, I don't remember my Dad and I ever doing that, we both like to dance, but you sure as heck could've never gotten me dressed up.  Makes me squirmy and itchy just thinking about it.  I always had scabby knees as a kid, dirt under my fingernails, and I'd rapidly crap up every outfit with my hurried clumsiness.  What?  Not climb trees in my church clothes?  What about creek wading?  All those dumb rules that frustrated me.

58 1/2 years later I still hate dressing up.  Imagine Grandma's frustration with me.

Temperatures plunging last night to the mid 20s and below,   Very cold for us sissies, everything I'd planted should be OK, except for the rain deluge that may have knocked the onion sets loose from the soil, but I'd sure been praying for rain.  I'll go check when the sun warms up the air.  Probably I'll just need to add some wood chips for further protection.

Irony of ironies once again illustrating our family, as I'd taken Allen to get his Driver's License, and simultaneously another grown son had texted he needed a ride from the jail where he'd been locked up the night before for driving without a license, a license he'd lost due to several underage drinking charges.

"I just have bad luck," he moaned.

No, we don't believe in luck, we believe in blessings or natural consequences, much of it due to good or poor choices.  Yes random stuff does occur, and sometimes bad things happen to good people, but overall personal responsibility and positive actions are what I preach to my darlings.

He felt very depressed, life smothering him with those many natural consequences of lousy choices.  This time of year I'm hearing all sorts of folks complaining about depression, and I truly attribute much of it to cold weather and no greenery.  Think how elated everyone is, how much they perk up during balmy days.  Spring Fever is a very real phenomenon, you never hear people complaining, "I'm just so sad that it's Springtime now."

I'd seen an advertisement for a church yard sale this morning, I'd loaded up the younger kids in the van and we'd headed over there.  I wasn't terribly thrilled because it was more of a craft sale, but the kids found a GameCube with many accessories and two games for a big ole $15.  

At a thrift store yesterday I'd found ten macrame plant hangers for a buck each.  You can spend about $10 each for the large ones online, they're nearly extinct, a dated relic from the 1960s (like me). I don't care that my house decor is behind the times, it's all about the low expense, and what I personally like, as it's my dadgum house.

Of all my children, it was Lily who walked upstairs to my room in the dark and cracked her head against my newest hanging plant, as she was inexplicably looking down.  Knocked that sucker slap off the wall, busted the container that cost a big ole buck at a yard sale years ago.  

"I'm so sorry," Lily kept saying, as if that wasted buck would bust my budget evermore.  "Honey, I don't care, don't sweat it," then we convulsed into giggles at her unusual clumsiness, that's my domain.

At a yard sale yesterday I'd bought a large ponytail palm for $3.  "How much for the half-dead spider plant?" I asked the lady.  "Honey, that's trash," she made a face, "You can just have it."

Are you freaking kidding me?  These are $10 at dern Wal-Mart.  I took it home, repotted, watered, and fed it some fish emulsion, it's already looking fine and dandy, plus I transplanted three of it's babies that'd hung down pathetically uncared for at that house.

Hazel'd lost a tooth, Ray wanted Sarah to take him to Memorial Park this morning for Groundhog Day, CW's gotta get to Kroger, Sabrina up to Brenau University for the weekend, I promised Fabian I'd help him file his taxes, so I'll get to see Mateo and Evelyn, Vanessa's kids, I have tons of catch-up work around here as I've blown several days lately gallivanting in Atlanta and at the DMV most of yesterday.

"You know you can just go to H & R Block and Tele-File," I suggested to Fabian.

"No!" he hollered like Cindy's son, "I don't wanna waste my money like that."

Well played son, now I'll do it for you.

Even Daniel had carried on about the price of baseballs and acrylic cases to protect the signatures.  "My mom wouldn't be proud of me for wasting money like that," he'd solemnly told his peers at work, getting us just-as-good baseballs for less.  Duh.

And Nancy Bender?  Oh my goodness, I'm blown away.  I sat there shocked, flabbergasted, stunned and amazed, touched into tears, gratified and encouraged.  Lily put down her drawings to read it all.  You must've spent months on this.  A scrapbook, and I'm gonna risk sounding dumb here, but I've never even seen anyone's scrapbook, but I had heard other teachers at my school talk about scrapbooking.  I had no idea.  I don't even know how to describe this, it's her comments on my blog, said and unsaid, her thoughts, her insight, complimentary of me beyond measure.  "May I use her quotes?" Lily just asked me.  "This is what us kids should've been saying."

I'm floored into silence, Nancy...that sure doesn't happen often.  Thank you so much.