I had my oldest son, Connor, when most of my friends were still livin it up at 23...18 years have passed and I sometimes feel a little young to have a freshman at Notre Dame...still, I would not change a thing...This is my baby boy...love him like I cannot explain...I could go on and on about what a sweet kid he is. Really, he is...the best kid...I hear you...through a naive mother's eyes, right? Never in trouble with the law...I am not a grandmother (as far as I know)...compassionate beyond belief...smarter than his own good...and this kid spouts ethics like they are about to go out of style and he has a truck full to unload before dawn. Cooler than cool philanthropist...he is the BEST!
He finally packed...and left for college...by the seat of his pants and with a little help...but he did it...Go Irish! ALL that was asked of him before he left...please have your room cleaned up (for the cleaners, mind you) and get rid of anything you don't want me (mom) to find...
Cut to one week after he leaves for college and I go to clean his room. Um, Hello? were you not asked 100 times to make sure there was nothing here you didn't want me to find...???? Oh?! that's right...you tuned that out...hmmm...well, I just spent the entire day (because that is how long it took me to get through it all...9-4) cleaning up the chaos, the trash...candy from at least 2 holidays involving a man with a beard and a dozen or so SoBe bottles (um are these special?)...and let me tell you, I got schooled in what an 18 year old boy likes to look at, talk to, imagine and draw...in the 21st century...I am freaking out...I want to share...I need to share...but...sadly, I cannot...I can't even look myself in the mirror, much less ask him to... dammit boys...clean your rooms!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Re-entry and cow bell
Re-entry really kicked my ass over the past 2 weeks. I thank the sweet heavens for throwing me back in the driver’s seat...where I belong.
Since about 8/1...I had been a mess...feeling sorry for myself...frustrated & bitter...I loved being on the road...all my alter egos living out loud...I spent my days taking pictures, basking in 90+ degree sunshine and exploring...I did not want to come home to the minutia of life...my sick mother and all the drama, I was dreading my oldest leaving for college...uncertain if the project I really had been wanting to work on was going to come to fruition (I don't sit still well...so not working the last 3 months or so has been REALLY hard) ...I had fallen and could not get up and as far as I could tell the damn alert doo-hicky was out of batteries...cuz about 2 weeks flew by...yet there I was laying on the floor...clapping like a bat out of hell...and not a freaking medic was in sight...I am not sure you clap with the doo-hickey, but still, you get it…this was overwhelming me…I needed intervention…
Tuesday night...my 'medic' arrives. I spent the better part of that evening sobbing in my cereal (actually it was yummy pasta with fresh picked tomatoes and a lovely buttery chard, but still) to a friend...and boy, did I let it all out…I think I might have even made some shit up...whether I meant it or not...cried my eyes out...must have been a little weird for her...even though she has known me most of my life, our experience has been 180 degrees different...all good for both...but very, very different...well, she handled by validating which was great, and then followed that up with a figurative excerpt from my life story... Chapter: The 9th Year....this involved my father, a leather strap and my bare backside after I called my mom an 'old heifer' and kicked a big hole in the back screen door (never did THAT again).
Between the swift kick in the rear fender she so gave like she'd been doin it for years!...and Connor (my oldest) ACTUALLY leaving for college, just fine and right on time...my project kicking off with incredible momentum…don’t ya know it…last week there was a proverbial knock at the door and there before my very eyes stood the savvy city girl, the ass kickin Annie Oakley-type and Miss Kelly White..all my lovely alter egos were there, dressed for the occasion, mint juleps in hand, ready to 2 step and rustle up some trouble. I even looked like myself again today…
My lesson on this trip was to remember to completely live in the moment…would have made for a lot less bitch and a lot more cow bell that last week
Since about 8/1...I had been a mess...feeling sorry for myself...frustrated & bitter...I loved being on the road...all my alter egos living out loud...I spent my days taking pictures, basking in 90+ degree sunshine and exploring...I did not want to come home to the minutia of life...my sick mother and all the drama, I was dreading my oldest leaving for college...uncertain if the project I really had been wanting to work on was going to come to fruition (I don't sit still well...so not working the last 3 months or so has been REALLY hard) ...I had fallen and could not get up and as far as I could tell the damn alert doo-hicky was out of batteries...cuz about 2 weeks flew by...yet there I was laying on the floor...clapping like a bat out of hell...and not a freaking medic was in sight...I am not sure you clap with the doo-hickey, but still, you get it…this was overwhelming me…I needed intervention…
Tuesday night...my 'medic' arrives. I spent the better part of that evening sobbing in my cereal (actually it was yummy pasta with fresh picked tomatoes and a lovely buttery chard, but still) to a friend...and boy, did I let it all out…I think I might have even made some shit up...whether I meant it or not...cried my eyes out...must have been a little weird for her...even though she has known me most of my life, our experience has been 180 degrees different...all good for both...but very, very different...well, she handled by validating which was great, and then followed that up with a figurative excerpt from my life story... Chapter: The 9th Year....this involved my father, a leather strap and my bare backside after I called my mom an 'old heifer' and kicked a big hole in the back screen door (never did THAT again).
Between the swift kick in the rear fender she so gave like she'd been doin it for years!...and Connor (my oldest) ACTUALLY leaving for college, just fine and right on time...my project kicking off with incredible momentum…don’t ya know it…last week there was a proverbial knock at the door and there before my very eyes stood the savvy city girl, the ass kickin Annie Oakley-type and Miss Kelly White..all my lovely alter egos were there, dressed for the occasion, mint juleps in hand, ready to 2 step and rustle up some trouble. I even looked like myself again today…
My lesson on this trip was to remember to completely live in the moment…would have made for a lot less bitch and a lot more cow bell that last week
Monday, August 17, 2009
It's a wrap
40 days, 1 unfortunate car incident, no speeding tickets, 13 national parks, 13 states (several more than once), countless crossings of the Continental Divide, officially 8,284 miles...
Funny moments and amazing sights were plentiful our last days of adventuring, but still, I am finding it difficult to write with any notion of a light heart...I, for the most part, was a bitch...complete...ONE HUUn-dred percent (as JBN would say it) our last week of adventuring...and feel kinda bad about that...just a little, though. I lived with boys conversations, boys bodily functions, boys conversations about bodily functions , boys cleanliness (or lack thereof) and boys sense of focus (again, or lack thereof)...for 40 days and nights on the road...in a car...I was a modern day Noah (I am in complete awe of this story, btw! there should be Noah shrines at every roadside attraction to inspire the likes of me) Still every day with a smile I would...short order cook at the campsite...all three meals plus snacks...get the laundry washed...make sure all the water bottles and camelbaks were full...pack hearty snacks for each boy...spray them lovingly with sunscreen...and buy candy at every damn gas station we passed...so, when I wasn't so pleasant to be around those last few days I figured they could just put up with it...but deep in my heart...waay down there...I HAD pulled up my hiking boot traps...and had loved it all...even the funk...like the constellation I came home with on my middle made of irritated red ant bites...the kids in the back seat...
sidebar: what I would have given for some magic powers....stop time, turn to the back seat...and while the little cherubs sit, smiling with their angelic smiles in suspended time and say... "SHUT THE FUCK UP!...and no you cannot have, do, say, play, one more fucking thing...and look happy when I take the 3000th damn picture, will ya, you ungrateful little shits"...whew! felt good...that was my trucker ego talking...
back to loving it all...kids in the back seat...my total loss of control as Tom always drove...a bit like Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange with the toothpicks and violent movies? That was me having to ride in the passenger seat for 4000+ miles. Someone’s really perverse idea of totally desensitized me of being in control...I drive dammit...always...literally and figuratively...regardless...
I loved it...loved it all, really...REALLY! Loved it! I have more than 6000 photos that have been edited down to a 60 minute slide show (only used about 1/3 of the picures) and I watch a little of it almost everyday...
so many keep asking how it went...and genuinely seem surprised that I smile and say "..SO great!" but it was...I would and will do it again! Even riding in the passenger seat...
I am thinking...Route 66...next summer...
so if I had loved it all so much...why on earth did I act like such an evil girl that last week...
Funny moments and amazing sights were plentiful our last days of adventuring, but still, I am finding it difficult to write with any notion of a light heart...I, for the most part, was a bitch...complete...ONE HUUn-dred percent (as JBN would say it) our last week of adventuring...and feel kinda bad about that...just a little, though. I lived with boys conversations, boys bodily functions, boys conversations about bodily functions , boys cleanliness (or lack thereof) and boys sense of focus (again, or lack thereof)...for 40 days and nights on the road...in a car...I was a modern day Noah (I am in complete awe of this story, btw! there should be Noah shrines at every roadside attraction to inspire the likes of me) Still every day with a smile I would...short order cook at the campsite...all three meals plus snacks...get the laundry washed...make sure all the water bottles and camelbaks were full...pack hearty snacks for each boy...spray them lovingly with sunscreen...and buy candy at every damn gas station we passed...so, when I wasn't so pleasant to be around those last few days I figured they could just put up with it...but deep in my heart...waay down there...I HAD pulled up my hiking boot traps...and had loved it all...even the funk...like the constellation I came home with on my middle made of irritated red ant bites...the kids in the back seat...
sidebar: what I would have given for some magic powers....stop time, turn to the back seat...and while the little cherubs sit, smiling with their angelic smiles in suspended time and say... "SHUT THE FUCK UP!...and no you cannot have, do, say, play, one more fucking thing...and look happy when I take the 3000th damn picture, will ya, you ungrateful little shits"...whew! felt good...that was my trucker ego talking...
back to loving it all...kids in the back seat...my total loss of control as Tom always drove...a bit like Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange with the toothpicks and violent movies? That was me having to ride in the passenger seat for 4000+ miles. Someone’s really perverse idea of totally desensitized me of being in control...I drive dammit...always...literally and figuratively...regardless...
I loved it...loved it all, really...REALLY! Loved it! I have more than 6000 photos that have been edited down to a 60 minute slide show (only used about 1/3 of the picures) and I watch a little of it almost everyday...
so many keep asking how it went...and genuinely seem surprised that I smile and say "..SO great!" but it was...I would and will do it again! Even riding in the passenger seat...
I am thinking...Route 66...next summer...
so if I had loved it all so much...why on earth did I act like such an evil girl that last week...
Monday, August 3, 2009
Go into the light, children...all are welcome
My last camp out in Canyonlands National Park...I have slipped into my tent...from my pillow there is a dreamy view of steep rocky canyons in the distance...and the moon is almost full...with my nightly International Coffee indulgence, I am deeply involved with a narrative of Butch Cassidy and his Wild Bunch...early evening dreaming, imagining in a past life that I might have had the good fortune of living the life of Ann Bassett...
sideline: as I see it, this falls right in line with the whole Miss Kelly White thing, admittedly in a wild west...ass kicking..cattle rustling...crack shot sort of way...I have, indeed, developed a bigger than life crush on Robert LeRoy Parker...man! those Utah boys are killin' me! and really with an alias like Butch...what's not to love?
...anyway...I have been enjoying my quiet time for a good hour...nothing interrupting my fantasy except the crickets and the intermittent dancing of winds through the sage brush (...that really only added to the notion that Mr. Cassidy was riding hard to hang his hat for a spell between jobs and enjoy a good home cooked meal or two). I can hear the boys are just headed back into camp from stargazing...voices getting closer and closer and all of a sudden I hear a door slam....BANG! and an incredibly loud 'AAAAHHHHH!, oh gawd! ...gross... I'll never do that again!" and a lot of sputtering. coughing and stammering. (visualize, if you will, we have this little area to ourselves and we are about 2 campsites away from the restrooms...) The boys go nuts wondering what has happened...I hear gut busting laughter...Tom comes roaring into camp...my fantasia is lost to the night...
Lesson:
When one is camping and the need arises to use the facilities at night...and those facilities are only made up of a weatherproof structure and a pit toilet...AND there is no power, it would be prudent to turn your headlamp to the OFF position prior to lifting the lid
sideline: as I see it, this falls right in line with the whole Miss Kelly White thing, admittedly in a wild west...ass kicking..cattle rustling...crack shot sort of way...I have, indeed, developed a bigger than life crush on Robert LeRoy Parker...man! those Utah boys are killin' me! and really with an alias like Butch...what's not to love?
...anyway...I have been enjoying my quiet time for a good hour...nothing interrupting my fantasy except the crickets and the intermittent dancing of winds through the sage brush (...that really only added to the notion that Mr. Cassidy was riding hard to hang his hat for a spell between jobs and enjoy a good home cooked meal or two). I can hear the boys are just headed back into camp from stargazing...voices getting closer and closer and all of a sudden I hear a door slam....BANG! and an incredibly loud 'AAAAHHHHH!, oh gawd! ...gross... I'll never do that again!" and a lot of sputtering. coughing and stammering. (visualize, if you will, we have this little area to ourselves and we are about 2 campsites away from the restrooms...) The boys go nuts wondering what has happened...I hear gut busting laughter...Tom comes roaring into camp...my fantasia is lost to the night...
Lesson:
When one is camping and the need arises to use the facilities at night...and those facilities are only made up of a weatherproof structure and a pit toilet...AND there is no power, it would be prudent to turn your headlamp to the OFF position prior to lifting the lid
Fact:
The only thing flies like more sh*t is a bright light at night leading them to salvation!
The only thing flies like more sh*t is a bright light at night leading them to salvation!
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