Can we ever get tired of seeing the red carpet fashion?

Ummm...clearly - no.

I am completely and totally attracted and fascinated and drawn to the fashions on the red carpet. So tonight it's the Grammys, previously it was the SAG awards and the Golden Globes. Pretty soon, of course it's the super bowl of fashion parades - the Academy Awards.

But honestly, I would watch the Poulan Weedeater 2nd quarter district regional support sales pencil sharpener of the month awards, if there were a red carpet on E.

Have to see the Gaga....

Yay! Body Slam tomorrow...AKA, Airport Security

Yay! I get to go through airport security on the day before the biggest travel day of the year! Jumpy and clappy!

Actually, I'm fine with the body scan. And trust me - after having spent 16 years in the radiology business? I know that the TSAs do not care what I look like under my Spanx.

Just keeeeep moving, lady. That's it. Do the twirl. Get the backscatter. Be scanned. Keep moving. Next?

We all look alike to them on the monitor and nobody has time to think about how I could use a little o'Jillian.

The Mother of all Holidays

So....here we are. My sibs and I, about to experience the first holiday as true adults. As orphaned adults, that is...which is what I feel like tonight, after having spent the better part of two days unpacking my 'Mom and Dad house stuff'' plastic tubs and realizing over and over again, that both of my parents have passed on, crossed over, hit the penthouse, moved into a higher level of being....ok...I need to say it. They have died.

Ummmm....they're in a big sixties lounge in the sky.

See? Can't quite say it yet.

Anyway........

And I have to admit, when I cut away the bubble wrap on some of the stuff, I'm thinking...WTF? Because I packed up three of the tubs in August, when mom had been gone less than a month and I was a huge bundle of raw grieving nerves and had become a mom memory hoarder and every post it note / envelope / cocktail stirrer had meaning.

So I have some things here that - if she were here - my mom would be telling me to "Dump already!"

I so get the TLC hoarders right now.

Holiday stuff to come....

Yummy Weekends

...are exactly like the one that I just spent in a major east coast city enjoying beautiful late fall weather and celebrating a big family occasion.

with juuuust enough family drama to provide juicy stories for other family members (*ahem..my sister) who will oh so satisfyingly exclaim "Oh my GAWWD!" and "are you KIDding me!!" and "shut UP!"

Love me some sistah dramafest.

Hellooooooooooooooooooooo

Hi...all y'all.

I'm not sure that I remember how to post! And I just realized that it has been four months since I posted anything...a very crazy four months.

We closed out mom's house this past weekend, and I no longer have a home anchor in my home town. Sure, I can absolutely stay with any of my siblings but it's not quite the same as being able to hang out at mom and dad's house. I mean, the first thing I did when I walked into the house was open the fridge and stand there staring at it, grumbling that there wasn't anything to eat.

I could do that to my siblings, but they all have kids to fill that void....sighhhhhhh.

I needed the break, and now I need to stalk - I mean stake out my territory all over again. Maybe I mean blogitory. Or terriblog. But then it would just be creepy and scary.

So, ummm, anyway.

I'm back!

I'm WELL

...well, not so good actually. But as Mom was a grammar goddess, she terrorized...ummmmm, I mean she influenced entire generations to use correct grammar, and this was a particular pet peeve....when someone asks how you are, you answer politely - I'm well, thank you.

Not, I'm good. Or I suck. She really hated that.

She diagrammed - no, not diaphragmed, she was not a greinacologist - she taught hundreds of kids how to diagram sentences.

And I have to admit that I still suck at it, Mom!

So that's good.

:)

How are you dooooin?

This is what I'm most often asked, after someone says that they're sorry for my mom's death. And I don't know quite how to answer that. Some days I can barely put one foot in front of the other, and other days I'm ok. I just didn't know that grief could be so palpable, and so physical....

On the other hand, I have some not-so-immediate relatives starting to circle a bit, letting me or my siblings know how much they did for my mom, and how many times they invited her over.....riiiiiiiight. Because then it's oh so casually asked - "so what are you doing with her house and her things?"

Day-ummm. I should be writing about my mom and about our sibling pinkyswear - day 10 and still holding - and instead, I'm writing about relative crap. Relatively speaking.

Seriously folks? Go ask Brother McStonewall, the sibling just above me in age, and the executor of mom's estate. Go ahead - ask him what's going on with mom's estate. What's that? You're afraid of him?

So that's good.

My Mom

Ohh.....my friends.

I have been gone from life, from blogging, from work, for two weeks, because I have been with my mom and my family.

My mom suffered a heart attack and then some more attacks, and then - surrounded by family, she died on June 27. I could use the euphemism, passed away - which I have used lately, but really - it's ok to say that she died. And well, actually, she was with only my brother at the moment of her passing death, because we had to clear the room and leave just my brother with her to let her know that it was ok to go, because when the five of us (my siblings) and our spouses (making the ten of us) and my aunt and uncle (her only surviving sibling out of five - oh, the symmetry :)) making the twelve of us - well, when we were all in the room, she wouldn't go.

Because my mom loved a party. And gossip. And chat. She loved to be in the know and with it and frankly, she always wanted to be cool. In fact, we buried her with the new open-toe sandals she'd purchased just a month ago, the better to show off her hot pink pedicure in the afterlife.

And yes, I do have to pause to sob a bit as this is typed, even as I sound flippant. The best offense against crippling grief is a good humorous defense, right?

As I write this and most of my posts over the next few days / weeks, I hope you come to know my mom. Because she was ahead of her time AND because she was an English teacher who even now, is probably hating that I just started some sentences with 'because' and 'and.' And yet, she would be so proud that I have a blog and I'm writing. :)

She was in pain and had suffered heart damage that was unrecoverable, yet - she didn't want to leave, because we were chatting about our memories and she clearly was trying to hear us. So my brother took the hit for the family team and stayed to hold her hand and let her know that she could leave us for that great classroom in the beyond.

I have to say - I never really knew that grief could leave a physical hole in the center of one's self. I miss my dad......but the fact that I can never again call my mom and ask her about the potato salad recipe or the correct way to write a thank you note for a hideous gift, or the proper response to a daughter when she has an issue with a mean girlfriend at age 30 when really, we all thought that the mean girls club ended after 8th grade....I am wrecked with the physical and mental grief.

But my siblings and I - the legacy she left us - among many other gifts - was the ability to be tough. And we pinky swore to stick together, and today is day 7 of the pinkyswear.

So that's good.

Open Letter to my Bloggy Friends

...because it's all been so very secret and closed, before????.....

So you may have noticed that I've been persona non blogga lately. In fact, not one post for the last 19 days.

This new global job is kicking my butt (LOTS of travel), I'm trying to support my family long distance (Life-changing events for two of my siblings) and mostly, when I have some free time, I am either enjoying the very hot summer or crafting / painting / sewing creating. It's so different from corporate life and I find that I need to tune out of email/blogging and make stuff with my hands, other than typing my silly posts about birds.

(Oh, and the bird? Comes back while I'm out of town. Guess Mr. Lulu is not fierce enough.)

And I feel really guilty about it. Until today. I remembered that this is my blog and if I want to post every day or minute or hour I can, and if I want to take a break for other stuff, that's ok too.

So I think I'll have a little summer break.

I'll still lurk on all y'all's blogs and sometimes, I even have a chance to comment.

And I'll blog at least once a week, even if it is to post more of my work and to promote my etsy store. I still have lots of topics, and I might even be funny....if my mojo comes back.

But if you miss me, just imagine this - I'll be the girl with the very large mint vodka tonic and paint smears on my face, with the paint/fabric/paper stuff scattered around, hanging out on my porch and at our beach place....and I'll drink a little toast to you all!

And don't forget that Dave Mathews is a prophet...

I forgot one of the most popular search terms. Apparently, Dave has another job, writing scripture...

anyway...I think. It might be....could be....possibly...potentially, perhaps.

the bird might be gone. What's that???

the bird might be gone.

What????

I saiiiiiddddd....

The Bird is gooooooooonnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeee!!!!

Yes, indeedy. Which is so much more true that just...indeed. INDEEDY.

We've gone almost 48 hours with no bird poop on the furniture, no beak marks on the window, no disarray of the flowers.

Apparently, bird / window mating season is over, and somewhere, little birdies with fragile, glassy wings and painted wood trim legs are being hatched. Somewhere - away from me.

Because we took the nest out of the fern too - Ha!

Bird 1 Lulu 2!!