How to have Faith while being Clumsy

    I have always been clumsy. I remember spilling my milk at the supper table at least once a

week,when I was young, my dad cursed, with my mom getting a T-Towel(handy because she understood,and foreseen the Spillage). Later in life I would just fall down, nothing tripped me, just BAMM!! There I was... down. Then, my luck, I would get married to a great man that lived on a hill! Oh yeah, people, we are North Little Rock cliff dwellers from Arkansas. And when it rains, and all those fallen leaves get wet, it gets interesting. One time it was raining and my husband and I were getting in our vehicle and as he got in,and started up the car, I slid down, just like the movie McClintock!

with all the mud! He couldn't see me, my legs were under the car!!! Oh no, right?! No lie! With the car running, he couldn't hear me hollering. He says that he remembered 'Where did she go?' It so happened that one of my sons seen me go down but he also slid down. That's when my husband knew something was up (or down).

    Always wanting to be balanced,wishing just to be normal, but without perfect timing,there's no way on earth. I need to look beyond the clumsiness and not as 'graceful' as others, I tend not to dwell on it,brush off, and go on my merry way.This too shall pass.(the spilling etc,)    don't think the affliction was passed to any of my sons, at least I don't think so. So I take one day at a time, and I make sure not to be so upset about it. And also it helps to foresee future falls, always count steps when walking down stairs, pay attention to the 'surface or texture', like wet floors, wet steps. Make sure there is plenty of light where you walk, cause one time I missed a step on my deck and it was dark, here I was with clean pressed uniform(was),big lunch bag,purse,and travel cup with coffee in it. Boom! There I was a'wollerin' on the ground, my dogs in the back yard fenced didn't know what I was since I was in the shadows.
I said, "Shut up,you idiots! It's me.. Moma!",it wasn't their fault they seen a big o blob on the ground all scary looking. Ha, but I didn't

spill my coffee!
But there is one good thing out of being clumsy, when there is ice, and

everybody is sliding around and falling and you're not. It's because you have had plenty of practice.
　

　

Brady bunch yard sale

I love my husband, but when I married him, he had a small issue about clothes.*a reminder to my readers that I didn't 'live' with him first, maybe I should of( just kidding) You know how when a woman and a man fixin' to go out on a date get all fixed up and look nice?..well.... I think men are blessed in this world where mostly all they need to do is comb their hair,and put some nice clothes. Mmmm, nice clothes. My husband and I had been married a week, and we were going out to a fish house to eat. I did my usual thing, make-up, perfume, nice jeans and cute blouse, grabbed my purse and got in the car, Tony was (as usual) waiting for me,he was driving then I happened to glanced over and I couldn't believe my eyes. (he already was backing up)I took it for granted that he HAD been getting DRESSED."You wearing THAT?" It was a stripped shirt, tattered on the collar, faded,and it was pink I think,even though "it" was tucked in.
"What?",as he put the brakes on.
"Because it looks awful."I said
As he slammed it in park, he said in his best defense,"It's CLEAN."
He just looked at me, he could tell I was not happy so Tony commenced to get out of the car and went BACK in the house, yes he seemed a little mad.But what did I know, I didn't know the man I married as much as I thought, so all almost huffy and mad, he  dug around for a better shirt. I didn't push my luck, but I had to know something. We were almost finished with our meal looking across my our desserts, I looked at him and asked, "Honey, where DID you get that shirt,anyway, I mean how long have you had it?"
He grinned, "Since the 70's"
     (as I was trying NOT to choke on my iced tea) I heard him laugh a little, "That shirt was my favorite, but all I have is old stuff, I'm glad I have someone to advice me."
Was that an insult?I still don't know, but I think he had been a bachelor too long. Anyway, from across the table, I got a GRAND idea, cause I loved him and I wanted to help.And some time later I did mention that some of his shirts came from a 'brady bunch yard sale'. I think he just shrugged. So that Christmas was special, I bought him a few shirts, business casual, regular t-shirts, a leather bomber jacket ( he looked so good in it) and a warm coat so he won't mess up the leather one. That year, we went to his sister's house, of course my husband was wearing all NEW clothes, (he's the baby out of 9 children), I got looks,  I didn't know what the looks were for, new to the family and all, plus I remember they (the sisters and sisters-in-law) scared the heck out of me, but of course, not now, I was kinda alarmed, they all had these Big EYES and shall I say BIG MOUTHS (sorry, had to go there.)They were all doing the "what?" silently with their mouths, but from behind my husband's back, one of the sister's mouthed silently "Thank you"then grinned. "Whew!" I thought, I wasn't the only one thinking of Brady Bunch.








                                              

Roadie

I dont

have Road Rage, it's more like driving with Road Aggravation. I drive to and from work for a good 45 minutes. Then I take a back highway, so I see a lot of interesting things along the way. I talk out loud. I'll give you a few samples....

"I hate YOU blu-tooth chick!"(on no hands phone thang in my car)

"Detour?!".     "Sorry."(after running over a squirrel).         "Ahhhhh!!!!"     ( head lights shine on a Zombie looking man on side of the road).             "No! Not  YOU again, I'm late!"(bicycle man that doesn't pull over).                "Thank-You for the blinker!" (there was no blinker).       "Dude!!!".        "Nice truck.". ( nice truck).         "Get off my butt!!".       "Yeah, let me blink my lights,  A cop is back is back there."       . "Come on, you piece of crap.".(talking to my car)   "Come on, Baby, that's it."(talking to my car)

Moma Glue (a story about Sherry Newton)

My Moma

Moma and Dad

I had been visiting my mom, she had colon surgery, yes, it was cancer, we just hope they got it all. I had took a few steps along after I had got out of my car, as my husband greeted me, he was waiting out on the front porch,seems like he always been waiting on me, the thought hit me. My mother was the GLUE to our whole family,what were we all to do? She is the one that keeps this whole family together!I said it out loud too. My husband agreed with me with a somber "Yep." I wanted to fall apart, but I didn't want to go to pieces in front of my husband, plus I was NOT a big baby, but boy, did I FEEL like one. I'm somewhat over 50 :) and here I was having a pity party for myself. I would call my best friend on the phone, but you see, that would be my Moma. I felt lost, and not to mention my Dad..... Lordy. My moma has spoiled him so much , there is no way I could hold a candle to her and how to deal with him. It would of been almost cute, but up at the hospital he seemed so lost and forlorn. But he is 78, I think. My mom is 73.Not sure of their ages right now,pretty exhausted.  My family has had a few very high hurdles,if ya know what I mean,  but with my Dad's hot Texan Temper, no one could escape his 'Loud Fatherly advice' but with my Moma's Oklahoma's sweet natured-Sunday-school -teacher's calming charm and peace maker ways, o' Dad didn't have a chance, and the supposedly almost victim lived another day.
Soft socks.  I kept thinking of silly socks as I was eating in the hospital cafeteria with Dad that I could buy my Moma those really soft socks. I know that's not much, but I don't know what else to do besides be there for her and buy her socks (soft ones).               So, I find myself having to be  
very strong,(pull yourself up from the boot-straps thang). I am hoping and praying that along the way while this very strong and loving woman has instilled some of that "GLUE" within me as I was I was being raised as a child, to infuse into my being as a person to do well on earth, and to have some-what high MORALS like a good person should. I close my eyes and take a

Deep trembling breath, I shouldn't ask for favors from God, I am no one special, why would he grant me anything? I NEED her, Lord. Or US shall I say.Still again I don't know what to do.I need some Moma Glue.Maybe I have it already. I know this sounds stupid, but I'm thinking of Spiderman; "Great powers, comes Great Responsibilities". Later she woke up from an very serious operation she smiled and asked if we had breakfast. The Moma Glue is very powerful. ( I smiled back)

the soft socks

The Hobby Of Sleep

I tell my friends that every time I sleep, it's a clean slate. That's how I can get up @ 4:00 in the morning and it's the best time to write, only if I had plenty of sleep, slept on my red pillow and no one had text me a like at 10:30, cause I had went to sleep @ 7:45 pm, and that including Facebook. I've had 'friends' put a photo of their new puppy at midnight, leaned up from deep slumber, looked at the cute pup, 'liked it', then couldn't go to sleep again. I would put my phone on silence but I'm afraid I won't hear my alarm. And I know the second I wake up, if I have slept enough. It also helps if you're on any medication, being epileptic.

But I remember that I used to party, clubbing with my friends, I don't know how I did it, staying up like I did, it wasn't that long ago.( I don't think  so anyway) And you know how other women think of new dresses, or shoes, new cars, MEN? Well, often I think of ole RED. Life is good.

*foot note*. Happily married with a man that has his OWN soft pillow.

Scaring Cheerleaders and Smokers

Every 16 year old wants to be cool.

Everything is impressionable at that age, negative  or positive. I was no different. I was a watcher, curious of how other teenagers reacted to things. I didn't exactly envy them, just curious. I watched the kids go sneak off and smoke cigarettes, I remember wondering how they got by with it. I would go to the gym's rest room, and they would be in there, looking all cool, I know, cause as I washed my hands (slowly), I watched them. On how, they held their cigarettes, and sometimes if I was

lucky, a girl smoker would do a smoke ring in the air,as the other would (French inhale) Because I was invisible to them, a Nobody, a girl was not cool, I wasn't mad, I excepted it as a non- groovy life.

But the other kind of girls I really watched, it was the CHEERLEADERS. They were the upper crust, lionesses, princess-celebrity-chicks,beautiful Barbi doll gals,





The top cats on the food chain.

Me in the Pep Squad,1975                    

They were always in a Horde, not herd, that would be heifers.They were always graceful, dainty but strong, with all the popular and unpopular football players well, lets face it, it was ALL the boys around them. I didn't envy them either .               I  admired  them, and I  would revere  from afar.         One day my world changed.   The whole class had to write a Scary story. Any kind, no holds bar. So I wrote a story on a crazy Frankenstein cat that killed, can't remember, been a few years.   There were stories that were funny Some threw paper airplanes and gum wrappers, and booed,but some expected it. But when I stood up and read mine, it took awhile but it dawned on me, there was no paper or gum wrappers, I looked up and the tough smoker girls AND the cheerleaders were listening. I read my story, and as the Frankenstein cat round up killing his master.  I took my seat, and a very blond cheerleader turned around and said "that was really good" then some other cheerleaders chimed in as well, (maybe she was the leader, don't know), I remember my heart beating very fast.Then after the class, I was by my locker, and one of the smokers (wearing a cool Bret) and said" that cat story was cool" My whole world and universe tipped on its axis.  I hope that my writing will make a difference in a persons life,  sad or happy(depending on the story).  Hoping someone that reads any of my writing will believe and respond to their own sensibility. Touch some one's heart and soul. If it wasn't for the smokers and cheerleaders, I don't think I'd be writing,thanks girls.                            

Being Different

I wish I could write about one of my loves, my job, but I can't because of privacy issues,since I am a nurse assistant. Seems like a lot of fellow bloggers write on hobbies like photography or sewing,and grandchildren, so they have plenty to blog about. Here I am with my imagination and
some-what coherent ramblings.



All alone, but that's OK. On my island,free-standing,and unaffiliated.And I'm  not apologizing for my writing(never)but kinda giving you, my readers 'heads-up', here
we go on  one of my crazy but happy 'reverie', my

roller coaster

blogging, just saying. I guess i need some cheese with my wine. That's a joke y'all.