Things are definately looking up...

©L'uragana

My nemesis: The garage

I have an "odd" relationship with time and an even odder sense of my own human abilities. I am often late because I always think I can squeeze in one more bill, one more errand, one more task before I need to be where I need to be. I fail to realize that I'm simply human and cannot blink and transport myself through time to my destination. I forget that the clogged expressways won't open to me like the Red Sea to Moses just because I will it so.

Time and I do not see eye to eye.

My garage is crafted from wood. Wood that's swelled way too many times from storms. Wood that's been exposed to sun and wind from behind ever-peeling paint. Wood that aches and creaks and moans. It should be razed and a sleek aluminum-sided structure placed in its wake, but the $15,000 or so to do that kinda stops me. Each year for at least four years, I've said I wanted to paint the garage. To protect it, get a little more life from it. And each year, I've watched the gaps growing wider, the paint exposing more faded-to-gray planks. The sides sagging a bit more.

I am not scrappy homeowner material, I swear.

So true to my character, I decide that I'm really gonna do it this time. I enroll Big J to help. We left my house yesterday morning about 11 a.m. and I had to run to the bank first. We bought paint, brushes, scrapers, primer, drop cloths oh, and a sander, too. I still skipped back to the car basking in the future glow of how happy I'd be when it was alllllllll done.

And then reality hit me like a Louisville slugger shucked at a great speed.

"Why are you putting the paint in the kitchen?" I asked Big J in all seriousness, "Why don't you leave it outside?"
"Do you really think we're going to paint today?" he questioned (looking at me with that are-you-totally-insane-or-are-you-just ribbing-me look).

Well, yes I did. I actually thought that we were going to be able to scrape, sand, prime and paint. In one day. Even though the time was 1:30 and it gets dark about 6. Now, it's exactly that kind of thinking that gets me started on behemoth projects that I would never have the balls to begin if I lived in reality on a consistent basis--but that kind of thinking also causes me to feel disappointed when reality hits me in the arse. Hard.

But we dug in and although it was quickly determined that this was going to be way harder than I ever thought possible (including finding out that yes, caulk can be used to hold an entire garage wall together), we scraped and sanded one whole side and secured a good start on the other. I looked back at our handiwork and although an outsider might have seen a teetering wood structure that seemed to have been dipped in acid on one side, I felt triumph.

The rest of the garage shouldn't take me that long. Two-three hours tops. Don't you think?


©L'uragana

The Silver Streak

I have always had an affinity for silver-haired men. Definitive word being "men." Men possess silver hair, salt-and-pepper strands, charcoal locks. Not boys. Men. I crushed on Johnny Carson, Steve Martin and former Illinois governor Jim Edgar as a young woman-- but never felt comfortable pursuing this fantasy since these guys were so much older than me. It seemed...like an Electra complex symptom.

But as a woman in her 40s, I can indulge my love of the silver with wild abandon. Finally. I've heard men malign the greying of their locks while looking away to some far away imaginary glory days. But I say "ahhhhhhh" to the pewter-tressed populace, let it lie. Comb it, mousse it, embrace it. Dig it. Cause I do.

©L'uragana

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCov0TYXBp8

I've decided to change my attitude . . . on just about everything.

©L'uragana

Doesn't look like we're in a recession

As I traversed the streets of middle-class America this overcast Saturday, I am bowled over by the number of massive SUV's taking over the streets -- most with only a single person in tow.

Every retail outlet I attempted to go to, had throngs of people in them. I wanted to grab a Coke at the McDonald's and had to forgo the bloated drive through only to face endless, snaking lines inside.

I ventured to the pet store to buy jumbo-sized dog food and once again, the aisles were brimming with consumers. I pass by two malls on the way home and viewed their maxed out parking lots.

We're in a recession? Job loss is at it's greatest in 29 years? Well, I think someone should tell middle-class America because they don't seem to know. . .


©L'uragana

Today was a challenge.
I hope tomorrow falls easy.
I'm trying so damned hard.
But I'm just spinning.
And my words fail hard.
My sentiments lost.
I can't find my audience.

I'm. Trying. So. Damned. Hard.


©L'uragana

I wanna be bored

"See when you were a kid, a special treat was going to McDonald's; what kids today think is a treat is like. . . going to a theme park."

Said my son in jest, but the joke was how different kids are now, that's what made him laugh. I thought about it. It's true. Damned true. And as much as I like to say how unmaterialistic I am, how I'm raising him with values (and I am)--the reality is that we have accumulated tons of crap. The truth is, we spend a lot of money going places locally, visiting sites, ordering take out instead of cooking at home.

His expectations for fun/excitement is much higher than my child self could ever dream. And I don't like it. The question is: how can I scale it back? How can I revert this?

I mean, we don't watch much TV, we play board games and cards at home, have a weekly family night, we read like old-time librarians, always eat dinner together sans TV or radio, always discuss each other's days--it's not like we're total vacuous consumers.

I want a simpler life; crave a simpler life. Long to be near nature. Seeking the quiet. I want to start implementing do-nothing Sundays in which we literally do nothing. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nothing to do. It's been ages since I could just schlep around on a Sunday and not DO. God, I miss blessed hours of just being bored....and having all that glorious time just to think.

Kids aren't bored anymore. And it's that blessed boredom that allowed ideas and creativity to be birthed. I wanna be bored. Just a little. Once in a while.

©L'uragana

j jay

i looked at him tonight
really looked
the face ending in a point
the creamy skin
a smattering of sienna freckles
twinkling across his nose
the eyes that look like
flames dance inside them
the smile that's like the sun shining through a long winter

who is he?

i see he and me come together
in the best way
like all of it was worth it
to make him
i would have paid any price to get him here
i did

who is he?

the brilliant mind
the caring soul
the kind heart
the funny core
the strong spirit

who is he?

and when I am lucid, smart
i stop
i watch him
i catch my breath

he impresses me
surprises me
teaches me
pushes me
makes me think

who is he?

he is, who he is
not me
not he
just him
extraordinarily ... just him

and I, blessed woman get to say, "i'm jake's mom. . ."

©L'uragana