NEW POST FROM BONNIE! Woof!

Hey Everybody!!

I usually don't talk on here 'less I got something to say about my  WHEELIE. But it is safe and sound now that the SNOW is melted off it. It was way up under all that stuff,  I tell you!

Don't tell, but for the first few seconds I was AFRAID of the snow. Daddy said I had seen it last year, but I don't 'member. Anyway, I found out snow is FUN! 

And guess what? I have a FRIEND! He is a boy dog, so I guess he is my BOYFRIEND.

Mama and Daddy are afraid he is breaking the RULES, because he gets out on his own every morning and goes WALKIE all alone! He likes to come to our house. He would come INSIDE but my mama says, "No, doggie!"

But I know when he is outside and I run back and forth to the door and cry and cry for my daddy to let us go out!

My BOYFRIEND is a good dog. He plays and plays and doesn't hurt me, so I am careful not to hurt him, 'cause he is kinda little. 

Mama laughed and said big woman, little man, that's the Appalachian way. What does that even MEAN?

I think he is CUTE! What do you think?

I hope he doesn't get in trouble for breaking the RULES. But you know what I think?
I think it is his Mama and Daddy who are breaking the rules. So, my BOYFRIEND should get to COME IN THE HOUSE and live with us.

That's what I think.

Howdy

So, I know I haven't blogged in two weeks, which is unusual for me. 

There's been a lot going on, some of it not fun, so I won't focus on that.

But we had a great Thanksgiving, we have the Christmas decorations up and most of the  Christmas shopping done.

And, for the first time in my long life, I've been in a recording studio.

My next book, "Poetry, Prose and Music: Life of an Appalachian Woman" will have a little CD tucked in the back. Daughter does a solo and she and I did two duets on it. There are seven other songs on there, three of which yours truly wrote lyrics and  melody. 

Now it has to be "mixed", and I have to get busy unmixing the book. It's a real  mess, but at least it's contained between two pages of a notebook and in four folders on the computer. 

The notebook is sort of like scrambled eggs, though, and I have to devote a chunk of time putting it together.

This is a new endeavor for me, so it's taking up a bunch more time than a straight forward novel. 

Husband has set up a table for me to work off of, right next to the computer, so that will help. 

I hope.

Pardon me if I don't blog much for the next few weeks, but I'll keep ya posted. 

I Don't Understand

Many years ago, when I was a workin' woman, I drove a Mercedes Benz circa 1985. We bought her when Daughter was about 9 months old, so the car was already five years old.

But it was a Mercedes. Well, I loved that car. I still do, but I can't drive it because the foot feed is extremely hard to push and the seats are tilted in a way that makes me feel like I'm undergoing torture.

Anyway, I was in town for something, and when I turned the ignition key to off, the car kept running. No matter how many times I tried, the car would not turn off.

So, somewhat alarmed, I pulled into the nearest garage. I told the feller the problem. He got in, got out, and said, "Ma'am, your car is cut off."

Very funny, I thought. "Then explain to me how it is I drove it here, and can still hear it running, even as we speak."

There. Take that.

He launched into a rather long speech about how a diesel doesn't have to have electricity to operate, and as long as it has fuel, it will run. then he said, "Blah, blah, celluloid injection pump blah, blah, blah."

It sounded pretty much the same as every time my car has ever torn up. 

Anyway, he showed me how to push a button or turn a lever or something that would turn the engine off until some sort of part could be ordered re-connecting the engine to the rest of the car.

Doesn't it seem to you (if you are a mechanic, stay out of this) that the car should have stopped working completely, instead of continuing to run if something was broken?

Just askin'.

For the Beauty

Well, good morning, Lord!

You certainly have outdone Yourself today.

I can't stop staring at all the trees, what with their bid to see who is the most magnificent and all.

It's so grand it boggles the mind. The camera doesn't do it justice. Paintings look artificial. For folks who've never seen this, they probably wouldn't believe a photograph or a painting.

I watched raindrops glisten on a dogwood leaf for ten minutes. That peculiar golden pink color that the leaves turn really offset the bright red berries that sit in clusters on its branches. 

And that orange, red, yellow, cinnamon, gold! Wet it a little, then let the sun come out.







Man, You really know what You're doing. Right now the sky is as blue as an Irish baby's eyes. 

And the air! Oh, the smell that is attached to autumn! Think flannel, wool, fleece, thick cotton, quilts, fireplaces, homemade soup and cornbread. It's beyond description.

The sounds are different, too. Muted. Like the orchestra is winding down and is now playing lullabies to get us ready for the sleep of winter. 

Yes, sir. 

You've really outdone Yourself today.

My hat is off to You, Lord. Your creation, even as badly as we've treated it, is beyond my wildest imagination.

I don't thank You enough.

But I'm thanking You now.

Another Year Goes By

Every October I stop and give you all a great big thank you for reading this crazy blog.

The countries that have "hit" my blog have increased to 84. Eighty-four countries  have read my blog! Why? I have to ask. Who in Mongolia wants to read about something I say? Beats me - but thanks anyway.

Nearly  46,000 times has my blog been looked at since I started blogging.  

I appreciate it more than you know.

I'm not alone.

And neither are you!

An Unlikely Event

It's taken me some time to write about this at any length.

A short while back, I attend a memorial ceremony. It was for my ex-husband.

I married him when I was 18 years old. We were married twelve years. The last five were very difficult; I would say we were married by law only. 

But I was raised to believe once married, always married.

He never hit me, though he came close. I was never afraid of him until one night toward the very end.

I learned you can't be married to someone who doesn't want to be married to you.

I know the exact moment God released me from that marriage. It was a revelation. I would have had serious doubts if anyone told me that God had released them from a marriage until it happened to me.

I'm not saying that I believed women who were being abused should stay in a relationship; I never believed that.

But I didn't consider myself in an abusive relationship. Others, after the divorce, told me differently. Many people felt he was abusive.

But you know how it is, you stay out of other's business.

All that was a long time ago. Husband and I have been married nearly 33 years. 

I was surprised at the grief I felt when  I learned that my ex-husband had been killed. Partly, I think, was that he was killed instead of dying from an illness or old age.

The sad parts were many. He died living in a homeless shelter.

He had alienated his family with his hate and his feelings of "you owe me" so badly that his cousin's wife called me and asked me could I tell her something good about him, because no one else could come up with anything.

He could shoot pool really well. Played the drums really well. He could dance. He was a sharp dresser. He was smart. If you were with him, you never had to worry about getting lost. He was like a homing pigeon, always knowing which way to go. 

All superficial things, but it's all I had.

She wondered if I had a photograph they could use at the memorial service. No one in the family had a single photo.

I cropped one of our wedding pictures, getting his head and shoulders. It turned out very nice.

A man, who had been my pastor for a few years, had been taught by me in Sunday School when he was eleven and twelve years old, said he would say a few words at the service if they needed someone, because he had some fond memories. The family appreciated the offer and took him up on it.

So the state of S. C. handed my ex-husband's ashes over to a cousin. They finally found his half-sister who gave them permission. They did the memorial service before their family reunion. That way, the cousin said, at least some family would be at his service. His sister didn't come.

It's all really sad, isn't it?

So I grieved. I felt sad. I also felt relief. I didn't have to worry about him approaching Daughter some day. Or knocking on my door. Or barging in on my Mother.

Because he would have thought nothing of doing those things. He just didn't have a way back home.

And now?

Is he Home?

I just don't know.

And that's the saddest thing of all.

Marriage: The Early Years

Husband and I have always had what you  might call an unusual relationship.

It started out as friendship, and believe it or not, I never thought for a second that there would be romance in the air at a later date.

I think because of that friendship, we were able to be more ourselves than people who start out dating right away.

This might explain the photo of me that was taken shortly after we married:

There's a long story behind this, as you might imagine.

Husband had a costume named CHUG, which stood for something or other about not using drugs.

He would dress in this half frog half dragon costume and go to primary schools when he worked in alcohol and drug addiction. He brought it  home one evening thinking that our three year old nephew would get a kick out of it. 

He did not.

In fact, I believe he may have been scarred for life.

But that's another story!

Anyway, the particular night I "dressed up", was pure impulse. I was already in bed, reading, when Husband went into the bathroom to get ready for bed himself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the costume on the couch arm, waiting for  him to take it back to work the next morning.

I couldn't resist. I grabbed the top of it and hoisted it upon and over my head, scurried back to bed and posed with a magazine.

When Husband turned the corner, talking, and glanced up at me, he jumped straight up in the air and screamed. Yup. Like a girl. Then he laughed so hard he cried. The next thing he did, of course, was run for a camera. 

And keep in mind this was before a camera was on every device one owns. It was a real camera with, like, film and everything.

Which means film developers somewhere saw this and wondered.

Ah, yes. The early years of marriage.

Not much has changed.