Trial by Jury

I have jury duty today. Ugh. It's not that I mind so much doing my civic duty, but the process is slow and painful and just not a heck of a lot of fun. I remember last time I went, a friend had given me a corkscrew that I just threw in my purse. Well, guess what? It was confiscated. Lesson learned...will check purse before departing this morning.
But, the thing I'm most pissed off about is that I have learned in other states, you just have to call that morning to see if you need to show up instead of sitting there the whole freakin' day only to be sent home at 3:00. Now why in the hell can't we do this? If I remember correctly, they give you some sort of little "survey" to answer about jury duty and you can be sure the previous question will be on that survey.
I have two brand spankin' new books to take and I think I have plenty of gum, so I think I'm set. Hopefully, I won't have to decide where to eat lunch. Maybe I'll be done by then...ya think? Nah...
I can't possibly be that lucky. But, I've only allotted one day this week for JD and tomorrow, I have to deliver Meals on Wheels, so they better not eff it up.

Edit: Well they did eff it up. Dammit!! I must return tomorrow. Never made it out of the freakin' jury room. But, as the bailiff reminded us, tomorrow we start making the big bucks. Had to change my Meals of Wheels schedule. Had to go on into work. Well, I didn't have to, but I wasn't about to go home and sit on my ass all afternoon; I have enough trouble catching up from being gone. And, if I had come home, I would have just ended up cleaning or something equally as boring and mundane. I was up at 4 this morning and it looks like it's gonna be an early night---but not until I watch what looks like is going to be the BEST EVER Housewives of NJ Reunion. Can't wait. I so hope Teresa lets Danielle have it. I know. I need to get a life.

Hummers

I love me some little hummers. Hummingbirds that is. I just love the way their little wings move faster than the speed of light, their little tiny feet, the way they are so suspicious of any little movement. I don't understand why they would rather have nectar (sugar water) that is two weeks old rather than fresh sugar water. Tonight, I had a ruby-throated hummer at the feeder for several minutes. I have decided maybe that nectar is fermented by now, due to my sheer laziness, and maybe they are having a big old drunkfest wherever it is that hummers hang out.
I've tried to distinguish them and name them, but danged if they don't all look pretty much alike when you're half blind and don't move at the speed of light.
Pretty soon they'll be gone for the year. I always miss them when they leave. I can't bear to take the feeders down until the first freeze in hopes that just one has lingered behind in the migration.
Only about a another month, and they'll be headed south. Safe journey, my little friends.

Puke

So, I decided over the weekend for about the ten billionth time that I would try to eat healthier. I guess you know this means the gravy post will have to wait for an indefinite period of time.
Can we just talk about the frozen crap they sell and try to convince us is healthy? It is healthy, because you can only stomach about 4 bites, which is, btw, ALL they freakin' give you anyway. **Insert head banging smiley here**
Today, for example, I started out well. I had a bagel (no cream cheese) for breakfast and my usual 5 cups of coffee. Mid morning, I had a few chocolate animal crackers...yum. I thought," hell, this is freakin' easy..I can do this." Then, came the............frozen............entree. Puke. I had the Balsamic chicken "steamer" somethin' somethin' with whole wheat pasta and broccoli. Puke. Oh, you can be sure I choked all of it down, because when you're used to eating a cheeseburger or something else fried every day you are starving on a bagel and a few critters. There were, count them, FOUR tiny pieces of chicken about the size of a baby shrimp and about 5 tiny little broccoli florets, a whopping 15 scrawny little penne pasta pieces and maybe some sun dried tomatoes in some useless sauce. The best part of the whole thing was the dessert. A banana.
Portion control has never been one of my strong points and I have the girth to prove it. I have always just sort of rolled my eyes when "they" say a portion should be a half a cup. "They" are full of shit. That was a portion size to me at the age of 6 months. Oh sure, I went through that period of time when I was eating healthy, sensible portions and exercising my ass off. I refer to that dark period of my life as the "panic era". I was 40ish, not married, had two teenagers, a job I hated and virtually nothing to live for. So, I figured why not starve myself to death and if that didn't work, walk my ass off and just keep walking. You know, kinda like Forrest Gump? I came out of that little slump married and promptly gained 20 pounds. **More head banging smilies** But hey, I got a new wardrobe.......again.
Unfortunately, I stocked up on a whole bunch of these effing entrees in anticipation of becoming svelte over the next couple of weeks. So, I can hardly wait to see what tomorrow brings. I'm just gonna reach in the freezer and go for it. I can assure you it will be something like "Supreme Pizza" and it'll be the size of an ipod.

Oh Container Store, how do I love thee?

I must limit my visits to about once a month and I only take a certain amount of cash. If not, believe me, I'd spend my whole freakin' paycheck and up to my limit on every credit card. There are few places that have this effect on me. I think if I could, I would furnish my whole house from the CS. They have very cool and trendy boxes, bags, racks and a million other products that I feel like I can't live without. The kitchen section alone is mesmerizing.
This revelation may come as a surprise to some who think I detest shopping. Most of the time I do. Unless it's a really unique, funky shop, I can generally go through my life never shopping for the sake of shopping. Once in a while, the mood might strike me to venture into uncharted territory like Pottery Barn (which could become the next CS in my mind-therefore, I don't go. Ok..maybe once a year).
Don't even get me started on CS at Christmas. **Insert drooling smiley here** I really make it my little gift to myself to shop for gifts at CS for others and the gift wrap to go along with. Heaven, sheer heaven.
I do, however, love hanging out at Home Depot and Lowe's. Now THEY have some fun and funky stuff. Ever peruse the plumbing aisle? How fun is THAT?! I love all the copper fittings.
The tile aisle is fun too. I love looking at and touching all the different tiles and imagining them in different applications.
The paint section is mind boggling, but so inspirational in my book. I do think it's a tad weird that Disney feels the need to have a paint line when they already make what, about 800 zillion dollars a year from tourists. And they put Mickey's ears on every paint chip card to lure the little ones into choosing "their" colors. Next thing you know, McDonald's will be right there along side them. Yeah, that part of HD is not cool.
So, a shopper I'm not, but I know what I like and lust after, and for me, it's the CS. Call me crazy and look for me there--once a month.

How does your garden grow?

Since early in my childhood, I've loved gardening. My career choice should have been gardener. I don't know why that didn't happen. Life got in the way I suppose. Growing up, I had a neighbor lady next door who was quite elderly, but had lots of spunk. You will learn that I like people with lots of spunk. She gardened every day in her huge iris bed which was between our two houses. I helped her. Mainly, I pulled weeds and sometimes, she let me water. It is one of my fondest memories. She would talk to me about her deceased husband, about her only daughter and granddaughter and how much she missed them. They lived in Paris, Texas and only came to see her about once a month. She always fed me lunch--usually tuna sandwiches. She had cats and I often wondered if they ate the same tuna or if we were eating theirs. :-) I would always do the lunch dishes and I loved that she used Ivory liquid. I can still remember that smell. She made homemade Sake and threw the fermented rice in the yard for the birds. You can imagine the result. She had ancient birdbaths and taught me a love and appreciation for all things in nature. She was my first real best friend and I was devastated when she died. I'll always be grateful for her friendship and I'll always cherish it. Every time one of my irises blooms, I think of her.

I lived next door in the house with my grandparents. My grandfather loved gardening too. He had vegetable gardens and even before I met the lady next door, he would let me tag along as he tended his garden. I ate tomatoes right off the vine. He always acted mad, but I knew better. He wore straw hats and overalls most of the time. He could grow just about any type of vegetable in his garden and my grandmother would cook it up. Amazingly, most of the time it was fried. Go figure. Her fried okra was to die for. She made fried squash, fried potatoes, fresh green beans with new potatoes, cucumber and onion salad, the list goes on. She made biscuits at almost every meal-a couple of  times a day. She made gravy almost every day. Oddly, even though she made pork chops, meatloaf and the like, I wasn't much of a meat or fish fan back then. I guess you could say I was pretty much a vegetarian. I would eat only what few bites I could get away with and scarf up the veggies. On the rare occasion I went out to eat, I ordered hamburgers with no meat.
The only thing out of the garden I didn't care for were beets. Hate 'em to this day. Yuck.

I'm sad to say that I didn't especially pick up my grandmother's talent for making houseplants flourish. I do much better with the stuff outside. My houseplants tend to just gather dust, shrivel up and die. I don't know why I can't remember to water them before it's too late. It's a mystery.

My yard now is almost total shade. I've had to adapt since I only knew sun gardening when I moved here. Shade gardening is a challenge, but one I've enjoyed. Plus, it's a hell of a lot more pleasant to work in the shade than the blazing hot, 104 degree living hell that we inevitably have here in Texas about this time of year. Yeah, I like summer, but I'm about done this year. I'm ready to buy some pansies with their cute little faces and kiss this mofo of a summer goodbye.

Vegas Baby

I'm tired of numbering. They're all out of kilter anyway.

So......Vegas. Love the place. I would go every weekend if I could just hit that one big jackpot to bankroll future trips. I don't play blackjack, roulette or craps. It's the slots for me. They're like a big adult babysitter. I could sit there mesmerized for hours. I am the casino owner's dream. The more noise they make, the better I like them. If I win 10 bucks, I'm thrilled. A hundred and I am ready to quit my job.
Even if I was flat broke and attending my next Gamblers Anonymous meeting in the next ten minutes, I would stop and watch the people around me. Another mesmerizing activity.
The food. Well, the food is pretty effin good. I never felt too bad about eating so much since I spent most of my non-slot time walking from one hotel/casino to another-and I had the blisters to prove it.
The one thing I don't like about Vegas is all those escalators. Anyone in my family will tell you I have an unnatural fear of escalators. The ones in Vegas are really tall. This is a phobia that has developed late in life. They never used to bother me, but now just the thought of having to go near one makes me break out in a cold sweat. I don't know if it's the height or the motion or the combination, but they just make me wanna hurl. I have endured much ridicule from those near and dear about this. Can't help it, don't care. I'm taking the elevator--even in Vegas.

#21..Eggsactly

Oh, I eat eggs. But only if they're mixed into a cake or something. And, I do occasionally eat them when they're deviled and I used to eat fried eggs when I had a bad hangover. Don't ask me why, they just always sounded good. But they had to be fried hard and totally covered and smothered in salsa. None of that runny, yucky, yolk running all over everything and getting your toast all soggy. Soggy bread is almost as gross as eggs-needless to say, I am not a bread pudding fan. And don't even talk to me about French Toast. Scrambled eggs=not so much.
They serve their purpose in baking. Boiling them and peeling them for deviled eggs is just no fun at all imho. Hardly worth the effort.
Egg salad. Eggs with mayonnaise....ok, NOW I'm gonna hurl.

#20...Control Freak

I don't know if I am one or not. I'm sure there's plenty who'd say I am.

#20...Mother Mother Ocean

Mother, mother ocean,
I have heard you call,
Wanted to sail upon your waters
since I was three feet tall. You've seen it all,
You've seen it all.~~Jimmy Buffett


One of my tip top favorite songs ever by someone other than Jackson Browne--but another JB.
I can so relate to these first few lines--my sentiments exactly.

I can still remember the first time I saw the ocean. Actually, it was the Gulf of Mexico and it's still #1 in my heart. I couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 years old. I went to Corpus Christi with my mother, my uncle and his wife and my cousins. I can still remember my uncle taking me out in the waves. I was terrified and thrilled all at the same time. I can remember there were lots of shells all along the beach. To me, it was the perfect day. I didn't travel much as a child or take regular vacations--they were a thing of luxury. When I was probably about 8, I went with my neighbor's family to Padre Island. I found hundreds of sand dollars, played on the beach with their daughter, jumped in the waves. Another perfect couple of days. Then, I didn't go to the ocean for many years until high school. Galveston. Good times.
Then, my uncle bought a place on the beach in Louisiana and I began to go there at least once a year for many years. Sadly, that place was taken by Rita and will never be the same. Again, good times while they lasted.
I saw the Atlantic in New England. So cold, but the beaches were gorgeous, rocky and so different from what I had known.
Then, about 20 years ago, I began to go to Florida. I will never forget the feeling when I first saw those shimmering emerald waters. I was in awe--and yes, it did bring a tear to my eye. The sand was so white--like sugar. The water was so clear--so perfect. I saw dolphins jump for the first time outside a marine park.
So, whenever I can, you'll find me with a chair, and umbrella, a cooler and a cool beverage just sitting there on the beach for hours on end...watching. Just watching the magnificence of Mother Nature at her best.

#19...I heart JB

Jackson Browne. I've loved the man for most of my life. I love his lyrics, I love his melodies, hell I even love his hair. It's that sort of straight swingy kind of hair that I always wanted, but looks infinitely better on him. He's the whole package. And don't be bringing up that whole ugly Daryl Hannah fiasco. I've heard many versions over the years and I've posted a blurb that's pretty close to what I believe happened.

Russ Paris, who maintains the Unofficial Jackson Browne Homepage:

"Nothing ever happened. No charges were filed since there was nothing to file charges over.

Tell people not to believe everything they read in the tabloids.

Based on what I've read and the people I've spoken with, it is my understanding that Jackson called the police that night (she was moving out and he accused her of taking things that didn't belong to her) and if there had been ANY chance that anyone struck anyone else, the police are required by law to have looked into it. All the officers on the scene denied any such thing. Jackson and Daryl have both denied the incident at different times... Jackson at the time and Daryl a number of years later.

Most of the people involved at the time seem to believe that Daryl was upset at their breakup and made up the story as a way to get back at Jackson... and then it got out of her control when the tabloids picked it up. Daryl's ex-boyfriends -- including JFK Jr. -- all say she was capable of that and more... But Jackson has said that he didn't want to drag her reputation through the mud in spite of what she did to his reputation.

I never could stand her anyway. Well, she was okay in Steele Magnolia's but what's she done since?
I have an online acquaintance that calls him Jackson Boring. Well guess what? She ain't my friend on FB and she never fuckin' will be. So take that Missy!
JB is a humanitarian, environmentalist and activist. I may not always agree with his politics, but who the hell cares what I think?
Maybe his plastic surgery is a tad too much, but again, who cares.
I'm a fan and I'll always be a fan. He melts my butter and I would have married him if he had only asked. Rock on JB.

#18..Red

I used to have red hair. Before that, I had brown hair. Now, I have blond hair. Blond over gray. Gray under blond when I've waited too long. Ugh.
When I had red hair, I had fun. When I had brown hair, I had fun. While I've had blond hair, I've had some fun. Gray....not so much. Ugh. Unfortunately, the gray may prevail. Redecorating, smoking and liquor may take up the blond budget soon. Perhaps I should have chosen a career as a hairdresser. Have they not heard we're in a recession? Do they not know that I haven't gotten a raise in over a year? Obviously they are clueless about my own personal recession and just keep right on raising their prices. Yikes. It scares the crap out of me to think I might actually have to "see" what my real hair color is, but I fear it may be coming to that. Yikes.

#17...Paint it black

I love the color black. Black clothes, black furniture, black boots, black cars, black cats. Black clothes you just can't mess up unless you just wash the crap out of them and you don't use that detergent that's for black stuff. Then, you end up with a whole bunch of different shades of black that don't match any of the other shades of black in your closet. This is the voice of experience speaking. Dressing in black never goes out of style IMHO. You can put almost any other color with it and dash out the door without much of a thought process. I particularly like how brown looks with black. It might just be my favorite color combination.
Black furniture is a new thing for me. In the past, I've leaned toward various types of wood for furniture, but I have stepped into the twenty first century and discovered that black furniture looks pretty flippin' good..especially when mixed with other types and colors of furniture. I am in the process of doing a mini makeover in my house and my new colors are beige (walls), cream (some furniture and accessories) and black (some other furniture). I'm not quite sure how it's all going to come together, but I'll post a pic if it looks worth a shit. If not, I probably won't mention it again.
Black boots.....love 'em. Short ones, tall ones, mid calf ones. I never know which ones are in style, unless I consult with my message board buds. I just always buy boots that I like and screw what fashion says. I've discovered lately though that I have to buy boots that are also comfortable. Dammit. I love those spiky heeled tall hooker boots, but can no longer pull them off for a myriad of reasons--the top two being age and weight. (Another topic)
Black cars...they're the best. Yes, they're hot as hell. Yes, they get dirty really quick. But they look amazing when they're clean and shiny. Mine is rarely clean and shiny since I don't park in the garage. That privilege is for the male of the household. We have a two car garage, but the other side is full of crap that I had to put in storage and then get out again when our house was on the market and then off. (Also another topic)
Black cats....no, they're not bad luck. They're pretty darned adorable and have gotten a bad rap for way too long. In the not too distant past, I had as many as three. Now, I'm down to one who worships the ground I walk on. I can't say that for many other creatures in my life. So, how can I not love him? He's got a real original name too. Blackie. How's that for ingenious?
There's lots of other crap I like that's black. Our black lab. She's his dog though--and (another topic). I like black onyx jewelry, black cows and sheep, bats, just to name a few.
Black and white photos are usually so much more powerful than color, also imho.

#16....Batter up!

I think I may have mentioned my adoration for fried okra. Actually, you can fry up just about anything and I'll eat it--and I've got the body to prove it. There are a few exceptions to this: any kind of organ meat being the main one. But pretty much anything else, especially items in the vegetable category are so much more appealing when fried. You won't catch me eating zucchini that's been steamed (it squeaks when you chew it), but put some batter on it and I'll deal with the squeak. It doesn't necessarily have to be battered--i.e. fried potatoes. I think the main criteria for me anyway, is crunch. In the case of fried potatoes, they must be soft and crunchy. Make sense?
Then there is the big daddy of all things fried....chicken fried steak. I grew up on it and life would be meaningless without it. Good steak, crunchy crust, homemade cream gravy (a topic on it's own), and the following supporting cast would be my last meal if I ever found myself having to make that choice. Fried potatoes, Fried okra, fresh sliced tomatoes, pinto beans and homemade yeast rolls. Variations could include fresh black eyed peas, fried squash, fresh off the cob fried corn--the list goes on.
Fried potatoes are in no way to be confused with french fries. Not the same. Fried potatoes are fried in a cast iron skillet with onions, salt and pepper. They're sort of steamed then crisped up at the end. Here's the recipe:






Fried Potatoes

4-5 Medium sized potatoes--any variety will do. I use russet
1/2 Medium onion-chopped
Vegetable oil, Crisco or canola oil. About 1/4" in the bottom of an iron skillet.
Salt, Pepper and maybe some garlic powder

Peel and slice potatoes about 1/8" to 1/4" thick. The key is to keep them uniform in thickness.
Heat oil in skillet to about 350 degrees--give or take. Add potatoes. Add onions. Cover and cook approximately 15 minutes over med heat--you might want to leave the lid ajar just a little to let some of the steam escape. At some point, add salt and pepper. When potatoes begin to brown and soften, turn gently with spatula. Cover and cook a few minutes longer. Uncover and continue cooking until most of the potatoes become crispy. Remove from pan and drain on paper towel. Test for seasoning and adjust if necessary.

Add more oil to skillet and fry up some okra while you're at it:

http://www.crazyauntpurl.com/archives/2006/07/fried_okra_1.php

I love Crazy Aunt Purl and hers is the closest to what I remember my grandmother's fried okra to be like. While you're there, read some of her stuff. Good times. In fact, she is my inspiration for blogging.

Now, the sensible side of me knows that this stuff is not for the middle-aged, overweight, smoker, drinker, cusser. I know I should be eating tofu and bean sprouts, but that just wouldn't be any fun at all. I don't eat this stuff all the time, but would if I could get away with it. I limit my intake of Southern Heaven to once or twice a week--and then only just one dish at a time--dammit.

#15..I hate liars

Short and sweet.

#14..On the Road Again

I love road trips. I love that feeling the night before when you're trying to fall asleep, but the anticipation and excitement just make it impossible. This is especially true if you're going somewhere you've never been before. Well, it is for me anyway.
I start planning weeks ahead IN my head. What will I take? What will I wear? Where am I going to eat? What books to take? A million details. I never actually get around to packing until the night before. Then, I do laundry, pack, re-pack and jump into bed to spend a sleepless night waiting for time to leave. I figure in the twenty years of my current relationship/marriage, we've logged about 40 road trips. Most of them have been to Florida and most of them have been good. HE would not agree, just because HE hates road trips. He doesn't like driving, but doesn't like riding either. We have now decided that it's just best for me to get a head start and pick his ass up at the airport. I'd be fine if I never flew again, but that would somewhat hinder my secret plan to go to France and Italy. Massive amounts of liquor will be needed before I board that plane and I won't sleep for weeks before that trip, if it ever happens.
So, somewhere along the line, I started taking my precious daughter on road trips--either with husband, with my friends or just the two of us. I have to say the latter two of the three are preferable, for the reasons listed above. She and I have the best road trips. The last trip we took to Florida, we left at 3AM and had to stop in East Texas for a little shut eye, but we persevered.
Most of the time, we can keep ourselves entertained, but there was one trip where we were just flat bored and read the Atlas to each other for about 6 straight hours. We've gone through some hellacious storms on the road. One time, we SWEAR we were in a tornado in Southeast Texas. The sky was green--and it was raining so effing hard that we couldn't see shit. We pulled over at a convenience store and made a run for it, only to be told by the cashier that if the power went out, she'd have to kick us out. Thankfully, we were spared.
We've seen some strange sights. I will just say that a lot of those sights brought the word "Deliverance" to mind. We've had some great food and some of the crappiest crap food along the way. A word of advice....McDonald's, Tallulah, LA.....run for you life. You'd be better off eating off the floor of the filling station bathroom down the street.
What you see above are known as "love bugs". They become permanently attached to your vehicle sometime around September here in Texas/Louisiana. They are disgusting, vile, pornographic creatures and they deserve to die. I only wish it was on someone else's grill!
We've been to some interesting tourist attractions and frankly, most of them had something to do with boiled peanuts. Don't ask me why, it's the south. Boiled peanuts, btw, taste like shit.
It looks like my next road trip will be to Kansas City. Haven't been there in a while and we're going for HIS high school reunion. I think massive amounts of liquor might have to be consumed before that trip too.

#13...I can't even talk about it

Well, I can talk about if I won the lottery. Of course, to win, you have to play. I'm a sporadic player. Don't know if that's good or bad, lucky or not. I just don't think about it very often. But one thing's for sure, if I did win, I would give a big old hunk of it to some homeless creatures. I can't even stand to think about them out there, day after day, with no where to go and no one who loves them. That's it, you know how I feel. I'm done.

#12..Mornings

Once I get up and have that first cup o' joe, I'm ok. It's the physically getting up that I have trouble with. Yeah, the physical part of dragging my tired ass out of the bed can be quite daunting. Usually, I've gotten a grand total of three hours sleep and of course, when it's time to rise, is the time when I'm sleeping the best. Lately, I've been thinking of taking some.....uh....sleep aids as my friend Martha calls them. Nothing prescription, but just a little something to maybe keep me asleep for more than 3 hours. I have another friend who takes seroquel and it pretty well knocks her out. On second thought, maybe I need that shit. I have no trouble FALLING asleep, it's STAYING asleep. Of course it doesn't help that we have an 80 lb. Lab that barks when an effing cat walks across the yard at 2 AM. God forbid anything really be wrong. We don't even get concerned any more. But that loud, relentless barking out of total silence will bring you from a dead sleep to an upright position rather quickly and you might just have to change your underwear--if you wear it.
Then, there's the adorable husband who swears he doesn't snore, when in reality he could blow the front door off from where he lies in his bed. Lord help me. This is after he has fallen asleep in front of the TV in the den with it at full tilt volume. He then comes to bed and pronounces that he cannot stand to have the TV in the bedroom on and if it is, it must have the volume turned all the way down. Now, I ask you, does this make any fucking sense whatsoever? The man who can sleep through a barking dog, a blaring TV (in another room), and me getting up numerous times to go to the bathroom during the night, can't stand the tiniest noise coming from a TV that I just MIGHT happen to be watching since I'm up most of the night anyway. The peeing at night is yet another perk of menopause....ugh..and yet another reason I only sleep three hours a night total. I never said it was three consecutive hours--ugh.
SO, the only thing that really keeps me going is coffee and lots of it. The stronger the better. With half and half. It must have half and half. In a dire emergency, such as avoiding a 5AM trip to the Quick Trip to steal some of those little containers of half and half that never need refrigeration, I will use powdered creamer. Did I just type that out loud? I am so ashamed! And what IS up with that no refrigeration thing anyway?
Coffee....I try to get up first and make it, because if he makes it, it looks like tea. I like trying different beans from Central Market, but I can't say I've come across one that I just can't live without. I'm still looking. Frankly, I like some good old Columbian Folger's made double strong.
I think I'll go get the pot ready for in the morning and take one of those sleep aids for tonight.

#11...Miss Patsy

We met in fifth grade when her school merged with my school. We've been friends ever since. We've been through boyfriends, school, marriages, divorces, kids, grandkids (for me--she's still waiting for her first), funerals, road trips, health scares, pretty much you name it. We have some secrets that only the two of us will ever know. We have promises that we'll each rush to each others house if we drop dead and..uh.."clean up" before all the mourners get there.
We call her Miss Patsy because that's what our "kids" at the day care where we worked in high school called her. I was Miss Renee. We worked for a lady that was our mentor. She taught us lots of valuable life lessons like, "it's not what you know, it's who you know." We worked with a guy who used to play piano and sing us songs like "Get Back" and "As Time Goes By". We made some poor choices, but we always rebounded. We used to go to downtown Dallas every Texas/OU weekend, despite her mother's foreboding tone. We wrecked a few cars. We got an apartment together when really the only stuff we had was two waterbeds, two stereos, two plates and two forks. We were in heaven. We visited Austin often back in the good old days. She married and moved away. She divorced and came back. She married again, but only for a few days and we never speak of it. Well, I speak of it, but not around her. :-) Then, she married the love of her life...
Her husband is a jewel. Her son is adorable. She made them that way. She has the biggest heart and really, the blondest hair of anyone I know. She has some big old rings and jewelry and a eyeglass string holder thingy for every occasion. She calls everyone Precious..and she means it. She looks just like Paula Deen. She's the most fun you'd ever want to have at lunch. She is lucky on the slots and she goes to church most Sundays. She's my friend...Miss Patsy.