the starry night

One night last week, I found myself lying on a lounge chair under the stars, with my youngest daughter Deborah lying beside me on another lounger.

It had been a difficult week for both of us. I had been to the radiation oncologist and was one step closer to getting my boob barbecued.

Deborah's week had been equally difficult.  Life has been sending her curves for a while now, and every time she gets a foothold and feels as though she is beginning to move forward, something knocks her down.  This time the something was enough to make her feel hopeless for a bit, before she righted herself and decided to plunge forward.

So there we were, watching the Perseid meteor shower on the peak night in August when they were shooting across the sky leaving long trails, talking about a lot of different things.  It brought to mind a favorite song about one of my favorite artists and that song ran through my mind while we lay there star gazing.

The talking included a couple glasses of wine, so that may explain why our conversation ambled along about these subjects:

Nocturnal cow mooing.  We thought it was a romantic time of the month for cows, and the meteors were putting them in the mood.  One cow in particular bawled her way across the pasture from where we sat, mooing loudly from one end to the other.  Occasionally another couple of cows would chime in.

Tiger chuffing.  Not to be mistaken with roaring.  Deb said it was a sign of her lack of a social life, that the last thing she searched for on her iPhone was tiger chuffing.  It was replaced by cow mooing, which is when we discovered it wasn't cow sex going on, but one cow trying to find the herd.  Which totally burst our romantic notion about cows.  I was irritated at this point by the cow screaming across the road, so I.....

Stirred the cows up with my iPhone flashlight.  I know, totally mean of me, and I paid for it by being flogged by a million bugs rushing at the light and up my nose, in my eyes and ears, and...well you get the idea.  Deb also was eaten alive while Googling cow mooing.

Our California road trip.  Possibly the best road trip of our lives.  While we reminisced about the trip, we also talked about our own insignificance in the scheme of the universe, watching the sky light up with orange meteors shooting past in the sky overhead.  Then things deteriorated again when we decided to move our lounge chairs to face the house because it seemed like the meteors were coming from there.  That was when....

I peed my pants trying to get up off the lounge chair to move it.  I hadn't been to yoga in a couple months due to recouping from surgeries, so my abdominal muscles were jello, and so were my legs, which led to the above.  After we got settled down, we realized that the meteors were actually more visible in the direction we had just turned from, and somehow I made it up off the lounge, then Deb said something, I laughed, and peed my pants again. Just a little.   At that point, we started to laugh and talked about....

Estrogen levels and how they affect homicidal behavior.  I had just been taken off all estrogen, given a tablet to block my body absorbing any estrogen it might try to produce on its own, and told that the pill would probably give me hot flashes.  By a doctor who was smiling so kindly at me when he said it that I thought seriously about slapping him.  Just for a second.  Which means this ain't gonna be good, if I felt like that while I had estrogen still floating around.  About this time a leaf blew off the tree and hit Deb's shoulder, and she screamed loudly.  Which made a cow start mooing again and made us....

Laugh at shadows, more bugs, and leaves.  About that time we were sipping the last of our wine, and didn't notice Steve slip out and say something in his booming deep voice.  I jumped and screamed and so did Deb.  I thought a cow had gotten loose, circled around behind us and was about to charge us.  I invited Steve to join us, but he said no, he was going back to bed, which caused me to wonder out loud why the *#&$ he had bothered coming out at all.  Except I knew why.

He wanted to make me scream and pee my pants.

Because he is evil that way.

Thanks Deb, my Wretched Daughter, for being there to watch stars with me.  Let's do it again kiddo. Same time, next year.

(This post is in response to two prompts on Friday Reflections, how I deal with anxiety, and reflecting on my favorite song.  Somehow, this week, they were both tied together.) 

...life is good. ~cat
i am @jonesbabie on twitter

generations

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

summer's last haiku

...life is good. ~cath
  find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

caesar's glory

 {this moment} - A Friday ritual.  Photos - no words - capturing a moment from the week.  A moment in time I want to capture, to savor and remember.

“This Moment” is a ritual I found on Pamanner's Blog, via Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama.  Check out their blogs, and if you are moved too, please leave a link to your Moment in the comment box below.

...life is good. ~cath  

find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

summer haiku

Summer is in full swing.  This is my favorite time of summer.  The days are bearably warm, the nights still cool down.  Mornings on the back porch with a cup of tea, and evenings in the hot tub with a glass of wine.  Who cares what comes in between?

...life is good. ~cath 
@jonesbabie on Twitter

summer haiku moment

Because I am a person of words, I am changing the Friday moment ritual, to reflect my spirit a bit better...and so I share with you a moment from yesterday...

{this moment}  is a ritual I found on Pamanner's Blog, via Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama. Check out their blogs, and if you are moved too, please leave a link to your Moment in the comment box below.


have a great weekend!
~cath xo
Twitter @jonesbabie

genghis fly and the horde

I got home from work yesterday hot and tired.  It's summer in the south, and feels like we are living three inches from hell.  I get through the summer thinking about how wonderful fall is.   Cool crisp air, autumn leaves in golds and reds.  Steve gets through summer thinking of autumn too.  Football.

As I dream of cooler temperatures I tell Steve hi.  And hear something buzz past my ear.  Damn fly.  I hate them.  Nasty harbingers of maggots to come.  I tell Steve.  He says "I know there are several in here and I killed a couple."

As I walk in the kitchen I notice that there are several flies.  There are more than several.  There are a bunch.  A bunch of flies is equal to at least ten.





Him: I don't know where they came from.  There's your chicken, wrapped in the sink and thawed, I have the rest nearly ready.
Me: Is that deer you are cooking?
Him: yes.
Me: I changed my mind I don't want anything.

So I put the chicken in the fridge and walk away.  He thinks I am mad, but the combination of flies, heat, and the odor of cooking deer combined make my appetite go far, far away.

I go back in the living room and notice.  More flies on the storm door.  By more I mean at least 15.

Now I am starting to look around the room.  REALLY look around.

And there are dozens.  Upon dozens.  I open the back door and caught between the door and storm door are more than I can count.  On the inside, and on the outside, trying to get in.

I am shuddering in disgust as I shriek for Steve to do something.  So he does.

He leaves. He covers his food and leaves.

To go get fly spray.  While he is gone I start swatting.  I feel like my flyswatter has turned into a lightsaber.  I start to feel the Jedi emerge in me.  I swat, thrust, parry, pivot and duck, swat.  The FORCE IS WITH ME.

Then Steve gets back and I hear the sssshhhhhhhh of fly spray.  He is working his way in, weapon drawn and mowing down flies in a wide swath.  I hear the screams of the dying horde.

Ok, so that was a bit over the top.  They weren't screaming.  But they were buzzing.  And when he sprayed the house, and the windows in the bathroom and wreck room...you could hear a loud hum.  REALLY.  There were so many that they made a loud vibrating hum as their little wings beat the air in the fatal dance of fly mortality.

Steve and I stood there and looked at each other.  And we never did figure out where they came from.

But I do know we got their leader.  He was the biggest, hairiest fly of the bunch.

Genghis Fly.

He's gone too now.  And his horde with him.  Swallowed by my Dyson.

But they will live on in legend.



~cath xo
Twitter @jonesbabie