Da Thrill Is Gone (From Here) - Chris Thomas King

You tell 'em, Tabby....

LSU plays in the SEC championship game Saturday, but....you'd never know it to see and hear people around here. Throwing #1 away takes the thrill away....

Maybe next year?

Oh, well. ROLL TIDE! anydamnway

And what's to say about the mighty LSU?

....Too many coaches thinking about too many other jobs. PATHETIC!

Reading between the lines......

Well, the holidays have begun. Nothing I could do to stop them. I don't actually hate the holiday season. It's just so up and down for me. Things just aren't easy. Getting everyone together. Pleasing everyone. Never happens, but (thank the good lord) there are always some bright spots inbetween. And my kids seem to have chosen to remember the good instead of the bad. That's a good thing.

Actually, one of my memories that I know is going to special for years to come was made early this year -- the day before Thanksgiving. Three of my kids are in North Carolina. They called Wednesday to tell me their Thanksgiving Day menu and to check the recipes of mine they had chosen to make. Their friends were making recipes their own mom's usually make. As my kids checked the ingredients and talked about the food we'd had in the past, I realized the phone call wasn't about food. In their own way (maybe without realizing it themselves), they were saying, "Love you, Mom."

I wasn't so quick last year when son #1 called from Oregon to make sure he had my dressing recipe correct. He's a good cook and probably makes better dressing than I do. His call was a way of connecting. Well, now I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe the holidays aren't so bad after all.

Happy Thanksgiving!

For some reason I was blown away when I heard this familiar song last night. I thought it was appropriate for Thanksgiving. J. thinks I'm weird.

Biscuits & gravy, black cats and white paint......

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Since it's only me and J. this year (this has never happened before), I'm planning a manageable meal. I picked up some chicken breasts stuffed with cornbread dressing at the meat store -- along with some yams. I'm going to pop a green bean casserole in the oven -- along with some Sister Schubert's rolls. That and the pecan pie I made last night will be it. ....If I hadn't made biscuits and gravy this morning, I could even say it would be a somewhat healthy day. Oh, well!

It's going to be a chilly, wet weekend, so seafood gumbo and cornbread tomorrow. Along with pecan sandies. Then Saturday, for the Iron Bowl(which I refuse to watch), we'll have meat pies and corn casserole along with left overs. I love having the menu planned out like that.

So, enjoy your day everyone. Travel safely, eat with gusto, give thanks for six things, and....if anyone knows how to get white paint off a black cat, I'd appreciate hearing it.

Now I'm wondering......

Son #1 once had a girlfriend from St. Louis. Sweet girl. Very weird mom. For a while I thought she was to be my daughter-in-law (the daughter -- not the mom), but....it didn't happen. I was reminded of her tonight while watching the latest Netflix, "Waiting for Guffman."

You see, she told the story that her family was from St. Louis by accident. The story goes that one of her ancestors was headed to California to settle. For some reason, once he arrived in St. Louis he thought he was in California so he stayed. ....Now, I never could figure out if I should find that story quaint or if I should worry about future grandchildren with horrendous senses of direction.

Nevertheless, imagine my surprise to hear basically the same story on "Waiting for Guffman." The movie says that Blaine Fabian (I think) was on his way to California, arrived in Blaine, MO and thought he was in California -- so, he stayed. Too much of a coincidence. I'm not saying that it couldn't have happened in real life and then been thought up for the movie, but....I have my doubts.

The Guffman movie was cute -- and fairly short. The only problem was that it reminded J. of how much he liked "A Mighty Wind," so he pops it into the CD player and I had to sit through it. I missed Criminal Minds -- a tv program that amazes me. The things that happen on that show....I cannot imagine how a human being can think that way.

Just another day in the boonies of central Louisiana......

It started out so innocently. Four of us, who haven't seen each other in way too long, deciding to meet up and travel to the boonies of central Louisiana and help the one going through a divorce clear out her cabin on the river. She only wanted a couple of paintings and a few dishes, so it wasn't going to be a large undertaking. It was a spur of the moment idea -- literally put together the night before and the day of. The highlight of the short trip was a planned stop for a meal at a wonderful little out-of-the-way restaurant. So, away we went -- blissfully unaware of the surprises that awaited us.

The time and miles flew by with the car full of chatter, laughter, flaky pastries, and good strong, hot coffee. The higher above sea level we climbed, the more likely we were to spot a tree displaying leaves of gold or red. The air that had been a tad crisp earlier that morning started turning to that soft, gentle breeze that -- while still warm -- held the promise of autumn. We arrived at the cabin contented (but with somewhat of a sugar and coffee high).

We had all been to this cabin over the years. One of our favorite things to do was gather up there and -- cook. On those long ago weekends, as the kids did whatever it was they were in to at the time, all us moms and dads would sip wine, hum along (or sing loudly) with the music playing, laugh, smile, stir, taste, add salt -- or pepper, chop onions and peppers....endless mountains of onions and peppes. And then, by late afternoon we were ready to gather at that huge, wobbly table and share the feast we'd spent all day preparing. An after-supper stroll to enjoy the sunset, and back to the big screened in porch to sip coffee or drinks and plan the next day's meal. Good times.

After gathering and packing up all the items on our friend's list, we loaded into the car and headed to the restaurant -- famished. It didn't take long to get there, and we parked the car, got out, and walked in as we debated what we wanted to order. You know how it can be hard to see after walking inside from the bright sunlight sometimes? That's how it was with us that day. That's what we thought was happening as the first person stopped dead in her tracks and, one after one -- like bowling pins -- we each one bumped into the other. We snickered at ourselves, and then -- one by one -- we saw what the problem actually was.

There he was. Sitting not fifteen feet away. Sitting with a woman we didn't recognize. Sitting with this woman in a way that you could tell was not just a business meeting or anything bordering on innocent. My vision blurred, my ears started buzzing -- I actually thought I was going to black out. And, it wasn't even my husband. And, unfortunately, not even the husband of the friend going through the divorce. This one belonged to the one of us who had first walked into the restaurant. She had been the first to see him. And the first to react.

What would you do in a situation like that? If I've ever thought about it, it involved drinks thrown into both their faces, steak knives, and.... What did my friend do, you wonder? Well, let me tell you. It was as if she was following a script she'd studied. She looked at us. Then she walked over to the bastard and the whore her husband's table, and.... She tilted her chin up. She smiled. Said, "Hello, S." Slipped off her wedding ring and dropped it into his drink. She was so freakin' cool it was like watching a movie. Afterwards (some time afterwards), the rest of us regreted not cheering and applauding. We just glared daggers at him.

Then, our hero/friend, walked back to us, and said, "I'm starving, girls. Let's eat." Can you even believe it!? So....we were led to a table, ordered and (after regaining our senses) consumed a fabulous meal. The owner came and sat with us and jokingly said she had a list of men she'd like us to take care of. My friend's meal was "on the house," and if we'd accepted all the free rounds of drinks offered, we'd never had made the drive back to the city.

And what did the offending husband and his 'ho do, you ask? Well....after rescuing the discarded wedding ring from his drink -- which involved (we were told by delighted diners who had been sitting near him) the use of a fork, and then a knife, and then (fork and knife failing) the request for a bowl into which he poured (after slapping back the hand of a helpful/flustered server offering to do the deed for him) hubby (visably flustered by then -- poor bastard) splattered his drink into the bowl, grabbed the nice sized diamond ring, and stomped out of the restaurant.

We saw his exit. He didn't even have the presence of mind (wonder why??) to drag the woman along with him. She followed along hurriedly on her own. I assume he was waiting in the parking lot. How would you like to have been a mosquito in that car on the ride back to the city?

My friend is okay. Still stunned, but okay. Me? I'm still trembly.

On the drive back, we realized this was yet another way this city's changed since the storm. Those little out-of-the-way restaurants you used to could count on for a clandestine rendezvous? Not so much anymore....

Ain't it the truth......

To fully appreciate this wonderfully funny picture "borrowed" from Red Sht!ck Magazine, you might need to google our new governor elect's bio -- Bobby Jindal.

Sometimes, things can be so predictable......

like the saying, "It takes money to make money" or "You have to have a job to get a job."

Yes, ma'am. Wouldn't you just know it. One of the major reasons my daughter, A., moved to North Carolina was to better her chances of getting a good job in forensics or criminal justice -- hopefully a federal job. As I've mentioned, after months of applying and interviewing she decided to expand her job search to industry and was hired by the first company she applied to.

This was her first week at work and so far she likes the job and the people. (Her feet are torn up from wearing the wrong shoes the first couple of days, but....) So....she calls me last night to tell me she received an email that she is one of the top three for an EPA job.

Sheesh! When it rains it pours.

Did I mention here that......

last September, J. and I spent a week at our beautiful American Riviera?
Click here It was a lovely week. Hot, with some scattered rain, but good just the same. This time I didn't rent extra space in case the kids decided to come down for a night or two. This time I rented a one bedroom -- just big enough for us. I was afraid it would be too small, but it was lovely. Updated after Ivan and beautifully decorated. It faced west and we were blessed with beautiful sunsets each (well, many) nights.

We didn't waste time talking with realtors and veiwing properties this trip. I think my nagging, along with umpteen hurricanes, and....realtors being frank about how high taxes and insurance (if you can find it) have become, have just about convinced J. that the mountains are a better choice for us. Seasons. Cool air. Sweaters.

We did meet a fabulous older lady from New York. She must have been in her 70's but she is living proof that age is only a number. She and her husband (who died a few years ago) bought a unit in the building we were staying in and moved down from NY some time ago. We had run into her a couple of times before we really struck up a conversation -- in the elevator.

J. is as gregarious as she, and when he mentioned I had spent time last summer in NYC, that was all it took. Questions for me which led to her sharing her life in the city. She was so interested and interesting. I soon realized how much she was missing NYC. And I understood. She has a daughter living in upstate NY and visits her often. As well as a daughter in Winston Salem. Small world.

Anyway, as we said goodbye she started belting out "Give My Regards to Broadway." WTH! J. --who's (apparantly) as nutty as she, started booming out the song right along with her. Which left me -- Miss Uptight -- standing there mortified, but....mumbling along with them.

Which makes me wonder. Do all NYers start singing at the drop of a hat? The last thing we did as a group at Teachers College was join arms and sing "New York, New York"....

Day one and all's well......

Did I mention that my beautiful daughter got a job? She did!

Actually....she has no problem getting a job -- the problem is that she becomes disenchanted or bored all too quickly and quits. Another problem is that she's decided she doesn't like the field for which her Master's degree and doctoral work has prepared her. I told her to get some work experience in the field before she started graduate school, but nooooooooooooooooo.

After moving to NC, she spent several futile months interviewing for jobs in criminal justice (she was either over-qualified or lacked work experience), so she decided to apply for a job in her undergraduate field. And....she was offered (and accepted) the first one she applied for. Go figure! It might have helped that her boss graduated from the same program at the same university in MS. Small world.

She started Monday and, so far -- so good. It sounds very promising and quite challenging, and she's working in a clean lab instead of a prison or jail or whatever. Her dad is very proud of her -- he insisted she get her undergraduate degree in a hard science field. It seems he was right. He'll never let her forget it....

My dad & football......

Okay. Football and sentimentality do not mix well. I know that. But.... there comes a point in each football season since my father passed away that I find myself missing him more than usual. That point's arrived for this season.

I'll watch tomorrow's LSU/BAMA game with my dad's memory alive and kickin'. After I graduated from LSU, he and I decided that, no matter which team won, neither of us would be losers. That was quite a concession coming from him -- a life-long BAMA fan. My first memory of my dad is him calling to me, "Get over here, Girl. BAMA's in trouble." I'd scoot over and let him rub the top of my head for luck.

Later, after I'd married and settled in another state, I could always count on his phone calls every time LSU and BAMA played. "They're looking good, Girl," he'd say about which ever team was winning. After every spectaculary good (or bad) play, the phone would ring.

I felt so special during those calls. My dad and I didn't share many experiences during my growing up. He traveled for a living, and with two sons, much of his time home was spent with them and their sports activities. At that time sports didn't hold much opportunity for girls. That's just how it was back then.

As my children were born my dad and mom would visit often, but it was still me and my mom interacting mostly while my dad played with the kids. After my mom passed away, is when my father started his calls during that special football game each year. I still remember how suprised (and pleased) I was after that first call. I guessed it was his way of staying in touch, and I loved him all the more for caring enough to think of his own way of showing me his love.

So, Daddy....are you ready for some football!? We got us a good one coming up tomorrow, and -- neither of us can lose. Love you bunches.

Spent the morning with the Roto Rooter dude......

Mine is from Honduras, by way of New Jersey and Florida. Nice guy (and very talkative!).

G-d bless Roto Rooter! So nice not to have sandy water coming up your bathtub drain when you use your washer.

But....this experience made me remember my last post -- the one with the toilet question. Did I have a premonition?