Claiming my Inner Bitch

14 March 2007

Memory of Winter

I live on the bank of a creek.

During the month of February, the northeast of the United States was hit with a period of particularly frigid weather. As I walked outside at night, especially in the cold, wee hours, I bore witness to a strange phenomenon, one I’d never encountered in a lifetime growing up and living in the woods. I heard cracks and pops in the treetops, sometimes followed by the unmistakable sound of a twig or small branch falling to the ground.

On the coldest nights, the sound was almost like corn popping.

The most sound explanation I can come up with is living on the creek, something I’d never done before.

The far bank is much more shallow and sloping than mine. During heavy rains, I’ve seen the water rise as far as 25 or 30 yards onto that bank. (Thank God my bank is so much higher!)

My guess is that these are trees accustomed to having very “wet feet.” As a consequence of having their feet close to or below the water level, they tend to store a lot of water.

When the temperature drops from above freezing to 15 F in a matter of hours, the water in those smallest limbs is sure to freeze. The expansion of the liquid during freezing causes the limb or twig to burst open. Sometimes the eruption causes such damage that the twig fractures and falls noisily to earth.

Pretty cool, huh?

The temperature reached a high of 65 here in my little corner of the Philly ‘burbs today. I raked a bit, cleaned out birdhouses, relocated a few things in the garden, finally emptied my containers from last season (I know, I know…bad gardener!). I surveyed the damage done to my muscari bulbs by the January thaw. They’re up, a little ragged and brown around the edges. Hopefully, the blooms will not be negatively affected. Only time will tell.

It felt good to have my hands in the soil and to feel the sweat squeezing its way through my pores.

For some reason, I decided Sadie must be bathed. For as much as she hates to be bathed, she is the most wonderful dog to bathe I’ve ever had! She’ll get in, albeit reluctantly, without my having to lift her in. She stands stock still for the whole process and waits until I get the towel up before she shakes off when we’re done.

So, the garden shows signs of life, the dog is clean, the bathroom is clean, I found my tanzanite ring while cleaning the bathroom (the last memory I had of it was last week while packing…”My, that’s a strange place for me to have put my ring.” Followed by, “I’ll run into it again while packing.” Location, the shelf of the over-hopper cabinet, where the hand cream is.) I’ve run a bath (Avon’s Tranquil Moments bubbles) and have yummy soaps, shampoos, scrubbies and creams all waiting for me.

So what am I doing wasting time here?

Labels: life, senses

16 January 2007

Philly Fog | Indilgences

There's fog in the city of brotherly love and its immediate environs tonight. I walked outside with Sadie on leash into a soup of near-London proportions. Okay, maybe not London but I certainly thought, "This is what New Orleans must be like in 'winter.' " Funny, but when I was down there in November one year I liked to have froze my bloody arse off, but that's another story.

So, the fog here might be a mere consomme compared to Europe, but it's powerful just the same. This is a fog which captures the sound, muffles and alters it slightly, and holds it down near the earth's ear. You can hear it all...a dog bark from the other side of town, the planes taking off from the airport. The drip, drip, drip of the water that should be running down the downspout had it not released its grip on its moorings last week. The sound of a horn from the river or the Boeing plant. The far-off wail of a fire siren

Our steps were squishy and loud in the night, Sadie's and mine.

A couple arguing in the parking lot.

One couldn't help but strain the ears to catch the frequent "fuck"s from the young man and talk about "her" from the young woman. I took it to be a third party argument. At first I wanted the issue to be resolved but I reconsidered. I think I would prefer that the girl arguing with the man in the fog, who was possibly terribly in love with him and decidedly more worthy than the woman in the discussion, have her wish granted. I desire the young man to realize the error of his ways and kiss the young woman deeply and passionately. I wished for them to ride off, clippety-clop, into the fog on a white steed (hers).

Instead, another couple had joined the discussion by the time Sadie and I had made our loop and I believe I heard the sound of laughter. I'd had visions of the young man driving hellishly through the lot and ending up on a trauma stretcher at my old place of employ. Well, not quite visions but a suggestion that that possibility lie down one of the possible trajectories from the event. But that's Einsteinian and also for another post.

I've spent the day; the winter thus far, really; hibernating. I've been taking a little journey inside myself and finding out all sorts of yummy stuff but that, too, is for another post. Today, Saturday that is, I slept until almost 2, had an Angus bacon cheddar burger for my meal, nodded off to some of my favorite sounds in the stereo and watched what may have been one of the greatest football games I've ever seen take place, live, in New Orleans, Louisiana...the NFC playoff game between my Philadelphia Eagles and the New Orleans Saints. I bet you this one winds up on some best playoff games ever dvd, but that's yet another post.

I've still got my (Charlie Brown) Christmas tree and lights up and am enjoying one more night of their sweet, warm glow. They'll have to come down tomorrow, shortly after whatever time I wake up. It's 4AM and I still haven't gotten in the tub...

I just now ate a very slightly stale white cream with chocolate icing doughnut washed down but ice cold milk in a frosted mug. I keep two mugs in the freezer, mostly for soda. Oh, and I also had the most delicious orgasm. Wow! It just doesn't get much better than this.

Now it's off to a candlelit bubble bath then off to bed in my silky cotton sheets. I've determined that what I want most right now for my body to be as soft and smooth from head to toe; nails filed, legs shaved, heels pumiced, hair slick; as possible. A variety of scents and lotions and textures then a blissful nights sleep.

Funny how sometimes you have to go into the fog to see clearly inside.

Yes, I've been holed up here, yes I've been cocooning, but isn't that what one has to do at certain stages of the game? Hell, I turn fifty in less than two months. If it was ever time for an epiphany...

So, I'm sorry I haven't been writing or even reading much. I'll be back around again in the near future, I believe. Hell, I've got at least three new post ideas in this one alone. If you know anything about me at all, you should have guessed that it's rather hard for me to shut up. I'm especially loud in the fog. I hope my grandboy is just like me!

I once said I'd like my grandson to tell me one day that I'm "cool," or whatever the corresponding terminology of the day is. I realized the other day is I want my grandson to say to me, "Grandma, you're not a grownup!"

I'll come back and fix the pictures and spell-check later. It's fucking four-thirty o'the clock and I needs me beauty sleep.

Until next time.

Labels: blogging, life, personal growth, senses, sex, therapy

17 December 2006

Friday Random Number Post / Better Late than Never (Today translates to, "Fuck you, it's the fricking holiday season!" (Four)

Yeah, yeah, yeah. A day and a half late and a dollar short, that’s me. Actually, several dollars shorter than I was yesterday since I spent the day out Christmas shopping with my mother. (We actually didn’t do too bad, considering, but that’s another post, another blog, another day.)

Four Things I Bloody Well Hate About the Christmas Season

1) Rude Drivers: Why is it necessary to place your vehicle square in the middle of the intersection when the light is turning yellow? Will it really hurt so much to wait out one more traffic light sequence? Is that lost 90 seconds going to keep you from baking one more holiday cookie for the unfortunate family that lives down the street? Or is it going to keep you from putting yourself further in debt in an assinine attempt to impress the neighbors and the neighbor kids (see holiday decorations, below)?

C’mon…is the “Christ” now so far removed from “Christmas” that we can’t even display a little common courtesy? An iota? A smidgeon???

2) Commercialism and commercials: Fortunately, by listening to public radio most of the time and working until 11 PM, I’m not exposed to much commercial television. This was a great blessing during the recent congressional elections. It’s also a boon every Christmas holiday season.

3) Christmas Muzak: Don’t get me wrong, I like a little Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby or Peggy Lee…to a degree. But to hear them continually pumped from the day after Hallowe’en until Christmas is more than any sane human can tolerate. About the only thing worse are the champagne commercials between Christmas and the New Year. [See 2, above]

4) Holiday decorations: Even in my small apartment complex (maybe 60 or 70 units) there is this infernal competition! In the summer, it’s gardening. In the Christmas season, it’s decorations! There is a lawn to one apartment which I’m amazed hasn’t caught on fire due to the wiring.

Every year I’ve been here, it’s gotten worse. The McMansion communities have incubated their evil offspring and they've now infested my little community! Anybody have a recipe for a good, organic pest control agent?

I dunno. Maybe it’s just me, getting older. I just long for the “old days” which seemed like such simpler and happier times. Back when we cared less about impressing the neighbors and more about helping them, caring for each other. Do I really remember a time when things were better, when there was less tension and more peace or is it just a figment of my imagination or the yearning regrets of a woman who’s becoming more familiar and comfortable with the concept of her own demise?

While you’re out shopping for the holidays, consider doing an old broad a favor? Be kind to other people. Let someone out into traffic. Don’t rush to clog up the intersection. Choose not to flip off the idiot behind you who beeped. Go ahead…be that daring! It’s Christmas, for Christ’s sake!

You can flip him off again on January 2nd.

Labels: Christianity, culture, life, random numbers, snarky bitch

14 December 2006

Favorite Cartoon Characters?

I stopped by Shakespeare's Sister last night and, among other interesting things, I found this little gem. It was so much fun, I decided to do it here.

Who/what was your favorite cartoon characters when you were growing up?

Here are the ones I cited at Shakes':

Foghorn Leghorn

Ever the Southern gentleman, swooned over by all the hens in the henhouse, he's got his sights set on the widow, Miss Prissy. I especially loved his interactions with Miss Prissy's son, Egghead, Jr.

Mighty Mouse

Toon land's answer to Superman. This mouse could do anything and was always available to "save the day!" What a mouse!

And, last but not least...

Underdog!

What can I say. I had an alcoholic father so the bumbling, well-meaning "super-hero" was right up my alley. Besides, Polly was cute.

I also admit to being a closet Scooby-Doo fan. I liked Velma. I wonder why?...

(You can click on the pics to get to Don Markstein's Toonopedia page for each character.)

Labels: culture, ephemera, fun, life

11 December 2006

Sssssssexy!

Wikipedia didn't know if any other uses of this photo constitutes a copyright infringment and neither do I. I hope it doesn't because I'd hate to receive a cease and desist order for posting this little beauty:

Is that not one of the sexiest cars you've ever seen? God damn, I was meant to be a muscle car owner! That's the first Ford Falcon Cobra to roll off the production line in 1979. I do believe that was the model Mel Gibson drove in Mad Max.

Want to see what I used to own? Let me see if I can find an image...

This was the shape of my 1972 Mustang Fastback. Look at those lines...is that not just about the most sensual car you've ever seen?

Much sexier than the Mach I, which was all about guys and PERFORMANCE, BABY! Loud, rude, brutal, vulgar performance.

No, give me the sleek, smooth areodynamics of my 302, V-8 gas guzzler She probably got about 12-15 mpg but in 1975 gas was 26 cents a gallon so who cared? But she, with an automatic and a very inexperienced driver, would go from 0 to 60 in 8 seconds. Not too bad for a little "302."

This is another great shot of the ever-sultry '72 Fastback:

This was my color...isn't it a beauty? Washed and waxed every week, mag wheels cleaned, chrome buffed up with Mother's Chrome Polish. This new product, Armor All, was faithfully applied to all appropriate surfaces. She shone for a while, until I got too busy...working, being married, being a mom.

I sold her to a young man in 1982 who promptly wrapped her around a tree two weeks later, totalling the car. I was busy being a mom and nursing student and nearly full-time worker in a convenience store. I, sensibly I thought, got my husband's car in the divorce settlement...a 1981 Plymouth Champ which, by a huge margin, holds the title of Worst Lemon I Ever Owned. Karma maybe? But I got the kid and had school to think about. It was an investment. It just turned out to be a shitty one for me. That car made me swear off anything Mitsubishi-built forever.

Now, if I were transported back in time, I know just what vehicle I'd want to travel those slightly winding, high-crested backwoods roads of my youth:

The 1972 AMC Javelin. I thought this car was sexy even back then but they were rarer and, consequently, dearer. My '72 Fastback came to me for $1,200 in 1975. But I love the look of the AMC cars, yes, even the Gremlin...I dated a guy who had one. My parents had a Hornet for a number of years which served us very well. AMC also had great car names.

Who knew I was a gearhead, huh?