Respectful, Responsible and Considerate Neighbors...We should all try it.

Writer's Workshop #3... Neighbors.

Living in the center of 3 trailers as given me plenty of experience of various types of neighbors. I have good neighbors on one side and have had a slew of bad neighbors on the other side, that is who I will be talking about.

We have been blessed with good neighbors that are quite similar to us.
Quiet...no loud parties, no loud music, no fighting.
Considerate...I let out a scream and they are right there to see if I'm okay or like the day I ran out of gas and they took me to go get some or the day they stopped by and gave us a pecan pie (man I wish I could cook, I would love to return the kindness).
Polite...Always says Hi, talks to us across the fence but not all up in your business
Watchful...we can always count on them to watch over the place when we are gone.
They are the perfect neighbors for us.


But now to the other side.
This trailer has seen many types come and go.

A large family... lots of noise, music, fighting, drinking, honking horns, car door slamming, children squealing, teenagers sneaking out, trashy yard, a foul smell coming from their trailer (later to be identified as trash, diapers and cockroaches(the little nasty ones)).

A small family... clean, quiet, but not too friendly.

A couple...Not so clean, the lady was NEVER friendly but the guy was overly friendly, quiet but with cars coming and going all through the night, left owing the landlord lots of money and left the place trashed up.

Another small family...Unfriendly, never even cracked a smile or a wave of hello, lots of fighting, not responsible pet owners, trash all over the yard and also left owing lots of money.

Single mom with one child...Clean, quiet, but not a responsible pet owner and again another unfriendly neighbor. The only issues I had with her was when her boyfriend would come over she would send the boy outside, sometimes well into the wee hours of the night. And another one who left the inside a mess plus owing money.

Another small family... Polite but not friendly, loud music, fighting. They always had trash in the yard and got locked out for owing money.

The latest resident an single mother of two was very friendly but she had people coming and going all the time, all day and all night with music blaring, car doors slamming, just in general a whole lot of noise. Definitely NOT a responsible pet owner! (left the gate opened with a loose mastiff in their yard, that chewed up my chihuahuas when I took them for a walk on the road) She at least admitted she owed money and moved but once again left the place a mess.

I have always wondered why folks move into a place that has been cleaned and fixed up but when they move out they leave it a mess, trashed up and needing lots of repairs. I would be embarrassed to leave a place that wasn't at least close to the way I got it.

If you borrowed a chainsaw and messed up the blade, would you give it back like that or would you replace the blade first? I would soooo replace the blade!

I think we (society) have become so wrapped up in our own little universes, wants and desires, that we forget that we are not the only people our actions affect, especially when living close to our neighbors.

Being a respectful, considerate neighbor takes some of these questions or thoughts:

Is our music disturbing our neighbors?
Can the neighbors hear us fighting?
Are my children being respectful of our neighbors property? (I have had sooo many toys thrown in my yard, after awhile it gets annoying)
Is my yard an eyesore? (so many times I just keep my curtains closed cause I don't want to see the mess next door)
If I am going to throw a party this weekend, maybe I should let the neighbors know so they can be prepared or make plans to be gone.
My neighbor gets up at 4 in the morning to go to work, so maybe having a loud party in the middle of the week isn't such a good idea.
Is my pet and yard secure?
Is your pet safe from harm (getting run over or attacked) and safe from harming others who are not on your property? (Passerby's should not have to be worried that your dog is going to be loose and attack them)
A Hi, smile or wave wouldn't hurt, being nice to your neighbors CAN be a good thing.

The list could go on and on but I am tired and ready for my nap. Thankfully I don't have any loud neighbors at this time to keep me from getting a nap.

I just wish everyone who has neighbors close by would stop and think of how their lives affect their neighbors lives.

Over a cup of coffee...

Thought maybe it was time to do a Writer's Workshop post. It has been so long since I have done one, I'm a little foggy on the rules.

3.) How did your love affair with Coffee begin? (Or Diet Coke or Tea or whatever your beverage of choice might be.) (inspired by Buried With Children)

Oh boy this is right up my alley!

I've been drinking coffee all my life. That is not just a saying, I'm for real...all my life.

According to my dad I was getting coffee in my bottle, getting coffee from my grandpie and even stealing sips whenever I could. I recall dad and I going to a restaurant in downtown Bangor (I was about 6) and as soon as we were seated this woman (the same woman every time) would hold up two cups, one blue with Jesus holding a child and one pink with Jesus sitting with a group of kids surrounding him. She would ask "which one do you feel like today"? It was the highlight of my day to sit and drink coffee with my dad. That was the beginning of my love for coffee cause it was associated with the happiest times with dad.

Those days dwindled quite a bit when dad got remarried and started having more children but we still had our coffee times in the kitchen. After the move to Texas I wasn't in the mood to hang out with dad and dad was working and going to school, so coffee time was left in the dust.

We picked it back up in my teens with "lets walk up to Jack-in-the-box for coffee". I would get so excited for time alone with dad. One on one time over a cup of coffee, can't get better than that! Some of my most precious memories of me and dad were over coffee.

Even now if dad is coming over a pot of coffee is made and vise versa. Matter of a fact every time I visit someone a pot of coffee gets made. I have some how turned a cup of coffee a must when taking time to visit with someone.

Conversation just needs a good cup of coffee to go with it.

Writer's Workshop: Favorite Actors from my Childhood, Plus One I Adore!

I chose writing prompt #1..What actors from childhood do you think about?

When I was a kid my favorite actors were:

First and forever there was Michael Landon:
Little Joe Cartwright in Bonanza
Pa-Charles Ingalls in Little House on the Prairie(I soo wanted him to be my daddy)
Jonathan Smith in Highway to Heaven
Then there was Lorne Greene:
Ben Cartwright in Bonanza
Adama in Battlestar Galactica
And of course there was Victor French:
Isaiah Edwards in Little House on the Prairie
Mark Gordon in Highway to Heaven
I can't forget Parker Stevenson:
Frank Hardy in The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries
Craig Pomeroy in Baywatch
Now we get to the man that makes me catch my breathe everytime I hear him speak. The most amazing Sam Elliot:
Gar in Mask
Wade Garrett in Roadhouse
I'm thinking..Wild Bill Hickcock in Buffalo Girls
Virgil Earp in Tombstone
Just to name a few, cause there are soo many more movies he was in that where great.
Ohhhh yeeeaaahhhhhhh!!!!
Excuse me...Brain overload

Hope that was fun for yall!

First Memorable Sunburn

Searching through the last few writing prompts from the Writer's Workshop, looking for something to activate my brain.

"It was a bad burn. Tell about the worst sunburn you ever received. How did that happen!?!"

Well this one could work but I'm going to change it a little. I'm going to tell you of the first sunburn I remember getting.

I was 11 years old and we were having a yard sale. We were preparing for our journey across the world. (Well that is how it felt at the time!) We was headed to the wasteland of Texas. From what I had see in the westerns on the tv, it was a land of desert with no trees and mirages of water. I was scared, worried and very much in protest, not just in words but in actions too.

I was told that I had to down size all my belonging to ONE small suitcase. We was selling everything for money for the trip. I mean everything, from clothes to toys to beds. I trudged around in a sour face at every purchase that was made of my things. It was bad enough that I was being taken from my friends, grandparents and even my cat, but to have to watch these strangers walk off with my treasured toys was unbearable. Everything that I forced into my suitcase was at least safe.

I was dressed in a girls undershirt and a skirt. For those of you who have no clue what a girls undershirt is Except mine had lace around the edging, with a little bow at the neckline. Not much different than today's regular shirts.

My dad was yelling at me to go get a shirt on and I was being all rebellious and refused. (What it really was.. I didn't want to let my parents see what I was keeping in fear that they would decided I had to get rid of it.) I guess he got tired of fighting with me, cause I wore that undershirt all day with nothing else on top of it.

The next morning when I woke up my skin was tight and when I tried to move the pain crept in. Yup I had a sunburn on my arms, shoulders, neck and face. I was scared and yet fascinated. I keep remembering me standing in front of the mirror checking it out and touching it, watching the flesh go from red to white and back to red with each touch.

Of course my mothers cure for all things was Epsom salt and Calamine Lotion. So after soaking in a bath of grainy salt, I was lathered up in pink! I was not a pink kinda girl, so you can imagine the horror!

Guess I should have listened to my dads yelling and went and put a shirt on! LOL!

Little did I know, I was moving to the kingdom of many many sunburns!

Writer's Workshop: Boysitting

This week I choose prompt #5, A memorable babysitting job.


Waaaay back when I was 17-18...

I was married and my husband at the time (NOT my current hubby) had been transferred to a different store in a different town. The commute was long and the graveyard shift was dull and boring. I went along to help keep him awake. A local woman was looking for a babysitter for her 6 boys, ranging in ages of 6 to 12. The job came with a place to stay on their property and it was just blocks from the husbands work. Her husband was a truck driver and she wanted to go with him to help earn extra money.

I was extremely scared to take the job. I mean we are talking BOYS and being responsible for all of them 24/7 was a huge thing to consider. My husband was all for it cause of the location and housing and apparently men are not intimidated by a group of boys. In the end we accepted the job.

She took me through the tour of her house and showed me the ropes of money, chores, food and schedules. In two days of getting to know the boys and there routines the "Parents" were gone. I say "Parents" cause I still felt like a child in soo many aspects, I was instantly terrified! Thankfully the husband was there to enforce the authority and the boys were very kind and on their best behaviors.

What made it memorable other than the boys, that should be memorable enough, RIGHT? Well a few things stand out.

The mother helped me get my drivers license that first weekend they came home, so I could use their van to take the kids places and so she wouldn't have to come home as often. On another weekend they purchased a one ton flatbed pick-up, I got taught how to drive it. That was very intimidating but yet thrilling and powerful too. I always manage to remember her when ever I get my license renewed or look at my birth certificate that she sent away for.

I was exposed to a new religion. Mormon. They weren't the type of Mormons you hear about, they didn't have a harem of wives and kids. They were like the Brady Bunch, him and his kids, her and her kids, makes for one crazy house! I slightly took an interest in their religion till I got to the levels of heaven.

My Grandfather died on my 18th birthday and I went back to Maine for the funeral and to say goodbye to my parents who were staying in Maine. My baby brother bawled his head off and begged me to put him in my suitcase and bring him back with me. The tears flowed for many reasons that week. My husband came up the next day and we left together. At the change over in New York, the husband got his wallet stolen.

I was exposed to the lovely quality of organizing. With six boys, the mother came up with a system for her children. Each child had his own color. This color was on everything that belonged to that child. In the toes of their socks was a loop of that color thread, it was also found on the tags of their clothing, in the waistline of the undergarments. They had their own set of dishes in that color, of which they were responsible for washing. Even their towels were of their own color. There was no confusion of who's stuff belonged to who and blessedly no fighting over things. I found this system to be amazing. She had a chore chart that had that child's color on it for what chores they were to do for that day. When the child did said chores they got a popsicle stick that had been mark with their color and at the end of the week they turned them in for a quarter apiece for their allowance. I also learned the importance of financial organizing.

I took the kids to the city pool for some fun, a good time had been had by all and we stayed till they closed. We got back to the house and all the kids lumbered out of the van and into the house. I let them leave their stuff in the van with the strict instructions to retrieve it in the morning. The next morning we was rushing around getting ready for school and I sent one of them to go get all of their shoes out of the van. The boy rushes back into the house and yells that the van is GONE!
The whole herd went out the door to confirm this. I called the police, the school and then the parents. Come to find out it was a repo. I had experienced my first repo! I'll tell ya though, walking out in the driveway and that van being gone was a moment I will never forget!

I guess the mother felt it was too much hassle to try to keep up with the financial things at home and being out on the road, so she came home. We stayed another two weeks and then moved on.

All of my time with them was an experience that will always be remembered.

Now go visit Mama Kat to join in or just read some more posts.

Writer's Workshop: Where do I live?

This week I decided to go with prompt #2...Where do I Live?
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Right here in this little bubble I call life. Oh, maybe you would like more info than just that.

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I live on a county road, in a county that is ate up with county roads. Matter of a fact I live on the county line and just down the road is another county line. The area is referred to as tri-county. Living on the county line is not that good, cause when it comes to road maintenance (that we need really bad) there is lots of confusion as to who is responsible. Quibble-Quabble..
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I live on a T, I can see the stop sign from my kitchen window(at an angle). My view is not great. I have a trailer on both sides of me, they are the bread and I am the peanut butter. The tail end of my trailer faces the road. If only I could turn this sucker around and have it facing the beautiful field behind us or even having it face the road and the field on the other side, but nooo my view are my neighbors. If only I could get my genie powers to work.
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I am surrounded by three small towns that are full of undiscovered history, one 4 miles to the east, one 5 miles south and one 7 miles north. Big bad ass San Antonio is 25 miles just to the outer loop. Thankfully the small towns have most all the stores I need to go to. Dollar this and dollar that, grocery store, hardware store (good for a few things), thrift store, flea market and finally a brand new auto parts store.
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I live in the country. Drive down the road for a mile in any direction and it opens up to fields of corn, cotton, maize, hay or just gobs of wildflowers. Pastures that have peacocks, goats, mules, horses or cows. There are also the many many groves of pecan (pe-caun or pe-can, say it as you will.) trees. I am truly falling for this area, it has been taking a while for me to get used to, but it's getting better the more I venture out and explore.

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I live in Texas! The big country. Big skies, big land and big longhorns!


And lets not forget the cotton and oil.

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For more great writing or to join in..go see Mama Kat.

Writers Workshop: Cancer and the strongest women in my life.

2.) Over at SITS we’re hosting a week long Back2Blogging event that will end with someone taking home a brand new washer and dryer from Electrolux. Since September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month and Electrolux is working to promote awareness and early detection, I’ll be writing about a survivor or supporter that inspires me at SITS on Thursday. That was a long way of saying, Describe a woman who inspired YOU.

That was Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop prompt #2.

I find this so interesting cause I have had so many super good friends that have gone through or is going through some type of cancer right now.

Becky...she has been/is my bff for the last 15 or so years. Nearly five years ago she threw her back out and the pain was so severe she was begging to go to the hospital. She is the type of woman that has to be practically in death mode to WANT to go to the hospital. We all knew it had to be real bad. She had the back surgery and was doing just fine till they ordered her to get her female tests done. You know the pap and the mammo. The results floored us. Breast cancer.

Becky has always been strong, says whats on her mind and will get in your face if need be. I guess the best words to describe her is scrappy with a heart of gold as long as you don't cross her. We were not instant best friends, actually when I first meet her I was scared of her. BUT as time passed and with our hubby's being best buds, we found ourselves in the most fabulous friendship.

The wounds of losing a good friend to breast cancer just a few years prior, resurfaced to a whole new level when the results came in. Needless to say we were both pretty scared. I felt so helpless.

Becky's hubby has had his own ongoing medical issues with Burgess disease; he has had to have both legs amputated. Just a few months before this she lost her mother, whom she had been caring for for years in her home.

She was the one who took care of people, to conceive that she was sick herself was shocking. Of course the news of her cancer broke her down, but then out of no where she adopted this attitude (like someone had crossed her) and the fight was on!

So we (Her and I)went to dr's appointments and radiation and through the Cemo process. It was a new experience for both of us and it was hard for me to watch this fighting woman get hit in the gut every week, with no end in sight. I couldn't even jump in the ring to help her fight off her offenders. As hard as it was, I knew it wasn't even a smidgen of what she was going through.

I went to her house nearly everyday to play Yatzee, if she was too sick then I would just sit in the arm chair while she stayed laying on the couch. We would watch the soaps together and I sometimes I would bring her things from the store. There were the few times that I was told not to come over cause she was super sick. It was a dignity thing. I had seen her through just about everything, but she would never be able to get over it, if I ever saw her that weak. I know this about her and complied with her wishes.

One thing that she says now in retrospect that just resounds in my ears...I am not grateful that my mother died, but yet I am grateful I didn't get the diagnoses till after she had passed. For surely I would never had been able to care for her in my state.

There is just something so humbling in that statement that shows her true character, no matter what kind of front she puts on.
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Dianne.. Hubby and I used to truck with her and her hubby. Her hubby had a heart attack while we were headed back to Texas and shortly after, we drove their truck for them. We've been friends with them for at least as long as Becky and I have been friends. Her and Becky are two of a kind, the same definition of character could be said about Dianne also..Scrappy with heart.

This past year has been super hard on her. Her hubby has been in the hospital since Christmas of last year and suffered many strokes and has had a heart pump put in. He also contacted the Mrsa virus while in the hospital. He is currently in a facility cause his care is too tecnical for just anyone to deal with. That heart pump is apperently pretty complicated.

Unfortunatly, I haven't been involved in her ordeal except through phone conversations. She went to the emergency room for a cold that had gotten worse and worse, her daughter insisted. After all the tests, it was determined that she had lung cancer. She is currently going through the treatments, but not all is going well. She has since had Pneumonia, Pluralise and all other lung related issues.

Due to her hubby's diagnoses of the Mrsa virus, she is not allowed to see him becuase of he comprimised immune system. That is extremely tough on her! These two lovebirds in their golden years, apart... is almost unthinkable.

BUT even through all off this.. she is still the fighting, scrappy, I'm going to kick this cancer's ass, kind of woman!
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I love these women and the are my inspiration! If and when my day comes, I can only hope to be half as strong as these two are. They are forces to be reckoned with and I am proud to call them my friends! Cancer picked the wrong ladies this time!

Now go visit Mama Kat and SITS

Writing Prompts Trouble

Soo...I'm sure you all have heard of writing prompts such as Writer's Workshop (hosted by Mama's Losin It) and The Spin Cycle (hosted by Sprite's Keeper). I know I haven't participated in awhile. Well actually that really isn't true, I have participated but nothing seems good enough or coherent enough to publish.

This last week for example. The prompt I chose from the Writer's Workshop was #3.

3.) "It was as if an invisible thread hooked her to her boy. The thread could go taut or slack but it could never come undone, it could never reach the end of its spool because there was no end; it bound them forever." What does unconditional love mean to you?(inspired when a mother is forced to give her baby up in The Seamstress by Frances De Pontas Peebles)

What does unconditional love mean to you?

I received this on Monday and it took me all day to figure out which prompt i was going to try. It was due to be turned in by Thursday! I wrote and rewrote it, struggled with it, called my mother about it. Discussed it with friends and hubby and got nowhere. Thought about changing the direction of the content and even maybe from a different viewpoint, nothing, it was a mess.

My mother and bf said I need to scrap the idea of writing it cause I am too hardcore and haven't experienced it, to know anything about it. I tried to disagree but two against one is never good.

Final consensus on Unconditional Love is that it is something that only exists with a parent to their child and even sometimes that isn't true. I never received that kind of love from my birth mother and longed for it for way too long. I also never had any children therefore I know nothing about that side of it. Soo, long story short I have no business trying my hand at something I am clueless about, so I missed the deadline.

Then there is this weeks Spin Cycle. Prompt is Respect.

Aye, aye, aye. Once again I turned to all the usual folks to give me their take on the subject, anything that might trigger a memory or create something in this (what seems like) dead brain. The only thing I was left with is just how different folks perceive respect to be.

I find it a little funny that this word came up cause it has to be one of the most difficult words for me. What is respect? How do you even define it? The word itself as been used many many times throughout my life and every time I question it, I get all different types of answers. My mom throws it around as a warning to straighten up or back down. Aretha uses it as a "no appreciation".

When I was young I thought I pretty much knew what was expected of me as far as showing respect, but after one particular boyfriend I suddenly was in a whole new world of what respect meant and felt clueless.

Heck I'm not really sure I have ever been shown "respect" cause I probably wouldn't recognize it if I had. I know there is the whole Ma'am and Sir thing, which I totally hate by the way! (when it is thrown MY way)

So, my friends I will bore you no further on my inability to comprehend either of these subjects, other than to say...my take on it all...

Unconditional love comes from the respect you have built through a substantial bond and/or relationship.

AND yeah that probably doesn't make any sense to most, but for some reason it does to me.

I am a contradictory person. LOL!

Writer's Workshop: Two Peas in a Pod

For this week I chose #2) I miss the friend you used to be.

When I come back from running away, I soon realized that all my friends had moved on and didn't really want anything to do with me. About six months later.. My mother said she had someone she wanted me to meet, a girl she thought I might like to be friends with. On the walk over to this girls house, mom reveals that this girl is 15.

Now first you have to imagine my state of mind. Mom is trying to set up my friendships! What the heck? Am I that desperate and pathetic? AND seriously a 15yr old, she's two years younger than me! What could I possibly have in common with a child? BUT because I had just returned to the family and trying my hardest to not create more waves than there already were, I went along with it.

From the moment we meet and ate Ramen noodles together we were like...
Two peas in a pod, joined at the hip, sisters separated from birth, instant best friends.

We went through all sorts of things together...
Poverty for starters, parties, dating and living together.
Exchanging boyfriends, engagements and eventually my marriage.
Break-ups and reconciliations.
Her babies, my infertility issues and emotions.
Her marriage and dealing with infidelity.
Divorce's.
You name it and we probably did it or went through it, in the seven years we were together. Seven years..doesn't really seem like it was a long time, but it was right at the highlight of our lives. Just when we were getting our chance for life to start, free to make our own decisions. BOY, did we make some whopper decisions!

Every time my marriage broke up (which was five times), Naturally I moved in with her and her mother. We were so close, people thought there was something hinky going on. Which we thought was funny!

Then the day came when I ran off with a stranger (current hubby), things were never the same from then on. I would visit her, she would visit me, but it was getting difficult to hold on to the friendship. I had found my root and she was still a branch in the wind. I was set it one place and she and her mother and growing amount of children were moving constantly. When I left our hometown she had two children, the last time I saw her she was about to have her fourth any day.

Shortly after that last visit she moved again and I haven't heard from her since. That was nearly 17 years ago.

There are many a times, I sit back and think on those days and I guess you could say morn the loss of who we were and the wonderful friendship we shared.
I miss the friend she used to be.
Two peas in a pod.


For more Writer's Workshop visit Mama Kat's

Writer's Workshop: Motorcycles and Us

This weeks prompts are:
1.) It was a bad burn.
2.) Write a poem for your furry friend.
3.) Describe a memorable camping trip.
4.) It happened on a motorcycle.
5.) Post a vlog that shows you playing with your kids.

I choose #4.

For me the question ought to be..What didn't happen on a motorcycle? LOL! BUT instead of pinpointing something that happened on a motorcycle, I'm just going to talk about our motorcycle history.

Hubby and I only had a Honda Goldwing motorcycle for transportation for nearly a year. Every where we went was on a motorcycle. Hubby road it to work every day, through the rain, sleet, snow, icy roads and every bug invasion you can think off. We took it to do the laundry. Hubby had an large army bag that we stuffed to the top and he would drape it across the back seat. We even did the grocery shopping with it. Fortunately it had a trunk and two saddle bags, but it still limited us to shopping by the week.
Hubby loved that bike and wasn't scared to show off on it.


There were times when I didn't like not having any way to get anywhere. With hubby taking the only bike to work, I was stuck at home all day. The only time I left the house was on sunday to go do all of our chores for the week (funny how we have come full circle, only this time we only have one truck and I am down to doing our errands on sunday again). Soo hubby came across a great deal and got this other Honda, he was thinking it would be great for me to go to the store with or to a friends house. Only problem with that idea was that I am inept at learning to drive a motorcycle without hubby trying to pull his hair out. I really liked his hair, so it turned into his little show piece.

He loved this bike even more than his Goldwing and even had the nerve to bring it in the house. I protested but lost. I won, when he tried to kill us by starting it in the house and letting it idle. The house was little and the exhaust built up pretty quickly.

I did love to ride, there truly isn't any other thrill like it.

It also had it's drawbacks. First of all check out that hair. Going down the road, little wisps of his hair would come loose or even his braids all together would sting or slap me in the face.

There was the laying the bike over in the sand and me landing on my feet (very lucky).
Helmets clashing, cause I was trying to use his neck as a warming device.
Numb tush.
Aching back.
Sunburned/windblown cheeks and forehead, the long term effect..Leather face.
Hair in a constant state of tangles.
AND THEN...
Losing control and wiping out; breaking his collarbone, getting road rash, busting the windshield, tearing off a saddle bag, having skin missing from his arm and a long recovery.
Turns the happy biker into an unhappy camper.

BUT before that happened...
There were plenty of great trips and bike runs. Meeting up with other bikers and hitting the road was awesome. The freedom of it all is very addicting.
We toured the hill country, went to Canyon Lake. Hung out with some of the greatest people and some we wish we could forget. We went on a bike run to Luckenbach Texas and camped out for the weekend. We also went to the Dinosaur Tracks for the day.

Plus many many more great places and with great friends. Friends we still have today, even though we have all scattered to the winds.
I must say this little post has made me very nostalgic and makes me miss all the crazy adventure we had. We were quite wild back in the day!

Now for more Writer's Workshop post, click on the button and head on over to Mama Kats place.

Writer's Workshop: Our wedding song

Hubby and I had our wedding in the park, a low budget affair with not a whole lot of bells and whistles, more like a Sunday bbq where everyone is dressed up.

My mother was the ring leader and I was the 2nd in command. I’m sure your thinking it should have been the other way around, but I really needed someone else to be in control. I did get all things approved by me first and mom was great as long as I kept her in check or she would have went crazy and had me wear a tiara or some other crazy thing like that.

In the plans for the wedding in the park, my mother was to bring a music cd that she had of some real soft classical music. I was supposed to go through the cd to determine which song was going to be used. This was supposed to have happened earlier in the day while everything was getting set up.

As you all know preparing for a wedding is brain frying work and the bride has enough on her plate as is, these little things tend to get lost or forgotten in the frenzy.

Needless to say I never saw the cd or listened to it. As I sit here now, I have no clue what happened to it. I had made arrangements with my BIL to bring his Cher cd for some lively music afterwards, you know while everyone was eating. The main song on that cd that I was most interested in was “It’s in his kiss”, it was one of the songs that was playing on the oldies channel on the radio (well the older version of course), that day hubby and I went for that ride together, the day we meet. In case you missed that post, you can read it here. Although we hadn’t kissed yet, the song lingered in the air that night. Leaving that song with special meaning for me.

Dad and I were all ready to walk down between the chairs to the canopy my mother had pain stakinly labored over. The music was que’d and the boom box was started. I was expecting some unknown soft song that mom had rushed to make a decision on.

Yup you guessed it! Dad and I walked down the isle to the bebop song of “It’s in his kiss”! The small group of family and friends, grinned, laughed and looked puzzling to each other.

I could see mom jump out of her seat to correct the matter, but the mystery cd was not right there and well it was too late now. Dad was up and out of his wheelchair and already walking. She sat back down almost as quickly as she had gotten up; she was mouthing “Sorry” to me.

I could have cared less cause I was already laughing and could see hubby was too!!



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