Independence Day

Long may she wave!!

These colors never run.

As I read the Declaration of Independence, I come to the end of the Preamble, and read this:

But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

That is my favorite part, the one quote that lies at the heart of what the Declaration means. There are some that choose to forget what this means, and there are others that fight for it, everyday.

There will come a time when we will need to throw off despotism, and provide new guards for our future security. History has taught us this: that she will repeat herself as long as ignorance abounds like putrescent mold upon the fabric of time.

Though this post is somber in thought, I hope you celebrate our country’s independence with joy, and much laughter, and while you are looking up to the heavens enjoying the fireworks, give a thought to the men and women who have sacrificed so much for our freedoms.

Samuel L. Jackson, You’re My Only Hope

Last night was a typical Friday night at Casa de Aggie. One kid had a friend over, one kid was having a chatfest on FaceBook, and the last kid was enjoying the fact that she had complete and total control of the remote. That really isn’t a big deal, since she always does. But all in all, we had a nice quiet evening.

Until Hell came to Snaketown.

This is Aro.

My Eldest’s pet snake.

She is usually found in her natural habitat of glass tank with lid.

Her turn-ons are small rodents, warm rocks, and small dark places.

Turn-offs include taking baths in cold water, glass candle holders around bathtubs, and dogs.

Mostly dogs.

Especially dogs.

As I explained, last night was a rather quiet evening. Until about 2 AM, when Eldest banged on my bedroom door and said, loudly and urgently, “MOM!! I NEED YOU!!”

Instinctively, I grabbed my gun and was about to jump out of bed, when she went on with, “I need your help! Aro is gone!!”

(Insert groggy groan here, followed by silent curses)

I told her to start looking and that I would be right out. Placing the gun away, I went out, and we began a rather fruitless search for a snake who had a six hour lead on us. The good news: neither dog had bloody fangs. The bad news: there are too many places in which a small snake can hide. So, for now, I will be cleaning up and examining corners, looking for bone pellets or shed skin.

So, who wants to come for a visit??

UPDATE!!

I took John’s advice and began to think like a snake. I found her five minutes after that, in the hallway closet, under two backpacks, one overnight bag, two scarves, a pair of snowboots (yeah, still have them from Germany), and a cloak. I also found a brand new Risk board game that the kids are playing upstairs. Son had said he had “looked” in the closet last night, so I asked him what he had seen on the floor.

Son: A pair of boots….

Me: And?

Son: I think my old backpack….

Me: And???

Son: and…..maybe something else?

Me: Suuuuuuure you looked…

Sheesh!

‘Fessing Up

They say confession is good for the soul, and this letter is about confessing something to someone. This will not be pretty.

But after 25 years, I feel it has to be done.

Dear In-Laws,

I love you to death. I do. You guys have treated me like your own daughter for over two decades. We’ve had our ups and downs, and even though life is like a roller coaster in our family, I have to confess something to y’all, and you won’t like it.

I despise Cajun food.

Dirt flavored ICK.

Ok, “despise” is a harsh term. “Loathe”  comes closer to the disgust I feel when I try to ingest Cajun food. It tastes like dirt to me. Dad always thinks he is fixing a special treat for me when he makes his famous Shrimp Gumbo. And he is, judging by the excited faces of the rest of the family as they wait, salivating for a bowl of your majikal stew. But every…single…time I have tried it, it feels like I am swallowing dirt-covered food. And I should know what dirt tastes like! In 25 years I have not been able to adapt to Cajun food, and I think it is safe to say, I never will. I’m sorry, but next time you are serving Cajun I am running to Sonic.

And don’t get me started on the Ox-Tail Soup.

Love y’all,

Me.

To a Person Who Changed My Life

I have the unique ability to imprint habits from others. Some would say that is the hallmark of a weak personality. I never claimed to have a strong one, but in my defense, all of my “imprinting” has been of good habits for the most part. The chocolate habit I got from my sister-in-law, and some would argue it’s not such a great habit.

I disagree wholeheartedly.

So many people have changed my life. But one person stands out above the others:

Dear June,

You epitomized what motherhood and feminism meant to a whole generation of women, at least until the hippie flower children found LSD. You had class, style, and grace, and I wanted to be just like you when I grew up. Really! I even begged my mother for a cheap string of dimestore pearls so I could pretend to be you while I washed the dishes.

I learned how to be a mom from my mother, but I learned to be a domestic goddess from you.

Indulgences

Ah, yes…. There are times when you are clipping coupons, and cutting unnecessary expenses, and even relying on generic brands to make ends meet. But there is always one thing….one tiny indulgence that you must keep, isn’t there??

I’m not sure if this is my antidote, or my Kryptonite. Either way, it’s a small way to feel special. Better than going totally overboard with $400 shoes or $600 dresses, right??

Pinky Promise

I have a couple of confessions to make.

I skipped a day in the challenge. The letter I skipped was to someone who was going through the worst of times. Usually I am the last to know about any drama. Most of the time I find out about it weeks after the fact. Sometimes even years!!! So, I decided to skip it due to lack of knowledge 🙂

The second confession is the letter for today. I can’t recall ever having made a pinky promise to anyone. And if I have, I must have kept it to myself so well that I will never break it.

So, if anyone remembers the pinky promise, I hope you see how trustworthy I am!!!

200th Comment!!!

And the honor goes to…..

MRFIXIT

Congratulations on this rather obscure and dubious award 😉

A Thanks for My Favorite Memory

I have a gift, and a curse. I have a great memory. It has saved me a few times, and gotten me in trouble a few times. It was a point of contention with Hubby for a long time, and a blessing to my godmother while researching our roots. Consequently, I have a lot of great and not-so-great memories. And by “a lot” I mean a lot. I can’t pick just one, so I will do my Top Ten:

10) Peeking over the caldera of Kilauea at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.

9) Having Hubby show me killdeer nesting near the apartment where we first lived.

8 ) La Piedra Escrita (The Written Stone) in my hometown in PR. Petroglyphs from long ago, including a “cowboy”!

7) Any time my sisters and I got together during holidays. Too many to mention, but one in particular stands out. We all gathered in the Jack-and-Jill bath to compare derrieres. Y’all have to admit, that’s pretty funny!

6) Watching my dad and uncles sing danzas and trios while getting ripped during the holidays. Actually, that happens whenever they get together. One time they drove to a barra a few miles away and decided to serenade the patrons. Total epicness!

5) Driving through East Texas on the way to grandmother’s house (insert song here) and having Hubby tease the kids about llamas.

4) The first time Hubby ever kissed me.

3) My first concert: “Weird Al” Yankovic, and I had the best seat in the house.

2) The births of my children. Each was different, each was special, and each I remember with love.

1) The day of my wedding. Words are such poor substitutes for the joy I relive each time I recall that day.

So there you have it. Some of my favorite memories. I hope y’all have some to share, as well 🙂

The Last Person I Kissed

To my Little One:

I don’t want you to grow. Every night that you kiss me before bed, I lament the fact that you are almost as tall as I am. I want to be able to pick up up like I used to do and tuck you in bed. Sometimes you yell at me for grabbing you as you walk past and sitting you on my lap, but that’s my way of holding on to my past, when you needed me. And now that you are growing up, my heart aches.

So, don’t be mad at me when I hug you too tight, or when I kiss you over and over again. That’s just my fear manifesting into a suffocating blanket of love. And that blanket will cover you for as long as I am on this earth, and beyond.

Love,

Your momma

Sithy Frippery

Well, today’s letter was to someone to whom I want or should give a second chance. Seeing as I give everyone and everything a second chance (yes, even menudo, both the band and the stew), I decided to do something more frivolous here.

It’s my blog and I post what I like 😀

A friend of mine happens to be addicted to shoes. And by “addicted”, I mean ADDICTED!! There is not a day that goes by without her checking out Jimmy Choo and Louboutin, and whatever shoe designer she comes across. And it had me thinking…. I quite like shoes, too. Not to the extent of paying $400 for a pair, you understand. But I do like a nice pair of heels!

And if you think I just get them for looks, think again. That heel can do some serious damage 😉