Turkey sat at the head of the beautifully-decorated table. He paused for a moment and smiled at everyone seated with him.
Then he reached out and joined hands with the Stuffing who in turn picked up Deviled Eggs hand who then clasped hands with Mashed Potatoes (whose new little one Gravy slept pressed against her chest).
Since Mashed Potatoes had her other hand full, her wife Green Bean Casserole picked up hands with Dinner Roll who reached out and picked up Weird Jello Salad’s hand who smiled and joined hands with her new husband, Relish Tray, who then picked up Old Man Pumpkin Pie’s hand who then gave a kiss to his wife of 50 years, Cool Whip, as he took her sweet soft wrinkled hand.
Grandma Cool Whip then closed the circle as she joined hands with Turkey.
They said their prayer to Mother Earth, thanking her for the bountiful blessings in their lives including this day that they were sharing together.
Then they looked at the loaded table which held massive amounts of sushi, Dominos pizza, ice cream, cotton candy and doughnuts.
And they ate.
Til their stomachs were stretched and uncomfortable and they needed Turkey to go out to Walgreens to get some Tums.
The Rockefeller Christmas tree stood tall in the lights of the big city in the middle of a cold night.
Sore from having branches added to his body and lights wrapped around him and a huge-ass electric star planted on his head, he had read the news stories about how everyone was making fun of him because he didn’t look superstar perfect.
“I’m a damn tree,” he thought to himself as a cool wind curled through him trying to offer a bit of comfort. “Nature doesn’t screw with what it looks like. We’re perfect as is. Only the human douchebags work so hard to change themselves so they’ll look perfect…whatever perfect looks like.”
He sighed and looked up to see the stars.
He couldn’t see a single one. Not even the Swarovski one on top of his head.
He instantly felt homesick for his forest.
“I don’t want to die here,” Tree thought.
A few seconds ticked by as he listened to the wind. Something clicked inside.
“I’m gonna get out of here,” he decided.
He began to tremble and shake his trunk and branches as hard as he could, managing to shimmy off the spikes and break the giant wires that had held him prisoner.
Passersby froze in their tracks at the sight of the tree making a break for it.
They started shouting for him to come back as he bounced as fast as he could on his trunk down the street like a coniferous pogo stick.
The people began to chase him.
Panicked, he bounced faster, needles and cones and lights and his man-made star falling off. His heart raced as he sweated sap, trying his very best.
As the frenzied crowd began to catch up, he felt himself growing tired. How was an old ginormous spruce ever going to make it out of this place? By then, police and fire engine sirens pierced his ears and obscured his vision. Local news helicopters flew in circles overhead. People on the street surrounded him, jumping to grab and restrain him.
Tree was exhausted and broken. His strength was all but gone. For being such an imperfect tree, the humans sure didn’t want him to go. He was undoubtedly going to be taken right back to the stage he had been chained to and mocked from.
Tears sprang to his eyes as he looked back up to see if he could see the stars just one last time.
And what he saw when he did, he couldn’t believe.
Flying toward him as fast as he could was the baby saw-whet owl who stowed away inside him on their fateful journey to The Big Apple. Following behind were hundreds of birds who broke out of the Ravensworth Wildlife Center for the night, just to help Baby Owl rescue his friend.
“Whoooo!! Whooo!” Baby Owl hooted as he held his wings out wide and lowered his talons to grab and lift Tree into the air.
“Baby Owl!!” Tree cried, pogo-sticking mightily with all he had left.
And all the other birds grabbed on to his tired branches and lifted Tree into the sky, rising high above the city.
The humans stood speechless as they watched them float above the buildings, then zoom away into the night.
The cool wind changed direction to help with the getaway.
Tree cried happy tears as Baby Owl nuzzled his needles once again.
“Thank you, Baby Owl,” said Tree.
“Whooo. Whooo!” Baby Owl hooted back.
Then they made like bats out of hell.
As Tree enjoyed the peaceful flight, he felt his tension drift away. Tree glanced at the sky again.
God sat in his chair at the helm of his spaceship. In front of him, through the window, not too far away, sat Earth. But he took no notice of the planet, for he was immersed in a game of Scrabble on his phone. His friend Ganesh was kicking his ass once again.
“Where’s Satan?” Ganesh texted.
“No idea,” God texted back. “Probably having a way more exotic evening than we are.”
Just then, the door to his office opened. God began to shuffle from his slouched position deep in his chair, but his old bones slowed the process. Besides, his visitor was already upon him.
The Goddess bent over next to him, her lean and attractive body brushing against his just a little. Her long black curly hair fell in a gorgeous drape as she cocked her head to look at him sideways as he slumped in his chair.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” she said back.
He sat up and looked at what she was doing to his control board.
“What are you…” he began, but her perfect black-polished fingertip was already on the “Winter Off” button for the northern hemisphere.
She clicked it “On”. Then she stood back up.
He twisted in his chair and took a good look at his gorgeous wife. She was all dolled up, wearing a denim miniskirt, black platform boots and a cut up Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
“I don’t know what the hell you’ve been doing up here,” she said. “but if I have to take one more call from Ohio about how damn cold it is there for May, I’m going to flip my shit.”
She was so pretty, and she was so irritated.
He was guilty. He knew it.
“I’m sorry, babe.”
She rolled her eyes and tapped her foot like she was still mad.
“You look gorgeous,” he told his girl. “Why are you all done up? What are you getting into?”
“John Bonham is playing in town tonight. I told you this. Satan bought us tickets months ago.”
Ohhhh. Now he remembered. His best friend and his wife had bonded over a love for Zeppelin way back when the band first exploded on the scene on Earth. Of course…that show was tonight.
“Ganesh and I were wondering where Satan was.”
“Ha”, she said, smiling slightly. “Well, that man actually likes to get out of his chair and off his phone every now and then. You know…live a little.”
Just then they heard the giant roar of an engine and the song Moby Dick blasting at a million decibels outside.
God looked out the window.
Satan was standing there, next to his bad-ass shiny black 1977 Corvette Stingray with the fire lick painted detail on the car’s sides. He was dragging on a cigarette with one hand and flipping his old buddy the bird with the other.
“Your date is here.”
The Goddess gave her husband a quick peck on the lips then went for the door.
“Don’t wait up for me,” she called out.
“All right, baby,” he said. “Tell Bonzo I said hi. Love you!”
God looked out his giant window again and watched as his wife and Satan stood with their arms around each other posing for a selfie. Then she climbed into the passenger seat and he shut the door. The Dark Lord turned back to God one more time, threw up devil horns to his buddy, got in his car, then they flew off like two bats out of hell.
God sighed and slumped back into his chair.
Ganesh had texted, “Where’d you go?”
The creator of the universe looked down at his tiles. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
He clicked them up and laid them down, one by one.
Earth woke up and rolled on to her back and then stayed still long enough to listen to her birds singing for awhile.
Today was a special day…the one that the humans designated to honor her for a full 24 hours.
She turned a jade and ocean cheek toward the sun and listened even harder.
Her humans were so quiet lately.
She knew they were struggling with the odd viral visitor who was making the rounds introducing himself to the neighborhood.
For a moment, she felt bad. The people were shitting themselves, trying to figure it all out.
They’d get it eventually, she promised herself. They’d gotten so smart over the years, despite how badly they treated each other sometimes.
Earth took a big deep breath and covered her backside with her soft black starry night.
The animals and plants and bugs and viruses and bacteria and fungi celebrated her properly every day, not just April 22nd.
“Smarter than the humans,” she whispered to herself as she started to close her eyes again, figuring she might fall back to sleep for just a little while.
Suddenly, she heard a soft creak and turned to see that handsome devil Saturn looking down at her with a sleepy crooked smile on his face.
“Hi there, beautiful,” he said. “Happy Earth Day.”
He held up her favorite mug piping with hot coffee in one ring and a giant chocolate chip cookie in another.
Earth smiled as she sat up, totally surprised to see him and definitely ready to enjoy a delicious breakfast in bed.
“You’re so sweet, Saturn,” she said.
He kissed her lightly on the North Pole. Then he took a seat next to her.
“So what are you going to do for your special day?” he asked, watching her stuff the cookie in her mouth.
She had chocolate chip smeared on her bottom lip. He thought for a moment about kissing it off.
“Same old stuff,” she replied. “Rotate on my axis, do some continental drifting. I’ll check in on my humans too.”
“How are they holding up?”
“Not great. The virus is freaking them out really bad. And…”
Saturn looked at her.
“Well,” Earth continued. “They’re currently really flipping their shit because you’re so close to me. You’re usually viewed best with help from a telescope at night. Now you’re, like, right outside their windows. They’ve been screaming non-stop ever since you got here.”
Saturn hadn’t considered that. All he wanted to do was surprise his ethereal new lady love with a tasty morning treat on Earth Day. He stood up.
“I should get on back to my orbit,” he said, giving her that crooked smile again.
Earth looked up at him with her awe-inspiring majesty.
“Stay,” she said, reaching for him.
He sat down again.
“You don’t mind me scaring the humans?”
Earth paused and felt the vibrations from all life on her freaking the hell out.
“What’s one more thing?” she asked.
Then she kissed him.
And he thought to himself that she tasted like chocolatey planetary perfection.
I thought I had writer’s block before the government mandated stay at home order. I’m really in a funk with it now. This whole situation blows so hard.
Does anyone else’s body feel weak and achy really bad these days?
I find myself wanting to write since it seems like the perfect time to do so, and writing has been something I’ve always considered fun, but I don’t even know what to say anymore.
This affliction is all in my mind, I know. It’s like when you want to exercise but feel like you can’t bring yourself to just do it. Once the workout shoes are on and you get going, you do it. I always feel better after I move my ass and exercise. I know I would feel better if I just forced myself to write again.
But goddamn, am I sad. And I’m scared. I’ve never been scared really in my whole life. I mean, I was scared after 9/11, but after the tragedies, when everyone pulled together, I felt hopeful again. This time around, I’m just overwhelmed. You could say I’m almost paralyzed. Every single thing I do anymore I have to force myself to do.
Are we all feeling like this?
I go between feeling depressed and scared and freaked out and then sometimes I just feel defeated and ready to accept whatever comes my way.
As long as it isn’t that someone in my family gets sick.
Life now is like a scary as fuck roller coaster and we are all in the fucking front row seat.
See? I’m writing this and I hate what I am writing. I feel like this is a waste of time sitting here doing this. But I’ll keep on going…
Here’s something I wonder about:
What is it with people who are making lemonade out of this ginormous global lemon? Are these people really enjoying this moment in time, or are they forcing themselves not to go mad by being productive and positive as fuck and telling everyone about it? I have a theory that the people who appear carefree and all busy are actually the people who are the closest to really losing their marbles. Why do I wish I could be more like them?
I guess now isn’t the time for me to judge what other people are doing to hang in there. Even though their sunshiney demeanors make me want to smack them kinda.
Here’s some good news. Our new kitten Ghostly-ghost turned 1 yesterday. She sure is a sweet addition to our home. Our other cat, Dali, has come to terms with her being here and they really bring happiness into our home, even now. I couldn’t get out to buy Ghost a birthday prize, but she did enjoy a trip on some catnip and lots of playtime. I think that made her happy which is good because she makes us happy.
She’s the kitty featured here on my blog cover page, standing up in her favorite tower, looking for birds in the vines that grow all over our house.
Here’s another picture of Ghost looking quite adorable right after we woke up one day last November. I love this picture:
Another good thing amidst all the epic shit is that our son and daughter-in-law are in the process of buying their first home.
Audra has been looking for the perfect place for months and I have enjoyed being consulted throughout the hunt. They have looked at bunches of homes, and have found a few they liked a lot only to lose out to other buyers.
That all changed two weeks ago with the appearance of a sweet and magical pale yellow abode with a kick-ass interior and a backyard not to be believed. It’s in an old school neighborhood of our city and I want you to know–I do believe it is the perfect home for them. They think so too, and guess what? They’re in contract and everything is moving ahead.
The other day when my husband and I were eating lunch together and discussing the house, we brought up an Italian restaurant my family has loved since I was a little girl located just a minute away from their new home. This place holds a lot of sentimental value for us. We had my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary dinner there. We also had them cater my parents’ and brother-in-law’s funeral dinners. Bill and I also talked about a bakery nearby, also a place I went to as a little girl. I got a lot of my birthday cakes there. I distinctly remember holding my dad’s hand in that bakery while taking a number for service as a giant fan cooled the place.
I told Bill–maybe our kids will have kids?!
And we can take those kids to TAT (the restaurant) and Resch’s (the bakery). I told Bill–they can look in the display cases and I can buy them cookies or doughnuts!
Bill said I can have them grab the number tickets before we stand in line.
My heart literally quivered with joy over the mere thought of it.
I realize I am way ahead of where the kids are now and truthfully I am just thrilled for them to be happy. That’s what I really want.
I would also really really really really like to help them move when the day comes and drink a glass of celebratory wine with them after on their new patio. Oh, and hug the living hell out of both of them because I miss them so much.
There is some good news left in this world gone crazy, I guess.
And lookie here…I have written quite a bit on this blog, haven’t I.
I don’t know if anyone else will find what I’ve written particularly interesting, but that’s not why I am writing for in the first place, is it.
If you read this, thank you.
I hope you’re safe and healthy and holding on.
Baby, hold on to me…whatever will be will be…
Fuck it, let’s listen to some Eddie Money, shall we? Or as my good friend Linda and I call him–
September pulled April into his arms and brushed the starlings from her rat’s nest of long golden hair.
She looked into his eyes which burned like a bonfire from a Friday night football rally.
“I don’t care what everyone says,” she cried pressing her cheek against his brown suede criss-cross laced-up kinda Jim Morrisony shirt covered chest. “I don’t want you to leave. I’ll just be rainy and cold. People will just have to get over never knowing how to dress for any of my 30 days.”
September winced. Her promise to have him stay thrilled him, but he knew the repercussions were too steep for the general population.
“April,” he soothed. “April, I must go. I love you, you know it’s true, but you have to go and make peace with my archenemy May so that warm dry weather becomes the law of the land.”
April knew he was right, and even though she hated that stupid son-of-a-bitch May, she had signed a contract that bound her to working with him towards preparing for world famous Hollywood tycoon Summer’s eventual takeover.
“Will you call me?” she asked, tiny blue forget-me-not tears falling from her eyes.
“Of course I’m going to call you. You’ll get sick of me calling you. You’ll be like, I am so sick of September calling me, I wish his phone would fall into the toilet and stop working and he doesn’t have an upgrade any time soon so he can’t get a new phone to call me sick of me calling you.”
“You could always just borrow a phone or buy another one like on eBay or something,” she told him.
September smiled. April smiled back.
Then he bent to kiss her and it was like a giant mashing together of toasted marshmallows and Easter Peeps. Sticky. Sweet. Messy.
When they pulled apart, strands of moist marshmallow hung between them like a gooey bridge.
September wiped it away with the back of his hand and dragged the residue across his jeans.
He winked at her then picked up his guitar and walked to the gravel edge of the Seasons freeway where he stuck his thumb up out in the air.
And all the starlings that were in April’s hair started flapping their wings til they lifted her like a cloud into the air and she began to fly away.
As they passed over September’s head, she called out
I had a really good night last night. I ran some errands during the day, one of which was picking up some firewood because it was finally spitting snow here in central Ohio. I thought to myself–what the hell is the point of having a fireplace if we never have fires?!
Am I right, or am I right?
So I had a roast and potatoes going in the oven, we had some lovely drinks of the alcoholic persuasion to choose from, and now we had firewood. The stage was set for a kick-ass evening.
Bill made the fire and both the kitties curled up near it.
I even went so far to bump this whole perfect scenario up a notch by selecting movies to watch as I sprawled in front of the fireplace too. The first flick to pop into my mind was a classic from 1978 that I’ve seen a million times but not recently–
A little cinematic gem called I Wanna Hold Your Hand starring Wendie Jo Sperber, Pam Allen and Eddie Deezan. Have you ever seen it? It’s about a crew of kids taking off for NYC in February 1964 to find their ways into the Plaza Hotel to meet The Beatles. It’s basically hilarious and a super-cute little movie. I’ve always liked it. I relate to Sperber’s character Rosie who loves and wants to marry Paul. I bet a crap ton of women can probably relate to Rosie.
Wendie Jo was so funny. ❤
Here she is as Rosie, moments away from the Beatles taking the stage on the Ed Sullivan Show.
I have felt like this a few times in my life. And it’s one of my favorite ways to feel.
So I Wanna Hold Your Hand was popped into the dvd player and I lounged on the floor in front of the fire with a pillow under my head and my kitties nearby and I watched the movie again. I thought to myself–when I was a 13 year old girl, newly infatuated with the Fab Four, all I ever wanted to do was listen to their records, read books about them, or watch shows about them or write stories about them. I LOVED them. Last night I felt rather thirteeny and it was lovely.
A perk to being 52 as opposed to 13 is you can do pretty much whatever the hell you want when you want. And that’s always cool.
I thought about asking my husband to take a picture of my two relatively-new tattoos on the backs of my calves last night, but I didn’t get around to it. I was thinking it would be cool to share them on my blog and my Facebook. Well, this morning I got on Instagram and my friend who did the tattoos posted them on his account. I was like–hey, that guy read my mind!
Let’s take a look, shall we?
File tattoos under “cool things you can do when you’re grown up”. ❤
Tattoos done by Matt at Thrill Vulture Tattoos in Westerville, Ohio. 🙂
These here are my George and Ringo tattoos. I love ’em. Here Comes the Sun is my favorite song ever. Helter Skelter is also a good time. When Paul plays that live and I’m there to see it, I basically lose my shit. In a good way.
I shall finish this post by showing my two other Beatles tattoos I’ve had for awhile because, you know, I gotta be fair.
This next one I’m going to share is the first Beatles tattoo I ever got. Also by Matt. I told him I dreamed of having a Hofner bass on my arm. I’ll never forget when I went in to the shop that day to get it done and he showed me the sketch he made. I was SO EXCITED. It was even better than I could have ever imagined. But that’s what I’ve come to expect with my tattooers.
I have a lot of tattoos, and I am not going to lie–this one is one of my favorites.
I hope you enjoyed this little peek at my skin and glimpse into my love of The Fab Four.
One things is 4 sure–
A love like ours will never die as long as I have them near me. ❤
It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything here, so today I said to myself…what the hell. I was uploading pics to use here when I came across a cool shot of my legs after I got them freshly tattooed a year ago. I thought–I’ll tell the story of my snake and my sparrow. People will be dying to hear about that. Right?
But first, let’s hear a song from the Red Hot Chili Peppers album One Hot Minute. How about this one. It reminds me of the time my sister and I went to see RHCP because we mainly went to see the opener Foo Fighters. This was in 1999. We got to the venue when over the speakers came the announcement that Foo Fighters would not be preforming because Dave Grohl was experiencing a health issue. Pretty sure he had a stomach virus thing. We were so bummed, but on we went to enjoy the show. Our seats we had purchased that day were clear up like in the 5th to the last row. Way up there. It was actually scary climbing and descending those stairs. Which we did often because my sister drank 5 beers throughout the night. She would look at me and go, “I want another one.” and I’d go, “you want another one?” and she’d go, “yeh.” So there we would go, holding hands, to get more beer. It was fun.
So at one point that night, Flea sat on his amp with his bass and sang this song and my sister and I laughed and laughed.
So remember back in late 2017/early 2018 when I was amazingly sick with fucking pelvic pain? Of course you do. I talk about it a lot here. When I actually talk here. Anyway, during that horrific time, I tried all kinds of things to help myself feel better. One of the better things I did was get massages from my friend Rowynn. She’s also a hypnotherapist and we did some of that work together too. She really did try to help me figure out what the hell was going on at the root of my pain and she did help me immensely.
One time while she was working on me, I had a very clear vision of three-headed snake snapping at people who were trying to take advantage of me or be mean to me or screw with my pretty much nonexistent boundaries.
See? Even then, before I knew I had TMS or even knew what TMS was, I knew my repressed emotions were playing a part in my pain. Hell! They were what caused the pain!
The snake I saw is a symbol of protection and wisdom.
I ended up getting a rattlesnake tattoo on my right leg. My friend Matt did it. It’s awesome.
The snake has also come to represent my pain which was centered in my tailbone. Something upset me or stressed me out? My tailbone hurt. Bad. I couldn’t sit for any length of time. I had such pressure there that it felt like my entire ass might fall out all the time. Sometimes it would burn. Sometimes it would buzz. It always scared the hell out of me. It took me a long time to figure out I needed to listen to what my pain was trying to tell me.
Rowynn will still ask me if I’m struggling with something—what’s your snake saying?
A little while after I was introduced to my rattlesnake, at another appointment with Rowynn, I had a clear vision of a little sparrow sitting in the doorway of a cage looking back and forth like it was thinking to itself—“can I really just fly the hell out of here now? I’m free to go?”
That vision was a wake up call. Like—all the shit that has ever held me back–is gone. Even the old me, who was constantly searching for ways to make everyone else happy, while all the while pretty much ignoring my own wants or needs, was gone. When I endured that pain, I isolated myself. I ignored everyone in my life with the exception of my husband and kids and my one friend Rowynn. I had to. I couldn’t deal with my pain AND having to deal with other people.
It was a very hard but educational time. I changed so much.
That little sparrow looking around at the open sky made me cry. I also envisioned her taking off. And that was very inspiring.
The freedom to do or don’t do what I want and for who I want! Even the freedom to just really be myself. With no apologies whatsoever.
I am the sparrow.
Soon after that vision, I got a sparrow tattoo on my left leg. My friend Naomi did it. It’s awesome.
When I got the sparrow done, I explained to my tattooer buddies…
The snake means
*Leave me the fuck alone!*
The sparrow means
*I’m getting the fuck out of here!*
So there you have it. The story of my snake and my sparrow. Two bad-ass spirit animals, if you will,
always with me in my mind and on my legs.
Tattoos done by Naomi and Matt at Thrill Vulture Tattoo in Westerville Ohio ❤️
Our son is getting married in October. He and his fiancée have been engaged since last July. They dated for years before that. Just yesterday I booked hotel rooms near the wedding venue for myself and my husband and our daughter. We also booked the wedding suite for the bride and groom.
Next Friday is the bachelorette party. Next Sunday is the bridal shower. I just came up with a killer idea for some songs to dance to with my son at the reception in front of all the other guests.
As I listened to the music choices via Alexa last night as I cooked dinner, I had to laugh and cry.
I love the woman he is marrying. I know they are going to be together forever and they’ll have the kind of relationship I have with his father.
There’s nothing I want more for my children than for them to be happy and to have best friends to spend their lives with.
But buddy, I know I am going to cry when he and I dance together. Not just happy tears, but also tears for missing the boy he used to be.
I wished for that kid ever since I was just a little girl. I knew I would have an Andrew even when I was only 7 years old.
He is a grown man now in love with his Audra.
And that is one of the best things ever.
But sometimes with all of these wedding plans going on all around us, I’ll look at him and this is what I see…