happy birthday, super nana!!

 all y'all know how much we love a party down heah on the plantation, so even though super nana is on the other side of the country, i hope all y'all will help celebrate this lovely day with our sweet angel baby!







 and because no coconut krewe party is complete with out maz...

and now, a few words from. . .

been a few weeks since i've sat down to write anything, but i'm glad all y'all had a chance to read Khanh Ho's piece and i hope you'll check him out in the future!

i'm just checking in and thanks for continuing to stop by. 

i'll see you tomorrow.

(Guest Post) Every Writer Needs a Muse: Mine Was Viva

Khanh Ho is writing the first Vietnamese American Detective Fiction ever.  Why?  Because being the first is a power trip.  Follow him on twitter @LAMysteryWriter or visit his website at www.losangelesmystery.com

Viva used to come over and get naked.  She was our next door neighbor, a roley-poley girl.  I didn’t find her attractive--I was too young--but she would cut up apples in wedges and put salt on them.  Then, she would serve them up to me on a porcelain plate.  They were pretty good.  So, I would let her come over and get naked.

Viva was my introduction to fiction; with Viva, I became a real honest-to-goodness writer.  She was game for anything.  So I let her become my muse.

We would play in my unfinished garage, among the stacks of undelivered Reader’s Digests.  Stacks and Stacks.  My brother was addicted to working—he had three different newspaper routes and was always looking for extra cash.  So he picked up this Reader’s Digest Route.  But the stacks kept growing.

They kept growing.

And growing.

I don’t think he ever delivered them.  They became a forest—like the trees in Where the Wild Things Are…or some installation at a fancy museum.

Viva was always trying to escape her house.  She was a child of divorce.  Her father was a drummer.  They didn’t own; they rented.  There were always wine bottles at her house, which smelled like cats and cigarette smoke.  I know:  that year, my teacher kept on asking us to bring empty wine bottles to school for craft projects.  But my family didn’t drink.  So I would come over to Viva’s house and get her father's empties.

There were always empties.

“Do you know what Viva means?”  her father asked.  He was really cool-looking for an old man:  bearded and lanky in that seventies polyester-shirt way.  “It means life in Mexican.”

Viva came over and we played soap opera.  She would take off her clothes and then I would pretend I was shocked to catch her in a compromising position with a stranger—a dark, handsome stranger--and then I would accuse her of infidelity.  I would point my finger at her--lightning in my eyes.

The scenario was always the same—her lounging in an imaginary bath tub.  Me:  angry as all heck, busting in.  She:  begging forgiveness.  I was a regular playwright.

Once, my brother came in and caught us.  It was my fault:  I had forgotten to lock the door.  He was really stern.  “If you want to get naked, you should do it in your own house.”  Viva hid behind the towers of Reader’s Digests, and made the pile of magazines tremble in terrible shame.

Then, Viva moved away.  And there were no more apples with salt.  Sometimes, I will eat apple wedges with salt and think of Viva—my first muse.  I’m eating apple wedges right now and guess what I'm thinking.  I'm thinking that Viva means life.

is it tuesday already?

why, yes, it is, gracie, and you've been MIA!

no excuse, no reason, just . . .

dunno

but, last night the new orleans saints beat the miami dolphins 38-17!  i watched the game and cheered as if i were at the super dome surrounded by the Who Dat Nation! it seemed the only antidote to the fiasco going on in our nation's capital. (end of sports AND politics here today)

the MITM is still on the med side of deepestdarkestafrica, so no news from him directly, but The Doc who IS in deepestdarkestafrica has spoken with him and it's all good.

the coconut krewe is fine and that has to be the best news today!

total aside, but thanks to a certain store that shall remain anonymous HomeGoods and their continuous background music, THIN LIZZY and specifically, Phil Lynott, played a huge part in my one of my dreams! (ok, it wasn't THAT sort of dream!) in my dream, he was standing on my porch with his dog and we were talking about how difficult it was for him to keep them on leash (right, wtf is THAT about) if that isn't strange enough the house was a sort of mashup of two homes i've lived in and absolutely loved. the other funny bit? super nana was in my dream and she kept asking who is that guy? does he live around here?  here's what started it:



~~~~~~

these made me laugh:

BBC, the surfer yogi

BGM, just because

little people

and here's lucy with some 'splaining to do

i had planned to blog after returning from lalaland to the plantation, BUT, things happened. 

and a LOT faster than i'd thought they would.

the MITM left this past wednesday for africaonthemediterranean. he'll be back next month and then gone again a few days later.

and then, i'm gone for a little while.

i think i'll see him sometime/somewhere/somehow.

(did you hear maria in westside story just then?)

anyway, september/october/november will be busy around here, but good busy. not everything will be work, but enough of it will be to make everyone appreciate the not working time.

so, there it is.

i was busy and now, i'm not  as busy.

i'll see you tomorrow.

on the road again

friday the 13th

have no fear!

we are alive and well and still in lalaland.

home tuesday night.

blogging will resume shortly thereafter.

 

where's waldo or what's become of savannah

i am in lalaland for 2 weeks. 

OK, less than two weeks now, but who's counting? it is H-O-T here and once again i had forgotten that out heah very few older buildings have central air! i swear, it surprises me every time! super nana and Mr Matrix live in a triplex that was built in the 1930's, so air conditioning meant strategically placed windows to catch the smallest breeze and move it through the house or so they thought! maybe back then, it worked but now, not so much...anyway, i remind myself that it's a dry heat and not pollen laden, so i'm fine.

at some point, i will actually believe it, too!

for Ms Quotes

the MITM took some photos, but i just did this using photobooth on my MAC. i LOVE having it short again!

more important than my previous post

GO READ hope TODAY!!

seriously, right now. 


you might be able to help and if you can't, you might know someone who can!

things change...

i'm getting a haircut today.

it's been a over a year.

there will be pictures.


unless, it's hideous and i have to do damage control somewhere else.

random stuff from my desktop or as the MITM says, i have so much fun blogging

remember when we went to charleston with Big Shelly and Miss K? ok, maybe you don't but here's a video i took when we went to johns island because the MITM wanted to see angel oak  we were on our way to a most delightful restaurant on the island called, the fat hen hot damn delicious, darlings, and highly recommended by the 4 of us! in fact, everything was so damn good, we didn't take any pictures!!  i will take a pic of the MITM and Big Shelly in their hats because, really, only guys can wear baseball caps that say "fat hen," right?

since then, the MITM has been doing some really great cooking and i have taken pics of some of the lovely meals we've shared.

blue cheese mussels

light and lovely

seafood gumbo slightly out of focus

i need to download more food photos from my phone, but i think you get the point, it's been damn fine eatin' around the plantation lately! he's anxious about work and leaving again, but that's what happens when you work in deepestdarkestafrica and time zones mean absolutely nothing to overseas callers. i'm just glad he's not making pies!

received this the other day from captain chaos:

yep, that's Stretch and BBC!

there you go

the MITM just said this to me!

i know, right? because i was doing, as he calls it, a facebook rant.  wouldn't you know it, i open that other social media site and what's the first thing i see? someone i KNOW for real/in person/has my phone number/knows the MITM is whining about a busker in one of the downtown squares! 11 other people (some of whom i also know) chimed in about what a horrible musician he is, how he only knows 2 tunes, etc., etc. and generally turning this first world problem into a serious issue worthy of legislation or most certainly, govenmental intervention! don't ask me why, but i got pissed off and asked if anyone had ever spoken with the man? had anyone ever said, dude, can you play another tune? that's all i posted even thought i wanted to add you know, as you would any other human being who was annoying the hell out of you? so, i just closed that window because, in reality, it won't matter what response is left for me. everyone will go on about their lives and probably just write it off...

my rant here (as i was cooling off from my veryintenseworkout) at my MAC and within earshot of the MITM was  because  i know that busker guy is a couple keys short of a full keyboard, so to speak, so we had always cut him some slack knowing that he found some joy in his 2 tunes and the smiles of the tourists who dropped a coin or 2 in his open case.

when we lived in the historic district, the MITM used to talk to him along with all the other street musicians, some of whom were homeless, many of whom were just lost in their own worlds just looking for an acknowledgement of their humanity.  would it be so difficult to look at another man and find some way to connect?  


i've made the right decision.

sweet mary sunshine, but i STINK!

yesterday our pal, pearl, regaled us with her tale about, well, hell go read it, sweetpeas, she tells it better than i do! 

(having yet another swallow and spit of water while i wait)

(the spit was in the sink to rinse the dryness out of my mouth, ok?)

and moving right along ('cos i know y'all are back now) with whomever wasn't too grossed out already by my lack of southern refinement and decorum...

we bought a treadmill, darlings! yep, got a sweet deal and there you go!  i no longer have to try and get out in the damndarkmorning before all the damn pollen has been released and/or the weather turns to hotdamnfurnace temperatures to get my heart pumping and the sweat rollin' anymore. by the time the weather turns nice again, i'll be ready to ride my sweet lemon yellow beach cruiser with Miss K around the plantation! (i'm still looking for a sturdy basket for the front...and maybe a bell...but no streamers!) 

i'm sure i've said this, but i have asthma. yes, that was the number 1 reason i finally quit smoking! being outside and breathing without having to worry if i remembered my emergency inhaler is really rather exciting (i do live a rather sheltered life these days, i know) and let us not forget, not seeing that concerned look in the MITM's eyes when my eyes open wide and i look like some sort of damn stranded fish out of water because i can't breath is also worth any effort expended by yours truly. oh yeah, walking on the treadmill for 30 minutes listening to that skinny minnie, jillian, talk about how much this is gonna hurt, but the results will make you (she's talking about me, right?) so happy is seriously enough incentive to power thru the workout just not to hear her! (i know i could turn the sound down, but i do try to be respectful. i mean the poor child did record all of that just for me, right?)

*pause for a moment while i collect myself because i just snorted water out of my nose whilst laughing*

so, now you know! the MITM and i are on a mission! he wants to walk a golf course again without it being a strain....

and i just want to be able to walk farther than BGM's 70 year old nanny!!!

(ok, i don't know that she's 70, but i know she's around my age, but older.)







is that so wrong?



i am off to the shower now, so thanks for cooling down with me!

i haven't left blogging v.2

(version .2 because like an idiot, i was cleaning up deleting* drafts and ended up deleting the published post.)

anyway, let's try this again.

it's been busy around here and i've also been distracted by that other social media site.  today, i sort of walked away and decided i need to get back to blogging. i mean, seriously, darlings, it just is so ridiculous to rail at the screen and even more so, to still be upset and angry when you stand up and walk away! it has been suggested (by the MITM who has to listen to me vent) that perhaps, i might want to spend a bit more time blogging or reading the big stack(s) of books next to my chair in the library instead!

i'm not against conversation or serious exchanges of ideas, those are exciting and educational. differences of opinion, philosophies, political views are as varied as we are people, so sometimes we agree and other times we don't *shrug* i just can't handle ugliness/rudeness/meanness masquerading as free speech anymore!

 so, it's not goodbye, it's...

i'll see you tomorrow.

* see comment by bill lisleman

the birthday girl

HAPPY 1st BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL MATRIX!!!

more pictures this weekend from the party!! if people remember to send them to us!!!

note: i didn't take this video, super nana did and sent it to me.

on the road again

 JUST received from Mr Matrix

 

normal blogging to resume tomorrow

we've been in charleston, south carolina with Big Shelly and Miss K!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR MOOSE!

i need to scan more of the old photos of the coconut krewe! 

especially for birthday posts!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR MOOSE!!