Coming Clean

Yesterday, I went to town to do some shopping. Living "out" like we do, it's a big deal to go to town - and being a reluctant shopper in the best of cases, it's ALWAYS a big deal for me to go shopping.

I got home, excited to have it all over with about my purchases. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with "when was the last time you took a bath?" from the husband! Being the cheery person that I am, I glared at him and shouted said "this morning ... WHY???".

He then proceeded to tell me that I had fleas. That I had, in fact, left some in the bathtub.

I will tell you at this point - our dawg had a flea issue recently.  HAD.  As in they are nowhere to be seen now. Except, according to the man of the house, I have them.  Hmmmm ... I imagined all sorts of strange scenarios, possible diseases, news crews, large royalty checks stemming from the tale of the woman from Rapidan, VA who had fleas ... until I remembered that PEOPLE don't have flea infestations.

THEN I bent over ... and felt of the small brownish-black dots in the bottom of the bathtub ... yeah. It felt familiar, alright. And the culprit was sitting on the side of the tub ...

My wonderful loofah body scrub ... do those specks look like another picture on here??

So while the country wife in Rapidan, VA and her husband won't be getting a nice chunk of money from story royalties, at least I don't have fleas.

doors

to take my heart and slam it hard
shows what it's worth to you
and all those tasteless words you said
well, you just can't un-do

but just beneath the dirty doors
you'll see it's now alive
the pain is gone and though i cry
my heart and soul are wise ...

when you decide to call again
and hear that ring that will not end
well, maybe you can just pretend ~
you dialed the numbers wrong.

© Debbie Finlay

fantasy

joy ~ with thin strips of pain
when my lover calls my name
hold me close but stay away
and leave my heart alone

sunshine filled with shadowed clouds
my heart is no longer proud
i scream your name but not out loud
since your time is not mine

if i go or if you stay
silent in this deadly game
will smiling take away the pain
or hide it from the truth ...

a truth that we no longer see
because it's mixed with fantasy
and what's left now is disbelief
in things that were not there.

© Debbie Finlay

truth

the whole world seems to be so blind
when justice is a dollar sign
and lies that flow through evil lips
do not speak the truth ~

when it's our gods that will collide
take your side and i will keep mine
while we both have solid proof
that neither should be here ~

the lines that you so loosely speak
will soon be met with disbelief
by those you had hoped to sway
to see things as you do ~

so while you're on that downward slide
falling hard on all those lies
and no one stops to lend a hand ...
you'll know they've found the truth.

© Debbie Finlay

instead

would the colors change
or the song remain the same
if we started long ago
and did not know what we know ...

would grass be a brighter green
if not for the mess between
if truth were to be told
would we still be getting old ...

would you be a better you
without my deep dark shades of blue
if those words had not been said
would you be here now instead?

© Debbie Finlay

More Bad Habits ...

I'm finding that lots of my habits have changed as I've gotten more "mature". Whether it's the t.v., writing, coffee consumption, or FOOD ... it's all done a big flip-flop.

My latest (confession of a) nasty habit involves food. To be very specific, peppers. The peppers themselves are not nasty. It's my compulsive consumption of a certain type of pepper that borders on revolting. My pepper of choice has become this:

Yep, I've become a rabid jalapeno eater.

This might not be a big deal, but I've never at any previous point in my life voluntarily eaten a jalapeno pepper in any form. That all changed about a month or so ago when I had a very vivid dream of opening a tin can full of jalapeno peppers. Why the tin can - I have no idea. When I got up that day, I found that Calvin did indeed have an unopened JAR of jalapeno peppers in the cabinet, and I attacked them.

I chopped up some jalapenos and put them into some northern beans that Calvin had cooked. THEN I made some excellent corn muffins and added some chopped jalapenos and cheese to them. THEN I got some tortilla chips and covered them with cheese and jalapenos. THEN I thought they would be tasty cooked up with some corn. Finally, I just took some jalapenos out of the jar and stuffed them in my face.

I've tried to convince Calvin that we should just get a gallon jar of them, but he hasn't agreed ... yet.

I've also tried to convince Calvin that chips and jalapenos make an excellent late night snack, but he hasn't agreed to that one either!

Nasty Habits

Normally, I'm a one-to-two cup per morning coffee drinker, but lately things have changed.

I've developed a nasty habit - I'm putting down a good 4 cups of coffee per morning.

I'm not talking about a 6-ounce cup of coffee here - our coffee cups hold a big ole 12-ounce serving. (Should I be drinking decaf??)



What was the cause of this horrible event?

Holiday edition liquid coffee creamers - ahhhhh!! Pumpkin pie spice and gingerbread latte are a couple of my favorites. I love the smells and flavors of nutmeg, cinnamon, and a hint of clove.

By the way I'm chugging this stuff down, I'm very thankful they're only available a couple of months out of the year!

What We Leave Behind

I had a great-aunt who died two, maybe three years ago. It’s a pity I don’t remember exactly when. I remember meeting her when I was a child and thinking she looked like my grandmother, which was odd because she was my grandfather’s sister. She and her husband didn’t have children of their own, so I guess she was especially fond of the children of her brothers and sisters. When she died, her “estate” was willed to her nieces and nephews. As a majority of the nieces and nephews had already passed on, the estate was in turn passed on to their offspring. I guess you can see how far down the line that could’ve gone … and it did. After all was said and done, I got a check a few months ago from her estate. I certainly did appreciate it and put it to good use, but it made me think - what will I leave behind when I go?

It’s nice to think you’ll end up with money or material possessions to pass on to those you love. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll have much in the way of material possessions to leave. “Stuff” has never held much interest for me ...

I have a picture I think is beautiful that my grandfather gave me and it’s hanging on the living room wall. My grandfather’s parents bought it from a traveling salesman when HE was a baby. It’s a mother in a doorstep feeding 3 little girls while a man works in the field behind the house. I look at that picture and see all kinds of stories, and while it’s very special to me, I’m not too sure anyone else would feel the same!

The collection of jewelry that I possess is pretty small. I have a nice diamond that Calvin gave me, but that’s about the extent of my jewels. Even having 4 holes in my ears hasn’t caused me to want a lot in the jewelry department!

I have a small collection of books and writings, and I hope they would be special to someone. Most of the writings are my own - I’ve been writing since early high school and have found great comfort in being able to do so. Who knows - maybe down the road a future generation will wonder where the desire to “put pen to paper” comes from and they’ll learn a little of the past.

That's the extent of my material stuff ... but what would I REALLY want to leave behind?

The more I think about it, the more I feel that the things that are most important are the things that can’t be taken away, or sold, or auctioned off to the highest bidder. The most important things are those little pieces of yourself, who you are deep inside when no one else is looking, what you stand up for or against, how you take disappointments as well as fortunes, how you treat people that can’t possibly help you, and hundreds of other “little” things. Perhaps THEY are the only “things” worth leaving for someone else.

These are the things I want to leave behind for my daughter … and HER daughter … and even HER daughter … along with that living room picture!

Dear Mr. Gomez:

Facebook is a wonderful thing, don’t ya think? It has allowed most of us average, everyday people to connect around the world with people we’ve lost touch with, admired from afar, and with whom we may or may not be related.

Since being on Facebook, I’ve found there are many ways to “connect”. You can make someone your friend (with their approval, of course) with a simple click of the mouse. You may find, via this “friend”, that THEY have friends you may know. In turn, that person can now become YOUR friend. You can peek at the friends of others and longingly gaze at how many friends your friend has and wonder why they, too, are not your friend.

Friends, friends everywhere! How exciting is that? Reach out and (virtually) touch has a new meaning. It’s so simple to collect friends!

Facebook also has business pages, where you can “like” (the old thumbs up) a business and thus become a form of advertisement for said business. I think it’s a very clever marketing idea for small businesses. A lot of large, big name businesses have pages, also. Some of these businesses try to entice a following by offering a little something in exchange for your upwardly pointing thumb.

Facebook also has some cool games, and if you’re lucky enough to not be worried about your “download/upload” percentages because of having satellite internet access, you can play those games, accumulate MORE friends, get cool prizes, etc. You can take weird quizzes about everything from your eye color to one that tells you who you were in a past life.

Celebrities have pages, too, and you can become a fan of just about any celebrity in the world. When you become a fan, you can “invite” others with whom you may be friends to become a fan of your favorite celebrity, too!

So, to the daddy of Selena Gomez … when you look at your daughter’s Facebook fan page and see that my 50-year old husband is a fan of your little girl, please understand this man has a little girl of his own who is a huge fan of your little girl and invited her daddy to become a fan, too, and - probably much like yourself - he just couldn’t say “no”.

The Grassy Knoll

November 22, 1963 ~ where were you?

Most of us remember this date, and even if you weren't alive then, you'd be familiar enough with history to know it's the date that President Kennedy was assassinated.

September 22, 2009 ~ where were you?

Just because fewer people would be familiar with THIS date, does not make it any less important or significant. I can tell you exactly where I was on that date - in a hospital awaiting the birth of my first grandchild.

My only child - Lauren - was due to give birth to a little baby girl. How exciting! Since babies are born every minute of every day, this shouldn't be too hard, right? Her labor was "scheduled" to be induced on this date, and when she came into the hospital, she had already been having contractions. Along with her were her sweet husband and her in-laws, who had come all the way from Wisconsin to celebrate the birth of THEIR first grandchild, too. We expected that grandbaby to be delivered shortly and with a minimum amount of difficulty for all.

We were wrong.

Our precious little grandbaby was presented to the world weighing a little over 10 pounds. TEN POUNDS. No "newborn" clothes for little Elina! In fact, the nursery couldn't find a gown to fit her. A whoppin' baby girl ... healthy, beautiful, and a blessing!

Sounds simple, huh? Well, it wasn't.  I would not by any means call this an easy delivery. After a long, hard, tiring labor, my little girl was taken to surgery to have a cesarean birth. When Elina was born, she had what was called a "wind-swept" foot. What that means is that she just didn't have room inside of her little mom to grow, and her foot was kind of pointed out and upward. She was fitted with a little cast on her foot, which she wore for a few months after her birth (the cast is gone now, and Elina's foot seems to be fine).

In addition to the issue of having to take Elina to an orthopaedic doc before they could even bring her home, her mom and dad were in the process of moving. Not just an ordinary move, either ... a move into a house that needed a HUGE amount of work before they could move into it.

And to add to all that ... Elina's mom was going into her last year of college while also doing an internship at a women's shelter.

So while it's "happy birthday, Elina", it's also a celebration of a mom and dad who have both worked very hard and against a huge amount of odds to start their own family and are successful!

I've heard that the best thing a parent can witness is the birth of a grandchild, but I'd go further than that and say that it's not only the birth of a grandchild, but seeing your OWN child grow and become a wonderful parent on their own.

Everyone has a "grassy knoll" experience ... and it's different for us all.

Tater Salad

I made some Saturday - tater salad, that is.

Depending on where in this country you claim to have been born, you might say "poe-tay-toe" salad. Had I pronounced the word as "poe-tay-toe", I would probably have been called "uppity". After all, if "tater" was good enough for my grandfather, it should be good enough for me.

My grandfather LOVED taters - mashed taters, fried taters, baked taters, and even bald taters (yep, bald - as in bald eggs, bald water ...). My family had lots of taters in its background. Being from southwest Virginia, I figured that had to do with the family's somewhat Arsh roots (that would be Eye-rish to some). My grandfather also loved bisskits, which one of my cousins declared were made from flare. Is it any wonder I talk strangely?? 

Back to tater salad ... during all my adult years as a gourmet chef (ok, just an average cook!) I've had the chance to connect with the virtual world of recipes and found that there have to be at least 1,423,785 recipes for tater salad. Well, maybe not that many, but you get the general idea, and I had NO idea that such thought went into the variety of ingredients with which one would/could use to make plain ole tater salad. My grandfather would have been flabbergasted ... or worse. He probably would have wondered what in the heck my mom-ma had put on his plate and refuse to eat it. I must confess here that I NEVER called my grandfather "grandfather" ... he was always pop-pa.  Which you've probably already guessed since my grandmother was mom-ma.

It's hard for me to separate tater salad and my love for tater salad from my family roots. In other words, I haven't used nor do I think I'll ever use a recipe for poe-tay-toe salad. I don't measure out ingredients and I don't use herbs or vegetables whose name I can't pronounce. I cut up a pan full of taters, cook 'em til they're done, and add stuff like Miracle Whip, a little onion, some celery, sweet pickles, a mater (if I have one - and that might be a toe-may-toe to some), toss it around and sprinkle on some salt and pepper. Every once in a while I get a wild hair and throw in some dill to change things up a little. I've never had complaints, so I figure I'm doing ok making it without the benefit of a recipe.

NOW ... if I could only figure out what kind of flare my cousin used to make her excellent bisskits ... I've already ruled out petunias.

More Beginnings ...

I was born a poor black child ...

Not really. That's a line from an excellent movie. It's also not true that I have confessions. Or that I am a "country" wife.

I AM a wife. Maybe I can throw some random confessions in from time to time to keep things lively.

How did I get here? Other than the obvious way of being born to human parents at some point long past.

I was born in Abingdon, VA in 1958. Now I will soon turn 52 and live in Rapidan, VA. And there's a whole lot of stuff in between.

I am married to a man I consider to be my closest friend. This is my 3rd marriage ... yep, 3.  YOU can count 'em - because I try to forget the first 2. All I can say is that I haven't always been good at picking out men with whom I have relationships. I thank my first husband for my lovely daughter - she's always been a joy to me during some pretty bad times in my life, and she still is a joy. I thank my second husband for ... making me a smarter woman.

My HUSBAND - Calvin - is how I ended up in Rapidan. This is the place in which he grew up. He inherited the home after the death of his mother in 2009. It's been quite an adventure moving into another woman's home and trying to make it "ours". These adventures (or misadventures, as I sometimes call them) may be related periodically. I sure don't want to divulge everything at once and mess up the curiosity factor!

I have a beautiful 24 year old daughter, who is married to a great man and they have my only grandchild - a little angel who will turn a year old on September 22. I have 2 stepdaughters who are 16 and 9 (going on 18!) who visit us every other weekend. Lots of girls in my family! I just love girls ... not in a weird way. They add so much to life and I love seeing all of them grow and become the people they were meant to be.

Calvin & I recently added to our family - we got a dawg. Or a doug. THIS is the only other male in our family - Calvin needed some male companionship! He's a yorkie-poo named Aladdin, and he follows Calvin everywhere. EVERY where. Into the bathroom, out the door, down the hall, into the kitchen ... you get the idea. I've gotta say Calvin has a LOT more patience with the dawg than do I. But Calvin loves his dawg. Or doug (this is how his mom pronounced the word, so we keep saying we should've named Aladdin "Doug" the dawg ... OK, ya had to be there.)

This is just a light skim off the top of the surface leading to the many layers that is my life, my experiences, and my beginnings that led me to where I am now.

And remember ... eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

Beginnings ...

This may not be the best time for me to be starting a "blog". Living in the outposts of the backwoods known as Rapidan, VA does not allow much in the way of modern technology as related to Internet access. Currently, my husband & I use a satellite company for this - and it was very recently rudely interrupted due to us wanting to - get this! - access the internet at will. Seems that satellite companies have a "Fair Access" kinda policy that severely limits the amount of time we can actually access the airwaves. Soooo, in his ever diligent search to come up with alternative means for us to be on the cutting edge of technology, my husband found that our cell phone provider has a gadget that we can plug into the USB port of our computer(s) and we can access the internet that way. What a relief!

The relief was short-lived. Even though the big-name reputable cell phone provider assured my husband that we could access up to 5 computers with this gadget, it appears that this information was somewhat of a sales ploy to entice us into lusting for the gadget. Oh yeah, we can use the device for multiple computers ... just one at a time.

We have 3 computers in our home. I have a nice big honkin' desktop, and there is a desktop (not as big OR honkin' as mine!) downstairs. My husband has a cool laptop that he likes to carry around to various places with him. When my stepdaughters come to visit, they both have laptops also. This does, indeed, mean that at some times we have 5 computers going. It seems that having 3-5 computers will suck the life out of the amount of "fair access" we are allowed. OK, so we will have to learn to adjust.

I consider myself a flexible person, but I came from the CITY where we had (gasp!) cable access to internet. Before we were in the CITY, we were in a semi-small town where we had DSL. Heck, when I first got a computer and learned about the huge cyber world, I had dial-up, which even though slow and poky, didn't limit the amount of time I could spend on the computer. Yep, folks complained about my phone line being tied up all the time - so I got a dedicated phone line for the computer.

NOW almost 15 years after that first dial-up experience, modern technology has not extended to the bowels of Virginia. Yes, I may be an hour from Washington, DC, 45 minutes from Charlottesville, VA, and an hour an a half from Richmond, but it's still the middle of nowhere.

I'm happy to live in a beautiful area of Virginia. I really am happy about that. I'd be a lot happier with DSL ... or FiOS ... or cable ... anything but satellite!

Looking forward to writing about a city woman's (mis)adventures as a country wife ...