quick pic for margaret.

did it in like three and a half hours, so by all freakin means, it is absolutely NOWHERE near my best. /sigh. yes, its the damn dog i hate, and best believe it was HARD to not paint horns on the little bitch. for some reason the sun looks odd in the picture, but on the painting itself it doesn't show the rays projecting from the sun. i have it in a swirly motion thingy. so, whatever.

notre nouveau jardin.

okay i got off my slack ass and took some shots of our newly refurbished yard. that grill could make the likes of Rosie O'Donnell and Melissa Etheridge jealous. its a real lesb'en head turner. the moolah we spent on that grill, i can assure you, we NEVER woulda normally spent on any grill. its SUPER nice!!
as far as our lil buddha,... the marble table that it rests on is actually the only thing (aside from our bird bath that survived the wreck). the table belonged to C's grandma, so i think of it as a modernized antique. how that table survived the accident is beyond amazement, and now the buddha is there to remind us to breathe and relax.
the table set with the umbrella just frikkin ROCKS!! offset by our tiki torches, its very party friendly. and as far as the seemingly out of place sundial nailed to the fence gate- well. thats part of whats left of that (irreplacable) antique sun dial. we were very disheartened to see the demise of that much loved decorative item in our yard. we really loved it when we saw it in atlanta at my favorite antique store up there, and even though it was out of our price range, we knew we had to get it. so i think it being proudly displayed on the gate that enters our humble abode gently reminds us to not take anything for granted. it can all be taken away in the blink of an eye. and the okra that ya see. well, my wittle bitty thumb has begun to turn a twinge of green.

dog days of summer.

its hotter than a four balled tomcat today. seriously. i am paranoid about lettin mah babies out for too long, because i don't want them to pass out or die of a heat stroke. so aside from keeping fresh water in the kiddie pool, i get a cold, very damp wash cloth when they come back inside, and wet their bellies and paws, and noses. i'm not one of these dumbasses who thinks "as long as they have shade outside, they'll be okay." stupid fucking morons.
i'm tellin yall, people will be our own demise. at first, i found it quite funny and entertaining to watch the stupid people, but now i am in just sheer amazement that these idiots last past their mama's tit.
i been waiting all day on mr DHL delivery man for mah new smartphone from at&t. it really rocks. touch screen, windows, PTT, and tons of other awesome junk i'll never use. yea buddy. no more crappy razr's for me!!
after mah wife suprised me with king crab legs for supper, we got a text that mason's on his way over for a visit this afternoon. woohoo!!

late night southern ponderings.

i think there is something in your blood stream, when you're a native carolina girl. its this innate beckoning. its origin a mystery, though its screaming silence pulls us, like the tides off of Folly, it cannot be ignored.
what is it? its this barbaric type pull to take in the beach, the mountains, or the lake. and not just any of these, only the south carolina waters and mountains can quench this bottomless thirst.
my only theory is it is derived from having good ol' carolina dna coursing through our veins. its this feeling that delves deeper than the heart and soul, its this pride in knowing that you share this phenomena with the likes of every single carolina lady before you.
its looking across the lowcountry marshes and knowing that your own great great grandmother carried that steel magnolia traits. knowing she had a soft, satiny jawline, with as much dewey charm right off the honeysuckle vine, with more manners than miss o'harra herself, and fit the mold of a lady that not even the queen of england could liken to. you cannot help but to smile a secret smile, because though you have never laid eyes on here, you know her secret; behind this gentlewoman's silken posture, charm, wits, and manners, lie the profound force to be reckoned with. the lady of the mannor a true super mom; for it was she who could truly get it all accomplished in one day, and still have time to conduct her motherly and wifely duties, all with a grateful, loving smile upon her face.
these self titled super moms of today's SUV driving brigade here in south carolina haven't a clue what they are made of. they like to think themselves as a true southern lady, the debutant of the ball. what mortal fools these idiots be. just because they have picture perfect hair, a low cut black blouse, adorned by an outrageously priced string of pearls, two point five children, and live on the lowcountry marsh, most certainly and unequivocally does not constitute one's induction to being a true carolina girl, no ma'am.
a true carolina girl of today has most of her natural hair color, appreciates her native ancestral lineage, loves to be real and down to earth, thinks the "process" they are making on Folly is full of bologne, looks lovingly at her ADD laden children, and kisses her wife goodnight as she lies her head upon her pillow.
i cannot help but to wonder what julia sugarbaker, or ouiser boudreaux would have to say about that.


My sister says Southerners are like other people, only more so." --Blanche McCrary Boyd

Whenever I'm asked why Southern writers particularly have a penchant for writing about freaks, I say it is because we are still able to recognize one. --Flannery O'Connor

I'm still the little southern girl from the wrong side of the tracks who really didn't feel like she belonged. --Faye Dunaway


Julia: [reading aloud a letter from Dash Goff] Yesterday, in my mind's eye, I saw four women standing on a veranda in white, gauzy dresses and straw-colored hats. They were having a conversation. And it was hot. Their hankies tucked in cleavages where eternal trickles of perspiration run from the female breastbone to exotic vacation spots that southern men often dream about. They were sweet-smelling, coy, cunning, voluptuous, voracious, delicious, pernicious, vexing and sexing... these earth sister/rebel mothers... these arousers and carousers. And I was filled with a longing to join them. But like a whim of Scarlett's, they turned suddenly and went inside, shutting me out with a bolt of a latch. And I was left only to pick up an abandoned handkerchief and savor the perfumed shadows of these women... these southern women. This Suzanne. This Julia. This Mary Jo and Charlene. Thanks for the comfort, Dash Goff... the writer.

Julia: Yes, you can give him a message. You do take shorthand, don't you? Good, we take it in the South too. Anyway, just tell him that I have been a Southerner all my life, and I can vouch for the fact the we do eat a lot of things down here... and we've certainly all had our share of grits and biscuits and gravy, and I myself have probably eaten enough fried chicken to feed a third world country - not to mention barbecue, cornbread, watermelon, fried pies, okra, and... yes... if I were being perfectly candid, I would have to admit we have also eaten our share of crow, and for all I know - during the darkest, leanest years of the Civil War, some of us may have had a Yankee or two for breakfast. But... speaking for myself and hundreds of thousands of my Southern ancestors who have evolved through many decades of poverty, strife, and turmoil, I would like for Mr. Weaks to know that we have surely eaten many things in the past, and we will surely eat many things in the future, but - God as my witness - we have never, I repeat,
[shouts]
Julia: never eaten dirt!

JULIA: We Southerners have had to endure many things. But one thing we Southerners don't have to endure is a bunch of bored housewives turning historical homes into theme parks, not to mention ill-mannered tourists with their Big Gulps, Mysties, Slurpees, and Frosties, their dirty feet overflowing rubber thongs, and babies who sneeze fudgecicle juice! Out!! Out of my house!! As God is my witness...I will burn it down myself before I let you in again!!

Ouiser Boudreaux: Oh! Well don't you expect me to come to one of your churches or one of those tent-revivals with all those Bible-beaters doin' God-only-knows-what! They'd probably make me eat a live chicken!

Ouiser Boudreaux: He is a boil on the butt of humanity!

Ouiser Boudreaux: I'm pleasant. Damn it! I saw Drum Eatenton at the Piggly Wiggly this morning, and I smiled at the son of a bitch 'fore I could help myself.

Ouiser Boudreaux: I'm not crazy, I've just been a very bad mood for the last 40 years!

Ouiser Boudreaux: A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Ouiser Boudreaux: I'm not as sweet as I used to be.

healing nicely.

last night's panic attack was not cool. i absolutely loathe the fact that it happened. i've been doing so well lately, so i'm not understanding why it happened. well, i mean, i know what scared the bejesus out of me. but unsure why it manifested itself in that manner and to that extent. not cool. not cool, mi amigo.

15 days to go until our vacation to florida. we've decided to take jackass, even though i wanna take harley. if you weigh out all of the pro's and con's, jackass wins out, hands down. we are truly looking forward to that. a chance to get away, relax, enjoy the summer, enjoy each other. it'll be our last true pack-your-bags and get-away vacation for the summer.

we received our first check to officially begin our home. and so it begins. the closing of one half of the book, and the beginning of another. this summer is exactly what i needed to heal. the divorce, my return to my artwork, my art class, my divorce, our vacation, and the commencement of building our future. it feels good. my soul is actually beginning to smile again.

the uncle called again last night and i let C answer the call. she said his demeanor changed immediately when he knew it wasn't me who answered. she told him i was laid up in bed whacked out on meds the doctor gave me for my back. (which IS half true. my back began to go out again, and i did get meds. but i am not laid out, nor whacked out.) i can't help but to wonder how long this drama will play out. i can pay at&t to block his number. but dang. thats just ONE MORE fee to pay. ya know? i can afford it, that's not the issue. but dang. ya know?

it feels good now that things are getting better. i am thankful for what i have. i absolutely MUST BE the luckiest girl in the world. my wife,... she was there for me last night in a way that nobody has ever been there for me. her compassion knows no boundries when it comes to healing me. if she hadn't have been there last night, i... i don't know what would've happened. thank you, my bella. thank you with all of my heart. i love you.

finding me.

the coolest thing happened to me tonight. i was letting the mutts out for their last pee, while i was sitting on the backporch smokin. a lightning bug started flying towards me from across the yard, so i watched in such childlike wonderment. well, it came all the way to our screen door, where it landed. it walked all the way around the screen part, all the while, its butt flickered on and off.

truly. the coolest thing ever.

yea. you know you're jealous. admit it.

you wish your butt lit up too.

welcome back.

i sat on the bed after our shower today, so she could fix my hair. i don't even recall what i was cutting up about, but what i do recall is... THE. BEST. FEELING. EVER. C wrapped her arms around me and told me in my ear, "Welcome back."
it feels good. i am off of my medication for depression. and damnit, i feel like i am finding me all over again. the slapstick, fart jokes, and degrading sexual humor that belongs in the mouths of sailours and soldiers.
i watched an episode of mah girls the other day where stan had his bipass surgery and did his recovery at the girls' house. he faked his relaspe and when busted and chastised by dorothy, she said something to him that hit home for me. "its time to grow up, stanley........happy birthday, peter pan." i feel myself growing up, somewhat. in ways that my wife won't understand. she still grates my ass about growing up, but says with with endearing aggravation. (i love you, pookie.) i cannot see myself as this vanilla, adult, plain jane southern wife. um, hello? can we say,....BORING. never EVER will that be me.
yes, i am working on this compromise thing and other little things as well. but i will always find humor where i shouldn't, i'll always have a two tracked mind so it seems its as if i'm not paying attention, and most likely, i'll always be forgetful, and semi tazmanian devil.
i have my faults. and buddha knows, between my self confidence, my daddy, and those people who hate me... i am WELL aware of my short comings. (yes, that was a purposefully crude comment.) my wife has her flaws too.
i think there comes a place in every marriage, to where no matter how much you love your partner, it becomes easy to spot all of their flaws. thats when the true test comes, i think. because its then when you can flee or stay. and if you stay, that means....like the quotes says,....that you can love some imperfect person, perfectly.