Jun 8, 2011


It's after 4am, I was awake, Jake is here, but my phone rang and I nearly had a heart attack.  I saw it was my mom...heart attack number 2.  Is she sick or hurt?  No. She's upset as hell about this and can't sleep:  http://www.wftv.com/news/28144821/detail.html  She wanted to know if we could find out if we could volunteer with Food Not Bombs and, if so, go help.  Really?  My hard-ass conservative mom?  I mentioned we might get arrested and she was fine with that, said it would feel good to take a real stand and at least people get fed in jail.  I'll be damned. But, I'm with her...I can handle a criminal record for this.  "Why were you arrested?"  "Oh, I fed some homeless people even though it was against the law."  Yeah, fuck *that, bring it on.  So, I'm going to find out if they can use us and if so, we might wind up on the news, lol.  For real, though, I love my mom for this...this story has been weighing on me, too.  It should never, *ever be illegal to feed people who are hungry.

I get why people don't like large groups of homeless people gathering up.  They smell bad, pick-pocketing is rampant, drug sales occur, other crimes can take place...they panhandle, they accost, they can be scary.  I get it, really.  But in the end, they are still people, human beings, and they are hungry. Who in the hell has the right, and who *gave them the right, to tell me or anyone else we can't give something as basic as *food to hungry people, regardless of their numbers, circumstances or location?  Food, and forgive my liberal-ass self for suddenly emerging here, is a human right to have as long as someone is capable of voluntarily giving it.  To arrest people for providing food to hungry people because they want to and can?  Boggles my mind.  It really does.  How shameful in America.  It is, it's just shameful.

If you want more info, please go and help if you can. Lord knows I have no trouble asking people for money to help others, lol, so if you can, even a dollar helps.  See?  http://www.foodnotbombs.net/dollar_for_peace.html

Arresting people for feeding the hungry, my ass.  I don't think our founding fathers *or God would like that, do you?

Jun 3, 2011

A tale of pee and genetics.

Brace yourselves, I'm going to talk about my pee. Yesterday, I noticed it was somewhat dark, a telltale sign I'm not drinking enough.  Um, stuff like water, anyway.  :-D  So, I set to work drinking tons of water, tea, chemically diet soft drinks (note that I refrained from saying "cokes", lower case, and then specifying the cokes were Dr. Pepper and nasty Sierra Mist), and juice.  Today, my pee was normal again *cues canned applause* and all was well. Only when I went to pee a bit ago, it smelled funny.  Smoky, like BBQ pork.  Um, that can't be good right?  I'm a little freaked out and come in here to Google "my pee smells smoky" and came to the conclusion I either have low DHEA levels or am diabetic.  Google it, you'll see. Terrific, now I'm scared.  I decide to ignore it and distract myself so I go out to check my mail and am bowled over by the smell of smoke and as I step out into the open, ash is falling.  Fires?  I go back inside and check the bathroom...sure enough, the window is cracked open.  Dammit, Jake!  But it's still a good PSA...if your pee smells smoky, like bacon or ham, it's not a good thing. File that away and remember I might have just saved your life and I didn't take pictures. You're welcome.

Pee aside, tonight I was looking through some old pictures and found some cute ones of my grandmothers and one even included my mom.  Want to see?  Thought so.

This is Mamaw.  She didn't really have a crease across her face in real life but she really did have the gold tooth. It's okay, my dad had two.  Someday, I aim to have a grill. *nods*  Anyway, she was Cherokee and Lumbee and could do cool things like heal people up with herbs, beat Papaw up when he got drunk, deliver babies, skirt the law and ride horses.  She was mouthy, feisty and loved wrestling on TV.  She was also fiercely independent but a caregiver and a wonderful friend, mother, mother-in-law and mamaw.  She lived with us for a few years and we alternately wouldn't speak to one another and then turn full of secrets together.  Her hair was down to her butt and it was a daily event, brushing, braiding and then pinning it up.  I used to love to brush her hair while she told me stories about our family and sang to me. I know now she told me things she hadn't told anyone else. She died when she was up in her 90's, when I was in my 20's.  I miss her every day, still.

This is my Mammy, with Mamaw.  
Mammy had the distinction of giving me white blood, lol, since she was half white and looked to be about 300% so.  While Mamaw was an "other side of the tracks" kinda girl, Mammy was a "has a housekeeper" kind of lady, yet the two became fast and forever best friends. They'd travel together with my parents, sharing a room and giggling like teenagers...they were avid practical jokers, my dad generally being the butt of their jokes. Together, they were dangerous and man, did they like being together.  And having adventures.

Like trespassing in someone's cotton fields.  From Mammy, I get my farm wife's bosom, my defiant smirk, my lack of shame and my willingness to wear knee-hi stockings with dresses.  Oh, yes, I have done so.  In later years, she developed an affinity for Hawaiian print muumuus and dye-to-match orthopedic shoes, coupled with funky glasses and lots of jewelry.  Anyone who knows me in real life is laughing right now and nodding.  From her, I got tacky.  She would totally have talked about her pee, too. She died fairly young, in her late sixties, after years of complications from being diabetic.  She lost a leg and half a foot to it in the years before she died and she taught her grandkids all we know about alternative uses for prosthetic limbs and how to fall out of a wheelchair and not even be able to call for help for the laughter.  She taught us all how to make fun of people, too. I learned a lot from her and so miss her, too.

My dad was the amazing photographer behind most family pictures I have.  He took this one of Mamaw, Mammy and my mom, which I have framed and in my living room.  :-)  And who do you think was behind my now-famous (at least in my own mind) little walker icon, after shoving red sunglasses on my face and a red pacifier in me?

Yes, indeed, he's the guilty party.  It's okay, though...I'd wear them both again to have him back.  I miss my family tonight. Think it would be weird if I went to Mom's and let myself in, then crawled in bed with her?  I guess it would be, huh?  I'll just wake her up early and tell her about my pee event.  She'll laugh, apologize for not having her teeth in, and the world will be good again.  :-)

G'night, y'all.