So, I thought it would be fun to take you guys, my dear blog readers and fans on the journey with me as I travel down the highway of things gone by, of what were perhaps, better days in some ways and straight into the sewer lines of my existence.
For example, let’s talk about my mother, most of you know her as Flossie. My mother was without a doubt the funniest person I ever experienced—she just didn’t know it. The thing that I remember most about Mom is that she was always busy although she never had a real job, couldn’t drive because my father said she was a menace on the road, and our house was always a mess—clutter from top to bottom. A situation that periodically resulted in my father going a little nuts, hollering to anyone who would listen that the house was a shit house and scared us all into cleaning—although to this day I do not remember my mother ever vacuuming anything, let alone dust or sweep. Yet, the work got done—usually by us kids and my father, who would get sick and tired of needing to move stacks of newspapers and freshly laundered towels off the couch before he could sit down. Said towels now being full of dog hair.
But still, Mom always seemed to be doing something. She spent most of her time in the kitchen singing hymns and . . . and doing whatever it was she did. She liked to crochet and made strange things that most people would not consider normal crochet fare. No kidding, for Halloween we set
out a crocheted
Jack-o-lantern with a crocheted candle—complete with flame inside. Our toilet
seat cover was a crocheted frog pond complete with lily pads and frogs. I
promise you the woman could crochet anything and she did. Yet, this woman who
didn’t seem to do anything other than cook—she was a good cook, but more about
that another day, and crochet, was the one person everyone in the neighborhood
knew they could count on in a crisis. When our neighbors got their electric
turned off for non-payment, mom helped stretch a heavy extension cord from our
house to theirs to keep their refrigerator running. She was the go-to Mom for
medical issues and had no fear of blood or oozing red pustules. She knew what
to do. But through it all she never dusted a thing.
|See, I told you|