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Death From Above - - - In The Guise Of A Pink Fuzzy Slipper
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Death From Above - - - In The Guise Of A Pink Fuzzy Slipper Now one would think that after almost forty-six years my mum would know to think more carefully about what she would say to me. But no, she still says things before thinking them through. These are not things that are hurtful, mean or anything like that; just things that are “open to interpretation”; so to speak. So my mum was fixing lunch, which did not involve “water boarding” any veggies, when she turned around and asked me if I would “cut the cheese”. So I did. And let me just say that for a seventy year old, her accuracy with a thrown slipper is uncanny. She would probably have 64% completion rate in the NFL. But I do think her days of throwing the deep out pattern have passed her by. My sister and I used to think that she could bend a thrown slipper around a corner in the house. They were pink, fluffy, wooden heeled guided missiles. My mum even pegged my best mate, Michael, in the back of the head one time. And when I turned around to laugh at her for missing me, the other slipper drilled me between the eyes. I swear that it spiraled on its way in. The worst bit of all, was that slippers were also inbound from “Aunt” Shirley, Michael’s mum. (Just imagine a group of women who all looked like the housewife characters in Monty Python’s Flying Circus and you have the group of mum’s on the street where I grew up.) These are the kind of things that I always laugh about with my mum. Her standing phrase is “you were a horrible …. And really have not improved with time.” It is also really funny to see her in her senior’s complex since she is a very youthful seventy. Right now she is waging a war of attrition with her GP and her lung doctor and heart doctor on her quitting smoking. They do not stand a chance. I have a major sunburn right now from dragging a cart to hell and back at her favourite nursery today. I swear she dragged my arse into Death Valley as this place was huge. Coming down here from a wet and cold Oregon, I was not really ready for temperatures in the mid-90s. And who would have thought that there was such a vast selection of plant life to touch, smell and (no lie) taste before we could get make the appropriate selections. These were then loaded on my little cart that I was dragging. It came complete with a “nails on the blackboard” squeaky wheel in front and a set of back wheels that must have been lifted from a K-Mart shopping cart since they wanted to go in two different directions at the same time. There were no pathways, per se, rather a series of goat tracks and deer trails that meandered up to where the owners kept the cacti and other assorted desert plants. What I really needed was a burro. We weren’t buying, but the Duchess wanted to climb to the summit of Hell’s Half-Acre and take a look at these anyway. (And for the record, all of the plants my mum ended up selecting for me to buy her for Mother’s Day were found within twenty feet of the front gate.) And my mum would not let me ride the wagon back down the hill: I even said that she could ride pillion on the back! So tomorrow I will be up nice and early because I have to dig holes: call me Shia, and feed me some onions. Nothing is ever so simple as it would originally appear to be as I have nine new plants to make room for, but (big long run-on sentence warning) I have to plant her upright fuchsia, that is in a pot, by the front door (because it gets some shade) and then the pot needs to be cleaned and one of the daisies we bought needs to go in there and then I have to find a place for her little pine tree that lives by the front door (pine trees in the fuckin’ desert, right) and pot up the hot pink hibiscus in the vacated pot and it really needs to have all new dirt so I have to go and get more potting soil from Home Depot and then the watering might be wrong for both so I had better check the sprinklers and maybe replace them and (oh by the way, the sprinklers come on at 5:45 so that would be the best time to check) and since I am checking the sprinklers in front, take a look at the sprinklers in back because some areas don’t get enough water and if I think that the watering is fine then I can plant her two other hibiscus and her camellia that she bought last week and then I need to stake the freeway daisies she planted last year so that I can put in her purple coral bells and white salvia …. I was not kidding earlier when I said that I need a quiet week at work next week to get over my vacation… But I love working in the garden and it is the single greatest thing that I miss about not having a house of my own. I would probably go with a little less Wal-Mart plastic and ceramic statuary in the garden, but all in all, my mum’s garden is really nice: lots of bold and vivid colors. And she has one of those little gardening conundrums that even stumped the owner of the nursery. Living right in the middle of the desert, at altitude, my mum has a section of her garden that is damp and shaded. I am thinking rhubarb! It is the cockroach of the garden plant world: impervious to all weather conditions as well as footballs, soccer balls, high speed bike wrecks and inadvertent excursions with the lawn mower. So, anyway, it is time to eat and rebuild my strength for tomorrow’s great plant migration. My mother is fixing a chef salad (no vegetables will be harmed in the preparation) for me since it is so hot. And, no shit, she is wearing a cardigan as it is not summer yet. I am envisioning something along the lines of the episode of That ‘70s Show where all of the furniture in the basement was moved 3” to the left. By the time I am done, completely dehydrated and burned to a delicate shade of cranberry, every plant in the garden will have moved from one hole to another (about 3" to the left). And, for the love of God, let there be no rattlesnakes ....  |
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What a lovely son you are...which of course means your Moma raised you right. Enjoy your time playing in the dirt, it's so therapeutic.  I make mistakes, I am out of control & at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best. ~Marilyn
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I concur with IMP ... And wear sunscreen! I do not want to worry about peeling skin and abnormal freckles! *oy* /  / *hugs* /  This is my blog - [blog _Safira]. There are many like it, but this one is mine. RECOMMENDED READING: A F F The Only Site For Me
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5/7/2009 12:45 pm |
 I'm picturing pink fuzzy slippers flying around corners...no matter what you say, it is clear you are loving every minute! the joy of spending time with your mum is shining through your writing... and I will bet she is the envy of all her friends...wonderful son and beautiful garden...  "All you'll get from strangers is surface pleasantry or indifference. Only someone who loves you will criticize you." - Judith Crist, crack film critic
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What a lovely son you are...which of course means your Moma raised you right. Enjoy your time playing in the dirt, it's so therapeutic. Now you know why my mum says that I am quite a prize. I also got to take the (steel) front door off its hinges Friday and use a vast assortment of power tools to prep it so that my mum could paint it this week. L
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I concur with IMP ... And wear sunscreen! I do not want to worry about peeling skin and abnormal freckles! *oy* / / *hugs* / I am peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeling really badly. I could make the skin coat out of The Silence Of The Lambs with the slough offs .... L
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Hi Shaye, Snakes = squealing like a little girl L
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I'm picturing pink fuzzy slippers flying around corners...no matter what you say, it is clear you are loving every minute! the joy of spending time with your mum is shining through your writing... and I will bet she is the envy of all her friends...wonderful son and beautiful garden... I had a blast down at my mum's. She even rented me out to a couple of her friends to go move stuff for them .... L
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_Saf, I am peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeling really badly. I could make the skin coat out of The Silence Of The Lambs with the slough offs .... L This is my blog - [blog _Safira]. There are many like it, but this one is mine. RECOMMENDED READING: A F F The Only Site For Me
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