Posted tagged ‘prissy’

“…mirages are things that aren’t really there that you can see very clearly.” “How do you see something that isn’t there?”… “sometimes it’s much simpler than seeing things that are”…”

May 6, 2016

I think I’m going crazy, the kind of crazy you get when you see ocean waves in the desert after you’ve crawled through the sand for days without water. This morning I swear I saw a bit of blue sky and a round bright orb hiding behind clouds. They’ve gone now so I’m questioning my sanity. Were they really there?

With all the rain this past week, I’m imagining plots to science fiction movies, bad science fiction movies. I see plants crawling up my legs or vines trying to grab me as I run to the car. Water creatures rise out of the front lawn and none of them are friendly. There better be sun soon or it will be too late.

At least the rain has stopped. Maybe my deck will dry so it can be sealed then readied for warmer weather. To say it is spring is a heart wrenching misnomer.

I have never been prissy. I had a couple of college friends who were prissy. One was the real life epitome of Mrs. Cleaver. My friend wore the exact same sort of sweaters and she wore pearls. I saw her at my class reunion, and she is still wearing sweaters and pearls. Even her glasses are a throw-back to the 50’s. She’s not making a statement or being a parody. It’s all real.

When I was younger, I used to dismiss the wardrobes of old ladies simply because they were old ladies. I figured they earned the right to wear anything they wanted. I am probably an old lady to the kids on my street. I can imagine them giving directions to my house, “The old lady lives in the green house with the garden in front.”I, however, have a wardrobe very different from the old ladies of my childhood. None of my clothes scream old lady. I have been dressing in the same way for years.

My Ghana fund goal has been met, and I still have a few months to save more. I’m thinking the more will be seed money for my next trip wherever. It has to be somewhere I’ve never been, and it can’t be continental Europe. I’m actually leaning toward Madagascar or Malta, but I think I’d do better with my money in Madagascar so Malta may be beyond my financial status.

I may not have time to post tomorrow as it is the multicultural fair day, and I usually help man the Peace Corps table so don’t worry if I’m missing!

“Sunday is the core of our civilization, dedicated to thought and reverence.”

October 6, 2015

We have anomalies today, and I haven’t quite interpreted their meanings. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. What do these heavenly signs portend? Might they be heralding the end of time and the destruction of all we know and hold dear? Or might this be just a sunny day, and I’m over-reacting?

My neighbor brought me dinner last night. I dined on rice, chicken and an okra dish, the best okra I’ve ever had with not a bit of the slime I’d come to associate with okra. That was a vegetable I didn’t even know existed until Africa where I ate okra soup many times the slime notwithstanding. I’m now adding okra to my list of favorite vegetables.

My brother had the job of emptying the baskets into the barrels kept in the cellar until trash day. It was his only job. I didn’t have a job though sometimes I’d set or clear the table if asked. I think boys and trash were a natural pairing when I was a kid. Back then girls had a certain behavior protocol which didn’t include trash. Any kitchen work was appropriate. Girls also had a stricter dress code than boys. I had to wear a dress or a skirt going to church which also meant I had to wear nice shoes and socks and a hat. I always felt over-dressed, and I was never one for prissy. My brother wore a collared shirt and nice pants. That was it. I envied him the casualness of his Sunday clothing.

Now that I look back, I liked having a Sunday. Every other day of the week was filled with school, playtime, movies, bike riding, watching TV and the so many other fun things we did to pack our days. Sunday was truly a day of rest. We were expected to stay around the house. We had that great family Sunday dinner. It was always special, not the usual fare. The one constant was mashed potatoes.

Sunday has lost its identity. That’s too bad as we all need to stop to take a breath, look around and be amazed at all we can see. Sunday used to be that day. It was special. I even wore a dress.