I *heart* Mom

             Everyday I miss the lady.  Much.   I'd give anything for a hug.

Zombie Jo

                                                             How I feel after I've poured a bowl of cereal, only to find out there is no milk!

Lake Trash, Fishing, Jefferson, Angels, Death, Garbage Truck, Mom... (I think the technical term for what takes place in my head is called Associated Looseness)

My goal in life is to grow old and be Lake Trash.   Is that too much to ask?  I want to walk out my back door and drown a worm while sitting under a tree.    We go to Crips camp often.   And enjoy our self and getting to see friends.  But... there were a lot of folks there this weekend.   Took away from the relaxing part of our weekend.  You can't rent peace and quiet. 

Ron and I enjoyed our time there (despite the sometimes crowd)  We caught bream, saw friends, visited Jefferson, TX and I took a lot of pictures.  We visited a cemetery in Jefferson and I was in heaven (pun intended).   There were beautiful angel monuments everywhere.   By the time I inspected the beautiful face of one, another would catch my eye.   There is just something so special about these hand carved memorials.   The people long gone that bought them to memorialize those that came before them.   I love the bit of dark marble they use in the angel's eyes to form the iris.  And angel feet... always barefoot...   Always one foot stretched.    One was a little girl, a toddler.   

Ironic, I love memorials so much, but I want to be cremated. So does my husband.    I have no special requests... or at least I didn't.  Always figured you can mix me with clay and make me into an ash tray for all I care.   But my husband said the most romantic thing to me the other day.   :)  He wants to mix our ashes.    Seriously.. can ya get any more romantic than that?   I think not!   We plan to keep the other's ashes and when the survivor passes... have them mixed together (Ryan, this will be your job).    A mixtures of his & hers.    That is TRUE love.   My husband wants them to go in the Atchafalaya Basin (Also your job Ryan).   Death will imitate life... I always tell him, " I do what you do".    Let me just add though....that I will be furious if I'm the one that goes first, he remarries and my ashes end up in a garbage truck.   ( Like how I went from the lake to Jefferson to death to being thrown in a garbage truck?  I know... it's a gift.  HA!)   And no Honey... we can't all three be mixed together.     I know, every man's fantasy, right?  

I dusted Mom the other day.   Her ashes sit on a table in the foyer (or as we plain folk call it, the doorway) area.   I have to take them where she wanted to go.  I don't look at the urn and cry or anything.  It's the actual "letting go" and the act of taking the ashes out there that has me procrastinating.    Surely Mom would have understood and not minded spending a bit of time on the shelf overlooking her daughter's living room.   I used Pledge.  If you're curious.  To dust the urn.  It's wood.  

I'll need a look out, while I spread the ashes. This could include a cute bright orange jumpsuit!!!    Any takers?



(just an added note: if you google anything with the word "looseness" in it... you'll find interesting data on bowels, vaginas and such,..)