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Musings from the Laundromat: Simple pleasures & silver trolleys edition

It has been a perfect morning.

I walked into the laundromat today with happy in my heart and relaxed in my step.  ‘Midnight Train to Georgia’ was playing on the laundromat’s radio.  I greeted the lady who works behind the counter – noticing her bright pink top.  “Hi” I said, “I like your top!”  “Thank you” she smiled.

She walked away with a hint of a smile still on her lips as I grabbed my cash card with the yellow wrist coil.  I always pick yellow if it’s available.

I loaded five dollars onto the card and toted my laundry over to my favorite machines.

And here I sit at my favorite spot about to share my morning with you.

I’m reading an amazing book ‘The Glass Castle’ by Jeannette Walls.  My friend Betty gave it to me to borrow last week.


I love that I have friends who enjoy a good book.  I love the fact that they think of me when they’re finished with that same book.

I woke at 7 this morning.  I slept in.  After making a pot of coffee and letting the dog outside, I crawled back into bed to read.

A little while later, after retrieving a cup of the freshly brewed coffee, feeding the dog and laying back down on my bed – Nic appeared in my room.

“Hey” I said, as I let my book holding arm flop down onto the bed.

He joined me and rested his head on my chest.  I put my free arm around him, patting his back.

We lay there, quietly, as he blinked at the wall.

“What are you thinking about?”

“The words on the painting … looks like it says Edward Woot”

I shifted my gaze to the painting as he continued,, “I think it is Woot”.


We both knew it wasn’t.  But we considered the painting until we were joined by the dog.

“Aw!  Now the whole family is here!”  I said.

We focused our quiet gazes on Butters.  Then back to nothing.  Just enjoying the moment.

Not a thing was lost on me.  I held carefully and quietly in my heart the following thoughts, not wanting them to disappear.

I held the gratitude that my son still looks for me in the morning.  That he likes me and wants to have a moment with me.  I held the joy that we were both looking at a painting together – one he gave me for Christmas – that we both appreciate art.  I savored the fact that I was holding a book – that I get such immense pleasure from reading.  I was grateful for my ‘boy’ in my arms and my dog at our feet.

I digested everything about that moment – while managing to stay in it.

Our silence gave way to laughter when Butters started nibbling on her leg and I announced it was obviously bath day.

By the look of the sky, I needed to take care of that quickly.  The clouds outside were grey and looked heavy with rain.  I suggested to Nic that we could just pour her shampoo over her and put her out when the rain began.

I got up instead and carried my 70 pound, hairy, leg nibbling manatee into the tub.


What began as a bath for Butters gave way to cleaning – I threw myself into the task, taking the large rug from the kitchen outside so I could wash the floor.  Of course, Nic took that opportunity to make himself something to eat.  His timing is impeccable.  I worked around him – so very grateful to have a kitchen to clean. And too grateful for the food and my son to be annoyed by his timing.

Satisfied with the clean dog, the clean house and my fed and occupied son I took my turn in the tub.  So grateful for the soothing stream of water on my back.

I’ll be making a small pork roast today – and enjoying my son in between his games and the book in between time with my son.

And speaking of that book – the friend that loaned it to me finished a particularly difficult book this morning (due to the content.)  She commented to me:

“By the way, I finished the horrible one I was reading this a.m.  I had to see how it ended and be done with it.  I learned a grocery cart in Great Britain is a trolley.  I was trying to find some lil gems in it to get through it :)”

I love that she said that. That’s what we do isn’t it?  Look for the gems when things are tough?  Well it’s what we should do.

I replied to her:

“There’s always a silver trolley if you look hard enough.”


Musings from the Laundromat – Giving and Receiving

First I’d like to thank Butters for only waking me up 4 times in the night.

Then, I would like to thank my weekend alarm (set when Nic was still a young school boy, you know … a few weeks ago) that went off at 2:16 am.


It had been set for something he was going to that I had to wake him up for. What was it?? … I can’t think of it.

Anyway, in trying to turn off said alarm, I:

1) woke the rare sleeping dog

2) knocked my phone off of the nightstand, and

3) sent my glass of kiwi-watermelon drink flying – only to land in between the bed and the wall.  A nice tight space for cleaning up.

I don’t know if that is the actual flavor by the way … I’m guessing based on the portion of my carpet that is now a lovely kiwi-watermelon color.

Heard my son up several times in the night too – and when I left the house this morning, he was rocking moves like Jagger.


A sleeping Jagger, but moving like him none the less.

Speaking of moves, yesterday I modeled a dress for a good cause.  CASA is a program that benefits abused and neglected children in the area.


It was a lot of fun to meet the other models and attendees.  

It was also a little hilarious to be half-naked getting ready in a room closed off from the event, whilst facing a huge, wall sized window facing the river.

I don’t think any of us really cared.  The people going by on their jet skis probably were going by too fast to notice.  (Not sure about the people on the beach.)

I noticed some things though.  

I noticed that I didn’t have the fears I had in my 20’s or 30’s to stand in a slip and a bra in public view.  

And I noticed that I thought the other ladies,  in all shapes and sizes were beautiful.  Just as they were.

They were even more beautiful to me because of why they were there.  Women giving their time, wanting to do what they could to help such an amazing non-profit organization.

I refer to my growth again as a lot of things are changing.  44 has been pretty amazing so far. 

It’s so wonderful to be comfortable in my skin, comfortable in my head and full of hope and joy and promise. 

Life is amazing.  And if you’re patient enough, and do the next right thing, it turns out life has gifts you didn’t even know were coming.

I’m still processing  this.

But, as someone very special to me said recently, it is nice to sometimes  receive after all the time we gave. 

Yet, I can never forget that there is nothing worth receiving unless I keep giving.

From stare to pounce and church mousin’


I am tired.

I am tired and actually wondered if there is a nice family with a farm somewhere, with miles of soft fenced in grass for Butters to run and pounce in – and wi-fi so my son will visit her.

9pm is ‘official’ bedtime in our house.  Meaning, the Goodnight sleep tights are said – hugs are had and we hit our rooms.

Usually about 9:30 or 10 is when I switch off the tv or call it a night and let my Nook rest.

Then it begins.

From approximately 10-11 I’m scratching, tossing, turning and peeking at the clock.  No, for the record – no bed bugs – it’s dry out here in the desert and with the heater on in the house I have an itchy epidermis that presents  only at night – I need some of those little baby mittens:

noscratchmittensYeah, those will do nicely.  I’d save the polka dots for the weekend – put some zazz in my Z’s.

Anyway – last night the dog was actually sleeping … good sign. 

Midnight.  I hear a noise in the kitchen.  Someone trying to be quiet in the kitchen.  Hmmm … process of elimination.

1) Only two other breathing things live here other than me

2) Butters is not capable of being quiet would not be the kitchen


I’ve coined the phrase ‘Church mousing’.  Don’t ask me why – considering the church mouse is supposed to be quiet.  But, it works around here.  I’ll hear him usually scrounging around and call out ‘I hear you church mousin’ around out there!’  To which a laugh and response of ‘Good night mom’ is followed by him taking his foraged items back to his room.

But midnight?  Midnight snack yeah – but he had school today for crying out loud.

I spend another 15 minutes trying to get comfy. 

1am – another noise from the kitchen. 

Really?  Jeez!!!!!!!  I’m too tired to get up and call him out on it, too tired to call out and frankly, a little concerned that if I respond in any way vocally or physically, my arse is not going to be able to fall back to sleep.

More tossing and turning.

2am – Butters has now evolved from her perfected ‘stare’ and thump of tail to a new move.  The front leg pounce – landing right on the 1/2 foot of mattress space between me and the edge of the bed.

Wonderful.  Sort of like this guy, but with her hind legs on the floor.


OKAY!  Up I get.  Let her out … stumble back to my room, the front door is open but I’m used to this routine by now, she’ll come back in a few minutes, plop down on the floor, or the bed and up I get again to go back to close and lock the door.

Half an hour later – pounce. 


Up I get – let her out – wait – in she comes.  Get up, shut and lock door.

God only knows how much later  – pounce (and a thump thump).

This time I’m glaring at her, quickly realize I’ve got my eyes open far too wide and walk with my eyes completely closed to the door.  (that old trick of if I don’t open my eyes, I won’t wake all the way up) Let her out and back to bed. 

I decide then and there that the door will remain open.  I weigh the pros and cons of a serial killer just waltzing in.

1) I’ll be too tired to really feel much pain

2) Maybe he can let the flipping dog out next

Pounce. Thump, thump.  I almost don’t get up.  I almost don’t.  Then I remember she had an upset stomach just this weekend and oh hell no am I going to wake up and step in something.

Up I get.

Now – the door is still open – not WIDE open, but at least 3 inches cracked open.  Even I could nose a door completely open with 3 inches to work with!!!  She’s screwing with me now.

Out she goes again.

My mind is mush – my body begging for some REM.  Back to bed I go, but it’s too late.

I startle at 5:55 am – after a brief slip into unconsciousness and give up.  The alarm is set to go off at 6.

You can imagine the mood I’m in. 

BUT!  I had already planned to cook Nic a hot breakfast.  Eggs and maple sausages.  Because, and I quote “I love it at Tylers house, his mom makes maple sausages and pancakes”

I think I responded at the time with a “Pffft” but of course it stuck in my mind.

I make the damn food.

Take it in to my child.

Grab my coffee and check Facebook.


My son’s last post “5 hours ago”.  It’s now 6.  Which means, he didn’t just wake up and need a drink or a snack.  His arse was on his ipad.

I head to my room – brush my teeth, come back out and there – on the counter – is a plate with one egg and 4 1/2 out of 5 sausages. 


“Why didn’t you eat your breakfast?” 

“I’ve never liked sausages … you know that.”


Anyone have a farm with a fenced in expanse of soft grass? Never mind the dog and the boy – I want to come sleep on it.

A Christmas letter from my son

I’m sharing with you the unedited letter my son put on the computer for me from his flash drive this Christmas morning. He’d been working on it for months. I cried my eyes out reading it.  (Good thing I can touch type).  The best Christmas gift ever!  It’s obviously very personal – and precious, but I haven’t held back yet, and don’t intend to.   This is after all the Web Log (bLog) of my life.  With Nic’s permission, I am posting his letter.


Dear mom:


 I don’t even really know how to start this letter but I guess I can do it by: Your one of the most amazing human beings I know. Your so strong and raised me better than I could of asked for.  Even when you drank you never looked down on me or anything of the sort. Even though I was little, you still saw me as a equal and never miss treated me (even though you would let me roll off the bed now and again wink). You are an amazing parent period, and you say I don’t appreciate you. Well, you have no idea how wrong that notion is. I appreciate you soooo much. I must agree with you, I don’t show it. I don’t show it at all and I don’t now why, my best excuse is im lazy XD. But I do, I do so much and all the kindness you have shown to me will be passed down from me to everyone I meet and to my children.


 You are the reason im going to be the best Dad I can be when I get little ones and official make you an old grandma ;). I was thinking the whole time that lottery was going on, I thought no one deserved it more, but because your such a kind soul you would disagree with me XD. But seriously, your such an amazing, kind, beautiful, funny, and smart person and human being. It is a honor just to know you and anyone who has ever met you met the most amazing people in there life. I know work is hard and you have your heart condition and more and you still go. You than take a second job where your cleaning and you still push through it. Thats just a few reasons why your such a great human being. You mean everything to me and we think alike on the spot and we can always share a laugh. Another thing is even when im being a hard person to deal with, your there, you will always ask whats wrong and your so accepting (another amazing quality) and I will always love you.


 I can be really selfish and If I were you, I would of kicked my ass out of the house the moment I turned 18 XD. But yet you say I can stay even after that age. You put up with so much. From me taking the car, to asking for money out of the blue, from just taking the couch when you wanted it. Im not perfect I know this for a fact, but its you who makes me feel accepted and so loved when I have this quite a few flaws. I love you as high as my arms can reach, over the hills and back, and to the moon. Your my parent, nurturer, my best friend, cleaner upper, cook, doctor,  and counselor. Your MY Mom. Thank you for existing and being in my life.



       Love with all of the love in the world:


           Your friend, adoring fan, helper, listener, shower, and Son.

                                Nicholas Avery Charles