Dreams

This just might be the future site of a very, eclectic, funky, comfy bookstore in downtown Shreveport, Louisiana. It would be owned and ran by two very cool, middle-aged women who don't know that they are middle-aged, yet. Me and my BFF.

We have a name for the store, which I don't want to divulge yet, for fear that one of my thousands of readers will take the name and open up their own bookstore with this incredibly, cool name. This month, we're going to begin to do some number-crunching and research on inventory. We also have a visit to a little mom and pop bookstore on the riverfront in Natchitoches planned, about an hour away, in early February. Hopefully, the owners will let us pick their brains. Natchitoches also happens to be the home to one of my favorite writers, Kate Chopin, so while I'm there, I plan to visit the plantation on which she lived.

There's a lot to do but that's part of the dream, right?

We see the store as being like someone's living room. Comfortable chairs and couches in cozy corners, warm lighting and plush, colorful rugs, a diverse selection of books, and of course, barrels of coffee beans. We also want it to be a home for local artists, a place to display and sell their work. And maybe, not so local artists...like my other BF, Diahn and her BF, Linda, both of whom reside in Knoxville, Tennessee. Well, Diahn, currently resides in Washington, DC, but still holds a permanent address in Knoxville. She's complicated that way.

This particular site is two doors down from the new Robinson Film Center, one of my favorite new places in town, a small theatre that shows Independent Films. And across the street is the Artspace.

My downtown. I've always loved it but, the powers that be, have never made it easy for new businesses to open up and thrive. It's strange...there's so much history and beauty there that I can't imagine why local government is so stifling. I'm sure it has to with money. Everything does. So stupid.

Maybe it's time for a couple of middle-aged book lovers to get involved and try to change the face of our downtown.

This looks like a job for Thelma and Louise.

Are veggies still good for you if they're drunk?

Creative everyday...hmmm. I think I'm creative everyday, in some way or another. Financially, I can be very creative. I'm creative in my marriage. Come on, you have to be. Creative in my mothering skills, also a given. Most of all, I think I'm creative in time-management and task-juggling. Again, I have to be in order to get everything done in the 24 hours allotted. But, those things aren't exactly blog worthy. No more than my previous weather stint. By the way, Saturday is was 80 degrees and by Sunday at noon, 42. We're all sick.

So you might ask, how were you creative today, Melinda? Well, I'll tell you.

I made Drunken Leeks.

Not bad, but I need to tweek the recipe a little for my taste. Also, I don't think it was a very pretty dish. It sort of looked like, well, something someone had partially digested, tainted with red Kool-Aid. Appropriate I guess, for any dish with the word "Drunken" in the title, huh?

I wonder what the judges on Top Chef would think?

Tomorrow, a picture of my tatoo for Linda.

Hey, I have to start somewhere.

The Grinch, not such a bad guy

Christmas is over.

And I'm officially sick of it. I have had a nice Christmas this year, as far as my stress level goes. Things are good with my family and I have much to be grateful for, and I am grateful. Very grateful.

However, I have noticed a lack of gratitude with my daughters this year. Part of it is that they are teenagers and part of it is that I think they have been overindulged this past year. This is the first year that they've done nothing, absolutely nothing, for anyone else. Well, there was that one night this week that they both babysat for me while I went to see a movie with a friend. I made it through the whole movie without one phone call or text. How nice. Found out today that the reason for that was because they were busily unwrapping and re-wrapping each and every present under the tree.
That explains the stench of disappointment that hung in the air when they finished opening their gifts this morning. Stinky.

Tomorrow, I think I'll drag the tree, ornaments and lights and all, down to the curb. I want it out of my house! I realize you can't left the selfishness of others spoil your Christmas, but it's not just that. I am sick of the commercialism and the pressure that Christmas brings. Isn't that the opposite of what it's supposed to be about? Or do we even truly remember what it's supposed to be about? I'm not sure I do, honestly. I get caught up in it just like everyone else does. But why in the hell should we focus on love and relationships and giving this one time of the year? Shouldn't it be this way all year long? Wouldn't it mean more if we did? No lights, no reason, just because? And let's face it, I know we who are Christians say it's about the birth of Christ but it isn't really, not anymore, if it ever was.

It's about a whole lot of expectations to make everything perfect which is completely unrealistic. And when it's not perfect, there's a tremendous letdown. Because life isn't perfect. It's messy, unpredictable and the beauty comes in everyday, mundane life. It comes in the things that surprise you, the moments that you don't plan for. It comes without boxes, ribbons or bows, thank you very much, Mr. Grinch.

Every year, I realize, I have this competition with myself to make this "the best Christmas ever!" and I always lose. Because my emphasis is on the wrong thing. The almighty dollar. Screw that. This year, my son is back with us, laughing, being the life of every room, because that's who he is. He makes us laugh. He's whole again.

And my daughters will eventually get over the disease known as teenagerism. They're good at heart, I just need to get them back to the basics.

And then there is Mr. Wapkaplet...sweetest boy on the planet. Loves unconditionally and easily, smiles constantly and hugs and kisses freely. He and Jess were the Christmas spirit this year, they kept me grounded amidst the commercial carnage.

Next year, I think I might skip Christmas. Or at least, do my best to experience an alternative Christmas. One that only gives in ways that have absolutely nothing to do with money. Especially for the sake of my girls, who seem to have lost their way a little bit this past year.

Please, dear reader, remind me of that next year when I start stressing about finances and Christmas lists. Let me rewrite that, christmas lists. I'm not even going to capitalize it anymore. Seriously.

So here's to the next holiday in line, New Year's! A drinking man, or woman's, holiday! A philosopher's holiday, a time for reflection and having fun.

Perfect.

Boring Blog Award Winner 2008

No wonder I can't get any traffic on my blog...I'm boring and talk a lot about the weather. The Weatherwoman. Today is a sticky 64 degrees outside with the possibility of thunderstorms. Humidity, 100%. That's right, we're in for another good ole' muggy, Louisiana Christmas!

Laissez les bon temps roulet!

Those Summer Days

It's hard to imagine that there was a day this warm, only 3 1/2 months ago. This winter, especially for us warm-blooded Louisianians, has been especially harsh. Last night, the low was 23 degrees. Unbelievable.

Usually, by December 22, we've had a few cold nights in the 40's and a few cold snaps that lasted a couple of days and then, back up to the 60's and even 70's. But this year, the norm has been cold, cold, cold and only a few warm spells.

The good news is, it's nice for the Christmas season. The bad news is, our cars are dying. Just this month, I had to replace my radiator, one of my employees blew up the engine in his truck, and my husband's work truck is overheating. I know, I know. I can't blame it on the frigid temps. But maybe, just maybe, our cars are used to warm weather and the cold weather is just too much for them. Maybe we aren't feeding them enough anti-freeze.

And Christmas is three days away. Funny, every year, I make a promise to myself to focus on family and not the negative. I mean, really, life doesn't stop with all of it's conflicts and problems just because it's Christmas, right? And every year, it's as if I'm tested on my promise. I just got my car out of the shop last week and poof!...there went my Christmas bonus. And now Robert's car is overheating.

But so what? I think I'm getting the hang of this. Those things, and the mounting pile of bills, are just that...things, distractions. They do not represent my life.

I hope everyone that I know and love enjoys this joyous season. And, hey, nothing wrong with looking forward to warmer, summer days when we can get together again and laze around in a pool somewhere...or a lake...maybe a puddle.

Your Majesty, Himself

Just
because
he's cute.

Just
because
I
miss
summer.

Just
because
I
finally
have
a new laptop and I can!

This Boy's Life

If you read the previous post, you know that my best friend is at the beginning of a hard road with her teenage son. Things progressed from bad to worse over the weekend. The good news is that she is going to be fine. Although emotionally bruised and battered two days ago, I have watched her each day slowly gain the strength and wisdom that she needs to face this. She's like that.

As for her son, everyone is hoping that three nights locked up in the juvenille detention center might be the thing that causes him to wake up. Only time will tell.

On a totally opposite note, I am coming out on the other side of a five year slide with my oldest child, my only son. It makes me want to cry.

We spent the whole day together yesterday. We are at the beginning of a brand new relationship. One where I get to be the parent to my grown-up child. Strange but so, so cool. He is different. Thoughtful, positive, considerate and he listens. My son, the constant talker, LISTENS.

He surprised me yesterday with two tickets to "Songs of the Season", a local, holiday, musical extravaganza that plays every year at the downtown historical theatre, The Strand. For the entire first hour, I fought back tears of joy. Because one year ago, today, if anyone had told me where Jesse would be today, I wouldn't have believed them. I would not have believed that we would be sitting together, holding hands, at a Christmas musical that celebrates the birth of Christ. I would not have believed that as we walked up three flights of red-carpeted stairs in this beautiful place, that he would be on my left hand side, his strong hand gently on my back, for support and guidance. My son...supporting me. Or that at the end of the night, as I drove him home, he would say,

"Mom, I had so much fun with you tonight. Thank you for being my date. Let's make this a Christmas tradition, me and you, every year."
I am grateful beyond words.