Wedding gowns? How in the name of all I hold dear did these asses get wedding gowns out of my recent rant on shrinks, prescription drug addictions, my us & downs through 12 Step programs and assorted other issues? Perhaps I can give them a referral to their own therapists .
I am getting married….I’ll do it until I get it right…but I neither write about that nor do I discuss wedding plans. Please! This is as much as I’ll say…the gown will be red. Yes, red…I’ve gotten married in biker gear, hippie attire and elopement day dress casual, so I am having the wedding of my choice & I will wear a wedding gown-red. That is all I will say on the subject…for now.
I began blogging as a way to hone my writing skills, put my secret passion out there to the world and share in the joys that other bloggers tell me they find. I was so gung-ho, thought I could commit to writing a little something daily and take the advice of my gently nudging family members to share my “gift”. I did NOT start this as a place to kvetch about my daily health challenges or rant about the providers who cannot own up to my challenges being beyond their scope. I would be lying if I said that some of my posts have been cathartic for me and have garnered some excellent feedback from others., but that is not all there is to my life.
Most of my writing takes place when most of the Western Hemisphere is sound asleep. I could pop one of those pills mentioned in my earlier post but I find the quiet of these hours the most productive for me. I catch up on the posts I most enjoy and admire. I study the wide variety of WordPress information to improve on what I do. In between, I marvel at the selection of late-night television: Cheaters; some dating show whose one redeeming quality is the snarky hostess; infomercials for every conceivable piece of useless crap to suit any compulsive shopper or hoarders’ taste…using the word “taste” loosely. While I am still excited and eager to pursue my blog, I find myself at a loss for topics or my normally easily accessed sense of humor to be AWOL. I’m sure I’m not alone in this dilemma. I began this as an exercise in overcoming fear, now the fear has dissipated and been replaced by a blank brain.
I come from a huge Scot-Irish family in the Red Hook area of Brooklyn, NY. Humor was the order of the day as well as a necessity if one was to survive. On my Dad’s side, Nana was the matriarch & , I suspect, developed her sense of humor having more siblings than most have extended family. She went on to have her own family in the double digits, mostly male. My mother referred to the family sense of humor as morbid & weird…I thought it hysterical but, then again, I inherited it. My cousins & I agree that it is genetic and although we are from all walks of life now, that fact hasn’t changed. Even though my Dad’s siblings went on to have small to average size families, there are still vast numbs of cousins. We have re-united over the years and share many memories, both good and not so much. We all seem to have learned from our elders mistakes and treat each other with respect, joy and laughter. Laughter was key…especially at family get-togethers which could have taken up a stadium. My grandmother, in her old age, would bellow out the names of 3 or 4 sons before shouting, “One of you sons o’ bitches, bring me….” ,fill in the blank. Yeah, she grew a bit testy in her old age but given her tough life, her recognized heroism in WW II and her losses over the years, she was entitled to a beer and a mood swing. I later regretted not getting to know more about her while she was still here…..other than this odd & crabby old lady. Her children were varied in personality & likability. Now that they’re all gone, we are free to laugh at their eccentricities; acknowledge the asses and mourn for the sadder ones.
I, being the mystery & the traveler, am re-acquainting myself with my cousins. I share the true story of my vanishing in my teens, the secrets that were kept and accept that some would have been there for me had they known. In many ways, I am happy that they didn’t lest I miss out on my incredible journey. I am also grateful that a weird decision to check out Ancestry.com led me to one cousin, then another and now many are back in my life. There is no judgement about my wild ride, my differences or anything else. In many ways, it is as though no time passed at all & for this I am grateful.
It is a long way from our ancestral home in Scotland, where we were & remain, landed gentry to Red Hook, where we were working class, tight-knit Scot-Irish in a neighborhood of equally hard-working families.
I, for one, want to know who took us from the comforts of that life to the trials of this. I may be no lady in the traditional sense of the word, but if I am a Lady in the noble sense, then let it be so. I can marry in the Clan Castle, red dress the subject of public gossip and my questionable past the topic of television wannabe docs, like Dr. Phil. I challenge him to take this group to task.And to you spammers, keep trying. I may be a newbie at this but I am not a moron…spam blockers on WordPress are here for a reason and do the job quite well.