Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Missing Jesse's Family
I have 21 sons, ages 9-29, and only one daughter-in-law, Lena, pictured here. She and Jesse live way the heck up north with their darling son, Isiah, and not that I'm counting or anything, but I've not seen them in four long months.
I did get permission to use this obviously copyrighted picture, I thought it was perfect.
I'd argued with my own mom like a child yesterday, she needed to get somewhere that I couldn't take her to, due to another appointment, and I was fussing royally about it, telling her I didn't want the deputies to have to come get me to go tend to her.
Sure enough, yet I say, "Sho' nuff," I pulled up into my driveway a couple of hours later to find two squad cars sitting there, and two deputies leaning and talking to each other. I nearly burst into tears of fright, but one called out quickly, upon seeing my very stricken face, "Don't worry Cindy, it's nothing."
Why are two cars here?
I was shaking like a leaf and aging fast.
My greatest fear is having them come here to tell me bad news.
Turns out there was an incident up at the high school that I'd already worked through last week with one of my kids. I went from scared to irked in about two seconds and asked them to run up to the schoolhouse with me, let's get this kid out of class, and straighten it out, which we did. The kid went from a suspect to a witness.
"He didn't do it," one deputy snapped his notebook shut in conclusion.
"I've seen Cindy toss a room before," the other deputy backed me up firmly, which led the administrator to verbally backpedal, stressing he knew if he got me involved in the first place, he was positive I'd tend to it.
The bottom line was that this was an honest kid, not one of my usual suspects. He told his side of the story clearly and both deputies believed him. More importantly was the fact that I believed him. He's gotta live with me.
I'm the kind of mom who'll call the deputies about thefts, drugs, assaults and other crimes.
During all this, I was getting called from the middle school, plus a deputy got a call from his supervisor, knowing he was with me, "Tell Cindy to have Chuck call me," which I knew was in regards to the Veterans Memorial at the park. Lord Have Mercy, let me tend to one thing at a time.
I got myself calmed down, checked with the middle school, and was supremely relieved to learn it was only in reference to scheduling yet another 504 meeting, rather than an event, or an incident I'd need to handle.
It was already one in the afternoon, the psychiatrist appointments had taken all morning, then this, returned calls, no garden time, I needed to grocery shop and cook dinner, pick kids up from various tutoring times, plus a soccer evaluation.
That thing, that pyogenic granuloma, is reappearing on Nando's neck, gotta call his doctor about that, and make an appointment, and the temperatures were predicted to fall between 34-39 degrees last night.
I have about six different bookmarked weather sites on my phone and on my laptop, averaging them out, I just couldn't take a chance and leave my thriving plants in the greenhouse all night, couldn't risk losing two months spectacular growth, so Martin, Scotty and I drug 'em all in for the night, I now have 13 trays going, just of peppers, tomatoes and eggplants.
From my vantage point, my eyes looking out at the world, I still feel young and energetic, maybe more energy driven than ever before. Yet, the reality is when I look in a mirror, I'm very taken aback, blown away by the sight of the old lady staring back at me in surprise. All those eye wrinkles and smile lines? Those are mine?
When'd that happen?
The past 30 years have zipped by like the wind.
My peer group, friends from my very young days, are starting to hit 60, how is that even possible?
My kids don't treat me like I'm old, no deference to age around here, they certainly expect me to run strong, do it all, take care of everything, and I do so. Truly, age has been a blessing, mellowing me out a little bit, a teeny tiny bit.
Today I need to finish planting potatoes, get the seed flats back outside, run to Sarah's so she can help me convert Quicken from a PC to a Mac, take the recycling, vacuum the family room, wash the laundry, get all the trash up to the bin for tomorrow's pick-up, and I promised Sabrina I'd cook her favorite, linguine with clam sauce, sauteing garlic and peppers I'd preserved, tomatoes from last season's garden along with my own oregano and FHPS.
Sometimes my jars of dried herbs, powders and supplements remind me of an apothecary of old.
Sometimes I just don't have time to sit and eat supper, dashing around the kitchen like a dervish, I'd eaten a baked sweet potato from my garden last night, just a little real butter and sea salt, I have some left over for my breakfast today and I can't wait to eat it. Clearly I'm obsessed.