The Follow Up that wasn't

At the end of my last post (if you canremember that far back) I mentioned a host of future posts. My head was spinning with ideas and not enough time for my fingers to express them all. Good thing this is a written and not oral venue or my fingers expressions could take a whole new meaning, eh?


The snow is piled high and I have no (urgent) need to leave the house today. I perused that list of ideas and though it brought a smile, no real story began to flow. Time must have rested my creative juices on those. I did crack a little gigggle at the Grandma kicks butt story though. How can you not love an 82 year old family matriarch that responds to questions with a sarcastic wit you thought had been stolen by her years and struggles. Ordinary conversastion can be difficult at best thanks to the devil that took her word retrieval, but ask her to comment on Christmas dinner or her desire for a cocktail and you might want to put on some body armour. I can only imagine the zingers that would have flown if we had had that bottle of bitters needed to make her a Manhattan.
She is one fantastic lady. The mark she has left on my life is deep and passionate. How lucky I am to have her. If I ever figure out how to extract some photos from the slideshow dvd of her 90th, I wills hare them here. It is chocked full of great ones.
So, I must move on with my day. The usual litany of bitchwork that with any glimmer of hope will be peppered with some jewelry creating. We will live with what we have in house becasue I am just not trekking to the grocery in this weather. Sledding hill maybe, grocery on a Saturday in a snowstorm, I think not. If push comes to shove maybe those meanagers of mine will hike to the Polish store for milk or bread.
If you too are looking for a diversion, you can always stop by etsy for the SNSs sale tonight too. I will have a few secrets to give away for the cost of shipping only as well as a great discount on my entire shop. There will be a multitude of other shops doing the same, so stop on bye and say hi! Mention you read about it here and get free shipping on your order.

Crimson Soles and Crimson Linings

There's only one thing that brings to mind. I believe it to be the greatest story ever read (to me, that is). I remember that little Golden Book, cracked at the spine, pages loosening from the binding, corners tattered. It didn't matter, that just showed how loved that book was.
The memory of crawling up in my Grandmother's lap and listening to the story of tigers, tail to mouth, holding crimson umbrellas and wearing pants, filled with greed and jealousy until the run themselves int o melted butter will stay with me long after the pancakes are gone. She never tired of reading that one and I never tired of hearing it.
I think it's a shame that the story of Little Black Sambo has been banned or at least the name has been changed and the wording made more politically correct. The same with the stories of Unclie Remus. Every child should hear the story of Brer rabbit and the Tar Baby. they should have the joy of seeing Johnny smile as he laughs through the lafin' Place in Song of the South.
I don;t believe banning these things will change history or a single persons mind. These stories are not what fuel racism and predjudice. To act as if they never existed will never make it so.
Instead, share them, celebrate them and learn from them. they are stories of friendship, love, problem solving and courage. they are stories of wisdom, acceptance and childhood innocence. What's so wrong with that? And what;s so wrong with the title? At the time that story was written, people were referred to as black. To change the name, again, does not change the fact of the time. We should not forget our past, or rewrite it. We should learn from it. History forgotten is bound to be repeated.

What brings me to this soap box, you may ask? Well, memories of my grandmother are always welcomed and enjoyed. As she approaches her 92nd year in frail condition, I find myself thinking of her and our time together more and more often. I know it is borrowed time and I cherish it. I don;t see her enough and I talk to her less. It seems the phone calls make matters worse by confusing her, and so I try to be kind and not exasperate the situation. It doesn't mean I don;t think of her every day. I thank God that I am blessed with memories and lessons and the love only she can give. I am thankful that my boys know that love and joy also. How lucky they are to havve had so many years with a great grandmother to love them.
so, truth be told, there was no soap box. tangent thinking, definitely, but not really a soap box.
You see, I made these today.


They seem to have opened the flood gate of tigers and pancakes and grandmothers and censorship and life. Wow, that's some pair of earrings!