This morning when I woke up, I dressed, ran by Starbucks for a cup of coffee and hit the grocery store.  In all my cooking last week, food had gone bad in the fridge and I had run out of some essentials like bread, fresh greens for the guinea pig, and fresh berries.  I have a meeting with a new client today, rescheduled from the middle of the week.

I called my father from the store to check on him.

He was up, had fed the cats and had begun a load of laundry.  We discussed the eating habits of his (very spoiled) inside cat, who consumes two or three cans of Fancy Feast a day as well as some impending work he needs done on his back.  We also discussed our schedules of the day, and included in his was his plan to begin washing all of the drapes, sheets, blankets, etc in the house – a spring cleaning that had been delayed because of my mom’s illness.

“That’s at least six or seven loads of laundry, Daddy.”

“Yep.  I know,” he said.  ” I need to keep busy.”

Yeah.  That’s where I got it from.

It doesn’t surprise me from him at all.  I think I got a bit of my work-a-holic work ethic from him.  And after hearing him and his three sisters talking yesterday, it surprises me less.

My father is one of four children born during the depression to a farmer.  When my father was eight, they were able to have a big enough place to require a tractor and have six milk cows.  His two older sisters were assigned to tend to the cows, and reported milking all six cows each morning before they would have breakfast and get ready for school.  My father began doing more than just tending crops with his dad – he starting working  on the tractor about that time.

Everyone deals differently.  I know we are all going to have moments when we crash and burn and completely fall apart.

But in the middle, I’m just going to keep busy.   Like father, like daughter.

Mary Beth Sprinkle, 74, went home to be with her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, on Wednesday, June 2, 2010. Service: 10 a.m. Friday in Blessing Colonial Chapel in Mansfield. Interment: Mansfield Cemetery. Visitation: 6 to 8 p.m. Thursday at the funeral home.

via Mary Beth Sprinkle Obituary: View Mary Sprinkle’s Obituary by Star-Telegram.

There is also another copy here.

I am sharing with those of you who stop by here, but also so that I will remember to go back and look at both guest books and print out any comments for my father.  He doesn’t have a computer…

It’s been a longish day.  I’m almost thinking that the night of visitation is longer than the day of the funeral.

I want to thank everyone who has taken time to send me emails, tweets, direct messages, facebook messages, etc.   When you do a large portion of your work on the web, and travel another portion of your work life, the in-person support isn’t as plentiful….and  the virtual support is more appreciated than you can know.

It’s time for bed.  One more day of extended family and the friends of my parents…

Originally called “Decoration Day”, origins are traced back to the Civil War and the activities of Southern Women decorating graves. The first official observation, though, was May 30, 1868. In 1971, Memorial Day was declared a National Holiday by Congress, who established not May 30, but the last Monday in May as the official date.

In some ways, it feels odd to be in the DFW area instead of the DC area, as I have been blessed to spend Memorial Day in DC for four of the past six years. I was in DC last week, though, and was able to spend some time at The Navy Memorial as well as Arlington National Cemetery.    Two favorite spots of mine.    Both, spaces to remember those who have given their lives in service to our Country.  Both with very personal meaning.

During the weekend, I hope you take the time to pause a moment and say a thanks to those in which we honor on Memorial Day.

(Photos are Mine, Taken Around Washington DC.  First four photos are Arlington National Cemetery.  The rest of the photos:  Navy Memorial, WWII Memorial, Korean Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, Pentagon 9/11 Memorial)

I double the batch when I make so that there is more than enough to go around…..

In a dutch oven, mix 2 cups of sugar with 2 heaping salad spoons of flour. (a salad spoon is found in your silverware drawer…not a spoon that you would eat your cereal with, but a spoon in which you would serve vegetables with…) Add 4 egg yolks and 2 cups milk. STIR over medium heat.

You will feel like you are stirring forever. You can’t turn the heat up too much or the sugar will cause the eggs to cook too quickly.

When the custard begins to pull away from the sides of the pan, remove from heat.

Add 1/2 stick of butter and 1 teaspoon of vanilla.

This is the base of any pie or pudding. For a pudding, you will add another 1/2 cup of milk to thin it out a bit….

In a bowl, put a layer of Vanilla Wafers in the bottom and add a layer of sliced bananas. Pour pudding over the layered wafers and bananas. Top with more Vanilla Wafers.

Best if refrigerated overnight.

I gave full reign to my Gypsy Soul and Workaholic Personality on my birthday:  boarded a plane at 5:45 AM and was in a meeting in Philadelphia by 12:30 and ended the day with a dinner meeting, which put me getting to bed around 1 AM.  It was a good way to spend my birthday:  working hard and sliding between decadent Frette linens at one of my favorite hotel chains at the end of a long and satisfying day.

Not the ideal day for most, but for me, it worked.  I was so thankful for the good work with a wonderful (and new) client.  A new client is a wonderful birthday gift!

The following day, I boarded a train and headed down to DC where I was able to combine work for a couple of different clients with catch-up meals with friends.   I saw a wonderful play at Ford’s Theatre with a dear friend and wound my way through a couple of exhibits at the National Portrait Gallery.   I was also able to visit a special grave at Arlington National Cemetery during my trip, something I missed on my more harried trip into DC in early April.

There is something about being on hallowed ground that allows me to reconnect with my spiritual side.

My 41st year was tumultuous and stressful.  My 42nd year will be about the continual improvement of the soul.  Under my terms.  Following my rules.  Keeping in mind that I must continue to rebuild my faith and face it with courage.

(The photo is mine, taken May 20, 2010, Arlington National Cemetery)

I confess that if you work in the service industry, it’s possible that I will thank you and call you darlin. Or accidentally bump into you, and apologize and call you sweetie. Or honey.

I don’t mean it to be offensive.

I’m Southern.

I likely cannot see your name tag. Or have failed to remember your name when you said it earlier in the day. Because I’m horrible at names at first, though I am fabulous at remembering faces and details about you and your life that you have shared.

So forgive me. Using a term of what some would see as endearment doesn’t mean anything beyond the fact that I am thankful that you are such a kind and wonderful human being. That your politeness and caring is appreciated.

That you have been a blessing to my life in that very moment when our paths crossed that day. Life is full of stress. And you have reminded me that people are good and kind and caring.

So, Thank you, darlin.

I share this because I offended not someone that I called darlin, but my mother. Who complained that I shouldn’t after calling a nurse sweetie, a radiology tech darlin, and the gal from food services honey. The nurse and I discussed the whole “darlin, sweetie, honey” thing. But my use of those words, though offensive to my mother, the observer, were not meant to be. It’s meant as a compliment. I’m being polite.

So, please forgive me if I offend you by calling you darlin. I don’t mean to.

This whole train of thought led to the Perfect Country and Western Song playing through my head all evening, and I woke up thinking about it this morning. It’s a Monday, and the perfect song to share to lighten the mood. Please be patient with the commentary from the legendary David Allan Coe.

And thank you, sweetie. I hope you have a great day. I may not call you by your name, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate what a wonderful person you are, darlin. Life is short. You’d be surprised at the number of folks who don’t thank them for a job well done.

Be sure and be thankful for the kind souls that cross your path on this Monday, ok, honey?

She has six more radiation treatments left.  It’s helping as the tumor is about half the size it was when she was diagnosed.   But.  She is down to 69 pounds.  Granted, she has always been small, standing only 5′1″, but the weight loss is beyond extreme.

I have to tell you that I have come to admire my father and love him more, if that is possible, by seeing how he is caring for my mother.   Watching him drain her chest tube today brought tears to the eyes of her nurse.  My father drains her daily, something 90% of the nurses at the hospital haven’t done.

I stayed out at the hospital for about three hours, and have promised to go back by 7 AM so that my father, who she insists needs to stay the night, can go home, feed their kitty, and shower.

The earlier part of the day was spent with my youngest as we went for schedule mini-facials from Philosophy and then lunch so that we could pre-celebrate my birthday.

It’s been a longish day and my bed is calling to me….. Much love.

Chicago, Saturday in the Park

Livingston Saturday Night, Jimmy Buffett

And simply because I’m in a (rare) Buffett mood this morning:

What’s on your playlist this morning?

When I moved blogs from my dot net to this domain, I deleted more blog posts than I imported back in.  At the time, I had felt I was making the right decision as the man I was seeing was jealous of the men in my past, some of which (The Pilot Guy specifically).   I went a little crazy after the initial export last year and deleted over 80% of my past posts.

Earlier this week, I ran across the Wordpress file from the move and decided to take a leap of faith about lessons learned: you cannot erase the past.  In fact, the events and actions of our past is what we learn from.  Tonight, though I should be in bed, I imported the old posts and the only deletions I made from the import were the duplicates.

So, if you are the type to go through a persons archives, you will find some things there today that weren’t there yesterday.  There is still some clean-up that needs to be done, like the restoration of some photos and the cleaning up of categories.  But it feels good.

The photo, by the way, was taken on a dear friend’s back porch.  On a day when I needed comfort and an escape.  A part of my past – a part of my growth as a woman – a part of my evolution.  Because we cannot erase the past, but we can certainly learn from it….

the Bangles