Just one more and I will go on to something else.
Just wanted to share another painting from my portfolio.This is 16 x 20 in acrylic and oils.
I received some wonderful reviews for yesterday piece of art so I decided to post another. This is acrylic and oil.
I thought I would take a break from daily things and post a piece of my art today.
The Cult of Me Blog: http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/
Flabbermouth # 3
I was not going to share this story with anyone to-day with Christmas so close, but I think it might be a positive thing. My friend Cheryl just called to tell me she is still laughing and doesn’t think she will stop anytime soon.
Cheryl came for a Christmas coffee this evening. She noticed the card I had from our vet with our late Cercie’s footprint on it. We started talking about our furry family members who had passed. We discussed how we felt they left us far too soon. I talked about my Cercie and she talked about her Wishbone. I teared up for a few moments, as I remembered how Cercie buried her weary head in my bosom, while the vet relieved her of her unbearable pain.
Cheryl asked, “Did you have her cremated to keep her?”
“No, we just had her paw print made. It is preserved on that plaque on the fireplace.”
She said, “I can handle anything, but cremation.” She added with a shudder, “I had to watch a movie on it for nursing and I found it far too hard to absorb.”
We talked about how she cannot be in the same room with ashes, even her own pets. I felt bad for her. I knew, by the look on her face that this was a very uncomfortable subject. Yet, I also could see it was something she wanted to share with me. Her husband and she had a heated discussion about their pet being cremated and she was afraid she was losing.
I remembered that once before she had told me, she and her hubby would be cremated when the time came. “Have you changed your mind?” I asked.
“No. It just creeps me out and I can’t help it.”
“Well,” I said, “Ron and I have our plans already. The fact we are being buried in a family plot dictates cremation.” I continued, “As a matter of fact, I told Ron that we should consider a plan I have.”
“What is that?” Cheryl asked.
“I think we should be buried in the same Urn, at the same time.”
“How would that work?” She questioned with a frown.
“Well whoever goes first would be kept in the Urn until the other passes.” I continued with, “Then, when the other one goes we would be put in the same urn together.”
Flabbermouth striking again said, “The only thing I ask is that no one shakes us up. I don’t want something stuck in my mouth that should not be there, especially for eternity.”
Cheryl started to laugh so hard, she was snorting. “Oh my gawd,” She cried through her snorts. “Chris, only you could take something I am afraid of and make me see it in a whole new light.” Hunched over with a stitch in her side and through tears, she repeated, “I am so happy I came for coffee tonight, I just hope I can drive home without the car shaking.”
The phone rang disrupting the moment. Her hubby wanted her to go pick up her kids at soccer and go home. She could not even talk to him she was laughing so hard.
“Yep she is on her way,” I told him.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Absolutely, alright.” I replied
As I said in the beginning of this story, Cheryl just called. She wanted to tell me she may never fear cremation again, but the vision I left in her head is disturbing to say the least. My last words to her before I hung up, “And you thought the Kama Sutra left images.” She started to laugh again and I could hear her snorting between, “Only you Chris, only you.”
“Good night, Cheryl.”
Sometimes remembering the flabbermouth moments are painful. This is especially true when I realize just how dumb I really sound. In some cases, it might take a few minutes or so to sink in. Remember the reference from the last story, my not being the brightest bulb on the tree? This is one of those occasions. I however cannot believe my family still has it in their memory bank. They cannot remember my birthday, but this is burned into their brains.
The family and I were sitting on the couch watching a science – health show one evening on tv. The discussion was on how individual parts of the body function and moves.
The first part of the program was based on the problems and function of our joints.
The second part discussed the damage that could be done by smoking and what it does to the organs and growth hormones. I found all of this rather interesting and it had me thinking. I was taking it all in as at that time, Ron was a heavy smoker. I on the other hand had never parted my lips for the deadly cancer stick. So in my mind part of getting Ron to quit smoking, would be in this new-found knowledge.
When the first part of the show was over. Ron noticed I was staring at him intensely, “What on earth are you looking at?” He said with a rather inquisitive look on his face.
“I was just thinking.”
“Oh no, not again.”
“Yes again, the show has made me think,”
With that, he rolled his eyes and the kids laughed.
“Oh oh, moms thinking again,” piped up one of our rug rats.
Now I was determined to show them I could say something smart. So out it came. “Honey I want to be serious now ok? I have an important. When we talk, what jaw moves our top or bottom one?”
“You are kidding right?” Ron questioned with a furrowed brow.
“No!” I was annoyed he would put it that way.
Then as if the family had rehearsed the response for weeks, they in unison started talking. Moving their heads up and down, pushing their heads back trying to keep their bottom jaw still. They were laughing so hard they almost rolled on the floor. “Anymore questions dear. Does any one have anything to say to your mom?” Hysterically one after the other they teased me. I soon saw the humour in the latest ‘flabbermouth’ moment.
That night when we went to bed Ron apologized for being so hard on me but he said, “Honey you have to admit it was pretty funny?”
“I know now it was.” I said embarrassed but still able to laugh.
And then, ‘flabbermouth’ hit me again. “At least I didn’t tell you I was worried about smoking stunting your growth.”
With that, Ron reached over and patted me on the head and as I turned around to face him he said, “Like this?” There he was with his tee-shirt pulled up over his arm with only his hand showing wiggling his fingers at me. I slapped him and rolled over but not before hearing. “Honey life would be so dull without you?” With that, he got one more giggle in before falling asleep.
I have been wondering what I can do to keep my blog interesting while I continue to write the sequel to “A Hairdresser’s Diary “
So I thought I would post some of the stories I am writing called “MY FLABBERMOUTH SERIES” ( flabbermouth is my word for foot in mouth moments that leave one flabbergasted ) these are true events that have happened in my life over the last 50 years. I hope you enjoy reading them and at least get a chuckle. In some cases those who know me personally these might bring back a memory or two.
I am what the world classifies as the queen of ‘flabbermouth.’ I am always saying something at the wrong time or in the wrong place. I am the unpaid family clown making everyone laugh although most times it is not planned.
My kids would say, “Oh it is just one of mom’s ‘flabbermouth’ moments again.” The sad part for me, but the entertaining part for my friends and family, is that I don’t realize what I had said until it is pointed out to me. Then even I can’t believe I said it.
Poor Ron just shakes his head in embarrassment or disbelief. One would think after so many years he would get used to me right? Wrong.
I love to cook and experiment with many different dishes. Each member of my family has their favourites and on this particular night it was Ron’s turn to have his choice. – Breaded deep-fried squid.- Yuk! As much as I didn’t like the cleaning, cutting, feel and look of these creatures, I sucked it up and did the dirty deed. I made Ron his favourite no matter what the sheer yukkies did to me. The kids teased me that the tentacles looked like baby spiders, so that didn’t help the situation in the least. The thing I detested more than squid was any type of creepy spiders.
Passionately I cleaned, and then cut (into perfect sized rings) I floured, battered and fried these discussing looking morsels. All the time working with my nose turned up. Every so often taking the time to reminding Ron how much I must love him, to do this wonderful loving thing for him.
Now the moment of truth, the taste test. Was it up to par? I had the squid all set out on a nice white dish with condiments ready for him to dig in. If I say so myself, it was a very appetizing looking dish. The kids each took a fair-sized portion and started to eat, when Douglas said, “Dad don’t the tentacles look like spiders? Annoyingly, I told him to stop talking and eat. I gave a shudder. Ron looked over at him and smiled. The most devilish smile I have seen in a while. Winking at the kids, he picked up one of the tentacles and placed one hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He then started to chase me around the house and into the back yard. As I ran, I was squealing for him to stop. My neighbour Delores who was outside watering her lawn hollered to me, “Why are you squealing?”
Out of breath, I pointed and said, “Ron is chasing me with his testicles hanging out of his mouth.”
With a curious look on her face she said, “Oh my, how talented he is” and started to laugh hysterically. Before long, it was going around the small neighbourhood how gifted my hubby was. I was teased, for a very long time. Some snickered and one friend made reference to the ‘squid on sale.’Some of those friends even pretended to have something sticking out the corner of their mouths teasing me unmercifully. That was until I did or said something else which made them forget that ‘flabbbermouth’ moment for another.
All the teasing was in fun. I however have not lived this one down. Even to-day when my kids or Ron sees squid. I think I can hear them say, “She’s not the brightest bulb on the tree.” But, we love her. Lol. This is something I have never doubted.
Mother’s Day was coming and I so love getting hand-made cards from my hubby Ron. I have always felt there was so much more love in a hand-made card versus a store-bought one. Ron was not great at writing love poems in mine, but he always came up with a quote that was loving and appropriate.
My daughter Christine was going to be on her own for the first time since being newly divorced. Shandra her daughter was too young to do anything for her so I thought I would. Since I write poetry and know how to use the computer program to make the cards I would try it. I wrote the perfect poem. Not mushy or generic but something that would give her a much-needed lift and let her know how much we love her.
I painted her a picture of wild roses on a jacket that she had asked for. I used that picture on the front of her card. After picking out the best font for the poem, I printed it and sealed it in an envelope that I also made. On the front of the envelope, I wrote ‘To My Wonderful Daughter’ in calligraphy.
Her father and I then invited her and our wonderful granddaughter over for brunch. After brunch, we exchanged cards. I was so proud. I just knew she would love the card as much as she did her painted jacket.
I had a huge smile on my face as she opened it. I winked at Ron who gave me the thumbs up. All of a sudden, Christine started to laugh. She was laughing so hard she could not speak. Perplexed I took the card from her and read,” I know I’m not your mother.” Somehow “I know your not my Mother” got mixed up between my pea brain and my fingertips. Need I say more? Not a Mother’s Day passes that she doesn’t remind me of my special Mother’s Day card that only ‘her mother’ could have written. Ron just rolls his eyes and shook his head.
Happy Mother’s Day to every mother everywhere.