Evensong

This morning, we were going to go to the breakfast place where we'd had our first meal in town ~ but it's really just a diner, and had a 45 minute wait. Ummm...no.

So we went to the Ritz. I do love brunch at the Ritz.

Other people take pictures of food. I take pictures of bathrooms.

The rest of the day has been last minute packing. The curtains are even down. We're drinking wine from coffee cups. The mattress is on the floor. But we're ready to pick up the truck at 7:30 and for the movers to show up at 9:00.

Tonight we went to Cleo's for dinner. Our favorite little hole in the wall Middle Eastern place. We were some of their first customers when they opened. It was fitting to have our last meal in NOLA there.

And we were home in time for evensong. The first evensong we heard here was Ave Maria. This was the last:

Those are ... melancholy, excited, omg moving day is HERE ... Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

What I'll Miss

Mike over at My Point Being is also in the middle of a move. He's done a lovely series about it, and a couple posts about what he'll miss and what he won't miss.

God love him.

I've mentioned the fact that I'm moving and then that's about it. Why? Because on the one hand, I still haven't believed it and haven't wanted to jinx it. On the other hand, if I started bemoaning NOLA, I would never stop. I am that over this city.

There are, however, a few things I will miss. We've lived here for 4 years, and loved it for 3, so yes, there are some things. 

I'll miss the view out our window. We look down on one the hotel pools in the area. It's one of the nicest hotels in town, which means there's always something going on down there. We have learned to tell the weather forecast based on the pool umbrellas. Still up? The rain won't be too bad. Being closed? There'll be some wind. Stacked and stretched out on the ground? Hold onto your butts; it's about to get ugly out there.

On nights when there have been private parties, we've opened our windows and danced in our living room to free (and at home!) live music. Usually jazz, but sometimes pop.

And dear lord, who can forget the crawfish hats? I will miss the crawfish hats.

Then there are the church bells. From 7:00 am to 9:00 pm, every 15 minutes, the bells at the Jesuit cathedral chime. And at 6:00 pm every night, we have evensong. Last night, when I got teary, I realized just how much I was going to miss evensong.

Hopefully tonight or tomorrow, Lithus or I will record it. Because I am going to really miss evensong.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

It's the Little Things

I've said for years that one should never bring something into their home unless they love it. From laundry baskets to fine china, if you don't love it, why look at it, deal with it, or live around it every single day?

Because I talk this talk, I also try very hard to walk this walk. You've read about things I love. You've read about my little pot from AppsRUs. Now, let me tell you about my clock...

When I was 12 or 13, someone I admired but I don't remember who now (although it was probably Gail or one of the Sues) had a digital clock with blue numbers. This was the coolest thing I had ever seen. Obviously cool people had digital clocks with blue numbers. So for my birthday, or Christmas maybe, that year, I asked my folks for a digital clock with blue numbers.

They got me this great square clock with blue numbers. A Sony Dream Machine Cube. It was user friendly and intuitive. I loved this clock. And then I didn't think about it any more. It was, after all, a clock.

It moved all over the country with me, hanging out by my bed, in front of my picture of my grandfather, wherever my bedroom happened to be. It was just there. 

For 23 years.

Then, as I was moving from Worcester, I was rushing and not paying attention. Caught my foot in the cords, tripped, and brought the clock down. Done and done.

I replaced with another Dream Machine ~ but the Cube was discontinued. The new one had blue numbers, but was anything but user friendly and intuitive. Whatever. It was a clock.

A few weeks ago, I literally woke up thinking about my old clock. And remembered that we live in the time of the internet. So I went looking.

Turns out, I'm not the only one who loved the Sony Dream Machine Cube. People have written eulogies to this clock. People loooooove this clock. One person has stockpiled 2 spares, just in case.

I found one. For sale. For a reasonable price. It is, after all, a clock.

When we got home from this last tour, it was waiting for me. My clock.

See how it works? See its cool blue numbers? See its old-school controls? Obviously, only cool people would own a clock this cool.

It's as user friendly and intuitive as I remember. This morning, I realized the alarm was set for the wrong time (too early!) and reached out, still half asleep, and reset it without thinking about it. Almost as if I'd used it for more than half my life or something. 

Yes, it's just a clock. But why have anything in your home if you don't love it? And wow...I love my clock.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

My Country, 'Tis of Thee

Lithus took his citizenship test today. Recommended for approval! And the swearing in ceremony can be moved to Boston with no problem.

He's worked so hard for this. It means so much to him. I'm so very, very proud.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Curly Girl

I was about 12 when I realized my sister, my friends, even the grown ups around me were putting their hair through horrible chemical processes to get what my hair did naturally ~ and still didn't look as good as I did naturally. Perhaps that was one of the unexpected benefits of growing up in the decade that epitomized Big Hair: the '80s.

Truthfully, I was an adult before I ever knew not liking one's curls was a thing for women. But now, as an adult, I also recognize how incredibly lucky I was. Still am.

Every now and then, a new stylist will practically beg me to let them straighten my hair before I leave their chair. Fine, whatever. And they ooooh and aaaaaah about how gorgeous it is. I smile and say "but it's not as gorgeous as my curls" and I mean it. The rest of that day, I feel...off...somehow and can't wait to get in the shower in order to get my curls back. For those of us who have embraced them, they are an integral part of our personalities.

So while I am deeply sad this campaign needs to exist, since it does, I'm really glad it exists.

Rockin' the Curls...

And okay, some wine, too.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee (and wine, apparently).

But Sometimes, It Is

I spend a lot of time explaining to people that Lithus and my life isn't a movie. There are more boring days than we can count. There are too many hotels to remember. Trying to find laundromats in small towns and clean bathrooms in truck stops and put up with people you don't necessarily like but have to work with ~ it's not at all a movie. Hell, it's not even a movie set.

There isn't majestic lighting, or stirring soundtracks. It's just life.

That's what made working for BCAZ (the old company) such a dream. Country Boy and M-O-M were friends. We made a family. Nothing was perfect, but we were always united. Lithus and I are in agreement that, at the end of it all, we will look back on those 18 months and consider them the glory years.

Today, we had lunch with them. Possibly for the last time. Definitely for the last time as our little family.

So we hugged and went our ways. They back to the helicopter they're overhauling. Lithus to take me back to the hotel, and then back to the hangar at the company where he now works without them. And I wasn't teary eyed. I wasn't. (Like hell)

At the hotel, I kissed Lithus, talked about dinner tonight with the kids, and hopped out of the truck. Walked into the lobby to hear the song any music director would have chosen for the moment.

Fair enough. Maybe sometimes it is.




Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

"I Felt Threatened"

Funny how only white people are allowed to feel threatened enough to kill someone when it's the people of color who are actually being killed, but aren't allowed to feel threatened enough to steal a taser and run away.

Crazy how that works, isn't it?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Pragmatism at Its Finest

There are 2 things that play a huge part in defining me:

1. I'm pragmatic. Almost to the point of taking it too far, sometimes.
2. I remember the face of my father.

As a pragmatist, I am willing to admit that, in spite of deeply held beliefs, not a one of us knows what happens when we die. Anyone devout ~ and I include devout atheists here ~ will tell you they know exactly what happens when we die. Hell, I truly and with my whole heart believe I know.

But the truth is ~ we don't.

As a woman who remembers the face of her father, I also remember how deeply his Christianity defined who he was. And not the sick, twisted Christianity that has become so prevalent in the last several years, but true Christianity. That which follows the teaching of Christ.

So yesterday, in spite of the fact that Easter really is a random Sunday to me any longer, I gave a nod to my dad. Appreciated his belief that this was the day that promised he and I would be together again. And drank a toast to his memory ~ and our eventual reunion.



Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Nope, Not A Joke

Once people started emailing me, I realized what day I had posted the news. No, it's not an April Fool's joke ~ Lithus and I really are moving back to Massachusetts. Worcester, to be exact.

We're in Oregon for his yearly recurrency training (made more important this year because he's with the new/old company) then back to NOLA on the 11th or 12th. 

The firemen arrive in NOLA on the 20th, and the gentle giants arrive in Worcester on the 24th. 

We have a place ~ a lovely 3 bedroom ~ that my dear friend, Bolger, went and saw and checked out for us. The whole thing has taken place via internet, email, and text messages. LOTS of text messages.

When Lithus and I first started talking about me moving out west, I told him I would come ~ but that I wasn't done with Massachusetts. Eventually, he'd have to bring me home. He made that promise, and now he's keeping it.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

April 24th

Finally.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you Dunkin' Donuts coffee.