this little piggy

I am about to go get a pedicure. Or as the cool people say "a pedi." I haven't always been this cool though. In fact anyone who really knows me would be surprised that I would even type the word. I have this weird foot thing... not in a good way. I don't like them. I think they are ugly and weird and I don't want to touch or see any one's feet but my own. Well that isn't all together true. A true test of love for me... if I can deal with the guy's feet. If I can touch or stand to look at his feet it must be real.
When I was 3 or maybe 4 I was visiting with my aunt. She decided it would be fun to paint my toes. I don't have any recollection of this and can only go by what they have told me. I don't think I protested but after she was done I disappeared. They found me sitting in a corner crying. When asked what happened all I said was "my toes are ugly" and demanded the polish be taken off.
So here we are 20 some odd years later and I am actually paying someone to do this to me. I had my first pedicure when I was about 15 or 16 and it was my brother's wedding. I was nervous but turns out I really enjoy them. They massage you... HELLO?? No one ever told me they massage not just the foot but up your leg.. I was drooling.
Needless to say I am all about them now. I don't get them all the time just for special occasions. I leave for Florida on Tuesday and there was no way I was going to take my shoes and socks off down there without one. Damn Maine winters!

channeling the elders

I have started to crochet. When I was younger and my Great Grandmother was alive she used to teach me how to do all kinds of different crafts. She was always making dolls, baking, knitting, sewing and crocheting. I remember her being so patient with me. If you had met her you would have loved her and I suspect you will see much of her presence in these blogs as I consider her to be one of the most amazing women I have ever been blessed to know. So back to crocheting. My mother and grandmother are also quite crafty and love to crochet, knit, sew and quilt. I figure there must be a gene for this talent and decided after years and years... like 20 or more, of being dormant, I would try again. My mother showed me the basics and sent me home with some yarn and a hook. I was crocheting away this evening when all these images popped into my head... my hands became my grandmother's hands. I could actually remember studying all three of the women I have mentioned as they crocheted. I could see them all so vividly wrapping the yarn around the hook and pulling it through. I didn't want to stop imagining it all. I could smell my grandmother's wood stove, I could hear my mom watching Oprah and I could see my great grandmother's eyes on me as she would speak to me all the while crocheting stitch after stitch with ease. Reality always seems to snap back in such an instant and it all melts away.

preface

It all started with a story I wrote in about the first grade. It painted the picture of a family of rabbits where the mom and dad rabbit were always fighting and it made the baby bunny sad. My mom received a phone call asking if everything at home was alright. It was, just my imagination and most likely too much TV. My parent's, although embarrassed by this story, encouraged me to stick with writing and for the most part I have. I was a narrative writing minor in college which of course means nothing except more course work at the time. So all that being said I can not promise to deliver in this blog. I can only hope something brilliant shakes out every now and then. All the rest will be pure shit I am sure. I am out of practice so forgive my bad grammar and outrageous spelling errors. These entries will most likely be written in a stream of consciousness format and if you don't like it don't read it. Or read it and then tell me just how shit it is. That is fine too. Either way comments are encouraged.

happy blogging