The three of us are Home! Mabel Lou, Baby and I made it home. We are thrilled and happy despite a rude little flight attendant that didn't like big dogs and the fact that our flight was originally headed to San Francisco and we had some unhappy co-passengers!
This is Mabel Lou's first creek hike last night. I was pointing the camera at her and asked, "Mabel, are you HAPPY?" and this is what I got:
It was such a lovely night with friends... until Hank and Sue took off and met a skunk! I spent the evening taking supplies to their Mom. Poor babies!
I haven't spent much time in Louisiana in the summer in such a long time and I was struck by so many contrasts between my two homes...
It's odd to me what items are expensive in one place vs. the other. In Louisiana, milk and produce are much more expensive... and there's a dairy just outside Baton Rouge. But milk is about a $1.25 more in most stores! And produce prices are terribly high there...is it because more people garden and there is less demand?
I had to buy some of these for a friend in CA recently.
Gasoline is nearly a buck more a gallon here. Our government claims it's the "expensive" detergents required to meet California summer emissions... Excuse me while I laugh.
I know housing is so pricey here but many other things are the same or even less...
The first day I visited my Mom at rehab, I was over the moon to see this goose family a few feet from my car:
Cut to my trip to the thrift store this morning: I see a local peacock family crossing my street. I stopped. Mom looked beat to bits...like a coyote got a hold of her. I was most surprised to see a big male helping her tend the two chicks.
And the three other cars that I encountered??? They all stopped and watched! There's something to be said for us nutty Californians!
God is Everywhere
Funny but that sort of sums up my religious philosophy but, in the case of the South, I mean it literally! It was to the point where it was starting to offend me and I'm a very spiritual person who also believes in leaving others to make their own dang minds up. If you ask me, I'll tell you what I believe and why but I don't go around trying to lead a flock anywhere. Heck, there as days I feel I've done a good job and if me and dog are still alive at the end of it!
But there are NUMEROUS religious television channels on 24/7! My personal favorite was a charlatan who insisted God would bless me if I only sowed a "thousand dollar favor" to plant a "triple favor seed" with the Lord....(That's ONLY 84 dollar a month!) By "the Lord" he meant his ministry. When I think of some of the dim witted, but kind-hearted folks I know that would fall for this crap, it gives me greater understanding of the old Southern phrase "he needed killin!" I really don't understand how the FCC can allow such cons on the air!
And then with the 4th of July even the local yokel news anchors were throwing around "God Bless America and God Bless YOU" at the end of their commercials advertising their fireworks spectacular. I only ate out in a restaurant a total of three times but one of them was selling little crosses and stitched pillows reminding me that Jesus is Lord. If you want to find the Lord, I'm certain He's in the South. Or you could at least find a replica to purchase!
But all of this made me wonder... WHY go to church? You can preached at endlessly, tithe and order religious ephemera all from the comfort of your air conditioned home!
Patience for Patients
Taking care of my strong and willful mom was an eye opening experience. So many issues of my own inadequacy from the constant criticism are way too near the surface. I couldn't help but think of taking care of my sister just six months before.
No matter what I did for my sis, there was that kind, sweet little voice ALWAYS... "Thank youuuu! Thank YOU!" for everything. She knew she was hard to please but she always said it. I remember trying to move her. I couldn't lift her but I knew she could hold onto my neck. I would tell her we were dancing. "Take a step right, take a step back." She listened and I could maneuver her where I needed her to go, cheek to cheek. She would kiss me and thank me.
I would change her diapers and she would look up at me and apologize over and over. My response was always the same, "Hey, you changed mine! Now it's my turn!"
And while it's natural for my mother to long for her lost child gazing through the perfection colored glasses of loss, I wish, just once, I could feel like the good daughter I know I am. One who is not always wrong in everything she does.