Suburban Noise

Lawn mowers, weed whackers, and leaf blowers, oh my.
I prefer the sounds of yesteryear when it comes to lawn care. There was something more rhythmic when the blades of the lawnmower went around to cut the grass. The raking of the leaves in succession and the simple edger going back and forth. I'd much rather wake up to those noises on a weekend morning than the blaring sounds of the motorized equipment.  

There seemed to be a calming effect to the process, it was slower, the sounds were more quiet, somehow comforting. You could speak to someone while they were working. They would notice things around them.
Children weren't in danger while they played.

It was a simpler time, definitely a quieter time.
A time of lemonade and porch swings.

I Got Nothin

Sometimes I just have nothing to say. I want to write, I have about twelve drafts in my Dashboard, but sometimes I'm just kinda blank.

Not that my mind is ever empty! God forbid ~ that would make my days too easy, in fact ~ that would make my life too easy. Not to mention people who I'm close to. If only my brain wasn't on over load.

"You think to much" "What's the big deal?" "How come everything has to mean something" " Can't you just enjoy yourself?" "You worry too much" I think I even remember my Dad telling me that, and he's been gone for forty five years. I think it was he who started calling me a worry wart.

Well, then he died ~
So I proved him wrong, see, there was something to worry about!

But for now, I got nothin.

Real Wild Housewives

I love the "Real" Housewives series. My favorite is NYC, but I've watched them all. I can't resist. It's an in depth study of wealthy women in their natural habitat, with nothing real about it. If anything it is more surreal.


I would say it's akin to watching Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, a show I watched as a child. It premiered in the sixties and took me, along with millions of others to the far corners of the world studing wild animals in their natural habitats. The stories were suspenseful, enabling the viewers to see most of the action, without the violence. Similiar to the way we never hear what the housewives tell their "real" friends and family. We only hear a sampling of the hateful words exchanged and the glimpse of a nasty look.


Like the wild kingdom, we see mothers protecting their children and wives defending their mates. We watch the housewives scratch and spit at unwelcome visitors that invade their territory. The viewer sees the herd follow the proper hierarchy as the weak are culled out or cruelly banished. One can swim against the tide for only so long.


Unlike the animals, the camera can change the behavior of the housewives. If you view the earlier episodes, the differences are clear. Many of the ladies have taken advantage of the shows popularity to promote their products, make up, jewelry, and clothing to name a few. Some have been quite successful in making the most of their fame while it lasts.


At the end of each season there is at least one reunion show, hosted by Andy Cohen. He tries to mend fences and wrap up the show in the same way Marlin Perkins did at the end of each episode of Wild Kingdom. Marlin's job was way easier than Andy's is.

 It's a concrete jungle out there, where only the strong survive. 

School Day Microcosm

I drive my kid to school most mornings. I'm often reminded of the scene in "Mr. Mom" when Micheal Keaton drops his kid off for the first time, the Mom's start yelling at him because he's going the wrong way. There is a proper morning etiquette and most people follow it. Without it, mayhem would be inevitable. I see the disappointment on the crossing guards face when a driver disobeys the rules. Some mornings parents are distracted, on others they're simply stupid.

The little kids that walk are just too cute with their humongus backpacks and hip little get ups. The big kids have that "I'm so cool" attitude all ready. Some of the parents share a friendly wave. Sometimes I see a parent carrying a tray of silver foil that protects precious birthday cupcakes. Other days it's a student with a giant poster board filled with historical facts blowing against the wind.

I enjoy watching all of the various interactions. I like to imagine how the children may grow and change, and watch the developing personalities. Some look like twins to a parent, while others bare no resemblance.
For this small part of the day it all works like a well oiled engine.

I know lives are not simple. There are millions of stories, and my daily view is just a microcosm. But every weekday for fifteen minutes I get the chance to pretend every family is a happy one.

Puritanical Foodie

A purist is one who desires that an item remain true to its essence and free from adulterating or diluting influences.

No gravy on my mashed potatoes please. Keep my salad dressing on the side. Don't mix make believe gooey cheese into my veggies and keep my burger plain. No vegetables from a can, no potatoes from a box, no instant rice and no powdered soup. I like to taste my food not the stuff all over it.

Oh, and hold the salt.

Off With Her Head

The women who's lived behind me for over ten years now, is not friendly. Our yards are divided by a simple chain link fence. She has two little girls who are close to the same age as my daughter. The girls often congregate at the fence to talk. My daughter asks me time and again if they can play together, my response is always the same. It's fine with me if it's okay with their mother. It's never okay.

I see this women on her daily walk and she acts as if she doesn't know me.

I am not bothered that she treats me poorly. However, my heart bleeds for my daughter. There are no children on our block her age. The three girls really seem to like each other. The sisters have a pool and a swing set, and my kid stands watching them play from a distance.

A few weeks ago on my way to work I passed the girls mother walking with another women. The women she walks with has always been friendly. I pulled over and got out of my car to speak to my unfriendly neighbor.
I wanted to find out why she wouldn't let the girls play together. I figured now was as good a time as any.

"Can you answer a question I've been struggling with?" I said "Why won't you let our girls play together?"
This was her reply: "It's our family policy, they aren't allowed to play with neighbors" I was dumb struck.
I repeated what she said, looked at the nice lady quizzically, said "oh, okay then" and got back into my car. As I drove off, passing both ladies walking I waved. The nice lady waved back.

I was not aware we had a Royal bloodline in our midst.

The Uniforms We Wear

Someone once asked me "What was my work uniform?" I looked puzzled, so they explained, We all wear uniforms, some are just more obvious than others.

When I worked for a non-profit I wore long dresses or long skirts with long sweaters. At the time, it was stylish, artsy, and comfortable. My next job was corporate and my uniform was pantsuits with an occasional skirt thrown in. The job after that was professional but not corporate, so I combined the uniforms from my two previous jobs, until I got pregnant ~ then all bets were off. I kept up the image for awhile, but my comfort became of key importance.

I guess uniforms tend to define us in the work place and it's a bit more difficult to know who's who. It's an image maker that acts as a shield to hide our true selves. I feel it inhibits me and the people around me.

At times it made me uncomfortable.

I'm a very down to earth, no frills kinda chick. I have never had my nails manicured, or a facial, and I only recently started to have my hair colored professionally (It's too hard now to do it myself). I basically wear the same shoes everyday depending on the season. I only buy dress shoes as needed. I need of a pair of basic black heels, I can't believe I don't own a pair of black heels. I do have a weakness for boots and sandals and often treat myself to a new pair in the winter and summer, respectively.

At the job I have now one of the few perks I have is the fact that I can practically roll out of bed and show up. Sometimes I'm not sure how much of a perk this is. When I think back, dressing up forced me to feel good about myself. Somehow my uniform prepared me for whatever the day had to offer. It gave me a clear delineation of work time vs. relax time.

Maybe I could use a little wardrobe discomfort during my day.