The Adventures of Mom

It’s bloody freezing here!

A sprinkling of white glittery frost covers the ground outside- and the patio furniture, the last of what was left of the vegetable garden and the car, even though I’ve just driven it for the past forty minutes. It’s nearly 8.30 in the morning and a crisp 21F. BRRRRRRR.  I bundled my daughter up after our morning school run and raced into the warmth of the house. At 70 inside, it’s a blazing hothouse, but I notice for once my hot blooded daughter doesn’t rush to change into a summery dress. I know I should pack those away, but less than a week ago it was 80F and we were talking about hitting the beach. Now if I stand outside too long, an icicle is bound to form at the end of my nose. What happened to Global Warming? Now is the time to break out the old crock pot and start a batch of deer stew.

I used to cook up a good chili in the cold weather or a big pot of French Onion Soup, but with a husband’s passion for hunting, the only thing we have in the freezer is deer meat- and I can’t seem to give the stuff away! My husband started hunting about three or four years ago, but until this year he never actually caught anything except a cold. This year, every time he’s come back with a doe or buck and one in the shop being prepped. Thank goodness there’s a limit to how many deer you can shoot in Georgia, as the freezer is bursting at its’ seams!

I am most lucky in the fact that dear husband brings home everything already cut up and wraps and labels it himself, as I don’t fancy coming face to face with a Bambi pelt. I had that experience with a boar’s head. I’d been away for the weekend and when I came home, I opened up the fridge to find a whole head of a wild boar staring up at me from the top shelf of the fridge- teeth, whiskers and all. I was not amused. Instead, everytime I now open the freezer packages of deer chunks, cubes, sausage and steaks come tumbling out. One entire shelf is taken up by a large package marked “HAM.” Now what exactly is deer ham?  So here we have been eating deer- alot of it. My husband took me to a restaurant in Cross Creek for our anniversary  a couple of weeks back. There was venison on the menu- I groaned aloud and the waitress raved about deer sausage, steak, etc- she said she loved deer. I might just go back and drop her a large package of chunks, cubes and HAM and then see if she still likes it so much!

Seriously, my husband took his last hunting trip just as the deer season was coming to a close. “Can’t you shoot a turkey or something?” I begged. “Jungle chicken perhaps?”

My son rolled his eyes. “How bout a wild cow?”

No such luck, so for now, it is deer stew…. bowl anyone?

I dyed my hair blond the other day- technically it was only the roots- and I seemed to have missed some in the way back, as you do. You would think after four years of doing this I would get it right by now. Make no mistake- I was never a wanna be blond. I was born natural- white blond in my early years, a dusty sand color later on and sun kissed on the years spent near the beach and working in the great outdoors. It was not a hair color I aspired to- it was a birth right! Sort of like being born a royal. When I heard that blonds have more fun, I assumed it was a motto to live by, like the US Army’s “Be All You Can be!” And boy did I live by that one!

I can not honestly say I have ever known what it is like to be a red head or brunette, or ever wanted to- I mean, when you are blond- well…I have a curly haired friend who used to spend so much time straightening her hair- at the same time I was trying to curl my naturally straight as a board locks, but that was style- as far as color goes, that’s a whole other story. Giving up being a blond would be like parting with a vital appendage- worse, for it just wasn’t something to live with, it was the very essence of me!

Until that dreaded time came….There was no pre warning. My first pregnancy went so smoothly and out came a beautiful baby boy with white blond hair- I know you have to sacrifice a lot (your entire way of life) for a child, but no one warned me I would be forfeiting my blondness- and I was so lost in this new beautiful creature that I did not even notice it  myself, until a kind friend said “oh, your hair is awfully dark.” And there it was in the midst of dirty diapers and spit ups, gurgling smiles and nursing- my hair had seemed to lost all of it’s color. It wasn’t even a nice chestnut or butter rum- it was a non-color! It was quite an awful thing for a birth right blond to discover- I mean, it was if ole Prince Charles got a phone call from his mum and was told he’d be living it a flat in Ilford as they had the castle taken away over night!

I had never dyed my hair before- a squeeze of fresh lemon before going off to the beach does not count as dyeing! But I was desperate- so I started with highlights- nice blond highlights. Somehow I seemed to have lost count of the number of times of highlights I actually had, and with arrival of baby two, my whole head of hair seemed to be back to blond- as if those innocent highlights to hide that dreadful non-color had melted into one. Also with baby two came the extraordinary event of Swiss cheese- in my head- I seemed to have lost every memory. I like to say it was the second birth and a colicky babe, but sometimes I do suspect that highlights blond 242 may have something to do with it- perhaps inhaling peroxide once too many times- making me forget not only my favorite Oscar Wilde poems but also where the car keys were,  What time was that doctor’s appointment? and did I just have a pee?

My own mother’s hair went white about at the age I have reached- though she says it was us kids- probably was. So I figure if I continue touching up my roots, when the white comes in, no one will realise it is a variation of my light blond- just more highlights. My brother, who is four years younger than me already has a sprinkling of white- but he just gets his wife to give him a buzz cut and he’s done with the matter. My roots seem to grow out darker than a moonless night- so it’s back to the highlights- just the roots though, because truth be known, blonds do have more fun..oh yeah, I almost forgot..and I’m worth it!

A happy Christmas and merry new year to all out in the world. Once again over the hols I have neglected my writing- pushed aside under the crumpled wrapping paper and forgotten bows of Christmas Day. The past few weeks have been a blur with last minute shopping, wrapping, Christmas performances, and holiday visits, and now as the clock moves slowly towards midnight, I type this in still darkness (yes, I WILL go blind over this night typing  I know- good thing I don’t do it too often, eh?) the first day of the new year slips away into the abyss of the past. 2009 is truly upon us- but are we ready for it?

I reminisce about the past- probably too much, in case no one noticed! Places I have been, friends I have met, acquaintances of chance meetings that have altered my life, or perception of it, as the case may be. I sent out a mass Christmas card to a group of my friends- first time I have ever e-mailed a mass card- honest!  By now I should know to start my Christmas card writing in August. I used to write a letter in each card- last year I can’t even remember sending any cards. The year before I painted Happy New Years cards, as my Christmas Cards were well belated, but this year- a mass email. I felt bad about that, swore I would never do such a thing (I must have received one once), but I am glad I did say Merry Christmas to my near and dear who are so far away. Phone calls would have been exuberant (have you seen the AT&T rates?)

For all those who did not receive my email: Merry Christmas (belated now, bien sur) and a healthy and happy New Year. 2009 is going to be the year of the extraordinary- forget ordinary people- we are beyond that now. Extraordinary people and extraordinary adventures.

I managed to see Mama Mia! last night. (Much to dear husband’s chagrin-definitely not ex-marine material). My sister in law raved about it, and as it was set in Greece- rumored to be my Corfu, and had ABBA songs, how could I not see it? The scenery was breathtaking. Not Corfu- Skiathos and Skipelos, though with the hotel on the sea, could have been Agni (but wasn’t). The scenery was special, but there wasn’t much of it- you see more of Greece in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (Santorini). I remember watching an old movie with Jacqueline Bisset as a photographer in Lindos, Rhodes- now that was awe inspiring-made me go there, then there was that movie set on a deserted Greek island where this American tries to live a basic life with his teenage daughter and girlfriend (Susan Sarandon)- it made me hunt for abandoned Greek Islands- they do have them- near Turkey and looking for occupancy. But alas, Mama Mia did not have me wanting to own a  Greek B&B in bad need of repairs- though I did spend the rest of the night with “Waterloo” going through my head! I will watch it again- after everyone is off to bed though!

Speaking of which, before I turn into a pumpkin, Kali nichta, and again, Happy New Year!