Sorry y’all. This last weekend was a doozy.

My husband developed an abscess on an unusual part of his anatomy. Oh fine. It was on his ass. Are you happy now? Back to the story. He started running a low grade fever late Friday night. We went to the ER on Saturday afternoon. It wasn’t good.

He has MRSA. They are fairly certain they got it early enough. I will spare you the details. You can thank me later. He is taking three antibiotics and percocet. We go back to the doctor tomorrow to have the packing removed. And then back again on Wednesday. After that, he should be fine. Thank God. I have never been so scared in my life. And beat. Emotional upheavals really kick my ass. I’ll be back tomorrow with news of his condition.

If you believe in prayer, please say one for us now. Thank you.


I’m back…

These last few days have been okay. I have missed you all more than I can say. I have felt your kind words, and kept them close to my heart.

December 12, 2006 my grandma died unexpectedly during surgery. We are still not exactly sure what happened a year later.

I miss her every day. Not only for myself, but for the boys as well. She was crazy about Aidan and Quinn. I still pick up the phone to call her and tell her some new thing one of them has done. It is hard. But I am getting better. Having the boys takes my mind off of it. And shopping for Christmas. I know it will get easier with time.

But this first Christmas without her has been difficult for all of us.


Hey y’all. I am going to take a break from posting for a few days. Nothing is wrong, well nothing physical anyway. This is just a very difficult time for me and my family right now. And I am just so very sad. I will be back in a few days. Don’t worry.

Tonight, I’ll kick The Footlights Out Again…

Ahh, the story. About my babe-ah. The one thing I have been meaning to talk about, and just couldn’t. Because it was always too painful a story to tell.

My babe-ah. Bobby. He loved LSU. Cigars. Beer. Wine. And my mama’s Swedish Meatballs. He was this big,amazing man. He was my teddy bear.

He loved to tell the story of how we first met. He said I was a huge bitch, I said he was a dick. It was love at first sight. He took me under his wing. Taught me everything I know. About life. About wine. He taught me that you do what needs to be done to make your customer’s happy. PERIOD. If that means going out and getting them a Dr. Pepper, then you do that. And your tip will reflect that. And that you always try to make them feel important. Like they are your only table.

And then there was the night I got my heart broke into a million frickin’ pieces. He was there. He took me out and got me really shit-faced. Because that was all he knew how to do, that was the only way he knew how to help me.

And he was so much more than that. There is a picture of him that I will always regret not having. We used to do a ChildKind Dinner, at LunaSi. There was this beautiful child, being held by Bobby. And the absolute joy on both of their faces, was something I could never even hope to replicate. And that was Bobby. That was always who he was.

He was killed by a drunk-driver. It was a hit-and-run. I would like to think it was instant. That he didn’t suffer. I need to know that. For my own selfish reasons.

Because he didn’t deserve any less.

The Rose Bowl Awaits…

I know, I know. I should have posted this on Sunday. Or really even Saturday night.

Yes, I am very excited to be going to the Rose Bowl. It is a personal favorite of mine. I also love the parade. I get up and watch it every year. No matter what. It’s tradition. This year will be more kick-ass than usual due to the world’s most bitchin’ band, who will be marching in the parade. I love marching bands. Yes. I am that geeky. To take it one step further, I was IN the marching band in high school. I played clarinet. I was cool.

It’s funny to look back on it now. But being in the band was so much fun. Most of my adult friendships are with people from band. We were a pretty close knit group. Still are.

So laugh all you want. It won’t bother me a bit. I am proud to have been a member of the Alexander High School Marching Cougars. We rawked.

Read This! First Book Review…

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.

I’m sorry. I have spent two and a half weeks trying to read this book. Or at least finish the damn thing. I don’t like it. I find it annoying and very strange. I am also shocked that it won a Pulitzer. And slightly confused as to where all the “comedy” is? Wha? There is actual comedy in the book? Is it at the end? ‘Cause I am not getting to it anytime soon.

I am very disappointed with this book. It will be joining a very short list of books that I could not finish. Have still not finished. If you knew just how much I loved to read, you would understand why this pains me so.

1- The Secret Life of Bees- I am nowhere near finishing it.
2- She’s Come Undone- Yeah.
3- Quite a Year For Plums- One of the worst books I have ever attempted to read. Ever.

Let me know what y’all thought about it.

Misty, Water-Colored Memories…

God. I don’t even know where to begin. I love Christmas, and all that it entails. The promise of a new year. Fresh beginings. A time to be spent with family. So today, I would like to tell you about my Grandma Harler.

The woman was a nut. She had the most amazing gift of being able to talk to anyone, anytime, anywhere, anyplace. She made friends wherever she went. She never met a stranger. Ever. She would welcome you with open arms. I was in awe of her. My mother is like that. In so many ways.

Grandma always had projects. She helped with a senatorial campaign. She worked tirelessly in her church. They published a cookbook the year before last. She sent me a copy. Which only included one recipe from her. I still find that odd, because she was a good cook. I cherish that cookbook. She did so very many things. For so many organizations. There are too many to name. She believed in helping her fellow man.

She was very religous. But she was fair. “Judge not, lest ye be judged” was a favorite of hers. And she lived her life that way. She tried to help anyone that needed it. Be it a kind word, or a home-cooked meal. She was never preachy. She just loved God, and was never ashamed to let you know it. She wanted to share the joy that it had given her. In whatever way she could.

And she was dingy. The first example that comes to mind is Cracker Barrel. She came out to visit when I graduated from high school. My parent’s took her there for lunch. She loved it. She would tell anyone who would listen about going to the Crack Box for lunch. It still makes me smile to think about that. She was forever calling things by the wrong name. It was always a running family joke. And don’t even get me started about her driving skills!

And there are so many more memories I have. She came out to help my mom after my last knee surgery. Quinn was only six months old. I found a picture the other day that made me cry. In it you can see Quinn, and only her hands. I love that picture more than words can say.

She passed away almost a year ago, this month. The week before Christmas. I miss her every day. I did my Christmas cards tonight, and it was really sad. This first year has been incredibly difficult. I talked to her at least once a week. It was hard to give that up. She was my rock. I know that she is watching over me. Us. But it is still not the same. She loved her great-grandchildren, if possible, more than she loved us. I know she is proud of them. I just wish she were here to see them. She would be so excited. She loved to take their pictures to church, and display them for everyone to see. We are talking 11 by 13 pictures. Not wallets.

I guess I would like for all of you to hug your loved one’s close. Be thankful for what you have. Enjoy your holiday season. And never take them for granted.