happy birthday, mamos!

 

It's my mother's birthday today. She would have been 79 years old! It's been twenty years since she died and I miss her every day. I can't believe it's been so long. I found this mushroom staking a claim right next to the driveway. My mother used to do pen and ink drawings that often featured small wonders such as mice, butterflies, and mushrooms. This one is for you mamos. I love you. 

on this morning

I woke up this morning to the song of frogs, the harsh screech-screech-screech of one very put out bluejay, the long whistles of goldfinches, and the less harsh but equally put out symphony of barks from my neighbor's dogs.

I woke up to the kind of morning where the light is just right and the breeze cool enough to warrant another burrow under the covers. It was 8am and I wanted to sleep more but the mister was already up the peak that we can see from our backyard, the mama a-go-go was scraping marmalade across her toast, and the witch-baby was howling underfoot for more food, or more lap, or more something...

I woke up easy to the frog song and lazed in bed, thinking of what to wear for a brunch date almost an hour away with my oldest friend who knew me when. I really should get up get dressed...drink some water, and wash the racoon under my eyes.

I woke up hungry and thirsty and maybe even slightly wheezy as is the norm for me. As I contemplated leaving the warm covers, the mister comes whistling in from his hike. My eyes snap open "I'm awake! I've been awake!" I always feel a little less good in the mornings in this family of early-risers. I roll out of bed and get dressed for the day. 

I woke up this morning thinking it was just like any other day. I dressed quickly, gulped a glass of water and had a slice of peanut butter pie for my first breakfast. I checked to make sure I wrote the directions to the brunch place and posted a photo to Instagram, read a Facebook message from another dear friend and sighed about, beginning my day, and then it hit me...

I woke up this morning thinking "it's my mother's birthday" and I missed her as deeply as I did on the day she died. With a gasp and a tear, I thought, oh how she would have liked to wake up to the song of frogs, the harsh screech-screech-screech of one very put out bluejay, the long whistles of goldfinches, and the less harsh but equally put out symphony of barks from my neighbor's dogs. She would have liked to see the peak, especially in it's spring green glory, she would have loved the whistling mister, and she would totally be down for peanut butter pie for breakfast. Happy birthday, Mamos.

and just like that....

I was in the car, on my way to work and I looked down at my right hand, thinking, "I need some lotion". Which made me think of my mother's hands and how they had no wrinkles which made me think of her face and how young she looked even if she wasn't as trim as she wanted to be which reminded me of how I look a lot like her and am also not nearly as trim as I once was. As I thought that, I wished she was there with me and just like that...

tears.

a little bit of holiday cheer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of my Mother's death. The day itself was not a hard day as I miss my mom pretty much all the time. But it did explain the meltdowns over microscopic things I have been having. Meltdowns, no matter how microscopic always make me feel small and petty. Embarrassing, really. My mother loved Christmas. The colors and sparkle of it all so instead of wallowing in sadness, the mama a-go-go and I put on some holiday tunes and set about decorating the homestead. It's not much but it's cheery.

Mother's Day: Basil Bounty

My mamos was a major plant lover. When she died, there were over a hundred bits of greenery planted in all sorts of wackery in her lovely homespace nestled into the corner of a stucco-ugly condo. There were plants in pots and bowls and jar. Plants in cowboy boots, old flour tins and glass bottles. To amp things up a bit, mamos was fond of the paint and glitter effect so other everyday planters became gilded in a most funky way. From old broken doll parts to lunchboxes and teapots her happy plants had happy if not somewhat disco-fied homes. I am so grateful that much of my design aesthetic comes from her. She was quite talented and people adored her! 

This year will mark twelve years since she died and while the sadness and heartache have faded a bit, it's still there as I suppose it will always be. Mother's day for me can be triple-y steeped in sadness but I try to focus on the good which is my mamos and her love of plants and cooking. This year I have a super quick gift idea that I know my mamos would have adored. 

A be-lovely basil bounty!

All you need is a selection of basil either home-sprouted or garden-store purchased, a handful or so of peat rocks, an awl or other sharp pointy tool, block of scrap wood and a pretty tin, I found mine at the thrift last week.

Place your tin on top of your scrap wood and puncture a series of holes using your awl or punch-tool.

This will help the water drain so your roots don't get too wet. using the wood block will both allow for easier puncturing and keep your work-surface puncture free.

Scatter a handful of small peat rocks or other gravel-y bits.

Gently remove your plants from their containers, taking care to gently squeeze at the roots to separate them a wee bit and place into the tin. I used three plants which almost perfectly filled the tin with soil. I still needed to add a handful of potting soil but that was it.

 Arrange as you will and give them a good watering, enough to dampen the soil, not drown them. Ta-da! A bee-yoo-tee-ful bounty of basil perfect for use in the kitchen this summer. That's the best part. It can be used up before it goes to seed as basil is an annual and will not last much longer than one season (which I am glad to know now as I thought I kept killing it). Happy Gardening and Happy Mother's Day to you lucky, lucky ones!

Happy Birthday Mamos

I wanted to write a beautiful post about all the ways my mom and I laughed. I wanted to write a letter to her sharing everything I am doing now and how proud of me she would be. I wanted to write about the ache of missing her and how sad I feel that she never got to meet the mister but when I started to write, I started to cry and today I don't want to cry. I want to remember her life with a smile on my face for all that I learned from this remarkable woman.

Oh bother...where did I leave the tissue?

Pretty. Productive.

It is super chilly in the casa and I am wearing two pairs of socks. I hate wearing shoes in the casa. Outside, the sky is crisp and blue and everything is just so pretty.

My dear Mamos passed away eight years ago today and while my brain clicks on the date, my spirits are high. Mamos loved Christmas and today I plan on making it happen here in the tiny casa. I will snack festively, wear something fun (even if it is santa lobster socks) and I will wrap presents, listen to holiday tunes, bake cookies and make some ornaments.

I am feeling motivated! Already I have washed three loads of laundry and documented three new projects for scrumdilly-do! I cleaned off the dining table but then piled stuff up on top of it again. I have sipped two cups of coffee with eggnog added and breakfasted on tangerines and gingerbread. Who said anything about it being a healthy day? Ooh and I received a fabulous fabric order from Sew Mama Sew. Yikes! So much goodness, I am still swooning from it. Pictures soon. I promise.

Gotta get cracking on scarves, gifts and a bit more cleaning. Happy Wednesday folks. Hug your loved ones for me, okay?

Happy Birthday Mamos!

Today would have been my Mother's 66th birthday. I miss her so much it still hurts and overwhelms me at times. She is around the same age as I am in this picture. I have no idea when they started filming for the flick. Her best friend's husband at the time was a producer for Universal and got them a gig as extras for a short while. This was a great big thing for my mom as she adored films so very much and was disabled with Lupus but was in the middle of a good period where her health soared and she was able to be productive. I don't remember much from this as I was only 5 or 6 but I do remember her smiles and laughter. She told me the lights almost knocked her out...Lupus doesn't do well with a whole lotta lights, brightness and activity but she had such a good time running around and hanging out with some guy in a hawaiian shirt named Bobby. Yup! If you ever find yourself watching New York, New York, keep an eye on the two ladies seated at the table behind Liza just before the champagne fight starts. That's my mamos and her friend! She told me how they had to spend hours pretend speaking and they could only say "Tomato". Later I would follow in her footsteps as an extra in The Doors. I had just recovered from a hellish chicken pox experience and had lost both my voice and had an ear infection. I was seated way way way in the back of the theater where Jim gets arrested on stage and spent most of my time reading my smuggled copy of The Vampire Lestat and then lipsynching "Light My Fire" when filming was happening. I was sad that I couldn't talk to anyone and mad that they put me in a dorky outfit which I of course restyled more to my liking the next day and no one noticed. If you watch The Doors and search search search for a girl in a giant white floppy hat with red polka dots, that's me! I did get to wear crushed velvet bell bottoms and eat all the donuts I wanted and Oliver Stone stepped on my foot while Kevin Dillon asked me if I was okay...oh and I got paid too! So, whoo-hoo!

When my mother was alive we would go thrift shopping on her birthday and then after she died I would go thrifting by myself holding a mental commentary of what she would like, not like, etc. I have school all day today so can't go but I did go yesterday and I think she was with me in spirit or maybe I'm just a little nutty. My mom was one cool lady who had a hell of a life. I am amazed at what she went through and sometimes I wanna knock some sense into her head but I can't. She did the best she could and with everything that was stacked up against her, I think she did a pretty good job. I am so grateful for what she taught me. I wouldn't be the me I am without the life we had. I love you Mamos. Wherever, whoever or whatever you are I hope you are at peace and eating some very good cake! Happy Birthday!

Photobooth Friday: vintage

This delightful young lady is my mom. I'm thinking this was taken when she was 16 or so but I could be mistaken. There is simply so much I could write about her but I don't know where to start. She was an amazing women who was dealt a very sad hand. I wouldn't wish the traumas that she went through on anyone but then again I am wouldn't be the person I am today if not for them. She was beautiful and full of hope, promise, crrativity and love and then life happened. She never got to realize her potential. She never beleived in herself. She based all of her self worth on my father and the fact that he walked out. Boy, did he walk out. I have probably mentioned this before but my mother did an amazing job at being my mom. She raised people's spirits when they were down. She was a listener and a good one and while she had every right to complain or vent herself, she never did. I tried to get her to, I tried. She spent 25 years of her life, my life, pining. Pining for a man who deserved nothing of the sort. Then, one day while I held a pity party for myself at the foot of her bed she came out of it. The look of wonder and amazement on her face for all those years wasted made my heart weep. Made my heart laugh. She came out of it. We laughed, we shopped, we made grand plans for the new mamos. We were partners in crime. We had a blast. She was 58 years old and she woke up. Less than six months later my mamos was gone. I miss her everyday. I miss her now. Take a cue from her and like the tacky plaque her cousin gave her when my brother died...when life gives you lemons, make lemonade...make lemonade with a little bit of spice.

More booth-o-rama (and hopefully happier):

hula seventy
JesC
acumamakiki
the anatomist

photobooth friday: bittersweet

Don't they just look dandy? My mom and dad met when she was 14 and he was 16. They married four years later. I remember my mamos telling me that my dad had to get permission from his mother to marry as he wasn't 21 years old. How funny in an odd sort of way. They were married in Pasadena, California. The chapel where they wed is just a shout from my school. It is still there. She designed her dress and all her bridesmaids' dresses and shocked the community when she picked a pregnant woman to be her matron of honor. They went to Disneyland for their honeymoon and then camping. She saved the receipt for groceries and it must have been almost a foot long while the total was under $10! They lived a fairly fairy tale life until life happened. The death of a sibling so very young, my mother's depression, my premature birth, mom's lupus diagnose and then the accidental death of a man at my father's hands all tumbled about one after the other. My father walked away taking my sister with him. I never saw him again (I was three) and work very hard at understanding my sister. So, when I look at this picture I can't help but feel sad. They are so happy here and they were happy for awhile. My dad's leaving so devastated my mother that she almost never recovered. She did, just barely, and for a few months she saw a light. A short few months. As sad as I feel, as angry as I can feel, I appreciate it, all the muck. For without any of the experiences I had as a result, I wouldn't be me. I wouldn't be jek.

Though sometimes I really wish I had been able to have had braces on my wonky teeth. Sigh.

more booth antics:

hula seventy
JesC
the whole self
LeSophie
acumamakiki
astray
jordis
Matt?!
woof nanny