Brine

I like the word. I like pickles, salt, salt, and more salt. I like the way the word immediately evokes the faces made by the mental tasting of it. To speak–to eat. From Lemony Snicket’s Briney Beach, to Spongebob’s underwater sea. Were those cartoons made before the super-brine lakes were discovered under the ocean, or after that?

Maybe it was the last pickle, lonely in the jar, spurned by my children, that put me back in my dark place, but it made me consider just how much I appreciate the saline, the bitter, the sour.  Especially in words.  They seem to evoke their physical counterparts as no other words can. 

Are there really people who don’t enjoy cynicism and negativity?  I can’t fathom.  What would I be without them (the words, not the optimists), for life continually seems to verify and support my use/need for them.

G. De la Smarme

Unspoken rules

There’s an unspoken rule in our house, which is this: nobody touches another man’s “Nuge” or another man’s “c-bah.”  I suppose this requires a bit of explanation.  Nuge is a stuffed monkey (not real, duh), and named by Liam, who, upon picking him out of a pile of other stuffed things, declared: “NOOOOGENT!” with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm for an 8-month old.  He hasn’t been without Nuge for very long since.  Finn, however, prefers a blanket he calls c-bah, and giggles uncontrollably when presented with the piece of fabric. 

We’ve been going to the park on a fairly frequent basis as I become braver and outings become more necessary for everyone’s mental health, and pledging that I will take them to the park seems to be the only way they will voluntarily go running with me any longer.  Going to the park means taking Nuge, and I have long since dreaded that we would leave him there.  Liam has been really good with him though, and proves his stripes as a monkey by thoroughly grooming his monkey on the way home (removing splinters/mulch from the animal while he asks it if it had fun).  He’s a really good monkey mom.

Yesterday, however, we were in a hurry.  I wanted to get my run in before Nana arrived, and I also wanted to make some dinner and cookies (what can I say, I was feeling ambitious, and the house was clean).  So, Nuge got dropped a few time on route to the slides and other park-y things.  Finn was quick to let Liam know he had dropped the Nuge, by standing over it and yelling, “Mmm-na! (Liam) Noooge!”.  I thought it rather curious that he never actually touched the Nuge.  Then, I realized that Liam has never really picked up C-bah either. 

Liam was busy, neither of them wanted to go quietly, so much howling ensued, and in my haste, I didn’t register that Liam was trying to explain that he had left Nuge at the park.  At bedtime, when we were frantically searching the house, I finally understood.  Finn looked at Liam and sweetly lamented, Nooo Nooooooge,” in a most distressed and worried voice.

I attempted to quell Liam’s agitation with twin puppies, Mac and Cheese, but it did no good.  I finally fessed up to him that we left Nuge, and that he was probably still playing at the park.  I don’t know whether Liam was angrier that we left him, or at the idea that he was still playing while Liam had to be inside and go to bed. 

I read them their Harry Potter, tucked them in, and then did a bad bad thing.  I left them alone in the house and got into the car and raced to the park in the darkness.  I would have waited until morning, but I felt for Liam.  Who hasn’t left a childhood treasure behind somewhere by accident.  My heart was breaking and arrhythmic for him. 

I got to the park (very close to the house/in our hood), screeched into the parking lot, past a new father and his band of Jack Russels and one gigantic black lab.  He was walking his baby, probably to get it to sleep, as I was careening into the park. 

My giant maglight in hand, I rushed through the gates, actually calling to the damn monkey.  I rushed to the spot where I had last seen him, and was crushed not to see him there (and quite aware of how ridiculous I looked with my flashlight).  I frantically turned my eyes toward the benches, and was broken hearted to see that he wasn’t there either. 

Then, I turned around to the last possible place, and some benevolent being, please bless whoever found Nuge and sat him on the bench!!!!  I raced home and spent only a fraction of a second deciding to take the Nuge to Liam right away, instead of waiting until morning.  Finn was already asleep, but Liam was restless, playing with a toy and whispering to himself.  I handed him the Nuge, and his eyes widened.  They got even wider when I explained that Nuge had still been at the park.  Cold though he was, Liam cuddled him right away, his head immediately hit the pillow, and not a sound was heard from him.

Hooray for the understanding mothers and or kind hearted children who left Nuge where he was!

Very grateful,

Pru

Pie?

So, Finn requested cheese rather than my famous pecan pie. I worry about that. Maybe, the pie he had prior this holiday was so horrible that he didn’t dare revisit it. That was my point in going through the trouble to make a pie in the first place. But his request of cheese over pie got me to thinking: do people really put cheese on their fruit pies? Who does that, and why? Was it a simple matter of cheddar cheese being the only dairy product in the entire fridge? Was there nothing remotely close to whipping cream in the house? I think I’d rather have a pie without, thank you.

This holiday season also made me more than thankful for friends. The best holidays I have ever had have been with friends, and not with family (unless you count extreme childhood, like before you realized how messed up everyone was, and thought that all of your aunts and uncles got together because they genuinely liked one another, and you).

I want the boys to feel like they are the center of attention at Christmas, and that hasn’t happened for the last two holidays, or the last two years of their lives (the only two years of their lives).

I’ve been thinking quite fondly of the holidays we have had with just friend-family. I liked those. Walt, Mrs. Walt, Walt Jr, and Walt’s sister’s family all made me realize that to an extra extent tonight. Maybe it is just the wine that Walt said was terrible (which I could’nt even taste), but I miss spending the holidays with the group of people that I love, not because they have to love me, but because they genuinely do, and I love them. So, Cheers to friends–the best kind of family around. The people who always make you feel like you are important, even when you are being a shit, and everyone knows it.

So, here’s to a new year, and a new class taught by someone much younger, who actually had a “label” for the movement that we didn’t have one for: “Goth.” Yes, I am taking a class taught by a smarmy goth kid…quick! where is my dog collar?!

Pru.