Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Ya's Ya's, Dancing with Elephants


Our small chapter started with the realization that we were simply good for each other's soul. When together, we didn't necessarily dwell on the maladies that existed below the forced smiles. Death, illness, pain, hurt, questions, anxieties..... Somehow for a short spell while we were together, the elephant in the room disappeared. And then as life does, it proved that there was always going to be an elephant and if there is, we might as well dance with it. And dance we do.... Midnight in pajamas ~Soul Train style~ around the kitchen island as the blender chops our ice into a magical Pina Colada concoction while Harry Nilsson's song ~Lime in the Coconut~ plays on the IPOD docking station. But, it's so much more now. It doesn't end when the blender goes into the dishwasher. We draw from it, we give it wings (or brooms.)  No matter where we are, we are connected and protected by the strength of our unity.
We have our Ya Ya Sisterhood generated names. Duchess Culture Vulture, Empress She Sings In The Rain and Queen of Chocolate. That's right, there were a grand total of three Ya Ya's. We had the smallest chapter in the nation for seven years. It was painfully obvious how selfish we were as we sat with our umbrella drinks at Coconut Joe's one lazy Saturday afternoon. The hostess paraded a group of 15 T-shirt professed Ya Ya's by us. I went over to talk to them and they told me that most had flown in from other states to be together. One asked "How many are in your group?"  I sheepishly replied "Three."  We have done better since then. We are four with the addition of Princess Fresh as a Daisy.  And...we have two new inductees this spring!
Initiation is hilarious and top secret. But requirement's are simple.
Leave the drama for the Llamas.
Ability to say and hear truth.
Availability at three o'clock in the morning for an ear bender if needed.
 Accept each others individuality and inadequacies.
Ability to lift or drag fair share of up to 250 pounds of dead weight.
Decisions are made by unanimous votes. e.g., On a Ya Ya trip to North Carolina, two Ya Ya's decided that one Ya Ya's choice of music sucked. Her Melinda Doolittle CD shines on for the Magpie today off of I-40 between Columbia and Charlotte.
Ya Ya's are women who can put lipstick on in the dark, but slice a green tomato with their tongue. They have steel resolve (shovels, guns and cauldrons.)  They are fierce as Eagles, talons sharpened and ready to defend family or loved ones. They can put on a shin dig like you have never seen, Top Chef or Roadside Diner.
Think... Witches of Eastwick, Practical Magic, Ya Ya Sisterhood, Steel Magnolias, Beaches, Cocktails and Fried Green Tomatoes all rolled up into one.
This past weekend as I sat in the room with the Ya Ya's I looked around and realized there were a lot of elephants in the room today. I thought of all of the past elephants. Memories now, a new circus arrives to replace them. But... Oh, how often this group of gals has rallied over the years for each other and danced those elephants right out of the room.
Seconds later the laughter rings out as Duchess appears with ~The Broom~ We all take our turn at making it stand by itself. Our powers are limited only by what we refuse to believe and is at it's strongest when we are together. Actually, one of us can talk warts off, but only if you get her before her third glass of wine.
We all like to think we have a special power and we do but we are strongest when we are together. Our power comes from Love, Faith, Sprinkled with a little imagination and dogged fortitude.
And to think, if we had waited for those elephants to leave, we would have never danced.

Friday, March 8, 2013

God Smacked, Karma, Eating Crow....


God smacked, Karma, Entertaining angels, Dancing with the devil, Murphy's law. Call it what you will, I call it typical. One sleepy morning a few weeks back, Don and I are sitting on couch watching the morning news, a hypnotic drone to waken gently while drinking coffee. Any-day USA stuff, basically a comma or an occasional period placed on a story sucked dry from days/weeks/months earlier.
And then...the announcer introduces Jonathan Gilliam, a former Navy seal who had the idea to start a program for vets searching for employment as nannies. Slurping my coffee, still blase'. I am supremely patriotic, but I'm not grasping this. Fog hasn't lifted maybe. Mr Gilliam and the news announcer introduce one of their prime candidates for the nanny vet program, titled Tactical Nannies. I will condense the interview to get to the point of my own story. It started like this; "Ms. Smith, would you tell our audience what qualities you have as a veteran that would entice a family to hire you as their nanny." he asks.
My coffee is getting lukewarm, thinking about getting up and reheating it. The nanny replies, "Well, the training that we have for one thing" and she stops. "And what would that training be Ms Smith? the announcer asks. "Well, we are trained to be aware of our surroundings. We do things like notice things that aren't right, like a tree that wasn't there before." she answers.  
 Ok..it started with a chuckle and then a giggle and then Don starts and we are cracking up. I am having visions of stalkers with cardboard cut out trees in the parks. The gaff didn't go unnoticed and the news announcer switched over quickly to Mr. Gilliam but didn't ask him to elaborate, he looked grateful.
Don and I are still laughing. "Those damn pop up tree's will get you every time" we say.  A few minutes later I have a nano second of guilt. I felt bad for the girl and knew that comment was going to follow her for a bit. But then I peel out in laughter again. We do that sometimes don't we? Laugh at inappropriate things at the expense of another person's flaws or inadequacies. Lord knows I have provided endless material myself.                            
Another twinge of guilt as I am washing up the dishes. I think back to a few of my Freudian slips.
One of my worst... Don had just received a promotion at work on a Friday, we gathered the kids that evening and went to Red Lobster. We are sucking crab legs and slurping butter when per chance, Don's boss and his wife walk in and are being led to their table near us. They stop and we small talk about the coincidence. His boss tells us that they are celebrating his wife's fiftieth birthday. What I meant to say was "Happy Birthday, You don't look a day of it", what came out was, "Happy Birthday, you look everyday of it."  I am still slurping legs and look up quizzically as the entire table and guest are giving me the shocked face. The hostess is leading his boss and wife away and they are telling me what I said. I apologize, but you can tell the damage was done.                                                                                                                                              
Dishes done, coffee finished, time to get this day on the move. Don goes to bed, he is working third shift. I run out to do chores. I notice in the parking lot that I picked up the wrong keys. I decided to take Don's big truck rather than go back in and get my keys.

A little later, I am backing out of this narrow drive, that I shouldn't have pulled into. I am using the mirrors but got too close to shrubs on the left side so as I am correcting that situation, I hear a loud pop. I look over and the right rear view mirror is hanging down. A damn pop up tree ripped it right off!
I stop by Lowes on the way home and get some Gorilla glue. I am in the parking lot piecing the mirror together with a bungee cord while squirting copious amounts of Gorilla glue onto it, all while praying that I can make it look like it never happened.  My neighbor noticed my pensive look as I head back inside to get a towel to get the dripping glue off the mirror. "You alright Renae?" he asks.  I wave him on..."Nothing serious, just a pop up tree." I answered.
Don wakes up and I tell him "You know that pop up tree we were laughing about this morning? He grins, "Yes" he says.
"Well, one popped up and took your right rear view mirror right off. I say sheepishly. He's not grinning now.
Karma.






Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Piddlin in Dixie by Renae Brabham

It's here! ~ Piddlin in Dixie ~ is a collection of true southern stories that are sure to give you a belly laugh, make you grab a Kleenex or bless your heart!  Get your copy today at Amazon! Life off the beaten path in the low-country makes for some good tales.

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