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In just a few hours, I’ll be heartbroken again. My son will be getting on a plane and heading west. I’ve loved having him here and the time has flown by far too quickly.

In a couple of days, my daughter will be graduating from high school. She’s worked hard this summer to make up for what she didn’t accomplish during the school year. I’m very proud of her. Very proud. But it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to make it back to see her big moment. It breaks my heart to know I’ll be missing a milestone. I want to be there. I want to hug her and tell her how proud I am. I want her to see it in my eyes and hear it in my voice. And damn, now I’m getting all teary.

All of it…time…it just goes too quickly. There’s never enough time to do everything, to be everywhere, to experience all the things you want to experience. The kids grow so fast. The moments rush by in a blur. Memories come and go before you know it.

Heavy sigh.

Had to dig deep in the ol’ databank for these. If anyone else remembers them, I’ll be very surprised. We won’t even discuss the miles of satin on the man.

Got two new tires on the car yesterday. Yay! Back to being able to drive around without fear of a blowout. Saw that happen on the highway last night and it wasn’t pretty.

Had lunch with MOBD and Little Dude over at Famous Dave’s BBQ. Catfish and tri-tip, cornbread, firecracker green beans (with bacon!), and sweet yellow corn. It was delish. Then off to borrow a flash from MBT and shoot with my friend and his daughter. We put the kids together in the photos as much as they could. Miss A is a year or so younger than LD, but she’s just as tall if not taller, funny, sweet, and super pretty. We insisted upon attitude and got it as both are perfectly dramatic when they need to be. Especially when asked to look like they were boyfriend and girlfriend having a fight. LD has asked that I not post the photos on Facebook and I agreed. Kind of. I did not, however, agree to not post them on Flickr or here. Mwahahahaha!

Big bummer last night: I remembered the sparklers, forgot a lighter. And the car lighter didn’t work. So we’ll try again tonight. Also forgot the 10-22mm lens I’d borrowed from MOBD. D’oh! Very blonde. But at least I was out of the house! After being stuck indoors for two days with a migraine, it was good to get out and just do something, you know?

Gotta go get showered and out of the house for some lunch. MBT is owed food and I will make good on that promise. He just saved my butt, so it’s off we go!

As I was coming back from picking up prints for my rocker client, I get out of the car and notice there’s a big ass chunk missing from the tire. I do believe the universe is trying to tell me something.

Oh, and when I got my prints? Problem. They had to reprint all but one.

And the big show we were going to see tonight (comped tickets and all)? Had to cancel. Now way to get the tire fixed and the others replaced before we needed to leave.

Thankfully, LD is okay with it all. And he’s been wonderfully sweet and supportive today. God bless him. God bless Curtis, Brian, Jeff, and Terrell, too, for making me laugh and helping me find center again. And God bless all of you for your kind words and prayers.

I just may make it through this day.

I really, really don’t want this to be a bad day. I want to spend time with my son and enjoy our visit. I want to feel good. I want to be happy. But it’s not a good day and I’m feeling beyond frustrated.

Allow me to elucidate.

The apartment situation from San Diego has become ridiculous. The company that owns the property has…oh, how I want to be polite about this…someone dealing with me who should not be dealing with the public. In our last few phone calls, she’s been snippy and insulting. The owner is out of town, of course. We won’t even discuss the piece of crap who manages the apartment complex. I’m out of patience on this thing. Seriously out of patience and I’m getting nowhere with any of them.

And…I think part two will be password protected…

It would be entirely too easy to point back to my post about Rob for this one, so I’m going to avoid that. I’m actually going to share a little something that hits very close to home. Something that’s been very much on my mind this past week.

Once upon a time, that was Little Dude. Now he’s basically as tall as I am, his voice is deepening, and he’s occasionally selectively deaf to my voice. In other words, he’s a teenager.

I actually started tearing up the other night as I was going through photos of him now and stumbled across photos of him way back when. It seems like yesterday, but it wasn’t.

And then there’s Mojo.

She’s going to officially be graduating from high school next week (finally!) and I want very much to be there. I remember clearly her first day of school and now she’s graduating? How does this happen? Where does the time go? WHY? WHY? WHY?

And then give a big sigh and just accept that time does not stand still. If it did, it would have frozen back when my ass was still fairly tight and relatively small(ish), my breasts were still perky, and my stomach essentially flat.

Thanks for the walk down memory lane, Deb.

Now, listen carefully: I don’t like Shania Twain. Or rather, I hated what she became. That super polished and fashion-y poser. The songs below? A look at how good she once was. The second video is one of my early favorites from CMT.

I understand the desire to capitalize on whatever gifts one has been given, but to bank so heavily on looks rather than substance, well, it rubs me the wrong way. Especially because Shania possesses a great deal of talent. Yes, she reached a whole new level of fame and was able to make great money, however there were many people who turned away because they couldn’t just enjoy the music without having all that Twain-ness constantly rubbed in their faces. I was one of those people. Sure, there were a couple songs here and there that I could listen to and separate from her, mostly after I stopped watching any sort of music TV or country awards shows.

Instead of dwelling on the negative, I’ve decided to embrace what I liked most about Shania Twain in the first place.

I ♥ Faces Week 29 entry - obviously Curtis has a lot going on above him. New lights at the Las Vegas Country Saloon made the stage area look like a much larger concert venue and make him look ever the more rock star that he truly is.

Finally found the latest episode of Deadliest Catch online and it was devastating to watch. LD chose not to watch so he quietly sat near me and held my hand whenever I started to cry. And I did cry.

As a parent, as a child, I totally got where both Jake and Phil were coming from, but it didn’t help knowing somehow that Jake had just said goodbye to his father face to face for the last time and that Phil was giving him his blessing to learn how to live life sober and without a father.

While I’m sure that much of the editing this season was done to emphasize Phil’s ultimate fate, the simple fact is that he gave voice to the knowledge that time was running out and somehow he felt it. It weighed on him. And all the pressure on the boys was for their sake as well as his. His desire to see his sons succeed seemed to be at the forefront of his mind.

Then Josh getting the call that he needed to return to the hospital because Phil had an “event”…just as he was returning with his dad’s lucky necklace…too much. But the clincher was Josh calling Jake to tell him their dad was gone.

Every time I think I’m done shedding tears, something strikes me again in a new way and I’m back at it. LD’s never far away and offers me a smile or a hug. He’s decided he’ll watch the whole season at once on DVD. I get that. By then, he hopes Phil’s death will be less shocking.

Don’t even start me on the Johnny Cash. I’ll lose it again.

We spent the majority of the day out with wild horses. Little Dude was suitably awed. Even more awed whenever one would approach him.

I was fascinated by how many of the horses we saw were sporting leg feathers (wonderful tufts of hair on fetlocks), especially this far into summer — and it was hot up there, just not as hot as it is down here. That was another thing: it may have been around 90 or so up there, but it’s currently 115 in the backyard. Tell me where you’d rather hang out!

We saw various bands of horses, including the group with my little colt from the other day. The real finds were 1) the white horse, 2) Mr. One Ear, who obviously has battled for his role as leader, 3) and three foals who surrounded my one photog buddy and trapped him amongst the brush. That, my friends, was pure comedy gold there. Bjorn was a little freaked out by it, but we laughed. Seriously, these three were nothing short of adorable and the worst they could do to you was cute you to death. Or snot you. Little Snickerdoodle, the tiniest of the three (and yes, that’s his name…he told me!), snotted me but good. Oh well, for what it’s worth, it’s the best snot ever. And the cutest.

Now we must recover from all the cute and all the awesome. And we also must call my mom back and wish her a happy birthday yet again.

I know Jihad Gene usually does a Friday dance party and Leslie usually jumps on the bus (oh snap! Did you just see what I did there?), but Little Dude and I decided to start our Saturday with a dance-off because we’re just that weird. Shocking, I know.

We did NOTHING yesterday and it was wonderful. Okay, I did dishes since the handle/lock on the dishwasher decided not to work, and I made food, but that was pretty much it. And we listened to a lot of music. There was that. But now we’re adequately rested and it’s time for música y baile! Usually when we get to this point, we default to Zucchero. Why should today be any different?

Happy Saturday, everyone!

MBT and my MOBD joined up with LD and me for a drive out to the dry lake bed for a night shoot. Wasn’t sure what we were going to do exactly, but we ended up with LD as model as we played with lighting. Scary part: LD had on a red shirt. I had on a red shirt. MOBD had on a red shirt. When we went to pick up MBT…red shirt. We looked like some dorky tourist family, or we would have if there’d been anyone around to see us. We did stop to have a late night breakfast on the way back. Once home, Little Dude (who is now officially at least the same height as me) promptly went upstairs and fell asleep.

P.S. It was only about 104 out at the lake bed at 9pm. Then the wind started. Hot wind. It was oddly nice.

A rerun from August 2002 (which I also reran in March 2004), for Pam. Since I’m going to be spending the next 24 hours hanging all over everything my LD has to say…here ya go:

The Peach

4th of July, 2001. I had to work. On the 1st I went to the store to stock up on food to take as lunch. Standing in the produce department, looking at all the fruits and vegetables, I pondered and weighed my choices. I wanted fruit that would transport me to that perfect summer day, complete with clear blue skies, light breezes, warmth, and the sounds of people enjoying themselves. I mean, if I had to be sitting in a hospital surrounded by sick kids, I wanted, in spirit and food, to feel like I was participating in the holiday as much as my imagination allowed.

I saw a stack of plums. Yum. But not exactly the fruit that screamed summer. Apples. Nah….those are available all year. Watermelon? Clichéd. Nah….I wanted something. Something special. And then I spied them.

Georgia peaches. That was just what I wanted! But, how to pick one perfect peach that would be of just the correct ripeness on the 4th. I went over. I inhaled that peachy goodness. I could almost smell the fuzz. I could imagine the first beautiful ripe bite of slightly chilled perfection. I could almost feel the fuzzy skin on my lips and my tongue. I could sense the juices in my mouth meeting the sweet and slightly tart flesh of that peach. I could almost feel the pit against my two front teeth after enthusiastically biting in too deep. Shaking myself out of my stupor, I went about gingerly examining each one. How quickly would they ripen? It was warm…..things ripen too quickly if it’s too warm. What if it didn’t ripen enough?

I spied a produce guy helping a few people select some melon. Dare I ask? I take too much pride in being able to gauge the quality of my foods. It would be cheating, wouldn’t it? Ugh. I went over to the deli counter and bought some fried chicken. It was too hot to make it myself. Plus, this particular store had PERFECT fried chicken and that’s what I wanted. Nothing says summertime picnic like fried chicken if you’re being denied hotdogs and burgers. Standing in line at the deli, I looked longingly at the harvested goods 10 feet away. Decisions. The produce guy was actually kind of cute. Why not walk over and ask for help. Maybe he’ll decide I’m cute and ask me out. What the hell…….why not?

Chicken in basket, I wandered back over to the peaches. I checked again to see if I felt confident enough to choose my own. No such luck. I looked up and saw the produce guy looking in my direction and basically gave him the “oh, my…..what do I do here?” look. He came over. He asked if he could be of assistance.

Looking back up, I said, “I’m trying to find the perfect peach for the 4th of July. I want a peach that makes me feel 100% like I’m in the middle of the best summer day ever from the first bite.” (I’m so clever…not.)

He said, “Well, I’m not sure we have any of those. You’re going to eat this today? When?”

“On the 4th. I have to work. I’m spending 12 hours in a hospital (like my ID badge and scrubs didn’t already give that one away) and am being denied the full festive experience.”

“Okay. Let me see…..” he said, in his nice mellow voice.

I looked at his hands while he was doing this (not for a ring, though none was present, but for an idea of the kind of guy he was) and noticed that he had short, thick fingers. Clean. Strong looking. I watched how he handled the peaches. I watched how he gently pressed to judge ripeness without bruising the fruit.

Finally, he handed me three peaches and told me they were the best of the bunch. He said, “This one is the one that should be perfect on the 4th. If it gets too hot in the next couple days and this softens too much, this one is the next best choice. If it cools off considerably in the next day or so, eat this one. I can’t guarantee the ‘perfect’ summertime experience, but you’ll like how these taste. I promise that.”

I said, “And what if I don’t? What do I get then?”

He said, with a smile, “Come back and ask for Joe. That’s me. I’m the manager. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Thanks, Joe. If these aren’t perfect - I’ll be back looking for you. Might even come back if they are perfect just to thank you.”

“Very good. I work Mondays and Wednesday through Sunday. I’ll be looking for you.”

I smiled and left with my glorious Georgia peaches, thinking about those hands and the taste of summer fruit. I had to eat one peach the next day because it ripened too quickly. One disappeared. I think my daughter ate it. The one that I took to work was exactly everything that I’d hoped it would be. EXACTLY! It was summer in a fuzzy skin.

I’d been so busy at work that I forgot to go back to the store for a couple of weeks. When I went back, I looked for Joe. I didn’t see him anywhere. Not even on his regularly scheduled days. Finally, after two weeks of looking I asked another guy if Joe was around and he told me that Joe had been promoted to a regional produce manager and wasn’t at the store anymore. He’d been given the job on the 7th. It figured.

Oh well. I had the perfect peach.

Let’s just call it a recurring theme. One you should get all comfy with.

I started this post on the 12th. I had a random list of things that struck me as bloggable, but perhaps not individually. So I was going to throw them all in under the guise of one “real post” (let us all laugh at that one) when lo and behold! Deb’s PROMPTuesday this week is to make a list! I love her. But I want my brain back. Or at least I want her to knock on the window before she peeks in.

1) Apparently I do respond to the name “Bitch”. Buster and his friends were downstairs on Monday jamming away. They finished a song and were talkin’ smack amongst themselves and then I heard “bitch”…so I walked over to the landing and said, “you called?” They laughed. I laughed.

2) I am funnier than people think. So after responding to “bitch”, I was asked to make drinks. “What kind?” “Whatever.” “Fine, the boys in the band ordered boat drinks.” I laughed at my own cleverness. It’s Jimmy Buffett. It’s funny. Okay, maybe only to me.

3) I need a creeper (the under car sort) to scoot around a stage at this point because my knee isn’t working at all. Evidence of my inability to move is contained in this set. I should have been all around that stage!

4) I should have had my head examined for not buying a car 5 months ago. I can’t find anything decent and my budget is now practically non-existent.

5) I take way too many photos. 631 at a friend’s show. There were, at most, 12 people there by the time I left. There had only been three when I got there. The lighting was too good to pass up, though.

6) I lack the ability (okay, I lack the desire) to group anything on this list in a way that flows.

7) Little Dude will be here in a few hours!

8) I have duplicate songs on a playlist. I see them. I don’t delete one. Why? WHY?

9) Still being sued for eviction on the apartment I left back in November and now the landlord and company that owns the building are playing games. I know the former roommate is out because I saw mention of it on Facebook (the single most evil and beneficial tool on the internet). I’d like to scream.

10) On the 20th, my attorney meets with the insurance company in court so the judge can tell them to do what they were ordered to do in March and maybe I’ll once again be on medications so I won’t feel like crap all the time. Tylenol ain’t workin’.

11) I’m super excited because any minute now the new Crowded House CD, Intriguer, will appear in my mailbox. Oh, and there’s a reissue of Concrete Blonde music out, too!

And I’m done.

How about some Shelby Lynne?