Cotton Garden Dresses

    I wore a sleeveless sundress up to my garden this evening.  Typically, I wear my yoga clothes or a bathing suit top, but I had gone down to the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament earlier and had my dress on still when I decided at dusk to go pick some tomatoes.  I picked a lot of tomatoes and folded my skirt up halfway to hold them all.  I walked happily back toward my house, holding my dressful of tomatoes.  As I reached the door there she was, very briefly, smiling back at me from my reflection in the glass: My grandmother Williams.  I went on into the kitchen and put down my hull, and then stopped a moment to remember the woman who taught me how to garden so many summers ago.

    It was her last summer she was living here on Earth, although none of us had any idea at the time.  The summer of 1979, I was 10 years old and my dad's mother, Grandma Williams had to have cataract surgery.  This was at a time when it was still an actual surgery and not a laser procedure and she was not allowed to stoop or bend for 6 weeks, so I was recruited to stay with her at her house and help her.  It was ideal for both of us.  I got to get off of the farm and spend the summer "in town" and she didn't have to wait for my mom and dad to come over to be able to do things.

    One of my biggest jobs would be to keep up the garden that had taken the entire backyard since my grandmother's farming family moved to the city in the early 1900s.  I was no stranger to helping with the garden.  I lived on a family farm with my parents and cousins, but also helped my grandmother pick mostly green beans and apples to this point.  She also had the whole family hike miles into the woods with her each summer to fill milk jugs full of wild blackberries for her to preserve and to use in cobblers in addition to what she grew.  This year though, I would do all of the weeding and staking and picking so that my grandmother's eye could heal.

    Each day we would make our way down the sloping property from the house to the garden.  As we walked she, as a former teacher would tell me the name of each flower and tree in the big yard and quiz me.  I remember her telling me to get any of the bright tomatoes before the birds saw them and would be attracted to them.  She would hold out her skirt of one of her cotton sleeveless dresses and I would bend for her and fill it with tomatoes.  I can still see her in her blue one with white polka dots with her two bobby pins holding the white bangs of her curly short bob off of her forehead.  Her voice has faded a little from my memory, but I can still see her face clearly, looking down at me from her almost 6 foot height and her beautiful blue eyes and sweet smile.  I have been thankful these last 35 years especially for that last summer that was just me and my grandmother, and maybe never more than today when I realize, that even though she died at the beginning of September 1979, she visited here briefly to remind me that it is not because I am becoming a middle aged Southern lady that I have felt this compulsion to grow tomatoes, but because I am Pauline's granddaughter. 

Baraka Allahu Lakuma

  Jamal is getting married today; maybe even right now, and I could not be happier. This is what he wanted. This is what I knew would happen. He was a great love of my life. It was an earth rotation stopping kind of love. When we were together life was effortless and everything was perfect, even with all of the underlying imperfection of the relationship. He was a Saudi national, but came to the U.S. frequently as a student and then for work and pleasure. He loves the U.S. and has traveled the country extensively. He always thought he would marry an American. I knew him well enough to know that he would not. His family ties were much too strong. That, combined with the fact that he wanted 6 children and did not want to get married until age 40, made it even more likely that he would return to the Kingdom and marry a nice Saudi girl. In 2009 was the last time we traveled together. The last time I saw him was 2 years later in 2011. We had lunch and he presented me with gifts he had collected for me over the previous 2 years: from Mecca, Turkey, Iran and Kuwait. They were gifts with deep meaning that showed clearly that even though we did not have a future he thought about me and cared. I was thrilled for him last fall, a few months after his fortieth birthday, when I received the email that he was engaged, to a nice Saudi girl. His friend had married her sister. He described the woman as “his perfect match.” “Mashallah, my brother,” was my sincere reply. In these months leading up to this day, he has sent me the usual New Year, birthday and Mother’s Day greetings, along with questions about different tourist attractions he was considering while planning his honeymoon here in the States and thanks for my assistance.


  I am happy today because someone I loved and care about has fulfilled a dream and is opening a new, and hopefully wonderful chapter of his life. Coincidentally, yesterday would have been my 25th wedding anniversary had the marriage not gone down in flames 17 years ago. All of this causes me to continue my constant questioning, and the question I ask myself is do I want to remain single for the rest of my life? I knew 10 years ago that I wanted to be single. I thought that maybe by the time I was 40 I would consider getting married. Here now at 44 ½, I am sure and yet not so sure of what I want. I am perfectly happy being single as in not married and not in a relationship, and the old saying, “Don’t fix it if it ain’t broke,” comes to mind. On the other hand, I think it’s nice to have someone to do things with now that my children are busy with their own family and friends. I guess the simple answer is at the moment, if I’m not sure I am ready to share my life, then I am probably not. Maybe by 50.

  As for Jamal and his new bride, I hope that they are blessed with the six children that I was not willing to give him and a lifetime of happiness.

In search of partner for hiking, occasional plus one and neck/shoulder massages....I will reciprocate.  No tobacco products.  That is all.

My Single Self

The other day I kept seeing the Facebook status “Honey Booboo’s mom has a boyfriend and you’re still single…let that sink in.” Well, first I had to look up who Honey Booboo was and exactly why it was so funny that she had a boyfriend while others were single, because I am kind of busy keeping up with real issues instead of reality TV. After a quick Google search I saw the humor of the status, and although I am one of those “still singles” I did find it funny because I often get the, “Why are you single?” question more often than necessary. I’ve never felt the need to make a blanket statement about this, because it is after all, my business as to why I remain outside of a monogamous relationship, but for some reason today, I don’t feel the need to defend, but to simply enlighten whoever chooses to delve into my logic.

A few years ago an acquaintance thought they had the answer. He said, “You just want to be an international hoochie!” He of course was referring to the fact that I when I do date or travel that it usually ends up being a person from some faraway land (and in some cases just another state). He wrongly made the assumption that I have a lot of boyfriends, as opposed to the truth of the matter that I have a lot of male friends. I also have a lot of female friends, and being that I am a 43 year old woman supporting myself, I have the freedom of choice to travel or house either my male or female friends. So, although his original statement was insulting, it wasn’t entirely off base in that one reason I don’t pursue a traditional relationship is that I like to be able to travel where and with whom I choose.

The second and most important reason for not only remaining single, but maintaining only longer-distance relationships is because I have never felt that I have enough time to spend with my three wonderful children (now, also a grandson) and there is just not enough of me to share my time on any regular basis with another person. Life already cuts into my family time enough without trying to squeeze another person in on a daily basis. Long distance works better because I can schedule time spent with those friends around the times that my children already have other plans.

The last important reason is that I simply don’t seem to play well with others on a long term basis. I understand that this could change with the right person, but I have not met that person yet. Even the people in my life (outside of my family) that are most important, are only truly tolerable for about 10 days on end! I have proven this time and again on many trips with friends. I am still capable of having a good time, but it is always at day number 10 (straight) that I began to get antsy and notice the “little things,” begin to aggravate my usually easy going demeanor.

Like I said, these situations could change, given the exactly right person. I have met many “almost rights,” but I have yet to meet the perfect fit. That does not mean the “perfect person;” I am well aware that doesn’t exist, nor am I in any way, shape or form perfect, but I have tough standards on which I am not likely to back down. Baggage is my biggest issue, and yes, I am aware that is a double standard since children usually fall under this category, but I know for any relationship of regularity, I would prefer someone to not have children on an everyday basis or completely grown and independent children. I know me, and I am a wonderful mother and grandmother, but a “step” anything, we would have to see. The second standard is just as much of a challenge, as I don’t do drama and this person would not have any lingering exes. My preference is never married, but since I don’t have any real contact with either of my exes, I do understand that it is possible to make a clean break. The other hard and fast standard is that this person would have to be as tolerant as I am. I have friends of many races, religions, cultures and sexual orientations and the deal breaker would be that someone would say something insulting any of my friends.

So, after this little tirade it would seem that I will remain single as I have been for more than a decade. I’m not looking per se, but I simply keep my eyes open for the one person as adventurous, outdoorsy, hard-working, unbiased, unencumbered and nonjudgmental as I am. It’s a big world and I have no problem with “keeping my eyes open” while trampling all over it!
Peace, Namaste and Asalaam Alaykum y’all!

My Magic Shoes

I have not blogged all summer, despite all of my good ideas, thoughts and intentions, and here I am today about to go all Forest Gump on you and offer nothing but musings about my magic shoes. I am in the midst of a week of crazy coincidence and heavy heartedness over things as far away as Syria and as close to home as friends and family who are going through trials, and while all of this is on my mind and I certainly have strong opinions on the subject matter, I am finding a happy place and doing a shameless product plug for a pair of shoes. My friends seem to like to hear my opinion on all sorts of things, so like the advice that Forest's mother gave to him, I may do you some good by telling you about a pair of shoes that you cannot wear out. I've tried.

It was maybe 3 years ago that I was in the JCPenney Outlet Store in Decatur, Alabama that I came across what to others might be viewed as the ugliest pair of sandals on the planet, but since I am a diehard Birkenstoker, to me they were beautiful, AND were my size. I paid $14.99 for them. It was not until recently, when I thought about replacing them that I found they retail at right around $80, although I am not surprised. These sandals were magic from the moment I put them on. For those of you who have never seen me in the flesh, I am almost 6 feet tall and wear a size 38DD bra...my feet have to be quite sturdy, or I would simply fall forward. I have big and wide feet and comfort to me is the most thrilling thing of which I can think! I forget where I actually wore my Eastland sandals for the first time, but I have not wanted to take them off since that day. They have been on every major excursion I have undertaken in the past 3 years. They have been hiking in the Sahara desert and worn into the Mediterranean Sea. They have been to WalMart, West Virginia, Texas. They can be soaked with water while working out in the yard and polished to go out to the coffee shop. There is not a crack in the leather or a stitch missing.

So, am I drunk or just crazy for blogging about a pair of sandals? Neither. I am just sharing something that makes me happy; to find a little reliability in a world of slipping sand. Take a minute and think about your old faithful and see if it doesn't give you a spiritual lift to remember something you can count on. Go ahead, give it a try.

The World Came to Us

I have had so many ideas for this blog over the past year that I usually have ended up overwhelmed and simply not written anything. That is all about to change. Since it is the 10th anniversary of my move to Cullman, AL , I thought that writing about how I came to be here and a summary of the things that have come to pass in these past 10 years would be an appropriate place to start. I hope you think so too.


Last week, a friend of mine with whom I grew up in Morgantown, WV was passing through and decided to stop by and visit. We had both struck out from the West Virginia hills shortly after our high school graduation. I moved to West Palm Beach and he to Houston, TX. He is now a director of a company that manages hospitals nationwide and thankfully, my old friend has several hospitals to check on in Alabama now and then, and we can catch up. During our most recent conversation, he asked me the question that I have been asked numerous times over the past 10 years, “WHY Cullman, AL?” So, being the 10 year anniversary of my Jonah-esque arrival on these shores, this is how I explained to my buddy how I came here, and the world came to me.

In 2002 I was living up the road in Morgan County in a nice house that I simply could not afford after my divorce. So, deciding that I needed to make a fresh start somewhere close, but not too close to my ex-husband and his wife in Trussville (joint child custody); somewhere that I could afford to go back to school, and most importantly had an excellent school system for my children; I began to research the surrounding areas. I was surprised when Cullman came out at the top of my checklist and a little disappointed. Let’s face it, Cullman does not have the best reputation in the state in a few areas, one of those being cultural diversity. I was afraid that by putting my kindergartener into school here, she would not have the opportunity to experience the things I did having grown up in a culturally diverse university town. I am happy to say that has not been a problem. Not only was Cullman not as culturally unaware as I had anticipated, but we had many opportunities because of my occupations and friendships to host people from many different parts of the world in our home. But I am getting ahead of myself. I want to first explain my evolution into a Cullmanite.

When I first got here in 2002, I guess you could say I dove right in. I had been, at that point working from home editing and transcribing medical and legal reports, when I was approached by a friend who worked for a local pest control company about a job in their office. It was during the time that I worked there that I learned to do termite inspections and sales, thus meeting and working with builders, realtors and attorneys from all over town. This also led to working with the Cullman County Homebuilders Association and ultimately becoming their Membership Chair, which afforded me even more connection to the community. Also during this time I spent a couple of years as a sponsor of the Cullman Cyclones football cheerleaders and got to know all of the parents involved with that at the time. Cullman was quickly becoming home. My youngest daughter by this time was at West Elementary and loved it. In fact, I credit Dr. Bouldin, who was the principal there for her entire time at West (and now her high school principal) as one of the reasons we chose to stay in Cullman. He is a great educator and leader of his staff. My daughter was not only getting a great public school education, but had a wonderful male role model around, which was important to me while raising her by myself. In any case, Cullman was becoming our home, but I realized that I was losing sight of my original reason for moving here; to go to college.

So, I went back to editing medical reports at home and began attending Wallace State. In the past, I should mention here, I had over many years worked with English as a Second Language professionals, editing, translating dictation and teaching improvement of English language skills. At Wallace State I was able to get back into this side business that I really enjoyed. There was a student from Cote d’Ivoire there at that time, who, although his English was good, French, was still his first language. French is my second language, so it was just natural after we had a speech class together that I begin to translate notes and papers that he would write in French, and while attending school I began once again to do independent contract work in this field, and later giving educational lectures for both native English speakers who worked with ESL professionals (such as physicians) and wished to better understand their accents, as well as for ESL professionals who wanted to improve their presentation and comprehension of the English language. So, fast forward, I finished my degree in Diagnostic Medical Sonography at Wallace State and decided to go right back the next semester and pursue degrees in Public Safety and Health Administration at Athens State University. During this time, I continued doing independent legal and medical documentation work under my own company 3D Medical and Legal Data Compilation . This is why now, I say that the world has come to us. Since 2006, we have hosted, here, in our home in Cullman, friends from the Ivory Coast, India, Columbia, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, France and Tunisia. Some for extended stays. I have tutored students in English through Skype in Tunisia and even went to stay in their home on the other side of the world in May of last year, swam in the Mediterranean and hiked the Sahara. I obviously don’t worry about my kids not being exposed to cultural diversity in Cullman. We opened our doors and the world came to us.

It was my youngest daughter who was most adamant about us staying in Cullman, but I always had kept the thought in the back of my mind that when I finished my degree at Athens, we would move somewhere else, since Cullman was supposed to be just a “stop-over” on our journey, so to speak, but just as something bigger than myself brought me to Cullman, it also kept me here. My son  has a son now, who will be 2 in May, and now is fully invested in staying in Cullman to raise him. So with it being two against one, I made the decision to homestead here and bought the house I had been renting for 7 years. I signed the paperwork on Thursday, April 21, 2011, and less than one week later huddled in the hallway of that same house with my youngest daughter while an F4 tornado ripped off the siding and blew in the windows, yet spared our lives, as it completely claimed the homes around us. I have honestly never been afraid of anything, but that day, I was shown the true power of the weather and how powerless we are to stand against it. The only thing I could do was ask God to send an angel to stand over us, and He did.

It was in those next few weeks and this past year that Cullman has really become my hometown. It was the camping out together after the tornado and the subsequent rebuilding together that has grounded me to my community. The other change was that because of the 9 days I went without power and internet, I ended up losing the accounts that I had because they were with hospitals, and the work had to be done. So, I spent June and part of July simply rebuilding. I learned to plaster and paint and actually tore up my carpet and learned to lay laminate flooring from the internet. I bought more insurance. Finally, though, I went back out to work, taking a job with a local multispecialty physician management group. I have to say it turned into a great opportunity and wonderful fit for me. I love the work I do there and the people with whom I work. I have resurrected my medical and legal data compilation business and still work with ESL professionals, which I hope to never give up. I am also developing my educational lecture series. In addition to all of this I am joyfully raising a teenager and spending time with my grandson. Everything else is secondary to them. I have two adult children finding their way in the world and I hope I am being a good example.

My plan is to continue this blog with the high jinx I experience while trying to live an extraordinary life as big as the planet in a small town in Alabama! Stay tuned!

Remembering to be thankful.

April 27th of this year is a day we try not to think about too much, but this week I have, because it is the day mine, my daughter's and the lives of my neighbors were spared. It's still very hard to go into to detail, but the summary is that a tornado hit us. A monster. I was listening to the TV and so many had missed us, that I foolishly believed this one would too. As James Spann, the newscaster from Birmingham began to yell from the TV that a multi-vortex tornado was heading for the City of Cullman, I stood in awe watching the image on the TV, trying to figure out where it was from the clear image on the screen from a local tower cam. The weatherman thought it was north of my location, by sighting that it was passing near a local flea market. I was looking out my North window for it as he suddenly and excitedly changed the location: It was heading straight for us. Not only my town, but my house. I spun around to my living room window in just enough time to see the last of my neighbors (who thought we had already gone) speed up the street in their truck, and see the monster heading straight for us. In that minute I realized that I would not have enough time to get my already terrified daughter out of the hallway and into the truck before it hit, so I went to the hallway with her, covered her with my body and told her it was here. It was terrifying to say the least to hear the world coming apart around us and not knowing if any minute the entire house would be torn from around us. Then it was gone. We went outside and everything had changed. Our neighbors were all returning and my daughter ran toward her friend and neighbor who she had grown up with for the past 7 years, and suddenly it registered: Their house was gone. Not just parts of it like the rest of us, but all of it. Not a stick of the home was left on the property. The full impact hit me. I was sorry for their loss, but so glad they decided to leave, but then also I realized that had it moved just a few meters, my daughter and I would be gone too.

Okay, that's about all I can take in telling right now. It was hard, and is still hard to remember. What did happen though, was in the week that followed, our neighbors, whom we had always loved, became our family. Yesterday evening I sat with my neighbor, Gloria in the living room of her new house, discussing the dinner that we would make to eat in her new dining room tomorrow. It made me smile when she happily said, "Now I have a dining room and space for everyone." She had lost every material possession, but has her family, and extended family. This year has taught us not to to be humble and not to complain as much. We lived without homes and power in destruction, but learned how much we all meant to each other. We are strong and most of all, THANKFUL!!