White socks tie dyed and made into monkeys!
My momma told me one time that when people ask you how you are doing they really don't want to know how you are doing. I tend to agree with her. I usually say "FABULOUS!" when anyone asks.
Not that anyone is asking but......
Summer is here and my motivation and life is being sucked out of me. Dare I be dramatic? I'm listless and bored. I have no drive or ambition. But, enough about me.
"I'm a displaced southern "Timba Heiress"presently creating in the dry, arid, moistureless, outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona. I find inspiration in family, friends, quilts, antiques, fabric, children, my dog, and nature. I am a fiber, doll, and collage artist but must also have a paying job. 50% of all money earned from sell of art is squandered by my children, 25% goes to art supplies and the remaining 25% is deposited in a jar marked plastic surgery. This money will pay for a much needed face lift, boob lift, and tummy tuck."
I was sorting through some piles of stuff and found the above bio I had written - A while back I taught a sock monkey class and was asked for an artist resume. That was not what I turned in. I wrote one more polished and professional. Recently I have had to update my resume since I received my Arizona Teaching Certification for kindergarten through eighth grade. I am 53 years old so it could have been quite lengthy but I was told to only highlight the last ten years. I wrote a cover letter too. I used many colorful, energetic, high powered adjectives to describe myself. I found it exhausting later to read how phenomenal I am. Reading it made it hard for me to believe that there ever was a time when I had low self esteem.
The Scar Book
Speaking of self esteem, I drove to Birmingham with Daddy and Momma back in March. Momma had an appointment to visit the heart surgeon at St. Vincents hospital. Sista Lucy drove from Nashville and met us there. Before our appointment we had time for a leisurely lunch. We found an Arby's right away but that is not my idea of leisurely. Luckily a few minutes later we came across a Fish House. It was decorated so cute and had great atmosphere. Even the restrooms were quaint.
Momma ordered grilled fish, Daddy had gumbo, I ordered fried scallops and oysters and Lucy had fried oysters. I am telling you this because I bit into one of the scallops and out spurted fishy juice all down the front of my cute outfit. When I got in the elevator at the doctor's office next to the hospital a nurse joined me and made the comment that they must be having fish in the cafeteria today. She startled me when she said that. I immediately asked her , "Do I smell like fish?" She was taken a back by my question and replied, "No, I smell fish from the cafeteria." I meant to go online after I got home and find out if they were serving fish that day or if she smelled me. But I am getting off track.
Momma signed in for her appointment and right by the sign in sheet was a photo album. I picked it up and took a seat next to Daddy. I started flipping through it and much to my surprise it was a picture album of scars. I was startled and got the giggles because I thought I was going to be viewing company picnic or holiday party photos. The pictures were mesmerizing! I stopped randomly flipping and viewed the first photo in the book. I couldn't believe what I was seeing but I had to see them all! The more I saw the more I giggled. Hysterical, uncontrollable giggles. Tears were flowing from my eyes. People were starting to stare. Sista Lucy said, "Sista whatcha lookin at?" I said, "I'd tell you but you wouldn't believe me." She came over to sit by me and got her eyes full too. Then she started to giggle. We called over to Momma to come have a look. She said no. She did not want to see any scars. I said - It's not just scars! Each of the pictures were taken of men or women naked from the neck to the waist and these people were old. In fact I swear a few of those pictures resembled me but I don't have a scar. Some of the people in the photos were more modest than others and had used an arm to try to cover their bosoms. Others just let it all hang out. Talk about high self esteem!
Daddy took the book from us and flipped through it. Isn't this sweet! He had paused on a picture of a man and a woman with matching scars. They were sitting on a bench and holding hands in the photo. The woman had 82 written on her with marker and the man had 84. We suspected by the looks of things that this was their age. We were all giggling now and getting a little loud and rowdy. All but Momma. She refused to participate in our fun.
I don't often give my Momma advice but that day I thought it would be wise. I said Momma don't sign anything until you read it. You may be giving them permission to take your photo! Then I got to thinking. What would possess someone to pose for a picture like that. There had to have been something in it for them. I said - Momma, they may offer a discount on your surgery if you pose for a scar photo later. Are you tempted? Momma said she didn't need a discount, she'd pay full price for her surgery. I asked her if she would do it for 20% off? How about 30%? I doubted that the surgeon would go much higher than that.
There were three other ladies obviously together in the waiting room while all this was going on. One of them asked to see the book. I walked it over to her and she and her friends started pouring over it like grade schoolers with a National Geographic Jungle Native edition. We watched them closely to catch their reaction to the photos. They gasped, then giggled. The lady who was the patient called out for all to hear, "I'm paying full price too!"
Momma, Daddy, and Lucy went back to that doctors office in Birmingham after Momma's surgery. They said the book had been removed from the waiting room.