My DNA

Where I am From

I am from sweet tea and Little Debbie cakes, from biscuits from scratch and from real butter. I am from fried chicken and Uncle Ben’s, from three square meals, with a yellow and a green vegetable, a starch, a meat, and maybe if I was lucky, a big bowl of ice cream. I am from Sunday dinners with the missionaries from Jordan, Kenya, Peru, Japan.
I am from a blue and white Delft kitchen, from wide porches and colonial pillars, stone fireplaces and murals of the Matterhorn. I am from rabbit ears and rotary phones. I am from cedar split rail fences and bamboo hiding spots. I am from a drafty cedar closet lined with piles of old National Geographics. I am from wrought iron balconies and shag carpet. I am from cool basement and attic fan, from the hook and eye on my mom and dad’s door, and from wobbly crystal doorknobs. I am from the porch swing that lived inside, for courting. Because of course, when the squeak, squeak, squeak stopped, one needed to take note.
I am from towering magnolias, fragrant blossoms with matchstick centers and red seeded pods when the blossoms faded. I am from boxwoods so large I could hide in them every afternoon and play school, and house, and lead the choir. I am from weeping willows I could climb when I was sad. I am from sand dollars and shark’s teeth, palmettos and scrub pines. I am from creeks and boulders, birthed from the ancient Appalachians. I am from Pop’s roses, and Grandma’s jonquils, and the occasional stolen hydrangea from Mrs. Ballentine’s yard.
I am from the Cobb reunion, and I am from early to bed and afternoon naps. I am from judgment and generosity. I am from Papa Cobb, patriarch of my mother’s line and I am from Lib and Katy and Fran and Ruth and Sue, steel magnolias all of them. I am from bad grammar and good hearts. I am from Pop, who took me fishing and drove 30 miles back to Greenwood once, when I left my Barrel of Monkeys at the restaurant. I am from Grandma’s fried pies and paperdolls, and I am from rockers on her porch. I am from alcohol, and pedophilia, and drugs and mental illness; and I am from bedside prayers, and faithfulness and love that withstood.
I am from good humor and laughter. I am from not saying what you truly feel. From being a good girl and not breaking their hearts, like Bob did.
I am from Wesley and Calvin. From altar rail and font. From twice on Sunday and once on Wednesday night. I am from red church doors, the Trinity hymnal and offering envelopes. From soloists and organists and people who had it together, no matter what.
I am from Greenville, from the foothills. From grits and gravy, and Grandma’s lemon pound cake. I am from the summer scent of chlorine. I am from the comforting aroma of leaf mold quietly decaying under a canopy of oaks and hickories.
I am from black-leafed leather albums holding black and white squares of dogs and smiling children and Easter hats. I am from carousel upon carousel of aging colored slides, journaling trips to Egypt and Greece and France, to Kennebunkport and Myrtle Beach and Abbeville.
This is where I am from.

I'm not sure I believe this about myself....

...but I'm glad middle aged women like me, since I am one!

You Are Elmo

Sweet and innocent, you expect everyone to adore you. And they usually do! You are usually feeling: Talkative. You've got tons of stories to tell. And when you aren't talking, you're laughing. You are famous for: Being popular, though no one knows why. Middle aged women especially like you. How you life your life: With an open heart. "Elmo loves you!"

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

Five weird things about me you might not know

I got tagged by Julie and so here goes (and Julie, I don't know how to make your name a link):

1. I'm not allergic to Poison Ivy
2. I'm so normal this is hard... The most romantic place I've ever been, I went to with my children. I simply MUST take my dh back to Santorini, in Greece!
3. I pick out perfect dogs. People call me to help them select a dog. I have a knack for finding good breeds, and good, happy, well adjusted pets.
4. I rip all the advertising cards out of magazines before I'll touch the magazine. Those things are my pet peeves.
5. I like to burp really loud.

Oh, I feel so much better about myself now

Your IQ Is 135

Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Exceptional Your General Knowledge is Genius

A Quick and Dirty IQ Test

Of course, Bill would agree with the logical thinking deficit. But I'd be killer on Jeopardy.

Can we tell that I have a million things to do today? And what am I doing but taking online personality tests....I definitely have problems with logic. The movers will arrive in 5 hours...the house isn't packed. Oh there are boxes here and there, but nothing like READY. I haven't even been in the attic yet. It's so overwhelming that I think I'll just surf the internet a little more. Ack.

Not quite moving

We've been living out of boxes for weeks. Our moving date has now been delayed until next Friday, which actually gives us time to get stuff done to the house before we move in to it. We've closed on it, so it just remains to get it in move-in condition. Carpet cleaners, floor refinishers, painter, electrician, invisible fencers, landscapers, deck builder...I think that's it. Anyway, quite a chore, but it will be nice to finally unpack there.

I went to Mass on Saturday night last night, so Sunday morning will be free for me. We've rarely done the Saturday option, but today Bill is training this morning, biking and running for a few hours with his teammates. I think I'll just do ordinary things: paperwork, grocery shopping, laundry. It is amazing how those ordinary things fall by the wayside when the house is overturned. I think of the hurricane victims, and imagine how grateful they'd be to just be able to do normal things. The messages I get in the media are that adrenaline is better, that new adventures are the best adventures. But when life gets topsy turvy, I'm reminded how blessed one is to live an ordinary life. Right now, commonplace sounds good.

That point reminds me of a questionnaire I was given last week. I'm trying to lose weight, and so I went to L A Weight Loss. One of the questions was "Do you eat when you're bored?" To which I replied: I'm never bored. I cannot remember feeling bored. The weight counselor looked at me uncomprehendingly. "I mean, I can't answer whether I eat when I'm bored because I'm never bored." She blinked. "Just answer 'No'."

Weight. There's one we could write an essay about. I'm not genetically large. But in college, I gained weight one summer (up to 140) and immediately went on caffeine pills and lost it. After that my weight was pretty constant (120-125 and a size 6) until I had children. Each child added 5 permanent pounds. So in the end of it, my 'normal' weight was 140-145. Livable, I considered it. But about 7-8 years ago, weight started creeping up on me. In one year I think I gained 10 lbs. I tried losing it (down to 140), and managed to do that. That's when I had my hysterectomy/tummy tuck. So I got rid of the childbirth belly, and a few worn-out organs, but did I lose weight? Nooooo. Recovering from a hysterectomy is hard, no matter what anyone says. It was a year before I felt normal again. But in that year, and in the subsequent one or two, I've packed on pounds. Thankfully, I can say I carry it pretty well. When you have atummy tuck, and have fat cells permanently removed, the up side is a flat stomach. But the down side is that if you put on weight, it no longer goes to your tummy but it does go everywhere else you have fat cells...thighs, butt, etc. It isn't a pretty sight. Now I'm up to 170, and can no longer say that I carry AN EXTRA 40 POUNDS gracefully! Who am I kidding? If I could get to 130 I think I'd feel great and look much younger. So I'm reduced to 2 proteins, 3 starches, 4 veggies, 3 fruit, 1 fat, 1 dairy, and 3 condiments per day. For the record, THAT ISN'T MUCH FOOD! I'm cutting portions in half, making lots of conscious food choices, weighing whether I can 'afford' that creamer in my coffee, etc. It's insane. But hopefully, I can get there. That would be nice.

All the What - Ifs

In an effort to take my mind off my misery, my friend Julie tagged me to answer these much-more-enjoyable what-ifs than the ones I've been contemplating lately!

If I could be a scientist…the world would be in sad shape. Like, there would be no advances.
If I could be a farmer… I'd farm out the work.
If I could be a musician…I'd play the cello. That way I could get in a good cry everytime I practiced.
If I could be a doctor… I'd be a damn good one.
If I could be a painter… I'd think I'd gone to heaven. To be able to paint like I want to paint....ah.
If I could be a gardener…I'd love to be able to have fresh flowers in every room. And some yummy fresh food.
If I could be a missionary…I'd hate living on 'support'. I hate fundraising.
If I could be a chef…it would sure come in handy for the family. I'd create tasty, healthy, attractive entrees.
If I could be an architect…I'd meld beautiful design with 'green' technology, and no one could afford me.
If I could be a linguist…I'd go nuts.
If I could be a psychologist…I'd carry the weight of everyone's problems. But I'd be good at it.
If I could be a librarian… I'd be frustrated at all the books I'd want to read, and never have time to.
If I could be an athlete…I'd choose an extreme sport, or a funky unknown sport.
If I could be a lawyer… I'd clean up. But I'd probably lose my soul.
If I could be an inn-keeper… I'd stress out. When will all these people leave me alone?
If I could be a professor…I'd love it.
If I could be a writer…I'd capture a phrase like Forster and I'd plumb the depths like Dosteyevsky.
If I could be a llama-rider…just shoot me and put me out of my misery.
If I could be a bonnie pirate…I'd be rich and promiscuous, but I wouldn't live long.
If I could be an astronaut…I'd hate the math, but I'd love the missions.
If I could be a world famous blogger…I'd be content with that. Gotta have a forum for life.
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world…it would be a magistrate's office. Help the little people.
If I could be married to any current famous political figure…Arnold, of course.