Edge of Glory?

I love fall. I love sweaters and coats, boots and tights. I love turning and falling leaves and cooling temperatures. I love those amazing blue skies of autumn. I love football.

A couple of years ago appropriately in the fall, Size Four Banker Sister and I visited the ESPN Zone in New York. Yes, while many visitors to the great shopping mecca that is New York find their way to Fifth Avenue or Lexington, we instead were drawn to the multiple screens of the best place in Times Square to watch, as Kenny Chesney would espouse, the 'boys of fall'. Of course, we purchased the obligatory tee shirts. And of course, we chose the same tee, screen printed on the back with something like, "Yes, I'm a woman.... Yes, I know the game.... Yes, I watch ESPN." Great tee, isn't it....or at least it was until Size Four's son accidentally wore it to school without reading the back. That may be subject for another blog and definitely subject for some teenage harassment to this very day. Luckily, my nephew is totally comfortable in his own skin; otherwise we could be dealing with scarring that might have lasted a lifetime.

This year's football season is off to a most exciting start as three teams of great local interest seem poised..... in the immortal words of Gaga (one thing about this blog, you never know where I might pluck a quote)..... "on the edge of glory and hanging on a moment of truth." It's interesting that two of the three are doing it with the exuberance and excitement of youth.....freshman and sophomores or first and second year players who have shown up with swagger to beat out more senior teammates for shots at greatness. The third team is doing it with a tested group of seasoned and savvy players led by a 5th year quarterback. This latter team clearly has all the pieces with talent rarely if ever assembled on one team in this area. But will it all come together?

All three of these teams may make it if not to glory then definitely to a special place. Or all three may fail. One, two, or all three could achieve a greatness that has been more than a little elusive for all in recent years. And for each, the definition of a great year, of glory as it were, may be a little different. Clemson fans hope to compete for a conference championship. Gamecocks may still hope to be in the hunt for a national title. The Panthers' goal is probably to make the play-offs. One thing is for sure.....Tigers, Gamecocks, and Panthers everywhere are more than a little excited. And that is most definitely a good thing for all three organizations, for their rabid fans, and for football in general.... all the way down to the tiny mite leagues of the Carolinas.

I heard a story on ESPN last Saturday of an Oklahoma State (I think) player who befriended a nine year old leukemia patient. Sporting a pink bracelet in her honor on game day and as part of his game uniform, he pays tribute to his young and seriously afflicted friend both in his play and with his ever important hospital visits. I think one of the things I like most about football is the inevitable story of character, of class, of going above and beyond that we fans learn about a player. And in most years, we hear many more than one such story.

As these gridiron athletes amaze us with their talent, size and strenth, it is worth noting that many, many of them set an example far more important than what they do on the field. More special than having the skill to catch, to throw, to run, to kick, many of these elite athletes get it. They care. They care about the world around them. They care about their schools and organizations. They care about those who cannot run, throw, play as they do.

As for this fall and this sports season, I'm hoping for fun, fantastic football finishes, the perfect tee shirt, and a great pair of tall boots!

Pettit Fours

From time to time I may cop out on my blog. Instead of telling a story or developing an idea, I'll drop a quick bite of the random wackiness of my world.... with sincerest apologies to the scrumptious petit four, a Pettit Four, if you will.

Pettit One: Adrian called me at work this afternoon. He was preparing dinner....nice, right? He said he had forgotten cucumbers and really, really , did I say really wanted some cucumbers. Would I go by the grocery store (after twenty years, he knows how I hate grocery stores) for cucumbers? Thinking it rather strange that I had never in all these years of marriage realized he had such a compulsion for cucumbers and totally failing to understand their absolute necessity in his dinner plans, I reluctantly agreed. At that point, he sheepishly added, "Oh by the way, could you pick me up a 'suitcase' of beer? It's on sale at Bilo." Ahhhh.....as they say, the rest of the story.

Pettit Two: Kate was this week asked to write a memoir for AP ELA. She chose to write a "meowmoir", an ode to her beloved cat Landen. Should I be worried about this child? Pretty good writing, I must say, but is her entire self portrait defined by a feline?

Pettit Three: As Kate and I recently drove through our neighborhood, quite suddenly a doe and three fawns ran across Rugby Road in front of us. I commented to Kate that I wasn't sure I had ever seen a doe with three young, to which my true daughter of a blended family readily responded, "Mommy, she has a step deer!"

Pettit Four: Drew won $250,000 the other night....well almost. He and I eagerly watched the "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire," contestant climb through the questions to the $250,000 level. The quarter million question was, "What Native American's Name Roughly Translated Means 'Playful One?'" Drew nearly fell off the couch with excitement, jumping and stuttering as he yelled, "Pocahontas, Pocahontas!" Of course, neither the contestant nor I had the foggiest idea, but my "Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader" 5th grader knew immediately! Pocahontas, it was. Thank you, Mrs. W! If we could only cash in!

Pulling the Trigger

I am going to learn to "pull the trigger." No, I am not taking shooting lessons....there's a scary thought. I am going to do some of those things I say I am going to do but just never seem to get done. Coming to this resolution is at least partly a result of losing my mother suddenly and without warning. I will always regret things I did not say or do while she was here. Oddly, it's that very tendency to procrastinate, to put off doing both the big and little things, that I saw in my mother and my relationship with my mother and frequently see in myself.

For purposes of this blog, I am thinking more about those fun things...at least they should be fun.... the sometimes material things that we all postpone for every possible reason. We don't have time. We don't have the money. We don't know if it's the right thing. We worry about the economy. We just can't decide to "pull the trigger."

As a realtor, I see this kind of thinking all the time. And, although as an analyzer myself I understand it, I do worry that buyers who overanalyze today's market may miss out on one of the best home buying opportunities in years. Just pull the trigger, right?

Recently my sisters and I helped my dad remodel the beachfront condo he shared with my mom for nearly forty years. In all that time, the only upgrading they did was when hurricane water damage forced a few minor improvements. I commented to my sister that it made me sad to think that our mother never saw the "new condo" and never had a chance to enjoy it. To that my sis commented, "Mother talked about it all the time. She just would never pull the trigger." That is so....well so....Dee.

I talk with my husband all the time about making memories with our children. Those camping trips we continue to postpone, the Disney discussions, the promises to go here or there or do this or that are so well-intentioned but just never seem to happen. One day soon we will be begging the children to go somewhere with us, and they will simply be too busy or have better things to do. It's the circle of life, I suppose.

Speaking of children, there is no doubt, no room for discussion, no discourse whatsoever....my Baby Girl Kate is a trigger puller. Her "Ready, Fire, Aim" attitude drives her mother crazy at times. But it is probably going to take her places I can only imagine. My tendency to get hung up in analysis paralysis is most assuredly a character trait I inherited from my mom and just as certainly, thankfully, one my daughter missed.

Whether buying jeans or furnishing a house, I just have trouble making up my mind. There are so many choices out there. Why is it so easy for the "Kates" of the world to make a choice while others of us wrangle with the details of a seemingly endless game of pros and cons. I never could have been a guest on "Let's Make a Deal." Three weeks after stepping up to the mike with Monty Hall (or whoever this new guy of the new version is) I would still be trying to rationalize the decision to choose door number one or door number two.

We have postponed for years doing some needed things in our home. Again, I am proving to be my mother's daughter. I either don't have the money or time or can't decide what I want to do....always some excuse, some reason for delay. But, this fall, I am stepping out of the seeming comfort of indecision. I may not have the money or the time, but By George, I will have a master bath! Look out world......I'm pulling the trigger!

Sheets, Snoring, Sleepwalking, and Things That Go Bump in the Night

Labor Day week-end at the river left me lazy, listless, and longing for a nap. It wasn't supposed to be that way, but there were more than a few adjustment problems as we experienced our very own version of 'Sleepless in South Carolina.' One culprit....high thread count sheets. Yes, that's what I said....high thread count sheets, a recent gift and much more expensive than those to which I am accustomed, proved so slick that I literally slid off the bed at least twice. Where were my scratchy 250's when I most needed them?

Drew chose the week-end to contribute to this increasingly sleepy scenario by starring in his version of the infamous Blakeney sleep walks. Exhausted after a day of play, he had fallen asleep on the couch. I woke him up to move to his room upstairs. In only slightly slurred syllables, Drew told me he had something he had to do first. Thinking perhaps he was being discreet about a needed trip to the bathroom....I should have known any explanation involving discretion on the part of my son was unlikely....I watched him walk instead to the kitchen counter, pick up the phone, begin furiously dialing, then just as suddenly put the phone down and walk away. The obligatory fast and furious phone beeps ensued. I stepped over, replaced the phone, turned, and asked my befuddled son who he might be calling at this late hour. He looked at me with the unmistakable confused and dazed look of a sleep walker who had no idea why he was doing what he was doing or where he was or even for a moment who I was. I needed a camcorder because, of course, the next morning Drew was sure my story was pure fiction. I didn't tell him that I easily recognized sleepwalking, having early and frequently been exposed to his aunt on occasion actually leaving our house in various and sundry states of sleepwalking. More than once, our dad found her halfway up Hickory (Street, that is), walking who knows where, but definitely sound asleep. To this day, at least one other of the grandchildren's generation and now apparently Drew, carry on the great sleepwalking legacy of the Blakeney (or could it be Griggs) family.

Also at issue on our river rat week-end....that is if 800 thread count sheets and river rats aren't mutually exclusive.... was a soundly snoring member of the family, who shall at least for now remain nameless, further complicating my attempts to catch up on the definite lack of sleep brought on by the first weeks of school. I was 'dee-cidedly" delighted....note the sarcasm....that someone was getting some sleep. Only my mildest muttering could have been heard as I descended the steps to replace my recently relocated son on the den couch. At least there I found a little traction and a tiny window of opportunity for sleep.

Don't you love the restful relaxation of holiday week-ends? Does anyone else need a nap?