In Black and White

What a great birthday week! I do love it when circumstances dictate that birthdays become birth weeks. Such was the case this year. My week started with two of my favorite people, my sisters, and a quick birthday weekend getaway. The times we spend together always bring laughter, sisterly sarcasm, shopping, and food. This trip was no exception.

Saturday afternoon following a short shopping excursion and a football game on tv (you'll remember that we three are football fanatics), one sister, who shall for her protection remain nameless, asked if I would like to take a nap with her. Now, I had to tell her that I have had lots of birthday offers over the years, some good and some bad, but none quite so....well so..... weird as hers. I declined. Off she went to catch her power nap alone.

Not to overlook my other sister's contribution to the week-end, this one was smartly dispatched to the ABC store while other sister and I grocery shopped. The ABC mission......margarita fixings. This sis triumphantly returned. Great mixer....check, limes.....check, tequila...how do you forget the tequila? Yes, you read correctly....one sister is offering me a birthday afternoon nap while the other is offering up margaritas of a virgin variety. What party animals we are!

All was well, however, when time for presents arrived and my sisters had, as they so often do, done the impossible and tracked down a Tory bag I've wanted for two years but only just mentioned in the last few days. I do love my sisters!

I am reading Very Valentine by Adriana Trigiani. (Note to readers: As you may have already surmised, my birthday week-end left me plenty of time for reading.) The opening sentences of the book are...."I'm not the pretty sister. I'm not the smart sister either. I'm the funny one." As the years of my life and those of my sisters have passed, I think the three of us have at one time or another each been the pretty one or the smart one or the funny one. I also think all three of us have been the ugly duckling, or the foolish one or the anything but funny one. But the thing is, no matter who each of us is individually, together we are and always have been sisters, bound as such by our dna but so much more importantly by our love and loyalty. So, though on this week-end I might have called them the sleepy one and the virgin one (oops, may need to rename that one), they are my precious sisters and among my richest blessings.

My actual birthday arrived and began with a rousing happy birthday performance from The Trio Pettit, definitely not to be confused with The Band Perry. With flowers and song and a 5:50 am curtain call, my day was off and running to the point that the previous week-end's offer of a nap with my sister was sounding better and better. Work commitments and a football game for my son's team meant no birthday dinner this year. Adrian graciously offered to take me for a sumptious Ruth's Chris evening. He thought we could probably go week-end after next. Really????

I was dazzled and humbled by an unending list of facebook well-wishers. I received many wonderful cards. I loved a great lunch/party with my work friends who truly are some of my best friends. However, the moment of my birthday....this birthday's moment in time , as it were, came when I realized Kate had once again hijacked my facebook account, something we have discussed on numerous occasions, but this time to post the following:

My Mother is a special gift,
A special gift that God gave to me.
I'd be lost and lonely without her,
If God took her away you see.
I love her so very much,
... That I couldn't bear to live without her healing touch.
Thank-you God for giving me such a loving Mother,
For I wouldn't want to be a part of any other.

Happy birthday mommy bug I love you so much!!!!!!!!

And there it was in black and white. Suddenly the margaritas minus tequila or the fact that my sexiest offer of the week came from my sister or the birthday dinner two weeks late didn't matter. This was a great birthday!

Cheeeese

Say "cheese." Immediately everyone knows what's happening. Dee has broken out her trusty and I'll admit occasionally bothersome camera. Over the years, I have taken some pretty amazing pictures.....and okay....some duds. But, the best part of photography for me is the memory. I glance at a photo and am instantly transported back in time to that moment when it was taken. Making memories....pretty special, I think. Preserving memories, reminding us of times almost forgotten.....even more special.

Anyone who knows me even slightly knows that I am rarely if ever without my camera. Even for someone who loves the written word as I do, there is just something about a photo. I am apt to pop off that lens cover most anywhere if I see a picture happening and shout the obligatory, "Cheeeeese!".

A professional will admonish that a photographer should never, never say, "Say cheese!" when taking a picture." I beg to differ. And since I am not a professional photographer, in differing I am clearly well within my rights. In the youngest of children, "Say Cheese" or the shortened version "Cheeeeese" or even the new wave "Cheeseburgers" rarely if ever fails to elicit a smile. Kid subjects stop what they are doing, pose, and smile. Candids, maybe not. Precious, perfect, happy smiles worth saving .....almost always.

Even for adults, the slightly silly but effective 'say cheese' wins a smile almost if not every time. Perhaps the famous photo phrase brings back memories of childhoods long since gone. Indeed, it seems almost a universal indicator, an expression familiar enough that it is understood the world over. At Atlantis recently, an Asian woman of apparently very limited understanding of the English language offered in her gestures to take a picture of my family so that the four of us could appear together in one..... indeed a rare occurrence. Her smiling instruction as she snapped the picture.....you guessed it....."Cheeeeeese." I never knew the word has Asian roots....

I wonder why cheese. Seriously, why not bologna or tacos, fries or steak beans or greens. I'll have to check that out. Meanwhile, I'll continue 'bugging' family, friends, and coworkers as my shameless shutterbug gene demands. I'll continue to take pictures I love that remind me of favorite people and places and memories and blogging the stories my photos help tell.

Hmmmm.....almost forgot I ever had curly hair!

Never mind that it was nearly 80 degrees today. It's October, the end of October. It matters not what the thermometer says. I for one am looking to the calendar. It is definitely time, so tonight we built a fire. Not the gas log kind. We built a real old fashioned wood fire with all the smells and dirt and heat and soot. I love a warm fire with its dancing lights, wafting flames, blues and yellows, it's mellow magic. I love a fire.

I love a good book or a good tv show, a great ballgame or a good movie with a fire crackling in the background. I love to see my children sitting on the hearth, soaking up the scents and sensation of the fire. I love to see the reflection of the flames and the fascination in their eyes. I understand it, for after all these years, the fire still holds a fascination for me.

We have gas logs in our living room, but in the den, in the heart of our house, are the hearth and the heat and the magic of a "real" fireplace.

I see such emotion in fires....the raging and racing flames.....the dwinding of the soon to be extinguished fire, the sleepy seductive shimmery of the last hot logs. If it sounds like romance, in a way, I suppose it is.

I have blogged previously that fall is my favorite time of year. Perhaps the return of the fire in the fireplace is another reason why.

Things Every Young Gentleman Should Know

Several years ago, my stepson Joseph gave Drew a book entitled 50 Things Every Young Gentleman Should Know. It extolled the importance of such virtues as, "A gentleman does not stop making the best effort halfway through a competition, even if he thinks it is obvious he is going to lose." "A gentleman knows his dad's favorite cologne and his mom's favorite authors." "A gentleman takes off his cap during the National Anthem, during the Pledge of Allegiance, or whenever the American Flag is passing by." And of course, the crucial and all important, "A gentleman flushes every time he uses the toilet."

Chapter 35 is devoted to the imperative skill....how to use chopsticks. According to the book, "If a gentleman feels uneasy about trying to use chopsticks, he asks for a knife and fork instead. He would rather eat his meal without dropping his food than try to use equipment he hasn't mastered yet." Last week-end we took Drew and a few of his friends to Nakato Japanese Steakhouse. As I looked around our table at these eleven and twelve year old boys sipping their soup and successfully, yes successfully, maneuvering their chopsticks, I was amazed at how quickly they are growing up and becoming young gentlemen. There was great conversation and laughter. There were nice manners and smiles. They asked great questions about the customs and the traditions of Japanese dining. I heard lots of please and thank you as they ordered and reordered drinks and dinner. They were absolutely charming. For this, albeit brief, moment in time, they seemed like savvy..... if slightly short.... college students instead of the primary schoolers they are. I truly saw my future....their futures.

Drew was recently asked to construct a biocube for his Eagles class. I was interested to see at age 11 how he would describe himself and what his 3-D autobiography would look like.

The opening sentence of his background was, "I like to play football." His favorite quotation as indicated was, "Protect this House." As his greatest obstacle, and I had to laugh at this one, he listed, "Huge football players." (I believe an.......umm..... 'biopattern' may be emerging.) For personality traits, Drew said, "I am athletic. I am fast. I am entergetic." And yes, he wrote 'entergetic.' I suppose that's an energy that comes from an even deeper place within. But I knew what he meant. And for his significance, Drew wrote, "Being well known as an adult."

So what do I gather about my young son from his biocube....at this particular point in his life, in the days surrounding his eleventh birthday? Much of how he sees himself is defined through sports, particularly football. I love that his biggest obstacle is huge football players. If only that would remain so.

I think my child wants to be someone special; someone well-known. I think he today thinks that may be in sports. I don't know what Drew will do. I, like he, believe he will be successful and special. This Opie Taylor look alike, this lean, lanky boy, this curious, questioning, quirky kid really amazes me with his warmth, wisdom and wit. He still cries but laughs so much more often. And he so often makes me laugh.

Last week, I observed him with his friends in a somewhat grown up Asian setting. I saw yesterday's little boys rising to the occasion. I found myself sighing with pride at who my son is and looking expectantly forward to who he may become.....to the young gentlemen they all may become.

Back to our evening out in Charlotte, as we sat in an after dinner movie and I proudly thought back over our very successful dinner, I had to wonder.....what are those strange and rather obnoxious sounds coming from our theater row? Oh well, perhaps these boys are still a work in progress. Meanwhile, I'll check to see if there is an appropo chapter in the book!

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!