Spring Buds

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I think I always post a photo like this somewhere on my social media every year. I can’t help it. I’m always so frakkin’ ready to see winter go. I can’t imagine how much anticipation is up north.

I tried to wait until we had some actual sun, but since that won’t happen for three more days, I got impatient and posted. 

Facebook Can Kiss My Ass

2015
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No, I’m not rage-quitting Facebook, but I am boycotting the whole “It’s been a great year! Thanks for being a part of it.” thing that keeps popping up on my feed. All apologies to anyone who has had a good year and created their own and shared it, but I just don’t care to relive my 2014.

Don’t get me wrong; I had some good moments.

But there was that horrible morning in July when we had to say good-bye to our sweet Domino, and I really didn’t get much time to grieve for her because Dad went into the hospital a couple of weeks later and passed away a few days after that.

On the one hand, I feel comforted by many thoughts. I imagine him in Heaven, in his cancer-free body, having tomato sandwiches with MaMa Grant. I am grateful to know that he never had to find out the cancer was back in his bone marrow, and I am thankful that he suffers no more. However, the pain from his absence makes even the best days bittersweet. There’s always this unpleasant aftertaste of what can’t be shared with him, and I don’t know if that will ever go away.

Grief sneaks up when you least expect it. It’s on a minivan on the road in front of you that’s decorated with “Happy birthday, Dad!” It’s the movie you didn’t explore enough to know about the lead character’s father having cancer and dying at the end. It’s the photo revealed in a stack of papers that you had forgotten existed.

Still, the Earth turns and revolves around the sun, and even if we wanted to stop moving, we couldn’t.

However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The faultfinder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms house as brightly as from a rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its doors as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace.

— Henry David Thoreau

However, Thoreau doesn’t say anything about Facebook. Screw Zuckerberg and his attempts to pick out what the highlights were to my 2014. I pick my own AND set them to music — in this case, Emerson Hart’s “Green Hills of California.”

Here’s my 2014. It was… a year.

Because I Forgot to Get a Card

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Nanny-2014

To the woman who packs a week early for a two-night Thanksgiving stay…

To the woman who is a breast cancer survivor…

To the woman who just cannot get enough Gaither videos or The Waltons episodes…

To the woman who found a way to carry on after her husband’s passing more than 27 years ago…

To the woman who has a little bit of ice cream for breakfast on Saturday mornings…

To one of the strongest, funniest, classiest women I know…

I say, “Happy 87th birthday, Nanny!”

My Blog’s New Tagline

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Tonight’s dinner conversation…

(Upon hearing that I lost out on a job a couple of years ago because they Googled me and found this blog)
Jill:  WHAT?! It’s not like you bitch about work on your blog! You’re Sappy Chick! You’re all kittens and puppies and shit!

Saturdays with Nanny

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Nanny: The reunion is the second Sunday in October.
Mom: So it’s next Sunday.
Nanny: No it’s the second Sunday.
Mom: But tomorrow is the first Sunday so next Sunday is the reunion.
Nanny: Well, it’s not Sunday yet. Tomorrow is the next Sunday.