Saturday, May 22, 2010
According to my Dashboard thingee this is my 1,493rd post.
It is also the third anniversary of this blog.
My first anniversary post was here.
My second was here.
And this is my third and if you click back on those links you'll see that the picture above is now my TRADITIONAL ANNIVERSARY PICTURE!
Tradition is important, don't you think?
Three years later and that picture still tickles my funny bone and I love having a reason to reuse it.
And I suppose I could get all nostalgic here and review my year and tell you what all this blog has meant and does mean to me but I'm not in the mood. Nope. I am not.
I think I write that daily anyway.
But here's what I think I will do. I'll give a little autobiography of myself for any of you who haven't been reading very long. Why not? Here goes.
I am a fifty-five (soon to be fifty-six) year old woman who lives in a village named Lloyd in North Florida. I have four children who are grown, one son, three daughters. I have a husband named Mr. Moon who is almost seven feet tall whom I have been married to for twenty-five and a half years and with any luck, I will be married to for another twenty-five and a half years. I have one grandchild, a boy named Owen. I am incredibly lucky in that I get to keep him a few days a week.
I live in a house which is one hundred and fifty one years old. That is old for North Florida. I love my house. It is my dream house. It has four porches. There are oak trees in my yard which are probably hundreds of years old. They are huge. If I had my way, when I die my body would be wrapped up in an old sheet and buried under one of them. Nothing would make me happier.
I love my life. It is my dream life.
I love my children and my grandchild so much that it is almost a sacrilege to discuss it. Same with my husband.
I do not love my four dogs but they are mine and some day they will die.
I have chickens. I love my chickens.
I have friends. I love my friends.
I am slightly agoraphobic. I have a hard time leaving Lloyd. I feel safe and protected and needed here on my tiny piece of land with my garden and my plants and my chickens and my husband. Sometimes, though, I leave to drive to Monticello which is the only real town in the county I live in and I go there to do things at the Opera House which brings me great joy. Sometimes I act in plays. Other times I serve dinners. Whatever. It's all lovely to me. The people at the Opera House whom I play with are some of the best people I have ever met in my life.
I have been having hot flashes for over ten years. I don't think they'll ever go away.
I was sexually abused as a child.
I am a registered nurse who doesn't work who has a neurosis against all things medical.
I wear overalls a lot.
I love to cook and I love to eat.
I love to use vulgar language. The word "fuck" in all of its forms enchants me.
I love Mexico and when Mr. Moon takes me there, I am not agoraphobic and I am not a fifty-five year old grandmother. I am a girl who sits on the back of a moped and weeps with happiness to be back as we travel the roads by the sea and I smell the salt and the masa and the garlic and I see the tiny Mayan children in their parents' arms.
I am anti-religious. I know who Jesus is so don't try to tell me about him and his plan for me. I wonder what he did all those years between when he was a boy telling the rabbis shit and when he became JESUS. I think he may have had Asperger's Syndrome. I suspect Asperger's Syndrome in many people I have known or who are historical figures. I do not know if he was married to Mary Magdalene or if they had children. I do not know if he was gay. I don't care. I don't think that god was trying very hard if he only had one begotten son.
I worship dirt and growing things and rain and love. I worship babies and light. I worship the oceans and the trees and yes, I have been known to hug a tree. So what?
My favorite form of prayer is dance.
I try to do my best which is so far from perfect I'd have to travel light years just to get a glimpse of it.
I believe in the rights of all people to love and marry whom they choose if those people are consenting adults. I hate self-righteous people who get elected to office and try to tell other people they must live their lives according to small-minded bullshit religious superstitions.
I was a hippie. I think I still am but I do shave my legs. I hate bras. With a mighty passion although I wore my favorite bra last night and it is tiger striped with bright turquoise lace trim and it makes me look like I have bosoms which occasionally is fun.
I love our president. I still love Bill Clinton, too. I'd flirt with him.
I believe that books are holy relics. So are the bones of animals and the shells on the beach and the things made by the hands of people I love.
I love bowls and bags and baskets. I recognize that this is a womb-thing and I feel comfortable admitting that.
I have been to births and I have been to deaths and in doing that, I have learned that there is some sense to this world and I have been humbled and taught not to be so afraid although that's just on a cosmic level. On a small, personal level there is much I am afraid of.
I believe in home birth and home death whenever possible because I believe that mostly these events are spiritual and not medical and I think that having handed these events over to doctors and hospitals has taken away our understanding of what it means to be human.
I love that I live on planet where the faces of the people are of many colors and I love that there are so many cultures and maybe in another lifetime I will be an anthropologist and study those cultures.
I would also like to be a stand-up comedian in another lifetime.
I don't really believe in reincarnation but who am I to say for sure?
I don't know shit.
I do know I love to write and that in the three years I have been writing this blog I have been stunned at the pleasure it has given me. I am stunned that people come here to read it. I have met new people from all over the world and I visit them where they write and I learn from them and I cry with them and I laugh with them and I hope to meet some of them (at least) in real life some day. Or maybe another lifetime. Who knows? Not me.
And now I am going to give my traditional blogoversary wish which is that if you come here to read but never comment I wish you would just, for this one time a year, make your presence known out loud to me in a comment. I cherish comments with all my heart. I think we all do.
All right. Here's to the mysteries and miracles of life which we are all exploring. Together. As we float down and swim down and chug down and sail down and plow down this river of words and pictures we call the blog world on the internet.
Thanks for dropping by. The Church of the Batshit Crazy is always open for business. There is no collection plate, there is no tithing. All are welcome. Come as you are. Come as you were. Come as you want to be.
Let's bless each other's hearts because what else can we do?