Daydreams, Seashells and Aunt Moses

Last weekend, the holler was full of stinky hikers, this week? River rats. The campground hosts a river festival every year, with B-list rock bands, festival tents and lots and lots of alcohol. Ten years ago? I would have been right there in the middle of it, but now I just know I'd spend the whole time whining about how far it was to the nearest Porta-Potty.

I spent most of yesterday working on the pendants pictured above. I cast my own molds from some seashells I had lying around and finished them off with my own "faux shell" painting technique. I've got a few other ideas I've been kicking around, I'm thinking about putting them on What do ya'll think?

I woke up this morning to a yelping chihuahuaranian, Ma loudly hissing "SHHHHHHH!" every two seconds and the sound of the front door opening and closing. Nine o'clock might not seem that early to most of ya'll, but I was up watching the boob tube 'til all hours of the night and had planned to sleep in.

I rolled out of bed and staggered down the hall to find Ma sitting at the kitchen table with a defiant look, the front door standing wide open and Aunt Moses barrelling in the front door, waving a soaking wet Sunday paper in my face.

"HERE'S YER PAPER!!!" she announced.

I may have mumbled something like... "just throw it down... gawd," as I stumbled to the bathroom. I don't know what she was doing here, she was gone when I came out. I lumbered in to the kitchen to make coffee, Ma glaring at me from atop her glasses.

"I don't know why you're always in such a bad mood. Do you really hate living here that much that you're just angry all the time?"

Sweet Jesus. All I did was get up and pee and already I've managed to piss her off.

My attitude. My smart mouth. She takes me right back to 12 years old in a sentence.

I probably said some things I shouldn't have, none of which I meant and now I'll spend the remainder of the day in a mental tug o' war, trying to talk myself out of all the self guilt and loathing. Ma will, no doubt, call Aunt Moses and discuss my mood swings, making my reputation as the crazy, spinster cousin... with anger issues... firmly carved in granite for eternity.


I think I'm gonna go pour myself another cup of coffee, put my feet up, close my eyes and drift away in to daydreams about witty men in black eyeliner, whispering sweet nothings in my ear with foreign accents.

Y'all have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

P.S. Now you can also find me at Same blog. Same nonsense.