The 2014 Newsletter
OUR DOG DIDN'T DIE AND THE
TRUCK'S STILL RUNNING BUT MAMMA'S GOT A SHOTGUN WITH A LOOSE BARREL
A few years
ago, I considered writing a Country Western song. Not to get rich, or become
famous—because we all know how things turn out if that's what you're striving
for in life. All I wanted to do was find a unique approach to the annual
newsletter, and maybe poke a little fun at the place we now consider home:
Georgia.
I'm pretty sure that little ditty lives
on somewhere—maybe on a hard drive or in the scribbled pages of a notebook. When
I die y'all can sell it to Taylor Swift and split the millions. You've got my
blessing.
Damn. That
sounds like a Country Western song right there: family, lost treasure, a dead
broad and blessings.
Truth is,
sometimes I get an idea in my head and just can't shake it. Most people call
this crazy. Some, well, one person anyway, calls it "genius."
That's why this
year you're getting a full-on Sandes Country Western rendition of our 2014.
You could also
BLAME IT ON THE MOONSHINE or the fact that Linda
started the year in Key West, at the southernmost tip of the US of A. Or... because
she took her first trip to Nashville, Tennessee.
Yessiree.
Music City! Also known as Cashvegas, The Home of the Honky Tonk, The Heart of
Country Music, The Soul of High Carb Living, Twang Town, Trashville, the Third
Coast, Rock City, Not Memphis, The Protestant Vatican, The Buckle of the Bible
Belt and my favorite: Nashvegas! Yeah, baby.
It was a fantastic road trip from the
ATL. Two sassy gals in a Jaguar convertible with a trunk of wine and good
intentions. I prefer not to dwell on the redhead returning home with a broken
wrist—because what happens in Nashvegas, stays in Nashvegas—especially when
you're invited there to speak on a mystery panel. (PARDON
ME) I'VE GOT SOMEONE TO KILL.
In Twang Town,
country music blares out of every street corner speaker, every shop, bar and
restaurant. In the Buy 1, Get 2 Free Boot shop, we heard, I BOUGHT THE SHOES THAT JUST WALKED OUT ON ME. Over
lunch, we were serenaded by a sparkly-suited gentleman crooning, IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER, I'D LIVE OVER A DELICATESSEN. By
dinnertime, I was speaking in full-blown country-western song titles. Yep, I MAY BE USED, BUT BABY I AIN'T USED UP.
Oh, you see where I'm going, don't you.
Yes, those are real life country western song titles. Well, most of them anyway.
As usual, the even years are a time of settling-in
for us. Fixing things, making things, staying close to home and hearth. This
year, I learned YOU CAN'T HAVE YOUR KATE AND EDITH,
TOO. But that never stops me from
trying, even if—as we say in Bunco, IT TAKES ME ALL
NIGHT LONG TO DO WHAT I USED TO DO ALL NIGHT LONG.
M worked his
butt off this year too. He was proud to say, JIM, I
WORE A TIE TODAY. If I didn't know better, I'd think his daily prayer
was, DROP KICK ME, JESUS, THROUGH THE GOALPOSTS OF LIFE.
He certainly put in some long hours at the office, while I thought, I DON'T KNOW WHETHER TO KILL MYSELF OR GO BOWLING.
Of course, there was plenty of writing
and rewriting time, pestering the agent to pester the editors, telling them, IF I AIN'T GOT IT, YOU DON'T NEED IT. While the
topsy-turvy world of publishing had me saying, I'VE GOT
THE HUNGRIES FOR YOUR LOVE AND I'M WAITING IN THE WELFARE LINE.
Yeah, a girl's
got to believe in herself and stick to her guns, because IF I CAN'T BE NUMBER ONE IN YOUR LIFE, THEN NUMBER TWO ON YOU.
Trying to
helpful, M suggested he was GONNA HIRE A WINO TO
DECORATE OUR HOME, but Linda rose to the
challenge and by spring, we had a new patio and were WALKING
ON SLIPPERY ROCKS TO FALL INTO YOU.
In March,
Linda hosted her 12th birthday event, combining a St. Patrick's Day pub crawl
with a dancing party bus, inviting friends old and new. DON'T WORRY DARLING POLISH VODKA WON'T MAKE YOUR CLOTHES FALL OFF.
At one bar, M was heard to say, I WISH I WAS A WOMAN, SO I COULD GO OUT WITH A GUY LIKE ME.
At stop number three, a guy in a green wig assured him that was still possible
as Linda texted: I WAS LOOKING BACK TO SEE IF YOU WERE
LOOKING BACK TO SEE IF I WAS LOOKING BACK TO SEE IF YOU WERE LOOKING BACK AT ME.
The Milton cops thought it was funny.
We concluded the wet months at a local (cheap)
version of the Kentucky Derby, slogging a bunch of folks to The Steeplechase
singing, BEER FOR MY HORSES while playing Cards
Against Humanity, because I'm the QUEEN OF MY
DOUBLEWIDE TRAILER. and SHE THINKS MY TRACTOR'S
SEXY.
As the weather warmed, Linda blazed new
NC trails with her hiking buddy, Debbie. By the end of their escape they were
singing the camper's favorite tune: I'D LIKE TO CHECK
YOU FOR TICKS.
Back home at
UGA, the boy took some tough summer courses. I'LL SUBLET YOUR UGLY APARTMENT, JUST STACK YOUR BOXES BY THE
DOOR but WHO'S GONNA MOW YOUR GRASS?
The girl (SHE GOT FRECKLES ON HER, BUT SHE'S PRETTY) was
surprised by her friends with a Sweet 16 party, then took driving lessons from
a female bodybuilder/stand-up comic/substitute teacher, whose lessons included IF LOVE WERE OIL, I'D BE A QUART LOW and IT'S NOT THE HIGH COST OF LIVING, IT'S THE COST OF LIVING
HIGH.
Yes, it was a
good year. Pretty sure THERE AIN'T ENOUGH ROOM IN MY
FRUIT OF THE LOOMS TO HOLD ALL MY LOVIN' FOR YOU.
In Florida, we
had plenty of beach time with a house full of
females, learning, YOU CAN LOCK ME UP IN JAIL AND THROW
AWAY THE KEY BUT YOU CAN'T STOP MY FACE FROM BREAKING OUT. The boy went
back to school and got his first apartment saying, I'M
A GROWN ASS MAN, BUT MAMA CAN YOU HANG MY DRAPES?
And of course,
there were outings to DRAGON CON: I DON'T KNOW WHETHER
TO COME HOME OR GO CRAZY, the Decatur Book Festival: MY RED NECK, MY WHITE SOCKS AND MY BLUE RIBBON BEER,
and Netherworld with the besties, where I SAT DOWN ON A
BEAR TRAP.
In the fall, s
an anniversary gift, M finally kept his promise to join Linda backpacking. SHE TOLD ME TO TAKE A HIKE AND I DID, HOLDING HER HAND.
Though he was heard to murmur I'D RATHER HAVE A BOTTLE
IN FRONT OF ME THAN A FRONTAL LOBOTOMY before agreeing. It was just one
night and he admitted that SLEEPING IN THE WOODS IS
GRAND EXCEPT FOR THE SPIDERS ON MY FACE.
With the kids
back at school, Linda got busy finishing the fifth book and planning more Girls
Night Out Events, sad to learn YOU CAN'T ROLLERSKATE IN
A BUFFALO HERD. But you can shoo your husband off to Poker Night, even
if he says, I'D RATHER PLAY POKER WITH YOUR DOG, HE MAY
BITE BUT HE DON'T WHINE HALF AS MUCH AS YOU.
THERE'S
A TEAR IN MY BEER as I
realize my kids are no longer babies because I JUST
BOUGHT A CAR FROM THE GUY THAT STOLE MY GIRL, BUT THE CAR DON'T RUN SO I FIGURE
WE GOT AN EVEN DEAL.
I prefer not
to dwell on the hole in pocket but IF I HAD A NOSE FULL
OF NICKLES, I'D SNEEZE THEM ALL ATCHOO.
Even after
taking a REFRIED DREAMS cooking class with M: SADDLE UP THE STOVE MOM, I'M RIDING THE RANGE TONIGHT,
he made a kitchen faux pas by grabbing a wrapped package from the freezer in GA
and driving it all the way to FL not checking it.
So on
Christmas day, we had a beautiful little roaster chicken instead of a fat round
turkey breast. In the end, poultry is still poultry and there's nothing sweeter
than family puzzle time while doing the POULTRY
PROMENADE.
Later, watching a bunch of old home
movies, I experienced a TRAINWECK OF EMOTION
mixed with feelings of that dream where THE BRIDGE
WASHED OUT AND I CAN'T SWIM AND MY BABY'S ON THE OTHER SIDE. Maybe it's
true, I'D RATHER HEAR A FAT GIRL FART THAN A PRETTY BOY
SING.
After a week,
it became apparent: there is such a thing as too much family beach time when
one is OVER LONELY AND UNDERKISSED, and MY GIVE-A -DAMN'S BUSTED. Or maybe that's just fodder
for more shitty songs.
All in all, we've had a great year,
stealing our moments when we can, building new friendships and making plans for
another fantastic year of opportunities.
We hope to see all of you and raise a
toast to the happiness you create regardless of circumstances.
Be well. Smile
often and dance, dance, dance. Because I STILL MISS YOU
BABY, BUT MY AIM'S GETTING BETTER.
Happy Holidays
and best wishes for 2015!
If you've missed any of the previous
years, or are just looking for some bathroom reading, a bunch of the old
letters are posted here on this blog, along with an assortment of ornaments, errr... pornaments* that I've fashioned over the years.
Enjoy!
*WARNING
Adults Only
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