Mornings can be magical.

Sometimes its me.

What a bummy thing to realize. For my friends who are not Ciudadano de Estados Unidos, bummy as in a bum living off handouts not what we all sit on.

I've gotten a bit outspoken. I know I have always been plain spoken. But lately, it's me.

At first I thought it could be because of my writing passion. I find myself organizing my thoughts, having an opinion, re-organizing and having another opinion. I worry about being more hard-headed. All of your gifts from God has an edge. One of my gifts is having a strong will and a sense of determination. Their dull and grating edge is a hard head.

Then I thought, it could be my home life. I have no regrets about my choices. I know the consequences and they are using those two gifts. I understand the loneliness of the young housewife. I've always had a career. The career was not without it's problems but it checkmated my independent drive. I always had to consider the other point of view.

And that is the crux of the problem. Keeping that social point of view.

My mom likes me to handle things. When the neighbor called the law on Christmas Eve because Daisy the 9 pound chihuahua decided to chase horses that day, the sheriff deputy found himself lost for words when my mother who was only about 84 at the time came out to defend Daisy with a forceful push of her walker. That is when I told mom. She was in charge of some things.

Age gives privilege. I do meet sweet younger souls who defer to my age. My true nature instinctively wants to turn and snarl when I figure it out. Thankfully, I'm usually in the car on my next part of the journey when the realization hits. I appreciate the special treatment.

But sincerely, 61 is not that dang old.  I've never been a sun worshiper and genetics are in my favor; I don't have crow's feet of yet. It's that silver hair of mine that's to blame. It has been this way for almost 20 years. I remember when I stopped coloring my hair. Floating black hair is not my thing.

I'm going to start walking with my camera again. This morning a thick fog hung over the overgrown pasture in front of my house. I noticed it was extended up the small rise to the neighbor's horse farm. My driveway had a misty bridge of the condensation over my driveway. I did not try to retrieve a camera. I knew the freshly risen sun would have it burned off probably as I walked under it.

The other night I corrected a woman who wanted to write race and racism in the South. I shared three facts with her. She had no knowledge of what she was writing which was true. She should never use the N word no matter if it was used liberally at one time in history. She should set her lynching in Southern Illinois where she is from because they weren't the hotbed of civil rights she thinks it would be. "Sundown towns" comes to mind.

At one time, I would have just listened.

What is wrong with me? It does not matter. There is so much being written and not read. What does it matter?

I was the only Southerner in the group. I did not get a negative reaction from anyone. What bothered me about what I said is that sort of talking can make people uncomfortable. But like that mist this morning, it is over and done with. I hope to see another mist. Unfortunately, I'll probably open my mouth and insert my foot again.

So make me feel better. When have you blown off when you should have kept your mouth shut. Or what cool things did you see this morning.

Cheers, Ann






Comments

  1. I'm usually a smart arse and people tend not to realize I've insulted them or said something they dislike until I've left lol other times some just deserve it though and away "pound sand" shall flow.

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    1. I know the first part has to be true. But for the most part, I know you are probably a gentleman. Your humor tells that about you.

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  2. Grey streaks in my hair means it's harder to pass for someone in his thirties anymore. But no one pegs me over fifty, that's for sure.
    Take your camera. Get some of that mist and post a photo for us.

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    1. When I see a young gal lightning her dark hair, I feel like shaking her arm and telling her she will miss all that dark hair one day.

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  3. Wow! Did you take that picture (top right)? It’s gorgeous. We were in the mountains over the weekend, and though it seemed like half the west coast was there too, it was quiet at our place. Weeds had grown knee-high since we’d last been there but our grandson refused to let us whack them down; stating that the tiny white and yellow flowers belonged in Nana’s yard because she likes pretty things. Sometimes I love that kid to pieces.
    I think we’re all just kernels waiting for the right time to pop. Often, I’m the one that pops right out of the pot and onto the floor where the dog devours it. Sometimes you just have to say what’s on your mind or risk becoming burnt. Besides, you may have saved the woman from later embarrassment.
    Honestly, I thought I’d never stop getting carded. Turns out I was right, now they want proof for the wrinkle discounts ;-)

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    1. I once was carded at an Atlanta Braves game for buying a beer. It made my day. Then I found out they carded everyone. What a disappointment. lol

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  4. I am a morning lover. It is nearly seven here now and a gentle (and very welcome) smattering of rain is falling.
    I bite my tongue often. And regret it often.
    I have earned my grey hairs. Each and every one of them, and firmly believe life is too short to die my hair (to cover the grey anyway). I am however leaning towards going bright blue. A really bright blue. And will probably wimp out.

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    1. I've thought of one of the bright colors. They look like a lot of fun and a good way to tell everyone you are full of life.

      As a former night owl, I'm glad I've been converted by necessity to being a morning person. It is an absolutely wonderful time of the day. I love the sound of rain. To shut up in the house to read and listen to the rain is sheer pleasure to me.

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  5. That 1st and last hour of the day are golden moments for photos so I always go running if I can.

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  6. Stopped dying my hair 11 years ago; got to be that the roots started showing after about 6 weeks and it just became too expensive. One day if I ever strike it rich, we'll see if I start the process again. I've mellowed over the years and I am more careful with the words I say, especially out in public. I do get on rants and raves about certain things with hubby as my audience, but thankfully he has a way to defuse me if I carry on too long.

    betty

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  7. I wrote a novel that takes place in 1859 in North Carolina. I struggled on whether or not to use the N word. Since it was historically accurate, I did, but I don't think I overused the word. We will see what my future editors think.

    I haven't started dying my hair yet because it's blond and I'm the type who might go into a hair salon once a year for a "trim". The grey hair have actually lightened it up considerably.

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    1. I'm writing race in all my books. I don't live where everyone is the same color. I used this blog without much success to test the waters. People avoid certain topics like the plague. I do it too.

      My difficulty is writing harsh words and character without using curse words. The stories are for adults. But I like the idea of an older teenager reading them.

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  8. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line I went from being a night owl to a morning person. I love the early morning when the world is quiet. Especially this time of year when the air seems especially crisp and clear.

    I also find that the older I get (I'm 58) the more opinionated I get - I think I just have less patience for what I perceive to be the general stupidity of others. LOL


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    1. I hear you on having opinions. I'm trying to remind myself not to be too feisty. My mother is feisty and I guess I come by it honestly.

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