The seventh iteration of our annual Mother's Day post.
Happy Mother's Day
Ah…dog poop. Probably one of the (very) minor reasons my second marriage failed…coz The Second Mrs. Pennington was largely in charge of the particularly odious chore — following behind three dogs, including two pretty good-sized ones — let’s say about 90% of it. And she never hesitated to point out that fact to me.
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The Mom’s Day image comes from new-to-me blog TGAW…who has great pics of Glacier National Park, in addition to providing me with this “wouldn’t it be great but it would NEVER frickin’ happen in real life” Mom’s Day illustration. Thanks, TGAW!!
Remind me to write about Glacier…some day.
But, seriously. Happy Mother’s Day to all my favorite Moms, and even to those who aren’t my favorites. I’ll remain cryptic on that last.
Call yer Mom! Or better yet, give her a big hug and a kiss if you still can. There comes a time in life when she won't be around, ya know.My last is still true.
One of the first questions I ask on a date (wait, asked, as I haven't had a date since, hmm, a long time ago...) is "Do you like dogs?"
ReplyDeleteThe wrong answer is "yes." I can tolerate a cat, but best is un poisson rouge.
A red fish? What?
DeleteGoldfish don't poop in the house or the yard.
Delete@Skip: D'oh! I shoulda known that.
DeleteSorry, them Frogs don't know how to say gold :-)
ReplyDeleteAs I contemplate Mothers day, the fact remains - my mother was not quite worthy of the name. Sure she plopped me out, but the rest of my youth were a living hell. I often wondered why she was such a (yes, the B word), and then I met her sister at age 18. She came to America to visit my mother and scheme on how to dump my old man, in which they were successful, only that he married the nicest woman I will ever know 3 months later, a real doll.
My mother and her sister were from the old school of "if it doesn't suck yet, make it suck". When I told my aunt that she was a mean woman, she said "you haven't seen my mean side yet". She lived in Saarbrücken, having left France after the war, and worked in a bank, which must have been painful for her, as she was a communist since the 30's, and how she didn't end-up in a concentration camp was only because of her gender I suspect. My mother said she always carried a gun during the war, and no one else in the family did. I think my mother envied her, but could only rise to the B level, and not cross over to the "bitch kraut killer" (tm) level. Time for more booze...
Confusing sentence, my aunt was the one with the gun. My mother wouldn't let us even have a BB gun.
DeleteMy cousin who died last year, never left Saint-Avold, and was 14 during the war. She finally put all the pegs together for me, on the erector set that was my parents life. Turns out my parents met during a huge battle in town, and my mother and her sister spoke fluent German so they were conscripted to a hospital where the wounded German soldiers were being taken. They acted as translators, and my dad was detailed to find and separate all the officers from the enlisted, and could speak French. My cousin said my mother got cartons of cigarettes from my dad, and that was how they bought food, as money was worthless. My aunt, I suspect, just took the food at the barrel of a gun (at least that's my imagination working) :-) My dad returned to town after the war ended, and I have a document, that says the U.S. Army approved, and that my mother wasn't pregnant, a criminal, or a displaced person.
My cousin said when my aunt was buried, that she was "incinerated" to which I laughed my ass off, because she probably should have been in 1944, but the French don't know how to say "cremated" I suspect.
How about "un poisson d'or?" ;-)
DeleteYou're not all that alone... My Mom had some, shall we say, "improvement areas," as well. Your aunt sounds like a very interesting person, even if she WAS a bitch.
I like d'or! Maybe Poisson d'Orange :-)
DeleteTante Claire had a sad life, and a sad ending. Her son died about 5 years before she did. I think of those two women every year about this time. I can't imagine what kind of adventure my father thought he was going to have... I think if you drive 50 miles in any direction from Lorraine, you'll find the sun actually shines...
I went to Google translate and it turns out "poisson rouge" is the correct term (according to Google, and who amongst us would dispute the Masters of the Universe?). I feel for your Tante Claire... NO ONE should have to bury a child. NO ONE.
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