The Canvas, The Miss & The Click

The Canvas

Remodeling a home helps to create a place where a family can create memories.

It starts as a blank canvas of sorts.

The owner adds the color and depth and atmosphere that they want…instead of what they have.

I am in the business of making a home into a “home sweet home”.

I can help make their dreams a reality.

Their dreams give me nightmares.

But, I love what I do…so I do what I love.

The Miss

Currently, I am working out of town.

3-4 days a week for the next 2 weeks.

Another blank canvas in another town.

Work 12 hours a day. Sleeping on a blow up mattress in an empty house.

All the while, wishing I was at home with my wife and kids.

I’m here.

They are not.

I do what I love….but I do not love being away from them.

Things are happening at home that I only get to hear about but not be part of.

-my daughter can’t find her jacket
-my son is going bi polar over his grounding
-my wife had to give my chihuahua an enema.
-the family huddled in the center of the house, with candles, because of tornado warnings.

Me? I work, eat, sleep.

I talk to my wife on the phone. It’s not the same as being there. Texting is disconnected communication.

I. Miss. Them.

The Click

I quit counting down the hours when I got the news we are staying another day this week.

Part of the customer’s canvas needed to be erased as the dream has altered from the previous dream.

Let the nightmares begin.

If it were as easy as closing my eyes, clicking my heels together 3 times and saying,

“There’s no place like home.”

I would have been home already….

But I don’t have ruby red slippers,

I have 2 pairs of Chuck Taylor’s.

And that stupid witch keeps changing remodeling plans, making it difficult for me to get home.

The Rise

Up from the ashes
Of a storm gone awry
The Phoenix, once again, rises
To clear away the grey
And release a cleansing battle cry.

Anything….Except That

My wife will do anything for love…

But she won’t do that.

In The End

The joys of parenting never cease to amaze me….

Oh wait…did I I say…..joys?

I MEANT THE WOES!!!!

All caps make me feel powerful.

This weekend brought another first in our journey of parenthood.

Our 16 year old sons first hangover.

It only added to the weekend that needed to just end.

He went to stay at a friends house. My wife reluctantly let him take his truck.

I said, “We have to trust him at some point.”

Those would be one of my many famous last words.

We got a call at 8 am, from him, saying he had been drinking the night before and was dizzy and throwing up and couldn’t drive home.

For those new to this blog…my wife and I are both sober. She just surpassed the 9 year mark (YAY!), and I am over 6 years.

So this news, although not surprising, was quite surprising.

We has a discussion before picking him up to have some sort of plan of action.

This has nothing to do with our plan of action….

COME ON!

Murdering our son for drinking….ok..it crossed our mind but we didn’t.

That is my truck with red barn paint spilled all over the bed and tailgate. I really need to learn to close the tops of paint better.

Anyhoo,

We got him home and he looked like hell.

We waited for him to beg for forgiveness…..

That’s not my son. That’s my dog who isn’t feeling well. We don’t know what is wrong but she sits like that and moans in pain. No vets open on the weekend. She been like that since this morning.

Our son wanted to just go to bed and sleep it off.

What kind of parents would we be if we allowed him to do that?

I wouldn’t know because we didn’t allow him to do that.

We told him he needed to do his laundry, clean his room,

AND

mow the lawn.

After that we would consider rest for him.

We live in Central Texas. Today it was about 90 degrees by 10 am.

He huffed, and puffed, and mowed, and dry heaved and sweated. And threw up and mowed over it. And finished.

How did he do?

It looked like a hungover teenager mowed our yard.

I redid it after he went in.

We are grateful he told us what he did instead of lying and saying he was just sick.

The truth still has consequences.

We are disappointed in his decision making.

We as parents can teach, guide, educate, and inform on our experiences from that age.

Much to his denial, we were teenagers at one point.

But,

Regardless of all that information, it is up to him to make the decisions that he makes.

In the end, it is all part of HIS growing up process.

Strangely similar to the process I went through so many years ago.

“Hey son!! Wake up….you missed a spot.”

Overcast Imagine

As a child, I looked to the skies.

Hoping for clouds to drown out the sun.

For, in the overcast above,

My imagination would light up,

And allow an escape from the real.

As an adult, I look to the skies.

My escape more defined

The clouds still offer relief

And give my mind time to heal.

For more entries to this weeks challenge press here.

Fashion….Turn To the Left…..

Unexpected surprises are a good thing.

Usually when checking the mail, I am bombarded with bills, cut off notices, and pizza coupons.

But not today!!

I received a fancy envelope with a gold foil stamp on it.

Turns out, I have been specially selected from a random portion of our towns population to be a judge for a fashion show.

I was Giggity with anticipation. I even informed my wife of my good fortune.

“Check it out honey….I have been selected to judge a fashion show.” I said gleefully.

She giggled and replied,

“You? What are you judging? Paint stained jeans and beat up high tops? That’s about the extent of YOUR fashion sense…..”

I smirked and retorted,

“Don’t be jealous. They must have gotten ahold if that Internet IQ test I took….I should be a member of MENSA.”

She shook her head and said under her breathe,

“You should be a member of something. Go ahead make us proud….like you always do.”

And smirked…once again….as she left the room.
________

I get all fancied up with my only Izod polo shirt, my only pair of jeans without work related memories on them and my new Chuck Taylor’s that I bought for the event……with the Eddie Van Halen guitar print on them (BOOYAH), and followed the cryptic map to the fashion show.

Living in a small town, it’s not too hard to find big events….just look for the crowd of monster trucks and barely running 80′s Lincoln Town Cars and you will pretty much be there.

It was odd to me that it was on a hunting ranch on the outskirts of town….but hey chicks in bikini’s are fine with me wherever it happens to be.

I went up to the gate and flashed my fancy invitation.

A guy in overalls and fishing boots took a look at it and a look at me and said,

“We been waitin fer you. Kinda overdressed ain’t ya?”

I replied,

“I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was a judge, so I fancied up.”

“Suit urself. You are with Tiny…” He said and pointed to a raised building about 25 yards away. I now know it what is referred to as a “deer blind”….whatever. Bring on the scantily clad women!!

I opened the door and walked in….barely….an sat down. Tiny was anything but tiny.

“Ur jus in time, boy. Round 1 is about to start.” He said as he handed me binoculars.

“What are these for?” I asked

“Without em, ya may not find the new designs…”

“Wha….????” I thought as I raised them to my eyes.

He is looking and writing numbers down on his pad. I’m looking and getting more frustrated.

I turn my head while looking through the lenses to the left and then slowly over to the right and say,

“I DONT SEE ANYTHING BUT FREAKING TREES AND FOLIAGE!!!” I yelled.

He looks at me funny and says…

“That means they got great designs….ain’t you never been to a camouflage fashion show, boy?”

“Uggghhhh.”

This fashion show sucks.

The Beauty Of The Beast

While working in a freaking barn, always remember to check the ladder you are carrying around. There may be surprises lurking….

On the plus side……I get to add another phobia to my list of many.

3 Days Away

In my younger days, working out of town would be something to look forward to.

There was a routine to it.

1-Get up and work.

2-Put In a hard day of labor.

3-Shower.

4-Then put in a hard night of drinking.

5-Repeat until job is done.

Now I’m older….not so much wiser….but I don’t drink any more. So going out of town to work is just about the work.

New routine is as follows…

1-Up at 7 am

2-Work 12 hours

3-Shower

4-Eat

5-Bed

But…

Basically living on the jobsite…how can I put it nicely….sucks.

I would rather run naked…..handcuffed and blindfolded through a cactus farm than do this again.

And yet I will do this again.

Monday through Wednesday for the next 2 weeks.

Here are the NON perks of living on the jobsite.

1- sleeping on an air mattress.

2- no hot water.

3- falling asleep in construction dust.

4- waking up in construction dust.

5- did I mention no hot water?

Nothing makes me appreciate my home more than remodeling and living in someone else’s for a while.

These are my accommodations.

Here is my destiny.

Dearest Mommy

Today is the day to celebrate the person that brought us into the world.

The person who nurtured, educated, scolded, praised and pushed us to be better.

Mom

It’s more than a day to buy her a card, flowers or a gift from a store or boutique.

It is a day to remember the gift of love that she continues to give whether we deserve it or not.

Here is a short history of me and my Mom-

I was born a mommy’s boy. Her first born but second child. The first, she and my Dad adopted when she was told she would not be able to bear children.

Until the age of 16, I was the one that would make them proud. College, career, the family dream. She was so proud of me.

By 21, I failed out of college 3 times in the first semester, became a daily drinker and routinely stole money out of her purse when I went home to eat. She was disappointed in me but still hopeful of her young son.

By 28 years old, I was divorced and jobless and still a daily drinker with quite the cocaine habit added in.

She was at home, taking care of my ailing father, who had Cancer. She stuck by him through his long bout with alcoholism and would stick by his side until his death. She knew she had a son that was following his fathers sordid past. She still stuck by me.

At 30, my Mother and I were at my father’s side for his final moments. His wife and his firstborn there for his departure. She was strong and knew he was off to a better place. I was drunk and high. She asked me to move home to help her get by. I did, but she helped me get by.

At 33, she had had enough and moved out of state to be closer to other family members. She could not stay and watch me destroy myself. She had had enough and left.

At 36, I was out of jail and into rehab and called her to ask for money to get into a halfway house. She was living off her hourly wage job and my Dad’s benefits and barely making it. She sent the money and said,

“This is it. If you don’t change, don’t call me anymore.”

There is no tougher love than goodbye.

I am now 43. Clean and sober for a few years now. I am married and the stepfather to 2 children and a husband to a wonderful wife and Mother. I talk to my Mom weekly and spend time with her in person whenever possible and tell her of the hardships and joys of parenting and married life. She just smiles.

My Mother’s gift to me is worth more than a card or a flower.

She showed me a Mother’s love DOES have bounds.

One son can only take so much before the ties that bind need to be severed.

But

Severed ties can be repaired. I had to learn that love is conditional.

The condition being-

Learn from mistakes. Grow up. Don’t expect from anyone…respect.

Thanks, Mom.

I’m still learning, growing and respecting myself and others.

-photo taken before my fall from my Mother’s grace. Sometime before I decided that shaving my head was a great choice.

The Taco Uproar

When is a taco more than a taco?

I have been perplexed with this very question for weeks now.

The ingredients of your standard taco are

Ground beef
Lettuce
Tomato
Shredded cheese
Crispy corn tortilla shell

Of course it can be flared up with

Salsa
Sour cream
Guacamole

That pretty much sums up the taco….
Or so I thought.

First, Taco Bell…..

There motto used to be

“Make a run for the border”

Currently, they have been running FROM the border. Nothing on there menu resembles anything I ever ate in Mexico.

I mean “Locos Tacos”?

What half baked stoner fast food hippie executive came up with this idea?

“Dude….imagine it…get rid of the corn tortilla shell of the taco and replace it with huge taco shell shaped nacho cheese flavored dorito. That…..would….be…LOCO….man.”

No…it is ESTUPIDO!

Please…put down the bong while you are in the process of losing what identity of a Mexican style restaurant you have left…..Gracias.

Second, Taco Fusion

ABC news reports-

Since Taco Fusion, a Mexican restaurant known to offer unusual game meats like ostrich, camel, and bison in its tacos, added lion meat to its menu of “Safari Tacos” on May 2, the restaurant has had to field hostile calls from critics who are up in arms over the menu choice.

“[People have been] coming into the establishment and throwing punches,” the restaurant’s manager Brad Barnett told “Good Morning America.” “They say they are going to bomb us, burn us down, blow us up.”

“They threatened to kidnap Brad [Barnett] and the owner,” another manager, Bayardo Alvarez, told ABC News.

Despite the disapproval, Taco Fusion ran out of lion meat Friday night, Alvarez said.

Even though the animal is in danger of extinction, it is legal to sell and eat lion meat in the United States.

On its menu, the establishment alerts patrons that its game meat offerings are in limited supply and are available at market price. For lion meat, this translates to $34.99 a taco, compared to less expensive options like kangaroo or ostrich, both costing $13.99, Alvarez said.

I am personally not offended by lion meat tacos…..I wouldn’t eat them…..but I am not offended.

Why?

It probably tastes like chicken.

If I want a chicken taco….I will get one….and won’t have to invade Africa to satisfy my taste buds to do it.

During my high school years, I would go get drunk in Mexico on at least a weekly basis. Before stumbling back across the International Bridge I would often stop to eat at a roadside taco stand. I called it “Gatos Tacos” which translates to cat tacos for all you non Spanish speakers.

Was I, in fact, partaking in consuming feline flesh?

I don’t know, but there were no strays anywhere and a collection of cute collars with bells on them stashed in the alley. Make your own judgement.

Anyhoo….I would get 3 exotic tacos for 85 cents. Sometimes if I was feisty I got 2 orders.

What offends me about the Fusion place is-1 Mufasa taco….$34.99….

ONE TACO FOR $34.99????

A weem away…a weem away, indeed.

They must be catering to a fairly ignorant crowd if they are willing to pay that for 1 taco.

I bet refried beans and rice are extra.

And….

How come ostrich and kangaroo tacos are over $20 cheaper?

Have you ever tried to catch an ostrich or a kangaroo?

They are pretty quick….and the kangaroo has a mean left hook.

Like Forrest Gump used to say-

“Life is like an box of tacos….you never know what you are going to get.”