Once upon a time...there was a girl named Poopie who gave every ounce of her soul away just to feel worthy. There were gobs of people and institutions just dying to accept the gift that she gave away so willingly. There was a Mom and Dad and brothers plus a bunch of aunts and uncles and cousins who knew her from back when she was a snotty nosed brat smearing poop all over the walls of the log cabin she grew up in. Think Ward and June Cleaver in the country. There was more than one Eddie Haskell, by the way :)

Poopie went to school almost every day and remembers the days that JFK and MLK were murdered just like it was a lunchtime. She still carries a mental image of the first black student in her fifth grade class at Alice Thurmond elementary school. No buses involved...Vernell just showed up with a pencil behind his ear to torment old Mrs. Nixon for a year. To Poops, it was a non-event. She always wondered why the kids she played with on the farm didn't go to school with her anyhow.

That farm was the most boringist place in the whole wide universe to a girl with two mischievous little brothers and very little private time. Her mama worked at the newspaper office as the society editor, doing weddings and teas and such. Later on she collected recipes from everybody in Dyer County and printed 'em on Thursdays. Daddy was..and is...an ag man. The day job was with the USDA as a plant pest protection specialist. A bug man, for short. His maps at the office were full of pins noting just where the Japanese beetle had been spotted. The night job was all about lookin' after the farm, critters crops and all. There was always a garden and Mama spent countless sweaty summer nights canning and scalding produce so we could eat good during the winter. The calves were born in the dead of winter and Daddy had to go out in the middle of the night a whole lot to help them heifers and cows out when the going got rough. He used chains sometimes. Other times it was just his gloved hands pulling that baby into Big Ernie's world smack onto the snow covered ground.

First chance she got, she caught a ride with Tootsie and Cathy Lou to club meetings at the high school and they rode around afterwards then took her back home. It was about 1969 then and Vietnam was raging full force. She saw several guys come back to the 'burg who were never right after that. Runnin' around all lost and shit acting like big shots and trying to kill the pain of their memories in the jungle with LSD and pot. The same year that a brazillion hippies converged on Woodstock, Neil Armstrong and company landed on the moon with one small step for man and a giant leap into the seventies.

She married young and partied like a rock star for several years. Then the Babygirl came along and that changed a lot for about 20 years. From that point on, her focus was on being a mom and doing her best at the day job. Most of her close friendships were work friends..folks that she spent her days with under pressure pausing to talk about life and love now and then. Kids were born and family members died and we ate a lot of good food. When somebody had enough of their spouse or was in a bad wreck the faithful were there to pick up the pieces and soldier on. We met often at the funeral home or at somebody's bedside. Once we even dangled our legs over the Mississippi River bridge and talked about jumping. We didn't though..ate french fries and talked instead.

The husband had a lot of demons that he just couldn't bear to face. Every time Poops tried to get him to talk he told her she was "fuckin' analyzing him." Beginning recovery from co-dependency was more a survival technique than anything else. Melody Beattie and John Bradshaw will do that for a gal against the wall. They divorced once and got back together when he went to jail for posession. Babygirl was thirteen at the time. There was a bankruptcy and several strained years of co-habitation. About a hundred years, at least. He never hit Poops, but he never paid any attention to her either. Just acted like she was part of the woodwork. I think he enjoyed the food too.

Babygirl did the usual teenage getting-into-everything act and ended up in college without a clue what she wanted to be when she grew up. Nurse? nope Phlebotomist? me thinks not Cook? dang good one Social worker? damn right Would she marry Colbert? in a heartbeat. She has taught her old Mom a lot about tolerance and justice. Helped her to realize that it was okay to let go of the family that was and blend with others on a wing and a prayer. Thanks girl. Loveya..mean it.

The single Poops was a total mess for a couple of years, addicted married to the computer for company. Seemed much safer than lookin' for a real live man and all his baggage. This guy came along who was a friend with benefits and it was all good for a long time. He came, she went and vice versa. They talked a lot about life and dogs and nature and shit. He showed her a thing or two about poop in general and birds specifically. Dude likes to shoot their asses and fry them up real nice with gravy after the dog fetches 'em. I never!

Anywho..i think it all turned out alright. She's still kicking. Still lookin' for the real thing, baby. Excited about decorating the tree and the Advent journey. Expecting miracles every.single.day.

"Leave room for the drummer" Rvrguy

^j^