Follow me via your Email

Saturday, March 30, 2013


My inner child has roused from her slumber. She has been having some breakthroughs the past few years to whisper some long forgotten secrets in my ear. I suppose when you squelch the magic and innocence of that original little true person you were too early, they go into a state of forced time-out, waiting on the long seasons of your teens and adulthood to pass while all the time watching in a defiant pout and trying to raise protests to deaf ears. I remember a specific event in my childhood while in a particularly vulnerable and angry state that I gathered all my toys from the home of my childhood that my dad occupied and threw them heart was hard and broken and those best friends did not represent what I knew then as the truth. Farewell to my trusty stick horse, favorite worn baby doll and the few books I cherished. I was about twelve and I was grown and everything was changed forever by events out of my control. But before I digress too far and fall ass backwards into a depressive episode, the reason for this memory lane stroll is really quite funny. Since this is day three of my four day mini vacation, I felt like I had the energy to write a little, so me and Team Tucker( my three furbabies) took to the Granny Bed to watch some TV and blog. My plans were to tune in The Walking Dead marathon on AMC but instead I happened to find  The Wizard of Oz on Disney. How many times I have watched this movie is surely well into the hundreds, however it has been a few years since I have indulged.
Oh how I loved to see that pink bubble coming to save the day!
Dorothy had just landed in Oz and for some reason, maybe the fresh Ramps I have ate for a couple days now, has acted like a spring tonic and I felt a little frisky. Now you mountain people will understand the power of the Ramp, it is an extremely strong member of the  wild onion family that grows in the Appalachian mountains.When eaten raw, as I prefer, you stink to high heaven for a day or so.  Similar to garlic, but a little different. They are only available a few weeks and they are like gold in them thar' hills to us mountaineers. Anyway, for some unexpected reason I felt the strong urge to sing all the songs very loudly with all the Munchkins and their descendents... I particularly like singing with the Mayor and Coroner. I crooned with the Lullaby League and the Lollipop Guild. Now I must confess that I am akin to a very famous family of excellent singers from the hills of  East Tennessee, actually very close kin, and I too sing like a bird... a crow.  It is awful, caterwauling at its finest. If you are not familiar with the term caterwauling, the definition is pretty much "screeching like a cat in heat"..yep it was that bad. I have traumatized my dogs terribly, well all except Happy Pappy and he is deaf as a post...I have seen the look of  " Oh Lordy, Lordy" on Merry and Pips little faces a couple times in the past few years. Thank God pets love you unconditionally and can't call Mobile Crisis.
   Watching this movie every March as child is one of my treasured memories that I pray I can carry with me to the grave. My mom would make real fudge that night. Do you know what I mean by real fudge? Hershey's Cocoa Fudge made in a cast iron skillet that took about 45 minutes to cook. She would drop a little bit into cold water to see if it was ready. It was the longest hour or so of our life. She would let me and my sister scrape all the warm fudge out of the skillet with a spoon before she washed it. The first time I watched it, I was about five or six . I was so upset over Toto being in the scary woman's bicycle basket that I burst into tears and began to wail and say a few choice words about Almira Gulch. My father worked in profanity just as Ralphies dad did in A Christmas Story.  My mom turned off the TV and said that I couldn't watch it if I was going to cry and be scared. I pleaded and bargained and ran into her bedroom and dusted my face with her Taboo dusting powder to cover any evidence of tears. By this time my sister was about to choke me. All you could see was white powder and two big brown eyes.  I remember mom laughing and turning the TV back on. OH JOY... so began my love affair with all things OZ. My inner child started collecting memorabilia when I was in my twenties, but I have a pretty good handle on it , just a few special items. In the past 10 years or so she has been pulling me into nostalgic thoughts of the past. Thanks to the wonders of E-Bay, I now have a well worn replica of my stick horse. He sits in a stand by the bedroom fireplace waiting for a galloping adventure. I was also able to find two versions of vintage "Thumbelina" Little Golden Books that occupy a special place in my bedroom bookcase. My bedroom has become my inner sanctum; full of faeries, trees with lights and a beautiful chandelier of little lights made by my childhood BFF Lisa. It's a safe place of soothing water fountains, seashells, mossy terrariums and my daughters beautiful water colors adorn the wall. I work very hard for it to be childlike and magical. It is my drama free zone..well except for watching The Walking Dead. Sorry, I'm just not willing to give up Daryl Dixon at this point.  At its center is the Granny Bed. I think everyone with FM and Chronic Fatigue needs their special space or time. I know its hard if you have a family to take care of and home responsibilities.Maybe just a bath ritual or an early cup of coffee.  I am alone, so I can be kinda selfish with my time and energy.  Well, I suppose I am not alone..I have my little inner child to nourish and as Dorothy says "there is no place like home". Home is always in your soul.