I saw my mother today. In my mirror. Staring back at me. This surprised me. She was not in my house. It has happened. I have become my mother.
Wait a minute. FINALLY! I FINALLY look like my mother! I have always thought she was a beautful woman. I've never thought that I was beautiful though. Don't go psycho-analyzing me yet. I was overweight as a teenager. Of all the times to be overweight - those dreaded teenage years. I knew that I was not beautiful. BUT I also knew that I was NOT dog ugly. Okay. I'm from northeast Texas and that's a Texism...well, I think the real term is "butt ugly," but I wasn't that either. I also knew that I was not beat with an ugly stick. My mama did not have to tie a bone around my neck when I was a kid so that the dog would play with me.
I just wasn't beautiful. Then I went on a diet. Married. Lost more weight. Tanned to a beautiful bronze. Dark brown straight hair hanging down to my waist. At a horse auction, I was at the concession stand getting a coke - you know, a Dr. Pepper - when I overheard in men's voices... "I think she's pretty." "Yeah. I do too." I never looked around. But on my way back to the building, I didn't see a single woman. Just me. Two men thought I was pretty. Well, three counting my husband but he's supposed to think that. Oh, wait. Four. Daddy.
I'm still not Raquel Welch gorgeous. Or Sophia Loren drop-dead gorgeous. My eyelids are droopy and are getting more so each and every year. My teeth are discolored from fluorosis and are crooked. But I am pretty. My hair is still dark brown and now that it is shorter I find that it is a tiny bit wavy. As long as I stay away from the sunroof in a car, the few gray hairs that I have do not look like a fiber-optic lamp. I am an optimist - my glass is always at least half full - and I almost always smile. I think and hope and pray that I am a nice person.
What led up to this...I knitted my first skull cap and was trying to get a photo of it. If you haven't tried turning the camera on yourself or attempted to take your picture in the mirror. GO TRY IT. It ain't easy! I took a pic...laughed...took another...laughed...took another...oh, there's Mama! I bet I took eight or ten photos. The pattern came from a very talented young lady: http://kodymayknits.blogspot.com/2006/11/bead-my-skull-cap.html
Finally decided to hang the cap on a lamp.
Oh, and here's the lamp. Isn't it a pretty?! The first Christmas after Jonathan's daddy died, that 12-year old boy (he turned 13 two days after Christmas) spent ALL of his Christmas and birthday money on me. I cried.
I collect Fenton Burmese. My mother was a Fenton dealer - hence the reason I could afford it to start with. I fussed at Mama for letting Jonathan spend all of his money. She said that she tried to talk him out of it - but, "He wanted to."