Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Stuck In The Middle

So this idea got "stuck" in my head the other day but I couldn't get my thoughts together on how to not be a sad post.  Then I posted a question on facebook and a friends answer to me was "I can't wait to read what you write about this one."  BINGO, that started this little mind in motion.  So hang on folks we gonna get a little stuck or hopefully unstuck.

The idea last week started because I'm just feeling stuck in life.  Stuck that I'm not young and 25 but not old either, stuck that I'm a single, white female (as the song says) and no real hope of my cowboy riding to my rescue on a  black stallion.   Stuck in my head with wishing that I should have done this or done that, stuck in  that I don't have all that others have .  Stuck in my head that if I had only tried harder or made better choices  my life would be different.  I can answer my own question on that one, because y'all that have been following me know I've made plenty of wrong choices.

So how in the world do I get "unstuck."  I've had plenty of  professional training as I like to call it, but all that training in the world doesn't help if you don't practice what you learn.  Sometimes it takes me a time or two to get my head wrapped around all this stuff stuck in this beautiful head of mine, and I usually can get it after at least the third try.  But this time it's really stuck in there and it just keeps playing over and over in my head like a washing machine going round and round.  So this is where the hard core professional training steps in.

I remember my trainer telling me about the three C's.  Don't criticize, condemn or complain.  Well hells bells, all three of those have taken over my brain like some virus or something.    Those three little words (and I ain't talking about I Love YOU) are stuck up in this head like a bad dream.  So now "what you gonna do when they come for you."

First off ain't nobody going any where and secondly I got this!  I've just been on a little pity party but my feisty little self is leaving this party of one.   Ya'll know I love social media and today I read a post that said "the comparison game is one you'll always lose.  Celebrate who you are and what you have, rather than fixating on who you're not and what you lack.  You are enough and you have plenty to offer but you'll never see it if you're busy looking at everyone else."  (Ruth from twitter) good is that.  I think it was a God wink as I like to call it and he knew I needed that assurance today that  I am good enough and unique and he's got me.

WOW this is getting way longer than I thought, but y'all know I have to add a little silly so here you go.  The second part of the story about being stuck is doctor's giving you pills big as Texas when you have strep and can't even swallow water.  Well you figured it out already, one got stuck in  my throat this afternoon and I couldn't get it to go up or down.  I ate everything in the house and I'm still not sure it's made it to my stomach yet..  I mean how could it, my throat is swollen almost shut.  Oh well, if tomorrow never comes, at least I took my meds.  Heck fire I hope my throat is better before I have to take the next horse pill or  I may be calling 9-1-1 what's your emergency 'cause I can't breath, something's stuck.

LESSON TODAY:  This one might be easier than some.  Don't get stuck with bad thoughts in your head.  Don't let what other's have or worry about what you don't have.  Be thankful for what you do have..  I mean God probably has that cowboy on a dusty trail somewhere trying to get here or if  I'm lucky he'll be a millionaire in a white limo instead.  So with all that being said... I will end with Ruth from twitter's response to me  "Sometimes you've got to have a little pity party before you can come through on the other side, stronger and ready to appreciate yourself for all the wonderful qualities you have."  That, from a women I don't even know.  So for me, I'm dusting myself off,  putting on my favorite pair of boots and leaving this pity train.  Now if something I've written hits home, leave the pity party.  Might not be easy but you can do it.

 Sweet Southern Sass

Friday, October 19, 2018

If You're Going Through Hell

"If you're going through hell, keep on going, don't slow down. If you're scared, don't show it, you might get out before the devil even knows it." Rodney Atkins

The idea for this post came to mind this morning as I was thinking about the conversation my Aunt and me had last night. We went shopping for outfits to wear to my nieces wedding next month and on the way there and back we talked a little about a lot.  Sometimes you really don't need advise, just someone to listen and last night was one of those times for me. You see I've been a little bit down these past few weeks, not for any particular reason, just because. So this song came to mind and I thought...Self, you may be going through hell, but nothing compared to others, so pull yourself up by the boot strings and carry one. So I'm thinking if I start writing and pull tight enough on my boot strings I can get myself out of this crazy sadness and maybe even make myself giggle a little.

The song talks about stepping off the straight and narrow. Y'all that have been following me know I'm the queen of being way out of the straight and narrow. I'm not exactly sure what it means but for the sake of this post I'm thinking it means not behaving.  LOL, I'm never behaving because I heard Jill Connor Browne of the Sweet Potato Queens say that "well behaved women never make history." I  probably ain't gonna make history because I'm not behaving but just let me not behave and all of Hall County knows about it before my head hits the pillow. Yep, my daddy use to know what I had done and where I did it before I even got it done. Of course this was in my younger days, but I still don't know how he knew. Maybe one day I will ask, but then maybe I won't because he might know more than I want to know he knows. Y'all get that?

If you're scared don't show it. I've been scared so many times I can't even count that high. Not because of that road of straight and narrow as I said before but because I have lived by myself more than not. The funny thing is most of the times I just watched Criminal Minds or some detective show that scared the crap out of me to begin with, then when I went to bed I thought every "unsub" Detective Derrick Morgan ever arrested, was outside my window. Turns out the scratching on the window was the wind blowing the tree next to my house and what I thought was someone breaking in my house was the ice maker making ice. Yep, I could scare myself just getting out of bed, seeing my own shadow.

Lesson today? It won't take a rocket scientist to figure this one out. If you're going through hell, don't slow down and let the devil catch you. Don't get caught up in the bottle of Jim Beam, the demons breathing down your back or that deep hole of darkness.  Just take a minute, sit down and listen to the guardian angel that's probably sitting right next to you.  Heck she might be singing this little song telling you to keep on keeping on. If you scared listen to what's making you scared, it's probably the wind blowing or the ice maker and for the love of Peter, Paul and Mary pull your dang boot strings up with a smile on your face and a song in your heart.   

 Sweet Southern Sass

Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Just A Swingin'

Listening to my favorite radio station here in Georgia today I heard the song Just A Swingin by John Anderson.  As I listen to this song, it brought back a whole buncha memories from my childhood and  one more recent than that.  I have no idea  where I'm going with this or what my lesson will be but might as well buckle up buttercup and find out.

Just a swingin' reminds me of growing up and visiting my grandmother.  I can't say for sure, but I think every house they lived had a swing on the front porch.  My Aunt and me loved to get in that swing and swing for hours, solving all the problems two little kids could have.  We always tried to make our feet touch the ceiling of the porch.  When my Mama Highfield would catch us doing it, she would come tell us we better stop that before that swing pulls out and we get hurt.  Of course, being the good children that we were, we would "slow down"  while she was standing there, but that lasted about as long as it took her to walk back in the house.  Two little girls just a swingin' to high heaven.

That brings me to my porch swingin' as an adult.  It was going to be a girls night out to see Merle Haggard in concert at the Lanierland County Music Park in Cumming, Ga.   We were waiting on a couple of the other friends to meet up so me and another friend were swingin' in the front porch swing.  I told friend # 2 what  my Mama Highfield would say... we better stop swingin' so high, we gonna pull this thing right out of the ceiling.  Just about the time these words came out of my mouth, that dadgum swing fell out of the ceiling, friend # 2 AND the swing came right down on my left foot.  Needless to say, I couldn't hardly walk and they wanted me to go to the ER but heck no, I got to see Merle 'cause he's getting old.  I convinced them I wasn't going to the ER, so off to the concert we go.

I made it through the concert and back to the scene of the crime.  Keep in mind I'm in a lot of pain but I ain't going to no ER at 1:00 in the morning or so I thought.  I finally dozed off to sleep and friend # 3, who's house I'm sleeping,  big ole cat comes bouncing in on my bed right on top of my poor hurt foot.  I screamed to the top of my lungs and friend # 3 came running.  Poor cat landed somewhere in the next room I think.  Needless to say I finally gave in and friend # 3 took me to the ER.  The nurse kept moving my foot around and of course every time he did I would scream in pain.  After what seemed like forever I guess he got tired of me complaining he was killing me, he said and I quote, "you sure are a whiner."   Y'all that know me know that didn't go over very well.  I came unglued and  I politely told him the WHOLE story and how long it had been since that swing and friend # 2 fell on me.  The ER did not diagnose a broke foot so Nurse hurt me all you can sent me home in a lace up shoe which was about as stable as a wobbly wheel with a missing spoke.  So I hobbled around a day or two and finally went to an orthopedic doctor who confirmed my suspicion of a broke foot and put me in a boot for 8 week.   Guess nurse Hurt me all you can wasn't as smart as he thought.

Lesson today?  You may not have these crazy kinda memories of a front porch swing but if you are lucky enough to have a swing, call a friend, swing a spell,  share some stories and have a glass of sweet tea 'cause ya'll know what they say here in the South.  We don't hide crazy...we parade it around on the front porch and give it sweet tea.  Now go ahead swing high to the heavens, laugh out loud and make some memories.  Make my Mama Highfield proud with your feet touching the ceiling.  But don't swing too long 'cause you know what might happen and I really don't want you to meet Nurse hurt me all you can.  LOL

  Love to all,
  Sweet Southern Sass