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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Thoughts of Green

Iowa feels like a jungle -- overgrown with juicy green vegetation, and air so thick with humidity I think I could reach out, grab a low-lying cloud and squeeze enough out of it to fill a bathtub.

Clothes are limp, the blacktopped roads steam in the early morning haze of moisture pregnant air that hovers over us. It is a time to rejoice if you have certain types of hair, and a time to hide if you don't.
Odors further add to the density. Walk by a garbage can and you'll wish you hadn't. But the mint. Oooh, the mint. This is my first year to actually have some growing in my almost garden.

My on-again, off-again best elementary friend had parents who were a bit older than my parents, a bit more on the worldly side and a little more free-flowing with walking around money. They also owned things like cocktail glasses and ice buckets and a membership to the country club. It was like visiting an foreign locale when I hung out with my friend. In my house, I was the oldest of two younger brothers, my friend the youngest of three indulgent brothers. We didn't have dogs, they did. Her mother even talked us into a manners class so we could pick up tips on behaving like ladies.

But I digress.

One of my most powerful memories of time spent with them is mint iced tea. Really. Her mom would brew up sun tea packed with mint leaves and it tasted a little bit like heaven. Turns out my mom has always had a patch of mint in her garden, she just doesn't brew mint sun tea.

Mom sent a flowerpot of mint home with me a few weeks ago, and, well, a week later, my daughter-in-law scored some for me, too. When it rains it pours. And certain rain just tastes a little sweeter.