My Mom is a Biker-Chick…

Maude on her Hog
Maude on her Hog
Photo copyright either My Brother the Trespasser or My Sister Tootie
(Maude can’t remember who was standing behind the camera…)

I drove down to Teeny-Tiny Town today, having had no sleep since… well, I’m not certain when, but I’ve been writing – really writing – for real writing, so No Sleep Disease isn’t exactly a bad thing. This time.

On the way down, I saw a small plane tipped over on the four-lane median strip, surrounded by a single fire truck and a couple of cop cars. I thought I might be hallucinating at first, but then remembered that if that was the case, my imagination would have turned it into an airliner. I ought maybe check the news to be certain (I assume a plane landing on the highway might be considered news around here, anyway), but I think it’s safe to say I actually saw what I think I saw.

I think.

Lemme check…

….

….

Yup. It’s good to know I’m not completely nuts. Ahem…*

When I got to Teeny-Tiny Town, though, and saw that photo of my mother in leathers on a motorcycle… well…. that was something I was pretty certain was all in my own mind.

Until she started to laugh, and told me the story…

Seems My Brother the Trespasser (or maybe it was a nephew – I’ve had no sleep, and my mom can’t remember…) bought himself a new ride this past spring, and went down to show it off to my mom and my sister, who were both suitably impressed. Mom was so impressed, in fact, that she told one of the aides in the Nursing Home that it was her hog.

I don’t know why, but the aide didn’t believe her!

Mom said she would prove it, and got the Trespasser/Nephew/Whoever to fit her up, put her on the bike to pose, and then had [somebody] get a couple of copies of this pic printed up. The aide displays her copy on her fridge at home. I stole the other copy, to show you all how cool my mom is…

Look real close now… she’s not pointing at you. She’s giving you the finger (yeah, yeah, she’s flipping the bird backwards – give the ol’ lady a break – she’s 85).

Dad-gravestone-before-mom-diedWe had a visit to the graveyard (my dad’s monument is finally in place – his boat, sailing off into the sunset lasered into it somehow – he would have been right impressed, I think – and it’s an odd kind of comfort to see that boat on there, sailing away…), and went out for lunch before I sneaked off back home, pilfered photo safely tucked away.

On the way back, I saw an upside down tractor-trailer in the ditch, which my brain turned into a crash-landed Borg ship for a minute. The lack of armed militia tipped me back into the real world soon enough, but not before a whole ‘nother story clicked into place, waiting for me to start writing when the current project is put to bed.

Which is where I’ll be going… once I’ve pecked out a few more scenes.

Random Song-for-the-Day: “Graceland” – Paul Simon

Almost Perfect…

Yeah, yeah, if it was all perfect what would I have to look forward to, blah, blah, blah. I wish I could remember the actual quote for that – it was killer.

BUT, regardless, it really was an almost perfect day. And the one disappointment isn’t getting me down much, because it may yet happen, and if not today, then tomorrow. ‘Cuz I wants it.

Matthew Mansel Falls & Eleanor Maude (Van Every) FallsJuly 28, 1948Meldrum Bay, Manitoulin Island, Ontario
Matthew Mansel Falls & Eleanor Maude (Van Every) Falls
July 28, 1948
Meldrum Bay, Manitoulin Island, Ontario

Today is my parents’ 59th Wedding Anniversary. FIFTY-NINE!!!!! Holy ol’ shit, Bloggosphere! My brother and sister-in-law (the Barber-Falls actor/director/producer/musician type people. Yes! Those famous ones!) took us all for a drive over hell’s half-acre and God’s green earth – we didn’t exactly get lost, but I don’t think we knew where we actually were most of the time – and poor unsociable, hermitaged, non-people-loving Me had a wonderful time. Me, who’da thunk?!

We ended up out for dinner at Trout Lake Resort where I ate an incredible white fish dinner (and a beer; can’t forget the beer – in public I drank a beer!) where we asked Mom and Dad how they got engaged.

Father: She called me on the phone and said she was coming on the train and to meet her at the station and that we were getting married.

Mother: I did not!

Father: Yes she did. She was desperate.

Aubrey: Were you desperate, Ma?

Mother: I must have been, I guess.

Me: So, how’d it really happen?

Mother/Father: I’m not telling you.

My sister (Tootie, of last July’s Caught Smokin’ video, for those of you that remember when I had a real blog) and her husband weren’t present for this celebration because of a trip to Manitoba to attend the nuptials of my Un-Brother, Ken, who somehow convinced his lovely companion that she should make an honest man out of him (she must be desperate), and who discovered the one romantic bone in his body (no, not that one, you pigs) and decided that he could only marry on the anniversary of his parents. And she went for it! She did! Congrats to them both, the foolish, foolish youngsters.

One more sister (Big Sis)was missing, as I think she may be up a tree somewhere in Southern Ontario. It’s okay, though – it’s her tree.

On the ride home, we popped into my cousin Carl’s driveway to get tasted by large dogs and learn how to get rid of unwanted Jehovah’s Witnesses. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long, long time.

As we unlocked the door, a tired Kyla, all “peopled-out”, sent me off to Ruby’s for coffee, crosswords, and more laughter.

I came home to my small, but soon to be remedied (wish hard) disappointment, but at least I have good things to write about. And I didn’t snark at anybody all. day.

Yup. An almost perfect day. It’s all good.

Random Song for the Day: “Walkin’ on Sunshine” – Katrina and the Waves