Juliet Martinez

Mon, Jun 25 2007

A Rainy Day in Georgia

Paula and I have been in Atlanta for 12 days now, staying with my parents. My parents have a guest room, on whose futon we have slept. Paula is sleeping there now.

Today my sister-in-law Desiree came over and took Paula outside to the swing, then to the library so I could a) get work done, or b) sleep. I chose the second option.

A loud rumble and crack of thunder woke me up and I thought, "I've got to call Desiree and tell her to take Paula's hearing aids off in the rain."

Over the next five minutes of lying in bed I must have told myself that 10 or 20 times. Then Desiree and Paula walked in the front door.

As sheets of water poured down on the brown grass and parched red clay of my parents' yard, cool air came in through the open doors.

I put on the kettle for tea. Desiree saw the boxes of Jell-o on the top of the fridge and gave a little squeal. "Ooh! Let's make Jell-o!"

From then it was Paula standing on the step ladder, stirring the hot red liquid and not letting anyone suggest that she might try keeping it IN the bowl. Then Desiree found the dusty box of brownie mix behind the roll of paper towels, and we turned on the oven.

I got ingredients ready and funnelled them to Desiree - after all, this was her afternoon with Paula. Paula stirred, Desiree decanted into the greased pan, I scraped the batter out of the bowl.

Mom hung out, we talked, she scooted off from time to time to put things away or go get her eye drops and wash out her eyes.

Once the brownies were mixed, poured, adorned with caramel topping and placed skittishly in the oven - Desiree has an inordinate fear of burns, which may explain her general aversion to cooking - we made popcorn. Nutritional yeast was sprinkled liberally on the popcorn, and Oprah was turned on.

This was the rainy afternoon entertainment of three generations of Carson women.

We still haven't eaten the Jell-o. But the brownies, the popcorn, the Oprah; it was all very good.

Posted at:Mon, Jul 02 2007 08:23:01 PM
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Wed, Jun 06 2007

I used to be so much better than this

A friend wrote on her blog about how she used to remember people's birthdays, buy them thoughtful gifts, send out thank-you notes when she got gifts, bake for people, keep a tidy house, pay bills on time, watch all her favorite shows and basically keep everything moving like a well-oiled machine.

Now, after having two kids, one of whom has autism, and taking on the position of family breadwinner, and going through oceans of stress with her job and her kid's diagnosis, she feels it's all slipped away from her.

I used to be so much better than this, she wrote.

I know the feeling.

I remember when I could think about something I wanted to write, compose it in my head and file it away until I got to the computer.

I remember when stories I formulated had a beginning and an end, not just a snippet of a fragment of an idea.

I'm griping, I know, about having a very different life than I once had; having a lot less control over things than I once had, and more things to juggle.

But maybe this will answer, in case anyone is wondering, the question of why I post here so sparsely. Apparently my brain hasn't gotten things together to start writing like I did before. I'm waiting for that to happen as the rest of my life rushes onward.

Posted at:Mon, Jul 02 2007 08:23:01 PM
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