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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/609199-bring-me-the-blood-of-the-outlanders
Rated: 18+ · Book · Women's · #1268197
Drop by drop the snow pack dies, watering the arid lands below.
#609199 added September 25, 2008 at 8:27am
Restrictions: None
bring me the blood of the outlanders
My response to the Leading Journal entry by MaryLou for September 22, 2008.


All right folks, "Invalid Entry whose mothers do things to aggravate them as well. Mothers do things like that, without realizing that's what their doing. Mothers presume they are helping. I think God every day that my mother, who is 87 is still with me. True she does some rather odd things at times and her self-talk, which she does aloud can be distracting, but that's OK.

Mom is still with me and I'm still her baby. Despite the fact that I'm 61 going on 62 years old and the oldest of the four children she gave birth to. I learn a couple of years ago that she had a miscarriage before me. I learned this year that Mom has been fighting low self-esteem for years.

When my mother gets up each morning she kisses me and gets us coffee. I make the coffee, but she likes to get so who am I to deprive her of something she likes to do. She likes cleaning house, but she isn't as fast at 87 as she was at 78. Since she doesn't want help cleaning house and gets aggravated at me when I try to help I have two choices. First, I can just let her do it at her pace and tell her what a good job she's doing. Second, I can wait until she's asleep and do some of it myself, while telling her what a good job she's doing.

My mother tells me every other day or so, how much I act like my father. This is probably a good thing since it means I'm too damn stubborn to give up. I know my mother loves me despite the fact that she put orange juice in the red pitcher I usually use to fill the coffee maker with water. So I use a glass until the pitcher is empty. Since she can't drink apple juice, the orange juice belongs to her and the pitcher is being used until she finishes the orange juice.

I looked at myself in the mirror one day
and frightened myself
because I realized how much I looked like my mother.

I listened to my self-talk one day
and frightened myself
because I realized how much I sounded like my mother.

© Copyright 2008 Prosperous Snow celebrating (UN: nfdarbe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Prosperous Snow celebrating has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/609199-bring-me-the-blood-of-the-outlanders