Morning tree shadows on the blinds in my room at my mother's house. As I had hoped, I got up and out of my own house yesterday, went to Mass at 8, and leaving there at 8:45, kept driving west. I rolled into Memphis around 5, had dinner with my mother and brother, and spent a quiet evening holed up in my room to avoid a lot of loud political television.
This morning I got up, washed my hair, and had coffee and cottage cheese with blueberries. We'll leave here around 11, I imagine, for the hour's drive to Humboldt, Tennessee, and the funeral. Again I have cause to be thankful that I bought a black dress this year . . . it's come in very handy, and I will be glad, on a hot day, to be wearing linen.
Next weekend is the diocesan Eucharistic Congress, for which I'll have to wear concert black for choir, so I'm sure I will be congratulating myself yet again on having broken my NO DRESSES rule for 2024. Of course, I've broken it twice now . . . but that's what rules are for, right?
Anyway, the plan is to go to the funeral, do whatever visiting afterward that we want to do, then come back here. In the evening, after supper, I'm going to have a glass of wine with my mother-in-law --- I called her from the road to tell her I was coming, but proposed a visit over a glass of wine so that she wouldn't feel she had to feed me a whole meal. I'm looking forward to that, because she's a lot of fun. I'd love to be 93 the way she is 93: a little slower and frailer, maybe, but basically the same as she's always been, in the 35 years of our acquaintance. My husband is an adoptee, so nobody has inherited those genes --- alas. They seem like fairly good genes to have.
The Artgirl and her friend Fiona are on the road from San Diego to Dallas, having made a detour to Sedona and Flagstaff, Arizona, to see the Grand Canyon. The Artgirl declares that she's moving to Flagstaff, and honestly . . . I wouldn't blame her. One could do a lot worse. It's beautiful there, and pretty arty as well. She has been my Smoky Mountain darling, but she could just as readily become a Girl of the Southwest.
If you follow the Texasgirl on Instagram, she has a lovely bit of visible mending up in her stories today. I'm hoping to nail down a time soon to go and visit that little house and all its inmates, human, canine, feline, and --- chicken. Well, I don't care that much about visiting the chickens, to whom I have no particular personal attachment, but they are there to be visited. Not sure when I can get there, as the fall is already filling up with stuff that needs doing. A lot depends on who's living there, too --- all summer there have been four adults resident in that quite-small house, and while I know that one of those adults is moving out this weekend, I'm not quite sure when the other one departs, and I'd like to give the actual homeowners a little break before I descend on them. So it might be November before I can get there. That wouldn't be bad, actually, from a weather standpoint. We shall see.
Iiiiinnnnnnn the meeeeeeaaaaaantime, here I am in Memphis, where, as you may recall, I was just three weeks ago. It's good, honestly, to have to check in with the mothers in person with a little more frequency, and I should really plan this into my schedule instead of waiting for funerals. I come several times a year, but as people get older, I think I should really be doing this more often. Last time, the Artgirl and I flew here and back, but I am not doing that again, ever, if I can possibly avoid it. Give me driving over hours in airports any day of the week. I made it here in roughly 8 hours --- I guess if I paid big bucks for direct flights I'd get here faster and more efficiently, but I am not going to pay big bucks for direct flights. This trip is two tanks of gas each way, plus a sandwich or some Cliff Bars and a Starbucks mocha Double Shot. Cheaper than plane tickets, thank you very much, not to mention far more enjoyable (AND I get something to eat besides pretzels).
So we'll do this funeral today, and then --- again, God willing and no emergencies arise, which one can never ever take for granted --- I plan to get up and go home first thing tomorrow. I'll miss Br. James's ordination, which again I'm very sad about, but want to be there for what I presume will be his first Mass on Sunday. And I think that if I can make these short, sharp, targeted visits, I'll be more likely to do them more often. It's the take-five-days business that gets old and disruptive really fast. If I'm going on to Dallas, then that makes sense --- usually that's a matter of a week, at least. Can't do that all the time. But maybe I can start doing three days --- one day driving, one day here, one day driving home --- and getting various of the progeny to fly here to meet me. Thanks to the vagaries of his work schedule, the Fire Son hasn't seen my mother-in-law in over two years. I really need to get him on board with a plan like this. One starts to consider the shortness of the time we have with people, and length of the rest of our lives spent regretting that in our blithe youthful thoughtlessness, we didn't go to see them when we could have. I have those regrets, and I'd really love to save my children from having them --- which apparently entails my thinking about how to make it all happen.
Hair notes:
I haven't had any sulfate shampoo at home in a while, but there's been a big bottle of Suave in the shower here for probably the last three years. I tend to use it when I'm here for a quick clarifying treatment, just removing any buildup from my scalp and hair. I lathered with that, rinsed, and followed it with my usual "Soothing Hydration" Head&Shoulders Bare shampoo, to keep my scalp happy.
Then, soaking my hair thoroughly again, I worked in about 4 quick pumps of LUS 3-in-1: more than I usually use, but I knew I was going to be soaking my hair yet again, once I finished shaving my legs and washing the rest of my body.
And indeed, having combed out my hair with a wide-toothed comb to detangle and distribute the 3-in-1, I then did re-soak my hair and work in a ping-pong-ball-sized amount of Not Your Mother's Curl Talk foam. While my hair was still dripping wet, I brushed this through and then brushed out sections of hair (probably about 3 inches wide) and shook them to get the curl/wave clumps to form.
Scrunched to remove water. Got out of the shower, patted my hair with the towel (I forgot my microfiber towel, so used a regular one very carefully), put on some clothes and went to have breakfast. Let my hair air-dry for about an hour.
Diffused it the rest of the way dry in two stages, giving it a chance to rest and air-dry while I read, answered emails, etc.
Here it is now, not yet combed out or pulled back --- I will probably pull the front back in a small claw clip for the funeral.
I have a number of real spiral curls happening here, though already my hair has relaxed a lot. I love the soft definition I get by just using a foam, but it doesn't always last. I will probably find myself wilting in the humid heat by this afternoon.
Also, I forgot to pack a nightdress, so slept in the dress I wore yesterday and appreciated its comfort and versatility. Noting as well how much I like this color, especially as I am about to wear Not My Best Color At All.
For comparison:
Could be worse. I've looked chalkier in this exact outfit.
Wearing today (the whole outfit):
*Secondhand Eileen Fisher linen dress, bought April 2024, last worn May 29 for the new bishop's ordination
*Secondhand Loft silk-linen cardigan, bought April 2024, also last worn May 29
*Very old silk scarf, given to me by my mother, last worn in the winter sometime. Adds some color and pattern and lightness to this otherwise totally dark monochrome outfit.
*Secondhand Alegria Mary Janes, bought August 2024, last worn August 8
Nothing about this outfit is really a favorite, but for a must-needs ensemble, I like it fine. My shoes, especially, are a hit for me, not so much because of how they look (although I think they're cute) as how they feel on my feet. I could happily walk ten miles in this outfit.
And now my mother is making sandwiches for the road (this is an hour's drive, reader . . . I was not really afraid of fainting on the way) and hurrying me along, even though we don't have to be there till noon, and it's just now 10:15.
Anyway. Off we go soon enough. I hope we don't beat the whole cortege to the church, but at the rate we're moving, that's a distinct possibility.