Monkey Mom

This week’s activities included a pre-Mother’s Day tea at a 105 year-old chapel. This historic Cloverdale Meeting House is currently available as a beautiful site for weddings and other social gatherings. In our event, friends congregated to sell wares, sip exotic rose milk, nosh on handmade chocolate and exchange bits of old fashioned gossip. Wanna hear some?

Let’s see…God’s Minion just became a grandmother for the second time (Congratulations!), Kimmmm’s husband is being presented with the Ashden Award for Sustainability (Way to go!), Bo Peep was commissioned by said husband to create a top hat to be worn for his audience with Prince Charles (Yeah, Baby!), Sister was bit bad by a dog (Ouch! Sorry, honey), Chakra Girl is learning to Salsa (move those hips, darlin’), cousin Mary designed us kimono’s from material brought back from Japan (Thank you!) and I overheard a musical friend talk about her “glory hole.”

Conversation was brought to a halt with that one. Huh? Upon further explanation, we learned that a glory hole is a warm place where something hard is put to melt. Yeah, that didn’t really clear things up too much. There might have been something about glass blowing in there as well.

Which brings me to this week’s spelling mishap. I’ve already mentioned Brande Roderick’s flexible use of the American language (remember “forgooed?”), but I think she may have been eliminated from the competition by pulling a Dan Quayle. While expressing frustration, Brande tried to spell crap and came out with “s-r-a-p.”

To rap, er, wrap this up, I’m pretty tired and don’t have the energy to share my windy lesson on intention and resistance. I’d rather snuggle up with Companion and watch “Project Runway,” dish on girls behaving badly (Ms. Joan and Melissa “Oh grow up” Rivers), contemplate who’d make the better, ahem, “coffee” date, the character Patrick Jane on The Mentalist or Detective Sam Tyler from Life on Mars.

I want a full body massage, to be fed chocolate, to sleep for awhile, to have toe-curling “coffee,” and not have to be anywhere or do anything or process information or learn any lessons or be challenged for a little while. Yes, I want to indulge in mindless television without losing brain cells and eat junk food without gaining weight.

On that indulgent note, I’d like to wish all the women out there a Happy Mother’s Day! Whether you diaper a goat (you know who you are), nurse a cat, pamper a dog, or have a human animal, it all counts. We nurture the earth, each other, our men, our creativity, our bodies, our businesses, our minds, our pocket books, our homes, our parents and hopefully, ourselves.

Speaking of moms, I was on the phone last night with Sister, checking on her wounded finger, when she told me this story about our mother that she’d just heard. After the telling, we argued as sisters are wont to do. “No way, that’s not true.”

“Oh, yes it is, go call and ask her yourself.”

“Fine, I will,” etc. etc.

I hung up with Sister and dialed Mother. Okay, more accurately, there was no dialing involved using a cell phone, but it doesn’t sound right to say “I hung up with Sister and punched Mother.”

“Mom, is it true?”

She verified that it was indeed.

“How come I’ve never heard this story before?”

Mom’s reply is so casual, “I don’t know, it didn’t last very long.”

“Tell me what happened!”

“I took Eldest child to the doctor and was holding her in my arms at the check in counter when I felt something tug at my leg. Naturally, I thought it was one of the other kids in the waiting room, but then the sensations dramatically changed and I turned my head just in time to see a monkey climb up my body.”

“A monkey? A real monkey? Are you sure it just wasn’t Sister as a toddler, she was so hairy and cute, you know, or another kid?”

“Oh no, this was way before you or Sister was born. It was a real monkey and all I could think was that it was going for my child.”

“What did you do?

“Oh, I don’t know, I think the woman it belonged to came and got it or something.”

“A monkey is climbing you and you don’t remember what happened?”

“It was a long time ago.”

Yep, that’s my mom, cool under pressure, doesn’t fuss much. If only I could get her to say in an Australian accent, “The monkey took my bay-bay.” Oh never mind. Love you mom.

As Mother’s Day is just around the corner, I’d like to leave you with a quote from the estimable Dan Quayle. “Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child.”

Oh, glory hole!