I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: Life

  • Casa de Canterbury: A Retrospective – Part I, Summer


    Once upon a time on the corner of Canterbury and Manning in a city called Columbia lived a family of two lesbians and their dogs.

    And the family was happy in their home which they called Casa de Canterbury because one of their dogs (The Red Man) spoke fluent Spanish.

    For years and years the old woman Slow and Pretty and their dogs lived in the casa which saw seasons come and go because that is the way seasons act.

    The old woman Slow got slower and slower as her knees rebelled whenever she climbed or came down the 14 steps connecting the first and second levels of the casa. Even Pretty’s younger knees grew so angry with her she had to get a new one in 2016, but that really didn’t help her very much and didn’t help Slow at all.

    And so it became clear to Slow and Pretty they had to leave Casa de Canterbury for…what? new digs. So that is what they are going to do. They are moving west across the Congaree, Saluda and Broad rivers closer to Texas – but not much – to West Columbia, South Carolina, which is not to be confused with where Slow went to high school: West Columbia, Texas. How weird is that? Let’s hope she isn’t confused by this coincidence.

    As the family says goodbye to Casa de Canterbury, they invite you to take a little trip down memory lane with them through a few of the seasons at their casa over the next several posts. Enjoy.

    First day of summer, 2016

    one of Pretty’s bottle trees

    Charly’s first summer at Casa de Canterbury

    First figs of the season

    also possibly the last – the tree was never prolific

    Summer flowers

     

    a rose is a rose is a rose…by any other name

    Charly listens to the sounds of summer

    perfect place to cool off in summer heat

    so, so hot out there 

    (summer, 2012)

    did somebody say HOT?

    back yard in the summer of 2012

    tres amigos brave the heat

    Stay tuned for fall. Summer, fall, winter, spring.

  • My International Women’s Day


    I wrote this piece on March 08, 2017 and feel it’s worthy of inclusion in my Women’s History Month this year. I hope you agree.

    Spring, 2017 will be the year I move on to my 71st birthday. I know, I know…unbelievable…and apparently my Mouth Almighty, Tongue Everlasting in my seventies shows no sign of a slowdown – if anything I seem to have gained speed with my posts following the not-too-distant sixties.

    As I looked over the more than 80 posts I’ve made since April, 2016 when I began this year by talking about the need for a personal tune-up, I am amazed at how many opinions I’ve had on such a wide variety of topics. Geez Louise. Somebody stop me. I can’t shut up. Case in point, read on.

    Change is in the air at Casa de Canterbury this spring, and Pretty and I are excited about our trip to New Orleans for the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival March 24th. – 26th. I’ve been invited to participate on a panel called Home is Where the Art Is, or is it?  Plus I will do a reading from my short story that will be included in their 2017 anthology. I’m super thrilled.

    We’re hoping to go to Dallas the following week for the NCAA Women’s Final Four the first weekend in April which would give us an opportunity to return to Worsham Street for a long overdue visit with The Little Women of Worsham and the Fabulous Huss Brothers. That would be icing on the proverbial cake. (Michael Reames, are you making me a real birthday cake this year? Money is no object. Pretty will contact you.)

    Today I was cleaning out my extensive collection of family memorabilia which always reminds me of my need to let these pictures and items go – just let them go. They take up space needed for…what? Office supplies. Packing materials. Unsold books. Carolina Panthers commemorative coins. Five years of tax returns. Old cameras.

    This is one of the pictures I found –  I totally lost it when I saw the image of these two significant women in my life before their respective illnesses took them to a different place.

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    My two moms, Selma and Willie, and me

    This picture was taken in 2007 during a visit with my mothers for both of their birthdays in March of that year. Five years later in the spring of 2012, Willie died on April 14th. and Selma followed her eleven days afterwards on the 25th. Wham, bam…gone. Were they ready to go? Of course. Had they suffered long enough? Surely. But the loss of two women who had such monumental influence in my life was devastating. I felt like my connection to what had been my home was broken and couldn’t be fixed.

    In reality and from the perspective of five years down the road from that awful place, the connection to home and family isn’t really lost. Powerful images of the people in my past live on today and remind me of what is most important for the future.

    Today is International Women’s Day, a special time to honor the women we cherish, a day of reminder that our world would be very different without the women in our lives; it’s a woman’s day away from the ordinary.We are lucky because they’ll only be gone for one day and will be back with us tomorrow.

    Pretty, the adventure continues, and I thank you for the home we share and the knowledge that you’ll be here tomorrow morning when we start another day together.

    For the rest of my women friends and followers in cyberspace, celebrate yourselves today. You are enough.

     

     

     

  • Mouth Almighty, Tongue Everlasting!


    562 people who like “Sheila Morris, Author” haven’t heard from you in a while. Write a post.

    Alrighty then. This is the first time a Social Media Monitor has scolded me about too few posts so I am jumping right on it.

    Let me begin by apologizing to the 562 people who like me on my Facebook Author page, and I will add my apologies to my 706 FB friends on my personal page who apparently have no advocate and my special apologies to the 18 followers I have within that 706 friends.

    I imagine there is some overlap in these numbers since I don’t have 1,268 people that give a tinker’s damn about me to be either a friend or follower or page liker. Regardless, the Social Media Monitor has now given me an “F” for failure to post, and I have always been an overachiever so this makes me feel very bad.

    I’ve had a few mitigating circumstances this week which should count as excuses for not writing a post, but they are quite lengthy and convoluted and, in the end, probably add up to be no more viable than the dog ate my homework. Sigh.

    Hey, wait a minute. I just checked the date of my last post, and it was on the 20th. of February. If I’m not mistaken, today is only the 25th.? So I am being reprimanded for not posting in the past FIVE days?

    Whoa, Nellie.

    Attention, attention, attention Social Media Monitor: you are way too quick to jump me this week…there’s such a thing as too many posts which might lead to my being accused of having a Mouth Almighty, Tongue Everlasting which is my new favorite saying that I learned from my good friend Kati last night while I was losing money playing Shanghai.

    I see this phrase re-appearing in future posts – I can think of a prominent person at this very minute whose Tweets represent a Mouth Almighty and a Tongue Everlasting. This should be fun.

    Stay tuned, and have a fabulous weekend!

     

     

     

     

  • I don’t want another dog or another husband


     

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    My mother Selma (left) and my Aunt Lucille

    in their younger days

    My mom was relatively infamous in our family for her conversations which she uttered more like pronouncements than regular chit-chat. You know, the kind of awkward things that made everyone uncomfortable, and I do mean everyone because her speaking voice was louder than most. She had no indoor voice.

    For example, “I wish all those gay people would go back in the closet. I’d slam the door on them myself,” was a personal favorite she occasionally pulled out of abstract thin air with absolutely no relevance to what anyone else was saying. Since all my family members recognized I was a lesbian except her, that tended to be a real deal-breaker for further small talk. People coughed or mumbled something inane as they melted away from her at family gatherings. My dad’s sister Lucille could handle my mother better than anyone with just a quiet, “Now, Selma…”

    As the years went by, my mother developed more mantras that became her touchstones which I now realize she needed in her life of quiet desperation as she slipped away from herself behind the barricade of dementia that must have made her so afraid.

    “I don’t want another dog or another husband,” was one of her select quotes in the years after her second husband died of leukemia. She did have many dogs in her 85 years – but she had been no Elizabeth Taylor husband collector – only two for her.

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    Mom and her last dog Alex

    Perhaps the mantra that affected me most – even more than her preference for gay people in the closet – was, “I am never lonely, and I am never bored.” This was truly an alternative fact for her because, of course, she was both.

    My maternal grandmother had been plagued with depression in the 1960s, and my mom had been responsible for managing her treatment options. I was a teenager at the time, but I have vivid memories of my mother’s carrying my grandmother to an array of doctors, clinics and hospitals before finally bringing her home to live with my parents. Mental illness in the 1960s wasn’t pretty or easy to deal with.

    Apparently some doctor somewhere told Mom her mother needed more to do since she wasn’t working anymore. Mom tried to interest her in countless books, recipes, puzzles and finally gave her a needlepoint sewing kit to make an elaborate tablecloth and 8 napkins which, as I recall, she ended up finishing herself when my grandmother was unable to concentrate on it.

    “I am never lonely, and I am never bored,” was Mom’s final defense against an enemy she didn’t know she had and one which may or may not have had any connection to the enemy which stalked my grandmother. I’ll never know for sure because she forgot all of her mantras in the last four years I was with her – even the one about where the gay people belonged.

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  • Despite Countless Warnings, I…


    …browsed through the AOL news this morning. I know, I know. My friend Dick Hubbard is shaking his head in dismay if he is reading this right now. “Please don’t read the AOL news,” he’s warned me over and over again. “You’ll be sorry.”

    Ha, ha, ha, said I to myself. What could happen on a Sunday morning that would either (a) bewilder me (b) mildly annoy me or (c) raise the level of my blood pressure which has been WAY too high recently. Thank goodness for my wellness exam that uncovered my old friend Hypertension who my doctor reminded me was the Silent Killer. More meds, please. Thank you very much.

    When I have distractions like the Australian Open for two weeks or the current Gamecock men’s and women’s basketball season or the Gilmore Girls original series on Netflix with Pretty every night or my cyberspace Words with Friends, Yushino and Word Bubbles or God forbid, I actually read a book or even more unlikely, work on my new short story which has so many threads I can’t figure out how to put Humpty Dumpty together again or who shot who which for a mystery is troubling – I really have no time to read the AOL news.

    Today, as I was hopelessly bored while I waited for Pretty to get up and get dressed for our brunch with Pretty Too and Pretty Too+ later this morning, I mistakenly read a few stories in the news and found a few that piqued my interest and, sadly, fit my categories. Sigh.

    (a) Bewildering – HGTV Flip or Flop stars Christina El Moussa and Tarek El Moussa who are apparently in the process of a divorce were together at an investment seminar in Las Vegas.

    This was bewildering to me since the only reason I even know who these people are is because I watch them at my orthopedist’s office for the two hours I wait to see him but I had no idea they were getting a divorce. I also never know whether to flip or flop.

    (a-1) More and more Texans are doing “doomsday digging” – the survivalist bunker business is booming these days. Seriously? The mind races with underground shelters fighting for territory with moles that are frantically fleeing to Mexico.

    (b) Truly annoying – Kellyanne Conway has hired a chief of staff. I really don’t know what to think about that and the fact that my tax dollars are paying for her to have a chief of staff. What good can come of this? Hm…perhaps the chief of staff can help to connect her mouth to her brain which would be a monumental achievement. I heard Ivanka Trump will be designing the wardrobe for Kellyanne’s new hire.

    (b-1) The foods for a better sex life are, unfortunately, not in my basic food groups; sugar, the WORST food in the world to eat if you want any kind of good health, IS, unfortunately, my basic food group.

    (c) The Trump cabinet and its $1 trillion-dollar connection to Exxon – now that raises my blood pressure, I’m sure.

    Enough of this. Pretty is up and ready to go to brunch, thank goodness. And tomorrow the Lady Gamecocks play the number one team in the nation, UCONN.  I will avoid the news like the plague this week and faithfully take my lisinopril every day. Can’t say the same about avoiding sugar.

    Oh, well. You can’t have everything.

    Stay tuned.