Scars

It’s often we wear them as a badge of honour. Most certainly there’s usually a story attached, and unfortunately there’s almost always pain involved. I’ve got one about an inch wide and four inches long down the front centre of my left shin. This was from a swimming accident in my twelfth summer. A gash above my left eye directly perpendicular to my eyebrow needed stitches when I was five after attempting a seemingly death defying stunt my eleven year old sister could easily master. Me, not so much, as all I inherited was a permanent reminder of my stumble. When the movie Lion King was released, I was a bit intrigued, empowered, proud and at times embarrassed that the villain portrayed the same feature as I and was in fact even named for his trait. On the same token; while I like the name Scarlet, especially for a natural redhead, I could never surrender to actually officially giving a daughter this name; the short form is just too horrendous. Unless of course she is destined to be a street drug Lordess or something, but let’s not pre-plan anyone’s vocation here. Isn’t there a place in New York or somewhere called Scarsdale? That don’t sound pretty at all, you gotta admit. A recent chat with a colleague of mine prompted her to tell me a story involving a kitchen gadget, her fine prowess as a pseudo in-store product demonstrator and the succumbing demise of her ring and pinky fingers wrapped in very thick gauze. The purchase of this new gizmo called ‘the mandolin’ (which I might add does sound either malice like in its weaponry-esque tone or comes from a musical instrument origin, I can’t quite remember) or something of the sort that slices veggies julienne style, and in thin/thick slices, etc. prompted our dare devil bright star to destruct a cucumber sans the safety device suggested. Well, bubye layers and layers of skin including a hefty amount of finger nail. Now that’ll leave a mark. Upon suggesting she’ll likely be featured in a portion of this blog, she was quite excited I might add. It terrifies me greatly to envision the effects that burns leave on their victims. I have a hard time seeing it in real life, on film or in pictures. Psychics have told me I died in past lives in a fire; this makes sense. Tattoos to cover the after effects of mastectomy’s…brilliant. Marvelous technology that allows for laparoscopic surgery so as to avoid zipper like etchings on our skin, fab! Testosterone driven tales that include trophies boasting of milestones or rights of passage…whatever lifts your luggage. Whichever the case may be, whether it's scabs picked from chicken pox or a baby safe and healthy after an emergency c-section, the scars we gather throughout life are all part of our unique packaging. Be safe.

Toodles

What I've Learned From My Mother

When observing animals in the wild we often see that the mothers lead by example when teaching their young. It's judgement triggered by instinct and quite naturally, an ultimate goal of seeing their offspring safe and strong into adulthood. My own mother is a good woman. Honest, uncomplicated and in a middle class, church going, family value instilling kinda way - normal. Sure, she may use profanity upon stubbing a toe, or tend to have a lead foot while driving and can get away with it, even tell a white lie here and there to ensure feelings are hurt as little as possible - but that's all normal one would surely agree. What I would like to share are a few things I can recall that I have learned from my mother: mostly clever, unorthodox or truly laughable (all in a good way). When I was a boy Mum always made clear to me that I must look out for myself. If anyone ever tried to start a fight with me that included a hit, punch, scrap - whatever; I MUST hit back! Don't worry about getting in trouble by the adults in charge; just hit back! Luckily I can say that between my size, gentle manor and good sense I have never in my life been in this situation - but it was good to know she had given the green light in advance. None of this 'turn the other cheek' garbage. At the same time she has always said that in a 'sticks & stones' kinda way, it's okay if you're being talked about negatively; blatant or behind backs, as this at least is keeping the attention off someone else who may not be able to handle it otherwise. If they're talking about you, they're leaving someone else alone. Whether it be happenstance or not, I have learned from her that there is no other relationship like that of which you will have with a sister. We both have great bonds with ours, and should consider ourselves lucky - to have the opportunity and to be proud that we can keep them this way. Mum loves the highway. She will almost go out of the way to be on one - a single exit on the freeway avoids many a stop-light! Nail polish remover can solve the desired disappearance of ANYTHING! If it's sticky, stubborn and/or unwanted - not to worry; she's got the liquid cure! At the same time; vinegar must ALWAYS be applied to the entire surface of a fast food restaurants table prior to dining. Vinegar stands a shy second to nail polish remover on the Olympic podium of cleaning agents in Mum's book. These are just a handful that I am recalling just now to have taken in over my 30 years. Of course there are hundreds more, and almost as many that harmlessly annoy the bejeezus out of myself and my family. Regardless, we are fortunate to have these to remember for passing along, or ensuring don't get repeated - whatever the case may be.

Toodles