grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Patriotic Toes

By

Tina: You want flag?

Me: Excuse me?

Tina: We do flag.

Me: What? I don’t understand.

Tina: On you toes? You want flag? Red and blue?

Me: Do I want a flag painted on my toes?

Ok by now these people should know I don’t do stars or flowers or smiley faces or anything on my toes. I’m boring.

Tina: We do for Forf of July.

Me: No no no. Just stick to the plain color. No decoration.

Tina looked sad. I hate to disappoint. But not bad enough to have striped toes for my birthday…


About this time a girl came rushing into the salon which instantly cheered them. A new customer! Yippee. Maybe she would want the flag.

She was directed to the spa chair next to me where she immediate set up shop. Literally. Very, very, important and busy this one. 

I wanted to smack her. I knew right off she would not want the flag. Relax already. We are getting our toes done.

Relaxing wasn’t in her nature. She was tense and pinched, her voice clipped. Before her old polish was removed, she made two cell phone calls, speaking instructions hastily, very to-the-point. She left messages both times as I’m certain her calls were being screened. 

Kim: You want manicure too?

VeryBusyPerson: No. No time. Just a pedicure. Thank you. 

Kim: Yes, ok. 

What!? My mouth gaped I’m sure. What do you mean Yes, Ok. You people are going to let a captive manicure walk out the door? What about the flag? Aren’t you gonna ask if she wants a flag!  

Suddenly with this VeryImportantOne, the salon ladies had developed a filter. They never badgered her, never questioned her lack of a manicure or even offered a flag. 

Maybe they assume a rude person is unpatriotic? 

I looked over and she had her day planner spread across her lap. Every fifteen minutes was filled with an important meeting, the book stuffed with papers. I almost said, you know there’s a calendar on your iPhone, but I thought better of it. Somehow I think she likes toting around a big King James-looking calendar.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the foot massage. The salon atmosphere was completely different today. Phantom of the Opera played. Not the typical salon soundtrack. Perhaps Ms. Business Girl ordered this serious music in advance.

multitasking 
Suddenly I hear tap tap tap peck peck taptaptaptap pop pop pop pop tap. Very Very rapid fire typing sounding like a morse code machine. This chick is balancing a previously unseen laptop on her thighs while getting a pedicure. A very accomplished typist which I admire, but as she types a fortissimo spreadsheet I want to scream. Her cell phone text messages continue to roll in, constantly beeping. 
texting

The UPS man walked in with a delivery. If the package was for my spa mate I would truly be impressed…

I left happy and secure with the knowledge that even at my peak, raising kids, working 40 hours, shuttling back and forth to games and school functions, I was NEVER that busy and important. And I’m proud to be boring and patriotic without having stars and stripes on my toes. 

talya

Musical Pairings:

Superwoman, Alicia Keys
Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice

iQuit

By

 

Fun times at the Dallas branch!

I resigned from my loan officer position at State Bank & Trust about nine months ago. After 25 years with the same management, it was a huge change for everyone.  After a quarter-century, I couldn’t just write any old plain vanilla milk toast resignation letter…
I’ve had several friends request a copy of my letter, so I’m printing it here.

 

To: State Bank & Trust
Re: Letter of Resignation

It is with mixed emotions that I write this letter to notify you that
 ____I’m bored with the same ole stories
____ I hate all  my work clothes
____ I am tired of doing banking reports
____ I can’t hold my stomach in anymore
_x__ it’s time for a change.

I am therefore
____ going to beauty school
____ dropping out of society
____ getting plastered
____ learning Mandarin
____ having another baby
____ joining the clergy
_x__ tendering my resignation from the bank.

Please note that
____ I am hilarious
____ you will never see me again
____ I am hearing voices
____ I am changing my phone number
_x__ November 1, 2011 will be my last day of employment.

I would like to thank you for
____ never a dull moment
____ second hand smoke
____ internet access
____ free coffee and cheap insurance
____ letting me wear pants since 1995
____ a wonderful, fun job for a long, long time
_x__ ALL OF THE ABOVE!

Yours very truly,
Talya Tate Boerner

 

The Tortoise and the Hare (with a modern-day twist)

By

At long last I had successfully removed all the oil-based paint embedded underneath my ragged cuticles and was ready for more quality time with my trusty paintbrush. Apparently the planets were in perfect alignment as Tate and I planned to drive back to Fayetteville the same morning. With both vehicles packed to the max, this was ideal timing. I was not looking forward to a 5+ hour drive with two schnauzers. Annabelle tends to get carsick, and Lucy likes to make frequent puppy stops. But convoying with Tate, things would be much easier. 

In my mind, I pictured a nice little lunch stop at a shady rest area table – maybe around Lake Eufaula – while the dogs stretched their legs and we chatted about my writing and his upcoming internship. Maybe I should even make veggie wraps or turkey sandwiches for the road. Plus, with all the fruit stands along the way, I could buy a sack of home grown tomatoes and peaches. An old-fashioned picnic! Who doesn’t treasure a picnic? Just like old times.

When Tate was younger we convoyed every summer to boy scout camps scattered throughout Arkansas and Oklahoma, stopping on the way to eat lunch at a picturesque dot on the map. Mr. McCullar, scout master extraordinaire, always had icy coolers of cold drinks and made certain we ‘left no trace’ in the boy scout tradition. Fun times. Just yesterday…
When Staci and I were kids, Momma fried a chicken and packed it for our annual summer trip to the Memphis Zoo. That lunch was woofed down before we made it inside the huge entrance gates. We needed fried chicken before we saw monkey island, our absolute favorite exhibit. Picnics are just good ole’ summer fun. And so was monkey island.
Suddenly, a sharp JOLT  back to reality…
Tate: I need to get gas and stop by the bank so I’ll just catch up with you on the road somewhere.
Me: What!? On the road? Where? Don’t you want to follow each other?
Tate: No, I’ll just catch you. I won’t have any problem catching you.
Me: Stunned. Silent. Shocked. Speechless. 
And just like that he drove off before I could even explain the details of my peaceful roadside picnic. Fine. We would catch up on the road. I felt pressure to drive more rabbit-like and less turtle-y so Tate didn’t catch up to me in Plano.
The dogs slept soundly as I sang aloud to my favorite tunes, mostly from my college days. Nearly three hours down the road, the pups and I stopped at a gas station somewhere in Oklahoma to stretch. Although a far cry from the scenic lookout I envisioned, there was a vacant grassy lot next door perfect for dog walking. I watched for Tate sure he would see us and stop, ready to eat lunch. Not.
I also kept a sharp lookout for the Eufaula prisoner chain gang we lunched with a few months back at Ken’s Pizza. I didn’t see any of those guys either. Oddly enough this too was disappointing.
Less than 10 minutes later I saw Tate approaching in my rearview mirror. Yay! My stomach was reminding me of the promised picnic. Although I had not brought veggie wraps, there was a Sonic up ahead. We could exit and….. then in a split second he zipped around me without so much as a wave or smile. Objects really are closer than they appear. Did he even notice me? Evidently he wanted me to follow him….

I watched him up ahead, so handsome and independent driving along in his Xterra. Then just like the lightning fast Roadrunner, he disappeared on the horizon in a flash. I totally lost sight of him within five minutes flat. I hope he didn’t think Nana’s honorary deputy badge would get him out of an Oklahoma speeding ticket? I doubt it would even help him in Arkansas. What happened to my rule follower? 

Hmphf! Well, I didn’t need help with Lucy and Annabelle anyway. I had driven all over the country with Tate and Kelsey when they were mere babies, and they weren’t even crated!! No matter how hungry I became, I would NOT stop for food. I had raw almonds and dried prunes in a sack beside me that became my “picnic” and would easily sustain me for days should I plunge into an Ozark ravine. Later, when I am discovered and interviewed on Good Morning America, he will feel bad for ditching me. 

I thought he would stop at McDonalds. He still likes to eat. I would zip pass him and be in the lead. Not.
I expected to see him on the side of the road getting his first speeding ticket. I will casually wave at him. Not.
As I pulled into our drive in Fayetteville, I thought he would be there waiting to help me unload. Not.
Text from Tate: “I’m back.”
I’m not sure he even remembered I was driving on the same road. It was understandable. He was ready to be back in Fayetteville in his new apartment with his friends. 
Text from Me: “So am I.” He probably wondered where I had been. I realized at that moment the odds of his helping me paint were slim.
The moral of this story: Don’t expect the hare to be a mind-reader.

talya

Musical Pairings:

“Speed Racer Theme Song”, Danny Davis and the Nashville Brass
“Drive”, The Cars

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!