"You can not get a refund. I've told you this twice" he heard the man say, in an irritated and raised voice. Automatically he glanced over to see a young, pimply faced boy say to the woman. The boy was no doubt the son or nephew of the small market's owner, throwing his clout around to seem important in a store that was well liked by it's customers. He thought immediately that this was probably the only place this little jerk felt any resemblence to authority or respect. His Adam's Apple was grossly pronounced, his mousy brown hair was greasy with large flakes of white at what was supposed to be a part and his complexion was too horrid for the largest case of Proactive.
"Ok, thank you for your help anyway" the woman sheepishly said as she backed her cart away from the small counter that served as the service desk and clearly embarrassed, she darted away from the beady eyes of Pimple Boy and into the produce isle.

Her voice had a familiarity to it.

He continued his mission for tonight's dinner. Steaks on the grill with some buddies--he was certainly looking forward to that after the tiring week of moving all of his belongings into the new rental house in the sleepy little town that was on the outskirts of the plastic factory he'd been working at for over 8 months now. As much hoopla that had been made over the quaint little market, he was not impressed. He grabbed 4 rib-eye steaks from the meat cooler that didn't quite measure up to what he was hoping for. And, they were not cheap! He headed towards the produce section looking for some decent baking potatoes and Romaine lettuce for a salad. He had already been given the first of the season's tomatoes and cucumbers out of his mother's garden two days prior. That's when he saw her again. This time a young boy of about eight or nine was rolling his eyes at her as she shook her head in disapproval of the 12 pack of bubble gum that he was poking at her. The boy reminded him of someone he once knew, too. Odd. The lad stomped off to return the sugary demon back to it's original spot, shaking his head and mumbling his disdain. From the potato bin, he could see her look toward the boy, watching him make it safely to the candy isle. Her hair was platinum blonde, she was short in stature and overweight. She was wearing denim shorts and a Barbie tee-shirt. He could tell she took time to look presentable for her excursion. He watched as she checked her shopping list, marked a line through something and grabbed a cellophane bag, most likely for the lemons she was standing in front of. That's when he recognized her.

The object of his affections some 20 plus years ago. He stood watching her, carefully but quickly grabbing lemons and chucking them into the bag before her son came back to rush her. Yes, that young boy was her son, he looked exactly like her husband. Her husband, she was involved with him when he wanted to be so much more than friends in high school. He had heard, a couple of years after he graduated, that she and he had gotten married in their small hometown--the town he was now calling home. He remembered how he felt when he saw the proof, the announcement in the Sunday newspaper, of the news he had heard only weeks before. He never could quite come up with the word that described exactly how he felt. There probably wasn't just one word for the gauntlet of emotions he went through on that Sunday afternoon. He was saddened mostly. She really was the only girl that really knew him, she was really the only girl he had loved. He had loved her. He had loved her passionately. That's what probably ruined everything for "them". Even though theirs' was a clandestine relationship, it was a real and powerful relationship, nonetheless.

He kept his head down as he watched her. He noticed how hurried her actions were. He noticed that she too kept her head down as she scurried from vegetable bin to refrigerator bin picking out the right vegetables and fruits to feed her family. He smiled inwardly. That had not changed. She always put everything and more importantly, everyone, before herself. Another reason, one she admitted to him numerous times, that "they" couldn't be together. Her son came running back, this time with an overpriced magazine. He demanded that he could not live without it. She sweetly told him that this time he would not be able to get it. The boy was livid at her response and began to berate her. He watched her take the magazine from the son that looked so much like his father and put it into the buggy. This of course pleased the boy and he skipped off to certainly find another "must-have". He watched her shoulders droop, he saw her mark a few more items off her shopping list and head out of the produce section.
She wheeled the cart, head down, toward the laundry isle.

He quickly followed, leaving his own cart and pathetic steaks right where they were. He found her pricing Tide, but settling for Cheer. He noticed a worried look on her face as she fumbled in her purse for the ringing cell phone. She answered, giving the caller a run down of the night's menu. That was her husband, he was sure of it. He heard her tell him she loved him and he must have asked how long she was going to be because he heard her give him a time. This expedited her trip. He felt like a creepy stalker following his long lost high school love from isle to isle. He hated himself for it, for watching her moves and not pitching in to help her out, but he could not bring himself to let her know he was there. He certainly didn't want her to see the disappointment in his eyes. This was not the girl he loved then, loved still. The feisty and peppy girl that he visited still in his dreams would never had let Pimple Boy off so easy. That girl would have gotten her refund and a couple of smart-alec comments in, in the process. The sweet but sturn young girl he had known would never had caved so quickly to a young boy (regardless) for anything. He had loved that so about her. She was so liked by everyone and that was important to her all those years ago, but she also stood firm in what she believed in and was sometimes disliked for that. She didn't let that keep her from walking through the halls of that school with her head held high. She never would have even contemplated going anywhere with her chin ducked. Again, he loved that about her. She was exhausting at times for him, but he never could be mad with her for she had immense strength and pride. She was by no means proud, she was strong. He had never found a woman with the strength of that girl. He didn't want her to see the soreness, still, in his eyes for the man--now her husband--who held so much power over her. It still hurt his heart to admit that. He didn't want her to see the sadness on his face at how she seemed to let her appearances go. Not that she wasn't still pretty, but her weight showed that she was at the very bottom of any totem pole in her life. The lines around her eyes revealed more than years of laughing. That hurt his heart as well.

He watched her gather up her precarious son and look for the shortest check out line. He watched her converse shyly with the cashier. Again, that wasn't the girl of his past. She would have been laughing and chatting with all she passed. He watched and listened as she thanked the young girl bagging her groceries and call her boy, "sweet-heart". His eyes followed her as she returned the shopping cart to it's spot and grab out the bags. His heart stopped for one brief, shining moment as she scanned the store before leaving and locked eyes with him. Then, for the first time since he'd seen her, he saw a glimpse of the girl he loved. She flashed the most amazing smile his way. He couldn't be for certain if she recognized him. All he did know for certain was that along with his girl, that woman walked out of the market.

--I got the idea for this from a prompt saying write something from an old bf/gf's point of view. First time using a writing prompt. Hope it's ok.

God is Love--Peace Out

Almost Back...

I know, I know--this is UNACCEPTABLE! I haven't blogged in FOREVER! There is just NO sense in it.





Please bear with me as I slip back into blogging. I'm sure I'll be random and sporadic... I'm sure the first blogs I enter will sound like something from a distraught teen-agers' diary. My "writing" has suffered as has my creativity. I haven't written in so long--there's lots of stories to tell. Please, please accept this apology in advance. Sandi, if you're reading--please continue to read, I promise it won't be like this for long...





Ok, just incase you've been wondering where I've been and what I've been doing and why I have neglected The Hoot-Owl Harangue here's the skinny. The anorexic right now: 1. Winter Time Blues... dear God. I'm telling you--I need to be where the sun shines all the time. New Years' Eve (around 4am to be exact) kicked me into full fledged depression and sent my marriage into a tailspin.





2. Laziness... 'nuff said





3. Work has blossomed and I have thrived and I am very happy about that!





4. Feelings of inadequacy and a lack of creative thoughts. Did I mention the winter time blues?

Belated Birthday Love

Mr. Peyton turned 43 on July 25th. Only my family and some of my friends (and of course the boys) wished him a happy birthday... sigh... Anyho, we rang in his special day doing... pretty much nothing! teehee! But he seemed to enjoy it.

In honor of my SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN, I wanted to share the lyrics to a song that always reminds me of him when I hear it.

Little words with love and understandin'

From a small town Southern man

And he bowed his head to Jesus
And he stood for Uncle Sam
And he only loved one woman
(He) was always proud of what he had
He said his greatest contribution
Is the ones you leave behind
Raised on the ways and gentle kindness
Of a small town Southern man

Callous hands told the story
For this small town Southern man
He gave it all to keep it all together
And keep his family on his land
Like his daddy, years wore out his body
Made it hard just to walk and stand
You can break the back
But you can't break the spirit
Of a small town Southern man

I love you Fu-Fu! Always have... Always will!

God is Love--Peace Out

July 17, 2010

Bright and early on Saturday, July 17th, 2010 we rose, dressed and headed out for our family vacation. Pumping myself full of curiously strong coffee, I prepared myself for the day as we trekked down I64 towards the serene beauty of the Outer Banks and North Carolina. I was preparing to stare down "the BIG 4-0".

Surprisingly enough, I was full of enthusiasm. (or extra strong coffee? or excitement cuz I was heading to my favorite place, EVER) Nah, something was clicking inside my head about embracing this chapter, heading in full swing, happily.

We made great time getting to the beach and I was almost like a 8 year old (not a middle-aged woman) scrambling out of the 4Runner, gathering towels, chairs and sunscreen, and making a bee-line to the backdrop of my soul refreshing comfort.

A couple of years ago, we were in OBX for my birthday and a school of dolphins visited. I felt that was MY gift that year. It literally made my day. (Have I mentioned that I'm fascinated with dolphins--Flipper was 1 of my fave shows growing up--LOL) I wondered to myself if I'd get that gift this special year as well. The boys relayed that they hoped I'd get that precious gift. (aww--love them, this was before they got a little ungrateful... ugh) Well, guess what... THEY CAME! They frolicked. I know they wished me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! AMAZING! Ahhh, yep, my final birthday wish came true! God is good!

We had lunch at the Pier Restaurant, delish. A grumpy local got irritated with me. UGH! We checked into the hotel and ended up back out on the beach that evening. BLISS!

God is Love--Peace Out

Closeness...

Ok, I can't wait to blog about my birthday and our vaca to OBX. Sweet Outer Banks, North Carolina! Ahhhh! In my world, there's NO PLACE like that delicious little slice of Heaven!

Speaking of Heaven... I HAD to share my very 1st sunrise over the ocean. In all my 40 years, I've never experienced that mesmerizing peacefulness.

I'm sooo not a morning person, however I was determined I was going to see the sunrise over my beautiful Outer Banks ocean, this trip. It's strange, it was like I was almost pulled by some outside force to do this. Was it determination? Was it that I am now 40 years old and feel kinda like I HAVE to do certain bucket-list-type things? Did my soul need nourishing that bad? (I have told you that the beach is good for my soul, right?) Hmmm... I think it was God. God knew what witnessing His beauty would do for me!

As Mr. Peyton and I sat on the hotel's weather beaten deck, I got ready. Coffee? Check! Cig? Check! Camera ready? Check! Then Ean comes out to join in. I was speaking to him, when I hear my husband say, "Here it comes"...

That's when it started. (I don't know if I can get through this without crying) Just the slightest pink. (I couldn't speak) More pink, maybe a little orange? (Now I was completely in awe, feeling a closeness to the Lord) The sun is half way up now. The bright sky is a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges and yellows. The waves are almost a whisper. No one is saying a word. I'm snapping photos without even looking at the camera screen. Again, I can't take my eyes off of the sun. (I begin to thank God for all my blessings, silently) The beautiful scene is now complete, as a gull swoops by. The sun is up, shining it's brightness on the sea. On myself and my family. (Evan is here now) Mr. Peyton ended up with the camera. I don't know when he got it, I was too enthralled with tranquil beauty. My soul was busy. My heart was overflowing with God's grace.

I will forever remember my very 1st sunrise over the ocean. An everyday miracle, I suppose.

God is Love--Peace Out

chasing youth?

I'm sooooo not into the whole Zac Efron craze. I DO think he's cute as a button though! Anyho, I've been seeing the previews for his new movie, Charlie St. Cloud. I think I want to see it. Looks sweet. Looks sad... I love a good cry during a movie! Probably won't pay the theater prices to see it, guess I'll wait till it comes out on DVD.

Anything about brothers draws me in!

God is Love--Peace Out

Heroes

Got my 1st 40th birthday card today from a sweet lil visitor...

It read:

40?

Don't freak out or start trippin...

"Old people don't use words like that anymore".

TEEHEE! Guess who it's from... Give up? My Dad!!!! Silly boy!

It was so great seeing him tonite! Although, he did look tired. Worn out--physically and emotionally...

I'm so happy to spend another birthday with him! Have I told you that I really like that man?

God is Love--Peace Out

(photo taken Homecoming 1987)