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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rick Julian who wrote (19862)	3/19/1999 9:24:00 PM
From: Rambi	Respond to of 71178

Funny that mama topic has come up--- I just managed to knock over one of my recipe boxes and 3000000 little 3x5s flew all over the floor-- and as I cursed and started picking them up, there was my mother's molasses cookies recipe in her handwriting, staring up at me-accusingly. She probably did that intentionally from the great beyond to make me feel guilty for my filthy mouth. There's something about seeing the handwriting of someone you loved who's gone that gets you... not that my mother could write legibly. I probably make those cookies all wrong cuz she wrote so horribly. She used to write in Gregg's (or is it Grigg?)shorthand-- I'd get letters from her in college where she'd forget and start writing in these weird squiggles and loops. I'd call her and say, "Mom, you're going to have to translate this-- dash with a loop on the end and a line and then..." She finally started typing everything. Anyway, she used to make these cookies--they're sort of invincible, like cookies of steel. You could ship them anywhere in the world and they'd stay intact and edible for months. Mom's Mighty Molasses Mounds. She'd send huge boxes of them to my dorm. I used to trade them for those Cape Cod potato chips in the cannisters. I loved those things. Now my kids call them Mommy cookies. And I imagine I'll be shipping them off next year to some dorm....and CW will trade them for beer and women.

To: Rick Julian who wrote (19862)	3/19/1999 9:55:00 PM
From: Gauguin	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

Hey, Karma. Thanks. Think you have trubbles? I just woke up from a micro nap (bent neck varietyaaaaaa) and I have my first mosquito bite of the year ~ right on the knuckle. Damn! I have to stop every few letters and claw the skin and tissues off. The first one of the year is a very special one. My blood has forgotten all about mosquito venom and got pregnant its first time. I think that was Michael C's Momma's lasagna. Far and away one of the most beautiful things I've read around here. I went to see my mom and dad this weekend. My Mom barely knows who I am. I am adjusted to this very well, for some reason, and she and I have a great time. But my 34 yr old niece, when we were in her car, said "I can't bring her out to see the car this time." "Why not? We can get her out here with the walker. It'll take half an hour, but she might like it." "Because she's Grammaw. She said once she's always wanted a Lincoln. She's the only person who's ever really been nice to me, and I don't think she even knows who I am anymore." And this hardened little bitch I like a lot started to cry. My dad gave me a present. He knows I love books and architecture and history and The Mediterrenean. He gave me The Folio Society's Italian Cities. Three big perfectly made volumes; green, white, and red. Venice, Florence, and Rome. He, Stream Man, was raped out of his retirement intentionally by the corporation he worked for 29 years. He can't afford anything. We send him 75 Depends every month we can for Mom. But he buys me books. I want to buy him a Pronea camera, because it takes swell pictures automatically. When I log on his machine the screen saver is a brilliant picture of flowers in his yard, that my brother-in-law set up on the screen for him. But alas ~ I am going to LA (monster bit of guilt there). I was going to cancel, because of that reason and the fact I'm not makin any money either. MJ insisted we go anyway. "I don't want to be 65, knowing we never got to Holland and never saw those paintings." "You're just saying that because you know he's god to me." "No I'm not. I want to go. I want to go too." Wow. Dash finally walked in. HE WENT TO THE CUPBOARD FOR A GLASS AND HAS A BOTTLE OF GIN IN HIS HAND. He says to MJ, "I'm not an alcoholic." "Here's the shot glass." "I don't need it." I can hear the gurle-burbling from here. The cool thing about medical stuff is that it is not as stressful as personal livelihood. I don't know who an artist can go to. When your foot is bad or your heart is bad, you can go to someone and say, I need help with this. This is something I have no idea how to do. Also, an artist can be doing things right, and still not enough people may buy them. (Van Gogh comes to mind; and an artist I work with.) Now Dash and MJ are discussing the Coach of Iowa State. "Get off that computer." "Get off sports." Thanks for the rum. I'll tell my techie, he buys that stuff for us.