My Poor Rich Life

On this day in the late 1900’s, umpteen years ago, I came into the world kicking and screaming, weighing in at just over 6 pounds, with a steady weigh gain ever since. The head full of black hair was soon replaced with blonde by growing out, not falling out. I looked like I had been dipped. I grew up poor *insert the sound of screeching tires here* My definition (then) of 'poor' and the reality of poor are two different things. Poor is having nothing and lacking everything. Poor by definition is~ Deprived Underprivileged Needy Disfavored Weak Inadequate Meager Inferior Mediocre.

I came to realize that I had everything I needed and wanted…and then some. Self reflection is good for shaking you into knowing the truth. Here are some truths: I was drugged as a child on a daily basis…drug to church, drug everywhere my Mama went, drug to the pea patch or corn field, and drug to the grandparents every other weekend. The grandparents live in a palace (mini country farm) where the pillows were filled with authentic down feathers (straight from the chicken’s butt) *insert sneeze here* This princess was allergic! The meats were all freshly butchered (in the country kitchen, by Grannie, including that chicken). The veggies were all natural, organic, handpicked, selected and shelled (by everyone and anyone that ate). There were acres and acres to roam and explore, from wide open fields (working fields of corn and cotton) to the lush shady woods with rippling streams (roamed by foot, no quarter horses to ride). Just up the street (dirt road) was the Methodist church, where we all attended on Sunday if we stayed over night at Grannie and Granddaddy’s. The church was old so the air conditioner (opened windows) didn’t work real well, so the fans (paper ones from the funeral home) were held and waved by hand. The singing was good and the little Sunday school room smelled of crayons. If I close my eyes I can still hear Grannie’s voice singing and smell that smell……

Growing up I only wore designer clothes, all custom made (by my Mama on her Singer ZigZag) There were three of us children, the average middle class American family…. a sister and a brother, and I was caught in the middle…The dreaded middle child...always in the middle of everything. I was always into whatever my Daddy was doing. Yep I was a TomBoy…romped and played with all the boys in the neighborhood. The TomBoy phase lasted until I discovered that boys were cute…well some of them anyway.

When I was young we had our own gym…(a gym set, swings with a sliding board), in the back yard. We also had professional driving lessons ...in the back yard too…(self taught by going round and round in a dune buggy made by my Daddy). Our swimming pool (a large foot tub and a water hose) kept us cool in the hot summers. We were scientist who invented and used our imagination to its fullest (mostly dreaming of the what ifs).

 We were doctors, poking and prodding; lawyers dictating lots of rules and defending the helpless; and we were even the occasional Indian chief who made sure the rules were followed. Barbie was my best friend and Davy Jones was my idol. 
We each had a good education for as many years as we cared to pursue…our minds were expanded and talents were utilized and built upon. I could do or be anything I wanted to be. And what I wanted to be was an artist…to create, paint, draw, and photograph. What I became was a wife with a job in a bank, a Mama to Holly years later, a Baptist, and an artist too; by her own right and God given talent… talents pursued not by profession or job but by pleasure, desire, and choice.

These were all my choices. You see, life is as luxurious and rich as you believe it to be. One person’s richness is to another considered a poor life. I am blessed with the richness of a Mama and Daddy that are still living and still married to each other and to have had grandparents that I looked up to, who loved and adored us. We were taught values and morals, given responsibilities (chores) and an allowance (a very small amount of $ with certain privileges). I am blessed to have a husband, the only one I’ve ever had, a beautiful daughter, wonderful family on both sides, and lots and lots of great friends. Rich by definition is ~ Prosperous Full Plentiful Stuffed (I love that one) Valuable Sweet Fertile Productive Fruitful Strong Opulent Precious Abounding

….So you see…Rich describes my life...My life as I know and love it,

from the day I was born and born again until today…My Birthday!

I have been blessed more than I deserve. I’m thankful for actually having another birthday; for friends that share my birthday; and for all the small things today. We all have our special day…so…Happy Birthday to you too.

I made myself a Birthday Pie...a Blueberry Birthday Pie!

 

Janan I will share the recipe with you later...it is easy!

Happy Birthday Christina and Kim =)
After thought~ Grannie always called me on my Birthday and sang to me~
~Swoon~
I miss that.....