Julie Pippert: Using My Words

Let's set the scene. It begins this week, a few days ago on Tuesday. My frugal friend who always happens to pass along great sales tips let me know that a grocery store a few miles away offered awesome deals ending that day. So I strapped in the kids and we headed north. The whole way there was one question after another, "Where are we going?" Why are we going there? Didn't we already go to the store this week? Are there toys there? Mom? Mom? Are you listening? If you don't listen then...then...no donuts for you today." Normally, I'd say, "Oh, okay...please, throw me into the Briar Patch." But on Tuesday, the thought of "donut" made me groan in want and need. Still I remained silent in response. When in doubt, keep your mouth shut. This (a) enables the other person to fill the dead air in their own way (which is usually much more inventive than anything you could actually say) and (b) keeps my ass covered. We passed by the bakery, wher

(Sorry...no image today...they all seemed wrong somehow...) What do you know. How freaky weird. Mommies in trouble (see last post) must have been on my mind. And I mean beyond my little range of friends and family. My mind must have registered the local trial of Andrea Yates, even if I assiduously avoid the local news (which sucks rotten, green eggs if you must know. OMG the local news is godawful bad...well beyond if it bleeds it leads. Either this is the most violent city in the US or it likes to think it is. Car chases? Every damn day. Dead kids? Every damn day. And let me tell you...the news leads with and beats that rug dead. The only thing likely to supplant it is the Weather. As in, Hurricanes. And the only thing worse than the local news? Is the local radio. It's enough to make a penny pincher buy satellite radio for the car. Sheesh. And for the record, I've lived and been to MANY places on earth and trust me, here? Is the worst.) Happily, Andrea Yates is from literally

There's something going around. I can sense it. It must be the dog days of summer, and like pets gone wild in a storm, the kids have all gone stark raving mad. No, wait, that's the mommies. I can't tell you how many moms have recently wondered---and I don't mean in an existential way---about their state of being in the universe of motherhood. I know one mom who has a bag of essentials packed, stowed in her closet. Just in case. She says it makes her feel better, like she isn't a rat in a maze, trapped. I'm not sure whether that is hilarious or tragic. Ahem. I say to each her own, whatever gets you and the kids through each day. And like any step-by-step program, mommyhood is truly a day-to-day deal. An all day deal. An every day deal. An every minute of every day deal. My husband recently admitted to being somewhat peeved at being expected to don his father mantle the instant he stepped through the front door of the house. There's a mantle? And fathers get t

Does Sisyphus eventually collapse under the weight of the stone? Lately---as I try to fix everything that has been broken from the move and other life events---I wonder. Today's was Bank of America. I'm not sure whether I mean Bank of America as the stone or the moutain. But it's definitely an obstacle, either way. Possibly it's better to go Latin than Greek in my analogy here. Perhaps Bank of America, like late Rome, is collapsing under the weight of its own empire and bureaucracy. Because they certainly seem either very confused, utterly untrained, or totally out of control in the Electronics Claims Services division. You know? Those aren't mutually exclusive. It could be all three. I cite the "shifting date game" and the "semantic challenge" I've been playing with them lately. Let's go back to April. Back then, my husband and I hired---after due diligence, mind you---a web designer to design our business web site. We paid him a down pa

The shadows trick my eye, with their hint of illumination, making me think white is blue. My mind knows reality but my eye is easily fooled. When my eye leads, that is And I can end up missing the mark for lack of thought. A common---or is it normal---mistake. I rarely---or is it hardly---know the difference. And you'd think I'd know the difference Between white and blue, I mean. But the truth is--- and what is truth? Do I really mean truth, or do I mean in my experience?--- they are closer than you think. And in the dark, you can easily mistake one for the other. By Julie Pippert Artful Media Group Museum Quality Digital Art and Photography Limited Edition Prints Artful by Nature Fine Art and Photography Galleries © 2006. All images and text exclusive property of Julie Pippert. Not to be used or reproduced.