See those HORRIBLE brown spots on my face? A product of being 20 and stupid. To those of you my age, remember laying out in the sun, slathering on baby oil, and dare I say it, a stick of butter. Stupid takes on an entirely new meaning now, am I right?
     Yes, we did that. I'd turn a lovely brown, but it took some work. Taking more hours to turn golden than it took my friends, I'd lay out in my back yard, turning randomly (I was a lay-on-your-back girl because I had big boobs), turning bright red almost immediately. Red came before brown.
     And I was a bored sun bather. I hated it, but because everyone did it, I did it. I wanted to be pretty, because everyone knows that everyone looks better (and smaller) with a tan.
    I grew older and tanning beds took the place of my lawn chair. They were quick. In and out. Nice and brown. I liked that. Then, I became bored of that, too.
    Kids plus jobs plus no me-time put an end to my relationship with the sun, real or man-made.
    However, it has left it's mark.
    Brown spots all over, but the only ones that make my skin crawl are those on my face. Two weeks ago, I (with a push from Len) decided to fix this. After all, I have a new set of beautiful teeth; I need a face to frame them. After a consultation (checking for melanomas and other skin issues) at Georgia Skin Cancer and Aesthetic Dermatology, I called back for an appointment. It's not a cheap procedure (three to do the trick), but it definitely wasn't as much as I had imagined. After a quick first treatment (15 minutes), my face was on fire, and it stayed that way for about three hours. Then, I was fine. Well, then the brown spots became brown boulders on my face, much like Skittles-pox but less tasty! They have to get worse before they get better. Why don't I just engrave that on my forehead for this is the story of everything I've ever gone through. 
    I keep thinking this; next time I look at my photograph, I'll see me and not brown spots.
    It's been two weeks, and the brown crusty spots have all but disappeared. Some color remains underneath, thus the need for additional treatments. It's amazing how much better I feel about me. Who knew brown spots could hold so much power?
     This is also my birthday month, and I've made myself a promise for this 59th year. I will learn to love me. I will believe that I'm important and worthy and good. I will treat myself with the respect that I deserve, not because of anything I've done, but because of whose I am. I will take care of my well-being in such a way that as my aging body challenges me, I can hit back . . . hard. I will listen to my husband and my son (NOT to those whose opinions really don't matter) who tell me of my worth and my capacity to do great things. And those great things must start inside me.
     Teeth ✔️
     Brown spots on face ✔️
     Next,a healthy body and lifestyle . . . 😱
     I think that scares me most of all.

I've made it to 59.
     Some days, I wasn't so sure I'd see this day come. Who knew aches and pains know exactly when to rear their ugly heads? Right on time. I feel you every single day. This old age stuff isn't for the weak!
     What a year that was, and all I can say, is how thankful I am to be living and loving.
     Nevertheless, I feel God's grace as I remember the year gone by.

      * All the brides and grooms and love we got to capture. What joy!
      * Ireland, oh my heart beats for you.
      * Mari married Phelim, and I got to watch (and cry).
      * The Carrick-a-Rede bridge tested me. I can do what I think I can't.
      * There is such a thing as racing toilets.
      * Assignments nabbed with the big boys!
      * Marinating book . . .
      * Achilles Heel or Hell, you are my weakness. Thank God for only two feet.
      * Costa Rica restored life to me by way of my teeth, proving that when you do your homework and take a risk, chances are it will work out.
      * Osa Peninsula - there's something there that I can't quite put my finger on. I'll see you again.
      * Canada + Montreal + Quebec = thanks for the memories and the passport stamp!
      * Ty's and Logan's lives are on track. And Billy, I'm so glad you're here.
      * Sunday School with Jimmy Carter. Inspiring.
      * I climbed the Acropolis!
    
There's so much more in this life I want to accomplish, so much more I want to see. And, I get to do it all with the man I love more than life itself. Of all my blessings, you, my dear, are the greatest. You lift me up, you accept my dreams, you question my emotions (as do I), you believe in me.
     So as we begin this last year of this tough - but memorable - decade, let's walk it as triumphantly as the Beatles walked Abbey Road. That's right, I compared Two Coots to the Beatles!
    
    

yesterday is a funny thing. it holds that time-space-star trek-weird kind of leverage. something i'm almost positive sheldon and leonard could explain. however, in my mind, yesterday, when provoked, flashes in-and-out on a daily basis. like when i drive by schools and see the suv express dropping off kids, or pick up a bottle of v-8 in the grocery store, or drive down the road and see bubbles of black topping the ground.

those school drop-offs put me behind my suv wheel, tapping patiently, waiting for three happy-go-lucky kids to doddle from the house to the car, offering no attempt to be a little early - just once. i was frazzled by my first period roll call. len's mom had v-8 every day, mango and peach only. i buy it now when i need more veta love in my life. and those black bubbles. as i drive into town, i see calves lying everywhere in green pastures, my first indicator that spring has rescued us from a terrible winter. even though i'm an outsider, I get to watch those shaky legs take their first steps. if i was lucky once upon a time, daddy would get me close enough to touch the newborn's tender skin.

those happy-go-lucky kids were just babies yesterday. heck, i was only twenty-something yesterday. where did the in-between go?

now, my baby is going to be a mama which makes me a grandma. in about 10 days or so. as much as i hate not being there to welcome my granddaughter, i cry at the thought that i won't be there for mari. to tell her everything is going to be okay. to assure her that the hurt won't last forever. and don't forget to just breathe, as drew barrymore said in your favorite movie. just to be her mama, to hold her and be proud of her and remember when she was nothing more than a promise.

i struggle with that, and also, not being involved in a mother's ultimate wish. i won't be there to welcome her or snuggle with her. and she won't get to learn my touch or feel my care. so until we breathe the same air, introductions must be made and words must be exchanged. and i will have faith that my images and words will allow caitlin to know that somewhere, there's a lady just itching to rip off those socks and play with her toes.

my life has always been centered around words and images. now, i put all that i have learned to the test. my mission - to not miss a thing. it's much more complicated than that, but that's it in a nutshell.

so when my baby becomes a mama and this mama becomes a grandma and len puts on his grandpa hat, it will all be as it should be. and until the plane ride becomes nothing more than a drive around the corner, get ready for lots of words and photos and love from mayne. grandma and grandpa's got lots to share.

it's what a son does. his gets his mama a bike for her birthday so that she'll be around for grandchildren. plus, she gets to be cool riding down the road with a mesh basket and silver bell. i use the bell much more than i should except i forgot to use it on the second day as i was being chased by two flesh eating dogs (they appeared to be rich dogs with nice collars and manners but i wasn't going to stop and ask). i did prove to myself that the rest stops made the prior day were just whimpy on my part. i could make it the entire distance without a breather if motivated by fear. so thanks, ty, for thinking of my future. i'll do my best to hang around.  

i've always thought it kind of cool to be the lone girly fish in a sea of men. surrounded by testosterone, manly men sporting guns (the arm-candy kind), smiling and being shifty. if you're a woman and reading this, tell me i'm wrong. you can't. i know you too well.

it's my birthday week - yes, when you're this old, you get a week - and i started thinking about all the men that i have been around these past seven days. so, here's a list, in order of appearance :)

1. lloyd carter: he's my touchstone to my past. a father of a friend who reminds me just how good life was and is. his smile is contagious and his attitude, inspirational. len and i spend last sunday afternoon with his family, at the family reunion. since our parents are gone, we've adopted new parents plus an entire family. i can't think of any better than this man. thank you lloyd for loving me and showing me the way. you're a 91-year old-pistol!

2. his holiness the dalai lama: i know what you're thinking. you really weren't with him, but i like to think sharing the same air space counts for something. after all, a year ago, if you had told me i would be 'shooting' this man, i would have laughed in your face. so there's two moments here; one of opportunity and one of inspiration. being in gwinnett arena on wednesday proved that you're never too old to dream. if you want something badly enough, well, then, go get it. today, i'm 54, and i - along with my husband -  want to be tops in the travel/writing/photography industry. i'm on my way because this week - i photographed THE dalai lama. wow. secondly, it never hurts to hear some common sense preached. simple concepts of love, compassion, respect - that's all it takes to solve the worlds greatest ills. sounds like the thoughts of another who changed the world. i'm overflowing with gratitude.

3. ty johnson: yes, he's my son, and i'm partial. as a mom, i have that right. over the past few months, he has been my inspiration. len and i have been watching him map out his life, attempting to figure out the path that will lead him to where he wants to go (and, yes, it has nothing to do with spelling). it's not where he wants to go that's impressive, it's the steps he's taking to get there. the old adage of "it's not the destination but the journey" rings true. he has taught me the importance of commitment to a goal and the risk of being steadfast and to jump when all those risks line up. i'm proud of him, and i'm proud to be his mom. i'm tickled-pink to find a hand-written note on the counter before sunrise. again, so much gratitude.

4. len garrison, sexy man: that's his listing in my phone. when i call upon my voice commands to dial him up, she always asks if i want to dial "len garrison, sexy man". i always giggle, and say yes. and then i giggle more when i realize that he's mine. and as he reminds me on my birthday card, he's "my own personal sheldon". and then i remind myself of just how lucky i am. rock-bottom was my only option until i found him - or rather, he found me. then he raised me up, allowed me to dream, and promised he'd be there every second. that - my friends - is the gift that keeps on giving. overflowing with gratitude.

so these are my men of this birthday week. a distinguished assortment of testosterone.

the 11alive forecast told of a perfect day in georgia. an "11" on the wizometer. i tend to agree. it's only a few hours old, and perfection is rising.