Mama Sho' Do Know

I cleaned the crump out of my friend's house today. In the novel of my life? This friend is a (huge- not her, but the role she plays) African-American grandmother who fizzles out when asked to make a housekeeping decision,  yet who is spot on with subjects other than....spots. Laundry? Nope. Scrubbing? Nope. Chicken pox? Oh, hell. no. But ask her how to make a $4.00 Advent wreath, and she recites the list like no-one's business. An old mayonnaise jar? To practical, dare-I-say-boring me, this belongs in the recycle bin. (Recycling is a source of tension between me and 'Mama", BTW. Oh, and she calls herself Mama.).  But she revamps this into the most charming crayon jar.She has a remarkable way of turning her nose up at any toys under $200.00. She is LUXURIOUS. When gas was at it's highest, she would heedlessly take me for joy rides, becoming happily lost in the twists and turns of fall foliage. When I asked if her husband opposed (reminder- Ned is always on my mind) the "wasted" mileage and gas, she merrily replied "Oh, he took away all my credit cards a long time ago. If I have gas, I just use it." and put the pedal to the metal.  When her teenage son, sent to his room, referred to himself as a Rapunzel- who is shunned away from society- she looked guiltily at me for a quick second, before retorting "Well, let down your hair and maybe I'll make you dinner."  Just meetin' him where he's at. That's the way Mama rolls.

I forgot to mention she likes moose.

What Mama and I usually do together is clean. I love cleaning her house. Everything is quality. Wooden toys galore (I love wooden toys. Melissa and Doug own my heart.)  I've learned a lot about Mama by cleaning her house. "One man's junk is another man's treasure." A string on the floor?  Met by  a squeal, "Oh my gosh, I have been looking all over for that!"  A Melissa and Doug farm set? Met by an weary sigh "Just get rid of it."  Her son's 5th grade notebook? I practically begged her to throw it out. Not happening. Two perfectly good down blankets? (BTW, we live in Buffalo.)  Completely re-buy-able. Oh, the charm!  It never ends. Her hair is always perfect. Like, perfect. Annoyingly perfect. She has seasonal menus on the blackboard in her kitchen (pumpkin scones are just the beginning.) It doesn't matter whether or not she actually cooks them. It's nice for her husband to see the list. The effort alone warms the home. It's clear why he fell for her in the first place. Wouldn't you want promises of re-useable mayonnaise jars, pumpkin scones, and perfect hair?