Nekkid Is As Nekkid Does...

Although I don't leave Podunk often, I do love to visit my mother as often as I can.

My little Podunk is a somewhat isolated little town on what locals call one of the "wide spots in the road" along one of the many Texas Interstate Highways. But my mother lives in a larger town (which is sufficiently large enough to contain enough homes and businesses to almost look like a normal "city")

(Albeit it's not as large as medium sized cities like San Antonio or San Angelo).

It's quite a long haul in the Jeep to drive to my mother's town. And also, there's a reason I don't like to leave Podunk. It is because I'm just Podunk-i-cized enough to dislike anything which vaguely resembles the "big city".

But every now and then, when I find that I'm getting too much of the road dust, farm grit, or ranch dirt on me, I like to take a trip to see my mother. My mother's house is a beautiful oasis in the wild Texan wilderness. No matter how stressed out I get, no matter how many of life's crazy roadblocks frustrate me, and no matter how insane the inside of my brain gets----

And no matter how tired I get of rounding up errant goat escapees....

And no matter how many asshole cows sass me when I politely ask them for directions to their ranch ....

And no matter how many arrogant and stuck-up paint ponies (who look suspiciously like spotted donkeys trying to pass themselves off as paint ponies) ignore me because they think they're "cool"--- BUT THEY'RE NOT....

And even when I think I'm hallucinating because some nutty rancher decides to put a llama out in the pasture to confuse the hell out of me....

I know that I can always go to my mother's lovely house and get some much-needed peace and quiet in a beautiful setting---while immersing myself in her elegant and healing atmosphere....

My mother loves beautiful things, and thus surrounds herself with beautiful antiques and artwork. As a matter of fact, she is a bonafide artist herself. She paints in oil, she designs luxurious brocade and tapestry textile objects (cushions, ottomans, pillows), and she designs and sculpts mosaic objects. Her work is currently exhibited in two cities, and she frequently sells some of her pieces to selected customers.

Due to her collection of art, antiques, and her designs, her home is very beautiful, both inside and out--- and she frequently allows the local citizenry to organize tours of her home and gardens.

Anyhoo, in view of the fact that I'd had a couple of rough weeks, a few days ago I decided to drive down and visit my mother for a much needed "interlude of serenity". It was to be a double-treat because my sister would also be there at the time, with a friend, and subsequently we all had a merry time looking in my mother's studio at her latest artwork.

I'll show you some of her work here.

And I'll also show you the particular antique which caused a complete scandal...

Anyhoo, so I set off down the Interstate to make the trek to her house. On the way, I spotted a large cattle truck toodling down the highway. And, being the photograph hound that I am, I thought to myself: "Self, why not get a picture of this neat cow truck? Maybe those are some wimpy "big city" cows and you can show their picture to Podunk's good ole cows for a laugh, right?"

The situation appeared safe enough---I was about 85 feet from the truck and there wasn't much traffic on the road---and so I speeded up and started following it, swerving around wildly on the highway in an effort to get just the right shot with my camera---hoping like hell that there were no cops around to ticket me for tailgating or driving recklessly. And to my glee, and also due to my infamous Road Nurse Driving Skills, I finally caught up with the cattle truck---and angled myself sufficiently close enough to get a really good picture.

And it was then that I came up with The Bohemian Road Nurse's First Rule of the Road...

(I've always meant to write a "Road Nurse Rulebook" but just hadn't gotten around to it yet. But I guess I may as well start it now since I discovered this first rule--- which is also the most important rule.)

Road Nurse Rule No. One:

Never---and I mean NEVER-- get this close to a cattle truck when the damn cows are loaded in there with their butts facing towards the OUTSIDE of their truck stalls.

Because....their damn poop WILL fly onto your damn windshield, blocking your damn view and causing you to nearly have a damn accident and kill your stupid self on the damn Interstate Highway...

...which would be the SINGLE MOST EMBARASSING WAY FOR A ROAD NURSE TO DIE---- ON HER OWN DAMN HIGHWAY....

Those damn cows--- I think they did it on purpose because I had an argument with a hefer from Austin the other day...

(And everybody knows that an Austin hefer is a complete idgit and couldn't tell it's own butt from a hole in the ground...)

Anyway, after I stopped saying the word "damn", I kept on driving up the highway, and a couple hours later I made it to my mother's house without further mishap. And as soon as I stepped into her home's threshold I breathed a huge, pleasurable sigh of relief.....

Aaaaaahhhh...... my mother's house.....

She had made some amazing new mosaic art. What's even more amazing is that she cuts the mosaic tiles and mirrors herself. She haunts second-hand shops and antique stores for vintage china, crockery, colored glass, mirrors, and colorfully patterned dishes---which she then breaks up and cuts into mosaic tile shapes with a weird looking saw. She painstakingly cuts all that stuff into tiny,intricate pieces which she then arranges into her mosaics. She also uses "found objects" like antique jewelry, metal objects, beads, and other things to incorporate into her work. She grouts the mosaics herself with various colors of grout---and the results are always breathtaking. I'll show you some pics of her of some of her work.

Oh, and also, she had made something new for me---a "medically themed" piece---a mosaic'd crutch---which thrilled me no end! I love it so much that I am beside myself over where to hang it. It was meant to be hung upon the wall in my office at work but I love it so much that I've decided to hang it here in my apartment instead (where I am fortunate to have many other lovely things she's made me. )

Here's the crutch. It's mosaic'd but also decorated with glass flowers, mirrors, and gold tassles:

And here's a neat piece she sculpted and then mosaic'd which she keeps on a buffet in her dining room---I think it's cool.

And here's a mosaic'd tea set which sits at the foot of her bed--- where she has her afternoon tea. (Notice the "Southern Living" magazine---I told you she was a Southern Belle.)

As I mentioned, she also collects antiques. She has very good taste, but it's ecclectic. She likes a variety of styles, such as European, American, Middle Eastern---modern and primitive. And sometimes she likes to collect interesting objects such as Russian icon boxes, Middle Eastern daggers.....or religious art.

It was a piece of religious art which caused the scandal.

It happened one day at a tea-party. A group of ladies from the town's largest and most conservative Baptist church had come over to her home and, as usual, asked for a tour of her home after the tea party. As they toured, they suddenly spotted one of her latest antique acquisitions, and I will leave it to your imagination to figure out the reactions of the town's most upstanding (and prudish) church-ladies to...a...er.... wall cherub.....(yep, that's it, up there on the wall, the little guy with the rather large, vivid red genitals).....

Um...and in case you'd like a closer look....

The resulting scandal will, I'm certain, most likely be told in Baptist Church Legend and Lore, down throughout the ages. The way I heard the story, it was one of the Church Deacons' wives, Mrs. Myriam-Esther Fligit, who, upon spying the unclothed cherub, tried to look away quickly in order to avoid appearing interested in what locals call "nekkid-ness"---but in her shock she stumbled and almost fell to the floor. She had turned pale as a ghost and became so weak in the knees that she almost fainted. But she was quickly revived by the other church ladies who fanned her vigorously with one of the art books lying on a shelf nearby. The poor woman was so utterly mortified that she never did quite regain her pink color, but I heard that she was able to compose herself and continue the tour with some degree of dignity, although I heard a rumor later that she had run right home afterwards to read Bible verses pertaining to "if thine eye offends thee" or some such (although I'm not sure that the rumor is true---Texans do like to exaggerate sometimes)....

(And I also heard that another one of the church ladies, Miss Ginny-Belle Ledbetter, suddenly disappeared during the tour and, to her chagrin, was caught in the act of gazing pointedly at the cherub's scarlet genitals---but this carnal sin wasn't gossiped about too very badly because, after all, she is a spinster--- and has most likely never even SEEN any male nekkid-ness; and thus, her curiousity is certainly understandable.)

I always love to visit my mother. I'm going to go back real soon.