ourmawgeemoments
our Mawgee moments
Nefertiti, R. Belljar and the one and only Mawgee
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Paddling. For me.
The Revisit
The clashing of the extremes.
One to another.
They’re like a sour yolk mixed with sweet milk.
Most can’t take it-
But I know I can.
And when I’m out there I forget
Whatever brought me to the state I’m in.
Yet I still do this to myself.
But wait,
A thought interrupts this so called confusion
I smudge out my strong cigarette
And pour out the flat beer I’ve been nursing
And do you know what I do?
I laugh over that glassy surface
I pull joy out from the serenity of the trickling sound in my left ear
It follows me around the bend and disappears
Innocent silence tugs my rear
I shove away each and every discomfort with a paddle
It comes back around in the triangle form of my arms
And traces a beam of purity in front of me
There is nothing that can prove these moments wrong
And I will never try to
For these are the moments where I’m finally at peace
When the mountainside finally hugs me back
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A different word for each letter for this word.
S
E
R
E
N
D
I
P
I
T
Y
And go!
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dancing with cats - burton silver + heather busch (1999)
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Ahhhhh, Nefertiti, what a piece of work! Like you, she immediately captured my heart and my soul. Such a beautiful mess. She was me. Well not me... I'm Mawgee, she is not, but still, I am her and she is me.
I was about 57 when she entered the world I was in at the time and because she is nearly 16 years younger than I am, I could have been her very young mother. There are those that thought I was. My reaction to those that thought so was....warm and fuzzy and the idea of it strangely delighted me.
It delighted me because I liked imagining that if I were her mother neither one of us would have found ourselves in the place we were at when our world's intersected. The reality tho is that the universe provides and it provided us each other.
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Mawgees Word: “react”
Reactions Three Fold
1 fold: I’ve met this girl. Now I’ll tell you, my dear readers, I haven’t learned so many personal takes on myself than I have since I met her. Through the slippery slope leading up to this point, I thought I had myself figured out. I walked around confident as hell that I knew everything about me that I was ever going to know. Yeah, those cynical opinions on the philosophies I avoided, were really things I was too afraid of diving into. It’s classic human nature to be unnerved by things you don’t know anything about; things that seem bigger than you; like the darkest night sky when you stare too long at it.
I could get off topic here with the things I’m ignorantly afraid of. But I won’t, because I know I’ll approach them because of her. Oh, the patience she’s taught me to have for myself.. I could go on and on. I consider myself spiritual, but when I say the word I feel uncomfortable. Especially when she was so comfortable and confident in the natural connections between the universe and the birth of all of our souls. As usual my reaction to this was a stinky face. She blew by it as if she knew this was step number one. I’ve always poked fun at the dedication and belief system with birth signs; as if that has anything to do with our lives and how we live them. These philosophies made me turn up my nose and smirk. I despise being put in a box.
My new friend, let’s call her Nef, ignored my reactions. Because I’m empathetic I drunk it all in because of her passion and love for it. I’d pretend for a night I could feel the passion she was feeling. I did this for the first few times we hung out. Until I really did feel it. I’d do anything for her, I knew that from the start, and because I wanted to share her love for something she believed in, I felt it too. Through challenging myself to explore something I’m afraid of, I learned it wasn’t unreachable to sit back and whole heartedly feel that this seemingly fluffy and far-fetched philosophy was the one thing in this universe that connects us all. It wasn’t something that put me in a box, it was something that would help me climb out of it.
2 folds: Reactions are a funny thing. I rebuttal slowly, I’ve realized. Watching her snap back a witty comment to a question or statement is truly something to me. I love seeing people’s shocked reactions when she says the unexpected. I’ve never seen someone be so aggressive yet endearing at the same time.
3 folds: She mentioned she acted in theatre. Most would boast, if they were even slightly as talented as she is. I’m sure she knows, she has to. You’re never too far past any point to do something you love to do. I’d love her to RE-ACT. Act again. In my head it sounded better.
Thank you, Nefertiti, for your non-reactions tomy reactions, teaching me how to react, and always doing and saying things for everyone’s reaction.
R. Belljar
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Eel Waiter
Serving defeat over your morning breath
Followed by a simple afternoon of simple nothings and no spoons
Spaghetti for dinner with defeat sauce and again no spoon
You’ll tell me there’s nothing I can’t ruin
I miss when I would swoon
Buy telescopic ciggy holders
And listen to swing tunes
Saxophones I’d probably date
Killed the breath I breathed with hate
Bagged exhale, day old socks
Hair locks in the mail
Everything is for sale
Not again will I go way back when
When I’d hide from your black drums
And run with no shoes or plan
R. Belljar
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This girl is really new at this tumbler thing so I have asked some friends to drop me a word or ask me a question so I have a topic and the word I got is, Mawgee. No question, just the word.
It is a unique word, made up, much like the word "olebagitis" which plainly describes a condition that my peers and myself occasionally deal with. I like made up words, they are hella descriptive. More on my most popular made-up word later. For now we focus on Mawgee.
I am of the era where friends would gather around the kitchen table with a beverage that was appropriate for the time of day, while we visited with each other. If the visit was during school hours we generally had coffee and made plans. Who was working when, who was picking the kids up from school and most importantly, what we were going to do on the weekend.
Whatever we did on the weekends, it likely involved babysitters and adult beverages. Those coffee visits determined who was hosting dinner, whose house the kids were going to and most importantly, if we were going dancing or sitting around a bonfire telling stories and putting the world to rights. Life was good.
There was one night in particular where we learned about a friend who was diagnosed with a terminal illness and that got us talking about what we would do if it happened to one of us. One of my friends daughter and my son were inseparable from a very young age and she suddenly became very serious and said "if anything happens to me I want you to take my daughter as your own". I said that I felt likewise about her and my son.
Time passed, the kids grew up but not apart. They promised each other at a tender age that they would be each others date at their graduations and that promise was kept. Their respective boyfriend and girlfriend were warned and accepted that they would be sitting that evening out.
Shortly after that my friend was diagnosed with early onset dementia and ended up in a home with no memory of her daughter. Those were tough days. Unbeknownst to me, my friend told her daughter about that campfire promise that we made to each other all those years ago and just before my friend passed away, her daughter became pregnant.
On the day she shared her news with my son and I, she reminded me of that promise and formally and emotionally asked me if I would be a grandmother to her child. I loved that girl with my whole heart and didn't hesitate, I was honored that she asked and instantly agreed. My son beamed with pride to become this child's uncle and what a loving uncle he is.
So, I have a chosen daughter and a beautiful, strong minded (like her mother) granddaughter! Then came a fairly simple question that caused a great deal of thought. That simple question was "what do you want to be called"?
My granddaughter has a living grandmother on her fathers side and my friend also deserved the title of grandma or granny or Nana, so what would be appropriate for this situation?
Someone suggested gma, kind of an abbreviated grandma, I didn't like it at all so it was time to find a made-up word and it didn't take very long for me to switch it up so that I can introduce myself to you and whomever comes along as Mawgee.
I am honored and delighted to be called Mawgee by my beautiful daughter, my son-in-law and cannot wait until my darling little Miss P starts talking so I can hear her call me by my chosen name!
I am so grateful every day for this gift of love that my friend bestowed upon my son and I and truly wish that everyone could experience being chosen in this way 💝🌻💝
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Word: box
I’ll be complex with it. While open-mouth choking on the wind riding full speed down the main trails of my life lately, I gather trinkets from unmemorable moments. Into a box here and there, they are stored in order to draw out a timeline of disorder. Nothing is important until I make it that way. These boxes haven’t been opened in the past as frequently as they have been as of late. Am I trying to spill out parts of me that demonstrate my sporadic and nonsensical behaviour? Am I coming off pretentious or is the irony of my meaningless trophy’s shining through as irony?
R. Belljar
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Word: box
Yanno.. thinking about boxes pulled a memory. So, I survived a 40 year marriage. Details are not necessarily important to this story other than to say that my social circle was very small and chosen for me.
One of my approved friends was someone I will call Sarah...she suddenly married a man named Ralph. She was, and is, a very sloppy drunk and very materialistic.
He is the kind of man that would kill a crow and hang it from a tree to warn all the other crows to stay away. Funnily enough, it seemed to work. He was also very chauvinistic and the roles were very strictly defined.
Sarah never did anything for nothing, not even for him. There was a tip jar beside their bed and he had to put money into it anytime he wanted a blow job or sexual activity of any kind. He was quite happy to do so! This I never understood...
Well, yanno how couples have pet names for each other like honey, lovey, pumpkin, pudding etcetera? Ralphs pet name for Sarah was IRONBOX!!!!!
Sigh....
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Word: box
Box, boxes, boxy, boxers....where to start. Not all boxes are square, they have many shapes, heights,depths and purposes. They are used to transport,store, hide and protect. You put things in them and you can think outside them.
As a child of the military, boxes have always been an important part of my life. There is quality to boxes, and I prefer the top shelf variety. Not those acquired at the local liquor store nor those (unless it's a banana box) acquired at the grocery store, they melt. I will always opt for the corrugated kind. They stand the test of time.
Speaking of time, time is a concept and as the parent of a special needs child I had to learn to think outside the box to teach things like time that cannot be touched, tasted, smelled or seen. That's an ability that has kept me in good shape in areas other than the parent child dynamic.
Speaking of shapes.....never tell a woman that she is boxy looking.She just might haul off and punch you right in your face!
Speaking of punches, Mike Tyson is a boxer as was George Foreman. I think I prefer George as he helped me to make yummy food for my family as opposed to Mike who like a dog bit the ear (or a portion thereof) off of his opponent .
Finally, speaking of dogs, I love boxers!!!
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Ok...used the microphone and it auto corrected mawgee to Margie...hate that ....ask me why I am called mawgee!
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Hey everyone this is Mawgee speaking hope you enjoy joining us for some of our Mawgee moments cuz this girl thinks out of the box. Been on the earth for a long freaking time and there ain't much that you can say or do that will shock this old bird. Come on down and ask me a question. I'll tell you no lies or drop me a word and I'll tell you a story 💖🌻💖
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