Saturday, November 15, 2014

The Marmalade Madame

I found myself slipping on an old banana peel of a habit, but was reminded to reach for something to tickle me free from that old bugaboo. I found something to write myself out from behind those old blinders ... it helped a lot, and maybe it will do the same for you. Figuring this is my birthday gift, I'll leave behind a shriveled habit needing to be recycled and share this tickled story to all my readers with a special thanks to jt for reminding me where to find the light switch.

"How'd you two get together?" I suppose that's a common question for people to ask a couple they're just getting to know. At least I've heard the question often enough.

"I dreamed him up." That's what I tell most people, though sometimes I hold my cards close to the chest and if Pete's around I give him the eye and he unrolls his version of the story which usually starts with standing at a kitchen sink in Mukilteo one Christmas time long before we were conscious of Cupid's design for us. Not every one deserves to hear the pearls of a story like me dreaming up the love of my life. When a crusty reptile like me shares the product of her psyche she doesn't want the blank stare of dis-appreciation or the eye roll of ... what does the eye roll signal?

"Oh it's that too too serious horse-with-the-blinkers making a judgment on people giving an opinion," from out of the blue and between the spaces comes the Marmalade Madame. There is nothing subtle or compromising about the three foot tall dame of fame, no, infamy, who has shown up to add her dollar bill. Ablaze with a freshly tweaked version of orange hair my faery godmother shows up at the most unexpected times. The orange-haired one continued, "It's your birthday tomorrow. I'd have thought you were expecting me. What with all the others bound to be here with their gifts, and their distractions before the next sunset. I wanted to beat them to the punch." My faery godmother is so very different than the tall, bronze and braided Max with the wool coat and bowler hat. As different as sun and moon or summer and winter, the Marmalade Madame stands stoutly three feet in her spikey leather boots, made especially for her remarkable frame. Her feet are large -- broad and very long for the height of her. "The better for me to stand the ground upon which I love to leap about on. See, the heels of this particular model are fashioned with a spring." She stopped in her original expository and demonstrated the incredible lift potential in the spikes. With a downward thrust the heels drew into two long paddles and the flaming orange hair was airborne the paddles serving as rudders on an airship from the pages of Terry Pritchett's imagination. At that elevation her short and bejeweled fingers become navigational buttons; ruby for right rudder and she will move accordingly; emeralds (on both left and right thumbs) will level her off; the diamond on her left pinkie is reserved for emergency Frappaccino stops at Starbucks (She claims to be cutting back on coffee, but she lies.) To land The Marm as I love to call her does the Dorothy gig, which can be challenging in a brisk wind. And if ever an unsuspecting observer in the right light seeing her attempting a landing will tell you, the sight is one that could cause irreversible damage to your Serious Bone. That in short is really what my faery god mother was here for. I've already seen her in action up high and in the sky.

Most of her charges, she has many, are fixed of the Serious Habit after viewing her in that elevated state. But. There are some like me who need regular Funny Bone maintenance. The Marmalade Madame had come to do mine. I think she believes there's always room for breaking out of the old boxes, and lubricating the Funny Bone can never be done too often. She's laughing at me right this minute you know. She does it never to mock me, but to join in. Right before the sun returns to the spot in the sky when I came through the birth canal. "It's really alright to have born purple. It's the reason you so prefer the color in your garments, makes you feel to home."
The color of Marmalade to inspire the Marmalade Madam's freshly tweaked hair.
CLICK for a recipe for Kumquat Marmalade just for the fun of it!

It's the gift I needed most from someone who has been watching for a very long time. Probably been watching before I wore this face that was at first so purple. Anyway, it's a winding tale to answer the question about how I dreamed up the love of my life. But then, did you have anything better to do? No.  Well then, we have just had a bit of a romp and I'm glad of it.

Hugs to The Marmalade Madame, and thanks!

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