#15 Night Blush


By today’s standards, my mother was a frequesnt, yet mild, cusser.  Six feet tall with the countenance of a queen, whatever she said, including many, mostly risqué sayings, came off as imperious truth.   For instance, if she were looking at the dying bud in this painting by Marissa Bridge, her comment would be, ‘That one shot his wad.’

Without questioning how appropriate or not they might be in polite company, I adopted her colorful cliches.  Once, after an exhausting day of gardening, in front of a chaste friend who entertained fantasies about the nasty demands and virtues of purity, my long-gone mother spilled from my lips.  I flopped into a cushy chair and said, ‘I shot my wad.’

As if he swallowed rotten meat, horror struck the muscles of my friend’s mouth.  The phallic interpretation had never entered my mind.  Thereafter, my inherited mother’s raucous voice remains mostly in check.  And today, I would express the demise of this short-lived orchid bud as ‘Going gently into the night.’


One thought on “#15 Night Blush

  1. I personally think the most honest of people are the ones who let a sincere expletive roll off their tongue and call a scenario for what it is in more colorful terms. Thanks for another beautiful post and amazing painting!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s