An Email Smile

Just got this email from hubby in Korea:

"I must say one thing I am going to have to go on a diet this next two weeks and do exercise as the trips are just one big eating orgy. There are big lunches and dinners, you remember our Taiwan experience where we hoped we could take a break from eating for three days or so because of the constant large meals. The Koreans always seem to have about four surges of food in addition to all the little side dishes they bring out. The food has really been good but they always want me to try new things so I overeat. My clothes still fit OK but I know I am heavier. "

The Punch List

I have been living (at least on weekends) in my new house for almost 18 months now. As with any new house, there is always what the builder calls a punch list that is reviewed when the house is 99% done. The punch list is a list of items that the builder or the owner identify as corrections to mistakes or things that need to be finished but were overlooked. They usually get done prior to the final payment or within a month after the final payment.

Since my husband and I are relatively easy going and have made our final payments, there are still a few things that need to be done. I am not worried because the builder's subcontractor is free-lancing by finishing our basement. He has said he will get to these items and he is a reasonably nice guy, so I trust him. I also find that my karma gets really crappy if I turn into one of those bitchy homeowners that feel it is necessary to get in the contractors face every time I see him, when I see that he IS doing work. As a side comment we are actually having the basement finished based on a handshake, an estimate that is not in writing and by writing checks every now and then when asked. I do not recommend that homeowners do this in real life, but it seems to be working for us.

ANYWAY, one of the items on my punch list is that foyer light above. The larger light in the foreground was hung quite high with the builder's brother telling me that was necessary to allow a decorative view from outside the front door when it was on at night. There was a spot light over that window that fell on that small landing below---this landing is found in many new homes and is a totally useless feature added by architects for you to place totally useless decorative crap that you could not reach to dust without endangering yourself.

This foyer light in the foreground was found after much searching in several light stores and catalogs for something large enough in size and with a style that fit with my "pseudo-Tuscan" approach. The light was found hanging in a corner of one of the larger light fixture stores covered in dust. Naturally the builder hung it with all the dust still intact! When I explained to the builder that the foyer light was so damn high even my husband could not reach it to clean it or replace bulbs with his two story ladder and that it needed to be lowered, this led to me purchasing a similar light (from a totally different company) that hung directly in front of the window where the ceiling spot was. (WE RARELY USE THIS SECOND LIGHT!)

Now I continue to see my foyer light dusty and with one burned-out bulb hanging at the same height as if in some vacant house. I wait patiently for them to lower it at least two feet. They keep saying they will get to it. I will keep those blogreaders who are on the edge of their seat about this challenge posted.

Just Rewards!

Thursday Thoughts #10--Lies - Black and White

1. Do you tell your husband that you threw out the year-old toaster with the broken plastic knobs and bought a brand new one that cost three times as much, or do you just hope he doesn't notice when he gets back from his travels? (In my self defense the old/new toaster buttons could only be turned with a fish hook remover thingy which no longer opens regardless of my extensive efforts and use of four letter words.)
   
   
2. Do you tell your daughter that her foolish husband was throwing Xman up into the air and then came so close to missing catching him that the kid almost landed head first on the sidewalk and one came away crying and one came away almost crying? (Heart attack city my friends.)
   
   
3. Should you feel guilty for blowing off the last two hours after your doctor's appointment when you should have been driving back to work instead of home? (Who am I kidding?)
   
   
4. Is it a lie when you tell your doctor that you drink a glass of wine in the evening when it is usually closer to 2 or 3 glasses?
   
   
5. Are you being foolish when you fail to tell your son-in-law that you have second degree burns on the palm of your hand from that DAMN frying pan while you continue to pretend you can get dinner on the table, juggle the baby and sooth Xman like clockwork? (Second degree burns and now waiting for blisters.)
   
   
6. Are you really unprofessional in leaving the room to rush to a "meeting" as you ignore a 50-year-old "colleague" who still giggles incessantly and says awesome every 15 minutes.
   
   
7. When someone tells you that you look way too young to retire...is it dishonest to pretend you are surprised at their surprise?
   
   
8. I don't have anymore...guess I am not as dishonest as I thought.
   
   

Little House Life Story #13

Living on a remote island in the middle of the vast Pacific Ocean requires depending on your resourcefulness almost all the time. The stores in Micronesia were very similar to the old-fashioned one-stop store in "Little House on the Prairie." You could buy almost everything in one of these stores, but there wasn't much of anything at any one time.

There were a few canned goods, a few types of hardware, a little fresh produce. One had to be very resourceful to identify what was useful. You could never predict what you might find in the store. But, interestingly enough, due to the proximity to Asia and India there were bolts and bolts of summer fabric: fabric of all types, colors and weaves. Fabric did not spoil or damage easily on the long boat ride to Guam and the trans-shipment to Palau. There was always a selection of colorful bolts to peruse. If you could sew, you could fill your days with making things.

In one of my recent blogs I mentioned how I made clothes for my baby girl out of fabric scraps. Well I pretty much had to sew everything I wanted out of these tropical patterns. The photo above shows a cover that I made for my bamboo furniture in our little apartment when the original fabric wore out. I am sure that I found this quite the interior design solution.

If you keep reading, you will notice that the fabrics in the photo below are the same as the one on my baby girls outfit. This is a photo of the bedroom. Yes, the bedroom! I must have loved the pattern. I am sure that I thought it was very stylish and a wonderful example of creative interior decorating.

I must have had absolutely no taste after years of living on a remote tropical island. Geeese!!

Three Day Weekend

Hubby is in Korea for a month or so and I am alone (except for noisy and nice contractors finishing the basement) at the house on the weekends. It is VERY odd being able to do anything I want, eat anything I want, watch anything I want for days...a VERY odd feeling.

During this wonderful respite I decided that it was time for another "Lifestory" blog. I was going through old slides and albums for ideas and then came across this photo of my husband and some islanders during one of his many island hopping jaunts when we lived in Micronesia.

I had to scan and post this because the picture tells a story or two if you look closely---no, my hubby is not gay---he is the most unselfconscious, unpretentious person I know and is totally relaxed with his body. Instead, look at the two island boys and imagine what they are thinking and saying. I am sure they had never seen reef shoes. Then look at how the other islander is dressed and also his body language. A thousand words in this photo, right?

The Ongoing Education

Once again Tabor is getting an education in life. I guess it means we are still alive if we can still learn.

I have recently (re) learned the following:

1) When you receive a call from one of those little people that starts with "I go poo poo in potty." you still react with the same manic enthusiasm you did when you had little tykes of your own. Obsession with pee pee and poo poo goes on and on from generation to generation.

2) Potty training means a child may wake up in the middle of the night several times screaming that he needs to go to the potty.

3) Watching a child bounce off the walls due to too much Valentine's Day chocolate and candy is almost as frightening as a Stephen King movie scene.

4) The reason they are called the Terrible Twos is because the child can be really, really, really terrible---behavior that one expects in an insane asylum comes to mind.

5) It is definitely time for mom to feed the toothless one when the toothless one starts grabbing food off of my plate and then commences screaming when I pull the plate away and lick her hands that are full of my mashed sweet potatoes.

6) At day care little girls are little girls---hugging and hanging on to X-man and little boys are little boys--- running around the room casting glances as they try to impress the visiting grandma.

7) Being around small children brings to mind the same question I ask about Presidential candidates...Why would anyone in their right mind volunteer for this!

8) The answer to #7 is that you are in love with the idea, the process and the result.

Happiness is Overrated

The February 11 issue of Newsweek has an article titled "Happiness: Enough Already." The gist of the article is that melancholia "generates 'a turbulence of heart that results in an active questioning of the status quo, a perpetual longing to create new ways of being and seeing." And the authors conclude that this is a good thing. In other words if you are perpetually happy you no longer long for anything and become constipated, boring, and coasting through life. Some of the article is based on a new book coming out - "Rethinking Happiness" by a father and son team --the Dieners.

Since I have not read the book, I cannot comment on it. But I do tend to agree with the Newsweek article on the popularity in our society of medicating anyone who finds themselves depressed. The clinical definition of depression is too easy to fit most of us at many times in our lives. Medicating this feeling away seems to me a false approach to growth and understanding. Yes, there are people who become suicidal and therefore need medical intervention. But too many of us in our wealthy and self-stimulated society are taking pills to avoid normal pain, to pretend that feeling depressed is not natural.

Pain/depression is a lesson. It tells us something is wrong. It tells us we must step back and move in a new direction. It reminds us that we cannot make it alone in this world and we should turn to those who love us for help. It tells us we are alive and when we begin that time of happiness (and it will come) -- great or small -- we will only fully appreciate it if we can contrast it with the sadness. We can also be more emphathetic and understanding of others' sadness when we take time to go through our own periods of the blues.

The cliche that great art results from great sadness seems to be true. Therefore, will our society not produce any great works of art because we are counting out pills from a bottle with each hiccup in our life's path?

I also think that if our society accepted mild depression or sadness as a temporary transition rather than a permanent setback, we would have fewer suicides. If we accepted that folks are going to be gloomy for a little longer than we like, than we would be more tolerant of their struggles. We need a little patience in this solve-it-in-24-hours-so-we-can-get-on-with-our-lives. We need to hold their hands and see if they can turn it around. We need to remind them of the good times or share our good times. We need to be patient. It is a fine line, but if we follow our instincts we will know the difference.

As Lucy would say, that will be 5 cents please.

Contrasts

This special doll belonged to me at one time long ago. I could not leave the room without her crawling speedily behind me almost causing an accident if I stepped back too quickly. Her little green and navy sundress is one of many that I made from scraps of materials I had. Almost all of her clothes were homemade because we lived on an island that had no clothing stores. Most of the native children ran around naked anyway...so she was the most overdressed. Thirty-some years later, HER little girl, on the other hand, has literally three or four very large plastic containers filled with hand-me-downs in pristine condition in all sizes that will last for years to come.

Little Bag of Tricks

Anna at Self-Winding found this link which is such a good fit following my earlier post.

Don't Think Too Far Ahead

I am probably not the most upbeat person to be around. I do love life and I do find each day an adventure, but I am one of those people who is always thinking too far ahead.

For example, when my daughter was a baby, each time I nursed her, I would think sadly about the day I would have to start weaning her. Then when she became a toddler I would get sad thinking about the day that she would head off to school and how I would miss our hours together. Then, as you can probably guess, the years in junior high for both of my children were filled with my thoughts about the empty nest when they would head out to college and their bedrooms would be filled with dusty prom trinkets and forgotten basketball photos.

I really do try hard to live in the moment. I certainly think that is the healthiest way to get the richness out of each day. Having written that though, it seems I am always hardening myself to what I am going to miss when something good comes to an end. I can remember an really odd moment during (probably) desert storm in the 1980s when I saw a handsome and healthy group of sailors at DisneyWorld on leave. They were having a wonderful time. I was sitting at a table with the family eating a hotdog and suddenly tears filled my eyes and my hotdog became a lump of clay in my throat because I thought about what they would soon be facing. I was embarrassed needless to say, and my husband tried to make light of it so that the kids wouldn't misunderstand.

I really try to be an upbeat person...I am sure that is what my family would say...

International Gifts

We have a weekend visitor from Korea. He is in charge of a marine laboratory in Korea and while visiting my husband also will be visiting relatives living nearby. As Asians always do, he brought a lovely gift and presented it with gracious charm. The box itself was first wrapped in a silver-gray scarf with writing that meant something about power (?). When I accepted the gift I was surprised at how heavy it was. It is about 2 feet by 1.5 feet in size. He carried this all the way on his trip! When I accepted the gift I am sure it weighed 15 pounds!! Inside is a very beautiful assortment of Korean sweets. Far more than my husband and I could ever eat. We will share at dinner tonight and I will also share some with my grandson who may enjoy them. Now we have to think of something nice for my husband to take on his trip back next month...

The Sweet Sadness

I am sitting alone in my room watching the first feathery light flakes of a new snow drift onto the gray shingles of the roof outside my window. In the background I can hear the sweet sad horn of Chris Botti playing on the stereo. I had been to a concert of his recently and remembered that I had not listened to his wonderful music in a long while and pulled out the three CDs I own.

Today is one of those days of strange dichotomies. I am lonely and yet savoring it. I am sad for no reason but know that this sadness can only be appreciated because my cup overflows with happiness. I feel the pace of my breath and heart slowing to a rhythmic peace in sync with this silver gray day. This sadness is bittersweet. This melancholy is the one side of the whole that keeps me from flying off into space.

I am savoring 'Empress of China" tea in a cup I had made with my daughter at a pottery place a number of years ago. It is an ugly green and purple and thus fits completely with the strange day.

I know that part of this strange feeling is the nearness of my retirement. I have told the important people at work and therefore solidified this leap. In the spring, I will be retired. No matter what angle I look at this, it is another milestone in my life. It is another major corner turned. It is like a gift that I have been given, but it is like a large beautiful bowl in which I must find beautiful things to place. There is a real danger of filling the bowl with bits of flotsam and jetsam.

This milestone also means that I have definitely moved away from those parts of living that meant so much. There is no innocence, there is no pureness, life is what it is. When the bowl is full there is no more pleasure in finding new things to place there. At the very end, there are only old memories after all. All the fresh new memories will be made by those that follow us.

It is sad, but it is also wonderfully sweet this little bit of life we have been given.

The Lost and the Losers

I think I am not going gently into that good night as I age. I was made aware of the following yesterday and today which showed I am getting old and no longer fit:

Mr. Jobs in introducing his new tools said (among other things):
…Today he had a wide range of observations on the industry, including the Amazon Kindle book reader, which he said would go nowhere largely because Americans have stopped reading.

“It doesn’t matter how good or bad the product is, the fact is that people don’t read anymore,” he said. “Forty percent of the people in the U.S. read one book or less last year. The whole conception is flawed at the top because people don’t read anymore.”

Last night as I watched television with my two college educated young relatives, I suggested watching the presidential debates and was told that they wanted to watch the two-hour episode of “The Biggest Loser” which we did. Yes, this is a pun in so many ways.

The cherry on the top is that we will be implementing a new security policy in our office where we will need to change our network password every 60 days and it must be 12 (yes 12) characters in length and use upper case, lower case, numbers and symbols. Does anyone think this will reduce security on our PCs other than me for the OBVIOUS reasons?

The Tear

It came so fast.
It was so unpredicted
In eyes that had been dry for what seemed forever.
It flowed across the hollow
And held and glistened.
All the others in the room held their breath,
Concerned and maybe even afraid.
It was as if this sudden precipice
Meant illumination or darkness,
And yet it may have determined
A presidency.

Dancing?

It has been wonderful to get outside with the little ones. Angel wiggles and tries to fly away in my arms as the warm wind caresses her face. It is the middle of January and we three dance across the crunchy leaves...I can't help but think in the very back of my mind that we are dancing at the earth's funeral.

Winter Tastebud Sharpening

Soon in the middle of the rest of this span of short gray days, the colorful catalogs will start arriving. They will be shocking in their brilliance and seduce us once again into purchasing joy for the spring season. I am writing about the seed and plant catalogs, of course. My husband will look forward to the heirloom plants and think about planting his 'half acre' of tomatoes.

Because of my Italian heritage, tomatoes have played a very important role in my dietary preferences. As you may know, if you also love tomatoes, during this time of year (actually during all but the late summer and early fall months) the stores are filled with red orbs that are labeled as tomatoes, but taste like cardboard and have the texture of mushy apples surrounded by a hard gelatenous layer. I have discovered an acceptable substitute in the grape (and sometimes) the cherry tomatoes. These grape tomatoes (the size and shape of grapes, duh) are sweeter and while not excellent, have a touch of the essence of tomato.

I got a Nigella Lawson cookbook for Christmas from my daughter, (Yes she is that lovely and voluptuous--stop drooling guys-- and a wonderful chef as well.) and we decided to check out the tomato recipes and found this recipe below. I have to paraphrase since I left the book at my daughter house.


Preheat oven to 450 degrees. (232.2222222 degree Celsius)
Slice tomatoes (as many as you want) (large tomatoes need more chopping)
Set in large baking pan or dish and drizzle olive oil over all
Chop an herb (basil, oregano or the recipe called for thyme)
Sprinkle herb, kosher salt and a tiny bit of sugar over all. (you can also add pepper to taste)
Pop in the oven and turn the oven off
Leave in for about 12 hours.
Enjoy in so many ways--spread on toast, in salad or eat them like popcorn as I do.



The flavor or the tomato is very concentrated yet they are still a little juicy and less chewy unlike the dried tomato. The recipe allows use of regular tomatoes, but I think that cherry or grape are the best even though slicing them in half takes a little time. If you crave that tomato taste in the winter, as I do, I think you will like this. Let me know what you think if you try it.

PS--While these can be stored in the refrigerator...they must reach room temperature or be gently heated for best flavor.

2008

The Day Before Christmas

My birthday was the 21st and I went out to dinner with my family and that is where I think I caught this awful head cold. I spent the better part of the dinner wiping Xman's runny nose. In spite of this, he was on his best behavior and the dinner went very nicely and my fish dish was excellent. We ordered a chocolate waffle for dessert and almost couldn't finish it.

Last night the geese held one of their all night parties...due to the warm weather being brought up from the South I am guessing. They laughed and chatted and sang (honking with Christmas joy) until about 3:00. I got up to see what had silenced them and the moon was at its brightest and most lovely, casting strong shadows throughout the forest. It was almost as if daylight had begun!

I drifted back to sleep and in the early morning I set up one of my birthday gifts (a tripod) and went out on the deck and caught this photo of the late revelers heading out in an ever so dignified swim to the main part of the river just as the sun was peeking over the branches of the naked trees.

I am off now to finish the sticky buns for Christmas breakfast. We will have only my son this day as daughter is off to the in-laws for the holidays. My husband and I will be most mellow, but I am afraid that son will be bored to tears without his niece and nephew as buffers in the conversation. It will probably be like a Ben Stiller movie and I do hate those.

Hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday and that your expectations are so small that they all come true.

Dangerous Love

There are those women (girls) that fall head-long into love as if it was an endless pillow of cotton candy. They jump in arms wide and mouth open. Even as they see they are sinking to a dangerous point of no return, they do not regret the loss of control and they continue that sweet roll. Not this chickie-poo. While it was intense when I fell in love in my youth, I still had my feet touching the ground and my head was reasonably clear. I sometimes wish I had been the free spirit, free falling type of woman. The lady with the laugh in her eyes and the never-look-back attitude. But, I think that while my passion was not as abandoned neither was my pain as endless.

I have always been able to do two things at one time and while I was studying that sparkle in his eyes and the softness of his lips, I also kept track of exactly where I was standing in this dance. Girls who remain in control of themselves are not as sexy. They also make clear early in the relationship that they have expectations and we all know that men do not like expectations. Most men remain little boys all of their lives. There are a few grown-ups in the XY line, but they are as hard to live with as us females. I do not regret that I was careful in my approach to life, but I do sometimes wish I could have led that other life in another dimension without all its painful consequences...those which would be manifesting themselves in twinging ways as I reach the age I am now.

Yet once again as I age, I have learned something about myself. Everyone has their price. I have fallen head-long in love with the two little humans above. I have jumped in arms wide and mouth open. None of my feelings are being reserved for logical thinking. I know that the pain will be devastating when I am thrown aside for their other loves. The rejection will require numbing medicine and lots of staring into space. But this love is an overpowering, potent,inescapable passion. And I am going along for the ride for as long as it lasts.

Tagged by Maya

I like some memes and others are not as interesting. I have been tagged by Maya whose blog I read regularly, so I will play.

The Rules are as follows:
* Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
* Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.

(Being as this is a gray and cold day at Taborland, my meme responses below are a little moody...sorry.)

1. Anyone who met me would say I am a social butterfly, but I love being alone for long periods of time---days even.
2. Like Maya I loved reading science fiction as a young girl (Bradbury, Heinlin, Orwell, etc.) and to this day I am a big Star Trek fan. This is weird because if you met me you would never guess.
3. I never forget and sometimes never forgive. (I am working on it.)
4. I wish I could wear high heels --- for a few hours at least. Even as a feminist, I like the way they make my feet and legs look.
5. I wish I had the courage to stop dying my hair, but my artistic side can't stand how it will look all heathered gray.
6. I pierced my own ears when I lived overseas in myu 20's and now one of the holes is too large and I hate that, but am too lazy to do anything about it.
7. I let people get under my skin, which is a reflection of immaturity on my part. I don't think I will ever improve as I have started the 60's decade of my life and still let this happen.

3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

Tag--your it!!

Peruby
Grrlscientist
Mary FFF
Manababies
Hoss
Daily Warrior
Val

4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Now I will venture out and let them know.

Gender Motivation a Postscript

I have been mulling...and like a spiced wine, I am just a little bitter. I think I am attracted more to uniqueness because when I got old I realized (or at least THOUGHT) I would never again have any kind of power. Why try to pursue power and strength? It sounds like a race or a battle and I am not in any nature for that.

The older people I know who have power are pretty demanding and even manipulative. Many use guilt to hang on to this power. Therefore, I am being very female and attracted to 'uniqueness.' Uniqueness means I am closer to being the real me. The inner me, that maybe I don't even know.

My goal in the immediate (and perhaps distant) future is to find and nurture what is unique about me. This is going to be much harder than obtaining power! I don't even know where to begin. There must be some process. Making a list? Making a wish list? Meditating? Going on a fast? How DOES one find one's uniqueness to nourish?

Gender Motivation

I was doing a lot of driving yesterday and I was listening to my favorite radio channel (NPR). Helping me pass time in traffic was an interview with Judith Thurman about her new book "Cleopatra's Nose." Ms. Thurman's book is a collection of her essays in the New Yorker over the past 20 years. When asked by program host, Bob Edwards, about any insights she gained while reviewing the past 20 years of her work, she said that she discovered an interesting difference in the motivation of men versus women. She found that men are in pursuit of doing something important with their lives while women want to be seen as unique in what they do. This sounds quite true to me.

Allow me to gender generalize. Men want to be responsible for change, for completion of large projects, for being know as leading powerful directions in their professions. Women want to be seen as unique --- from other women in particular (since most cultures see them as women first and skilled or talented human beings second) as well as unique from both genders. We want to be special in some way by those we work with or those who love us. Most of us pursue this uniqueness in a good way. Of course, some women want uniqueness in their sexuality or beauty that makes them stand apart from other women---personally, I think that society has short circuited their minds from seeing the big picture.

Anyway, this concept makes sense as women, who were commodities and not human beings, needed to survive in the ancient days and their uniqueness was the only way they they could stand apart from all others. They did not have power or money to be a mover or changer and therefore, being unique was the key in many ways. Scheherazade comes to mind here. Remember her? That skill is still used by many mother's surviving endless days with sick toddlers

Grandma was remembered for her unique recipes or unique quilts. Mother was remembered for her unique birthday parties or landscaping. Today those skills can be translated in the workplace, but not yet to unique leadership skills. Hillary Clinton comes to mind here. She is unique in that she does what men have been doing for years. Her uniqueness is more of a threat to insecure woman and of course small-minded men.

Which is better. To want to do something important or to be unique?

Filling the Vacuum

There is a vacuity in my brain as I seem to learn many new things each day.

1. If you eat pomegranate at your desk at work your monitor screen looks as though you put a tiny slit in your throat by the time you have finished and red drops are sprayed everywhere else.

2. If you spill the peppercorns at home the two-year-old insists on helping with the vacuum and this can take a long, long, …very long time.

3. Even though as an adult with adult children you finally get to design an adult Christmas tree with all color-coordinated ornaments a la Martha Stewart, you must remember to purchase some that are unbreakable for little children to hang.

4. Three-month-old babies are perfectly capable of throwing nasty temper tantrums.

5. This generation of working mothers is phenomenal. Breast pump at 5:00 AM, out the door at 5:30 AM to help with Habitat for Humanity for your company, and then into the office at 10:00 AM!

6. This generation of working fathers is phenomenal. Flying in from St. Louis at 6::00 PM and heading directly to the office until midnight and then home and up at 6:00 AM to feed and clothe two little ones and get them off to day care and pre-school!

7. If you do some Christmas ornament shopping before Thanksgiving…World News Tonight will shove a camera in your face with the threat of showing the world how crappy you look when you shop on the weekends. I never saw myself on the TV…thank goodness…but the season is not yet over.

8. And finally, these do taste and look different when made according the recipes on each can.

Pre-Thanksgiving Thursday Thoughts

1) This is my favorite holiday because except for those watching their weight, it is a holiday that is non-exclusive to ones views---especially on politics or religion. Everyone seems to agree that we need to take the time off and be thankful for something. I am truly thankful.

2) I get to hostess the big feed at my house this year and that makes me feel warm and cozy all over. I know there will be years in the future where it will just be hubby and I and other years when cooking will not be possible for any number of reasons. I am truly thankful.

3) No unusual recipes will be tried. We are going traditional all the way (except for one small dish.) I am truly thankful.

a. (H’orderves: toast tips with salmon spread, grilled oysters on the half-shell, carrot sticks and dip.)
b. Roast turkey
c. Cranberry relish (which no one ever eats…but it IS a tradition)
d. Herb/sausage stuffing (wet and dry)
e. Garlic mashed potatoes
f. Sweet potato casserole
g. Green bean onion casserole
h. Spring greens salad
i. Pumpkin pie with whipped cream
j. Key lime pie
k. (I haven’t decided yet whether to have rolls…hate to have too few carbs at a feast such as this.)

4) Daughter is bringing a special Italian Barolo for just her and I to share. I am truly thankful.

5) My son did not respond to my email over a week ago asking if he was coming. So typical of him. I hope he does show up but he is a moody one. I am truly thankful that I at least have him in my life when he deems possible.

6) My favorite dish at Thanksgiving is my homemade stuffing although pumpkin pie with whipped cream runs a close second. Whoa, am I thankful!!

7) The long weekend will mean I have time to convert all those calories to fat and read all my favorite blogs. Am I thankful or what?

The Grass is Always Greener Life Story #12

A common disease among young mother's is brain meltdown. This disease manifests itself in many ways and has several symptoms. Some of the more common aberrations include inability to concentrate for more than 30 seconds on any one thought, using one's nose and sense of smell to determine all future actions from changing clothes to selecting food from the fridge, accepting spitup as an accessory for your wardrobe, and adapting to constant noise as the norm, thereby becoming jittery when there is no noise.

A great strength is the ability of young mother's to adapt to this disease. Your brain is melting and so you accept the fact that while you can still do two and even three things at one time, you often cannot put simple sentences together. While you can repair the most complicated train-track layout and successfully install teeny tiny batteries into even smaller places, you cannot remember where you placed your car keys or why you just ran upstairs leaving both small wonders to their own devices.

Ninety-nine percent of mothers live through the disease which can last for several years even. Society does not talk about the other 1%. Usually you know you are over the disease when you sit looking at your bare toes one day and have the urge to paint them; or you look in the mirror one morning and, in heart-attack horror, think you see your mother; or you walk back into a very quiet house and realize it is quiet because you are the only one there.

Thus, in a moment of idiocy, you feel you must start volunteering or go to work to pay those mounting bills. The house is too quiet and the hushing silence is getting on your nerves. It is too clean and you begin to think you are turning into Heloise.

Doing adult activities with other adults outside of the house begins to look inviting if not downright exotic, especially as it requires new clothes. (You have forgotten the Benjamin Franklin aphorism you learned in school: "Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.")

Mmmm..! Black nylons and a short skirt and cute high heels and a new haircut and you look almost sexy...wait isn't that what exposed you to the former disease in the first place? You push that thought to the back of your mind and put on make-up and nice pearl earrings and feel oh so grownup once again. Your brain even seems to be humming like a fancy sports car motor.

You get into the car with your new leather purse and head out to office that in its wisdom saw your intelligence and creativity and hired you. You pull into rush hour traffic and feel more grown-up than you have felt in years. You look into each car and wonder if the drivers notice how you are now one of them. You are part of that busy bustling machine that makes the world go round. This glow lasts several weeks and maybe even into the months or years if you like the job or volunteer work that you are doing.

Unfortunately, you will catch a new disease down the road. This disease is like a leaky gasket that pulls the energy from every pore of your body. Getting out of bed and into a car to fight the headache of traffic becomes a monotonous chore. That neat gray suit is starting to hang funny, especially across your butt. All of those people at the office that admired your creativity and energy have changed their tune and seem to feel you are way too energetic and too creative and are actually making them look bad. Just because you are young and cute doesn't give you the right to outdo them. They were there for years working their asses off while you sat at home and played with babies. They won't say that, but they do think it. And then the worst happens with this new disease...you become one of them! Every idea you get is echoed with "been there, done that.' You find the new young staff so annoying and so cliched and so very naive.

You begin to count the days when you can sit home in a quiet house with the hushing noise and the "Heloise" kitchen and the grandchild baby for playtime.

Memories -- long ago

I am having a number of deja vu moments as a grandmother living with my daughter. I am so happy for this experience, because we forget (I forget) so much of my past life as I plow through my current life of deadlines, dinner and diaper changing.

I had forgotten how rejecting my little girl was of her father in her early months due to my nursing. She wouldn't go to anyone at all because I was the sole source of sustenance. I would thrust her into her daddy's arms and tell him to just cope, because I had to start dinner! I knew she was fed and dry and I wanted some time without someone in my arms, so her crying didn't bother me all that much. But, it totally stressed our Daddy-o. He was that blue-eyed guy that was NOT used to being rejected.

Babies have excellent survival instincts. My daughter is also nursing her little gal and now at three months, Angel is rejecting all of us at most times. She will billow and coo until she realizes that she is not in her mother's arms and then her agony cannot be assuaged. I can calm her intermittently but I think that is because my voice and face remind her a little of mom and that confuses her enough to calm her for a few minutes.

I can already tell her personality is different from her brother's at this early age. She is very much a clinging girl. She likes to bury her face under my arm with her pacifier trying to shut out the world. She will nurse, pull off her mother's breast and then thrust her small face under Mom's arm and hide until she falls asleep. She also uses food to calm her every moment. Definately a 'food soothes' everything kid. She will probably have a weight problem growing up.

It is fun seeing the small parts of Angel that emerge each day. I have no time for myself at the end of the day as the result of living here, but this is a small sacrifice to be part of the lives of these very special people.

Design on a Crime (ouch)

The Scene: A basement family room.
The big screen TV sits firmly in the far corner, and the toddler’s toys are scattered from the side room well into the family room. The fairly new sectional in “Real Simple” gray blue style sits invitingly along part of one wall with a large matching soft cushion ottoman in front for plenty of foot resting.

Both toddler and baby are miraculously calm at the same time.

The Daughter and her Mother tentatively smooth the anticipation of actually participating in a conversation.

Daughter: “Mom look at this ottoman.”
Mother leans forward and sees a series of small brown dots. “What is it?”

Daughter: “Blood. From Dad working in the yard! Look over here on the seat!”

Mother leans to the side and sees a larger smudge that actually looks like blood, and she remembers why years ago she bought chocolate brown sofas for her family room.

Mother: “Oh,dear…Well you could let Xman crawl around when he skins his knees and thereby get a little modern matching pattern going on the fabric.”

Daughter, looking long and hard at mother. “Or I could just slit my wrists and let blood drip everywhere!”

Thursday Thoughts # 8 – Things I Knew and Others Have Recently Learned

• Little babies in Florida can still get a nasty sunburn when placed in a car seat under an umbrella on a heavily overcast day for several hours. In spite of peeling skin, they still remain cuter than anything you have seen all day.
• Even if flights are delayed, baggage misplaced, and traffic is horrendous due to drenching rain, the metal pole in the garage will not be the item that bends when you hit it with the car while backing out and moaning how late you will be to work.
• Fall rainy days invite that first cozy fireplace fire, but artificial logs do not give off much smoke and you will be well into sootsville and ceiling smoke hanging like a low cloud when you realize that you have closed—not opened—the damper on the fireplace in your newly purchased house. Trying to carry half the artificial log out with a shovel only increases the probability of disaster.
• Soot on the newly painted fireplace mantel doesn’t really look as romantically antique as it should.
• Dumping the smoldering half log on the driveway in the pouring rain means you will have wonderful gray mush that little boys can walk through and eventually bring back into the house.
• Husbands are a little clueless when it comes to putting on Halloween costumes so, do not be surprised if your little guy goes out with his Lightning McQueen costume on backwards!
• Direct TV is a lousy company. Their website says: “We Do the Work, You Watch TV. DIRECTV provides free professional installation free, service and maintenance and a 100% satisfaction guarantee. You can't get that with your cable TV company or other satellite TV companies. The proof is in the pudding!” The proof is they send you not once but twice a defective HD-DVR box. They speedily (3 days delay) send out the third box and they expect you to install it yourself. They also expect you to swallow the loss of hours of programming of your favorite series that still reside on the old box. This is a big deal only because the kids paid so much for the stupid service.
• If you ask grandpas to help with garage clean-up you must realize that it will be natural for bull-in-a-china-shop type of activities to transpire. The garage door opener will cease to work and you must wait for grandma to get home and figure it out.

Life on the Planet

I enjoyed my time in Williamsburg mostly because there was no agenda. The first two days my hubby and I just goofed off, enjoying not having any kind of schedule. We slept late and then went to bed late. When my daughter joined us with the littlest one several days later, the pace slowed down even more due to stopping for diaper changes and feedings.

Then the very next week daughter and her family headed to Orlando for time with the in-laws and some last minute Florida sun--the condo was paid for, so why not? Hubby headed down to the house and this left me with a week of time alone at my daughter's house between working. I did receive a call two days in from my daughter with the reminder to not set the alarm on the day the housekeeper worked, water the mums each day, take the garbage to the curb on Tuesday morning, pick up the mail and make sure the bags and boxes in the garage were also taken to the curb. (Just a few directives! I kind of felt a deja view like the roles had been reversed.)

But for the most part I was all alone, eating what I wanted when I wanted, watching what I wanted when I wanted...sort of a third dimension experience. I was totally laid back and not quite prepared for the re-entry,

Friday here was drenching rains and this weather made my normal 30 minute commute drag out to an hour and a half. Daughter and son-in-law returned with kids late on Friday. Two hours delayed due to the rains

A New Take on Writing Your Own Obituary

Many of us have taken at least one training class or self-improvement seminar where the leader asks you to write your own obituary and then read it and see if you are leading your life in the right direction so that you are remembered for what you love or what you do well. It is sort of an exercise where you look at what you have done so far and what you think people would say about you. It works pretty well if you do it honestly, although like most activities of this nature, you need to take it home with you and apply the lesson learned every single day. That is a difficult thing to do, unless the lesson learned stimulates you to make a major change or two in your life.

A few days ago, I got home from work and turned on the last half of the Oprah Winfrey show and found a very inspiring new take on this type of activity. A Carnegie Mellon professor talks about the "last lecture". If we could all face our mortality so impressively, the world would be a much better place. Watch this video and see if you aren't as challenged as I was to meet his level of humanity. "There's an academic tradition called the 'Last Lecture.' Hypothetically, if you knew you were going to die and you had one last lecture, what would you say to your students?" Randy says. "Well, for me, there's an elephant in the room. And the elephant in the room, for me, it wasn't hypothetical."
For some reason the link above does not seem to be working. The original video not edited for TV can be found doing a Google video search with the words "last lecture of Randy Pausch" There are several versions with longer introductions so you need to search through them for the thumbnail with his picture. The Winfrey program video can be found using the search "Randy Pausch reprising his "Last Lecture..."

Time for Thought

I have been thinking a lot about aging these days, probably because I am looking forward to retirement and realize that I must plan my future carefully if I expect to get the most out of my remaining years. I think when you reach that certain age, if you are lucky, you begin to realize that life is giving you a second change chance. When you are young and raising a family you are busy living in your waking hours. Each day is auto-filled with necessary deeds and tasks. People need you, so you spend time working on filling those needs---whether it is earning a living to pay bills or cooking and cleaning and kissing boo-boos or consoling a broken teenage heart.

It is a daily race and you fall into bed at the end of the day, hoping your mind will slow down enough so that you can sleep.

Then, almost suddenly, but not without warning (children entering college, getting married, having their own little ones) you realize that the race is slowing way down. You have time to look to each side and not always ahead. You are going slow enough that you now no longer worry about tripping or mis-reading signs and taking the wrong side road. As a matter of fact, a side road is most appealing.

If you have good health and your finances are secure your side roads are more interesting and more available. But even if life didn't end up like a bushel of sweet peaches, there are still different opportunities and angles that you can think about.

I watched a movie starring one of my favorite actors, Judi Dench, called Ladies in Lavender last night. A scene in which Dench is lost in thought about missed opportunities in her life and future choices she must make remains in my thoughts. Dench is lying casually on her bed with daylight crossing her face showing how lost in thought she is. The scene hangs in my memory because the impression given was that she had been lying there thinking for a long time. I realized that I have not had an opportunity to be lost in thought for quite a while.

I remember days as a young child daydreaming for hours. Do children have time to do that today? Are their days so programmed with activities or so filled with technological temptations that they fail to exercise their thinking muscles and in turn their imagination growth? Are we becoming a nation of doers and not thinkers?

I guess this is why activities such as camping and canoeing appeal to my soul. There is usually time for thought. Walking is another thought-provoking activity I enjoy.

I have decided that getting a little more peace in my life for thought and helping others realize how important thought is will be a new goal in retirement. The next time someone asks me what I will do when I retire, I will answer "Think more."

The Visual Aids for the Blogentry Below.

OK, here come the gray-haired ladies (AND the red-headed granny carrying three full shopping bags). Someone please pull the blanket over my head!!

This is what I am really feeling!!

But this is how I will express myself. This has been a very long day.

Center of the Universe II

There seems to be an ongoing inter generational saga within my family. As you will remember from my prior blog I realized that my birthday (and therefore my arrival on the face of the earth) was significant. Recent events have confirmed this power has been transferred to those who follow me.

Let me elaborate. This week I am spending some vacation time with my husband and daughter and granddaughter in Williamsburg Virginia. This area is full of history on the beginning of our country. Williamsburg, Jamestown and nearby Yorktown are filled with historic places and museums and street plays about the beginning of our country. With the beautiful fall weather we have loved sauntering through the tree lined streets and reading about the fight of our ancestors against the Spanish and the British to gain their liberty. We attended a wonderful lecture by "Patrick Henry" where in getting a personal history filled with amusing anecdotes, I learned Patrick had something like 77 grandchildren before his 60-sum years came to an end.

Now, I am certain you are eager to see how I will tie Patrick Henry to my family as the Center of the Universe. No, I am not related to the gentlemen...although with 77 grandchildren, I am sure there are many ancestors who could step forward.

My granddaughter is also the Center of the Universe ---not just my universe--- but the universe in Williamsburg. We were continually, constantly, endlessly stopped on the streets so that people could comment on her "darlingness," ask her age and coo and fawn over her. Yes, most of these people were my age...already grandparents or wannabees. They were totally entranced. (It was beginning to get on my nerves.) We entered a lovely giftshop to look at holiday garlands and decorations and all three retail sales ladies stopped everything they were doing and talked to my granddaughter AND daughter for at least 15 minutes. Angel (my granddaughter) cooed and smiled and put on a perfect show for them. At two months she has already got this flirting thing down. My daughter got no shopping done.

My husband (who was the frequent babysitter on the benches outside while my daughter and I perused the shops), was always visting with 'a gray haired grande olde dame when we returned with our wares.' He was so amazed at this human phenomenon. If we could bottle it, imagine the drugs we could create.

The climax came today when eating lunch at a nearby Friday's before bidding goodbye to my daughter, a lovely elderly couple (he was the age of 91 and she 88) that sat across from us engaged us in a lengthy conversation once they saw there was a little baby under that blanket. This fascination with a small baby doesn't not seem to diminish with age. He was a jaded journalist who had retired from work at the White House just a year ago...and he still was interested in Angel!

(Pictures to follow...)

The Center of the Universe

I am pretty sure my mother thought, for a very short time, that I was the Center of the Universe. After all, I was the first born of five sweet cherubs. The first of five smart futures. The first of five beautiful replicates. Unfortunately, she got over that idea in a few short months. Fortunately, I have never really accepted her theory that I am not one of the most important people in the world and that the Cosmos is not linked to the date of my entry into the world. Why, you may ask, in your serious interest in my life, do I think this? BECAUSE, recently this was confirmed by a number of cosmologists---note I did not write cosmetologists. (They are too expensive.)

I never have been much of an "end of days" or "apocolypse" person. S**t happens and we don't need to try to predict it. (Believe me, after living with two small people in diapers I know this.) But I saw a re-run of a program on TV a few nights ago and found that the Mayan Calendar ends on my 66th birthday. According to this calendar the poles of the earth and the magnetic forces shift on my 66th birthday. There is some re-alignment of milky way...I mean, are you surprised...really?

On August 3rd, the History Channel aired a program about my 66th birthday. See! According to the documentary my birthday will start a cataclysmic event in the history of the earth or perhaps it will mean an opportunity for monumental change for the good depending on which expert you believe. The History Channel is favoring disaster it appears, because after all, it sells. Disasters with blondes (Hilton, Spears, Lohan) sell. Why not disasters of the world? (Disasters with our illustrious leader are not nearly as commercially significant to the media...maybe too predictable?)

But some of the touchy feely experts think this change is going to be a transition to a better way of life. Go on and read this, I will wait.............And why not? I think that this version is just as good. (I sent my hubby this link and he sent me an email saying that this was perfectly understandable since marrying me was the beginning of his life...I know girls...you are sooo jealous.)

Regardless of the outcome, it will happen on my 66th birthday. Let's all get together somewhere cool and celebrate!

Sunday, Sunday

I am providing childcare this weekend. One parent is on a four-day golf trip and the other parent is on an overnight to watch a dance show!

My conversations with this small person revolve around Sally and McQueen although I have to listen carefully as it sounds like Sayee and Keen when discussing their various attributes or where they have hidden themselves. If you don't know who Sally and McQueen are, your life is bereft of meaning...what can I say.

He discovered his pockets this morning and found that both Sally and McQueen can fit inside them. This is a very good talent, because Grandma pointed out that his suicidal trips up and down stairs can now be hands free so that he can hang on to the banister, as opposed to holding a toy in both hands and attempting a heart stopping gymnastic balancing act. His Mother now has the fun of learning what small boys can cram in their pockets before or after doing the laundry. (This basement gets some rather large crickets as the weather cools, so that should be interesting.)

As I am writing this blog, the little guy went upstairs to the kitchen and I heard his little footfalls on the dining room floor. Then I heard him calling my name in great excitement. I couldn't quite understand what he was saying. It sounded like "Neeaa! Sum up!!" and when I made it to the dining room I saw it was filled with rays of bright golden sun and realized he was telling me that the Sun was up! This was what was making his day. (As you can guess he got me up before the sun.)

His grandfather cannot understand why all the doors and windows in the house must be closed as he goes from room to room and yet Xman wants none of his toys to remain in their containers when we straighten up the playroom.

He is the energizer bunny. My daughter was fighting a nasty cold earlier in the week and he was home from daycare fighting the last of the same germ, so she had both little ones to care for as well as herself. When I got home from work a little early she was so relieved. Near tears she told me that keeping up with one sick boy and a new baby when feeling so bad herself was about all she could take for the day. She told me just one of her adventures. She had to go to the bathroom (of course) and asked Xman to be a good little boy while she placed Angel in the baby rocker and then went to relieve herself. She told the me the results with tears in the corners of her eyes and a smile in the corners of her mouth. "Mom, everything was very quiet, but when I left the bathroom as I went to pick up the baby I saw that Angel had train stickers all over her forehead!"

We are going to the zoo this morning after Grandpa and I hit I-Hop. I will be bringing the camera and adding to my album of Xman. Probably to the thousands of photos already and he is only 2 and half. What will I do when his Sister, Angel, begins her activities?

Well, it is now 9:00 and I am still in my pajamas and wearing bedhead. Must get moving.

Fall Freedom

The days are now crisp and clean and clear and the sky is children’s storybook blue. Clouds are downy and plump as they drift above. Below, the water dances with light as if diamonds had been sprinkled across its surface. Nighttime brings the big fat moon smiling down in the cool of the evening. Reptiles are now seen only in the warmth of the afternoon sun. The last of the summer birds have started their long, hard journey south. The few species of birds that come to stay over the winter months from up north will be arriving shortly. The last of the Pawpaws are making forest floor wine. This is my favorite time of the year.

I Have Been a Bad Girl

My visit to the doctor this week brought me some expected news.

Ever since my move to my daughter's house, and even some months before, I have found my days too busy to find time to exercise. Unless I do it just before I fall into bed, which is not exactly the best time. Also, there is not really any room for good aerobic exercise where I now live. Any outside walking that I do involves the company of a little guy with short legs, so the only exercise I would get is the heavy weight of my grandson in my arms if we go too far and I have to provide his transportation on the return. I have tried to remember to walk during lunchtime at work, but I keep finding myself interrupted by yet another task or meeting. I know that I am rationalizing by telling myself that in less than a year I will be retired and can exercise all I want then!

In addition to this self-proclaimed moratorium on exercise (including lifting weights) I have gotten lazy and not renewed my Fosamax prescription for many many months.

Well my recent dexa scan reveals that I have early osteoporosis of the hip and osteopenia of my spine. This disorder is sneaky. It is not painful and years ago, before such excellent medical testing, it was only discovered after the spine started to fracture and the traditional dowagers hump appeared or you fell from an unknown hip fracture and got a broken hip.

This is not the end of the world as an aggressive campaign of taking the medicine and doing my exercise should return me somewhat to my former self. I guess I was being cavalier because there is no history of osteoporosis in my family. This new version of the medicine has a weekly vitamin D supplement (which helps to absorb Calcium) since I have been told that we cannot get enough vitamin D from winter sunshine alone.

In addition to my daily yogurt or cheese snack, I am also going to be taking a Calcium supplement. One 550 mg in the morning and one 500 mg in the evening. The body can effectively absorb only 500 mgs at a time, it appears.

In case you are wondering why I am not taking "Sally Fields" Boniva which is a monthly dose (we should all look like her!), my doctor just likes the greater number of studies from Fosamax.

Getting old and can't deny it.

For the Curious

I noticed that several bloggers have posted photos of where they blog, so you can see the place that stimulates their creativity. Many of them blog near a window that looks out on a vast scene to stimulate thought or distract them totally...whichever. My nook is in the photo below. The only window looks out on the roof and I can see a nice white spot of bird doo on the shingles which I have not allowed you to see. That is a real motivator!



The strange image in the foreground is more shingles. Those on a dollhouse that my father made for me many years ago and which I have plans to restore when I retire. Plans, plans, and more plans, helps me think I will live forever.

This weekend my work involved windows. I have LOTS of windows on this house because I love the views of the water and the views of the woods. But that also means I have lots of washing to do. I haven't really washed these windows since we moved in almost a year ago. So today was spent using my arms for the wash-on and wash-off exercise---Karate Kid fans. Tomorrow the car gets washed!

Well, husband has fixed a lovely perch dinner for me and so I will log off and go eat.

The Beat Goes on...Arrhythmically

I was going to post something inane but after watching this I feel a little old.

Drifting Along with the Tumbling Tumbleweeds

I have no idea why I think the title above will relate to anything I feel like writing in this post...but it is what popped into my head like a stale piece of popcorn.

NO, no wine yet. Just aging stream of conscious writing.

We are awaiting the arrival of dinner guests (the kind that bring dinner because of the new baby.) I am really tired after work today, but both hubby and I are keeping our office clothes on and stifling yawns as one member of this dinner party may play a future role in my daughter's career in one way or another. I guess I feel lightheaded like a tumbling tumbleweed. The slightest air flow will carry me away.

In addition to the above I had called my son regarding some travel plans we have in October and found the following message on my cell:

"Hi...Mom. Just got your message. Just left the doctor's office. (pause) Don't know about October...yet... (pause) I have some projects. ....will be out of town this weekend...actually out of town on Saturday. (pause) Maybe I can join you the early part of the week in October....(pause) don't know yet. I guess I should drive out to see my sister and the new baby...(pause) (mumble mumble something)...still have that stupid cold...that's why I am at the doctor's office. (Pause) Don't want to give the baby my cold....(pause) (more mumbling)...well, guess that's all. ...hope you get this message. (pause) Love ya, .... bye."

I know that I did not raise him to be so rambling (tumbling) and incoherent. As hubby responded, "Hope he communicates better than that at work!"

Thursday Thoughts #7 - Things I Have Learned Recently

I am living with (I think) Gen Y'ers. People born after the Gen X'ers? Anyway, people who are in their 30s. In the two weeks that I have been here, my daughter and SIL have had 4 dinners with guests. Lots of 30 somethings wend their way through this place. (Many with tiny people in diapers.)

Thus far I have learned these things:

• People in their 30's will politely listen to you as an 'elder' but possibly not take what you are saying too seriously.
• I was told that I must have been a Tomboy growing up. This I learned from my daughter. I thought I was pretty much a girl-girl, and I distinctly remember a green pair of hotpants, but I guess not.
• You have to be moving all the time in this household. If you stand still too long, someone hands you a kid, a dirty plate or a load of laundry.
• Although my bedroom is on the lowest floor in the basement, I must hit every single staircase at least twice during a day.
• When you take the house alarm off of instant and then set the alarm for 'away' (since you are the first to leave in the morning,) it beeps for 45 times to let you know how much time you have to depart. I make sure that purse, lunch, coffee, dry cleaning and everything else are close at hand before I set the alarm.
• Those expensive tasso coffee machines cannot be used with tall travel coffee mugs.
• All those instinctive thoughts on taking care of a baby come back pretty fast.
  
• My daughter watches the Food channel most of the day and by the time I get home, she is starving!
• I keep thinking in the back of my mind, I am still waiting to exhale.
  

This Old Life

My life is in boxes
Wrapped in white paper
Resting securely
And tucked tight away.

My life is in stasis
With memories stalling;
Fads that have faded
In the warm light of day.

My life is outdated,
Stale themes in reclusion,
Old times held suspended
Will be forgotten some day

My life was electric,
At one time in neon
Billous loud green;
It's now just today.

For all the SPECIAL people on September 9

To see who they are go here

The Good Spot

I have been so busy moving out of the apartment and packing 80% for down at the house and 20% for the next few months that I will be living in my daughter's basement. She is only 30 minutes from work...and I still have to work at the monkey house (another long story.)

There is a lesson here. Children, your parents may return! They may move in, actually, if you have a basement with a tiny bedroom, small kitchen and teeny weeny bathroom. But unlike family members who move back in with laundry, your parents will do their own laundry! They also work as free babysitters, allowing you to check your email or nurse your baby or take that well earned sitz bath at your leisure. Guess what, some of us even pay a token rent!!

As you will notice, your Daddy does the lawn, sweeps the driveway, picks up at day care and is great at BBQ.

Your mom, granny, allows small infants to throw up on her without flinching and can help with planning dinner and shopping. She is also great at playing with Thomas the Train for an hour before her head explodes. And at the age of 60, she can bend over and push a little plastic car around the park chasing her grandson as he pushes the other toddler car for quite a few laps. Of course, after a half dozen laps around the park, she looks a little hunched in the back area when she tries to stand upright. But does she complain about the pain? Never--unless you count that groan that scares the little poodle on the bike path.

Then like the good guests (hired help) that they are, they disappear on the weekends to their own place, so you are left to entertain the people of your generation who also have munchkins and talk about important things like reality TV and football.

In all honesty this little hiccup in our life has worked out far better than one would think. We are a help, we give them their space, and we contribute to costs. (Also, in another 'all honesty' hubby is having his challenges remembering to put every pen, pencil and laptop out of the reach of a toddler. He completely forgot to bring his laptop down this weekend as he had put it high on the mantel and ended up grabbing an empty backpack!)

In return, I have gotten so close to both grandchildren and fully realize how very very very rare and special this time is.

A Celestial Messenger

Aha, I think somewhere in my soul the writing angel is moving and stretching much like this little angel stretched and moved until her birthday August 16. (The same as our anniversary.) But the writing angel will have to wait. I now have some stroking and smelling and kissing and patting and humming to do with this angel. You do understand, don't you? I thought you would.

Your So Mundane

Mundaneness is taking over my spirit these days...a kind of plodding but contradictory busy mundaneness is filling every corner of my soul and sapping my elder strength. My blog entries have been what oil on the water I can corner and then send in razor thinness over the boring (to me) and flat blog ocean.

When my days and hours become like 'sand through the hourglass' it is time to take a break and restore one's soul.

Maybe the birth of the new one will inspire.