• CLEW'S BLUES •

Ashes and Dust

2011-05-12T09:45:00.000-04:00

I initially started this blog to help me work through my emotions surrounding the death of J, my dearest friend. Six years later, I am returning to its roots by writing about losing my father. It feels good to get thoughts and feelings down, even if it doesn't help me solve anything.

The following is my contribution for Velvet Verbosity's 100 Words this week. This round's word is FORGOTTEN. VV is choosing very helpful words for my process. :). Thank you, my sweet readers, for your patience and compassion while indulging me.

Appraising someone else's treasures is more difficult than you'd think. I struggle with evaluating and thinning Dad's beloved book collection, and glance at his sacred "ham shack" in the corner. The old amateur radios that used to whisper through the registers after my bedtime are now quiet until sold to other operators. The powdery ash that was once my Daddy will soon be one with the Rockies, assimilated and quickly forgotten by the elements. I've never been one to linger by caskets or gravestones ... but maybe that's what I'm doing now. Letting go so very reluctantly.

Erasure

2011-05-05T21:50:00.004-04:00

After a short respite, I'm returning to Velvet Verbosity's 100 Word Challenge. This week's prompt is FAMILY - I didn't use the word within my piece, but felt I need not.

After spending the past week disbursing death certificates and helping Mom update their accounts, I had a squinchy feeling of remorse deep within. As if we were erasing him from the world.

His ashes have now reached Colorado, where my brother will scatter them in the mountains. We'll have no grave to visit. Not that I would anyway. Still, it somehow bothers me no one will ever be standing somewhere and know he was here - even strangers.

Such a ridiculous fret. We know. Dad reaches beyond monuments, beyond his own mortality. Blossoming through us.

XYZ

2011-04-30T22:47:00.002-04:00

My final post for the A to Z Challenge, at which I pretty much sucked ;).

Well, much like the challenge, this trying month is over.

Dad's memorial service was today. It was fairly short and sweet - much as he'd prefer. Lots of old familiar faces and awkward but heartfelt words. I managed not to cry while I was there. I worry that Mom is crying right now. Or perhaps that she isn't. We are not very proficient processors of overpowering emotions, either one of us.

I spent time with my brother, nephew and neice this evening. We played Trivial Pursuit and had a fun time. It feels good to laugh and love with my blood. I don't see them nearly enough.

The difficult month that draws to a close tonight has changed me in ways that will never reverse. I have aged, and my heart has lost a few irretrievable shards. I've said goodbye to people I love - people I cannot imagine not being here.

But I have a husband, and a little boy, a dog, friends and family who are here. They love me and I love them. I continue to mourn. But I will do my best to return to the living.

Weary (A/Z)

2011-04-25T23:19:00.008-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter W.

My Dad passed away early Saturday morning.

I've been continuing with my previously mentioned running to Mom's, now to help her with arrangements. He wanted to be cremated, which simplified many aspects of the planning. If you can really do that. Very little is simple about laying a loved one to rest.

My brother will scatter Dad's ashes in the Colorado Rockies, which Dad did not propose himself but would no doubt approve of as his point of re-entry, becoming one again with the Earth.

I have drawn a lot of comfort in knowing Dad is no longer suffering. He was in incredible pain and discomfort with his cancer. He was so weary from his fight. While he didn't want to leave us, he seemed to know it was coming sooner than later. I truly think he was ready to be at rest - perhaps even willfully ushering himself there.

My Dad and I shared a delicately balanced, eggshell-filled, and often tumultuous relationship. Not often close, not even always speaking to each other. But he was my Dad, and I his daughter, and in these last few years we have mended or otherwise let go of the static between us. I have had nothing but love for him during these final years, and I know he felt the same.

I have begun mourning a little bit, but the bulk is still to come. This is a big one, and add this blow to the fact that we've lost yet another close family member only a week ago (I had not blogged about this out of respect for family privacy), I truly have not even been able to get into the grieving process very deeply yet. I have a way of holding it together for the sake of being strong for everyone else until it's all done and life can return to normal. But then many days later something will flip the switch. I will probably see an amateur radio license plate on the freeway, or hear Sultans of Swing (one of Dad's favorites) on the radio ... and it will hit me. And I will fully grieve then, because that's when the time will be. It just needs to come to me on its own.

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the weary, for they shall find rest.

Rest in Peace, Dad.

~

VICTORY (A/Z)

2011-04-24T10:27:00.003-04:00

~ ~ Happy Easter ~ ~

A to Z Challenge Letter V - Victory over the Grave - He's Alive!

Quiet Reality Screams Terrible Unknowns (A/Z)

2011-04-22T15:30:00.005-04:00

I'm cheating again, using 5 letters at once (Q,R,S,T,U) for the A to Z Challenge, but these little shortcuts are necessary for me right now. I've barely been online, let alone been able to blog - and my alternative is to fall behind with poor hope of catching up again ... and while I know this isn't exactly keeping up, I don't want to just abandon the challenge - because it's been fun :).

I don't speak about my personal life here much deeper than little anecdotes that reflect quaint little life lessons. But I feel like going deeper today.

My Dad is dying. He's all but lost his battle with cancer, which began in his colon and liver a few years back and then stealthily spread to his lungs and bones. He had many months of quality time left only last week. But then he suffered a fall and fractured his neck. This seems to have led to a dizzyingly rapid decline. He now lies in palliative care in a neck brace the rest of his life, which was quickly reduced to an estimated six months, then two months, and now only a few weeks. Only Monday he was quite himself, joking around with me, flirting with Mom and charming the nurses. He is now out of it with pain management medication way more than he is conscious. Still, I talk with him like he can hear me, hoping that he does despite the lack of outward cues. I hold his frail hand and tell him I love him each time I leave, hoping it rings through the fog for him. Hoping (selfishly, perhaps) it's not the last time I can do so.

Just as difficult to witness, my Mom is falling apart before my eyes. Always a pillar of strength and faith throughout our lives, she is crumbling in the face of reality - her valentine of 53 years, her husband for 51 of those, is failing. she is losing her partner, her right arm, her heart. She is devastated. I can be there for support, but I cannot stop her pain. She is not well either and I'm afraid she will lose her own will to live after Dad is gone. I don't know how to help her.

My Dad is being moved from the hospital to a nursing facility near their home later this afternoon. There he will receive hospice and round-the-clock care he will need to be as comfortable as possible for the remainder of his days.

Sunday is Easter. My Dad loves Easter eggs. This is the first time ever my Mom didn't make Easter eggs. She just didn't feel like it. I guess I don't blame her.

I don't know whether to wish for more time or for a quick release from his suffering now. Any alternative is almost too horrible to think about.

I love you, Dad.

Scattered to the Winds

2011-04-16T19:12:00.002-04:00

For Velvet Verbosity's 100 Words Challenge. This week's prompt is IMP.

She made her way though the empty outbuilding with the stragglers brought in by the auction. It had been a lucrative day. Even the box of ancient snapshots and postcards had been bought by a vintage photo collector. She wasn't sure why something lacerated inside her as she let go of the box, when she didn't recognize a single person in them. She watched the last buyer pull away as her parents' cherished Imp squeaked arthritically behind him. A slideshow of summer memories flipped through her mind. She felt her heart fold in on itself like that leaky old boat.

LMNO Puppies (A/Z)

2011-04-16T18:20:00.004-04:00

"ABCD puppies?"
"LMNO puppies."
"OSAR puppies, CMPN?"

-- childhood play-with-letters joke

Does anyone remember this? The rough translation is 'Hey, Bee, see da puppies?' 'Hell, them ain't no puppies.' 'Oh yes they are puppies, see 'em peein'?' It was so naughtily funny to tell a joke about pee (not to mention the implied bad word) in grade school.

The above joke is totally unrelated to anything at all, and I fully admit this is cheating by the rules of the A to Z Challenge, using 4 letters in one post ... but some emergencies have come up in my life and I need to consolidate just this once. I'll try to get back on track as soon as possible.

Klansman? Me? (A/Z)

2011-04-13T09:09:00.002-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter K. Warning: Rant below! :)

I have just about had it with the race card.

I'm not saying racism doesn't exist, because it most certainly does. But just because I expect answers doesn't make me a racist. Neither does expecting a leader to make responsible decisions. Pass responsible laws. Handle the national budget with sense. Refrain from lavish vacations for himself and his family on the country's dime during times of fiscal crisis. Demanding that the will of the people be taken into consideration. Remember that whole not the color of my skin but the content of my character thing?

Many people question his citizenship. Supposedly born in Hawaii, the question has been raised he may have been born in Indonesia or somewhere else - rendering him disqualified from being President of the United States. To be honest I don't really have a strong feeling either way on which is right. But I will tell you I have a very low tolerance for bullsh*t.

Listen up: If you were born here, prove it. Not with relatives swearing by it, not with xeroxed newspaper announcements, not by chuckling dismissively and saying you're getting picked on by racists. You're wasting my time. You're wasting America's time. Ante up your proof with original, doctor signed docmuents and settle the matter if you very well can so we can get on with important business.

And by the way, sticking up for a sub-par, expect no accountability president just because he is black (*ahem*, half-black, but you never hear mention of that), IS in fact, also being a racist.

Jack (A/Z)

2011-04-13T08:35:00.005-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter J.

Enough said.

Insidous (A/Z)

2011-04-11T22:50:00.003-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter I.

Everyone knows I love a great horror movie. Everyone also knows that I don't think there's been a decent horror film out in years and years (unless you count the SAW movies ... which I LOVE but consider them more to be psychological thrillers than true "horror" movies). Horror films have been so stale for so long that every time I waste two hours of my life on one I swear it's THE. LAST. TIME.

Needless to say, I saw Insidious on opening day.

This movie is the one I've been waiting for. Part Poltergeist, part Shyamalan-style, and with the exception of a scant few cheesy cliches and a possible Darth Maul makeup ripoff, it was exceptional.

What's been done that hasn't already been done? Well ... not much. But I jumped out of my skin several times, and a chill trickled down my spine way more than once. And that's what I paid for.

Great flick.

Hats (A/Z)

2011-04-09T23:55:00.003-04:00

For the A to Z Challege - Letter H.

A few generations back, everyone wore hats. Take a look at old films and photos. Women and men alike seemed to never leave the house without some sort of hat. Most were typical, even identical flat straw boaters or felt derbys - but many were so ... awesome looking. Ridiculously large. Overburdened with feathers and thick satin bands.

I'm really not a fashion addict. But I wish hats were still a wardrobe staple above and beyond bitter winters, bad hair days and casual sun protection.

Do you have a favorite hat? I don't mean your old lucky Dodgers cap with the mustard stain on the bill. I mean a cool style of hat.

I always thought cloches (most popular in the 20's and 30's) were really cute, not to mention having a high potential for sexiness. You could do some bigtime mysterious seduction peeking out from under that snug brim.

But my all-time favorite hat is the top hat. I mean that's some serious badness right there. If you're wearing a top hat, you have self-confidence to spare... You know it and so does everyone else. I love 'em. In fact, I think I'll wear a top hat to my next business meeting. Talk about making a statement. Who's going to doubt someone wearing a ultra-cool hat like that?

Bragas

2011-04-09T00:18:00.003-04:00

For Velvet Verbosity's 100 Words. Just for fun, I'm going a little silly this time. This week's inspiration is BROKEN.

Meandering blearily through the tight maze of shops bursting with cheap trinkets (made, ironically, in China) and bilious tropical wear, she struggled to collect her thoughts. She couldn't recall where she was exactly, but knew it had to be deep in town, far away from tourism areas. She tried not to think about the tender new tattoo of a tequila worm in a sombrero and ridiculous mustache nagging at her bikini line. A tawny flower showed her a collection of beads. She ignored the sales pitch and dug deep into her broken rusty spanish. "Vender bragas?" Do you sell panties?

Guts (A/Z)

2011-04-08T23:00:00.002-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter G.

Most writers and artists will tell you there is a palpable vulnerability to sharing your work, particularly within a large arena of viewers. Summoning the guts to do so can be good. Constructive criticism is every bit as helpful in helping the artist grow as appreciation, if not moreso. But there is also the fear that people will scoff or insult the nudity of your soul.

I joined a poetry writers' circle on Facebook, thinking it might be good for feedback as well as inspiration. I was thinking of sharing my haiku cluster I wrote last weekend, and then as I started reading through the page.

Many comments left by other members are helpful. But some of the members are bluntly nasty. A few of my 'favorites' are as follows:

"Trivial piece. I don't care for the topic or the way you presented it."

"I ahbor end line rhymes."

"Terrible metaphor." (That's helpful.)

"If I didn't leave a comment it was because I didn't care for the poem at all and had nothing to say that could make it better." (Really? Was it necessary to say this?)

I'm not so sensitive that I can't take constructive criticism on my writing. But, I don't know. To me these sorts of comments are not helpful. At all. But should one expose one's self to those as well? Does brutality fortify your guts?

Fan (A/Z)

2011-04-07T21:55:00.001-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter F.

Music is the way our memories sing to us across time. - Lance Morrow

I would take music over every other form of entertainment without a moment of hesitation.

I was raised in a wildflower field of musical styles. My mom loved The Everly Brothers, The Sandpipers and Peter Paul & Mary. My dad loved Johnny Cash, The Who and Grand Funk Railroad. My brother, 6 years my senior, was into The Beatles, The Ohio Players and AC/DC. He brought home KISS ALIVE! when I was in first grade. He only listened to it a few times, but I was changed forever. But all three saturated my little soul with this bouquet of styles, and I love it all.

Fan is such a tiny word. Music is more to me than music. It is memory and identity, blade and bandage, joy and breath. It is as much a part of my life force as my blood and my thoughts.

Extreme Couponing (A/Z)

2011-04-06T23:43:00.005-04:00

For rhe A to Z Challenge - Letter E.

Have you heard of this? It's not new, but there's a big boon in its popularity of late. People collect coupons from papers, magazines, websites, swap groups, and anyone not fast enough to run away from them. Then they scour store ads for all the sales, and strategically orchestrate a battle plan to swoop into all markets and marts within their area and cherrypick the best deals. Some extreme couponers save 90% or better on their grocery bills and get many items for free.

Ya know, I think that's great. I mean, I cut coupons, sure. And I usually save between $20 and $50 a trip by using them. But it takes some planning, and a lot of comparison shopping. And to be honest, I just can't make my shopping trips a full-time job, I don't care what the bill adds up (or down) to. I go to one store - the one I think has the best prices overall - that's it. Besides money, my time is valuable to me as well, and I've got other crap to do.

Hey, Godspeed to all you extreme couponers out there, though. Can a borrow some money? I spent all mine at the store today.

Distance (A/Z)

2011-04-05T17:41:00.004-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter D.

I had a nice long chat on the phone today with a good friend. She works in the editing business, and we share a common love of snark, the Steelers, good music, travel, and proper grammar. She's been one of my strongest supporters in following my writing dream, and does a great job of convincing me I really can do it. We've been buddies for many years now. Yet I have never met her in person. We met on a music message board and a lovely friendship blossomed from there.

It's curious to take note of how people come into your life. Even more curious that geographical distance seems much easier to bridge for me than emotional distance.

Even when I was a kid, I have always made very dear friends who live far away - by pen palling before the days of email and Facebook and message boards. Technology seems to make it even easier. Sometimes I wonder if it prevents me from making friends, in real life. Then I remember that I am indeed friendly ... but no one seems interested, in real life.

Currents (A/Z)

2011-04-03T19:20:00.008-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter C.

Inspired by another blogger, I thought I'd jot a haiku cluster for my A to Z Challenge today. I wrote this in the car while Incrediboy was at a birthday party, so don't expect much ;).

Currents running on
Perpetual, as clockwork
Obliviously

Slide in, then suck out -
Or is it down? Leeching to
Some otherworld place

Currents running on
Indifferent to this place
As any other

I imagine, hard,
Body evaporating
My soul running down

Now part of the sea
Flesh, memories, burdens, life
All left behind me.

Burley-Belly (A/Z)

2011-04-02T17:25:00.005-04:00

For the A to Z Challenge - Letter B.

Here's a fun (and possibly funny) fact about me for those who didn't know: I love bellydancing. I wanted to learn since I was a teenager, and for the past few years I've been taking the occasional class and have amassed a "few" (ahem) DVDs focusing on learning the art.

To be honest I suck at it. But I don't really care. I have fun trying, and it's a deceptively demanding workout. Best of all it makes me feel great about myself - something I haven't felt enough of.

I spent the afternoon today doing a Burley-Belly Fusion Workshop. As the name suggests, it fused the sensual fluid movements of bellydance with the flirty sauciness of classic burlesque performance. (No stripping, just teasing.)

It was an absolute blast. We had so much fun bringing out our playful sides, but man did we work hard, too. The snake arms, shimmies and concentrated hipwork are already stiffening up my poor old muscles - but it's a sweet sultry pain.

And I felt like a superstar, no matter how ridiculous I looked.

Ancestors (A/Z)

2011-04-01T22:00:00.011-04:00

My first installment of the super-fun April A to Z Challenge. Are you as excited as I am!?!? :D

There aren't many things I love the way I love the old family photos and jottings that have found their way to me.

I am the youngest child of two youngest children, which means most of my elders were gone before I got to know them. While I was born in the Age of Aquarius, my grandfather was born in the 19th century. He died an old man when I was only in first grade. My memories of him are only tiny vignettes themselves - whisps of a waist-high view - my eyes level with the pocket of his houndstooth coat as he'd sneak me a piece of candy. The bright jewel colors of his blanket, always on his lap in his last months.

In the photos I have, he is handsome and commanding. Hair inky black instead of winter white. In one he holds a baby that looks just like me. My mother.

Another of my favorite photos is of my grandmother and her best friend. They were all of twenty years old, wearing tweed pants, vests, ties and big newsboy hats. In an age where so many photos were stiff and posed, these two were mugging it up - fat cigars clenched tight in their teeth, laughter in their eyes.

Grandma gave me her cookbook before she died. It was published in the twenties and had revolting recipes with ingredients like suet, tripe, and chicken feet. Frugal times commanded a frugal kitchen. I imagine I'd be much thinner with entrails on the table.

What I love about this book though, are her notes. Some stuck haphazardly about the pages on scraps of paper, others written in margins or inside the blank cover sheets. Reminders scrawled in her confident, jagged cursive. As identifiable as a fingerprint, and even moreso.

In some ways, having a snatch of handwriting is even more precious than a picture. My ancestors weren't just ghostly images on brittle photographic paper. They were real. Their writing left like footprints, like whispers. Like pieces I've been looking for to complete the puzzle of who I am.

Cracks

2011-03-31T23:51:00.007-04:00

For Velvet Verbosity's 100 Words Challenge. This round's word of inspiration is VOICE.

He earned his living with that voice, hosting radio shows featuring oldies or lonely heart dedications. Deep and enveloping, immediately familiar. Equal parts thunder and romance. And always strong.

He paid our bills with it. Put food in our bellies, put our green asses through college. Put the fear of God in us.

I never knew it to show weakness, even when Grandma died.

Until we spoke today. Over the hollow line, it was time his only daughter knew the severity. I could hear the cracks, like sugar glass. Unsure if it was in his voice, or from within me.

Protector

2011-03-23T09:30:00.000-04:00

For Velvet Verbosity's 100 Words Project. This week's inspiration is CUFFS.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first few cuffs across the chops she let slide without question. If her strict upbringing taught her anything, it was that the man was head of the house. Reminding her of her place was probably called for.

As his corrective hand grew firmer over time, it became a little more difficult. At least now he only struck her where it wouldn't have to show.

But when she found streaks of blood in her daughter's little panties, that was too much.

As the officer placed the cuffs on her own blood-soaked wrists, she smiled - certain any judge would understand.

Becoming Beautiful (100 Words)

2011-03-19T23:12:00.003-04:00

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is my first contribution to Velvet Verbosity's 100 Words Project - a fun little exercise I've decided to invite myself to join. Each week a word or phrase is presened to participants, to build from however we are inspired - in exactly 100 words.

This week's inspiration is SLEEK.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On any ordinary day, she sees herself as a lumpy, mousy, fairly unremarkable girl. But during these devoted hours, the constraints on her meager self confidence fall away. She allows the music to soak into her , dissolving her insecurities. New world, middle eastern, modern rock, it doesn't matter. They all seduce her instincts. Sensuality billows within her. Working boneless arms, fluid spine and sleek swiveling hips glinting with coin scarves, she transforms. Still the same body, but not the same girl. She is a goddess. Day by day, more of the goddess remains afterwards. She's becoming beautiful to herself - finally.

Finding My Way Back

2011-03-18T22:50:00.008-04:00

When you respond to the call of creativity, you will find peace from the purge. If you do not heed, the calls of sirens become the shrieks of banshees and given enough time unrequited will drive you mad. I need to learn not only to listen, but respond. It is my condition, it is in the fiber of my being. ~ Clew, August 28, 2005

I wrote these words almost six years ago. It didn't take me long to stray from my creative soul's steps to salvation, though.

I've really been farting around with this blog for a while. Going months without posts and then wasting everyone's time (most significatly, my own) with jabber containing little to no creativity. I've missed writing. Not just blogging, but writing, as a practice. I've allowed myself to become too preoccupied with other things, and my creativity has gone into a coma.

The shock of newness will often shake you awake. Some life-altering events have happened in and around me and my family recently - and in courses I won't try to explain, my longing to create ... I don't know, something ... has returned. And I had a revelation the other day. When I was at the height of my creative production on this blog, I was most rewarded with serenity in my heart and mind. I received more satisfaction from writing a good blog post than from drawing and painting - what I have always considered my prominent creative outlets. Am I missing my calling?

So, long story short (too late), I'm going to return to creative writing pursuits here at Clew's Blues. It may suck sometimes. I feel rusty. But rustiness doesn't come from lack of capability as much as it comes from lack of practice. I'm going to devote more time (more consistently, also) to creativity here. Directly my dear readers, who are still hanging in there with me despite my lame attendance record, will see that I'm going to experiment with some prompts and challenges from some writing groups I've found. Behind the scenes, I am looking into eventually submitting some pieces for publication. Will I get rich? Doubtful. Will I even be selected? Probably not, not right away anyway. But ... who knows?

Why not me?

Wait ... What?

2011-03-02T07:34:00.004-05:00

So, I finished The Paris Wife, and I found it to be absolutely exquisite. It broke my heart(figuratively) in 20 different ways and left me sad that there was not more to read. That's the mark of a good book.

The whole thing got me thinking about checking out some Hemingway. Somehow I'd avoided reading any of his works throughout school - and while some of his contemporaries left me ... let's say, underwhelmed, at the time ... perhaps I'd developed enough over the years to have a great appreciation for this literary genius.

I took Incrediboy to the library last night and while we were there I grabbed a collection of Hemingway's short stories (which, I have gathered from my nosings, is the forte where he really shone). These were written duting the time frame of TPW, so that made it even more fun.

I read about 50 pages last night - the equivalent of 5 short stories.

I wasn't impressed.

Other than a few dazzling lines sprinkled sparsely throughout, I found his style to be choppy, awkward, and even juvenile. THIS is the greatest American writer of the 20th century? Really?

I guess he's just not my style.

I'm going to keep reading for a while, thinking that maybe Hemingway is an acquired taste for me. I also have the desperate feeling that I'm simply missing something. Personally, I think I'm a pretty good judge of worthy writing. I like it beautiful but simple. Poetically descriptive yet not too fluorishy. Could I really be so at odds with what's considered literary gold?

I'm telling you though - my creative writing professors would have given us a C-minus at best for turning in that stuff. I'm really quite perplexed.

The Paris Wife

2011-02-25T14:28:00.006-05:00

Not that I need to point this out, but I haven't blogged in a long time. It's not that I haven't wanted to, but inspiration just hasn't been there. Even recapping day to day things seems to be too bland. But - I miss it. So I'm going to excite you with one of my scintillating book reviews.

I don't read much anymore - and life's busyness (not to mention an insufferably short attention span) prevents me from finishing significantly fewer than I manage to start. But now and then I run across a book that I just absolutely fall in love with - nigh devour.

I was liesurely flipping through the Sunday paper last weekend when I caught a little writeup on The Paris Wife by Paula McLain. The story focuses on the events surrounding the meeting, courtship, and marriage of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife, Hadley - long before Hemingway was famous, and their life in Paris and other cities as his writing career blossomed and took off.

I don't normally go for this sort of book. I'm more of a ghosts and serial killers type, actually. But this one intrigued me. Perhaps it was that it is written in Hadley's voice, and I do enjoy stories told from the perspective of the less usual subjects (a la "Mary Reilly"). Mostly I think it's because the story is based upon letters she had written to Ernest. The first of his four wives - and only for five years, Hadley is remembered as little more than a footnote in Hemingway's mainstream biographical information - but he had kept all of her letters his entire life - a tidbit I find heartwrenching.

I will confess, I don't think I've ever read a word of Hemingway's writings, and was not familiar with Ms. McLain's work. But this book - oh, this book. It's written so beautifully ... such as you want to hold phrases on your mind's tongue to savor their sweetness. Devastatingly romantic. Not just regarding young love, but the passion of writing, of creating, of chasing muses. The naivete of believing anything can happen from merely wanting it so much. All of this speckled with wisps of bittersweet hindsight which makes it so accessible and relative to one's own experiences and life lessons.

It makes me, on numerous levels, long for the writer I always wanted to be but have never quite achieved.

While I realize it is largely fictional and not a true biography, it has sparked my interest in reading some of the works of Hemingway and other writers mentioned therein. Maybe my muse is being serenaded awake by those gone before me. Inspiration, much like the Lord, moves in mysterious ways.

Tuesday Tidbits

2010-09-21T14:35:00.000-04:00

It's that time again! What we'll call Tuesday Tidbits (because I can never seem to get my crap posted on Friday Frags anymore!), cheaper than Wal-Mart and better than a fish fry. And a free hunting cap for the first 100 commenters! (or while supplies last) ... So, how are things? Here's the latest here. Try not to get too excited and wee yourself.

I totally forgot to tell you that on the last day of vacation I got stung by a jellyfish. Have you ever? Well, if not - let me tell you - holy crap, that really hurts. Kind of a cross between a long strip of bee stings and an acid burn. WOW. I hobbled to the lifeguard stand, trying not to freak out Incrediboy by making a big deal about it, and the lifeguard sprayed my leg with vinegar (the answer to your next question is no, it was not pee). It stopped hurting in about 10 minutes ~ whew. But let me tell you - in a few days that sucker was red and bumpy itched so bad ... and carried on for like two weeks. It's a good thing I couldn't find a wire brush or I'd have scraped the flesh right off my legbones. Anyway - I'm all healed now, and I have a really fun scar and matching war story to tell.
I have developed a pretty intense addiction. I love peanut butter, I mean I really love it. Well, I heard about this all natural peanut butter made by a New York sandwich company that is infused with different things. They have honey, cinnamon, and hot pepper to name a few. Well I found it at a grocery store not too far off the beaten path. I got a jar of Dark Chocolate Dreams and White Chocolate Wonderful. Oh my gawrsh. Smear some of that on apple slices or a toasted sandwich flat? We're talking food of the gods, baby. If you ever have the chance to get your paws on some of this stuff I highly recommend it.
I've been doing a fitness challenge this month with some friends, involving 2,000 crunches, 90 minutes of planks, and 10,000 kettlebell swings. The crunches are in the bag - I'm already at 2100, so I think I'm going to up the ante for myself and shoot for 4,000 by October. Why not? The planks - I'm not doing so well. Only 22 minutes so far. And I stopped counting my kettlebell swings in the first week, so ... pssh, so much for that. But hey, I'm not facing jailtime or anything if I don't make it.
On a related topic, I'm going to start a 90 day intense workout affectionately known as Power 90, starting this Saturday. I have this lofty pipe dream of getting to my fitness goal (12 more pounds) by New Year's. I am really at an age where it truly doesn't matter if I'm in perfect shape. I'm middle aged and well past the shallow points of vanity which plagues the younger set. But here's the thing: I've been fit and I've been unfit. I know I'll never have the body I once had. But I want to feel good. Really good. My fitness goals are helping me get there. I feel better than I have in years - that's what matters to me. :)
Incrediboy started first grade a few weeks ago, and we had our first Cub Scout meeting last night. He's making the world his own and it's so fun to be a part of that. Everybody says this but I truly can't believe it. He was about 8 months old or so when I started this blog and now he's a grade schooler. Part of me wants to get all mushy and start crying, but I'm just so proud of him I can't help but be excited and happy about all the great things he'll learn and experience this year. I am so proud of him!
I really am not thrilled with what my blog has become. I keep saying I'm going to get back to creative writing on here - what I really loved doing with it. But thanks for being interested in my life all the same - even if you're just pretending. ;)

Still here!

2010-09-07T13:06:00.001-04:00

Still here, my friends - just been running crazy. I'll update soon - until then I'll bore you with some medical stuff.

I had a physical last week - and of the many tests run, I had a cholesterol reading. I've never had a cholesterol test in my life, and knowing that I have always loved to eat junk (LOL) I really didn't know what to expect.

The nurse called me with my results and said everything was just where they want it to be. My LDL is 97, HDL is 48 and overall reading is 159.

I'll be honest - I don't know what those numbers mean. And since I'm all factoidy, I looked it up.

For LDL, less than 100 is optimal. (I am 97)
For HDL, 40-59 is optimal. (I am 48)
For overall reading, less than 200 is optimal. (I am 159)

So - science confirms what we already know. I am pretty close to perfect. ;)

I'm Still Here! Friday Frag Catch-up

2010-08-06T12:59:00.005-04:00

Hi everyone! It's been a month of Sundays since I posted ... You know what they say though - no news is good news! Not that I don't have news, but you know what I mean. I hope. Anywhooo ... How about Friday Frags as a great format for catching y'all up on things? YAY! That's what I thought too!

We took a really great fun vacation to HILTON HEAD ISLAND last month. Sooo nice! Sooo beautiful! SOOOOO HOT! Good thing we were right there at the beach, or I might have died. It was my first time to HHI and I really did enjoy it. One of my favorite things was the fact that a whole bunch of pelicans were in perpetual fly-by mode over our condo. I can't explain why but I thought that was the awesomest thing ever, to look out the balcony doors and see pelicans cruising by at any given time. I miss them a lot now that I'm back home in the great midwest.
I may or may not have mentioned earlier that I was so annoyed by my scale that I decided not to get on it for a whole month. Ya know, I thought that would be hard, but it ended up being great. It gave me the opportunity to "walk by faith and not by sight" with my fitness plan, and in the process I gained a lot of self-esteem without that beastly machine spitting out narrow-viewed numbers at me. In the end, I actually felt positive about checking my progress ... and guess what? I lost 5 pounds in July. Even being on vacation. I'm beside myself with glee about that!
My Dad has decided he's too old for another bout of surgery, so he's decided to combat his tumors with stand-alone chemotherapy. I understand his decision and his reasoning, but have mixed emotions about this.
I bought the series collection of Gilligan's Island ~~just because I wanted it~~ - for Incrediboy to have some good wholesome television to enjoy. This was my hands-down favorite show when I was a kid and it's still freaking hilarious - and for a whole new bouquet of reasons as watched through the eyes of an adult. We are all enjoying them immensely. Interestingly enough, we'd been calling the Hub "Skipper" but when the Hub called Incrediboy "Gilligan", he informed us he was not Gilligan, he was the Professor. :). Such a precocious imp! I then chided that this must mean *I'm* Gilligan. Incrediboy responded by telling me I was Ginger. I love that boy so much. :). (I know, I know - most men really had a thing for Mary Ann. But I always thought Ginger was completely breathtaking, so I am immensely flattered. Shut up and let me have my moment.)
I treated myself to a Wii Fit! It's totally fun. I even let Incrediboy play with it a little bit, but mostly I've been hogging it to myself. ;D. I also got myself a boxing game with glove set for it, but as of now I'm still playing with the games that were included with it.
I wandered by the bakery in the grocery store last night and saw this. A crab cake!?!? Seriously the funniest thing I've seen all week. I'm still laughing about it.

Hope everyone's well. Enjoy the rest of summer!!! ~

Finally! Another Friday Frag

2010-07-09T07:18:00.003-04:00

I know it's been forever since I posted anything, let alone a Friday Frag. I'm sorry, my darlings ... Sometimes there just aren't enough hours in the day! Most of the time, actually ... I'm kind of starting to think they've shortened days, to be honest ... So - I know you're wondering what could possibly have me so busy. The suspense is killing me too!

I'm still working out, but stepped away from the 30 Day Shred because it was making my knees hurt. I'm aiming to work out about 45 minutes a day, 5 days a week - doing one thing or another. Currently I'm alternating between a boxing workout and kettlebell routines. I've made huge strides in my strength, endurance, and balance. I feel fantastic!
The scale was killing me, though. It wouldn't budge. And even though I know that can be deceiving when you're working out since muscle is denser than fat (a pound of fat takes up 7 times more room than a pound of muscle - amazing, right?), it was still really discouraging. So I swore off the scale for the whole month of July. It's much easier to give up than I thought it would be. I feel like I'm emancipated! Although right before June ended and the no-weigh challenge began, I did drop 4 pounds just like that by cutting my sodium in half - which was nice. *grin*
Not like I care (I'm not a basketball fan), but apparently LeBron James has announced he's leaving Cleveland for Miami. Frankly, I'm glad to see him go. Maybe I can hear about something else on the local news now. Sheesh.
I've been hanging out with a new friend - which is nice, since I don't have very many because nobody really likes me. But for now she does, so I'll enjoy it until she too decides I suck. She's actually dating a longtime friend of ours. She's super fun and they seem to bring out the best in each other. It's good to see them so happy.
I'm almost done with the scrapbooks I've been making for my mom and mother-in-law. I've enjoyed doing these but I can't say as I'm sorry to get them behind me. I need to work on my own stuff!
My Dad is still in limbo. He's still having tests done and trying to figure out what he should do. The docs say anything from a simple removal of the affected area to taking out the entire lobe. He's kind of a Nervous Norvis anyway, and he's crapping bricks about it. Not that it isn't understandable to do so. I'm hoping they figure out what the hell they're doing and he gets his surgery scheduled soon - the sooner they get that growth out of his lung the better.

I have more but I need to run. Hopefully I'll come back and add on in a bit. Hope all of you are well! xoxoxo

Friday Frags Double Dose

2010-06-18T07:16:00.008-04:00

Hello my dear friends! It's Friday Frags time! Yes I'm still here, and no Jillian Michaels didn't kill me (yet) as I had half-joked last time. It's been crazy here lately, though ... So much so that I haven't even fragged for two weeks now. I'm so sorry to make you miss me so much! So what's been going on? Oy. I don't even know where to begin.

Many thanks to all of you who expressed good wishes for my Dad and friend and their health issues. My friend has started a blog about her breast cancer journey, which is not only nice (for lack of a better word) for keeping up on her news and progress, but also very therapeutic for her. As for my Dad - what a drama. His bronchioscope was inconclusive (how annoying!) but his doctor recommended removing the affected area just to be safe. It's a small area and could probably be done laproscopically. He sent my dad on to the surgeon, who went over the tests thus far and seemed to be a little more concerned. He's ordered more tests and suggests more of the lung be removed. As the meeting went on the surgeon re-evaluated, ordered more tests, and suggested possibly just removing the whole lobe - which obviously couldn't be done with the laproscope - much more invasive. Naturally my Dad is freaking out becasue the prognosis just gets scarier sounding by the minute. I'm hoping they are just being extra careful based on his history. Surgery is penciled in a few weeks from now, and now we're kind of in a holding pattern.
A dear old girlfriend from high school's husband has struggled with bipolar disorder for the last several years. She loved him dearly but his crazy mood swings had driven her recently to take their daughter and leave their home until he would relent to seeking care for his issues. My friend sent me an email last night to let me know he took his own life yesterday. It's one of those things that hits you so hard and swiftly that you don't even know if you heard it right. I mean, my gawd.
Project Reshape is slow and go. My body isn't changing much externally yet. But I can feel internal changes. Patience and commitment required. Neither being my strong points.
I have slacked off a little bit on the working out this week because my knees have been hurting. So I bought myself some Ace Braces for them. I have officially arrived in the town of Decrepitness. I'm not sure if I can continue with Jillian, she's pretty rough on the knee joints. But I *have* been really enjoying my kettlebell workouts! I have also rekindled my love for boxing via Wii Sports. I used to love kickboxing more than anything. I have ordered a 'new' (to me) boxing workout DVD from Amazon Marketplace for $4.44 used, shipping included. Not bad. Additionally, I'm thinking of checking out a Zumba class next week - I hear great things. It's amazing how spending energy gives you energy.
Work is starting to pick up and I got a very modest but greatly appreciated raise on my 12th anniversary with my company. In a time where people are out of work and struggling with hard times, that's a very good thing.
Incrediboy graduated from kindergarten last week. Unbelievable. My little baby is technically a first grader now. *sniff* He has also earned his purple belt in karate and played in a championship victory soccer game since then. He's now involved in his summer program, full of swimming, field trips, and activities - he comes home happy every day and sleeps like a rock every night. You can't ask for more than that. Safety camp starts next week, which he ecstatically loves. Life is good for Incrediboy.
I heard a guy in Utah was executed by firing squad overnight. The first execution of this type in 14 years. If you ask me, some of these more (what bleedinghearts consider) 'brutal' executions should come back in fashion. You can't tell me that wouldn't make an impression. I'm sure some congressman will be crybabying about this on Capitol Hill. In which case I'll write them a couple letters. Specifically, an F and a U.

There's more, but I have to run :/. I'll be around to visit all you fragbuddies when I can. Be safe this weekend, lovelies. xoxo

Friday Frags

2010-06-04T07:30:00.001-04:00

It's Friday Frag time again! My how time has been flying! It's nice to be busy though, right? Yeah, I think so too. So ... what's been happening, you're wondering? I'm glad you asked.

We took the boat out last weekend for the 2010 inaugural trip. It was great to be back on the water and soak in some sun! Now that I'm getting ~~old~~ ... I mean, older ... I make sure I'm sunscreened up pretty well. Incrediboy and I use the same SPF, yo. I figure my body can't recover from sun damage like it used to, so better to be precautious and a little paler than burnt to a crisp and subsequently bronzed but looking like an old catcher's mitt. Anyway, the water was surprisingly warmed up for this time of year, so despite the wicked heat and humidity, relief was just a plop away while not simultaneously causing hypothermia ... it was so nice to get in some laketime.
I've started working out in the mornings. And though this means I have to get up a five damn o'clock now, much to my surprise it's worth it! I feel better and more spry all day long by getting up a bit earlier and getting the blood flowing. I'm doing the 30 Day Shred if I didn't mention it before ... It's challenging. I'm sore in muscles that haven't even been thought of for a very long time. And to be honest, it bites the big one to get up before the crack to do circuit training. But I'm lovin' the way it makes me feel the rest of the day. It makes me wish I'd been a morning workouter all along.
BTW, I've now lost 9 pounds since January, and that's just with me being half-arsed about it most of the time. YAY! I've buckled down seriously in the last few weeks, and am hoping to lose (at least) another 10 by our as of yet undetermined summer vacation. I'll tell ya though, I'm just about ready for a splurge night (which I firmly believe are an invaluable tool for managing the challenges of ~~dieting~~ healthy eating). GAWD, I miss pizza.
We had a CRAZY thunderstorm roll through here the other night, which was followed by the most stunning horizon-to-horizon double rainbow against the angry sky. It was really breathtaking. Reminded me very much of J's rainbow - and almost 5 years later to the day. To add to the drama, this rainbow was rickracked with the occasional jagged lightning bolt streaking perfectly along its contour, as if God Himself meant the entire scene just for us. Amazing.
In more somber news, a dear friend of mine has found out she has breast cancer. She's having tests done soon to find out more about the extent and which path of treatment would be best to pursue. I have faith in her recovery - she is strong. But it's a very serious matter. May God keep her in His close care.
My Dad is also getting a bronchioscope done on Monday as a followup to a strange spot on his lung found via CAT scan. He underwent surgery, chemo and radiation for stage 4 colon and liver cancer about 3 1/2 years ago and has been doing remarkably well. But he coughed up some bloody stuff a few times recently and made haste to get it checked out - which is when they found the spot. The pollon count has been crazy this year so the doctor thinks it may very well be an irritation or fungus of some sort related to that. We're hoping that's all it is.

I hope everyone has a great weekend. It was nice to have a short week, right? :)

Riding in Proverbial Cars with Boys

2010-06-01T10:20:00.005-04:00

The fellas camped out on the boat this weekend so I treated myself to a chick movie Saturday night. Not to be confused with a chick flick - a chick movie in Clew's language is one that involves hot men in some sort of period wear (gladiators, pirates, cowboys, etc.) and some sort of fantastical storyline. Anyway, I went to see Prince of Persia and had a grand old time. The story is fun, there was little violence or swearing that wasn't pertinent to the plot and setting (there is some violence, but hey, they're Persians), the special effects were cool, everybody spoke in an ambiguous British accent (chicks dig that), and Jake Gyllenhaal is smoking hot in it.

Based on that last point alone, there's not much more this girl could ask for in a chick movie. I mean look at that. Come on.

The Hub likes to tease me. He will sometimes suggest that he wears his Captain Jack wig to bed. (Hmmm ...) I think he considers my modest (ahem) collection of chick movies akin to a porn stash. I fail to see his point.

Is it so wrong for us girls to ~~slobber over~~ appreciate hot men of the big screen? We get made fun of - called cougars and desperate housewives. But why should men get a corner on the market of ogling beautiful members of the opposite sex? THAT'S the burning question of the modern age, my friends.

Personally, I consider it simply appreciating the art of the human form. If you have a chest and/or face that seems carved out of marble by the angels, it's practically a crime against nature NOT to notice. Don't you think?

I'm just doing my civic duty.

Obviously these poor boys are crying out for attention.

I'm just the girl to help them out with that. I figure it's the least I can do.

Friday Frags ~ Yay!

2010-05-27T09:48:00.011-04:00

Hip hip hooray, it's Friday Frags time! I haven't been around blogland much this week, so I should have lots to talk about that won't be a rerun. I'm sure you're just crazy with anticipation!

Yesterday (May 27) marked the 5 year anniversary of my dear friend J's death. She's one of the reasons I started this blog - to help me process my thoughts and feelings on this and other things ... I still have moments where I make a mental note to share something with her before I remember she's not here anymore. I still miss her every day. Every. Single. Day. *sigh* ... But she always brought joy to my life in our 20 year friendship, and memories and influences continue to do so.
Lee won American Idol. Big surprise. I don't care either way though - they're both talented and they'll both get a record deal. So it's all good.
Not to be one of those boring people who whines about their weight, but I really got serious about getting in shape this week. I went back on my healthy eating a while ago, but after not losing a single pound last week (grrr) I joined a fitness community and made a pact with some others to start the 30 Day Shred next week - it's a toughie, and it might just kill me ... So if I never post again, you'll know what happened.
In seemingly direct coflict with my previous frag, have you tried the new pretzel M&M's? I can't seem to find them, but a lot of my friends are talking about them. I love pretzels and chocolate, so when I find these, they better be good. I can't imagine they wouldn't be, but you know what I'm sayin'.
My skin is breaking out all along my jawline like I'm 14 years old again. The clustered, huge, painful, swollen kind. WTF! I haven't changed soap, shampoo, lotions, skin care regimens, or anything like that, and my dietary changes in the recent weeks have only been positive and healthy. I can only surmise it's a hormonal thing. Middle-age acne. Charming. I feel so pretty.
I've been super upset the last few days about an extremely disturbing local animal abuse case. I won't go into detail, but it was at a dairy farm and involved crowbars among other unthinkable weapons. Now I'm a carnivore, I'll admit that. I love milk, cheese and a good steak as much as the next guy. But humane treatment of livestock shouldn't even be a question. There's no excuse for causing deliberate, repetitive, blatant injury to any animal. This was just ... mean. Mean to be mean. What's just as troubling is the main guy is an Iraqi vet. Now I appreciate the sacrifices he made for our country, but nothing excuses anyone from being a cruel and compassionless sadist to animals. He was charged with mere misdemeanors. How nice. If I could get my hands on this piece of sh!t I'd give him what he deserves myself. And I mean that with all my heart.
I got another returned letter yesterday. I am pretty confident at this point that my adopted soldier has moved on - hopefully back home.
On a happier note, it's Memorial Day weekend! (We should be taking the boat out for the season induction. Can't wait to be on the water again!!! And do my part to make everyone else look thin - HAR - sweet of me, right?) Everyone be safe and have a good time. But most of all be sure to stop and reflect on the sacrifices made by the men and women of the armed forces so we can enjoy our lives in America. Thank any soldiers and vets you run across. The Hub will often buy soldiers and vets their meal if we see them out at a restaurant or something. I love that about him. But even if nothing else, shake their hand. Express gratefulness. We owe them an awful lot.

Seems like I should have more to share, but I guess I don't. Meh! Thanks for sticking around anyway :) - Peace out, blog pals. xoxoxo ~~

Stickin' It to the Man

2010-05-24T07:42:00.001-04:00

I don't plug too much stuff on my blog, but this is something good. And since you're my best friend, I had to tell you about it!

I don't know about you, but saving some money always gives me a kick. Since you can often find better deals this way (and a little because I live in what the upper crust might refer to as "BFE" and sometimes it's just easier to shop while I'm sitting on the couch than driving all over creation), I often order online.

A while back I heard about this site called "Retail Me Not". It's a user-contribution site, where people from all over can share their coupon codes. You simply plug in the site name or URL in the search bar and it will pull up all the available codes in its database. Some are for free or upgraded shipping. Some are for incentive goodies or services. Some are worth a percentage off certain products, or even your entire order. You can also find grocery and other printable coupons here. Expiration dates are usually provided, and there is user feedback so you can see how successful the codes worked and how much savings others had using the codes.

Most often I refer to this site for my insatiable scrapbook supply ~~hoarding~~ requirements, but I've also found awesome savings for clothes, photo orders, and gifts, among other things. I have saved tons on shipping expenses and by taking percentages off the cost my orders. Just last night I saved 20% on my antivirus subscription renewal. Whoda thought you could even get that?

If you ever order anything on line, I just wanted to pass this little reference on to you. Bookmark it and check it next time you want to buy something - you just might find some free money. What's better than saving some cash in the process of whatever you're doing? :)

Friday Frags Time!

2010-05-21T07:31:00.001-04:00

Gather 'round, friends - it's time for Friday Frags! And a rousing roundup of all the great things that have been going on here. I was out of town for a long weekend last time and was really bad about visiting my other fraggers. So sorry :(! Time gets away, especially when you have something out of the ordinary going on. I'll be around now though. Y'all can't get rid of me that easily.

So here's the latest on my end:

Blogarita weekend was awesome as always. One of us couldn't make it, and her presence was sorely missed. It's just not the same without all of us there. But we did have a great time. I love those girls and I wish our crazy lives and challenging geography allowed us to get together more often. BTW, can I tell you how GOOOOOD 99 Bananas liqueur is? Oh my word ...

While I was away, the Hub bought Incrediboy and Incrediboy-sized 4-wheeler. It's super cute and super cool and Incrediboy is super fearless on it. I expect to be fully white-haired by the end of summer.

I'm back on my ~~diet~~ healthy eating plan as of Monday. I haven't gotten on the scale since Monday morning's starting point, but I'm feeling better just striking the processed crap and the majority of chemicals from my intake. Heck, I know I'll never be a skinny-minny again. But it's ridiculous to feel like crap all the time. The Hub has now lost 20 pounds in 2 weeks on his extreme cleanse diet. I'm happy for him. See me smiling? *gritting teeth* ;)

Speaking of chemicals, I got a shipping confirmation on my case of Stok - it should be here next week. WOOHOO!

I'm more than a little miffed about American Idol's BLATANT favoritism this week. Okay, yes - Casey has not progressed the way he could and should have in the recent weeks. I love him but Lee and Crystal (who I also love) deserve the top 2 slots. That doesn't mean he shouldn't get a fair shake, though. As a guy who clearly excels with the Jonny Lang, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton sort of stuff, I fully expected a southern blues rock type selection for the judges' pick. What did he get? John Mayer's 'Daughters'. Are you kidding me? Can we set him up any more for absolute forgetability? And don't get me started on the dramatic light show and accompanying gospel choir for Lee - the shows' painfully obvious favorite. What a rudely stark contrast of production. It was really sickening to compare them. Sure, Casey was going home when he's up against Lee and Crystal. But treat the contestants fairly in what they're given for their performances. Casey totally got the shaft in that department.

On a related note (because he performed on AI this week), I heard that Justin Bieber -->, who may be the whitest white boy in pop music today, is up for a BET award. ... Wait, what?

Since the trip to Colorado has been cancelled (boo!), we need to figure out where and when we are going to go on vacation this year. We are leaning toward Myrtle Beach again, which would make me happy just on the fact that I can get a Mocha Rockuccino from the KISS Coffehouse again (yummmm-MEH!) but there's also the option of going to a more quiet, secluded beach since Incrediboy (as well as Mom and Dad) were perfectly happy to hang with the sand and surf all day. We'll see ...

If you've been here in the last few days you know about my returned letter. I'm still wondering about all that, and wondering if it's selfish of me to kind of wish he'd have let me know if he did indeed go home. *shrug*

I need to take like a million books back to the library tonight that are about 3 weeks overdue. I'm REALLY lucky my little country library doesn't charge late fees.

Not one, but TWO birthday parties this weekend, on top of everything else! I'm utterly enthralled. >:/

Happy weekend, mates!

My First Thursday Thunk!

2010-05-20T15:16:00.007-04:00

I'm trying a new group participation thing today, just for fun. My dear friend Ace did it before me, and since we are practically doppelgangers, she already took all my answers. I'll try to come up with new stuff. But I tell ya, it was pretty rude of her to do that, don't you think?

Anyway ....

Welcome to this week's (and my first) episode of Thursday Thunks! They pick a subject, and my job is to interpret it anyway I want. This week is going to be easy... just one question. Ok, well maybe not so easy. Take each letter of the alphabet and describe something in your life... don't skip any!

Arbitrary. To the outsider, I probably seem like I'm really big on free-association. I'll relate things that will make total sense to me but I'm probably the only one - and I usually won't bother to explain why because it's too time-consuming to find a descriptive bridge for it before my busy brain moves on to the next thing.

Boys. With a husband, son, and male dog - as well as working in a heavily male-dominated business - my life is chock full of boys. Which is fine with me because boys are totally fun to hang out with anyway.

Caribbean. I would just love to rot away on the island of St. Somewhere in the Caribbean for the rest of my life. Breeze in my hair, rum and fresh pineapple juice in my glass, butt in a hammock between two palm trees, steel drums making up the soundtrack of my days and nights. Plus the off-chance that I might run into this guy ----------->. Ohhhh, my. *Sigh*. That'd be the life, baby.

Dog. Everybody knows how much my Most Beautiful Dog means to me. He's the furry peg of my heart.

Embellishments. I love to scrapbook, and what's scrapbooking without embellishments? Just a photo album, that's what! For those who aren't into it, embellishments are all the little extra things you add to a page to make it pretty and shiny and artsy. Stickers, fibers, brads, whatever. Fun stuff! Pretty stuff! YAY!

Frogs. Incrediboy is really into frogs right now, which means that by default I have frogs on my mind all the time. Which is cool, because I think frogs are pretty cute too.

Graveyards. I enjoy exploring old graveyards and seeing the awesome craftsmanship of stone carvers past. I detest visiting the gravesite of someone I knew - in fact I'll avoid it at almost all cost. But apart from that, graveyards can be serene places.

Humor. I can be a real ~~snarky smartarse~~ - er, ~~sarcastic pain~~ - I mean, um, silly girl. Life's not always easy, but if you can find a way to make your own fun and laugh about it all, it helps a lot.

Ink. When I got my first tattoo 20+ years ago, not too many women had them. Now they're everywhere. That's kind of a bummer, because it takes my rebel edge off. But I still love my ink.

Jeopardy. I need to go on this show, or else my huge collection of useless knowledge and trivial facts & statistics will have no value whatsoever.

KISS. My favorite band since I was 6 years old. Sophisticated?
Not a bit. Good, fun, old fashioned rock 'n' roll and good times? That's my guys.

Lake. I love the water. Always have. We live less than a mile from a lake and there is where we spend as much time as we can in the fair weather months. "There is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." ~ Kenneth Grahame

Music. My life's always been heavily entrenched in music. More than any other cultural influence. Music has the power to become one with places, emotions, and experiences - providing instantaneous recollection and time travel. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. But I wouldn't trade it.

Nachos. Man, I love Mexican food. I'm not even sure if nachos are "real" Mexican food, or they're just Mexican food-associated. You know, how they say pizza isn't really Italian, even though you think of it as Italian? But you know what I'm sayin'.

Outside. I like to go outside and explore the big world with my boy. We are lucky to have a nature preserve near our home and we love to go for walks there. I'm also a bit of a shutterbug, and I love photographing nature's little details. Outside is a good place to be.

Patriotism. I love my country. I love freedom.

Quiet. As a general life rule, I love it loud. But since becoming a wife and mom, I really relish quiet. When anyone else is in the house, there are televisions, radios, video games and toys making all kinds of racket. If I get a rare chunk of time to myself, it all goes off and I bask in the sweet sound of silence for a while. Funny how you don't appreciate the simple things until they are gone. ;)

Restless. I always have these thoughts banging around in my head - about what I want to be doing, what I should be doing, what I want to get to next. It's actually kind of counterproductive most of the time. Right about now is when that quiet thing would come in handy.

Sheldon Cooper. My favorite show is The Big Bang Theory, and Sheldon is the absolute funniest straight man ever. When this show first aired, I really didn't have much hope that it'd last. It was too good. You know how great shows get cancelled but stupid crap is on for years? But TBBT beat the odds and is hugely popular. And my little inner nerd couldn't be happier about that.

Titilating. Just because it's fun to say. Yes, I'm immature.

Underdog. I love the underdog. Not the cartoon superhero, but the one who has the odds stacked against him. The one who tries harder because he has to. The one who probably deserves to win more anyway because of that. It might have to do with the fact that I've been the underdog so often in my life, but you didn't hear that from me.

Vroom! I love cars! Classic cars and hot rods especially. I don't know much about them - how they work or what year they are. But I know what I like to look at, and I like classic cars and hot rods.

Weight. I obsess about mine too much. I'm not obese or anything, but I used to be a lot thinner than I am now and didn't even really have to work at it. But then again, I'm not twentysomething anymore, and thank God for that in all other aspects. So I'm working on just loving the best me I can be.

Xanax. I don't take it, but maybe I should. Or maybe not. But hey, there aren't that many X words.

Yarn. I enjoy knitting now and then - it relaxes me and indulges my obsessive-compulsive counting disorder. I also like to spin yarns. As in tell stories. But you probably could figure that out on your own.

Zamboni. Hockey rocks. Go Blue Jackets!

Godspeed, Soldier.

2010-05-19T07:43:00.006-04:00

I "adopted" a soldier in Afghanistan in a letter-writing effort last fall. It was a project put together to focus on soldiers who had, for whatever reason, not received any mail from home since their arrival there.

How sad it that thought?

Some might wonder if this lack of comfort from home is due to them being a jerk - but I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I tend to think the best of others. Maybe these guys are buttholes as people and that's why nobody cares enough to write to them. On the other hand, maybe their families are the buttholes. Maybe they just don't have families. Maybe their friends don't write because the art of longhand correspondence is dying out. Whatever the case may be, it's sad to think of these kids fighting for freedom in a distant land, a whole world away from all they know, with seemingly no one who cares enough to say hey. It tugs at the heart to think of his buddies getting letters and packages while he gets nothing at mail call, ever.

How utterly lonely that must feel.

It was made clear that it would probably be a thankless job. The soldiers are crazy-busy over there and may not have the time or the energy to be good return pen pals. Most who take on the adoptions never hear back from their soldiers. But enough word gets back that regardless of whether we hear from them or not, no volunteered letter is ever taken for granted. No heart goes untouched to know that complete strangers care and are praying for their safety.

I knew nothing about my soldier but his name and position in his branch. But since I'm a Chatty Cathy, I just started writing - introducing myself and telling him about things going on back home. From time to time I sent a care package: small games like dice and decks of cards, puzzle books, candy at Halloween, bright pressed leaves during autumn, Girl Scout cookies at Cookie Time. But mostly I just sent letters - always making sure to thank him for his service let him know I was praying for his safety.

The other day, a letter I'd written in April was returned to me. It had been opened, and on the front was written in lovely ladies' penmanship to forward it back to me. No other details were noted.

I wondered if the letter had been sent to the wrong post, but it didn't really make sense that it would be sent back to me and not re-routed to him. I wondered if something had happened to the soldier. I wondered if his tour was over and he'd gotten to come home.

I've decided to think that he's now home.

I'll probably continue to write a few more letters just to make sure it wasn't a fluke - I'd hate to stop writing altogether if he's still over there. But for his sake, I hope he's home.

I hope that my small-talk letters have made his time away from American soil a little less monotonous. I hope I helped him feel appreciated back in the states. I hope the remainder of his life is filled with peace and contentment.

Godspeed, Soldier.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sort-of Update: My good buddy Coffeypot provided me with this link which lists all reported servicemen killed in action related to Project Enduring Freedom. I'm happy to learn my soldier is not on this list! It is heartbreaking, however, to see the names and faces of those who are. There are soooo many. The majority are just babies. Some still have adolescent acne. Please take a moment to pray for the safety of our servicemen each night. They are offering the ultimate sacrifice.

"All gave some - Some gave all."

xo

Back in One (exhausted) Piece!

2010-05-17T09:52:00.004-04:00

I'm back in one piece from the big weekend! We had a fabulous time as always. Great food, lots of creativity, generous amounts of alcohol, and tons of hijinks & laughter. We laughed so much I even peed a little at one point. I know, gross. But it was only a little dot of pee. Sometimes you just cant help it, especially when you're with your besties. And you've been drinking a lot of rum. But I digress.

I also accidentally discovered this stuff at a gas station when I stopped for a cup of joe along my road trip to said girls' weekend. It adds an extra turbo-boost of caffeine to your coffee. I snagged a couple extra to take with me and with the weekend now behind me I can officially say I'm addicted to this powerful little additive. I was on line first thing this morning trying to score some for my own private ~~abuse~~ occasional enjoyment.

In case anyone's wondering, I found a case of about 264 of these for $24 on Amazon. ~~I'm jonesin' like a crack addict just thinking about getting my hands on it.~~ I'm nonchalantly looking forward to its arrival.

So happy to be back to work today. Not.

Friday Frags

2010-05-14T07:30:00.001-04:00

I totally cheesed out of doing Friday Frags last week, so you'd think I'd have plenty of titilating tidbits to share this round, right? Well, I guess that depends on how easily you're amused. Hopefully pretty easily. No offense.

First of all, I'm going to have to be rude and not visit any other fraggers till like Sunday this time, because guess what! I'm off to the semi-annual and long-overdue-this-round BLOGARITA GATHERING with my besties this weekend! It's always good to get away with girlfriends, scrap, find some mischief, and enjoy a few cocktails and laughs - more than a few if history is any indication. Each gathering produces its own collection of hysterical antics, inside jokes and classic moments. The stories are legendary. I can't wait to see what tomfoolery develops this time. And there's a bonus too! AND! In addition to the other Blogarita Sisters, I'll also be seeing two other dear friends, Martie and Heidi. Yippee!

Quick on the heels of Hub's two cousins and his uncle and my Dad's best friend passing away, Hub's Aunt G also passed. This is a blessing of mercy somewhat, because she was very ill and had little hope of getting better. But it's never easy. Aunt G was a real spitfire and she was one of my favoritest in-laws. I am going to really miss her. I still need to take her email out of my address book but I just can't seem to do it yet. Isn't that weird?

*WHINE ALERT* - Last Saturday was excruciating. I woke up with a headache, which is always fun. Incrediboy's school was having an arts festival which of course we wanted to attend. I'm a firm believer in acknowledging and attending all that stuff even when you'd rather deal with a root canal, because they are great esteem boosters for the kids. Incrediboy had a painting framed and on display, which we could purchase at an exhorbitant fee, in the name of a Rwandan conservation drive they were having. Of course I bought it. We had a soccer game in the early afternoon, so we grabbed lunch at a nearby joint. The food ended up being really disgusting. Nice. The weather was horrible - cold, raining, and super windy - so the soccer game was a real character builder. We did win (Woot! Still undefeated!) but all the commotion brought my headache up to a deafening throbbing pound. Right after the soccer game Incrediboy had a birthday party. For twins. So there were twice as many kids as usual and it was at least twice as loud. Not to mention the bad weather brought the party indoors. The noise was unbelievable, and accelerated my headache into a migraine. I actually had to go out and lay down in the car for a while. By the time it was all over any noise, movement, or change in lighting made me feel like I was going to puke. I managed to drive us home without wrecking and immediately collapsed into bed for the duration of the day.

Sunday (Mother's Day) I woke up feeling fine. Thank heavens. The lousy weather had moved out and it was a crisp but gorgeous sunny day. We had a cookout on our deck with my BIL and his litter and we all had a really nice time. AND, my boys gave me a big bouquet of gorgeous roses. I love my guys so much.

I was happy to see Big Mike go home on Idol this week. I have nothing against the guy, but he was still around just on the judges' save, which is a bunch of crap. That's just 19 Productions being mad that they missed out on the Daughtry cash cow and trying to make sure it doesn't happen again if you ask me. But who did? Oh, that's right. Nobody.

On the flipside, my man Rupert is gone on Survivor. Boo! BUT! He already won the fan fave million, so I don't mnd as much. Russell is still in it and he deserves the mill more than anyone. He's so WICKED! Lastly, if Parvati ends up winning this thing, I'm going to kill myself.

The remainder of my thrilling week has consisted of getting my scrapping project organized for the big weekend, indulging in my photography hobby, catching up with some newly found old college friends on Facebook, and semi-sort-of helping Hub with an electrical project. Which reminds me (and I won't bore you with the corelation), we finally got a Wii. Welcome to the 21st century!

Well darlings, I have girl time to get to - wish y'all could come! see ya! xoxoxo

Impishness is Afoot

2010-05-13T10:54:00.007-04:00

So this weekend is the semi-annual Blogarita gathering ~ me and my besties getting together ~~under the ruse of~~ for the main purpose of doing some scrapbooking, while ~~really having an excuse to get lit together and find immature mischief to get into~~ having some laughs and quaint girl time in the process.

I absolutely can't wait.

The downside, as I have mentioned in earlier posts, is one of us will not be able to come, as is sometimes the case in our hectic 21st century lives. That's a real bummer ... But I also know that plenty of laughs and great memories are waiting to be had. The 5 pounds of fresh pineapple I have in my fridge, marinating in straight rum, should help assure that.

Cheers ~

Look! An Award!

2010-05-07T09:31:00.008-04:00

Awww, my sweet blogfriend Nicole over at Laugh Outloud gave me the Attitude & Gratitude Sisterhood Award! Isn't that great? I feel so honored! And a little surprised, since all my complaining lately doesn't exactly display gratitude. Hm, I must have won based on the attitude part. ...

So anyway, I'm taking a break from Friday Fragments in lieu of sharing and celebrating this exciting turn of events. I mean honestly, isn't this enough? :) Thanks so much, Nicole - you're the best! xoxox

Now it is my distinct honor to pass the gauntlet to ten other deserving blog sisters (in no particular order). Be sure to check them out because I think they're the cat's butt.

Paint Splotches (Ace) - This lady is sassy and funny and I just love her. We're pretty sure we were separated at birth.

Blending Ame (Ame) - One of my personal heroes - strong, humble, and wise. I am so blessed to also call her my friend.

Not a Wonk (Patti) - one of my newest blog haunts - she's smart, sharp witted and loves to talk hot topics with no holds barred.

Cooking Up Trouble Texas Style (StacieF) - We met on the grounds of a shared love of music, and a lifelong sisterhood germinated & thrived. One of my favorite people ever.

In the Middle - Mad Hatter (Martie) - My BFF's mom, who has become my second mom, as well as a dear wonderful friend.

Simply 55 (Danielle) - A candid writer and a beautiful soul, and a friend who has taught me a lot about myself, too.

Saurly Yours (Saurkraut) - This beautiful lady has the 3 "i"s going for her - Intelligent, Insightful and Interesting. One of the first members of my blogroll and still a favorite.

Thoughts of Laurel (Lori) - another of my longstanding blogbuddies - a true friend with an eye for the quiet beauty of the world. Visiting her blog is always a salve.

It's A Pug's Life (Marni) - I'm just getting to know this girl, and it's great fun because we are a LOT alike! Don't you love it when that happens?

Coffeypot - Okay, technically, he's a mister, not a sister. But he's too great to leave out. Full of piss and vinegar, this one! All kinds of fun on his blog.

Visit my peeps and enjoy the cornucopia of delights they bring to the blogworld!

Now, recipients: with great power comes great responsibility. It's now your turn to pass on the award as you see fit.

Proudly display the award on your post and/or blog template.

Nominate 10 blogs which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude!

Be sure to link your nominees within your post, so others can find them.

Let them know of their nomination by commenting on their blog.

Share the love and link back to me too :)

Sorry to give you homework over the weekend, but at least it's lovey dovey. Have a great day, friends!

More crap that's annoying me

2010-05-05T11:21:00.002-04:00

While I'm on the topic of complaining, allow me to continue.

First of all, a state issue passed here yesterday under the guise of stimulating the economy and the job market here. But really all it does is assure more money for the unions. Well I work for a union company, and I can tell you the last people who need money handed to them are the dang unions.

American Idol's theme was Sinatra this week. Which is annoying because hey, I like Sinatra and all, but all the judges do is gripe about how these kids need to be more current and pick younger songs. Really?

One of my BFFs has had to cancel on the girls' weekend coming up, which is really sad for all of us. I miss my girls. All we want is one weekend, twice a year, to hang out and laugh together. Though that's not much to ask, at least half the time it doesn't work out for one of us to be able to join, thanks to life. What the *Insert expletives here* ! :(

I've got a freaking dentist appointment at 7am on Friday. Enough said on that.

My house is an absolute pig pen. So much so that it may be easier to just burn it to the ground and rebuild than to actually clean it. I can't believe my sweet Hub hasn't yelled about it, because frankly, he should. I'm the worst housewife ever and I'm lucky that he loves me. Hopefully he still does.

Thank God it's Cinco de Mayo, because I need a drink.

Breakneck Moody

2010-05-04T13:41:00.006-04:00

I think I'm going to change my name to that. Yeah.

If you were here yesterday between the hours of about 11:20 and 1:15, yes you did see another post here - I was raving on and on about Sons of Sylvia, who are great. I haven't changed my mind about that or anything. But I took it down because - well, I don't know why. Just because I get on my own nerves lately, I guess.

So I'm in this foul mood today. I should be in a good mood, considering I'm going to be hanging with my besties next weekend at our bi-annual hangtime in the state to the north, which is ALWAYS a grand old event. But alas, I'm grumpy right now.

It could be that I've felt extremely poopy for several days - I've got some kind of stomach bug thing and it's really putting a cramp in my natural charm. It's not enough to make me throw up or crap my pants or anything, but it's more than ample to make my entrails feel anywhere between uncomfortable tenderness and sharp pain. I'm wondering if I got poisoned by that nasty hamburger I ate Friday for lunch.

I was so distracted by my ill-feelingness yesterday that I actually took Incrediboy to school with no shoes on - just his socks. WTF! Normally this wouldn't be a big major drama, except that we live 25 miles from the school and going back home would be less than convenient. So I had to run to a department store (which I got lost trying to find because I'd never been there before) and buy him a new pair of shoes. Which of course made me late to work. Urgh.

Hm, I should possibly save that for my Friday Frags post, since anyone to whom I've relayed it has found it quite hilarious ... but then I wouldn't get to gripe about it right now, so forget it.

Spammers have found my email box, and it's really pissing me off. I was always very careful with giving my email address, and it seemed to work for a long time. But some undesirable has gotten their grubby mitts on it and is now stuffing my mailbox with all kinds of crap - usually in duplicate. I'm strongly considering opening a new address and throwing this one solely to the spam jackals. It's probably time I got a less cutesy email address anyway.

On the other hand, I don't really feel like fooling with it.

The Hub is doing a side job for a sweet old English lady right now. She sent home some jigsaw puzzles with him, which has rekindled my obsession with doing puzzles. I've been working on one that she gave us for several days now - it's a picture of a bunch of cherry trees or something. Normally I can whip out a 500 piece puzzle in an evening, but this puzzle, oh my word - every piece looks exactly the same. Little white flowers on every stupid piece. I've considered giving up and stuffing the whole thing back in the box and moving on with my life, but I've invested so much time at this point I'm staying with it on principle. It's about 2/3 done now. I'm considering hanging myself.

I got back in touch with one of my favorite old friends from college on Facebook a while back and subsequently got friended with his wife too. She is funny and I really try to like her, but she is the exact opposite of me in the areas of social and political views. Not a problem for me normally - I'm an agree-to-disagree kind of person, and I figure if you want to be wrong, well that's your business, not mine ;). But she's really nasty about it. Not to me directly (usually). But she's readily outspoken about how anyone who'd disagree with what she's chosen as fact for herself is not only wrong, but is an absolute blithering idiot. I'm not down with disrespect and I'm about this close to deleting her. I don't want to cause any riffs with my old friend by booting his wife ... but hell, we don't really talk much anymore anyway. I mean, why should I be insulted on my own news feed? *frown*

My arsehole neighbor keeps firing his gun off his back porch like a drunken hillbilly, scaring MBDog half to death. I'm about to go over there and jam that gun up his back holster. Sigh. Country living is so relaxing!

So you see, it's just that a whole lot of little annoyances add up to one big express ticket to the crank train. WHEE!

Later.

Friday Frags!

2010-04-30T07:08:00.004-04:00

Yippee! It's Friday Frags time! So without further ado, here are the highlights of my week - the good, bad and ugly of it.

First and foremost, I got to lay my ears on a luscious bonus track on the UK release of Adam Lambert's new CD (YES, I love American Idol. Shut up!). And while I have a love/hate relationship with Ms. Madam Glambert (it's a package deal for me - Even though his voice is STELLAR, if I'm not watching his beautiful eyes and crazy-magnetic stage presence, I just don't like the vocals as much) - this song is absolutely colossal. I wish I was smart enough to snag the songbar and put it on my own blog, but since I'm not, go check it out at Reality Rocks when you're done here. DON'T GO YET THOUGH! I have more crap to talk about first.

While I'm on the subject of music, you'll all be relieved to learn I got my John Corbett CD after an agonizing 3 day wait ;). It's fabulous and I'm in love all over again. I also love that I love all kinds of music, if I say so myself. It makes life an endless audiol feast. Yum.

You may remember last week that my husband had lost a cousin. Well since writing my previous Friday Frags, he's lost another cousin and an uncle - and on my side, my Dad's best friend passed away, who might as well have been family. It's been a difficult week to say the least. A reminder to live, laugh, and love - right now.

Incrediboy decided he wanted a yo-yo after a guy who does yo-yo tricks visited his school. So I got him a blue Duncan Butterfly yo-yo, against my better judgment. I knew I was sentencing myself to a life of incessant yo-yo string winding by doing this, and I was right. Plus, I have gotten the added bonus of untangling and unknotting the string when it gets all wadded up. Yo-yos are so much fun.

Speaking of Incrediboy, his school had a fun little event the other night where the kindergarten teachers and the first grade teachers had a volleyball game. Everyone was invited and the kids all made signs, lined up and cheered from the courtside. The real fascination for me though, was to realize just how much he's coming into his own. I watched with bittersweet pride as he hooked up with his buddies and they hung out and clowned around together like boys do ... and I tried with quiet reluctance to prepare myself for letting go of him. It will be a while before I totally have to, but it's coming faster than I expected.

There's a rumor going around that I may have been drinking and may have actually only seen a pigeon on Wednesday. But I assure you, it was a hawk. Not to mention I haven't drank in the morning for days.

Happy weekend, friends ~ xoxoxo

Regal

2010-04-28T07:36:00.006-04:00

It was a crisp spring morning today. Frost was spritzed across the ground and a clear night had given way to bright, sharp daybreak. The kind of morning where you feel as if you are seeing the world for the first time. Colors seem more vivid, scents more intoxicating.

As I dropped Incrediboy off at the church today (where he hangs out before and after his day at school), I noticed a hawk perched upon one of the steeple cross arms. He was huge and muscular - broad shoulder muscles and a stance with the confidence age and experience brings. He was the color of rust and cedar and sunsets against the gleaming white cross and clear azure sky. He surveyed his domain like a diety.

MAN I wish I had my camera!

And Now For Something New!

2010-04-23T07:24:00.011-04:00

I've seen a lot of bloggers participating in Mrs4444's cool little Friday Frags project. I thought I'd play along this week just for fun. So prepare yourself to be dazzled with how exciting and glamorous my life is!

Spring is here and that means we've begun our vain attempt to control the yard. being that we live in the country, it's a losing battle. But we try. And when I say we, I mean the Hub. I'll give credit where credit is due. I mean, grass is green and dandelion leaves are green - to me it's all good. But I digress. So the other night he was out spraying the acres, which means we need to keep MBDog inside for several days to keep him from poisoning himself. Maddening for all of us. It's supposed to rain over the weekend, so hopefully that will cleanse the grounds. I hope it will also chase away the weird smell that was out there this morning, which I can only compare to sweaty butt.

The Hub's cousin passed away this week, which is very sad. He just died right in his truck at a stop light, with his foot still on the brake. Weird. You just never know when your time will be upon you.

I have one of my only 3 or 4 weekends per year that I ask for myself coming up tomorrow. I'll be attending an all-day scrapbooking event with my BFF from college. It's a great op for us to spend uninterrupted time being creative and catching up on our crazy lives. Unfortunately, the Hub needs to attend the cousin's viewing and rightfully be with his family tomorrow ... since we're not really down with having Incrediboy in the heavy atmosphere of a funeral home, I'll need to leave for a few hours to hang with the young sprout while the Hub goes to that. Everything always happens in conflicting pairs, right? But ... It's certainly a good reason to interrupt the scrapping marathon ...

I got into an argument with some people on Facebook last night about separation of church and state and abolishing the National Day of Prayer. Actually, I merely pointed out an error in the syntax - that separation of church and state is not even in the constitution - which is absolutely correct - and the rhetorical point of how nobody had to observe it if the didn't want to and what harm could come from people wanting to pray for their country if they did. Well you wouldn't believe the hornet swarm thwarted upon me by hostile atheists. I got chastised about everything from how stupid I was to believe in myths and superstition to how terrible I was to force my views on everyone to how I have no right to forbid gay people from loving one another. Which is pretty presumptuous considering I didn't even mention my religious or political affiliation at all. Whatever. Some people just can't handle hearing the fact that their agendas are based upon misinterpretation. Good thing I have thicker skin than they do. :)

I'm still waiting for my John Corbett CD. It's been 2-1/2 days already, what's the holdup???

That's all I have right now, but I *am* kind of a newbie at this. Maybe I'll add more later. Thanks for visiting!

Renaissance Hottie

2010-04-22T11:04:00.025-04:00

So there is this actor guy named John Corbett. Do you know him? He used to be on this TV show back in like 1990 called "Northern Exposure". The storyline follows newly graduated medical doctor Joel Fleischman, who sets up shop in this isolated speck of a town in rural Alaska. It was a cute show.

Okay, I'll be honest. I mostly tuned in just to get an eyeful of the local philosophical ex-felon disc jockey, Chris Stephens (see above). But if he told me he was a doctor too, I wouldn't question him. In fact I'd be the biggest hypochondriac around, just to have an excuse to go see him all the time.

After the show went off the air, I kind of forgot about John Corbett until a funny little dark horse comedy called "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" came out. Corbett played the exceedingly charming, too awesome to ever exist while simultaneously being single and straight, Ian Miller (left). I love that movie, BTW, and not just because John Corbett is in it through the whole thing. It really is a funny movie. You should consider renting it if you've never seen it.

So anyway, I kind of started crushing on ol' John again. And who could blame me?

He's been here and there over the years since then, including spots like showing up as Aiden on the way-too-chick-show-for-me-to-ever-admit-I-watch, "Sex and the City". By jingo, I'd watch THAT, though *pointing at Aiden*. And Carrie is a moron for not keeping him.

John is just sexy. That's all I'm saying.

So my girlfriends and I got on the subject of John Corbett the other night (imagine that) while we were hanging out on Facebook. I was talking about how hilarious the Greek Wedding scene is, where he's goofing around outside the window and the old lady clobbers him with her purse - and I thought I'd see if I could find the clip on Youtube. Well, I didn't find it, but I *did* discover that John Corbett has been working on a music career in recent years!

Well. If there's anything I love more than a good looking actor, it's a good looking musician.

I listened to a few clips, and you know what? He's really good. I mean really! Even if I close my eyes! Best of all, his style is kind of a fusion of blues, southern rock, and tiny bit of country. ... A very tasty cocktail indeed.

Well, immediately, I hopped onto Amazon and looked him up. The CD is out of print. DRATS.

But! There were a few used copies being listed in the Amazon marketplace! YAY! So I bought one straight away for $2.94 plus shipping. I can't WAIT to get it!

I'm sure the Hub will be thrilled with this latest acquisition.

Moved to Tears

2010-04-21T08:09:00.004-04:00

This song is freaking amazing. I was literally moved to tears watching this last night.

Yes, I watch American Idol. Shut up. Just listen.

Home

2010-04-19T15:34:00.000-04:00

I'm taking a break today from my standard snark to chitchat about the progress of a hunt on which I have been: The quest for a new home church. I've been (finally) visiting a church that we drive past every single day. I'm kind of annoyed with myself that it took me so long to visit this place, because after a month-long test drive, I've decided I really ~~like~~ ... make that love ... this one.

We have been looking for a church we can call home ever since we moved to the country. We've tried this one and that one - given them a fair run - and have not felt any of them thus far were where we were meant to be on a permanent basis. Various pieces have not fallen into place correctly. Some more significant than others, varying from unpreferable preaching styles to "invisibility factor" to geographical distance to doctrinal conflicts to stuffy wardrobe practices.

Now don't get me wrong. The most important factor first and foremost, is if we are being "fed" there, and that it is a diet rich in the Word and low on fillers. I make sure to establish that before I even visit twice. But there are other factors as well. Picking a church is much like buying a home. Sure, you will have a roof over your head and a fire in the hearth with a lot of different places. But does the structure fit your needs? What are the neighbors like? If you are a parent, how is the (Sunday) school system? Will you be able to become a part of this community, or does it just not set right with you?

For me, a church is an extended family. You greet, you share, and you fellowship. The Lord had this in mind when He commanded us to gather together for worship - to not only meet up under a roof for some God Time, but to love and count on one another as family. It's strange to me that we can go to churches and not one person will come up and talk to us. But it's happened, and more than once.

When I first visited this new church, I was warmly approached by and engaged in conversation with more people on the first day than I had been the entire 6 months I'd attended our previous place. It was really nice. One of the people I'd met on that first day was one of the two pastors. Who remembered me in the following weeks. Also really nice.

The atmosphere is come-as-you-are. There are people in suits and people in cargo shorts and flip flops. And nobody notices either way - they're just happy to be there together. Some raise their hands in praise, others don't - just do whatever you feel like with that. The children's programs are wonderful. The music is contemporary but not distracting from the purpose. The pastors are real people who do not hide the fact that they have made mistakes and bad choices in their lives. The messages are unapologetically biblical and effectively applied in addressing current lifestyles and events. I leave feeling better than I did when I came.

That about covers it for me.

When I Was Younger, So Much Younger Than Today

2010-04-14T14:00:00.004-04:00

(from "Help!" - The Beatles)

Incrediboy has taken a shine to The Beatles. I couldn't be more proud.

Apparently his kindergarten teacher has one of those Kid's Bop CDs that has a chorus of children singing popular songs - and one of the songs on the CD is The Beatles' "Help!". We were talking about it on the way home one day and I subsequently pulled out my beloved Beatles anthologies in order to further expose and enrich his palate. You know, the ones labeled 1963-1966 and 1967-1970 - red and blue covers respectively, with their photos on a balcony taken in the same poses several years apart.

My older brother had these (and many other Beatles recordings) on vinyl when we were growing up. I absolutely loved them and I played them almost incessantly whenever he wasn't around, quickly sneaking them back into the alphabetically arranged peach crate in his room when he got dropped off from playing tennis or messing around doing whatever it was he did with his cool friends. One time I was so into the moment that he walked in the house and busted me listening to one of his most rare records. I thought he was going to kill me.

In my 20's, I persuaded a dealer at a record show to sell me the "red and blue" sets on CD for $20 total. Pretty good deal, and well worth eyelash batting at a creepy middle-aged balding guy with a ponytail (he wanted $40). And while it had been a few years since I dusted them off and popped them in the player, to this day I still love this collection more than almost anything else on my CD shelf.

We've been listening to them for days on our commute, and he's really digging it. How cool is that?

In the interest of further encouraging Incrediboy's newfound interest in the Liverpool lads, I dug out my old VHS copy of the 1967 classic animated feature, "Yellow Submarine". This bizarre yet hypnotically beautiful movie used to run on TV every so often when I was about his age, and I always loved the delicious deco-animation, ultra-crazy imagination, and hilarious wordplay put into it. Secretly, I've been anticipating the day I could share it with him and he could truly appreciate it as only a vibrant and uninhibited child's mind can.

He loves it.

Best of all, his favorite part is where Ringo picks up one of the holes in the Sea of Holes, squishes it down, places it in his trouser pocket, and quips, "I've got a hole in me pocket." That was always my favorite part, too.

That's my boy. :)

It's a Gray Area

2010-04-09T07:57:00.007-04:00

I'm one of those people who likes gray hair. I'm not talking in an "oh, baby, bring your gray head over here and ravage me" kind of way (although that's been known to be the case - I'm not mentioning any famous actors' or singers' names - if you know me, I don't have to - ah, I digress) - but in a general, asthetically pleasing sort of way. I don't necessarily think gray hair can make one look old. To me, it says you've lived some life - have stories to tell and mysteries to not.

Take this lady here, for example. I mean, her hair is beautiful. SHE is beautiful. I would love to just sit with her on a big cushy couch and talk. I bet she's got some great stories to share.

Until somewhat recently, I have regularly dyed my hair since I was about 14 years old. Not because I'm trying to be someone I'm not, but rather just having fun with who I am. To me, hair dye is an extension of makeup - used to accentuate. When I realized how many women dye their hair for the sheer sake of covering gray, it seemed odd to me. I'd tell them gray hair is cool. I'd receive a reply in the form of an unpleasant face, and a look letting me know they doubted my sanity. "You'll change your mind when you get them," I'd usually hear. I was never so sure about that.

I always kind of looked forward to getting some gray hair. It adds so much character. Ironically, I come from good hair genes. My people are late grayers.

When I had Incrediboy, I stopped dying my hair. I just didn't have the time (nor the interest) to keep up on non-necessities. My color grew out and for the first time in twenty-some-odd years, my locks were au naturale. I did dye it again last summer, just for fun - but haven't since.

Now in my fifth decade of life, my hair is still independently chromatic. Even my temples, which I understand have the tendency to gray first. When people find out how old I am, they don't believe me when I tell them I don't dye the gray away. They're just jealous. ;)

I have noticed an occasional silvery glint on the top of my head recently, though. Just a strand or two - enough to catch the light a certain way. The Hub, a few years older than I, is also a "good hair gene carrier" and is only now starting to get the occasional silver strand. He's mortified, and pulls them out when he sees them. He wonders why I don't do the same.

I don't because frankly, I think they're neat. :)

Somebody Please Tell the Media that these 15 Minutes are Up.

2010-04-08T09:26:00.011-04:00

You know what? I'm so tired of Tiger Woods.

Now people can say or believe whatever they want about the why's and how's of that situation. Whatever, the guy's a creep. So he cheated on his wife, a bazillion times with a bazillion different women. Bad enough on its own that he pretty much made a total a$$ of himself. But then to "confess", with pseudo-shame in his eyes, that he has a sex addiction? How freaking lame. What a ridiculously LAME, made-up condition.

But that's not why I'm tired of him, because he's BRAVE enough to admit he has this "problem" and is getting the "therapy" he needs to treat it. (Which, by the way, is probably not giving him the same satisfaction as the "therapy" he was getting to treat this "condition" BEFORE he got caught - am I right?). What I'm really sick of is how the media is ALL OVER HIM through this whole thing. Oh see here everybody, poor Tiger is a victim of stress. Oh, look everybody, Tiger is seeking help. Oh, listen up everybody, Tiger is going to make an announcement, but don't you dare ask any questions. Oh everybody stop what you are doing, TIGER is going to talk about his return to golf!

Who the eff cares. Seriously?!

This stupid crap has been going on for months now, too. How long are we going to ride that? I'd really enjoy seeing something that MATTERS covered in the mainstream media.

Sometimes, Ignorance really is Bliss.

2010-04-06T13:54:00.005-04:00

For anyone who is visiting for the first time, you may want to skip over this entry. It's not my usual approach for a post - I prefer to keep my blog on the lighter side of things if I can, or at the very least optimistic. But this has been on my mind today, so I'm going to talk about it. I also want to mention that opinions and beliefs herein are just mine, that's all. I'm not going after anyone who feels differently. I'm not trying to spark a political or moral debate. How you feel and conduct your life is totally up to you ... I'm just thinking my own thoughts out loud via keyboard diarrhea. But fear not - I'll return to my typical nonsense before you know it.

I was reading a blog article discussing birth control earlier today. The blogger was saying that she was against the Pill because of its "abortifacient" properties. I thought this was an odd statement, as I thought the Pill prevented ovulation, that that was the whole point. No ovulation, no embryo, no abortifacient action. So being the big nosey know-it-all that I like to be, I looked up some articles to see what I could find out about this. It turns out the Pill affects several aspects of the cycle. I already knew this, but figured they were all just part of a package deal shebang reaction and not really congruent backup plans for one another.

Here is what I didn't know. It seems that while ovulation prevention is one of the factors the Pill can and does produce, an egg is in fact still released on average with between 2% and 10% of cycles on the Pill. When this does happen and the egg is fertilized, the uterus - also hormonally compromised - has produced a significantly depleted lining. The embryo does not have enough tissue in which to embed, so the embryo dies and is expelled with the monthly flow.

The Pill is claimed to be 99% effective in preventing pregnancy. I'm sure that I'm not the only person who either was taught or perhaps just flatly assumed that "99% effective" meant that 99% of the time no egg would be released, and that's why it was 99% effective.

As a young woman, honestly, it probably wouldn't have mattered to me even if I did know that 2-10% fact. My main concern was to be and remain un-pregnant, and my opinions on where simple chemistry ended and "real" life began were undefined. I still don't know for sure exactly when that is. Fertilization? Implantation? Upon finite formation of cells which become a heart and brain? What I *do* know is that it is a living thing from the beginning - so in order to be fair, I now approach it as such. That's how I roll.

I was on the Pill for about 15 years of my life total. It bothers me that statistically speaking, I most certainly experienced that 2-10% curve, and had embryos die. I didn't know ... it wasn't intentional ... but it made me kind of sad to learn of that probability.

Reflecting Revisited

2010-04-05T08:05:00.008-04:00

I wrote this post almost 5 years ago. In an attempt to reinspire myself and remember who I am, I am republishing it. Hope my beloved blog friends get something out of it as well :).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I used to think I was meant to be a part of something big. Something that would change the world.

I wanted to be an artist. A writer. A musician. Not necessarily famous by name or face, but known abstractly. “Oh yeah, the lady who wrote blah-blah”, or “Those paintings! You know them the minute you see them, they just have that something.” I wanted to make people stop dead in their tracks and contemplate. Most of all I wanted to feel that I had left a piece of myself in those that I came across.

In my youth I was in a garage band, and we put together some pretty good stuff. But we never went anywhere. I wrote. A lot. Poetry, prose, short novels, analyses. I got A’s in every writing class I ever took. I never sent a manuscript to anyone. I went to a prestigious art college. I sucked the marrow out of life there, and in turn the marrow was sucked out of me. Never would one believe the creative process would be so exhausting, and the pursuit of cultivating it so strenuous.

A common discussion art students have with “outsiders”:

Oh, you go to art school?
Yes.
So, you can draw?
Yes …
(wait for it ...)
That must be pretty easy, going to art school.
(URRRRGH!)

By the time I graduated, I felt as though my creative soul had given birth to a herd of rhinoceros. I just needed to rest. I now have a career in accounting. I live comfortably. I have wondered from time to time if I sold out.

The thing they don’t tell you when you cook up your big dreams in youth (or perhaps we just choose not to hear) is that in the process of living, life tends to get in the way. Before I could get out of town to the place I wanted to be, I ran out of money at the hands of paying for my lofty college education. By the time I got some scratch together, I’d fallen in love and gotten married. Then divorced, and back to having nothing again. Then under construction – Remarried - And so it goes.

With time and trials comes wisdom, and as I grew older and more seasoned, my vision of what was really important as far as imprinting the human race changed. My compassion morphed from utopian to a small-bite, close to home approach. Big differences don’t always seem big at first glance. I think this epiphany first hit me in my teens. I was involved in the youth choir and ensemble with my church. We took a mission trip to Florida, and one of our performances was at the state prison. We were all a little nervous, being fresh-faced kids and having close contact with convicted felons. After our performance, we were to meet with inmates to talk with them. If we were nervous before, this really got us skittish. But it was nothing like any of us expected.

I met Fred that day. I don’t know what Fred was in for. But we prayed for his mother together. She was very ill, and Fred’s face was twisted with worry for her. After we prayed, Fred’s entire body conveyed an air of peace it didn’t have before. He thanked me and smiled. I often wonder what became of Fred and his mother, but I know that I, a young girl from across the country, made a difference in his life that day.

Several years ago my mother asked me if I would help her with something. She is a Girl Scout leader, and her co-lead quit mid-year. My Mom needed help with her troop. I wasn’t in love with the idea – it would involve going all the way across town after a long day at the office, to wrangle with inner city girls from broken homes with discipline and attitude problems. But I did it. It was trying, but these girls needed positive role models. And once they felt me out, I could see the changes taking place in many of them, just from having adults in their lives who cared enough to guide them and help them begin to tap into their potential. I too, after getting to know them, found myself way more smitten with them than I ever expected. I genuinely cared about making a difference in their lives and did my best to plant small seeds of self-respect and self-worth in these girls who got a rough start in life.

My church (now previous church - I have since moved) is heavily involved in outreach ministry, and one of the prominent divisions involves providing comfort and compassion for those with HIV and AIDS. A few years ago the Project organized a Christmas banquet and needed volunteers. I experienced an overpowering pull to get involved with this. In a debate class in school my small group was once given the question, “Should AIDS patients be quarantined?” This was back in the ‘80’s, when little was known about AIDS and everyone was frightened by the very notion. What I learned in my research in preparing for the debate changed my views about it forever. Compassion replaced retraction, and there it remained. The Christmas dinner opportunity seemed to reach into me and pull that back out.

I humbly served turkey to hundreds in a buffet line. Most were no different in appearance or attitude to anyone you may come across with any day. But some were different. Some had a look in their eye that I can only compare with those in the eyes of abandoned pets that had to forge a life on the mean streets for too long. I thought a lot about how lonely it must be, to be sick and no one, not even your family, will talk to you, much less even touch your hand in comfort. How they must be starving for human contact, for just a little acknowledgment that anyone cares for them. After dinner I visited with a few of the guests, particularly drawn to the "sad" ones. We laughed, we shared. We hugged. While some reacted more instantaneously than others, each melted into the hug like a child. They have stayed with me these many years since.

For now my schedule as well as my general sulky mood dictate that I am self-absorbed. But my thoughts do turn outward as well. I think about going back to school. I think about becoming a den mother when the boy gets older.

I still think I was meant to be a part of something big. I rather consider that I already am. My perspective of what “big” is has simply changed a little from what it used to be.

Don't be alarmed!

2010-04-02T09:12:00.009-04:00

I had that same old stock Blogger template for 5 years, and frankly I'd gotten pretty sick of looking at it (no offense to my friends who use the same template). So if things look different around here, don't be alarmed. You're at the right place. I'll be tinkering with details off and on, so things may look intermittently strange for a while. The only way I can figure stuff out is by trial and error. :} Just in case I totally mess stuff up, I did keep a copy of my old template. I'm not stupid, ya know.

Wish me luck.

Sweet Dreams, Hamburger.

2010-04-01T10:00:00.007-04:00

My Mom and Dad's dog died the other day. Naturally, they are devastated. I'm rather heartbroken as well, even though they got the dog long after I had moved away.

Her name was Amber. She was a weird mix of possible golden lab and something with a curly tail. She was in her teens and had hip problems but was otherwise in good health. When Incrediboy was a toddler and was learning to talk, he inadvertently dubbed her "Hamburger". To his little ears, "Amber" and "Hamburger" coincided. He hadn't called her Hamburger in a long time, but it still comes up.

She was a sweet girl.

One of my most dreaded future moments (that I really try hard not to think about) is the day Most Beautiful Dog will leave us. Longtime readers will recall that we got MBDog after a long and loss-burdened struggle with starting a family. This incredibly smart, painfully cute bundle of pain in the arse became the center of our world, and we still love him more than we love ourselves. When Incrediboy came into our lives, we never shooed MBDog away and conitnued to lavish him with love. He was unsure of the little intruder at first, but in no time they were fast friends.

One of my favorite things in the world is storytime, when Incrediboy and I will read a book together before bedtime and MBDog will hop up on the bed and listen as well. Then I'll tuck them in together and often there he will sleep with his little brother until Mom and Dad go to bed. I have a bajillion pictures of the two of them snoozing together, but I still take more. I can't get over how much love explodes from my heart at this scene.

MBDog, as you all know, is so beautiful. SO beautiful. His mom and dad were of fine breeding stock and accomplished gun dogs. MBDog himself would have made an excellent showdog. He's practically perfect in every way, except for his herniated bellybutton. (It should be noted I strongly advise adopting from shelters and rescues rather than going to breeders. But this boy may have met an otherwise untimely doom thanks to this "devaluing" defect. Breeders can be cruel.) A few years back, another dog that looked like his twin won best in show at that big dog show, you know the one. She was ALMOST as beautiful as he is.

But beauty isn't everything. MBDog is such a sweet and sensitive boy. He's so affectionate and wants nothing more than to just be with us. He is brilliant, has a great sense of humor, and his luminous golden eyes study us with such great intent that we're sure he understands every word we say. He has taught me things about life and love I could never hope to learn on my own.

He's still in the prime of life, but he's been slowing down. The once distinct line between the white and brown of his muzzle has smeared with encroaching gray. It takes him far less time to calm down from excitement, and he sleeps a lot more than he used to. Those last two points aren't all bad - but it does bring his mortality into focus.

Everything dies. I try not to waste moments of life with worrying about death. I will drink up the serendipity that MBDog brings to our lives as long as I can. When it's time to say goodbye, I'll take comfort in knowing he'll have Hamburger, Shamsky, Copper, and all the other dogs I've loved before to keep him company until we can join him again.

Two Posts in One Day. Holy Crap!

2010-03-31T13:37:00.004-04:00

There's not much happening today, obviously - because here I am again.

My faithful readers and droves of close personal friends (snark) know that I have been concerned not only with breathing life back into this blog, but in also rebuilding a fun little network of blogfriends again. In light of my new inspiration to rebuild and revitalize my dusty old blog, I have been running through my blogroll only to find that many I had marked on there have either deactivated comments (what's up with that?), fizzled out or have been deleted entirely. I've spent a small chunk of time subsequently revising said blogroll.

I was thinking about how I started meeting other bloggers in the first place. I mean, when I started this blog I didn't really know a soul in this community. Initially I started out by clicking the "next blog" button up there at the top. See it? If you click on it, it will take you off to another randomly selected blog. NO NO NO, DON'T CLICK IT! I don't want you to go yet.

But anyway, I thought I'd do a little next-blog surfing just for old time's sake. I ran across a few fairly cool ones. Some of them I even commented on. Then I hit like 37 in a row that were in foreign languages I couldn't even begin to guess. No kidding. I was trapped in such a painful streak I just quit next buttoning altogether.

I know there are plenty of people in the world who speak other languages. But It just got on my nerves, that's all I'm saying.

Patience has never been one of my stronger virtues.

Today's Conclusion: Rome was not built in a day. It will all come together again in time.

Mom Would Be So Proud.

2010-03-31T08:32:00.004-04:00

I can't tell you how many times I've been called a geek, nerd, dork, brainiac, or poindexter in my life. Especially in middle school. But I know it's only because people are jealous. *indignant sniff*

I mention this because I took this Geek Test on line - which in and of itself speaks volumes, I am well aware - just to see how geeky I really am. There were a lot of computer questions and comic book questions and online role playing game questions, all of which I am fairly inept. But I was also delighted to see there were lots of questions to which I could definitely relate. Questions about learning stuff just for fun, voluntarily going to any kind of museum, knowing 5 or more names of Star Trek and/or Star Wars characters (from each series), whether I'd ever been in a fan club, whether I had ever operated a ham radio, and whether I knew the difference between fission and fusion.

I am proud to say I scored dead center between Total Geek and Major Geek. They even gave me this neat and very hi-tech looking HTML code to show off this fact on my blog. So it seems I am geeky enough to be annoying and secretly admired (I know it's true), but not so geeky that I am socially inept and am faced with a lifetime of virginity. That there is what they call perfect balance.

I really think there should have been some questions about Greek and Roman mythology, though. They ostracised a whole genre of geekiness by not representin'.

Worry ... Worry Worry Worry Worry

2010-03-30T10:06:00.000-04:00

That's my impression of Ray Lamontagne. Pretty good, right?

And now for my impression of the Apostle Paul:

"Do not worry about anything, but pray about everything - and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds." - Philippians 4:6&7

... Actually, my impression of the Apostle Paul sucks. I can quote him as well as the next guy, but my application is sorely lacking.

I've been completely stressed out lately. So much so that I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack any minute. I never used to - but lately, I just worry holes right through my skull. About EVERYTHING. It makes me tense, crabby, edgy, and extremely preoccupied no matter what I'm doing. It's like I'm PMS-ing all the time. And nobody wants that.

Spring is the quintessential season of rebirth, so I am going to celebrate by throwing some fertilizer on the flowerbeds of my soul. There are two things I'm now trying to (re)apply to my life. I'm thinking these actions will help with this bad habit I've developed.

When I spend time with God, the rest of my life becomes more serene. I'm going to get back into the habit of going to church and more consciously praying. (See Paul's words above)

When I spend time nurturing my creativity, the rest of my thoughts are less harried. I used to spend frequent time doing something creative. I used to post some creative writing here daily, sometimes twice a day. I used to draw, paint, and make things just for the enjoyment of it. Somehow I've let that part of me fall away. I miss it.

I love spring! :)

Footnote: This is my 400th post. My how many thoughts, creations and exchanges have come through this site in the last 5 years. Thanks for visiting, friends.

The Audacity of "Hope"

2010-03-25T10:55:00.006-04:00

So I guess I was a little fired up, not to mention disgusted with how narrowly many are blinded, with my last post (which I have now tucked away in my "drafts" in favor of posting this one, because I have always said I don't want this to be too much of a political blog and one at a time is enough). I just get aggravated at how quickly and voluntarily people will give their freedoms away for so little in return. How easily many will go along with a giant snarl of infringements when only a few points are outlined. What about the fine print? What about the divine liberties that our forefathers gave their blood and their lives to provide us, that are discreetly reversed within those thousands of pages no one bothers to read and are wiped away with the stroke of a presidential pen? What about the crushing financial and civil weight it will bring to us and our kids in the years to come?

Being against the government having complete control over and access to EVERYTHING in our lives does not mean I am heartless and cold towards those who need help. What people won't understand is there is not just one big huge matzoh-ball answer or nothing. It doesn't matter at this point that whoever woula-coulda-shoulda didn't when they "had the chance". There's plenty of blame to go around for that. What matters is here and now, and what matters even more is the ramifications in the future. I will NOT allow my son's life to be ruined by this asphyxiating package if I can help it.

This health care issue WILL make our entire country collapse on every level. We think it's bad now? Pssh.

America has hit hard times before. But the difference is that capitalism provided the foundation for rebuilding and fiscal rebirth. There was always that fire we could reach toward again. The poison buried within this healthcare package will obliterate that flame - and when those promises are gone, there is no hope to recover the way of life we've taken for granted. NO hope.

I can't believe so many don't give a shit about that.

An Exciting Evening!

2010-03-12T07:39:00.006-05:00

Thanks to an invaluable perk, we are very fortunate to be able to have Incrediboy attend school in the highest rated district in the state. I mean head, shoulders, and elbows above the rest. The community is made mostly of wealthy entrepeneurs and white collar professionals. They pay dearly in school taxes and the kids really do have the finest of everything in both resources and opportunities.

The past few weeks, the kindergarteners and first graders have been working on an artist-in-residency program with the capital city's jazz arts group - an association of professional jazz musicians and vocalists. The project consisted of the children creating their own song from scratch, built on the 12 bar blues form and AAB rhyme scheme, and to perform the original compositions at the end of the residency. The kids brainstormed their own topic and lyrics, and then decided what tempo, styles, and solos they wanted to utilize. Next, each student was assigned a glockenspeil, xylophone, rhythm stick set, or egg shaker - each to be incorporated into the piece.

In addition to the obvious musical benefits of this project, it also allowed the kids to explore organizational strategies, writing, composing, performing, and mathematical standards through predicting and discovering the sequence of sounds and patterns within the music form.

The project culminated last night in a performance for the parents in the community's performing arts center, accompanied by the jazz musicians. The first graders composed a cute song about missing the bus and riding their bike to school instead. Incrediboy's class composed a jazzy little number called "Blues for a Cruise". The lyrics are as follows:

Seas, trees, and the Florida Keys.
Seas, trees, and the Florida Keys.
Seas, trees, and the Florida Keys.
Seas, trees, and the Florida Keys.

Ready to go, wanna leave the snow.
Wanna have fun in the sun!
We've got the blues for a cruise!
There's no time to lose
Let's kick off our shoes
And cruise away the blues!

We're all packed up
And our shades are on
Gonna make a run
For the sun!

Let's go someplace
With seas and trees.
How 'bout the Florida Keys!

Lookin' for waves
Dolphins play games,
Can't wait to swim with the fish
Can't wait to swim with the fish!

The individual class songs were followed by group performances of all the classes of Ella Fitzgerald's A-Tisket, A-Tasket and Duke Ellington's C Jam Blues.

Grammy-worthy? Far from it. But man, what a fantastic opportunity - to learn about music composition from the ground up with real live jazz musicians. I never had the chance to do anything remotely as amazing as that, even in high school. I wonder if in good time these kids will ever realize how cool that was.

Road Rash Throat

2010-03-11T14:44:00.002-05:00

My throat hurt so bad last weekend.

I'm typically not a whiner, but I'm going to go on about this for a bit. Because seriously - I have rarely if ever had a throat this destroyed.

I woke up Friday with a mildly swollen, mildly sore throat, and feeling kind of crummy. By Friday night I was totally wiped out. I didn't even go to Incrediboy's karate class (and I really wanted to, because he was getting his blue belt - a very big deal since blue is his favorite color - but I digress). When I woke up Saturday I was a dead woman. I was feverish and my throat was completely destroyed from my sinuses to my lungs - it felt as if I'd swallowed hot asphalt. I could not eat, drink, talk, or even swallow my own spit. When I looked in my mouth with a flashlight, my whole throat was nearly swollen shut - not to mention red as tabasco sauce and covered with white splotches.

Gross.

I laid in excessive misery until Monday when I could get in to see the doctor. I thought for sure I had strep. After an excruciatingly agonizing throat culture (I literally grabbed my doctor's arm and forced the swab out of my mouth before I even realized I was doing it - and I'm not normally that kind of patient), I learned I did NOT have strep. I was diagnosed with tonsilitis and pharyngitis - which is a fancy term meaning that besides my tonsils being all botched up, the rest of my throat was a completely infected swollen mess as well. So much so that along with a super-duper strong scrip for antibiotics, my doc also gave me a scrip for steroids.

I got my meds filled at the local market, and picked out an assorted array of throat numbing agents, some comforting flavored tea, and a can of soup for my first meal in 3 days.

On the pharmacist's suggestion, I didn't start the steroids right away. He advised taking them in the morning since they tend to make you jittery - and taking them in the afternoon could keep me up that night. I didn't want that. I took two antibiotics during the course of that day and was thankfully feeling much better by morning. God bless whoever discovered the healing properties of all those darling molds.

Since I was feeling on the mend, I decided to skip the steroids altogether. I'm not a fan of steroids ... They help jumpstart your healing initially, but significantly lower your immune system for about a year afterwards. I'm not real fond of that idea. Plus they screw you up with the jimmies while you're taking them - and more often than not swell you up like a tick on a hound dog. I figured if I don't need to, I'm not going there.

Tomorrow will be a week since I fell to the tonsil demon. I almost feel normal again, although my throat still feels kind of scratchy and weird. At least I lost a few pounds during the ordeal.

Now the Hub has come down with it. Bless his heart, the poor guy. I hope we can keep it away from Incrediboy.

Butt Hat

2010-03-02T09:17:00.003-05:00

Incrediboy informed me last night that I am a Butt Hat. Promptly cracking up with laughter.

I should probably have frowned upon that, but I couldn't help but laugh too.

That kid is going to get out of SO MUCH trouble just by being funny and cute. I'm lucky he has such a sweet disposition. Hopefully he will continue to use his powers only for good.

Hanging On

2010-02-26T07:20:00.002-05:00

So, I've still got my blog on life support. Since I haven't written creatively - or even regularly - for quite a while now, and the poor thing really doesn't get many visitors anymore, I've been wondering if the humane thing to do is just pull the plug and let it pass peacefully. But I just don't have the heart. The truth of the matter is, I love writing and I love blogging. Regardless of the fact that my mojo has been on the back of a milk carton for a couple years now, I'm just not ready to let it go. I keep hoping that someday I'll be inspired to really get this blog to breathe, walk and speak once more. So I continue to stop by ... hold its hand ... talk aimlessly a little bit ... change the flowers ... that sort of thing ...

My dear friend Cassie invited me to join a network of writers. Writers of all types, walks, styles and professions. I joined with enthusiasm. While I haven't ~~made~~ had time to peruse some of the other members' blogs yet, I'm hoping the company of other writers will help. If you are here from the group, visiting mine ... Just please go back in the archives a few years. It's much better back then. ;) And leave a short-and-sweet comment so I may return the favor.

It's my birthday, dammit!

2010-02-02T22:26:00.003-05:00

And I'm really enjoying myself thanks to my new take-no-crap attitude in life. I think ** (actual age omitted to protect the innocent) will be my best year yet.

I'm thinking about commemorating the new birth year by ripping a few people's a$$es who are either on my nerves or have hurt me and I've just been letting it go for a while. But why should I do that? Nobody does me any favors in this area. Besides, now that I'm old, it's not healthy for me to keep that kind of stuff all bottled up inside.

Still planning to get back to some creative writing. One of these days I'll really do it.

Be back soon.

Busy Bee

2010-01-18T12:57:00.003-05:00

Time is speeding by. Have y'all been as busy as I have? Just wanted to pop in and chatter aimlessly for a while. ... While I've been busy, not much to speak of is all that interesting, save a few tidbits.

I kicked my fitness plan into fulltime gear a few weeks ago and am happy to share that I've trimmed off 5 pounds already. Yay, me! This is an astonishing feat, being that it comes off with great difficulty since I hit my late 30's. Unfortunately, not eating isn't the same as quitting smoking. Ya gotta eat. And it's hard not to eat when you're feeling hungry. So I've been relearning what foods to eat for the twofold sum of maximum satisfaction and maximum physical benefit. It's taken diligence but it's paying off.

I'm also excited to share that I've found a new dance class! If you've been around a while, you may remember that I've wanted to learn how to belly dance since I was 15 years old. A boyfriend I had in high school, his mom practiced belly dance. She would sometimes rehearse routines for us as practice for her classes. I was entranced at how this mild, quiet, average mom would turn into a confident, sensual goddess when she'd dance - and in her mid-to-late 40's, her body was killer. I always wanted to learn what she knew.

A few years ago I decided to finally pursue this interest. I bought some instructional tapes, which were okay - but then found a semi-local class that was affordable and very exciting. A friend of mine has enjoyed much good-natured teasing at my expense - but I tell you, belly dancing is deceptively challenging. It takes incredible muscle control and isolation skills, and when done properly, you really feel it - both during and the next day. I was loving it, I was getting muscle definition, and I was getting pretty good at it if I say so myself. My instructor was even talking about me being almost ready to switch to the intermediate class.

Then gas prices went up. Dramatically. And my 60 mile round trip commute to the class suddenly tripled in bottom line cost. I discontinued my training.

I've missed it ever since.

This weekend I was thinking about it all again and decided to check out local listings on line to see if anything new had shown up. To my delight, I found a class at a relatively nearby community center that is affordable and agrees with my schedule. I contacted the instructor and we had a great exchange. Her classes run in 6-week stretches, the current one having started last week. However, she was willing to have me join a week late and double up on a class to get my tuition's worth. She currently teaches an egyptian cabaret class and a tribal fusion class back to back on Mondays.

I've become fascinated with the style and seduction of tribal fusion dance over the last few years, so I was really jazzed at the prospect of taking a class focusing on tribal fusion techniques. The Hub, awesome man that he is, was cool with me making last second plans for the next who knows how many Monday nights, and so I am heading to the rec center tonight to get my shimmy on again.

Can't wait.

In other news, my brother is coming for a visit in a few weeks. YAY! I haven't seen him in a good 4 years, so I'm really excited. He's bringing my neice and nephew along as well, both of whom I haven't seen in even longer. They'll only be here for four days, but I'll take it. :) We are hoping to steal away to a portrait studio at some point, for a belated sibling photo for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We haven't had a formal photo taken together since I was 4 and he was 10. So it should be pretty neat.

It's fun to have things to look forward to. Life's good right now.

I'm so Pi$$ed Off Right Now.

2010-01-06T07:03:00.005-05:00

I so enjoy having an aneyurism first thing in the morning.

I'm listening to the news on the way in today. Mistake number one. And our local news guy is talking with some reporter from the BBC. The BBC cat is chattering on and on about how many of the Gitmo detainees that have been freed have already rejoined Al Quaida.

Well there's a shock, huh?

Though my Mom taught me at an early age to never underestimate the stupidity of the common man, I continue to be shocked and amazed at humankind's blindness. These turds are not like us. They will never be like us. They have been programmed from birth to hate us, and that they will be rewarded for anything they can do to decay our way of life. And that's not prejudice. That's FACT. Do people honestly think that a stint in an American run prison, which is probably like a stay at the Four Seasons for these jackasses thanks to liberal crybabies, is really going to make them rethink their ways and carry a daisy in their hand from now on? Are you SERIOUS?

The reporter goes on to rhetorically ponder the problem of what to do with the remaining detainees - where to place them after Gitmo is closed.

Here's an idea. How 'bout HELL? Straight to Hell. Problem solved.

Why is this so difficult to understand?

Rest in Peace

2010-01-03T09:20:00.008-05:00

* * * *

Luckily, I never really saw much combat. I was in it a few times - I don't know if I ever killed anyone and frankly I don't want to know. ... I worked in an orphanage for a while, and that I really liked. I really enjoyed the kids. But mostly I was in medical. One of the first days I was there, a chopper came and brought some wounded in. And I got this guy who was hurt really bad. ... Basically, is entire lower jaw was gone. Just, gone. He kept trying to tell me something, over and over. Obviously I couldn't understand him ... so I just sat there with him. I sat there with him until he died.

* * * *

A dear friend of mine served in Viet Nam. In the 15 years I've known him, he's rarely talked about anything he saw or did there other than getting wasted - an activity that is more than understandable in those circumstances if you ask me.

The other night we were talking about it for some reason, and he shared this story with me. It's haunted me ever since. My heart has ached for this young man who could not express his final concerns, and died in agony - alone and on the other side of the world. Alone except for my friend.

Forty years isn't too long ago to mourn a fallen fighter. God rest your soul, soldier.

A Pox on Zhu Zhus!

2009-12-29T12:41:00.001-05:00

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past 6 months, you know that this endearing little critter is a Zhu Zhu Pet. Unarguably the hottest toy of the 2009 Christmas season. They come in several colors (so you can collect them all). They chirp, squeak, purr, and run around little mazes (sold separately) or just on the floor. They are hamsters without the mess. People were losing their minds trying to score one of these things, and opportunists were hawking them online for $80, $90 or more.

Incrediboy had seen the commercials and knew what they were, but had not especially asked for one. I considered myself fortunate.

I had to work a few hours on Christmas Eve, and while I was in the office my boss called me, telling me the store in which she was had announced they had a limited supply of Zhu Zhus available in the automotive department (of all places) and did I want her to pick one up for Incrediboy. I told her "Sure" - I mean, after all - if you CAN get one, why NOT get one? She brought back the little darling for me, and at the actual suggested retail price, God love her.

Pipsqueak (this particular Zhu Zhu) was waiting for Incrediboy with his stocking on Christmas morning. He was indeed happy to get one, despite his not requesting one. We took it out of the box for our first round of Zhu Zhu fun.

The damn thing doesn't work.

It chortles and coos and makes all the cute noises. But it doesn't move. It doesn't even make an attempt to move.

The piece of crap.

Now Incrediboy is sad and perplexed that Santa would give him a broken toy. When had I not fallen for the hype he would have been perfectly happy without a Zhu Zhu at all.

I'll never fall for marketing pressure again.

Buckeye Mishap

2009-12-23T08:47:00.006-05:00

Sometimes, it seems like the eating gods are against you. Other times, things just work out.

My friend and coworker gave me a nice batch of buckeyes that his wife made for Christmas. For those who are unfamiliar, buckeyes are a somewhat regional treat, made of a peanut butter and confectioner's sugar mixture rolled into balls and about 3/4 submerged in chocolate coating. They are FABULOUS. Easily my favorite treat ever. I could eat about a thousand of them, which is the problem.

I took them home and placed the bag on the kitchen counter. Later on I got that certain sense possessed by mothers that something mischievous was going on.

To my chagrin, Most Beautiful Dog had snagged the bag of treats from the counter, had torn it open and helped himself. He only actually ate a few before I busted him, but left a toothmark or two in each remaining one. This may not bother some dog moms - and believe me, I love buckeyes so much I almost considered looking over them. But knowing his penchant for butt-licking I decided otherwise.

That's a damn shame, having to throw those luscious jewels away. But I'm sure MBDog had my best interests in mind and was merely trying to help me stick to my healthy eating plan.

*frown*

Merry Christmas, my friends!

Resolution Making, a little early

2009-12-21T08:20:00.003-05:00

My husband's uncle passed away last week. He was a Viet Nam Vet, lived life a little dangerously, smoked like a forest fire and wore out young. He was handsome and funny. Family loved him, women loved him, people in general loved him.

We went to his memorial service on Saturday. He was cremated per his wishes, so everyone brought pictures to share and laid them out on large tables. My husband's family is large and full of characters ... the mood was somber, but there were a lot of stories shared and laughter enjoyed with the memories of this ornery youngest uncle. In my opinion, this is a much more beneficial way to remember someone's life than to hover around a box containing the dead body of someone you loved.

The whole experience got me thinking about how short our time here is. It's a cliche, but already I'm a year into my 5th decade of life and much of it passed in the snap of a finger.

I've struggled with varying degrees of depression for much of my life, due to many reasons. Large chunks of my life have been stolen by it. I hate that. I've also had a large portion of being hurt by people I care deeply about. This has conditioned me to be very cautious about not only exposing my inner feelings to someone but in many cases allowing a natural closeness to develop at all.

In 2010 I am resolving to take both of these issues by the horns and turn them around. Each of us is living on borrowed time, and there are no do-overs. It is time for me to step out of the darkness that always seems to bog me down, shake off the heavy burdens laid on me by the mean spirited actions of others and openly embrace the people I love.

It's up to me to make an impact.

Casualties

2009-12-11T15:12:00.005-05:00

My brother was into building models when we were kids. He mostly built cars - very intricate, beautiful classic car replicas. To this day when I smell Testors Paint or epoxy of any kind, I am transported back to those days when I'd stand next to him and ask him insufferable questions about what he was doing while he built things.

One time he built a model ship. It was a fairly large, sailing "pirate" style ship, and the sails and lines were all done in string. It was super intricate and he worked on it forever. When he was done, my parents relocated the school photos from the top of the television so it could be displayed there in our living room.

I bet that thing wasn't even there a day when our border collie got jazzed up about something and careened into the TV stand. The ship teetered and fell to the ground, smashing into a giant, irreparable tangle.

My brother about had a grand mal seizure.

Memories are a funny thing ... I can say with surety that this happened over 30 years ago and was rarely if ever spoken of afterwards for obvious reasons. And for some reason this came to mind this afternoon.

I emailed my brother to see if he remembered this, and if he ever recovered emotionally from the trauma of it all.

He has yet to respond.

I love this letter.

2009-12-04T15:33:00.003-05:00

I've received this by email and think it's worthy of a blog post. Thank you, Harold.

This venerable and much honored WW II vet is well known in Hawaii for his seventy-plus years of service to patriotic organizations and causes all over the country. A humble man WITHOUT a political bone in his body, he has NEVER spoken out before about a government official, until now. He dictated this letter to a friend, signed it and mailed it to the president.

Dear President Obama,

My name is Harold Estes, approaching 95 on December 13 of this year. People meeting me for the first time don't believe my age because I remain wrinkle free and pretty much mentally alert. I enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1934 and served proudly before, during and after WW II retiring as a Master Chief Bos'n Mate. Now I live in a "rest home" located on the western end of Pearl Harbor , allowing me to keep alive the memories of 23 years of service to my country.. One of the benefits of my age, perhaps the only one, is to speak my mind, blunt and direct even to the head man.

So here goes.

I am amazed, angry and determined not to see my country die before I do, but you seem hell bent not to grant me that wish. I can't figure out what country you are the president of.

You fly around the world telling our friends and enemies despicable lies like: "We're no longer a Christian nation", " America is arrogant" - (Your wife even announced to the world, "America is mean-spirited." Please tell her to try preaching that nonsense to 23 generations of our war dead buried all over the globe who died for no other reason than to free a whole lot of strangers from tyranny and hopelessness.) I'd say shame on the both of you, but I don't think you like America, nor do I see an ounce of gratefulness in anything you do, for the obvious gifts this country has given you. To be without shame or gratefulness is a dangerous thing for a man sitting in the White House.

After 9/11 you said," America hasn't lived up to her ideals." Which ones did you mean? Was it the notion of personal liberty that 11,000 farmers and shopkeepers died for to win independence from the British? Or maybe the ideal that no man should be a slave to another man, that 500,000 men died for in the Civil War? I hope you didn't mean the ideal 470,000 fathers, brothers, husbands, and a lot of fellas I knew personally died for in WWII, because we felt real strongly about not letting any nation push us around, because we stand for freedom. I don't think you mean the ideal that says equality is better than discrimination. You know the one that a whole lot of white people understood when they helped to get you elected.

Take a little advice from a very old geezer, young man. Shape up and start acting like an American. If you don't, I'll do what I can to see you get shipped out of that fancy rental on Pennsylvania Avenue . You were elected to lead not to bow, apologize and kiss the hands of murderers and corrupt leaders who still treat their people like slaves.

And just who do you think you are telling the American people not to jump to conclusions and condemn that Muslim major who killed 13 of his fellow soldiers and wounded dozens more.

You mean you don't want us to do what you did when that white cop used force to subdue that black college professor in Massachusetts , who was putting up a fight? You don't mind offending the police calling them stupid but you don't want us to offend Muslim fanatics by calling them what they are, terrorists.

One more thing. I realize you never served in the military and never had to defend your country with your life, but you're the Commander-in-Chief now, son. Do your job. When your battle-hardened field General asks you for 40,000 more troops to complete the mission, give them to him. But if you're not in this fight to win, then get out. The life of one American soldier is not worth the best political strategy you're thinking of.

You could be our greatest president because you face the greatest challenge ever presented to any president. You're not going to restore American greatness by bringing back our bloated economy. That's not our greatest threat. Losing the heart and soul of who we are as Americans is our big fight now. And I sure as hell don't want to think my president is the enemy in this final battle.

Sincerely,
Harold B. Estes

Mysterious Letters

2009-12-03T08:14:00.003-05:00

I ran across a story on Yahoo about this ambitious social project being undertaken by two artists from England. My first reaction, perhaps oddly, was jealousy. In the way that I wish I had as much time on my hands as these people.

I mean really.

But then I decided it was kind of neat.

Read their sidebar for details.

Still hanging on ...

2009-12-02T13:25:00.003-05:00

I swear on my funderoos that I have every intention in the world of breathing new life into this blog. Honestly, has the hour count in the average day been reduced? I just can't seem to get to everything I want to.

Not that anyone still checks in here, but if you do - thanks, man. It's good to know that not everyone has given up on me. :)

I'm getting old and fat. The old part doesn't bother me as much as the fat part. I mean, I'm not shopping at Abdul the Tentmaker or anything, but it's getting pretty tight in the waistlines of my wardrobe. I'm trying to figure out how I can forcibly implement a workout schedule into my life. I suppose I could forego sleep.

Christmas is stressing me out. I'm just not in the mood this year. I've purchased about 8 moderately to severely priced gifts and a handful of stocking-stuffer type things for Incrediboy so far and it doesn't seem like enough. But I'm flat out of good ideas for other things. Hopefully I'll be graced with some wondrous epiphany.

It's only the second, but I'm pleased to announce that I have yet to hear Bruce Springsteen's Santa Claus is Coming to Town this year. Veteran readers of my blog will remember that this is my most hated Christmas song ever. I try to get through every season without having to suffer through this annoying, irritating, off-key, not fun for anyone but Bruce abomination of a Christmas song. I got to about the 23rd one season before some store's muzak punked me. Maybe this is my year, though. I have to keep believing that.

Happy holidays ~

**Post Script** ... wouldn't you know I got SNUCK by a radio station in the car on the way home today with that stupid song? CURSES!!! Me and my big mouth! ...

Autumn Fire

2009-10-26T23:11:00.011-04:00

Autumn is the second spring,

in which every leaf is a flower.

- Albert Camus

Fall is my favorite time of year. It also seems to be the shortest. The peak leaf season is so brief - like a precursory rainbow before the deep dark night of winter.

Usually in my corner of the world, the bright fire of the autumn foliage is doused by a consistent rain until nearly all the leaves have fallen. This year I was blessed with a reprieve on a mild Sunday afternoon. I grabbed my camera and Incrediboy, and we headed out on the golf cart to take in the splendor.

We enjoyed a drive down our quiet country road and headed into the nature preserve. There we took a walk along the nature trail. Many leaves remained on the trees, blazen against the vivid azure sky, and those that had fallen were still vibrant with the pigments of the season. I soaked in the beauty.

The above photo was taken on our outing. Isn't it delicious?

Soon all the chromatic chaos will fade into the brown-gray of midwestern winter - and my eyes, craving color and beauty, will feel malnourished in the long months following. If only I could capture and keep some of the rich and exquisite passion of autumn's splendor, to take out and enjoy whenever I needed it, I would be one happy camper.

Never thought I'd see the day.

2009-10-13T09:00:00.003-04:00

Seeing as I'm getting old and fat and can't drop a few pounds just by thinking about it anymore, I haven't eaten a donut in months. It doesn't seem to have made much difference ... I still have muffintop over my waistband and nothing fits right ... but perhaps I'm not expanding, at least.

But I digress.

My boss brought in a box of donuts today. Among them was a beautiful, perfectly proportioned, artistically glazed cinnamon cake donut.

I decided that, since it's been so long, I'd treat myself just this once.

It smelled heavenly. As I returned to my desk, I pre-emptively licked the glaze from my finger. My brain flooded with endorphines. I took a deep anticipatory breath and sunk my teeth into the sweet dense pastry.

It was disgusting.

The sexy flavors were all there. The cinnamon, the sugar, all the good stuff. But they were crowded out by something else.

Lard. Thick, smeary, gross lard. I could feel it coating the inside of my mouth, as if I'd taken in a spoonful of Crisco. Ugh.

I couldn't even finish it. I threw it away. I've since been trying to get the greasy film out of my mouth with scalding hot coffee and gum. But it's still there.

Never thought I'd see the day that I found donuts disgusting. I guess I've been away from them for so long that my body's cleared out the gunk and now says, no mas! But I never thought I'd see the day.

Tidbits

2009-10-12T09:11:00.003-04:00

9 days after application, my tattoo is looking exceptionally crusty. I don't recall my previous tattoos taking so long to heal, nor getting so icky looking in the process - but I've also never had such an elaborate one done. (Not to mention I was much younger when receiving the others - perhaps I can't heal as quickly as I used to). I've taken extremely good care of it per my tattoo artist's instructions, so I'm trying not to panic. But the linework is really scabby and while some areas are now peeling and fresh new skin is revealed, it appears that a lot of the color is gone.

I combed some internet information last night and read a few sites addressing tattoo healing. It seems that temporary loss of color is common until the skin fully heals and the ink pigment once again emerges. I sincerely hope that's the case. I see what I consider to be a lot of pink fleshtoned area amongst the blues and greens, and I don't want to have to get touchup work and subsequently go through the healing process again. Not only in the interest of avoiding pain, but it's already getting too cold for capri pants.

Wish me luck.

Among other events of late, I've returned from the semi-annual BFF gathering in the state up north. It was a lower-key weekend than others have been, but wonderful all the same. I love those girls.

I'm still trying to get back to more creative (or at the least, more interesting) posts. So ... see you soon.

More Promises

2009-10-08T10:04:00.004-04:00

I've really been missing my blog hobby more than usual lately. I haven't had the time, energy, nor inspiration to post anything worthy in a long time ... But I'm going to try and remedy that in the near future. Stay tuned to see some new things, hopefully soon. I've also probably all but lost anyone who used to read me regularly, so if you can, spread the word so I don't have to pimp myself directly.

All this will probably take place after this coming weekend. I'm going out of town to hang with my Girls on one of our bi-annual weekends. Until then, here's an interesting little blog I ran across. Letters of Note. Those of you who know me know I LOVE this kind of stuff. It will henceforth be on my "fun diversions" blogroll.

See ya soon ...

New Ink

2009-10-04T11:53:00.000-04:00

My new tattoo.
I absolutely love it.

Under the Needle

2009-09-29T15:05:00.004-04:00

When I turned 21, I got a tattoo. I'd wanted one for a long time, and by jingo, in the spirit of doing what I wanted to do and not what anyone else wanted me to do, I got one. It was a black widow, on the back of my shoulder. Back then, not many chicks had tattoos - so it was quite a statement. It was cool, and a great conversation starter. I loved it. All these years later, I still love it.

Any inked person will tell you that tattoos are addictive, and it's a rare person who gets just one. A few years later, I found myself back in the shop for another tattoo. It was a crescent-shaped swirl with a chikara in the center - a symbol for strength. It's also a symbol used by my favorite rock band and incorporated into many of their album covers and set designs. I loved it. All these years later, I still love it.

Not long after THAT, I got a third tattoo. It's something I scribbled on a piece of scrap paper, just messing around while my ex got a tattoo. He thought it was neat. I thought it was okay. He encouraged me to get it, but I was retiscent. Eventually he persuaded me - I climbed in the chair and had a whim-doodle etched into me.

Big mistake.

We divorced within a year after that - mainly because he cheated on me, but that was just the icing on the cake. I'm not going down that road today. But the point was, I was stuck with a tattoo I didn't even really like, and the one who supposedly did like it didn't like the rest of me enough to stay with just me. Nice little souvenir.

Once I got ahold of myself mentally and emotionally, I promptly designed a new tattoo with the goal of covering the mistake tattoo. I really dug it if I say so myself.

By the time I got around to doing anything about it, I'd met the Hub and we'd begun a new life together. He isn't real wild about tattoos and strongly disliked my mistake in particular. I showed him my new design, which he seemed to think was kind of nice - but he really wasn't keen on me getting any more ink under my skin at all.

Perhaps tattoo removal would be better?

I looked into that and promptly shat my pants at how much it cost. Needless to say, I decided to just live with the mistake and count it as a battle scar.

After so many years, I really don't see it anymore - it's just become a part of me, like an ugly birthmark. But occasionally someone will ask me about it, and then I become embarrassingly aware of how much I dislike it and all that is attached to it in my memories.

Through several moves and rearrangements of storage and such, I continued to hold on to my little coverup design sketch. Sort of like holding onto that pair of size 7 jeans, even though you know there's just. No. Way. But, maybe someday ... hell, a girl can dream ...

This summer we befriended some people out on the lake, one of which is a tattoo artist. He's very good. He even impresses the Hub, and that's saying something. I mentioned recently that I still wish I could get the mistake tattoo covered up, and to my absolute shock, Hub seemed receptive to it. WOOHOO!

So. This weekend we gathered with our friends for a football game and to let the kids play. I talked to Tatguy and showed him my mistake, and the sketch I had managed to hang on to all this time. He liked it. He seemed genuinely geeked to do it for me, as we discussed colors and ideas. In short, I'll be heading his way this Saturday to go under the needle.

I couldn't be more excited, and I don't think I've ever loved the Hub more. ;)

Now that the appointment is on the calendar, reality is sinking in. Though it's been a good 15 years or more since I've been under said needle, I still have a vivid recollection of the searing pain involved with this particular one.

Like someone touching a red hot match head to your skin.
Or being stabbed with an acid-dipped porcupine quill.
Or having a very focused colony of wasps play target practice on you.

It's gonna suck. Especially because it's a bit larger and way more involved than the original.

But, I am cool with that. It's all to fulfill my dream of obliterating the last outer remnant of my painful past with some lovely new skin art. All my own. All my decision.

Maybe since I've passed a melon-headed kid now, it won't seem so painful as it did back then.

I hope.

Care Packages

2009-09-25T13:22:00.004-04:00

Much like the changing of the seasons, I seem to be around every three months or so anymore. Sorry ... I've gotten away from blogging. Anyone who's still actually checking in from time to time knows that. And thanks for still checking.

I always mean to get back to blogging. I miss it and I enjoyed it a lot when I was actively posting. So far I haven't been doing too well with it, but I still keep vowing.

Meanwhile, I recently adopted a soldier. I learned of a project going on that is matching willing senders with some deployed men and women in Afghanistan. These soldiers, for whatever reason, get very little to no deliveries at mail call time. Can you imagine being 18/20 years old, on the other side of the planet, fighting for your country, and while your buddies get letters and packages from home, no one - not a single soul - writes to you or seems to care?

Well I'm a rather patriotic gal, and soldiers always get me right there (knocking on chest). They're making the ultimate sacrifice of spending years out of their lives, and maybe their lives altogether, in order to protect our way of life and keep the world a safer place. So I signed up to "adopt" one. The wonderful lady organizing the project has made sure we all understand that these guys (and girls, but I'll just say guys in the slang way) work their arses off and at the end of the day are exhausted and may only have enough oomph in them to take a shower and fall into their cots. So as a sponsor, we may not hear back from them much and possibly never will at all. (Let's face it - your average guy is horrible about correspondence anyway, right?) But rest assured from the feedback she gets from those on the inside, the letters and care packages they receive after months of nothing are a huge morale booster at every mail call. The only thing requested of your commitment is that you send at least a note or card once a week, and every so often maybe a treat or two tucked in. Magazines, a deck of cards, a bag of microwave popcorn, whatever.

I figure it's the least I can do for one homesick freedom fighter.

I got my soldier's name and sent my first care package yesterday. Just a brief note thanking them for their service, and with a puzzle magazine, auto trader, and multi-pak of gum enclosed. Already I can't wait till it arrives and brightens their day - though I probably will never know exactly when that will be. I don't mind. I just want them to not feel so far away from our wonderful America, and to know there are those back home praying for them. I signed my note, "Your newly adoptive mom -- well, let's just say, older sister". ;)

I'm thinking of sending a bag of Halloween candy next week. That should make them very popular. :)

If anyone's interested in adopting a soldier, let me know and I'll shoot you the info for the gal running this particular project. Many thanks to my pal Coffeypot for putting me in touch with her.

I really will try to post more. Until next time ~~

Addition: For further snoopiness on this topic, please visit my new sideblog, My Soldier.

Michael Jackson

2009-06-27T18:29:00.004-04:00

So, Michael Jackson died a few days ago. He was 50 years old.

Like many people, I have mixed emotions about MJ. In countless ways he defined the music of my generation. He almost singlehandedly made MTV the success it became in the 80s. And his vision, talent, and showmanship were unmatched. Additionally, he was a huge-hearted and admirable philanthropist. At the same time he was indescribably strange. Obsessed with surgical alteration, larger than life surroundings, and the company of children. Plagued by lawsuits and accusations of unthinkable offenses.

Most disturbing are the charges of child molestation, all of which he vehemently denied and were settled out of court. I'm not saying he's innocent, because I really don't know either way. But I always found it suspicious. If someone molested my child, I'd want their sick ass in jail, end of story. But these people accepted a buy-off. Was there a chance it was really about money and not molestation? Just wondering.

Those who know me know I'm not a bleedingheart. But after watching several interviews over the years, I truly think Michael suffered from an extreme stunting of his emotional growth. The combination of superstardom at such a young age and the abuse he received in his younger years stripped him of any semblance of a childhood ... resulting in a completely dysfunctional adult. He spent his adulthood desperately trying to recapture the childhood he missed. Had he been an average Joe, I'm confident he'd have been categorized with some sort of severe and tragic mental illness. Perhaps his fans were his saving grace up to this point. I always felt bad for him in a way - I think he tried to be a good person. He just couldn't seem to function properly.

I hope he finds the peace in death that eluded him in his life.

Mom

2009-06-05T22:35:00.003-04:00

My Mom hasn't been doing well for a few years. She's suffered debilitating migraines and has been becoming progressively more disoriented. She sometimes has lost motor functions temporarily and her equilibrium has been off kilter. She's seen doctor after doctor, specialist after specialist, and endured test after test. She's been checked for brain tumors, strokes, diabetes, lyme disease, and everything in between. Meanwhile, her physical and emotional wellbeing has deteriorated considerably.

Finally, a conclusion has been reached. My Mom has Parkinson's Disease.

In some ways it's a relief to know. I mean at least we know SOMETHING now. And while there is no cure for Parkinson's, it can be slowed down and somewhat managed with medication therapy and nutrition. But it's also a devastating pill to swallow.

My Dad was diagnosed with advanced colon cancer a few years ago. During surgery, his doctor found the cancer had spread to his liver and gall bladder. The prognosis was concerning. But after surgery, radiation and chemotherapy, my Dad has since received nothing but clean scans. It seems he's beating the odds. But while it's highly likely she will enjoy many more fulfilling years, my Mom has a degenerative brain disease from which she will never recover.

It's a very surreal experience to watch your parents grow old.

So Much to Do

2009-03-27T14:19:00.004-04:00

So, it's Friday and there's pretty much nothing going on. I thought you'd all love to hear all about it.

Actually there are things going on in a little while - just not right now. Those who read my last post will remember we've been looking for some fun and schedually doable activities to get the boy into. Barring the fabulous suggestion by Coffeypot to get him involved in some potentially lucrative purse snatching, tonight we're taking Incrediboy and we're all going to sit in and observe a karate class at the local dojo. I talked to the Sensei last weekend and really liked his approach and philosophy toward martial arts training for the younger kids - focusing more on development of the individual and their self-confidence, positive attitude and focus, rather than scrambling from one belt to the next. A new beginners' class is starting up next friday, and he invited us to come observe tonight's class and talk to some of the other parents and students - so we are. Then tomorrow morning we have a meet-and-greet for flag football, with the first game scheduled for next Saturday.

Incrediboy is so excited for both of these things he's about to lose his mind. The Hub and I are excited, too. :) This will be enough for now ... and as for soccer, the people organizing the flag football also do soccer in the fall, so I'll be updated on that accordingly. Yay!

I had to go see my doc today about some stupid thing I'm not even going to get into, and he wanted to remind me that since I'd reached a certain milestone birthday recently that I should really make an appointment for a complete physical. As you can imagine, I was so anxious to tend to all THAT entails that I made my appointment right away. (NOT.) Ugh. But NOW, see, I'm on their radar screen. DAGNABBIT! What a drag it is getting old.

I'm really trying to figure out how to work my bellydancing classes back in. I quit going a while back mainly due to gas being so expensive. I have to drive about 30 miles one way from the BFE homestead to the class, and so despite the incredibly affordable price of $5 a session, each class was costing me roughly $60 to $100 a month after you factored in the fuel. Now that gas is back down I'd love to get back there, but now I'm out of the habit. The belly classes are Tuesday nights and Sunday afternoons ... The Tuesday classes pretty much kill my whole night and any time I can spend with Incrediboy for the day, but then when Sunday rolls around I really just feel like sitting on my big arse instead of straining my rock solid abdominals inbetween half-hour car drives. I'm so freaking lazy, right? But man, I'm telling you, I love bellydancing SO MUCH. I really miss it. I have DVDs but it's not as fun as a class.

So apparently in a few short years I've gone from a very inspired creative writing blogger who samba'ed daily with the muses, to this boring person who talks about her kid's sports and visits to the doctor. I even bore MYSELF to tears! So if you're still here hanging out with me, let me just say, I LOVE YOU, MAN!

Have a great weekend.

The Challenge of Sports

2009-03-21T11:11:00.008-04:00

So we've been looking to get Incrediboy into some youth sports to see which he develops a liking toward. I'm a firm believer that getting your kids involved in positive activities - like sports, music, church groups, scouting, etc. - will help keep them out of trouble with negative activities both now and later. And the way the athletic community is today, you can't wait to choose a sport until you're in high school or even junior high - because everyone else has already been playing since they were 5 and will blow you out of any sort of competitive chance.

There are two main problems in this quest. Number one is we live in the middle of what is affectionately known as BF Egypt. The Big City has lots of alternatives, but it's a really big haul to do several times a week, running back and forth from work to home, home to practice or games, and back home again in a constant rush, not having time to eat or anything. I don't think that's a good atmosphere for any of us. Too much stress!

This leads me into the second main problem. The Little City, which would be WAY easier for us to run to, has all kinds of cool things offered through their parks and recreation department - including summer survey camps where kids are introduced to several sports and can get a little taste of each one. That is PERFECT!

Except that it's only offered 9am - noon during the week.

Apparently if you need to work for a living, you have no interest in developing your kid's involvement in organized sports. I ran into the same problem when trying to find a Mommy & Me class when he was a toddler. It's infuriating.

Incrediboy is in constant motion - knowing how he is, we are confident that he wouldn't take to baseball/softball/teeball, considering all the waiting/standing around/downtime there is between individual action. I recently signed him up for flag football, which starts in a few weeks ... he's excited, but we want to expose him to more sports than just that. He's also expressed an interest in soccer, but naturally the convenient spring league for us has their game schedule at the EXACT same time as flag football. What do you know. I've signed up for updates on the fall league, but I was pretty disappointed.

Karate/Tae Kwon Do are a possibility ... I remember when I was growing up, the kids who took karate were kind of made fun of ... but maybe it's not like that anymore.

The most recent brilliant idea we came up with is wrestling. From the time Incrediboy could crawl, he's enjoyed rigorous wrestling matches with Daddy and me in the intimidating ring of our living room area rug. He's actually developed some great balance and strength skills, and getting into a youth wrestling group would be a place where we feel he'd really blossom. Unfortunately, the only thing I've found thus far lists mainly clinics in the northern section of the state, and through one of the catholic schools in the Big City - both way too far for us to be practical.

So I'm trying to be proactive. While searching anything I can think of on line, I am contacting the webmasters and coaches for guidance and suggestions - I'm joining mailing lists and am keeping an eye on community papers. Still, I feel like I'm groping in the dark.

Sadly, I don't have many local friends with kids Incrediboy's age, so I don't really have any personal resources from which to glean advice. If y'all have any ideas or suggestions, please share.

I know. I suck.

2009-03-13T14:48:00.002-04:00

I'm just the world's worst blogger these days, right? Well ... the thing is, nothing much is going on. And I'm sure you don't want to read about that, right? Oh, you do? Well, okay ... just don't say I didn't warn you.

The weekend with the girls was wonderful as always. A rather low-key affair - we hung out, worked on our scrapbooks, drank some booze and ate a bunch of food that was nowhere near being good for us. And we laughed. A lot. So it was a great time!

Since then, I can't seem to get my internal clock aligned. First of all, it was daylight savings time this weekend, so we were losing an hour. But we certainly weren't going to lose an hour of fun time! No sirree. It was deducted from sleep time. Of which there wasn't a whole hell of a lot to begin with since we stayed up till 4am giggling like idiots. I've been completely exhausted ever since. Not that it wasn't worth it. I'm just sayin'. My old body and brain don't fare as well with sleep deprivation as it used to - UGH! :)

I'm in week 4 of my get-ready-for-summer-no-matter-how-much-it-sucks diet. I didn't lose anything last week, but I didn't gain either. So considering how much I ate and drank with wild abandon with the girls, I'm okay with that. But much like sleeping, eating screwy can get me off whack for a long time. I was doing okay before, but now, all week I've been fighting the urge to just pull a chair up to the open fridge door and have a nosh mosh. *sigh*

I'm failing at the 365 book. I was sick with some kind of flu a few weeks ago and got out of the habit of taking pictures. Now I'm just shooting 2 or 3 to make up when I actually remember. Not how I wanted to do it. But I'm not giving up yet.

So are you on this Facebook bandwagon? My Blogarita girls are all on there and persuaded me to do it too. I signed up a while ago but hated it so much I blew it off for months. Lately I've been back on and am learning the ropes. I'm not really in love with it, and neither is Nellers. But considering everyone hangs there now, that kind of makes up for it for me. And I found a dear friend from high school on there (who now lives in SPAIN! How cool is that?) - so that's pretty cool to be back in touch with her. Don't tell Ches and Naive I am saying anything nice about Facebook, though - because they'll just say, "told ya so!"

Have a great weekend, darlings.

Girls Weekend!

2009-03-06T11:02:00.003-05:00

I'm off to chill with Naive and Chesneygirl for the weekend!

We plan on just hanging out and scrapping, but as with all of our get-togethers, I'm expecting unexpected shenannigans as well. You never know what'll happen when we're together - other than laughing until we pee our pants. And what's more fun than that?

See y'all next week!

Unexpected Guest

2009-02-15T11:51:00.003-05:00

Earlier this week, the Hub announced that his brother C was going to be in town on business and was going to stay with us Friday night.

Normally I wouldn't care, but this was a hassle on so many levels. First of all, our house is a wreck as usual. Secondly, we were going to be out on Friday night - all night - celebrating the Hub's birthday. And family or not, I'm not real down with having someone in my house while we're out. Thirdly, C barely even talks to us. He never calls, never contacts us when he's in town other times, never even sends Christmas cards. In the 14 years Hub and I have been together, I've seen and/or talked to C MAYBE 3 or 4 times. He's a nice guy, but seems to have decided to distance himself from the family for whatever reason. And now he wanted to blow into town and stay with US instead of at a hotel while we weren't home? I found that very rude, and even stranger that my Hub would agree.

I'll admit this was bitchy, but I was trying to get him to call C all week and get him to stay at a hotel. I couldn't even believe Hub agreed to it (and without even asking me), when he's never been particularly fond of C's snubbing all these years. All week long I'd present questions and protests - But all he'd say was, "What could I say? He's my brother!" It was all very weird and to be honest, I simply didn't want to deal with an estranged brother-in-law who makes 20 times what we do and would be squatting in my house instead of a hotel while we were out trying to relax. I was pretty pissed at both of them for the imposition.

So I spent last week's evenings trying to get the house presentable, figuring out where C could sleep comfortably, trying to keep MBDog from rolling in mud after his bath, and quietly internalizing a stroke.

When Friday came, I'd finally accepted my fate, though I still wasn't happy about it. C was due at our place right about the time I normally get home from work - Hub left his office a little early just to make sure someone would be there when he arrived. I pulled into the driveway, noting that there wasn't a strange car present, but as I pulled in another car was coming up the road with its turn signal on. I sat and waited, watching the car pull in my driveway, trying to put on my most hospitable smile before I came into view. I glanced in my mirror, looking for C's face.

I didn't see C though. Instead it was the smiling faces of my BFF Naive and her hubby. I thought I was going to pass out!

I sprung out of the car with my mouth hanging open. Naive opened her door and said with a grin, "C is here!"

It took me a good half hour to regain my composure - it was truly one of the best surprises and the biggest fast ones anyone has ever pulled on me. Hub knows how much I adore her, and planned a surprise for ME even on HIS weekend. Is it any wonder I love him? I feel bad for being pissed at him all week now, though in my defense I think I had a right to be with the facts I knew. Now I'm mad at myself for being so gullible. LOL.

So Naive and Mr. Naive joined Hub and I and some other friends for his birthday party at a mystery dinner theater to share some laughs, drinks, and great food - and we had the best time. They left the next morning after a nice breakfast out and some comfortable fat-chewing over coffee. Their visit wasn't long but it sure was enriching. Saying goodbye wasn't near as hard knowing that we'll be hanging out again in 3 weeks for an actual planned visit :).

Hub? Naive? I love you both so much. And you better watch your backs - I'll get you back. Both of you. >;)

Urban Dictionary

2009-02-13T15:51:00.002-05:00

A friend sent me a link for the Urban Dictionary, which has been loads of fun. I entered Clew in there and learned it's a slang term for dog - an acronym for the following:

Canine Lipstick Engine Weasel!

For some reason, that's amused me all day.

Go have fun with the link and tell me what you learn. Meanwhile, happy Valentine's Day! I prefer soft center chocolates. ;)

Blessings

2009-02-09T11:28:00.004-05:00

I have been feeling pretty blue today. Normally I feel I'm a fairly decent person, but sometimes the fact that people I once loved and trusted have turned on me, and the occasional brutal reminder of character flaws make me seriously doubt that self-perception. For whatever reason, today has been one of those days.

Luckily, my dear friend Donna woke up today with the burden on her heart to email me a devotion she received. It was so poignant, and made me realized I am so blessed with plenty of friends who do care - and that I am wonderfully made and devinely inspired, flaws and all.

An excerpt (name replaced by me):

I can just picture my loving Lord several decades ago thinking to Himself, Hmmm...the 1970's are quickly approaching. It’s time to create Clew. I'm going to make her tender-hearted and full of compassion. I know she'll have a leaning toward laziness and inconsistency, but I'll give her victory over that when she's ready. I want to use her to point people to me and to the power of prayer. I want her to be there to lift up the downcast and point the defeated to triumph through My power!

If you are feeling less-than-precious today, pray these words based on Psalm 139:13-14 out loud, and take comfort as you their truth them into your heart and soul:God, You created my innermost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I’ll praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. The works of Your hands – including me – are wonderful, help me know that full well.

New Decade

2009-02-03T14:40:00.002-05:00

I had a significantly important milestone birthday yesterday. And I feel pretty chipper about it! Getting older has never much bothered me, which I figure is a blessing considering so many people fall into a grumpy funk when they reach certain ages. As for me - I'm alive, I'm healthy, I'm blessed, and I only have one or two gray hairs ... what's not to be pleased about?

I've decided to take on a project this year starting with my birthday as day one: I'm going to make a 365 scrapbook. The idea is to take one photo a day for a year: Important, mundane, subjective, abstract, whatever - but one picture a day, specifically for this project. Then scrap them in groups of 7 days (on a 2 page layout) complete with a little bit of journaling for each one. It's just a little blink of a moment of every day for that year. I thought this big birthday year was a great point to try this. Someday when I'm twice this age (if I'm lucky enough to still be alive and functioning) - I can look through it and marvel at how young we were today - and how interesting the otherwise unnoticeable fine details of everyday living can be.

Of course, it will take the deceptively tricky commitment of actually taking a photo every day. For 365 days straight. And I already forgot to take a picture yesterday - on the VERY FIRST DAY! In my typical fashion, I'm off to a roaring start. So, don't tell anyone yesterday's picture is actually from today. Okay? Thanks.

2009

2009-01-20T21:20:00.005-05:00

I was going to try and get back to regular blogging in 2009 ... obviously I haven't been doing too well with that just yet, but that's the great thing about resolution-type things: You have a whole year to complete a goal. :)

I miss blogging. There was a period in time when I'd post every day, and oftentimes more than once. I was overflowing with ideas for creative writing, observations, and anecdotes. Then, my well ran dry. I know that I don'thave to write a brilliant, creative, thought-provoking post every time I log on ... but I do feel I need to have some sort of inspiration. Tonight, I'm just going to jot down some thoughts. Sometimes you just have to start walking in no particular direction to begin a new journey.

Speaking of new journeys, today is Inauguration Day, and Barack Obama is the new President of our great country. Anyone who knows me knows I have mixed emotions on this. The election of an African-American (or half anyway ... I am annoyed by the fact that he exploits his heritage in this manner) to the highest office in the country is indeed a monumental, impressive and exciting development in socio-economics. I certainly appreciate the milestones we have reached with this. However, I would love to get Dr. Martin Luthor King Jr.'s opinions on all of it (another embarrassingly over exploited pawn in this whole occasion.)

I have always loved Dr. King's statement of judging a man not by the color of his skin but by the content of his character. Amen to that. Sadly, I believe that to some (certainly not all, but for way too many) Obama's color was considered way more important than his character. I'm sure he's a very nice and sincere man. But I don't trust him. His associations do not sit well with me and I strongly disagree with the majority of his political and moral views. Much of what he stands for and believes, I think would bring shame and sadness to Dr. King - not to mention that so many of his supporters didn't care WHAT his platform was - only that he was either a.) "black", and/or b.) not Bush. Those are both poor cornerstones. King is a civil rights hero, and rightly so. Alan Keyes' politics and ideals align with King's far more closely than Barack Obama's, yet Keyes is thought of as an "Uncle Tom". Why? I don't understand.

But, it's neither here nor there at this point. Obama is now the President of the United States of America, and I am an American first and foremost. I love America and want nothing more than for her to prosper and for Liberty to reign. So I am giving Obama a chance to for lack of a better way to put it, prove my instincts wrong. The power of democracy - one of our most precious priveleges - has placed him at the helm, and I support him with my prayers. But rest assured I've got my eye on him, and will hold him accountable for any, what one might refer to as, bullshit. I hope the rest of America will do the same if occasion calls for it. He should not get an infallibility pass on his whole administration simply because he inherited a mess, or because it might be seen as racist. It's not racist to expect someone to do their job with integrity and within the perameters of the foundation our country was built upon.

But enough of that.

In other news, Ricardo Montalban passed away last week. That made me really sad because I loved that guy. He was handsome, had a great voice, and was a real class act. I loved watching him as a kid, not only on Fantasy Island, but as the enigmatic Khan on Star Trek and in the great movie, Wrath of Khan. He was downright sexy. Was he really 88 years old?

The bizarre thing about realizing that your favorite stars (and even worse, musicians) are getting old, is it's simultaneously admitting that you are as well. I've got a significant milestome birthday coming up. I often forget that I'm as old as I am, although I do have more aches and pains than I used to - my knees sound like Rice Krispies when I squat down - and I can't seem to get off the couch without grunting. Most people guess me to be several years younger than I am (God love them), and up here (pointing to my temple), I'm still young. And God knows my sense of humor is often sophomoric. You're only as old as you feel, right? But which is more accurate when your body and your brain don't match up? Somewhere in between, perhaps?

Eh, who cares.

American Idol is starting up again. Are you as excited as I am?

Okay, that's all I've got for now. Have a great week, my darlings!

Craziness!

2008-12-24T08:58:00.002-05:00

Hi friends! I wanted to post a quick note ... some things have come up here that have swiftly devoured the hours of the day, and I haven't been back to posting my daily ornaments like I intended to. In case I don't get back to post my final installments, I wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas. May your hearts be blessed!

xoxoxox
Clew

Christmas Countdown: Ornament #7

2008-12-21T14:43:00.004-05:00

The Seventh Ornament of Christmas:
Santa Express

When Incrediboy was a toddler, I had him with me while we were out shopping about this time of year - and I decided to quickly peruse the ornamnet aisle before we checked out. He was very into trains and squealed with an outreached pointing hand, "MOMMA, A TWAIN!" when he saw this wooden Santa Choochoo hanging amongst the other ornaments for sale. I removed one and let him examine it, and of course he became immediately attached to it. I let him hold it as we headed for the checkout. By the time we had been rung out, he'd bent up and mangled he little metal "santa Express" banner until the paint had chipped off.

I bought it anyway, but frankly, I was a little pissed.

Today, the missing paint and crinkled metal remind me of the little boy my big boy once was, who's growing up way faster than I expected. These imperfections now make this otherwise average ornament priceless.

Christmas Countdown: Ornament #5 & #6

2008-12-20T08:55:00.009-05:00

The Fifth Ornament of Christmas:

The Holly Bell

When the Hub and I made it through that first hard year, I decided that I wanted to collect bells for my tree. I was able to find quite a few really pretty bells through the years before they seemingly fell out of style, because I rarely if ever see bells anymore (jingle bells are all over the place, but not these types).

This is my favorite bell. It's gold with filigree holly and ribbons on it. The holly and ribbons are painted with colorful enamel as well as the inside of the bell, and it has the loveliest tone when you ring it.

The Sixth Ornament of Christmas:

The Snow Bell

I got this Snow Bell at the same place as the Holly Bell, as you could probably tell. It too is decorated with enamel-filled filigree and has a beautiful blue enameled inner side. Its tone is slightly lower than the Holly Bell but is of the same charming quality.

I love these bells. I have many others, including several Santas (with clapper feet), angels, and various other colors and styles, but these two are my special ones.

Christmas Countdown: Ornament #4 ~ ... Plus the Gingerbread House

2008-12-18T18:20:00.012-05:00

The Fourth Ornament of Christmas:
The Pewter Floral Globe

My college roommate had this girlfriend one year. She was from San Francisco, and she was absolutely gorgeous. She looked like a brown eyed, brunette Kelly McGillis (remember Charlie from Top Gun?). Not only that, but she was so nice you couldn't help but adore her. I have no idea what ever drew her to hang out with the likes of us.

For Christmas that year, she gave me this ornament. It's pewter colored, but it's very light. I have no idea what it's made of. There are beautiful, delicate hand-painted blossoms all over it and it hangs from a silken cord with a tassel on it. To be honest, I probably never would have picked it out for myself. Yet I loved it from the start.

This girl didn't date my roommate but that one year, and I haven't even spoken to her in a couple of decades. I have no idea what happened to her. But each year I take out this pewter floral globe, hang it on my tree, and remember the lovely girl who gave it to me and the sweet memories we did manage to make.

Additional Festive Photo: I was visiting Martie's blog today and she'd posted her very first gingerbread house that she and her granddaughter made. Interestingly enough, I also recently made my very first gingerbread house with Incrediboy. Here is our sweet chateau.

Christmas Countdown: Ornament #3

2008-12-17T21:26:00.009-05:00

The Third Ornament of Christmas:

My Christmas Spider

One of my weird little fascinations is spiders. They are awesome - I have always admired their craftsmanship, patience and skill. They are truly one of nature's most amazing creatures. Imagine my excitement when I found this lovely little Christmas Spider ornament in the clearance section one after-holiday outing many years ago. Isn't he awesome? :D

I know what you're thinking. Spiders have 8 legs and this guy only has 6. I know, it's always bugged me too (pardon the pun). But since he has the anatomically correct two-segmented body, I live with it. After all, what says Merry Christmas like a shiny red and green spider?

Christmas Countdown via Ornaments

2008-12-16T10:08:00.006-05:00

My BFF Chesneygirl stole a great idea from her blogpal Onebrick, and is posting a photo of an ornament from her tree every day in lieu of "regular" posts during the scrambly holiday season. I love this idea and am going to adopt it as well. Which should be very exciting for my 2 readers I have left.

Like Cg, I have a hodgepodge tree - and other than the usual glass globes, each ornament has its own memories. Just for fun, I'm going to post two of them today. We'll call them the first and second ornaments of Christmas :).

The First Ornament of Christmas:

Peppermint Stick

This is Peppermint Stick. My Mom got him for me when I got my first apartment, because I have always loved bunnies. He is my official first ornament of my very own. Even during the years when I didn't put up a tree, Peppermint Stick always got hung somewhere - in a doorway, on a curtain rod, or from a string of garland. I love him to pieces! This year is the first year ever that someone other than I got to hang him up. Yes, Incrediboy did the honors. I must love that kid very much. :)

The Second Ornament of Christmas:
Santa's Boot

Admittedly, this boot looks rather pretty in this picture. But believe me when I tell you it's the cheapest piece of painted plastic crap that you'd probably ever set eyes on. I bought this and several other ridiculously chincy ornaments the first Christmas Hub and I spent together. We were super poor, having just bought our first house, and had a silly little 3 foot tree. I bought a bunch of cheap ornaments at the Dollar Store for 5 for a buck - just to have something to hang on our tree. We always said that after we'd settled and built our lives a bit, we'd throw out these cheesy plastic junky things and just hang nice ornaments. But I still hang this and all the others every year. They are part of our history, and part of our wonderful memories.