2006

Wet Sands Archives 2006 - My Thoughts as I Knew Them, a diary of Sandra Lynn

January 8, 2006 - Already a New Year?  I should have known!  It felt like I was pullin' some Gs.  (As I get older,  time goes much faster.  I always mentally compared it to launching into hyperspace.) 

On New Year's Eve this year, the only people in the house to welcome the New Year awake were my three kids.   My husband and I went to bed.  The kids did give me a play by play update on the event(s) they watched on T.V. the next morning, mentioning how good Dick Clark looked but also that he was well preserved inside and out of the cold, and they thought that the Fox Channel's countdown was a bit out of sync.  "They were still counting and the ball was down!" was the report.  So as you can see, our New Year's Eve and New Years morning was a frenzy of excitement.

My youngest turned 13 this week.  The morning of his birthday as he came downstairs to start his day,  my daughter officially promoted him from "Puberty Boy" to "Teenage Boy."   He was actually impressed by that.  Seriously.  "Finally!" was his comment, as he made his way into the bathroom.  The official measuring took place.  (You know, where you mark the wall with the kid's heights on their birthdays and ours is on the inside frame of the bathroom door so you can never ever paint that spot because you must keep the official record of growth so it's the color of the paint that was there when we moved in still...)  My youngest is as tall as his big brother and sister now, if not taller.  He's taller than me! 

Yesterday my husband and daughter had to work and I didn't, so there was no reason for me to wake up early.   The boys had been up late playing video games and the like, so they wouldn't wake up early.  So, I slept.  I woke up long enough to feed the dogs, then laid back down "for a while."  For a while turned out to be 'til three in the afternoon!!  Holy Crap!  When I did get up, my youngest son was happily playing with new Star Wars Legos he had received for his birthday.  "Why didn't you wake me up?"  I fussed.  "I figured you needed your sleep!" was his response.  I know why the boys didn't wake me up.  If I am awake, they have chores to do.  If Mom is sleeping, no chores!  Sigh.  Clever of them, but chores still go on.  "Well, it was nice while it lasted!" he lamented.   I must say, I do feel rested for some reason.

On Friday, I wanted to come home and make a Chef Salad for dinner.  I typed to my daughter the instructions for making hard boiled eggs on instant messenger so the eggs would be done when I got home.  Mind you, I never said "make hard boiled eggs,"  I just typed out line by line instructions.  I felt the instructions were needed as I've not worked much with my daughter in the kitchen.  I typed something like, "put four eggs in a sauce pan...cover with cold water...put a lid on them and bring them to almost a boil...once they are almost at a boil, turn them off...let them sit for 20 minutes then put them in cold water...."

My daughter grabbed a fry pan, not a sauce pan, to do this.  (She didn't know the difference until Friday when I got home.)  They wouldn't fit in the fry pan with the lid unless she cracked them into the water, she said.  So, she boiled the eggs floating in the water.  Sigh.   When I got home I said, "What the hell is this?"  

"You told me to boil eggs!" she said. 

"I wanted hard boiled eggs!" I said. 

"You didn't SAY that!  If you had said you wanted hard boiled eggs, I would have known what you wanted!"  she countered. 

"I think you just did something similar to poached eggs..." 

(The dogs enjoyed them very much.)

I originally didn't have any New Year Resolutions, but I do now.  My daughter will learn to cook this year.  She will know sauce pans from fry pans and hard boiled eggs from de-shelled boiled eggs.  

January 13, 2006 - This morning my three kids are all sitting here in the living room, eating Cheerios and discussing religion, politics, people's names and their uses, lack of boxer shorts when you really need them, and other important things..  What a spectrum of discussion!  I throw in my two cents worth on occasion, but mainly I sit here and listen.  How a conversation can go from "burning in hell" to "voting for king and queen for homecoming" to   "right wing conservatives" to "characters you can scroll through and choose in the video game Starwars Battle Front" astounds me.  They talked too long and my daughter will be late for Jazz Band and my youngest son has four minutes to take a shower and make the bus.  Still, hearing their views was very interesting.  

I am hoping a phone call comes in today to announce that my husband has found a new full time job.  Sigh.   He's starting to panic and worry too much.  I hope something comes through today for his sake and sanity.  I have been lucky to be at the same place since 1979 basically.  I've changed jobs, but the environment has been the same.  I don't know what it's like to switch jobs and go to new places.  He's had to do that a lot since our one plant closed two plus years ago.  He had been with the same company for 25 years.  I imagine he's feeling the angst and fears of anyone trying to get a job out there nowadays.  It sucks.  (Sure, I sound all benevolent and understanding here in the diary, but I have spent much time wishing I could have had a year off on unemployment like he did, and I wish I could sit on my fat butt and not do  anything except breath while he worked all day and still came home to make dinner, etc.)  I hate to admit it, but I too can be a bitch.

The puppies were both perched on the back of the couch staring out the window facing the road last night at 11:30 p.m., barking their full heads off.  I stumbled out from bed to check out the reason why they were so upset.  I joined the couch line up, and saw someone walking down the road.  I petted them and said, "Good puppies!"  Sure, they woke me up, but they were barking at something that wasn't supposed to be there, so they were doing their job.  They are still stupid in most aspects - all puppy still - but sometimes they act like valiant watch dogs.  Jake goes in for snippy-snippy-nads-be-gone on the 24th.  Kia goes in for her spaying on Feb. 9th.   I will be glad when that happens.  Jake is VERY hormonal as of late.   Maybe this will take the wind out of his sails, so to speak.  (I hope not too much because I love his personality.  He is a gem.  Kia is more sensitive and closed in.  How do you bring a dog out of their 'shell'?) 

My daughter asked the other day if our family history/genetics has tendencies toward depression or mental instability.  "Hell yes!" I laughed.  (She is taking psychology in school and seems to enjoy that class very much.  The brain is a fascinating thing, to be sure.)  "I watch you kids like a hawk for signs of that stuff!" I told her.  "I'll be damned if you guys go through anything like I did!"  I told her all the issues I had as a youth and the panic attacks and the depression, etc.   She has seen the effects of depression/mental strife in other members of my family.   "Well, something to look forward to, I guess..." she said.   "You can prevent a lot of that, honey...don't wait to ask for help or ask questions or stew on issues for too long without asking for help!"   (Then I boosted her mood even more by telling her she also has a family history of breast cancer, colon cancer, heart disease, and high blood pressure.  "Gee, thanks!" she said.  "Anytime, my love - anytime!")

One of my daughter's male friends called the house a few weeks ago, and when he asked to talk to my daughter I said, "Hang on a minute, Hon - I'll call her..."   Later he told my daughter that "your Mom called me 'hon' but I don't know her..."  You know, I was almost shocked.  I mean, I call every one 'love' or 'dear' or 'hon' or 'idiot' or 'turd head' depending on the person/time/mood.  Never once have I considered how this might offend someone!!  Sigh.  My personality is LARGE and all consuming normally, and I will not change my ways in the near future I'm pretty sure about that - it just gave me something to ponder, dear.

January 20, 2006 - Tuesday my daughter had French verbal exams after school, so she did not bring home her little brother from middle school.   He was supposed to ride the bus home.  When my daughter got home,  she called me at work at about 3:10 p.m.  "Where is my brother?" she asked.   "He's not home?!!" I said in a concerned worried voice, as I was genuinely panicked.  "The puppies are still in their cage and he's not here!   There are not messages on the machine, either."  You could tell she was worried about him.  She loves her little brother.  She can love him at the same time she's tripping him or smacking him upside the head or causing him bodily harm in general.  They have a good relationship.  Naturally, when he wasn't where he was supposed to be, she was in a tizzy. 

"Call the middle school and have them page him.  If they can't find him, start calling the neighbors.   Start with Curtiss next door, work your way south!" I instructed her.  We hung up and I was beside myself.  One of my biggest fears (aside from dying) is not knowing where my babies are.  I kept trying to call the house.  The phone was always in use, but I kept trying.  It rang, for we have call waiting, but my daughter didn't flash over.  Finally I saw my message light flashing on my phone.  While I was panic dialing my house, my daughter was leaving me a voice mail!  It went something like this...

"Ok, so I called the middle school and when he wasn't there I called Curtiss' house, and low and behold my douche bag of a brother was over there.  He had forgotten his house key and was locked out.  He's on his way back now..."

I had to laugh.  I know she was worried.  I know she was frustrated.  Her verbal abuse and name calling indicated this.  I called her back and told her to have "the douche bag" call me when he got in the door.  When he called, I told him it was a GOOD thing he went to the neighbors, as this was always pounded into their brains when they were little, but I also hollered at him for not calling me at work or leaving a message for his sister on the home machine.  "I don't have your number at work and I didn't think about callin' home..." he drawled.  (He is 13 and talks like a cave man with clicks and grunts in a very deep voice now.)

When I got home, the minute I walked in the door, I made him get out his school planner and write down important numbers.  I thought that had been done at the beginning of the school year, but he assured me that was "last year, duh Mom!"   We wrote down all the vital phone numbers he may need.  I quizzed him on our home number and address.  "Mom, I'm not SIX!" he complained.  "If you can't think to call home and leave a message for someone that you are at the neighbors because you forgot your key, then you are six!" I countered. 

January 22, 2006 - Ahhhhhhh....early Sunday morning when all is quiet and I can just sit and relax.  (I used to hate Sundays when I was kid.   I hated them with a passion.  Oh, I didn't mind the big Sunday dinner after church or the massive amount of dishes there were to do after that dinner, it was because everyone would go to bed early on Sunday nights in my house because work was the next day or school.  I would lay awake on Sunday nights feeling quite alone in the world.)   Now I seem to always wake up early on Sunday so I get some 'Sandy' time - some quiet time.  I get a whole hour or so to sit on the toilet reading until my legs fall asleep, or typing here in the diary (no, I'm not doing this on the toilet), or just not doing anything specific in general for anyone but myself.  I can sip my coffee and lounge about like I own the joint mostly, unless I make too much noise. 

I have to be very quiet while doing this 'Sandy' time stuff on Sunday mornings, or the crowds begin to filter in.   First it's the cats who hear me.  Sunday morning is the perfect time for each cat to get in quality time with "Mom" and they take advantage of it.  Each cat has it's needs when it comes to attention.  Taffy likes his face pulled back while you are petting him.  He likes it rough.  Muffy insists on intense ear itching and belly rubs and will tell you when he's had enough attention by biting my hand in a loving way.  Stewie, who still thinks he's three inches long when he is, in reality, now the size of Pluto thinks he must be nestled in my neck while getting attention which leads to him drooling down my back.  Of course, after all the cats have had proper attention paid, they tend to play (play = beat each other senseless) which causes the dogs to come down because they are the World Police of all cat fights.   They must be present to protest the fur flying.  After they force the cats to find proper hiding places, they notice I'm awake and start the butt gyrating ritual of morning greetings.  After the greetings, they must be let out for morning toilet, and then they must be fed and then they are content with attention and a full stomach and play (play=beat each other senseless and run through the house like naked drugged hippies.)   That, in turns, leads to everyone waking up because the dogs have bounded over and on them several times during "play" and the puppies are not really built to 'bound' gracefully as they are over 60 lbs. each....

OK, now I am thinking these Sunday mornings are not as quiet and relaxing as I had presumed!  A girl can dream...

I just cleaned out a cabinet where I keep my garbage bags and potatoes and onions.  It was filthy!  I can't believe how places in a home can collect so much dirt!!  (I can't believe I didn't clean it for so long that it DID collect so much dirt!)  I live in a very small house.  Cleaning it should not be rocket science.  Sigh.  There are so many cobwebs in the laundry room I am sure they have their own zip code by now.  I suppose I will conquer that mess today as well.

I had to go into talk to my doctor about my yearly blood work.  My overall cholesterol reading was 193, but my tryiglyceride level was 243!!  That smacked me in the face hard!  Holy Crap!   "People with high tryiglyceride levels most likely eat out a lot..." she said.  "We don't eat out that much!  I can't afford it!" I whined defensively.  "Do you drink a lot of 'real' pop?" she asked.  "I drink water and ice tea and coffee.  I have a Pepsi once in a while..." I whimpered.  "Do you eat a lot of pizza?" she continued to drill me.   "We have pizza once a week, yes!" I confessed.  "Don't eat pizza once a week.  Try it just once a month!" she suggested.  My son had come along with me to the doctors because I had picked him up sick from school and squeezed a visit in with me to have him checked out.  My doctor gave my son a lecture, too, and he listened.  It was his birthday the day we went, and we were going to stop and pick up Little Caesers Pizza on the way home, but we decided we wouldn't after the doctor's visit.  Since then I have not made cookies, cakes, or pies.   I have not purchased these items, either.  I have not brought home junk food in any mass amounts.  (I buy pretzels and the like instead for 'treats' for the kids.)  For some reason, knowing my tryiglycerides level was so high really had an effect on me.  It made me think.  I have been eating healthy now for a week plus.  I have lost only three pounds, but I have not started any exercise program of any type.  I have just consumed more wisely.  If I continue this and don't exercise, I figured I could lose almost 70 lbs. in one year just by NOT eating like a pig.   Amazing.  However, there have been issues...

I had no idea what a compulsive eater I was.  I had been doing pretty well, eating healthy and cooking healthy and all, when one day one of the guys at worked offered me a cookie.  Just one cookie.  I declined his offer at first, but he said, "Life is short - Have a cookie!!"  So I had one cookie.  OH MY GOODNESS!  That one cookies was like heaven.  It almost made me cry.  Instantly, I wanted more and more.   If I had the box, they would have been gone.  It was then I realized how bad I was at controlling my need to eat.  I can't.  I mean, if it is in the house, I must eat it.  Last night, if there had been a cake in the house I would have consumed the whole thing by myself, as I was having a terrible craving for sweets.  I mentioned to my oldest son how good a Three Musketeer bar would taste.  "Yep, it would taste good!" he said, but didn't offer to go on a junk food run.  (Thank goodness!  I would have attacked him at the door when he got back and most likely eaten his forearm to get to the stuff in the bag.)  My friend Judy told me I had to have sweets or something I craved once in a while so I don't go insane.  "You don't need a lot, just enough to savor and enjoy.  Then you won't go nuts."   However, when I think of buying something to calm my needs, I worry that I would eat the whole damned bag of that something.  I would have to have someone lock it away.  It is nice to know this 'thing' within me, though.  Knowing yourself is a long process.  (We usually figure life out just about the time we bite the "Big One.")  I am still in awe of the fact that just by seeing my tryiglyceride level on paper that I felt the need to reverse that.  I have been heavy and out of shape for years, and it hasn't bothered 'who I am' in my mind.  I am still active and I can bend over and I have been happy with myself.  However, that readout of my blood work just shook me by the shoulders.  "Just because YOU are happy doesn't mean your innards are happy!" was the thought in my brain. 

I have always pictured the workings of my body in odd ways.  I have used this "picture" or scenario of the workings on my inner self to ease pain or panic for years.  I see my brain as a control center with lots of scientific types sitting at consoles watching the way things go and issuing orders.  Then there are others down below that are in charge of major organs, like commanders of their own sectors.  Then there are the workers or grunts that do all the hard work of keeping things working properly.  When I have severe pain or I am sick, I can imagine the process inside of me to isolate the pain and get rid of it, everyone inside doing their job to find and conquer the germs/pain/evil intruders.   It normally works, and is quite entertaining actually, but seldom does this "mental review" take place without me starting it first.  After seeing my bloodwork results, though, the "scientific types at the brain consoles" kicked in and took over.  I found that fascinating.  Obviously my 'self' knew I needed something before I did.  The human body rocks.

February 3, 2006 - When the President said that we American's were addicted to oil, not only did I think to myself, "Well, DUH!" - I also pictured that Robert Palmer's video for "Addicted to Love" but with President Bush in a suit in the front and a bunch of Arab males with guitars in the back.  I also had to modify the words for this mental video (my sincere apologies to Mr. Palmer - may he rest in peace) which follow:

Addicted To Oil
      (sung to the tune by Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love¨)

      Your lights are on, but you're not home
      Yet your electric bill seems over blown
      Your heater runs at double time
      Another bill will break your spine

      You can't pay, you can't sleep
      There's so much debt, you're in deep
      Your car's on "E" and going slow
      Will it get to work?  Who's to know

      Whoa, we'd like to think that we're immune to the stuff, oh yeah
      It's closer to the truth to say we can't get enough
      We're gonna have to face it, we're addicted to oil

      Fossil fuel supplies are low
      We need to find new ways to "go"
      We need to walk, or buy a horse
      Fund research... find a new course

      Harness wind
      it can be done
      Or utilize
      juice from the sun
      We can't go on...that sucking sound's
      from draining oil out of the ground

      Whoa, we'd like to think that we're immune to the stuff, oh yeah
      Face up to the truth that carpoolings not enough
      We're gonna have to face it we're addicted to oil

February 4, 2006 - If China is threatening our manufacturing future, wouldn't they be 'addicted to oil' as well?  Why aren't their leader(s) getting up and telling them all that they are addicted to fossil fuel and need to find something else to power their world domination attempt, perhaps in the form of a very large hamster wheel powered by people?  Shouldn't they be concerned?  What about killer bees?   Could we not harness their wing/wind power instead of fearing them?  These and other questions loom in my mind today....

This whole last week I was wired for sound..  Hyper at work was I, and I got much done.  I also felt I could have done one USO show a night and painted the house.  That feeling finally passed on Friday night when I got home.  All the steam in my sails when pffffffttttt and the hyper was sucked from me like so much shake from a cup. 

Today I've done nothing so far except prepare homemade chicken noodle soup.  Since my husband is unemployed again, I have been letting him do the laundry.  It just breaks my heart, but how can I deprive him of something to do to occupy his mind?  He has signed up for classes to learn how to proper present yourself to an employer and do a proper resume.  (Which is all well and good if there were jobs around here to present yourself to!)  At least it will keep him off the streets and out of trouble.  You know how boys can get.

February 5, 2006 - Just two and a half hours to my east the frenzy of the Superbowl is taking place.  I am not a major football fan, so I am not too concerned about this.  I bet Detroit is feeling it, however.  I have attempted to drive downtown Detroit a total of one time in my life which makes me an expert, and I have no clue how those limousines are doing it.  There is barely enough room for normal cars, in my opinion, to navigate properly.  Props goes to the drivers who can get one of those things around a corner without taking out six people and a light post.

The puppies are fighting over a well chewed piece of rawhide bone.  They have two NEW rawhides laying on the floor, mind you, but it seems that the prechewed ooey gooshy one is the prize.  Go figure.  The puppies survived their 'fixing' and when we picked them up, you couldn't tell they had been sedated.  We took them yesterday to get their stitches out.   Kia was good and laid there.  Jake fought it all the way.  Jake is sixty pounds of puppy muscle.  It was quite fun.  My son was rapidly feeding treats to Jake as I held him up so the technician could remove the stitches.  Kia wanted to help, which means she was in the way so my son had to hold her with one hand and manage to pump in distracting treats to Jake with the other.  (The fine motor skills required to play video games finally paid off!)  Even after having their surgery, they didn't have an issue going into the vets office.  They dragged us in!  "There are TREATS in there, woman!" I could almost hear Jake saying.  I've had other pets that swore off going to the doctors after their 'fixing' procedures.  "You are NOT taking me in there again!"  they would bark/meow as they spread eagle, clawing the door frame.

Doesn't Iran act like a neglected child?  They are acting up and out lately to the chagrin of the world and they are pushing all of our buttons.  I think Iran needs to go to therapy with all of us to work out their issues.  I think Iran needs to be grounded for the weekend with   no T.V. and cell phone.  Plus Muslims are burning things down and protesting about a cartoon of their prophet that appeared in a Danish newspaper.   If we rioted every time God, Jesus, Buddha, Bush, or Rice were in a cartoon in the United States, we'd all be in jail.  They have no sense of humor, do they?  They need to lighten up a bit.  So it's OK to hold someone hostage and cut their head off in a video on the internet, but they can't let a stupid cartoon of Mohammed be?  I wish Gary Larson had not retired...he could have had a hay day with this issue.   Where are you, Gary?

February 7, 2006 - I was thinking yesterday how cool it used to be when I was a kid to walk outside after a good snow and be able to walk on top of the snow.  (Apparently I was small enough as a child be able to walk on the crusty top of the snow without breaking through like a ton of bricks.)  I remembered the feeling way back when...not quite like Jesus walking on water, but I am sure I felt rather stately and queenly doing this.  By remember stuff like this from way back when, I am grateful that I still have the power of imagination in me at my ripe old age of 45.  This aspect of me sometimes scares people, but I cannot help it.  My marvelous imagination should make the transition into mental dementia in my old age go much smoother, don't you think?  Today at work I cut out snow hearts from the crusty topped snow and propped them up on the picnic table, and then the letters "L  O  V  E" ... I thought it was adorable but most people think Valentine's Day is a commercial evil, and are not into the whole hearts thing.  I love the hearts.  I love the shapes and the colors.  I was decorating at work today, and my coworker Tadd refused to have me put hearts outside his door.  Party pooper.  Geez.  Men!  He's still getting a Valentine next week, like it or not!!

Thanks to Esther for catching my dating error!  I am happy I have not done the same thing on checks and the like, using 2005!! 

My son dropped his trombone and did a number on the slide.  The repair shop called today to let me know they couldn't fix it, but they could replace the whole slide.  Sigh.  Another 200 dollars out the window.  I gave my youngest a stern talking to, explaining that trombones were not disposable, etc.  "Yeah, Yeah!" he replied.  Reminds me of that one cartoon by Gary Larson;  the 'Blah Blah Ginger' Cartoon ...

What you say to your son, "Bad Bad Son, you dropped your trombone!  Do you think I'm made of money?  You have to be more careful!" 

What your son hears, "Blah blah SON, blah blah blah blah blah!  Blah blah blah blah blah?   Blah Blah!"

My daughter has been sick.  Snot, coughing, sick feeling.  Of course, this is a BUSY week, so being sick is getting in the way.  She has Pit Band practice for the musical.  She has work.  She has trombone lessons.  She has to practice with her piano accompanist for Solos.   She has the Brass and Drum group "Legends" to go to.  She was just in the kitchen practicing her Solo and Ensemble piece for this Saturday's District event.   She's wasn't having much luck, so she plopped down in the chair to say, "I SUCK!"  I swear she was near tears.  (I guess if I was stressed and sick, I would be near tears too.)  I gave her a stern pep talk nonetheless.  "Get back in there!  Start that piece at the beginning and play it all the way through.   Remember your dynamics!  If you screw up, stop and start over!  Keep doing it until you play it through without any mistakes!  You've been blowing on that thing for seven years now, I'll be damned if you give up now!"

What my daughter probably hears, "Blah blah blah blah YOU SUCK blah blah blah blah blah blah blah YOU SUCK blah blah blah blah!"

Sigh.  I just stood behind her and watched her play.  She did just fine.  Only two major spots she needs to really work on.  I yelled at her again for being upset over nothing.   She is a drama queen!  Geez.  "I have to get a #1 rating, Mom!   I just have to!" she said.  Of course it would be nice but if she doesn't, nobody gets their lips chopped off so she shouldn't worry so much!  I notice she plays better if someone is watching...I guess I'll go stare at her and pretend I know all there is to know about trombones.  (I do know that new slides are 200 bucks, so I have that going for me!)

February 11, 2006 - I came up with (what I thought was) a hilarious zinger at work the other day, about sitting three to a seat during seasonal load limits, and nobody 'got it.'  I was just stunned.  When I'm stunned, I take a surveys.  

(For those of you who also do not know what the heck I'm talking about;  all during my bus riding career during elementary and up, pre-spring and early spring were times of loathing the bus ride to school.  The Department of Transportation (or some group of evil adults with a piss poor sense of humor) would put up the evil "SEASONAL LOAD LIMITS IN EFFECT" signs everywhere, which meant we would soon be sitting three to a seat all bunched up to the front of the bus.  The front axle is a load bearing axle apparently, or all of the weight from the riders over one axle stopped the road from exploding as it thawed or something...I forget exactly what the reason was...but we all hated being crammed three to a seat because you knew you would always get stuck with at least one kid with a tuba, and you never knew just how many kids had tubas until SEASONAL LOAD LIMITS went into effect, and as as your legs fell asleep under the weight of said tuba on the way to school you would glance back periodically to the back with all those empty, open seats and dream...)

Anyway, I took a survey.   Tadd and Shawn never had to sit three to a seat during the spring time thawing and load limit season.  They are young, however, and maybe they had sturdier roads where they grew up or maybe they didn't ride a bus to school.  They had no idea what riding three to a seat was all about.  Doug, who is a hair older than I, and one I thought for sure would have had to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune on the bus as I had, also had no idea what I was talking about.  Sigh.  (It was at that moment I realized how much I depend on Dougie at work to back me up when I wax poetic or tell stories about the  'good old days' way back when to a group of young ones, so it was a reality wake up call when even he didn't know!)  I was desperate to have someone confirm my memory of this, so I called my old high school friend, Linda, who works as at the Transportation Office at the schools, and I begged her to agree with me even if I was suffering from some freakish mind degenerating disease that created false memories.  She said, "Yes, we used to do that!"  Then she explained why they don't do that anymore.  THANK YOU, LINDA!  I felt vindicated.  I stuck my tongue out at Doug and said, "Neener neener neeeeeeeeener!" and went back to work. 

February 14, 2006 - Happy Hearts and Hugs Day!  I love Valentines Day.  I love all the hearts and the colors and stuff.  Yes, it's over rated as a 'holiday' - but I think any excuse to tell someone how you feel is a good excuse. 

Oh my - I have been laughing and laughing at all the little comedy bits, songs, snippets that have poured into the media after the accident that Mr. Channey had hunting in Texas.  I am sorry for the lawyer he shot, but the humor that instantly exploded out of that incident is amazing!   It's as if people had stuff just WAITING for this exact moment!  My favorite so far..."Channey's Got a Gun."  (To the Aerosmith song Jamie's Got a Gun...)  Smile

Last Friday night my daughter and youngest son went shopping.  I got THREE new pairs of shoes!   THREE!  Wow!  I get shoes for myself maybe every five years.  I love my one pair so much I have hardly taken them off since I got them.  (However, went I walked into work yesterday morning, I forgot I had on new shoes and hit one of the shiny slippery tiles and wiped out.  I came in the front doors just talking away to Cindy, who mans the front desk.  One second I'm blabbing, then next second I'm still blabbing to her but sprawled out all over the floor.  I found it hilarious, but she is an HR person and was very concerned.  If I were Cindy, though, I would have been busting a gut as soon as I was out of earshot.)  Anyway - the kids and I had a marvelous time shopping.  I love being with my kids.  By the time we finished it was almost nine-o-clock, and my daughter was SO TIRED she could barely move.  When we wheeled the cart to the car, my youngest son said to his sister, "You get in the car and sit down, I'll take care of this."  AWWWWWWWWWW.  How sweet!  He knew his sister was pooped out and he was being all manly and stuff!  AWWWWWWW.   I thought about this on the way home and started crying, because I was so overwhelmed with the fact I have really cool kids and I am basically a lucky woman.

My daughter received a '2' at the Solo and Ensemble event on Saturday.  As she said, she 'biffed' the first part, but recovered and did really well on the final part of her solo.  The judge was verbally kind so it took out any sting from the rating.  My oldest and youngest son came with us, so after the festival we all went to dinner at Ci Ci's Pizza.  We had a fun fun afternoon.  My daughter looked so different after the event was over.   Prior to that she looked like death warmed over.  After we ate lunch, she looked like a comatose angel in the front seat.  "I am so glad it's over!" she sighed.  As Forest Gump once said, "One less thing..."

February 26, 2006 - So the other day I'm in the ladies bathroom finishing up what I went in to do when I stepped on my skirt which had yet to be hoisted into position.  The skirt I was wearing has a silky feel, so it is no doubt made from a form of durable synthetic material that they coat the outside of the Shuttle with.   Me stepping on my skirt put that leg and skirt into motion at an amazing rate of speed.  My brain immediately stated, "Oh No You Aren't! You are NOT going to do the splits!"  I informed my brain that I had no intention on doing the splits, although at the moment it seemed immanent as I clutched at the toilet paper dispenser.  My brain continued to be a big help.  "Pull UP, Pull UP!   You can't DO the splits!  You haven't safely done the splits since the late '70s!!  Do you realize what this will do to your muscles on the inside of your thigh?   Do you really want a co-worker to find you writhing on the floor in pain with your undies and skirt snapped from you like a rubber band?" my brain raved.  It all seemed to be happening in slow motion, but I'm sure it was just a second or two for all of this to take place.  Fortunately the total separation of my leg from my hip was stopped by the base of the toilet.  Once my foot got wedged on the toilet, I was able to get a hold of my skirt and yank it up enough to give my foot traction.  It was close, though...too close. 

My son goes today to a pool party for one of his friend's 13th Birthday.  This is a good thing, as he needs to do more stuff with friends.  He relies too much on being entertained by his big brother and his big sister.  His sister will be off to college next fall, plus she is already too deep into her activities to be around for him.  Eventually Big Brother will move out and my youngest will be an 'only child.'  It will be hard on him to deal with the 'only child' aspect.  He's always been included in sibling events, play, and/or lives in general.  I dread the day he's solo in the house.  Sigh.   We'll have volunteer to house a foreign student just so he has someone around.   I pity the puppies the most, as they will be drowned in attention when he's bored, and that will be often.  I can see it now..."Lady, get this kid off of me, PLEASE!" 

There have been no birds at my bird feeders this winter.  The winter has been so mild, they apparently don't NEED me.  Sigh.  I still have the bag of bird food I bought 12 weeks ago!   Normally I go through a bag a week.  This is sad.  The moles have been active under the bird feeder up front, stealing bird food I shake out.  The ground is seldom frozen and is riddled with mole holes.  The moles should be good and HUGE come spring.  Moles the size of large barn cats.  (Watch for the story in the Enquirer.)  The tree out front was full of red winged black birds when I came home from work on Friday.  There have been sightings of Sandhill cranes around as well.   It just doesn't seem RIGHT.  (Insert the music from the Twilight Zone here...)

February 27, 2006 - I spent yesterday cleaning my children's bedrooms.   Holy Crap.  Apparently all those times I told them to go clean their rooms I was really saying, "See how many juice boxes/pop bottles you can shove under your bed until it raises another two inches" and "make sure the dust builds up so thick on your TVs and desks that you will be able to leave me a detailed message in the event you run out of sticky notes."  I went through a roll of paper towels and half a bottle of Windex up there!!  I also clogged the poor vacuum's filter system with all the debris.  It was not pleasant.  I was filthy from head to toe.   I made my youngest cart bag after bag of JUNK to the garbage.  Poor Herby Curby is not packed full and overflowing.  Sigh.  My daughter's room was not as bad as my sons, thank goodness.  All houses should come equipped with a high powered air hose at each level of the house to help put a dent into messes such as these.

My youngest son has his first detention to serve tomorrow.  He got caught in band kicking one of his female band mates.  When asked why he kicked his female band mate, he reply was, "She kicked me in the balls two days ago."  Either the pain took two days to reach his brain, or he was finally goaded into retaliation from other band mates.  We tried to explain to him that kicking anyone unless it was in self defense is NOT RIGHT.   "It was in self defense!" he said, as he covered his lower regions with his hands.  "Doing it two days later is NOT self defense!" I said.  We discussed this on and off over the weekend to make sure he understood about 'choices' - oh sure, some seem GOOD at the time, but he really needs to think these things through. 

March 6, 2006 - I have had these dreams since 1980 when I quit an almost fully paid with scholarships, etc. college career to come home and be with my husband.  (In retrospect, that was a stupid thing to do.)  The dreams involve me being lost on campus, or late constantly for class...or unable to go to class because I didn't have my homework done...or not having enough money to buy the stuff I need for the project that is due.

Some dreams I spend the entire dream trying to get to class but unable to find the correct building.  Some dreams I have so much homework/projects due that I don't dare go to class because I have no excuses for my piss poor performance.  Some dreams I just don't feel like going to class, then feel guilty after class starts and try to go, but the professor won't let me in.

Last night it was a dream riddled with all the above.  Lately the dreams come more often, and I know it's because my daughter is getting ready to launch her college career this fall.  I also know the dreams come from my intense feeling of failure over the whole college deal.   I failed miserably.  I didn't even try back then.  I gave up.  I was scared being so far from home so I didn't even try.  I was so shocked at being a little fish in a big pond as opposed to being a big fish in a little pond back home that I just threw my hands up and stopped.  I DIDN'T EVEN TRY.  This has always bothered me A LOT.  This has always been an issue in my head.  It comes out in dreams.  I think back now (hind sight is 20/20, aye?) that I had a whole support network at college, but I didn't use it.  I had a ton of local friends that went to the same college and I could have tapped into them for support, but I ran away instead.   I could have gone for some form of counseling, but I ran away instead. 

I don't know what to do to stop the dreams from coming.  I suppose I could go back to night school and get a degree now?  Maybe that would stop the dreams?  We all fail now and then.   I just have to buck up to the fact I was not ready for a big college campus back in 1979.  I should have tapped into my friends or I should have started out more local like at a city college and worked my way up. 

I know the last 27 years I've conquered other major issues without quitting.  I rock as a Mom.  I have learned many skills and stayed with the same company for years.  There are things I didn't give up on.  I can forgive myself for running like a scared little girl from college so many years ago, you think?  It's not like I can go back in time and fix things.  (Plus there is the whole 'Butterfly Effect' that would have to be dealt with if I could go back in time...)  I need to get over this.  The college dream has haunted me more than the dream about forgetting my underwear in kindergarten and finding this fact out while sliding down the big slide while wear a dress, or the dream about forgetting my locker combination after Christmas break.  (Wait, that wasn't a dream...)

I was also dreaming about my 'blub blub' last night.  It was my first material possession that I can remember.  A clear plastic hour glass shaped toy from my babyhood, I'm sure.  It was full of clear liquid and bright balls of plastic that would make a blub blub sound when you flipped it over.  I played with that thing for years.  I used it as a telephone as I got older.  It was used to time explosions for scenes from my whole Barbie saga.  I would stare into one end of it and pretend I was in space.  I loved that thing.  I wonder what happened to the blub blub?  It was made out of plastic that was PLASTIC TO THE MAX back then.  It was probably infused with lead and has a higher half life than plutonium.  I had always thought the memory of seeing my Mother cry when Kennedy was shot was my first intact memory from childhood, but now I am pretty sure it was of my blub blub. 

March 13, 2006 - I watched two specials on storm chasers last night before I went to bed.  They were interesting, and there were great shots of the cloud formations around tornadoes.  Around midnight, it started thundering and lightening.   I rolled over in bed to watch out the window and laughed.  "I should watch a show on how to win the lottery next..." I thought to myself.

My daughter is still packing in life to the max this last semester of High School.  She is Carpe Diem'ing like crazy.  Good for her as long as she can survive it.  I remind her to drink water because she forgets.  I remind her to take vitamins because she forgets.   I remind her to eat.  Actually, I don't see her much at all and the only thing a Mother can do to make herself feel better is to give little bits of lame advice in passing.  As mothers, we feel we have to give them something.  The beginning of the separation phase of the child/parent relationship is always hard.  They are about to fly the coop and you can only think to say random lame stuff like, "Take your vitamins!" when you really mean to say, "Don't get into a car with a stranger and don't believe everything everyone tells you and don't get in debt with credit cards and don't forget your friends and don't forget your family and remember to lock your doors and remember to keep your checkbook balanced and don't forget to floss everyday and write 'thank you' notes and call home from time to time and remember most of all above all else, I LOVE YOU!"  Sigh.  I lived through the separation of my oldest son, barely, back in 1999.  I will survive this, too. (My oldest son has moved back in, so they really never leave, do they?)

Speaking of losing things...our family veterinarian will be moving on come May 1st.  Dr. Robinson was a wonderful vet.  He has seen all of our pets over the last 19 years.  He has been a comfort when we lost a pet.  I will miss him a lot.  When we first got the letter yesterday explaining that he was moving on, I was mad.  Then I was mad at myself, because I thought, "I cannot handle change!"  A personal revelation I was not pleased with.  I don't roll with the changes well.  I am an old fart.   Facing reality sucks.  You kids, Get off my lawn!!

March 17, 2006 - My daughter found out today she's in the top ten of her class.  I cried.  I was so proud of her.  I called my best friend in Florida to tell her right away.  I called Vickie upstairs to tell her.  I ran down to tell Deb.  I ran up and down the hallways at work telling anyone who would listen, all while crying and hyperventilating. 

She didn't think it was a big deal.  It didn't register with her that it was something to be all geeked about.  She thought it was nice the principal called her to his office to tell her and all.  She said she had hoped she'd kept her rank this year, grade wise.  She was happy that they noticed her, but she still didn't think it was a big whoop. 

"It's a big deal!" I literally cried.  "I can't tell you how proud I am of you!..."  I told her (or tried to tell her...it came out more like, "I ... sob weep ... cannot begin... gasp drool ... to tell you ... sniff sniff ... how ... cough snot ... proud ... I ...huff huff huff...am....of you! ... hyperventilate and gasp for air..."  Wow.  My little girl done good!  All of my kids are just wonderful humans.  I can't believe these creatures fell out of ME.  They astound me everyday.  They make me laugh so hard I pee myself. (OK, everything nowadays makes me pee myself, but still...) They make me cry with joy.  They make me worry and fret.  They, well - they make me.   Thank you, children of mine, for helping me be a better person myself.  You guys rock, but you eat too much and never flush.  Smile.

I am crying now, just thinking how wonderful it is.  She should be proud of herself.  That took many years of hard work on her part to keep her grades up.  Not everything came easy to her.  Some did, but she did do her share of all nighters learning stuff.  I cry even harder when I think of her last 18 years on earth.  When she was born, she HATED me.  She was her Daddy's girl.  My husband worked second shift and I worked first shift.  She bonded with Daddy.  Daddy read her stories and gave her cookies and was there for her all morning.  He would drop her off at the sitters on the way to work, and I would pick her up on the way home.  She would begin crying so loud my ears would bleed from the time I picked her up until she went to bed.  People stopped calling me at home.  If they did call, they would scream loud enough over the phone so I could hear them, "How's the bitch?"  (That was my pet name for her.  I was beside myself trying to deal with her.  We were water and oil for the first several years of her life.)  Sigh.  My most vivid memory of those days was one night, after months of this screaming, I had collapsed onto the floor with her in my arms.  She was of course, screaming, and I was sobbing from frustration.   Daddy walked through the door at 11:30 p.m. and she instantly started goo'ing and gushing like a perfect baby (except for the swollen eyes and face from SCREAMING for eight hours) and she reached for her father and instantly fell asleep on his shoulder.   Daddy never could figure out why I was a nervous wreck from spending time with my young daughter.  "She's an angel for ME!" he would say. 

You know, I can't even remember when things started to turn around for us.  She just became who she is and I who I am and things just worked out.  She became this person who smiles a huge smile and lights up rooms.  She became this person with a marvelous sense of humor.   She became a peacemaker during problems here at home.  She became a cheerleader for the little things in life.  She was ALIVE and she was suddenly ... this wonderful human. 

You know, for years my Mother used to call me "Her Sunshine" when I was growing up.  I never understood what she felt for me or how intensely she must have loved me until now, for I feel the same way for my daughter.  She is the Sunshine of my Life. 

March 26, 2006 - We all have those moments in life where you think to yourself, "If I died now, I would die happy..."

I had one of those moments on Wednesday.  My youngest son and husband and I were coming home from the grocery store and we decided to pop in and surprise my daughter at work (and since we were going to be there anyway, get some chocolate shakes) so we took a different way than normal to get to her McDonalds.  We passed a local lake, but I wasn't paying much attention.  My son practically screamed, "Look!"  The lake was very still and a perfect mirror reflection of the trees on the shore plus the moon, clouds, and stars that were in the sky at the time.  "It's perfect!" he gushed.   "Just like a mirror, Mom!"  It was beautiful to behold.  It was a view that you see in photographs and sigh about.  I would have missed it completely had it not been for my son.  It was then that I thought to myself, "I could die now and I would die content.  My youngest son can 'see' and appreciate little things.   He doesn't have blinders on.  He sees those little things from time to time that make this whole journey through life worth travelling.  I have done my job well."

However, if I was going to die now or soon I would hope it would be at the wheel of my car and I hope as I lost control of my car that I would plow through one of those groups that protest at the funeral of fallen soldiers.  (You know, the group that takes freedom of speech to a whole new disgustingly disrespectful level.)  If I killed a few of those protesters in that crowd, I guess it was because they had impure thoughts or something, right?  They probably wanted to be homosexuals or something?  DUH.

God is NOT going to kill off soldiers of any race or color or belief just because there is homosexuality in the country they are from.  God is not a stupid human.  I am sure there are times He regrets making us stupid humans, however, especially when they do stupid stuff like protest at a funerals in "His" name.  I wonder how one of those people would feel if half the city of New York turned out to protest at the funeral of one of their loved ones.  The protestors would have signs and sing.  The protestors would accuse, "Your (loved one) died because God struck your (loved one) down because of His hate for people who do not put the toilet seat down!"  That would make as much sense as what they are doing, that's for sure.  Sigh.  God can just stand back and watch us eliminate ourselves or destroy ourselves;  He has no need to pick off innocent people to prove a point.  Those poor protestors need to direct their energy to make the world a better place, like pick up garbage alongside the highway or help old people instead of travelling the country making asses of themselves. 

April 3, 2006 - And now, I will sing to you all!  Prepared to be amazed at my vocal talents! 

Though April showers may come your way, They bring the flowers that bloom in May. So if it's raining, have no regrets, Because it isn't raining rain, you know, (It's raining violets,) And where you see clouds upon the hills, You soon will see crowds of daffodils, So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song, Whenever April showers come along. And where you see clouds upon the hills, You soon will see crowds of daffodils, So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song, Whenever April showers come along.

I love that old song.  Sometimes, the old songs are the best songs to express how one is feeling.   I am feeling so much better now, stress wise, now that my husband has found a job.   Finally.  Did you all hear that noise last Thursday?  It was the sighing of relief from my couch!  "Thank Goodness!" my couch said.  Smile.   The end of the couch where my husband has been strategically placed  the last few months has sunken at least two inches below the rest of the couch so the joy the couch expressed when the job offer phone call came in was a thing of beauty to behold. 

The kids are on Spring Break this week.  My youngest has a huge project (that was due last week) for school to do this week.  His spring break will be spent researching Sri Lanka.   My daughter is working almost everyday.  Her spring break will be spent slinging french fries.  I begged them not to do such exciting things on their spring break, as they will no doubt get addicted to thrill seeking if they continue at this pace, but there is only so much a mother can do.

April 4, 2006 - My son had a month to do this Sri Lanka report at school, you know.  I state this to make myself feel justified in feeling so frustrated with him.  He's a very smart kid and has potential the size of Texas on steroids, but HE DOESN'T TRY.  "He's just 13" I must remind myself.   He's just a kid who likes video games and procrastinating.  No big whoop.   I should let him fail this project to teach him a lesson when I explode upon contact with a future report card, but I can't this time as he is a partner with someone else.  So, I press forward.  At least this time he's not flailing on the floor like frying bacon in a tizzy fit because I'm making him research things.  He is actually working and trying.  "Why fight it?" he said tonight.   "I need your help, so I will just do it!"  I believe I fainted for a few minutes and possibly even had a stroke from hearing those words come out of his mouth.  

I spent several hours last night surfing the net reading about Sri Lanka.  (One perk about having a procrastinating wee teenage male with homework issues is I tend to have to read about many current events and foreign countries to keep ahead of him so I know when he's lying or skewing the truth too much.)  When he graduates, I'll never know who is President or I'll never hear of any current events and I'll end up embarrassing myself at a party by saying, "What do you mean there were riots in France in 2006?"   After reading about Sri Lanka and all of it's issues, I thought, "As mad as I get over stupid people in this country at times, it's still THIS COUNTRY and not Sri Lanka.  We are luckier than we could ever imagine."  Sigh. 

Speaking of learning, at work today I learned about 'BSE free' product certification.  (The BSE I am talking about stands for Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy, but after an hour of on line research I found it can also stand for the Bombay or Boston or Barbados Stock Exchange, Bachelor of Science in Engineering, Breast Self Examination, British Society of Echocardiography, Breeding Soundness Evaluation, Bachelor of Software Engineering, Belvedere String Ensemble, Bilateral Symmetrical Encephalomalacia..the list goes on and on.)   Did you know some companies what you to send certification that you are not sending them Mad Cow Disease in a box?  They want you to PROMISE on paper!  So I am thinking that we should come up with a cert that states at the bottom in small letters that "the the paper you are now holding in your hands barely even touched the ooze from the brain of Bailey, our kooky cow;  Oh, the hours we laughed at his antics, but we digress - as it turns out Bailey wasn't so kooky, more sickly really...but honestly, we didn't know..."

April 11, 2006 - This weekend the whole family went grocery shopping with me.  Well, that was the intent, to go grocery shopping.  Instead my husband took us to Olive Garden for an 'end of spring break' dinner for the kids.  We had fun there, but ate way too much so as the car sparked it's way down the road from the excess weight, we decided waddling around the grocery store, although probably the best thing for us right about then, was not what any of us wanted to do.  We just pulled into a gas station and I forced my oldest son to go in and get two gallons of milk for us as that was the only absolute necessity we needed to survive for another day at home.  When he came out, he flung the two gallons on my youngest son's lap to hold.  As we were pulling out, my youngest son said, "Murphmelph gugsh bungsabut yawtub yad..." in his drawling deep manly voice.  We all burst out laughing, as none of us could understand one word he had said.  "Quiet!! Quiet!!  I think he's trying to communicate with us!" I sputtered as I laughed.  We laughed for quite a ways down the road at the poor boy.  He at times speaks so deep and drawn out it sounds as if someone is sawing down a tree underwater.  Once I was able to breath again, I asked him what in fact he was trying to say.  "I was trying to joke and sing 'my milk jugs bring all the boys to the yard' but it didn't come out right!" We all burst out laughing again as that in itself was funny with the two gallons of milk and all...Sigh.  I love my kids. They are a riot. 

Spring has finally sprung, me thinks.  It smells like SPRING outside.  It was nearly 71 degrees today!!  The grass is green (at least the parts of the lawn where the moles have not constructed super mole highways) and there are violets and daffodils and the trees are budding and the peepers are peeping and, oh my stars, it's grand.  Sigh.  I even saw a moth of sorts, although it looked like it had gone through a paper shredder, it was still airborne.  There are flies everywhere and the stupid mosquitoes are already out in droves.  I am ready for spring.  There is a herd of turkeys across the road in the corn field that are apparently in mating mode, as the males spend all their time puffed up intimidating each other while the females just lie around eating bon bons and doing their nails.  I love to watch wild turkeys.  The humor me.  They move like a school of fish;  If one moves, they all move.  They run like Groucho Marx all bent over.  Cable should have an 'all turkey' channel just to amuse me. (I'm a cheap date. You could give me a cardboard box and I'd be happy for hours on end.)

For those of you sitting on the edge of your seats wondering if Garble Boy got his Sri Lanka project done, the answer is yes.  Barely.  It was like giving birth all over again, in my opinion.  Cripes.  His project buddy came over on Saturday to work on it with him.  I left that at the computer and went to take a nap.  I had a wonderful dream that they had finished it all and and had it printed out and had typed up the bibliography and everything.  (Key words in last sentence  - HAD A DREAM.)  When I got up they had approximately three paragraphs done on the main article after a whole hour or so.  Deep slow loud sigh.  Needless to say how Saturday was spent at my house.   There is also no need to mention that two 13 year old boys got several lectures on responsibility and school work and life in general. "Oh, man...there she goes again!" my son would mutter when I would launch into one of my speeches.  "Do your school work on time, and you won't get lectures!" I said in that cocky way mother's say things.  "Yeah, that's right!  I'm the MOM - and I know ALL!  Don't pay any attention to that lady behind the bathroom door sobbing because it took you three hours to write six paragraphs when you had 80 pages of vital data sitting in front of you just bursting with information!  What ever you do, DON'T READ anything that might aid you in the effort to complete your homework!  Now bring me the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West!   I command it, I'm the Great and Powerful MOM!"

I have been pondering what things I would take to a deserted island.  Not that one has much choice on what items they can take along to a deserted island since being on a deserted island in normally forced on one as opposed to being a scheduled event, but it never hurts to ponder.  I would take the Bible, a note pad and a pen, Vics Vapor Rub, and a case of salsa for starters.   Oh, and an ax to whack coconuts with...a must!  (Fresh water probably wouldn't hurt either, but we'll assume there is a magical fresh water spring running down from the mountains on the island.)  I would take a drum set and teach myself to play drums.   It would be nice to have a telescope too, so I could view stars when the urge hit me.  That's about all I would take, now that I've pondered it.  (OK, maybe a dictionary too, because to be honest, I had to look up how to spell 'deserted' because I'm never sure is it's 'desserted' or 'deserted', and it turns out 'desserted' would mean someone dumped ice cream on your head if in fact there was such a word as 'desserted' which there isn't...)

April 12, 2006 - There have been phrases I've heard over the past 45 years that just humor me to no end.  I may forget where I parked today, but I will never forget these little blurbs. "Never count your chickens before they rip your lips off..."  That gem came from my friend Grace in High School as she was reading to us from a book about third graders and what they had written in response to having the task to finish classic sayings. "Sometimes I guess there just aren't enough rocks" from the Forest Gump movie.  Today, my friend Doug was telling me a story from the days when he and his wife raised/bred Siberian Huskies.  The phrase "...if she was a lazy whelper" came up.  I never heard the rest of Doug's story, for that little blurb stuck in my mind and over took it.  "Lazy Whelper?"  Man, that works on so many levels!!  It's my new favorite.   It almost sounds like Irish slang, doesn't it!?  "You Lazy Whelper!"   Ah, sometimes language, misused, is a marvelous thing. 

On the way to work today, I was watching some lady swerve around the road as she attempted to navigate her car whilst talking on a cell phone.  I, being perfect and all, felt the need to chastise her in my mind.  "Stupid woman drivin like and idiot talkin on her cell phone gonna kill someone damned kids anyway..."  A few minutes later, there is a sharp pinch on the inside of my upper thigh (or in other words, near my crotch) then the unmistakable feel of a live bug moving around up under my skirt.  Now who is swerving around the road like an idiot with one hand up her skirt?  (Which brings me to another one of my favorite phrases, this one from "A Wish for Wings That Worked" by Berkley Breathed, "Don't Get Cocky!"  The bug was a gentle reminder that I shouldn't be so judgmental, even if it's only mentally to myself, and even if the other person is a lazy whelper...) 

April 25, 2005 - Today is the second official day of my two week vacation, and what a vacation it's been!

I had over two weeks left of vacation time to 'use it or lose it' before May 11th.  I chose to use it.  Since the kids were in school and all and the husband on third shift and sleeping all day, I figured I was in for two weeks of quiet "Sandy" time during the day in which to do whatever my heart desired!  (You know, go nuts!  Clean, do lawn work, clean more, do laundry, more lawn work, see how many times a day the guys over shoot and pee all over the toilet - just plain old vacation madness to the extreme!)

I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for yesterday morning to start my vacation off right.  I know I have a sinus infection and have had one for two weeks or so but have put off going to the doctors until VACATION.  My main reason for going to docs, however, was to see what was up with my eyes again, or still, since they puff up and drip water constantly and scratch and itch like a *$(%^!!.  The eyes being that way only add to my already troll like appearance, and frankly Scarlet, I don't like it.  (Turns out it's allergies.  I asked, "Why at 45 do I get allergies?"  The doc said, "You live in Michigan, it's an acquired allergy.  The pollen is going nuts early this year."   Man, for all of you who have suffered a life time of allergies, I have to give you a round of applause.  You have to deal with them and continue on in a normal fashion and I don't see how you do it!  IT SUCKS.  There is a good article about allergies in this month's National Geographic, by the way...)

So, yesterday I wake up at four a.m. and cannot sleep any longer.  I return emails and catch up on local news and read the obituaries.  I'm thinking to myself the whole while, "This will be a good day!   I can fart around 'til the doctors appointment, and then come home and nap."   At 6 a.m. my youngest son comes down the stairs as if drunk and reports, "I am lightheaded..." as he falls into one of the chairs.  I feel his forehead.   He's got a fever!!  I call the doctors at 8 a.m., and ask if they can piggy back my son in with my appointment.  They said they would work him in.   ("Work him in" is a medically coded term that means you will wait for over an hour to see the doctor.)  We both get prescriptions.  His throat is bad and he's got the start of bronchitis.  We get the prescriptions filled and come home and we both take a long nap.  I get up, make chicken and rice for dinner and do some laundry.  My son doesn't want a real dinner, he wants soup, and of course I have no canned soup in stock that he likes.  A trip to the grocery store solves that issue, plus gives me a chance to get stocked up on Lysol spray to begin the decontamination process.  While my son ate his soup, I changed his bedding and cleaned his room and hosed it down with Lysol and brought in a priest to exorcise any demons left after the spraying.  I sighed and hoped for the best.

The decontamination process was obviously started too late in the game as this morning my son comes down stairs, falls into the nearest chair and still has a fever.  My daughter was M.I.A. and finally at six thirty I hollered up at her to come down.  She came down and fell onto the couch.   SHE had a fever!  (She had been up in the night to vomit, she informed me.   It was kind of her to let me sleep through it.)  So, I called the doctors at 8 a.m. and asked them to squeeze my daughter in with me (as I had a second appointment scheduled for today to get refills on some maintenance medicine.  My doctor won't refill any prescriptions during a normal visit UNLESS it's related to the condition you are being seen for.  She claims it has something to do with insurance...)  I will wake her out of her fevered sleep to haul her in to the doctors in about a half an hour and take a bag in case she pukes, as we will be waiting for over an hour I'm sure...

So, that is my vacation so far.  I am sure the extreme excitement will only get better as the week goes on so stay tuned and buckle up!

LATER IN THE EVENING...

My son's fever has not broken, and is now up to 102 degrees.  My daughter's fever is steady at 101.  They are both camped out in the living room.  Sandy's Infirmary.  My daughter is working on a bowl of soup, slowly.  Not much has stayed down today for her.  I force my son to drink water or 7-UP every five minutes.  "I think I'm losing the battle, Mom..." he muttered.  He has not left the couch all day.  I wish the antibiotics would kick in soon.  I hope his fever breaks tonight.  I hope my daughter's fever breaks tonight.  I hope I don't get their fever, because who would take care of me?  (My husband works third shift now and I am grateful he is working but he doesn't do much else but work and sleep.  He'd be a lousy nurse, although he is fun to poke with a stick while he's sleeping.)  I have gotten over my pity party for having to be nurse while on vacation...now I just want the kids to get better, screw the vacation mode.  I don't need no stinking vacation!  I need healthy kids.   Sigh. 

April 26, 2005 - I woke up at 6:58 a.m.  I slept in!!  I slept in!!  It is a vacation!!  Smile.  As I stumbled out of bed all disorientated and the like I was stepping on little landmines of cold wetness on the floor.  After turning on a light and waking up, I see that they are just bags of catnip I got for the kitties that were sniffed out by the puppies over night and chewed beyond recognition then left in strategically placed wet piles all over the living room.   (Humane Shelter volunteers make these bags of premo catnip - home grown catnip - and sell them at local veterinarian offices to help support the Humane Society.  They are the best at getting your kitty cats nuts.  Can't beat home grown catnip when you have an urge to get your cat all hopped up on goof weed and laugh at them mercilessly.)   As I was picking the slimy things up I was singing "St. James Infirmary" to myself and remembering the one Saturday Night Live show years and years ago where Lily Tomlin sang that song with the Howard Shore band and the band members wore nurses hats and ... but, I digress.

The kids are still feverish and very sick.  I called into school for both of them.  My daughter is sad because she will miss the Rotary Breakfast that honors the top 10 percent of kids in the graduating class.  She can't go and puke all over everything, now can she?.  It wouldn't be right.  Still, I feel bad for her.  Nothing like being felled like a tree the last few weeks of your High School career.  She did, however, NOT get sick until after prom on Saturday and she looked adorable.  (I'm the Mom, so of course I think she's adorable - but really, she was adorable.)  I sent a message to her prom date last night as I was worried he'd be sick by now too, but he seems to be OK. 

April 27, 2005 - My daughter went to school this a.m.  "I only have four weeks left of High School - I'm going!" she stated.  Youngest son is a bit perkier today and his snot is on the move.  His temp is hanging on around 100.  It's good when snot is on the move.  He must have had one heck of a head and chest full.  He goes through cloth hankies like they were Kleenex.  He did eat this a.m. (but he couldn't taste it, and mentioned this fact every other bite) and so far his meds have stayed down.  When he was hurling up yesterday morning, I told him the story about how people used to make the person (with pneumonia or the like) vomit, so it would help expel the phlegm from the lungs.  He didn't seem to appreciate this fact as I was telling him all of this vital history while holding his head for him above the waste basket he was puking in to.  I also reminded him to visualize his white blood cells battling the evil bacteria in his body.  "You might have lost a battle or two, but the war isn't over!" I said with gusto.  "I already am doing that, you don't have to tell me to visualize, duh!" he snotted back at me.   When I called him in sick to school, I requested that his sister bring home any homework they could gather for him as it looks as if he's going to be couch bound a few more days. 

I went and got my hair done this afternoon, a trim and a color and a nice long long session of Terri my hair person playing with it.  Sigh.  I love having my hair played with.  It's so relaxing.   It took forever, however, to finally relax.  I was stressed a bit, I think.   I was in a blobby melted heap of contentment by the time she was done, though!  

I believe my son had a severe relapse after seeing the homework package his sister brought home.  "My head hurts MORE!" he lamented.  "Yeah, honey - real life sucks sometimes!" I said, in a supportive motherly type way.  "We can't say 'suck' in school, you know..." he said and drifted off to sleep.

I have wanted to mow all week.   The grass is growing at an alarming rate.  My husband said, "Don't use the riding lawn mower yet, I have to lube it."  OK, I said to myself, I will use the push mower on the spots where the neighbor's cats and dogs were last seen..."   You know, when you work third shift as my husband does (and mind you I'm very thankful he's working) you have to sleep when you are not working or eating.  I figured the riding mower won't get lubed unless I find the manual and figure out how to lube it myself.  I pushed mowed slowly as the height of the grass in spots, especially over the septic tank area, was lush and rain forest like.  As I fought the grass, the push mower's handle came off in my hands.  Let me tell you, that defeats the whole purpose of push mowing when there is no longer a method available to push!   I dragged the beast back and did my best to shove it up to the shed in disgust, as if it would know I personally blamed IT for all of my troubles in life.  I came in the house and started taking stuff out of the freezer in the bedroom.  "What you doin?  Grunt Mumble..." my semi sleeping husband said.  "I'm defrosting this freezer as the handle broke on the push mower, so I thought I would do this instead.  I am gonna have fun on my vacation if it kills me!"  I was hoping he'd get the gist of the sarcasm, but he woke up just long enough to belt out, "GREAT!  I will have to buy a new push mower this weekend..."  GOD FORBID!!  Smile.

April 30, 2006 - My kids are finally feeling better.  Young son still is coughing up huge amounts of unwanted goo, but he feels better - you can tell as he's acting like a teen again.  I forced him to work on homework on Saturday.   (I knew he felt better due to the way he opposed me at every turn.)  In a way, I think I kind of like badgering kids to do homework even though I complain about it to no end.  I learn so much in the process.  This weekend I learned about ancient China.  I honestly don't remember learning about ancient China in school.  It is very possible I did - but the retention is not there.  Some of the stuff sounded familiar, once I read it.  If I had been held at gunpoint prior to this weekend with the ultimatum of "Give me ancient China history or die..." I would have been dead.  At least now I would have a fighting chance.

Husband got me a new push mower on Friday.  (I will consider this a Mother's Day Present.)  I was able to finish the push mowing as husband lubed and tuned up the riding lawn mower.   I got to do the major mowing, as well.  I felt happy.  That was on my list of "fun things I wanna do on vacation."  He announced he was getting new blades for the riding lawn mover that day (which he ended up not doing) so I took it upon myself to use the mower as my own personal death machine to battle large branches and above ground areas of large mole holes.  It was extremely dry and with me sitting on top of huge mole piles for several minutes to level them would only spew dust throughout the neighborhood (and all over cars and houses, as well.)  I was covered with so much dirt when I was done it made mud puddles in my shower.  I also mulched many large branches that had the audacity to lay in my mowing path.  I had a riot to be honest.   I am normally opposed to death and destruction, but somehow on a John Deere, it's OK.

I learned how to use the new tread mill we got.  I love it.  It has a T.V. on it and a fan!   Woot.  I don't have to worry about turning my weak girly ankles in mole holes or pot holes!!  The puppies are not so sure about the tread mill.  To them it is an intruder in THEIR house and they have made it their personal mission to "save" me from the thing.  They attempted several times to try to bite the belt while it was in motion.  They both have very sore noses today.  I believe the puppies will just stick to saving me from the vacuum instead.

May 1, 2006 - It has been raining since yesterday and we needed it so much!  I am glad I got the mowing done.  With the rain, I will most likely have to mow again by Wednesday or so, but that gives me an excuse to run over large objects again, so hey - it's all good. 

Both of the younger kidlettes are going to school today.  I will have the day to myself!  HURRAY.   I plan on going nuts and go to the pet store and getting little suction cup thingys to use on the tubing in Wadsworth's fish tank when I replace the bubbling stone and also look for one of the 'mitts' that you put on and pet your animals with and the hair magically comes off onto the magical mitt and you are free from flying hair for ever.   (The only way to be free from flying hair forever, as we all know, it to have no pets and for the whole family to go spontaneously bald.) 

Yesterday I purchased plates, napkins, plastic cutlery, and plastic table cloth stuff for my daughters graduation party.  I also bought red and white little bowls to place on the picnic tables with the intention to put nuts and butter mints in them as is tradition as we old folks all know.  When my daughter saw the little bowls, she said, "Can we please just have M&Ms in those things - and not those terrible blobs of pastel mints mixed with peanuts?"  I smiled.  I will have M&Ms in half and icky mints/peanut combos in the other half.  It's all about compromise.  I bought streamers to use for decoration as well, and will want to start putting together her life story to display.  I will design her graduation party invitations this week.  I need to go to the park pavilion I rented, too!  I don't even know the set up there, and that would be a good thing to know.  There is a plethora of things I can do to entertain myself with on this, my second week of vacation. 

For now, I am off to order red and white M&Ms from their website that contain no gross mints nor peanuts.   May the force be with us all.

May 2, 2006 - I ordered the M&Ms with my daughter's name on them!  I love it!  How cool is that?  I wish they had been around to do that when my oldest son graduated.  My youngest son was quite geeked by the fact you can have personalized M&Ms and was already planning what his M&Ms would say for his graduation.  (You are very limited in lettering - so he had better come up with something compact!)

Yesterday was a marvelous vacation day!  I put my 'Essential Manilow' CDs in the car, and drove around doing errands with "American Bandstand" and "Jump Shout Boogie" cranked up loudly.  (Did you know you can still go deaf listening to Barry Manilow at decibel levels so high your ears bleed?  You can!  What?)  I would sing to the cars next to me at stop lights.  When the whomp whomp of a rap song rang loudly next to me, I would 'Barry Blast' them back.  It was so fun. 

I went over and cleaned for my Aunt Jean yesterday, too.  That was fun in itself.  I love to be with my Uncle and Aunt and hear stories.  I miss having my own Mom and Dad to talk to - so my Aunt Jean and Uncle Lorin are my 'adoptive' parents.  I didn't' clean that much, but it seemed to make Aunt Jean happy, and that was cool.  I did their living room and bathroom.  It's amazing what one little thing you do can make someone so happy.   We should all do more little acts of random kindness.  (I get that bumper sticker now!) 

On the way home from AJs, I went to Pets Plus.  I got the puppies a new giant sized rope toy and got stuff for Wadsworth the fish.  I also bought two of those pet mitts that you use to remove hair.  If you watch the T.V. commercials, you would think using one of these fur removal mitts would pull the hair off your pet in one fell swoop, creating a mitt shaped compact woven bundle of hair that you can peel off and toss into the garbage.  NOT TRUE!!  It gets the hair off, mind you, but not in one lump that is easy to pull off the mitt compactly.  Nonetheless, the dogs loved it.  Jake kept pushing Kia out of the way to get more brushing.  A little advice...don't use these things inside the house, and if you do, make sure the ceiling fan is OFF first.  (Of course, I used mine inside the house with the ceiling fan on so I know what I'm talking about here.)  The dogs are short hairs but the amount of hair that became airborne was phenomenal!  The cats lined up for brushings since they love to be brushed, but Jake made it clear by laying on top of Muffy and forcefully holding down Taffy that it was ALL HIM this time around.  It took me an hour to suck up all the hair with the vacuum afterwards.  Duh.

All in all, it was a good good day.  Today I will take a vacation nap, then go to the post office, and when the kids get home from school, we're off to buy socks.  HOLD ME BACK! :)

(Flashback memory - It just dawned on my that my Dad would call my 'rock' music "whomp whomp" music back in the '70s!  Hahaha.  I remember many times he would yell at me to "TURN DOWN THE G*$ DA%&#! WHOMP WHOMP MUSIC!!"  The music he yelled at me for was England Dan and John Ford Coley, Seals and Croft, Kenny Loggins, and Barry Manilow!!  Hahaha.  It makes me laugh.  I am glad I had my handy eight track tape player in the car when I got into my Led Zeppelin phase...that would have really freaked him out!)   

LATER THAT EVENING...

Socks have been procured.  My daughter even got two more bras and two handbags.  (She is like me, we don't like to 'shop' and do girl things and we wait until the last possible moment to buy something we needed a year ago.)  It was a successful trip to the store.   I have been waiting for my daughter to tell me it was time for her to get socks.   She was down to wearing two pairs of black 'band' socks for a while now.  Her supply of socks was in critical mode, but I swore to myself I would say anything to her.   "She's 18 - she has to learn when it's time to get new socks!" I kept telling myself every time I did laundry or saw the puppies eat another pair she had left under her bed for six weeks. Finally, this morning was the morning she announced she needed socks.  "Oh, and I need a purse - my purse is shot, too..."   There is hope after all!!

I also got the stuff to make homemade salsa, and while the kids were doing their homework I happily chopped up all that stuff.  My eyelids are still burning from the jalapeño peppers.  I wore rubber gloves when I cut the stuff up to avoid just this issue, but I took them off before doing dishes and forgot that the juice on the cutting board when I washed it that got into my skin was enough to burn me hours later while I was rubbing my eyes.  Now I'm worried, because when I got done with the dishes I changed Wadsworth's bubble stone and filter in his tank!  If he's dead tomorrow, it will be due directly to too much jalapeño juice in his personal space.  Sigh.

May 7, 2006 - 'Tis the end of my whirlwind vacation.  The vacation started off with sick kids.  The vacation ends with Mother Nature blessing me with the PMS.  (Pathetically Morbid Sandy.) (Pitiful Martyred Sandy.)  I was hit with a huge bout of it on Friday and Saturday.

*Author's note - the following will be PMS inspired complaining.  It is just that - a temporary sinking into depression that all females suffer from at times but I am just putting in print.   By no means does this mean that I no longer feel I'm a lucky woman or blessed in my life!  By no means does it mean I plan on going out and committing a murder or felony of any kind that you could prove in a court of law.  This will just be me being bitchy and spewing forth babble and should be taken as such.*

So Friday, I slept in and the kids got themselves off to school.  That was nice.  My husband came home from work and volunteered to start the riding lawn mower part of the lawn mowing while I did the push mowing part.  I had planned on mowing Friday, but not so soon.  I was in the middle of writing out a list of stuff I needed from the store.  First on the list was industrial strength Pamprin.  After I finished the list, I left it on my desk and started the push mowing.  My husband has feet issues and ass issues so he can't ride the lawn mower for long without his butt exploding nor push the push mower for long without his feet falling off.  Actually, I don't mind doing the lawn as it gets me away from the house and out in the sun and I can pretend all I want while I'm on the lawn mower, so no big deal.  When I got done with the push mowing and took over the riding lawn mowing, my husband announced he was going into town for something.   "Good!"  I said, "Get me the stuff on the list on my desk while you are in town!"  "What's on the list?" he whined like a baby boy.   "Well, for one thing, PAMPRIN..." I emphasized loudly.  He continued to stutter like a comet just hit him square upside the head so I threw the lawn mower in gear barely missing his feet and said, "Oh, never mind DEAR, I will get that stuff by making a special trip into town just to get that stuff that you could get when you went in to town but you won't..." 

I thought to myself that if I were a man and my wife asked me to get Pamprin, I would probably come home with a 55 gallon drum of the stuff.  But that's me...

I drove off as fast as you can on an old John Deere mower and mowed.  I pondered his behavior in a 'Fried Green Tomatoes" kind of way and then I pondered all the years I had done special stuff for the family in general and been a happy outgoing 'Mom' and always made sure the family had stuff on holidays and Christmas and Birthdays and you name it...every day special treats, thoughtful things, notes in backpacks, little things to say 'I love you' sort of things - I do this stuff!   I bring JOY and HAPPINESS into their lives as much as I can!  I try.  I make efforts.  I am a good person.  They should bow to me in honor!  "Cripes, they treat me like SHIT!" I screamed out loud.  If something gets left on the floor, it stays on the floor for ever unless I pick it up.  If people over shoot whilst peeing, the pee stays there until Mom does her daily toilet cleaning.  No one in this family plans dinner besides me and if it's given to my husband to do, he cops out and buys fast good on 'his night' to cook.   "The dogs get more attention and respect than I do!" I proclaimed.   I felt very misused and taken for granted.  I listed all the specific times I felt taken for granted in the last 26 years.  I lost count eventually as I took out my anger on the mole holes again.  Luckily no live animals crossed my path or they would have been shredded.  To stay out of the house longer I even mowed the back half of my neighbor's lawn.  After mowing like a mad woman, I did feel better.   However, when I did come into a house that should have been picked up by the kids by then (they were home from school) and stuff was not as I thought they should be, I stiffened and went nuts.  They had done some chores but no one dusted and my son had done a piss poor job at sweeping the living room and the stuff that had been on the floor for a week was still there. 

I threw all that stuff away.  I swept the living room again and dusted.  I was quiet and brooding.   I don't believe in 'giving people guilt trips' or playing mind games with people but had I spoken I would have regretted the words that came out so it was best if I was just quiet.  "I think your Mom is upset with you kids..." my husband said to my daughter and son as he plopped on the couch like Jabba the Hut.  I looked at him and shook my head.  He just doesn't get it.  He just doesn't get it...

I am much better today.   There were no untimely deaths in the family due to my condition, and I planted some flowers and washed some windows.  It may be all in my head this PMS stuff, but it's THERE nonetheless and sometimes the dark side of the force gets to me.  My head spins completely around and pea soup shoots out of my mouth.  I feel possessed by forces other than my own brain.  It's not always like this, the anger and irritation, but when it does happen, it HAPPENS.  Sigh.  I love being a girl.  I pity the women who are possessed like this every month and taken over by aliens as I was Friday and Saturday. 

Now, I am off to clean some more but today it's because I want to clean, not because I feel like "everyone is stupid except me" so I have to clean.  (That is a good feeling.)

Evening Hours...

I just lost one of my larger fillings while eating fat free potato chips.  (It is a filling that the dentist said he wouldn't attempt to fill again - and next time it fell out I had to have a root canal and cap.)  Sigh.  It was the best ending to my vacation that I could have hoped for.  I couldn't find the filling...I expect that will come out in a day or so...

May 8, 2006 - Not that it matters, but the filling that came out last night WAS NOT the evil one that the dentist threatened a root canal for!  I was happy last night as my tongue probed the space up there.  It's the last molar in line, a totally different tooth that is mostly filling with a tiny bit of enamel!    Odd as it may seem, this pleased me to no end and I went to sleep like a baby!  Smile.  Oh sure, I'll have to either have it filled and have a panic attack or have a root canal and have a panic attack, but it's not THE tooth I thought.  One must Carpe Diem as much as one can, fillings included. 

I had a small filling done last week while on vacation.  I survived it, only because they didn't have to use one of the sleeves they use to pack and set up the filling.  They used stuff that is cured by heat.  I barely made it through that small filling.  The dentist and assistant are angels, knowing my issue with dental work.  I do fine until the novocaine takes effect and I feel like I can't swallow anymore or lose control over when I can shut my mouth and flex my jaw.  My daughter made a big fuss when I came home from the dentist and they got home from school.  (I have backed out of fillings before and cancelled the appointments, so the kids know I'm a chicken.)  "Did you do it?" she asked, with her head cocked to one side in a motherly fashion.  "I did it, and no one lost a finger!" I proclaimed with pride.  "Good Mommy!   Good Mommy!" she praised me over and over.  I will have to go in to the dentist this week to find out what he will do or not do concerning this latest gaping hole.  I will have to be heavily sedated no matter who does what to it, this is a now known fact.  Sigh. 

May 11, 2006 - Yesterday I had to go up to Grand Rapids for a meeting, and on the way back I stopped at a McDonalds for lunch.  There were beautiful spring flowers and pine trees lining the way to the ordering area at the drive through.  I was admiring an odd looking pine tree while the truck in front of me ordered.  I noticed a puff of smoke from one of the branches and thought, "Huh?"  Then it happened again.  I was cursing the truck in front of me for tossing a cigarette butt in a poor innocent tree when I saw another puff of smoke from higher up...then another puff from over there then another puff from down there...The trees was smoking all over!!  I expected at any moment it would be engulfed in flames and a deep rumbling voice would be asking if I had "seen Moses" because He "had a message for him..." 

Then it dawned on me - a flash of acquired knowledge from some long ignored brain cell finally reached daylight - the tree was puffing some sort of spore or pollen!!  I laughed out loud.  In the span of a few seconds I had cursed out an innocent victim in my head, expected to see God at any moment, laughed at myself after my epiphany, then apologized profusely in my head to the innocent victim.  That is what makes life so cool - the times your brain scoots around a whole spectrum of thoughts and knowledge in a matter of moments and you end up laughing and learning, plus no one gets hurt. 

I was up until midnight last night printing off invitations to my daughter's graduation party, folding them, and stamping the envelopes.  There was that hour break to watch the season finale of 'Criminal Minds' on CBS because I love that show but I detest cliff hangers and I knew it was going to be 'continued' of course but I watched it nonetheless.  But I digress... The only thing left to do now for her graduation party is order food products and then survive the day.  Anytime one of your 'babies' is reaching a milestone like this it sucks the life out of you as a Mom.  (But then I think to myself, "Only one more to go and I'm free and clear!!") ((Then I think again that a parent is never 'free and clear' so why am I feeling like this because eventually they come back and stuff.))   At my son's graduation party in 1999, my first child to graduate, I was in a coma!   I didn't come out of the coma until Grace showed up.  My friend Grace gave me my baby shower for my oldest in 1980.  Once I saw Grace, I was able to come back to reality and go on again for some reason.  I guess I had a link - a 'full circle' link from birth to graduation that helped clear my head. 

Now, I am off to conquer the world and enjoy the tree puffing moments as they come...one puff at a time.

May 13, 2006 - Happy Mother's Day to all you Mothers out there, bearers of the futures keepers of this planet.  So far this Mother's Day weekend I've done nothing but sleep in and eat strawberry jam toast as I sip my coffee.  I don't plan on doing much more than that this weekend, to be honest.  My daughter is at work and my sons are still sleeping as is my husband.  It's my weekend, as it were.   Someone should be catering to my every whim, but since we all know that won't happen I will just bask in the quiet of the house now while I can. 

-----------------------------

In bed last night I was trying to remember all I could about my own Mom.  Normally I have bad dreams about her, as she had dementia and wasn't "my Mom" before she died.  She passed away in September 9, 1998 at a nursing home where she was recovering from a broken hip, apparently from a blood clot that dislodged.  She got the broken hip while at the nursing home, falling between two beds.  She was living in the nursing home because of her dementia or mental state.  I started this diary a few months after her death as a way to cope and write and vent and record things.  My Mom held things in and was a first class martyr.   I vowed I would not be like that.  I personally think that much of her mental state came from holding things in for decades.  Even if what she had was Alzheimer's disease and if it was Alzheimer's her father had and it will be Alzheimer's I may get someday, I don't want to go over the edge with everything bottled up inside, for it would be my luck that the one brain cell that held all the pent up anger and resentment would be the one my brain locks on to in my declining years. 

My mother was raised during the depression.  She saw hard times.  She lost her real mother to strep throat or the like when she was very young.  Grandpa remarried.  She was the oldest kid in the herd at home when she was young, so I imagine she had her hands full.   My Mom had a hard row to hoe.  She met my Dad while working for him as a housekeeper in the early forties because his first wife had died and he had three kids that needed taken care of.  They got married in 1942.  In a story that's too long and complicated for this page, my Dad gave up his kids for adoption.  That haunted my Mom for years and years.  I think she really loved those kids... 

My sister was born in 1952, my brother was born in 1958, and I came along in 1960.  Right after I popped out, my Mom started menopause.  The main memories I have of my Mom in the first five years of my life was of her sobbing.  She most likely could have benefited from some estrogen treatment, but did they do that in the early sixties?  Sigh.  I remember one time when I spilled my milk at the table, she fell to floor crying.   Then there was the one time the power company came to turn off our power for lack of payment, and she torn the poor man a new one and I was sobbing.  The time I got tar on my new shoes, she sobbed.  She cried a LOT.

I looked to my sister for moral support during those times.  She would baby-sit my brother and I when Mom and Dad worked.  She made lunch fun - took our orders like a restaurant and had WYYY playing on the radio.  She would take us swimming at her boyfriends house.  My sister would try to get my brother and I to sing harmony on the song "Windy" while riding in the car. 

As I got older, Mom stabilized a bit more.  Mom made sure we went to Church.  It was Mom I ran to during the Christmas show at Church went I messed up my lines and went crying down the isle.  Mom made wonderful Sunday meals.  Mom often cooked for relatives who would visit on the weekends.  Mom made sure not everything was negative in the house.   (My Dad was a very negative person.)  Mom would listen to me talk for hours on end about nothing in particular.  Mom encouraged my artistic side.  Mom called me her 'sunshine' and laughed at me when I was being funny.  Mom hit me only once in my life, and that was when I said the "F" word when I was 17, so I deserved the smacking.  Mom didn't interfere with me when I was older and decided to move in with my friend Vickie the last year or so of High School.  She just let me go.  I never once looked back to wonder if this was tearing her apart.  I just told her I had to be with Vickie because Vickie was alone (her Mom had moved to Florida) and Vickie was not going to be alone and I kind of just lead two lives with Vickie and home.

My Mom never got a driver's license.  She was dependant on everyone for transportation.  I think I remember my sister trying to teach her once, and I think I remember my Dad trying to teach her.  She would panic.  She couldn't do it.  I know panic, so I can sympathize with her now, but it must have been hard for her not to be able to escape when she needed to.  I remember the times when she was the most upset, she would grab her walking cane and go for a long walk.  On occasion I would tag along, and she would tell me what plants were what.  (I don't remember anything about the plants now, just the sassafras bush and poison ivy.) 

I miss my Mom.  I still pick up the phone to call her, even after all these years.  I miss telling her about the exploits of my children at night on the phone after a very long day.  I wish I could tell her how upset I was that she always felt of herself as the 'blacksheep' of her family.  She always put herself down.  She never took credit where credit was due.  She took humility to a whole new skewed level.  My Mom was a good person, she should have allowed herself that much personal honor.  My Mom loved pansies and butterflys.  When my Mom would sneeze (which she did with an intense force) us kids used to pretend she was knocking us over.  When we would get her laughing, she would bounce head to toe with laughter and the laughing would increase when we started laughing at her laughing.  I miss my Mom.

I miss my Aunt Vera, too.  Aunt Vera died on September 1, 1994 from an apparent heart attack.  Aunt Vera was my Dad's sister.  I met her when I was 12 and my Mom had left my Dad for a week, so Dad was alone with my brother and I and decided to go to his brother's family reunion.  My Dad was not social and didn't interact with his family much.  Going to meet these people was a big step for him.  I spent most of the time with Vera that day in her bee hive hair do.  I bonded quickly with her.  She said I could come spend time with her up north during summer vacation.  I did.  That started a beautiful relationship.  She was independent and outspoken.  I needed that kind of example in my life.  She took me places and showed me things I had never seen.   I openly talked to her about subjects I couldn't approach with my Mom.  Vera had a hard life too.  She told me stories.  I looked forward to spring breaks and Christmas vacations and summer vacations with her until I graduated.  After that I would talk to her almost every Sunday on the phone.  She came down to see me when my children were born.  I know for a fact there was no other time in my life I cried as hard as I did the night the phone call came in that she had died, except for the time the phone call came in that my Mom had died.  Both times it felt like the air in the room had vanished and I couldn't breathe.  Sigh.  I miss my "Moms" and I hope they knew how much I loved them.  I am a better Mom because of them. 

--------------------------

Well, so much for not doing anything today.  I decided I was going to clean the carpet.  The dogs had stains all over it from drooling and from what else I'm sure I don't want to know.   It looks much better now.  I also cleaned the bathroom and did some laundry.   My husband took us out to dinner with his Mom and sister and brother in law.   We had a nice time.  I am full and I didn't have to do dishes nor cook.   Win Win. 

May 19,2006 - My daughter has just left for Jazz Band 15 minutes late.  She's a senior this year, and there are only 5 more school days left for her.   Leaving the house at all with any commitment to school at this point is very hard for her.  I remember that feeling...

My Mother's Day was very pleasant last Sunday.  I told the kids earlier in the week that I wanted a new vacuum cleaner for Mother's Day.  "One that sucks big time!  Bagless, too!" I commanded.  Mind you, I have drilled into their heads the fact that you don't get a woman/mate general appliances or kitchen crap for major holidays - that it is not acceptable to get her a set of pots and pans when she really wanted new fuzzy slippers or a cute nightgown and when a mother or wife says she doesn't need anything or want anything, get her something frivolous anyway.  The kids were kind enough to repeat what I had taught them back to me, "...but we can't get you something for the kitchen or a major appliance because..."  That in itself made me laugh.  "Yes, I've stated many time NOT to get a present for a woman/mother/girlfriend that would involve doing housework immediately after opening it," I laughed, "but Mom WANTS a new kick butt vacuum cleaner this year.  I really really want one.   The fact I don't need one really as we have one that sort of  makes this a frivolous gift!  Do you see now?"  They agreed, in a confused sort of way.  "The vacuum cleaner has to come from your father, however. You must relay this wish of mine to him.  I expect gifts from you guys that represent the fact you know what I like and have noticed something out there that would bring joy to my heart because I am your Mom and the mere fact I'm your mother makes you want to bring it to me."

Mother's Day morning, the dogs woke me up.  They got up on to the bed and actually stood on me, and stared at me.  When the staring routine didn't work, they proceeded to whine and lick.   They had already cut off my air supply with their huge bulk, so I woke up to see what the issue was.  Kia lead me out to the living room where there was a large box covered with an afghan.  She 'pointed' toward it, looking back at me as if to say, "There was something new in the living room and I am showing you this fact for your own safety."  I knew by the size it was my new vacuum.  This made me extremely happy.  I seriously wanted a new one.  I love the bagless ones, and after I sweep I take the cup of dirt and force everyone to look at it.  "Look how dirty our house is!  Can you believe it?  And that was from the second time around sweeping!" 

I left the box untouched until my husband got up (just to torment the dogs) then I ripped into my new vacuum box.  He put it together for me, and then I spent three happy hours just sweeping.  The sucking power on the thing rocks.  It even has a "power paw" for doing curtains and furniture.  I would dump the cup after every section I cleaned.  "Oh My Gosh, look at how much crap was on the curtains!" I would squeal with delight.  "Holy Crap, look at this!  This was from behind the couch!!"  I was thrilled.  The suction on the new vacuum (which by the way will be referred to from here on out as Xena Queen of Suction) was awesome.  I believe the thrill of sucking up unseen dirt is the same type of thrill a woman gets from squeezing zits... there is stuff there that has to come out, and getting it out either through pressure or suction is a cheap thrill.  I made my husband sweep the couch as I watched.  I still did the cup thing - "Holy Cow - see how much ick was stuck in the cushions?" - but made him do the labor. 

By the time I was done I was covered in dirt and sweat and extremely happy.  The kids were up by then and gave me really neat homemade cards.  My two sons got me a case of votive candles from Yankee Candle.  My daughter got me a half case, so I had two dozen candles!  I love candles.  I had several going in just minutes.  They also made dinner for me later in the day - steak on the grill and a salad and sweet corn.  I lazed around the house and demanded things and got them.  All in all it was a good Mom's Day!

As this is my daughter's senior year, there is seldom a night where there is not something happening.   We went to see her concert on Wednesday night in Portage for the 'Legends' group.   It's a percussion/brass ensemble that is nearly 80 strong and THE SOUND WAS SO DELICIOUS!  It started at your fingers and blew upwards.  I was floored by this!   How wonderful.  Last night was her high school band concert.  That was a long one!  Winter Color Guard and Winter Drum line performed.  Both Jazz Bands performed.  Concert band and Symphonic Band performed.  My hind quarters were so asleep by the time it was done, I couldn't get up to give them a standing ovation.   Symphonic did my favorite 'Stars and Stripes Forever' to end their show.   Ending on 'Stars and Stripes' is always a marvelous way to end.  I hope they can find a band to perform that at my funeral.  The crowd wasn't as rowdy as you would like to see a crowd at a school concert, but I think we were all overwhelmed at the length of it and in semi-comas by then.  I did manage to waddle out to take pictures of the seniors after the concert.  I had not cried the whole time during the concert until then when I saw them all together...then I cried.  As much as my daughter has complained about her friends and kids and situations at school over the last four years;   as much angst as our children suffer due to high school cliques and peer pressure;   when she saw the senior pictures after we got home she sighed, "I love my Class!"  That is what you hope your kids remember about events in life - the love.  :)

Next week there is something every night and the week after that she graduates!  Sigh.  The rate of speed that life passes you by to this day astounds me.  Zippppppppppppppppppppp - plop.  It goes by.  (Sound effects required for the effect!)  Just yesterday she was a screaming baby who hated my guts and only loved her Daddy and had a fetish for eating live bugs!  Where did the time go?

May 23,2006 - There is so much to report, and I fear if I do not type tonight, I will lose it from my head forever!  My poor brain can only hold so much information before it starts bailing out little buckets of random knowledge to make room for more.

Last Friday my daughter had my youngest son in tow when she went to get her check from McDonalds and then went to the bank.  Not wanting to be seen in a "boring bank with his stupid sister" my son stayed in the car.  As he was sitting there, he noticed an older gentleman getting into his car and then noticed something fall to the ground as the man got in.   My son stared at it a while and realized it was a wallet.  I will now tell you the story as he told me in his words.  "So like I'm sitting there, OK, and thinking I won't do anything 'cause it isn't my wallet then I got to thinking that maybe he had all the money in there that he had in the whole world and maybe he would go hungry and stuff and then, OK, I thought like I would want someone to find my wallet if I dropped it, not like I ever have any money 'cause you don't pay me enough for allowance, OK, so I was thinking and thinking and knew it would bug me all night if I didn't go get it for the guy and before I made up my mind, I was out of the car and picking up the wallet..."  

I made my son tell me this story over and over again.  Why?  How often do you get proof positive that your kids turned out well and you maybe did an OK job in raising them?   This was almost an award for me as a Mom... "Your son has successfully passed the GOOD SAMARITAN test!  Congratulations!"  or "Thank you for successfully instilling morals and values into your child.  You may now go forward and attempt to pay for college if you dare..."  I was so proud of him.   I was proud he wrestled his conscience and the good side won.  The 'right thing to do' won!  The "do unto others" function kicked in and overcame any doubt he had.  He made a decision based on what he knew was right and how he was raised - all by himself!

The man was hesitant to open the door at first to my son, but did so when my son held up his wallet.  The gentleman cracked his door a bit and my son said, "Is this your wallet?"   The man took it and looked inside.  He smile a wide smile and whipped out two dollars and gave it to my baby.  "Thank You young man!" he said.   "Gee, thanks!" my son said, accepting the money and going back in his sister's car.  (I wanted to say, "You shouldn't have accepted any money"   or "Remember to do nice things just because they are nice, not because you want a reward" but I wasn't going to dampen his happiness at doing a good deed at that moment, plus he didn't do it for a reward to begin with.)  When my daughter was coming back to the car the older gentleman was leaving, but he turned around and drove to the passenger side and got out and handed my son 13 more dollars through the window.   "Returning my wallet was worth much more than this..." he said, and thrust the money into my son's hand and scooted off.  My daughter, when she heard the story, praised her brother up and down.  When he told me the story and got the reaction he did, he blushed.  "I just did what I knew I should..." he mumbled.  As if I ever doubted he wouldn't... Smile

This is my daughter's last week as a High School student, and it's jammed packed full of stuff to do.   Monday night was her last concert with the drum and brass group 'Legends.'   They have kids from several school districts in the band, and they played at three of the schools.  It was so cool to have this loud kick butt drum corps in our auditorium.  They are loud and GOOD.  I loved it.  I was so proud.   The kids played so well!  The music just blows out and up and hits your fingertips and ripples through your skin.  Sigh.  After the concert on the way home, my daughter said, "Mommy...that was my last concert..." (Not entirely true, there is the Memorial Day parade and their trip to Florida to play at Disney, but their last official perfomance...)

We did not cry that night, but tonight was a different story.  It was the band banquet/awards.  Sigh   At the end the band director calls up the seniors and parents, and standing there with my daughter - seeing all these kids you have watched grow up and mature over the years - well, it finally hit home.  I cried.  Then as the banquet broke up and pictures were being taken, I cried more.  I am crying now.  Some of those kids feel like my own.  Through the good times of middle schools and high school and through the bad times of cliques and petty crap, these kids are awesome humans.   FELLOW HUMANS, not kids anymore.  Starting a life of their own soon, and going forth into the world. 

Makes a Mom get emotional, I tell you what.

Have you noticed lately, or is it me, that many songs on the radio mimic ring sounds of cell phones.   I spend a lot of time turning the sound down on the radio because I think it's my phone.  I do this several times a day.  (The times my phone is actually ringing, however, I figure it is a song and ignore it completely.)  Technology complicates things.  Cripes.  There are also many songs that make me think there is a fire truck or ambulance right behind me as well.  I think I'll stick to the oldies channel.  The only thing that startles me with my 'oldies' music is the occassional cow bell.

May 25, 2006 - Today was my daughter's last day in High School officially.  Seniors last day.  She was quite emotional last night, but not today.  "It didn't feel sad today, Mom.  Just felt kind of exciting to be done!"  Tonight was to be the Senior's Honor Banquet but they cancelled it due to a Tornado Watch in our area.  When she called me to tell me it was cancelled, she said the only thing that could "ease the hurt in her heart" for not going to the banquet was me "bringing home Little Caesar Pizza" for dinner.  That made me laugh.

After work I ran to the store and got a few groceries, got some cash, ran to next town over to get pizza, and stopped at our favorite ice cream shop and picked up our favorite ice cream then headed home.  We celebrated her last day junking out.  I doubt if it will storm and we probably could have gotten away with the banquet, but rules are rules.  I'm sure they will reschedule. 

My daughter did, however, manage to save the day tonight for a goat.  The kids were out walking the dogs when I was burning papers, and they went out back by the fenced in field where the neighbors goats, horses, and donkeys graze.  They were watching the baby kids frolic when they all headed in for dinner to the barn.  (The goats, not my children.)   Either someone calls them all in or they just know when to go in to the barn for supper.  They go single file in a b line to the barn except for the kids, who are loping all over and making goat noises.  My daughter noticed one goat staying put by the fence and bleating to beat the band.  She went to investigate after a bit.   The goat's head was stuck in the wire fence.  She tried to get it out for quite a while, to no avail.  My son went to help her.  No go for the goat.   Then she noticed four baby goats loose in the field beyond the gate making all sorts of noises.  The goats tend to get out frequently but stay pretty close by.   I think the goat with her head stuck in the fencing was Mom, and the little kids on the lamb were the reason she tried to push through the fence.  She was quite agitated by being detained by a fence.  I made my son come back through the field then took his shoes so I could go out to my daughter.  We both tried to figure out how to get her head back through.  The horns were the problem.  I finally told her to just go get in her car and drive over there (the drive way to the farm is on the next street over) and tell them they had a stuck critter.  I talked to Momma goat as I waited for a rescue.  I fed her grass and clover while we waited, and scratched her ears and head.  She finally relaxed enough to lay down and quit fighting the fence.  We discussed the weather and politics for a bit.  Then we lamented our role as mothers and had a good laugh about the last episode of the Simpsons.  Finally my daughter came back.  She walked out to me and squatted down and petted the goat as she told me she reported the detainee and they said, "One of them is always getting stuck" and seemed not to be as alarmed as we were.  Obviously no help was on it's way right away.  My daughter was staring at the goat and said, "I've always hated goat's eyes!"  You know, I've never noticed their eyes!  I'm 45 and just realized they have rectangular pupils.  Where have I been??  My daughter was amazed that this fact had eluded me for so long.  "Geez, Mom!   Didn't you ever go to a petting zoo?" she said. 

We waited for a bit, then finally my daughter, who had been analyzing the fence and head placement, decided to try one other way to push her head through.  It worked!  My daughter is a mathematical genius!!  Hahaha.  Momma goat pranced off "with dignity" as my daughter noted.  We had saved the day.  (Or so we would like to think.)   We walked back to the house while checking ourselves for tics and had smiles of contentment on our faces.

Some seniors go get drunk on their last day of school.  My daughter plays Dr. Doolittle.

Woot.

May 26, 2006 - I feed the birds all winter and all summer long.   It's in honor of the memory of my Mom, plus now I just like watching the birds myself.  For days I have put out suet in the suet feeder out front only to be suetless by the next morning.  At first I thought I had just left the latch undone on the suet feeder.  Day two I thought maybe the squirrels had gotten smart enough to unlatch the suet feeder.  Day three I thought it was due to deer knocking open the suet feeder, but by Wednesday night I realized it was due to raccoons.  I could hear them outside talking amongst themselves in their raccooney voices.  "Ah Ha!" I proclaimed to no one in particular, "those little turds are stealing my suet!"  So last night I torqued down the suet feeder door with several large cuttings from a wire hanger.  "I'd like to see them try to figure this out!!" I said to myself in a very cocky way once I had secured the feeder.  This morning I woke up to a full suet feeder, finally.  I am sure it will take them a while to figure out how to use power tools to get that sucker open again anytime soon.   (Although now I'm not so sure I will be able to get it open again myself!)

May 30, 2006 - The three day weekend whipped!  ZOOOOM!   Now it's back to work and real life and all the fun one human can stand before spontaneously combusting!

I was sitting here this morning doing my dial up work stuff when I heard an ever so soft version of 'Taps' playing...somewhere... I know it was 'Taps,' but I couldn't pin point WHERE it was coming from!  I wandered around the house then outside for a bit, but still couldn't tell where the solo trumpet player originated from.  It was cool in an ominous sort of way, however.

My amazing hearing is inherited from my Mom's side of the family.  Slow loss of hearing is a common trait, or at least I like to blame my genetics.  Grandpa was almost deaf and had a hearing aid.  Mom had a hearing aid.  Aunt Jean has trouble hearing.  (It couldn't have been all those years of Led Zeppelin and rock and roll volume levels so outrageous it often blew live birds out the sky within a six mile radius and caused sonic booms; I am sure it wasn't that!)  The only thing I hate about slowly losing hearing over the years is the directional part of it...knowing where the sound originates.  Many times I hear a sound, but have no clue from where the sound is coming.  If at any time you are on a hiking trip and the name of the ranger leading you is 'Sandy' - make sure it's not THIS SANDY!  I could tramp you all through the forest but I couldn't tell you which direction that wolf call came from in time to keep you from being consumed whole.  

My oldest cat, Muffy, who must be at least 10 years old by now if not older, will put both front paws in the water dish and sits there drinking.  He then leaves a water trail all over the house as he drips.  He has always done this, and I have no clue why.  It's one of his little quirks.  Even pets have little quirks.  You accept his little quirk and have a towel handy and love him anyway.  Except his one quirk where he pisses all over the tread mill and entertainment center because you don't let him outside as fast as he knows you are capable of...that I don't like.  If we don't jump right up when he walks over by the door, he starts the tail flipping process to warn us.  Then he actually fires when ready if we're not on our feet by then.  That is one quirk I've never come to appreciate about Muffy.  Nope...not one bit. 

June 5, 2006 - The deed is done.  My daughter R a graduate!   It was a beautiful sunny day, but the graduation was held in the gym due to our football stadium being torn down and getting rebuilt.  The gym was packed.  It was hot.  Somehow, though, you don't seem to mind the heat when you see your kid march out to "Pomp and Circumstance"... After arriving at the gym as I was looking out over the set up, I cried!  Seeing the band there ready to play ... seeing the chairs set up for the seniors ... the podium ready for speakers ... the mass crowd there to cheer these young people on ... my daughter's name in the program ... yep, I sobbed a bit.  Then I calmed down until they kicked into the music, and I cried again.  I perked up when I saw my daughter come in and watched her intently until she was in her seat position.  I silently wept as they sang the 'Star Spangled Banner' - several of the kids are headed right off to serve in the military after graduation.   I zoned off a bit during speeches, going back in my memory to the last 18 years of my daughter's life on this earth.  I snapped out of that revery when they started going up for diplomas.  I got it on film when they called my daughter's name.   When we watched it later, you could hear me suck in a sob right after they called her name, but then you can hear us all screaming insanely for her.  It felt overwhelming seeing the kids you knew as toothless elementary schoolers now taller than you, marching up to shake hands and get their diplomas.  Their lives are open books now.  They can climb mountains if they want.  I hope they treasure every minute of their breathing days and carpe diem the heck out of life.

And now, I would like to sing to the class of 2006 a little song from my youth...

Secret of Life by James Taylor

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time
Any fool can do it
There ain't nothing to it
Nobody knows how we got to
The top of the hill
But since we're on our way down
We might as well enjoy the ride

The secret of love is in opening up your heart
It's okay to feel afraid
But don't let that stand in your way
'Cause anyone knows that love is the only road
And since we're only here for a while
Might as well show some style
Give us a smile

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

Now the thing about time is that time
Isn't really real
It's just your point of view
How does it feel for you
Einstein said he could never understand it all
Planets spinning through space
The smile upon your face
Welcome to the human race

Some kind of lovely ride
I'll be sliding down
I'll be gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

June 14, 2006 - I have so much in my head that I would like to put down in words, but I will forget two thirds of it all before I can type it, so consider yourself darned lucky!

Important stuff to type about...I wonder how many songs were inspired by those tones you hear on the phone when a company is transferring you to another extension to another and another in search of a breathing life form?  I heard one that was exactly like the first four notes of "Purple Haze" the other day.  I've also heard one that reminded me of "Blue Moon" and another just like the beginning of Beethoven's 5th.  Oh, sure - you can get me on the technicality that transfer tones and stupid answering machine mazes from hell were NOT around when any of those songs were written, but I am sure that had they not already been written someone would have been inspired to write those songs after spending twenty minutes shooting around the world on fiber optics to talk to a real human in Bangla Desh only to find out you dialed the accounting department, not the technical department and you will have to start the whole day long process over again to talk to to Besty in North Carolina in tech support, so "Thank You, Call Again..."

This last weekend was my daughter's graduation party.  It went well, I guess.  As you know, if you are hosting a large event you barely remember it during the process and rely heavily on feedback from people who attended.  I compare it to childbirth.  You plan and plan, then it happens and you are stunned and dazed during the whole process and when it is over all you can think is "Wow!"   I made home made salsa and and home made baked beans and home made meatballs and an olive / cauliflower / broccoli salad with feta cheese.  Yum.   My sister brought a lovely pasta salad as well.   I also got two platters each of a variety of cheeses, meats, and fruits from a local shop.  There were two delicious cakes, buns, condiments for sandwiches and the normal picnic stuff.  I do remember forcing everyone who was eating the peanut and M&M mix to look to see my daughter's name on the M&Ms.  "Look at the M&Ms!  LOOK AT THEM NOW, I TELL YOU!!"

I had the open house at a local park, not my house.  After hearing about other parties and clean up and the like, I think I was smart to have it off site!  (Jane has killed a total of 19 flies in her house after her party for her daughter!)  The kids played badminton and bouncy ball and played with bubbles and my daughter was a proper hostess and greeted everyone.   From feedback, I assume it went well.  The home made stuff went like wild fire, and I sent a lot of meat, cheese, and fruit home with people.  From a head count by the family the next day, there must have been 70 peoples there.  The only thing that bothers me about big events like that is you can't allocate yourself to everyone like you feel like you should.  (Hence the 'coma' mode one operates in at such events.  You float around like melted butter on boiling water best you can.)

So many good friends and family were there!  I was so happy to see my friend and old partner in crime from work, Jeff.  He brought his son, Matthew who is a junior hunk like his Daddy!  I adore Jeff and have not seen him in a long time.  We used to play off of each other like professional verbal acrobats at work.  Sigh.  Good times.  Jim and his wife came, and I've not seen him since the downsizing at work in December.  Jim had just walked up when another dear friend, Diane, walked up in the distance behind him.   (Poor Jim - I love Jim dearly, but had not seen Diane for two years, and started to blubber like a baby at the sight of her, and Jim was in the line of fire.   (Who knows what the poor guy thought!  Here I am, heading in his direction in hysterics and he's probably wondering which direction to run!)  Crash (Cheryl) was there, and I had not seen her in ages!!  Judie came, and she's all sexy skinny now!!   In laws and siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles and friends...oh my!!  I would love to go to that party again as a guest, for there would be so many cool people to talk to!!

After everyone left and we were packed up and picked up, we sat there in the park alone as a family, my sister and nieces and great niece and nephew and kids and husband and my daughter's boyfriend, opening the cards/gifts.  So many nice cards and gifts and monies.  My daughter is a lucky kid, and I am blessed with wonderful friends and family.  After we got home, I made my oldest son help me with dishes and put stuff away so it was DONE.  My daughter said many times how much fun she had and how much she enjoyed it.  I hope she knows how proud we are of her!  Sunday I was barely able to walk and was so exhausted!  Not old, it was just OVER and I had a semi-shut down.  My daughter had already received many cards and monies the previous two weeks from friends/family that over all it was overwhelming the support she received! 

Sunday I made my daughter pack to go to Florida.  The Jazz Band headed down there Monday morning to play at Disney Land and do the parks for a week of fun in the sun (or rain, depending on what Alberto brought with him!)  What a wonderful opportunity!!  I had previously typed out lists for her to check off while packing each suitcase and carry on and also a shopping list, but I made her do the shopping and packing and buying.  She managed to get it all done by 6:00 a.m. Monday morning.  The only thing she forgot (and they were NOT on the list, so I forgot) were her Dinkles.  (Dinkles are a brand of Marching Band shoe.  You can have sixty pair of black shoes but only one of those will be your "Dinkles" and you never call them "shoes" never ever and if you trip over them because someone we won't name here left them in the middle of the living room, you yell, "Pick up your damned Dinkles!" and if the dogs chew on them, you scream loudly, "The dogs are eating your Dinkles again!" ... but I digress...)  Fortunately for my daughter, the band director happened to have a pair in his office 'near enough her size' so I didn't have to run her Dinkles in at the last minute.  I got a text message from her very early on Tuesday morning that indicated they were in Georgia and the bus ride was "sooooooo long" and it was raining.  I had sent her several messages because I had seen the Alberto warnings and was worried that they were driving right into it!  They arrived at Blizzard Beach on schedule and spent the day at the water park there, waiting for their rooms to be ready.

My daughter had college orientation on the 6th and 7th.  She called me at 11:30 from the dorm room she was in the first night just to chat.  "Um..it's 11:30, honey..." I stammered after flying out of bed to get the phone.  "I didn't realize it was so late.  I was bored!" she replied.  She was quite whiney, which indicated to me she needed to go to bed, so being the "hip, in tune" mother I am, I told her, "Go to bed!" and practically hung up on her.  I think I hurt her feelings that night, but I was tired and had just fallen asleep.  (One day out of the house and I'm already treating her like a stranger!) 

Things have settled down a bit now at home.  My oldest son is working 12 hour shifts all this week, which sucks for his younger brother who is flying solo.  Youngest had big plans on waiting up until big bro got home at 11:30 so they could 'hang' together, but now he's forced to go to bed when I do, as there is nothing to do and no one to do it with and he's not staying up until 3:30 a.m. if I have anything to say about it.  I leave him a 'to do' list every morning.  I mix it up so he HAS to read it to do everything on the list.   He wants to do everything on the list if he wants his allowance this week as he has big plans for the money.  Tonight he and I walked the dogs.  (Wait, did I say 'walk' the dogs!?  Silly me, we are dragged by the dogs!)  We are trying to teach Jake and Kia to walk like decent, law abiding puppies instead of dragging our flailing bodies behind them at a high rate of speed.  Jake is finally "getting it" to a point, but Kia is another story.  The still end up choking themselves and making that drowning sound in their throats as they pull on the leads.  We also brushed them as they were in dire need of a brushing.  We brushed Muffy as well.   After brushing and brushing and taking turns and pulling hair and brushing more, we finally gave up.  Muffy looks 20 lbs. lighter, if I do say so myself.  The birds will have a hay day with the new white and black lawn blanket.  Muffy was never more content.  He did deserve a good brushing and some attention as well, as there has been a dead mole left on the stoop every morning for over a week.  I always show the dead mole to the cats before I pitch it in the garbage and praise the heck out of them.   "Good Kitties, Good Kitties!  Bring me MORE!"  One morning there was a dead sparrow out there, and they didn't get the red carpet treatment, so they went back to moles because as we all know, cats are smart that way. 

Work will get crazier soon, as we are (most likely) getting a new 'box' and will have to migrate to that 'box' and I've never migrated to a new 'box' in my life.  So many details to worry about.   I am sure we will survive, but there is SO MUCH to do prior and during and after.   Plus there is the normal job to do...  I miss Jim so much.  If Jim were here, he'd be migrating to the new 'box' and I'd just be barking at him to remember to do everything.  Sigh. 

There are two cranes that have returned and are eating out of the bird feeder again.  We think they may be the children of previous cranes, but who knows without tagging their hind feathers with tags from year to year?  They seem smaller than normal adults would be.  There are no babies, just the adults, and they come up every morning on schedule at 7:30 a.m. and make their loud crane noises when I leave to go to work and hop and flap their wings at me.  The dogs and cats will crowd into the front window to watch them and it doesn't seem to bother them that they have a pet audience. 

I think I have typed it all, at least all that was in my head for a week that needed to come out.  It is now time to post this puppy before midnight, as I promised a few people I would POST TODAY OR ELSE!  ("Or Else" probably just means I would post tomorrow or the next day, but I'm not brave enough to find out for sure...)

June 15, 2006 - On June 14, 2006 my 13 year old son TOOK A SHOWER without being told and also broke down and used "the girly stinky smelly" skin lotion on his peeling sunburn.  This is a monumental moment in our lives and I wanted it noted here for posterity

June 25, 2006 - When I got in my car to go to lunch on Friday, the song playing on the radio when I started my car was "Take the Long Way Home" by Supertramp.  I was seized for a moment with panic, then laughed out loud at myself and patted my car's dashboard and crooned to her "Ah, you're a Ford but you are not a Pinto, are you love?" 

You see, back in my glory days my second car was a green Ford Pinto Wagon.  (My first car, a 1960 something Rambler, had died a proud death - the motor mounts finally rusted through and the motor cocked and I drove all the way home from work on a Saturday afternoon at 10 miles an hour praying profusely that I wouldn't die.  Dad quickly found the Ford Pinto Wagon for a price that didn't cause us all to have strokes, hence it became car number two.  Dad didn't want to have to "haul me around" as he stated several times.)  Vickie and I spent many hours in that Ford Pinto Wagon doing things we probably shouldn't have been doing but we did nonetheless.  The Ford Pinto Wagon took us all over the greater southwestern and southeastern portions of Michigan area at the oddest hours.  We had good times because of the Ford Pinto Wagon.  The Ford Pinto Wagon was pretty much reliable (except of course considering the exploding factor of all Pintos in general at the time) until they started playing "Take the Long Way Home" on the radio.  It got to the point when we heard the first resonating note of the song that Vickie and I both flew to the radio to shut it off in hopes of stopping the inevitable...the Ford Pinto Wagon's points would break.  I am sure it was coincidence that the points would break JUST when that song was on.  (I wrote about this in the 2000 year diary entries...)  Still, after all these years just hearing that first note to that one song can paralyze me with fear for a split second.  I find it very funny. 

Odie is upstairs crying through the vent in the floor.  Odie is the oldest dog I've ever owned.  He is a mini-Doberman mixed w/Chihuahua.  He is blind and nearly deaf and weighs the same as he did all of his lifetime - seven pounds.  We got him from Amanda's Mom in 1992.   He was the runt of his litter mates and I fell in love.  I have written about Odie many times over the years.  His age has been "15" or so for six years, I think, when I have typed about him in the diary.  (Talking about Odie has become my version of a fishing story..."He's 1000 years old and he is THIS BIG, but I landed him after a fight, boy howdy...")

Odie was MY dog in his hay day and had to sleep in any cranny or nook in my folds of fat he could find for body heat exchange.  Odie used to be quite playful and we spent many hours swinging him around on chew ropes and watching him bounce off the walls during spaz fits.  Odie was always adventurous when he could see well and would often break out and go visit the neighbors several houses down before one of the kids could tackle him and bring him home.   He was fast, too, being only 7 lbs. but he was built like a buff tiny tank.   He was the alpha male of all male dogs in our house over the years.  All other pets we've had just naturally gave him that respect when they became family members.   He let everyone know his status and often at that.  (Even to this day with 65 pound Jake, there is a bit of submission to Odie - as I believe Jake understands the pecking order.  Dogs have that sense about them.  Jake has challenged him several times, however, and recently won a snapping Odie nipping fight to have my attention.  The mighty are falling...)

I speak of Odie now because for the last three years we are sure that "it won't be long now" before he shuffles off this mortal coil.  Last year, due to his blindness and general overall condition, I even stopped buying him a license assuming that "he'd be gone soon." 

Odie has turned out to be the energizer bunny of all little dogs.  He keeps going and going...I believe at one point he was diagnosed with heart worm (or so my family tells me but I honestly don't remember that) and still he goes on.  He coughs like an old Jewish grandpa.  He still seeks me out by smell, the only thing still working on the poor little dude.   He knows exactly when I get into bed and HAS to be in bed with me.  He HAS to be in the chair with me in the living room.  His teeth are rotting and he smells badly when exhaling, so he is shuffled from family member to family member as his stench overwhelms them if I'm not around for him to sit with.  He can still go up the stairs, but not down again without falling, so he just sits up at the top of the stairs or up at the vent in the floor in my daughter's room CRYING until someone carries him down stairs. 

As much as the family finds him a nuisance, I just can't bring myself to give up on him!  I still respect the heck out of Odie.  He's not in the way - he's just Odie.  Besides being blind now and nearly deaf, I see no other major malfunction and reason to 'put him down' as it were.  He still has a burst of "youth" at night when it's bed time.   Once I put him up in bed, he plays with me for several seconds before retiring under the covers.  I just can't write him off yet.  Sigh.  He's been through Hubert, Sandy, Frank, Sparky, Kia, and Jake over the years, plus countless cats/kitten combos.  He's held up through it all pretty well.  Nope, I'm not ready to write off Odie yet...

My youngest son has to have full blown braces.  He's missing four permanent teeth.  They say that is genetic, but after a tooth counting on all immediate family members, I am not sure where this genetic part fits in - we all have all of the normal amount of teeth for humans.   (My husband heard this fact and said, "One more reason that supports my suspicions..." as we all laughed.  As our youngest son has blond hair and blue eyes as opposed to the first two who are brown/brown, we've always been teased about the youngest being alien or spawned from another father...but I digress.)   After his braces are on, he has to have four teeth pulled out by our normal dentist to continue on with the tooth treatment.  The Orthodontist also wants him to have his gigantic tonsils out.  They are big enough to be an obstruction and the doc feels my son would be better off without them.  (They ARE huge - they have their own country code in the phone book, I swear.)  After hearing about all the fun he's going to have this summer, my son stated that "he was going to have a complete overhaul!!"  I feel for him.  (I feel for me...have you see the cost of braces these days?)  We are hoping that with the braces will come clearer speech for "Garble Boy."   We have attributed the issue of his chain-saw-under-water speech pattern to puberty, but maybe his mouth has something to do with it too!  Stay tuned...  My oldest son just went for his semi annual tooth cleaning.  They say his teeth are mega strong and he'll always have them since they are so mega strong and good.  How does one kid end up with perfect teeth and the other missing some?  I myself have lost two fillings in the last two weeks.  As you all know, I hate going in for a filling.   I lose control and panic in the chair if I have to have my mouth open for too long, but two major fillings falling out causes major mouth dysfunction, so I will have to have them filled.  I am trying to get my gumption up to call for an appointment.  I will start now begging for mind altering drugs to help dampen the panic.  Sigh.  

As you can tell from all this babbling - I really have nothing to say.  Work has been busy as heck and I don't see an end to that any time soon.  Home life is home life.  All in all - life is crusing along just fine. 

July 8, 2006 - My life lately has been full of work related stuff, so nothing really humorous or exciting has happened.  We did go see the fireworks at Schoolcraft on July 4th.  They were beautiful.  One song they did fireworks to was 'Over the Rainbow' and my favorite part of the show was when the song said "...and troubles melt like lemon drops..." a small burst of beautiful yellow fireworks exploded and 'melted' down in the sky.  It was pretty awesome.  It's the little things in life that make it worth living...

I had to work in Grand Rapids on Friday.  It is about 60 miles from where I live.  The drive up was OK as drives go.  Not the worst traffic I've ever seen, and the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.  When I got closer to Grand Rapids the solid cement barrier separating the north bound from south bound highway lanes were lined with broken headlights, strips of trim, and metal parts from cars.  Yikes!  They must have a LOT of accidents along that stretch.  I checked my speed and concentrated on my driving.  I was going to a new site to set up offsite tape storage on Friday, so I had to go a bit north of Grand Rapids and to the west a bit on 196.  Michigan is, however, the Orange Barrel Capital of the World this time of year.  Traffic construction EVERYWHERE.  That small stretch of 196 I had to travel didn't let me down when it came to construction.  Sigh.  When I got to the site I found an unlocked door and just walked in.  I saw my co-worker Doug had signed the guest book before me.  That was a comfort.  We were to meet and do a tape inventory.   (He had gone to our former tape offsite storage to pick up our inventory of tapes to bring to this new place.)  Now mind you, I walked right in to an off site 'secure' storage facility.  That did not give me warm fuzzies.  I walked into the warehouse area looking for someone.  "Hello?" I yelled.  I saw two people way back in the warehouse walking up the aisle.  I waited for them.  I announced who I was and why I was there.  "I don't know what is going on here..." one of the men said, "I'm taking you to Missy!"  I had emailed back and forth with Missy prior to this event, so I looked forward to finally meeting here.  "Um, I just walked in, sir..." I mentioned.  "The door wasn't LOCKED?" the poor guy said.  He led me to Missy's office.   "Is that SANDY?" I heard a voice squeal.  I met Missy.  I hugged her.  She said, "Doug was just here about ten minutes ago!  I sent him on his way to the other site.  Something is mixed up.  You are not supposed to be here - you are supposed to be at another offsite storage facility across town!"  After a bit of small talk, I begged her to show me the direction to a bathroom, as I have a hair trigger bladder and it had been subject to 1 1/2 hours on a highway with extensive construction areas.  After taking care of business, she drew me a map to get to the site I was supposed to be at.  I mentioned to her as well that I had just walked in like some common street bum, because I thought she should know. 

With Missy's map in hand, I set out to find the REAL site.  Not knowing the area, I was reliant on the hand drawn map.  I drove past the city's big hospital, the hospital's school, some run down areas of town, then into a better district, and suddenly THUDUD THUDUD THUDUD...BRICK ROADS!  I cringed at the sound of tires on bricks.  (When my brother and I were kids, the doctor's office was in the downtown Kalamazoo area that had brick roads, so even though my parents didn't tell us we were going to the doctor's office, we KNEW as soon as we heard the THUDUD sound of tires on bricks that we were going to get shots!)  I came to a dead end on the street I was on, which opened up on to a lovely lake and beautiful houses and fancy restaurants.  "Something is terribly wrong..." I sighed as I pulled over to call Doug. Missy's map was missing some vital directional highlights.

When Doug answered, I asked WHERE IN THE WORLD was he and he told me I over shot the location, and to come back several streets and turn right and TADAH I would be there.  He was waiting for me out in front of the building.  We were an hour behind in our project, but I felt much better that I had finally found the place.  It was a nice Friday morning adventure.   We got the inventory done and headed back to the place where our servers are located across town by 3 p.m.  We finished what we had to do and then headed home. Phew.

Speaking of road construction, the main road to our west is getting a bridge replaced, so for the summer they are routing all traffic around our next of the woods.  The critters don't take to all the traffic so well.  This is a high deer crossing stretch of road.   Several deer were in my yard this morning wondering if they should stay on this side or chance the crossing.   I have not enjoyed the fact there is 6 times the traffic past my house that there once was.  It's only temporary, however, so we will all grin an bear it.  I am convinced we are raising a generation doomed to be deaf...so many cars that go by with woofers belching out bass so loud it shakes the house windows and breaks glass in the next county.  How they can drive with that blaring is beyond me.  (Yeah, I know - I'm showing my age.)

July 10, 2006 - It was most awesome, it was.  My family and I went to Muskegon Summer Celebration yesterday to see Train perform in concert.  They were FANTASTIC!  I loved it!  We sat next to a cool couple from Grand Rapids who didn't mind my enthusiasm for the music.  (Meaning they didn't call security when I got all excited over a favorite song and jumped up and down like a dork and screamed and stuff.)  My kids didn't mind either!  It was so great.  Sigh of contentment.  Train did two covers of Led Zeppelin songs and they nailed them dead on and their last song of the night was the Aerosmith song "Dream On."  It was so delicious.  Of course they did all of their 'hits' and fan favorites, too.   After that most awesome show there were fire works over Lake Michigan!!  It was a wonderful day, to say the least.  Getting home wasn't all that bad, either!   (Once we got out of Muskegon.)  I love being with my family.  They are so cool to talk to and laugh with and discuss life with.  I am so blessed I could poop myself.

More from July 10, 2006 - I had to write a bit more about the concert last night, before I forget.  (Already today while listening to my Train CDs, I would swear they played each of the songs I heard on those CDs at their concert but since they didn't play for 6 hours, we know that is totally wrong and Sandy's mind takes too many liberties in memory mode...)

First of all, the band Train consists of the following members:  Pat Monahan - vocals, Jimmy Stafford - guitars, Scott Underwood - drums, Brandon Bush - keyboards, Johnny Colt - bass guitar.  Pat is very good at working a crowd.  He is so good that if he tried to sell cars last night, I most likely would come home with a new car. 

It was supposed to rain last night as well.  Storms were supposed to pop in from Lake Michigan at any time.  There was one very dark and ominous line of clouds above us at one point, and Pat mentioned we would soon be blessed with some rain and get cooled off which was the perfect lead in to songs with the word "rain" in them, by the way.  It did spit some rain on the crowd, but the cloud passed to the south east.  However, the crowd was witness to said cloud line creating plumes of billowy storm head type clouds that were like watching an explosion in slow motion.  It was most cool.  The billowy white clouds slowly exploding outward and upward were lit by the bright sun, which only increased the intensity of the sight.  The storm line had lightening as well, but it was far enough away by the time it had lightening where we were all safe and could 'oooo' and 'ahhhh' all we wanted.  When it got darker, the lightening was even more appreciated visually with an almost full moon peeking out from gaps in the storm.   Very cool.  Nature rocks.

Not once did a bug bite anyone during the shows.  However, once the band left the stage and we all turned around to watch the fire works, there were sheets of mosquitoes swarming all over EVERYONE.  I can't think the sound would have kept them away, but who knows?   Maybe the Summer Festival people paid the mosquitoes off??  Fireworks were lovely with not only the sound of booming explosions in the air but also of the sound of 3000+ people slapping themselves in unison to ward off the bugs.

On the way home as we neared Grand Rapids, and older cars zoomed past me on the exit to US 131.  It had been raining there, so I am not sure if the guy was just drunk and when he went to accelerate he lost control of the car or he was out to make trouble with us as my son and husband said he gunned it and spun around on purpose.  Who's to know?  When he lost control, he swung around and was facing us (the wrong way) on the on ramp to the highway.  He just sat there, so I just stopped.  "What the hell is wrong with that idiot?" I exclaimed.  That stupid car just sat there, not moving.   If someone had sped on to that on ramp behind me, we would have been rear ended.   All the while I'm thinking to myself "Did I cut that guy off or something?   Why is he mad at me?  I wonder if he has a gun.  I hope the kids will be safe..." A million thoughts all in a split second.  My husband told me to drive around him up on the slanted curve of the on ramp.  I started to and the guy still didn't move!  A motorcycle came up behind us and slowed down and stopped and only then did that car move ever so slightly to his right enough to let me pass by having one set of wheels up on the slanted part.  I didn't make eye contact, hoping if he was mad or insane or something that he would be pissed at me not looking at him and just shoot ME and nobody else in the car.  My sons said he was a younger white male.   After I and the motor cycle got past him, I could see him turning around (which is near impossible to do sober let along stupid and possibly drunk as the on ramp is shaped like a wide U) to come back up the on ramp behind us.  I was so happy to get on the main highway and get the heck out of dodge!  If it was that motorcycle that stopped that car from doing anything stupid, I send out my heartfelt thanks to our helmeted angel where ever he/she is. 

My oldest son said, "Man, that guy had to be drunk!"  He sure acted that way.  Young, Drunk, and Stupid.  That was the only bad part of the night last night!  I hope a police man found him eventually as he was driving up and down the on ramps like an ass harassing people and hauled him away.  Had I seen him in the rear view again we'd have all called 911 at once on the four different cell phones out and ready in that car!!

July 17, 2006 - So, for the last two days I've been 65 miles away from home fighting with a tape drive smaller than a bread box and losing horribly.   We are getting a new main computer system, and the business partner we are leasing the new system through loaned us a tape drive to use to back up our current system.   The tape drive is an LTO tape drive which can hold so much more on one tape as opposed to the type we are currently using, plus it's a much faster backup ... (but of course, I wouldn't know this as I can't make the stupid thing work.)

By all rights, this should have been a very easy task.  On Monday, I went to unplug the older tape drive, and plug in the new one.  Well, that didn't work.  So I tried a few more things.   Those didn't work.  I counted the pins on my scsi (or as we like to say - scuzzy) cable to make sure there were the same amount of pins vs holes that I was shoving it in to.  I reconnected the old tape drive and the system saw that just fine.   I connected the loaner tape drive again, and my system just ignored the heck out of it.  Sigh.  I tried for hours every possible type of connection and set up aside from rebooting the server.  (We have a almost mainframe sized IBM server and you don't just 'reboot' it - you have to shut it down in an orderly fashion and IPL it, which takes about 20 minutes.  You just don't shut a company's main data source without fair warning.) 

I called and emailed our IBM Business Partner several times.  (Mark, the poor soul, has not even met me yet but I could almost put money on the fact he already has a voodoo doll of me.)  He was at another customer's site and gave me many suggestions, most of which I had tried already.  "Maybe it would work if you IPLd?" he ventured.  I emailed my friend Judie for advice.  (She's the AS/400 guru who was my teacher/mentor when I first started in the computer department.)  She asked questions and gave me suggestions, most of them I had already tried.  Sigh again.  At least I knew by talking to them that I wasn't completely insane and what I thought should work SHOULD normally work. 

In between all this fun of wrestling with a 5 lb. metal box while it kicked my behind, I tried to keep up with my normal work on my laptop from the Data Center where we house our servers.  I updated people on what was happening, and told my boss I would have to go back up on Tuesday.   I drove home pondering the situation.  I got back on the work servers after I got home and emailed the general public announcing down time for the system at lunch on Tuesday, caught up on some other work, put in an electronic help ticket to IBM themselves hoping they would call in the morning and correct the errors of my ways, and spent several hours researching this type of situation on the IBM support web site.  I crawled into bed at 11:15 or so, pondering the situation.  I was almost asleep when a very strong thunderstorm just showed up unannounced.  The curtains in the window in the bedroom suddenly shot straight out and sucked back up into the window with force.   "Yikes?!" I muttered as I flew out of bed to assess Mother Nature's activities.  I finally went BACK to bed around 1 a.m, pondering now the weather and my work situations. 

I went back up today for round #2 with the little piece of *#& tape drive.  The little piece of *#& tape drive was once again victorious.  Aaron from IBM called me and asked me many questions and suggested many things, most of which I had already tried.   "Lordy, it's just a metal box!!  How can it be winning?" I asked myself over and over.  The servers are in a secure data room where you can't just walk in and out of.  One of the engineers there has to be in the data center with you.  I pity them.  In and out and in and out I went all day long.  They probably have Sandy voodoo dolls as well.  The IPL at lunch time didn't work either.  

I called Mark to see if he thought of anything between last night and today.  He was on a plane!  In flight!  "Hang up, this could crash your plane being on the cell phone like this!" I yelled at the top of my lungs in my most concerned motherly voice.  (It was then I realized that when you find out someone is on a cell phone 30 thousand feet in the air, suddenly it's like talking to someone from another country - yelling will obviously make them understand everything you are saying...)

I will meet Mark finally tomorrow when he's at our site to hook up the new server.  My team mates and I finally decided to just do a current system save on with the current tape drive (which I'm in the process of doing right now -remotely) and haul that huge monster tape drive over to the new box and hook it up when it comes time to restore the new system.  Big Sigh.  (Assuming the new box will 'see' the old tape drive...)  This is the biggest project of my life time (besides of course having children and all) and I've already been beaten by an inanimate object in the first phase!  I hope this is not an indication of things to come the rest of the week.  I also hope that Mark or Aaron from IBM don't just walk into the data center tomorrow and touch the evil-black-tape-drive-from-the-bowels-of-hell and it suddenly works.  Some one/thing will have to die if that happens, I swear! 

And yes, Jim, it was plugged in!  :)

July 23, 2006 - Ah, the first half of the project is over!   Viva Technology.  Thursday night I came home so tired that I barely made it home.  I did OK driving home with my coworker, Tadd, there to talk to and laugh with, but when I dropped him off at his house everything in my mind and body went in to shut down mode.  I thought to myself, "I can't drive the rest of the way home!   I am too exhausted!"  I panicked for a bit wondering if I should call someone to pick me up when my youngest son beeped my phone.  "What's for supper?" he said in his manly under-water-chain-saw voice.  It made me laugh.   Here I was thinking I couldn't drive another mile and he's wondering what is for supper.  Reality slapped me in the face.  Just because I'm tired doesn't mean the world stops.  I got a burst of energy and made it home with McDonalds for supper in tow. 

Tadd and I broke down the cartons of our new machines and unpacked them back in the warehouse of the data center when we got in on Wednesday morning.  It was Tadd's birthday.  I felt so bad making him do this when it was the day of his birth.  We got all the equipment into the data center ready for Mark from our business partner to show up.  I did some work out in our rented cubicle while we waited.  Then Mark showed up and made everything look so easy.  Tadd and Mark did all the manual labor of mounting the machines into our rack.  I worked out in the cubicle.  I also made arrangements to borrow/rent an LTO tape drive from one of the people I do business with down the road from the data center.  Neighbors and friends are good to have.  In the mean time, Mark decided to disassemble the tape drive they loaned us.  He got it working in no time!  Ta Dah!  We had a tape drive.  I called off the borrowed tape drive and played with the loaner on our current system to make sure it would work while the boys finished racking the machines.  We got done exactly at five p.m. and headed home.  (If you stay over, the data center charges you over time because they have to have someone on site to be with you.)  From home Wednesday night, I got a full system save on the loaner tape drive and had the system back up enough to do a normal back up on our normal tape drive by by midnight.  I was tired but damned happy.

Thursday morning started out extremely rainy.  I was supposed to call Mark and tell him when I thought I would get in to the data center.  I called him the second I was on the highway (he showed me his phone, it said 7:54 a.m. when I called) and told him I would be there in an hour or so.  I got to the data center at 8:36.  How did I make it to the data center in 40 minutes when it's 65 miles away and I wasn't speeding and it was raining very very hard?!!  I have no idea.  I was there before poor Mark and Tadd (Tadd had stayed in Grand Rapids at a friends for the night) showed up.  Mark was sitting in the parking lot waiting for me for 15 minutes before Tadd got there and they came in.   "What are you doing here?!" Mark asked.  "I've been sitting out there for 15 minutes!"  Time is vital when loading a new system.  You have to load stuff, reboot, load more, reboot, load even more, reboot, then test stuff, reboot, etc.

After trying to figure out how I warped up there in record time and what space/time portal I had used, we got to the project at hand.  Throughout the day, the new machine was being loaded while Mark showed us how to use our new tape drive and other handy things.  The boys went to lunch while I did the last loading of the updates needed.  It's so peaceful in the data center.  They have to keep it cool due to so many computers in there kicking off heat, so there is the constant sound of the fans that circulate the air conditioning.   I almost fell asleep several times while waiting for the updates to finish and reading IBM manuals.  (That in itself can put you to sleep - READING MANUALS!)   The boys came back from lunch, and we finished updates, loaded security keys from IBM, and tested a few things.  We were cleaned up and packed up by 5:02 p.m. 

We still have to go back to hook up and test modems, etc.  We still have to do testing from the home front and have people do 'normal' things to make sure everything works.  Then when we are happy with testing, we will have to do one final system save and upload current user libraries/files to 'go live' on a weekend when no one is on the system.  There is still much work ahead, but within two weeks, this whole project will all be a good memory.   (Wait, this project will just be a memory - good has nothing to do with it.)

I was back in the office on Friday, and my best friend Vickie had sent up a box of pinwheels to my work place earlier in the week.  She had used them for a baby shower or a wedding shower or the like, and could only think of one person who would appreciate a box full of pinwheels...ME!  When I opened the box, it was full of such colorful pinwheels - blue, pink, purple, and red.  I am like a crow when it comes to shiny things.  I love shiny things.  I also love things that are just plain FUN, and pinwheels are FUN.  I passed out the pinwheels to the accounting end of the building and to my coworkers.  I taped some to my wall and pointed my fan at them and set them to maximum rotation mode.  All day long anyone who walked in to my office laughed out loud.  "Only Sandy!" people would say as they saw my wall of pinwheels in motion.  It was wonderful.  Deb sent me a message and said they were all running up and down the hallways in accounting with their pinwheels to get them to spin.  How wonderful.  Carol sent a message thanking me for the "whirligig thingy" because it made her day.  (The auditors were in last week and this week, I believe, and it's pretty high stress down on the accounting / admin end of the building.)  One box of pinwheels, Vickie, brought so much joy!  THANK YOU!  I only got one negative bit of feedback and that was from Mike, who was convinced I gave him a pinwheel the color of the Detroit Tigers to rub in the fact the Tigers beat his Sox team.   Hahaha.  I had no idea that event took place as the news is the LAST things I've seen in the last week. 

Friday night after supper, I laid down as I was so tired...OK, I actually passed out I was so tired.  I woke up and looked at the clock.  It said 8:55 but I was not sure if it meant 8:55 Friday night or 8:55 Saturday morning.  I stumbled out into the living room.   "What day is it?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.  "Saturday!" my husband said.  "Wow!  That went fast!" I said, and sat on the toilet for some time getting my bearings.  "Funny, doesn't feel like I slept so many hours.  Must be I was just plain exhausted!"  I got up and turned on the tea pot to make my morning cup of coffee.  I always stare out the front window in the morning for a few minutes as I'm waking up, so I went and took up my position as I waited for the tea pot to boil.  In the drive way was my daughter and two of her friends.  They went to Lake Michigan on Friday, and there they were in the drive way!   "Did they just get home!?!?!" I asked, still thinking it was Saturday Morning.  As my husband laughed, I was finally awake enough to realize it WAS Friday night, not Saturday morning.  It was sort of funny.  I turned off the tea pot and smacked my husband hard.  My youngest son thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.  I was just grateful for the extra full night's sleep I was going to get! 

Saturday was uneventful.  I did as little as possible.  My left eye was irritated and felt itchy.  I used my allergy eye drops and ignored it.  All day long it hurt and itched and I ignored it, since for a year now I've had such issues with my eyes getting itchy from allergies apparently.  For supper Saturday night we made homemade chicken quesidillas and tacos and had corn on the cob.  My daughter left to see her boyfriend play in his band, and the boys went up to play on the computer, and I just flipped channels on the TV and did nothing and thought of nothing.  It felt great. 

The puppies have destroyed my daughters bean bag chair, apparently, as there are foam pellets showing up all over the house.  Jake came downstairs with a mouthful of them.  They have been falling down into the kitchen through a vent in the floor into our daughter's room.   (This is a very old house, I assume there is a vent in the floor to help distribute heat upstairs.  This wasn't even supposed to be a house, it was supposed to be a garage.  The people who built it just stopped and converted it into living space in the early 50s or so.  But I digress...)  The hole in the floor is a very handy communication portal to the upstairs world over the last 25 years, I must admit, but it is also a hole in the floor - so whatever has exploded in my daughter's room also rains down into the kitchen.  When it was my oldest son's room years ago, Legos fell through on a regular basis.  Both boys used to spit through it when they were little until I got wise and punished them.  (Hey, it's a hole in the floor, why not spit through it, right?)  Odie uses the vent to cry like a girl when he wants to come downstairs.  That floor vent has been a source of entertainment for years. 

This morning when I woke up, it felt like there was a large, heavy squishy tomato on my left eye.  There wasn't.  It was just my left eye lid.  It is swollen and red and my eye is very itchy.  I don't itch it.  I took a shower and have used my eye drops and am now going to go lay down and put an ice pack on my poor left eye ball.  I look like I got into a bar fight without the benefit of having been drunk.  Sigh. 

August 6, 2006 - I cannot believe it is AUGUST already!!  How can time go so fast?  This whole passage of time thing eludes me.  I still feel young and useful and not so old.  (I hope to feel this way if I live past 70 as well.)   The "in between" years from my birth until this very second seem fresh in my mind and not that long ago to be honest.  The statement that 'time is an illusion' is so true, but of course you don't realize that it's an illusion of sorts until you are dazed and confused at time's passage in general at an older age.   When you are young you think to yourself that you have all the time in the world and ignore some things and damn the torpedoes on other things and you just don't get the sense that time will even pass, EVER.  Then once you get older you think to yourself that all the time in the world means nothing if you can't remember where you parked your car at the grocery store ...

But I digress...

I love hot air balloons, and was thrilled to see one launch from down the road!  Someday I will fly in one of those things, and if not me when I'm alive then my ashes when I'm dead will be spread upon the heads of  unsuspecting victims below as they are dumped from a hot air balloon! 

The BIG PROJECT at work has been in test mode since I last updated, and we "go live" with our new mainframe this coming Saturday.  So far, so good - things are going well in testing and in general.  I am no longer as scared as I was or stressed as I was.  I had put my jaw out of place from the stress and had to go to the chiropractor last week just to get it put back in place.  I was biting the inside of my mouth from my jaw being so askew and it just HURT in general, and as you know, once you worry about something it just focuses your mind on that area and makes it worse and it's all you think about and it stresses the area even more.  Since my jaw has been back in place, I can only say IT FEELS MARVELOUS.

We had not mowed inside of the dog pen for several weeks.  The 'puppies' were getting so they didn't want to go potty outside in the 'jungle' that was their poop pen.  They would hover by the door and whimper.  It got to the point we had to force them outside, and they would do their business and throw themselves at the door to come back in.  (At the time they were having jungle related panic attacks, we didn't realize it was due to the tall grass...)  After my husband mowed, it was like magic - they were happy to be able to go back out and enjoy their 'spot' without fear.  All we can figure is that there was a wild toad in the tall grass that scared them.  Now they are masters of their pee pee domain once again.

My youngest son and I were getting out of the pool last week, and I sat on top of the ladder fussing about how we would drag loose grass up on our wet feet into the house.  He looked at me over his shoulder and said, "If you would just buy hover boards, we wouldn't have to worry about that!"  I laughed all the way into the house over that comment.   Hover boards?  Where did that come from?  Smile.

My youngest son got the first wave of his braces on this week.  He has to wait to get full wires placed after he gets some teeth extracted.  I called our family dentist, and he doesn't "extract" teeth.  Sigh.  They told me who to contact.  I waited too long to schedule the teeth pulling as now no one can pull them out until October!!   I believe his response to that was, "Gee, thanks Mom for pushing my time in braces out two months!!"  (People at work suggest my husband just pull the teeth out with pliers like they used to do in the 'old days' and save time and money.   Trust me, I've considered this!)  The pain hasn't been too bad so far (knock on wood) for his face, but the fact he has to TAKE CARE OF HIS TEETH and brush after anything he eats and rinse after anything he drinks just drives the poor guy NUTS.  I flossed under his wires for him last night.  "You really have to learn to do this yourself!" I suggested loudly.  He is a hard person to floss, let alone floss when you have wires in the way.  After he has brushed for the allotted time, I have found dirt in his molars and have had to show him how to brush again.  I have also found goop in his braces with the pokey brush they give you to use.  "I brushed and brushed, Mom!  Where is that stuff coming from!" he almost cries.   We all keep telling him he will be happy in the end when he's not only handsome but also has beautiful sexy teeth.  "Upmph, Grrr..." he responds.

My daughter goes off to college very soon.  The first week is marching band camp, then 'real life on campus' begins!   She is getting scared and excited all at once.  More than once she has asked me to massage her shoulders to relieve the stress.  We talk about it often and I hope that helps.  I am thankful her college of choice is only 20 minutes away, tops.   I have asked her several times if she wants to live at home.  "No!   I need this experience!" she insists.  She has asked me to go shopping with her for dorm stuff, and it's starting to hit me, too - she will be gone to college!   Sigh.  We are lucky in this day and age, though - there email and cell phones and the websites to keep track of grades and such.  Sigh.  She will still be 'gone'...  She turned in her two week notice to McDonalds yesterday, and you would have sworn by her actions that she had just won a 12 million dollar lottery!   "Free at last!  Free at last!" she chanted and danced around in circles.  I had no idea how oppressive working at a fast food place was!  Smile.

The crane couple that hangs around was out enjoying the mud puddle out front.  They are getting quite brave.  I talk to them when I go outside, hoping they won't run.  They don't run anymore.  If the bird flu hits here, I will be one of the first to go ...

August 14, 2006 - My BIG PROJECT is officially over!!  HURRAY.   It went quite well over the weekend, if I may say so myself.  Sure, there were little things that didn't want to work, but all in all...IT'S OVER IT'S OVER IT'S OVER IT'S OVER IT'S OVER!!  No more driving 65 miles one way to work for a while.  My bladder is not a long distance bladder.  My bladder looks forward to being closer to restrooms.  Last week when I ran to the store during lunch to buy a few things and after I had grabbed a cart and was headed up the milk aisle, it dawned on me that I should have gone potty before I left work.  I saw my friend and a worker at the store, Peg, stocking fresh produce.  "Peg, do you have a public potty, please?  I have to pee pee!"  She showed me where it was, pointing towards the back of the store.  I parked my cart by Peg and headed back.  Once my brain heard the words "potty" and definite confirmation that there was a bathroom nearby however, my brain immediately sent the "All System Go" signal to my bladder...needless to say I hurried!

I made it in time but in my haste of flipping my skirt up and sitting down at a speed fast enough to break the sound barrier, the vortex created from the sitting speed sucked the back of my skirt into the toilet.  Yeah, sure I knew this had happened but I couldn't very well stop the process as I was committed at that point.  When I stood up,  I waddled to the paper towels and the sink and cleaned up my skirt best I could, hiked it around so the wet spot was in front and proudly walked out with my head held high to finish my shopping.  When I retrieved my cart, I pointed the fact out to Peg that I had my skirt in the toilet.  "Happens to the best of us!" she said.  I finished my shopping and on the way back to work had my skirt hanging off of the steering wheel with the car fan going and windows open to dry it out.  Not very lady like, but it worked. 

On the way back from Grand Rapids and the BIG migration PROJECT on Saturday - after spending 14 hours to migrate - I will admit I was plum tuckered out mentally.  I dropped my coworker, Tadd, off at his house and was heading home when I saw a sign for a church that I swore the sign said, "Don't Leave God Out Of Your Summer Pants."  I heard my neck crack loudly when I snapped my head back to read the sign again!  It really said, "Don't Leave God Out Of Your Summer PLANS."   It made me laugh quite loudly at my first misreading and it did help wake me up a bit, but man did my neck hurt!  Smile. 

While I was having dinner with my girlfriends tonight we were talking about our kids (of course) and I was telling them about my daughter moving out in two weeks to the dorm, and I had to stop because I was going to cry!  It finally hit me.  Like a two by four upside the head, it hit me.  My baby girl is going into the REAL WORLD.  Sigh.  Her big brother put in for a vacation day on the day we move her in.  It will be a family event, for sure.  The whole herd moving one person into a very small dorm room.   It should be just like home for her!  :)

August 17, 2006 - My youngest son had six teeth pulled out of his head yesterday.  I was so happy!  I was "happy" because they were able to get him in so fast due to a cancellation so we didn't have to wait until October;   I wasn't "happy" he had to go through teeth extraction. 

When they called to say they could get him in yesterday they immediately asked "Do you have insurance?"   Thank goodness I do.  "You are responsible to pay your percentage of the fee for extraction at the time of service..." they said.  So I'm thinking to myself that it wouldn't be that bad as they were just taking teeth out, not filling them or capping them.  I ventured to ask them how much - approximately - it would be.  "One hundred and ten dollars..." was their response at which I sighed a big sigh thinking to myself that $110 wasn't bad at all, but it turned out I had not given them time to complete their sentence.  The completed sentence ended with "...a tooth." 

"WHAT?!!"   I yelled.  I did.  I yelled into the phone.

"The 110 each is for the baby teeth, the two permanent teeth that must come out will be 210 dollars a piece if they are hard to extract..." 

"WHAT?!!" I stated again, in case they had not heard me scream it the first time.

I was in such shock, I told them I would call them back.  I sat there a second to compose myself.   Getting my son drunk and using a pair of pliers sounded more and more inviting.   How could anyone charge so much PER TOOTH to pull out a chunk of bone??  I knew he had to have then pulled, but HOLY CRAP!  I just couldn't get over it.  I felt as if someone had taken a tire iron and beaten me with gusto on the sides of my head and about my ankles and knees.  The cost of college and braces and now this was swirling around in my head.  I felt a bit overwhelmed.  "I'm not going to make it...  I need a second job ...  maybe I could sell blood ... why do fools fall in love ... if a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it..." It took a while for me to compose my mind to a point where I could call them back and accept the appointment and apologize for screaming at them. 

We went in the afternoon, my son and I, to get his teeth yanked out.  He seemed calm and dealing with it quite well.  I filled out all the medical paperwork you have to fill out just to get past the welcome mat.  I signed my name to a piece of paper that warns "these are the things that COULD go wrong but seldom do, however just in case, put your name here so you can't sue and initial hear in case something comes up we haven't listed here but we will list here after it happens to your child.. ."  I had to fill out our family medical history and give urine and hair samples and submit to a retina scan.  (OK, so joking about the retina scan but sometimes don't you feel that way with all the crap you have to sign, fill in, fill out, and commit to?)  Anyway, eventually we were led back to a very nice office with a very nice view.  (Probably cost 'em about, oh, I'd say 145 baby teeth to pay for that nice room.)  The nice nurse lady had my son get comfortable in the chair and talked about a few things that would happen while she was taking his blood pressure.  The sound was on the blood pressure pump was on, and loud at that, and I watched it go up to 110 beats per minute.   "Oh my, honey - you ARE nervous, aren't you?"  "Well, DUH MOM!" he responded.  He had acted so calm that I didn't even get ONE HINT he was scared.  When she took the blood pressure cuff off of his arm, I wanted to grab him and run out of the room screaming, "Don't hurt my baby!  Or if you are going to hurt my baby, do it for less money!!" 

The doctor came in before I could gather my son up and run out like an idiot.  He was a very soft spoken man and was very good at telling my son what the game plan was.  "Would you like to use gas?" he asked my son.  My son looked at me as if to say "Um, should I?" and I piped up and said, "Yeah, you should have gas!  You will like gas!  Gas will be fun!"  (Get all you can at those prices.  Throw in a foot massage too!)  So my son told the doctor "yes" he would like gas.  The doctor scooted me out of the room as I was getting more and more nervous and I'm sure he didn't want my mood to infect my son.   "It will be - oh - about 1/2 an hour, Mom!" he said as he shooed me out the door.  They were gassing my son up as I shut the door.

I think it was LESS than a half an hour when they came to get me.  My son was in the chair with gauze hanging out of his mouth and looking as if he had been hit by a car at high speeds.   The doctor was gone and the nice nurse lady went over what to expect, what drugs to take, how to handle certain situations, etc.  The whole time my son was just sitting there letting out an occasional muffled "gruglff" sound.

The nurse led me down a hallway to the exit area accessible only AFTER you complete the maze of accounting.   I paid my part of the bill and helped my son out to the car.  I gabbed nervously to him on the way home.  "How are you doing?"   "Gruglff" he would say.  "You doin' ok, honey?"   "Gruglllfff..." he replied. 

I got him home and laid him on the couch and changed his bloody gauze.  He wasn't talking much at that point, but the kid had six teeth pulled PLUS stitches so I didn't expect much.  His face was numb from his neck to his eyes and he was fascinated with flapping his lower lip as it probably felt so funny to him.  I left him in the care of his father as I ran in to get his prescriptions and to get something soft for his dinner. 

When I got back the bleeding had stopped enough to take out the gauze.  He laid on the couch and didn't say much.  He asked for pain medication, however.  I gave him a Tylenol with Codeine and he half dozed for maybe a half and hour.  After that, he sat up and ate some mashed potatoes then said, "Mom, can we go get a game for my PSP?"

I was so happy to see this burst of life in him that I consented to buying him a game.  After all, he had six teeth pulled and if I had to put that much tooth fairy money under his pillow ANYWAY, might as well get him a video game!  "Man, I didn't think you'd say YES!" he laughed.  We left for the store and he gabbed all the way there about how the gas made him feel and how funny it was and he didn't even notice what the dentist was doing.   We had fun in the store and got frozen cokes to drink on the way home.

I went to bed before he did last night, so he told me tonight when I got home from work that he felt like his 'jaw was broken or something' last night and had trouble falling asleep.  He did eventually get to sleep and when he woke up, he said it didn't even hurt!  DIDN'T EVEN HURT!!  Amazing.  He even did his normal chores today without being told.

Maybe it was worth the 110 dollars a tooth after all...

August 21, 2006 - Yesterday was the open house for our new football stadium.  We got new bleachers and track and artificial turf;  the works!   Before we went to the open house, my daughter and I took a showers before dinner.   I went first and then she went.  When she got out of the shower and came out the bathroom door, a wave of water followed her.  "Oh, Great!" my husband declared.  "I knew this was going to happen, I just knew!" he ranted.   We live in a very old house and the dry well and septic tank were all 'hand done' by the previous owners and we've not invested a dime in the septic areas at all (except for the time we had to replace the lid to the septic tank because it caved in and perhaps one other pumping between then and now.)  The dry well(s) - I think there are more than one in a line out from the septic tank - have finally outlived their ability to process our output.  They are backed up to the point of backing into the septic tank.   It isn't pretty.

My husband has been fussing about this for a long time.  He knew it was due to happen.  He had preached to us many times that this day would arrive.  In his typical male anger over an uncontrollable situation, he almost seemed happy that it finally happened.   "I told you..." was on the tip of his tongue.  I cleaned up the massive water spill in the bathroom and we ate the dinner I had prepared.  My husband couldn't eat.  He was too busy worrying.  It is my nature and my kid's nature to make light of and find the humor in drastic situations, especially if the subject contains the word "poop" - it has to be exploited for humor in my opinion.  (The word "poop" has always made me laugh for some odd reason, depending on how it was used.  I can't help it - it's just a funny word when used properly.)   Anyway, we were discussing how we would handle the process of the potty until we could get it fixed, etc.  Jokes were flying.  We were laughing.  (Everyone except my husband.)  He just put down his plate and pondered and shook his head a lot.  Finally he got up and got the Yellow Pages and was looking through it mumbling about "if you are just going to make jokes..." and the like.  I know he was worried about this situation because we are NOT up to code nor anywhere near ANY building code when it comes to the septic area and to replace the whole thing legally will be a large amount of money - even more than my son's braces but less than a year's worth of college.  I know he was wondering where the money would come from.  It seems lately we are blessed with the challenge of "when it rains, it pours" and I handle that with humor.  He handles that by cussing and brooding.  I suggested to him to start a blog on line.  It's very therapeutic.

My husband finally called a local "honey wagon" business we've dealt with before.  They came out and pumped our septic tank on a Sunday for only $238.00!  How kind of them.   They discussed what it would take to bring the septic area up to code and the man was very kind and helpful.  He said he would start the process of getting a permit to build and contact our local township person that had to come out and decide what we could do and couldn't do.  As my husband proclaimed several times, we knew this day would come.  I was not shocked, but concerned.  I am an avid pooper.  I tend to poop a lot.  I am glad they pumped us so we could carry on that process.  What we'll do when they are digging for and installing a new legal-up-to-code septic tank and drain field, I have no idea.  I suggested we rent a port-o-potty.  We'll see when the time comes.  In the mean time, the kids and I went to see the new stadium and watch the band march and see all the cool new bathrooms and refreshment stands,etc.   It was quite impressive.  There are now handrails up the bleachers, which thrill me to no end.  (I won't have to use the shoulder's of innocent bystanders anymore to steady myself!)  There are also no openings in the bleachers anymore in which to drop your purse, pop, or small children!  That is wonderful.  There is a large bulldog in the center of the field embedded into the artificial turf.  It was just plain nice.  I love my little town and am very proud of it. 

Now I am off to type up instructions to the kids on how to take a "mini-shower" of wetting your self down, turning off the water, soaping up all over before turning the water back on.  I already informed them how to do dishes in tubs so they can just take the water outside afterwards and water the grass/plants.  Hopefully that will tide us over, tank wise, until they come out and dig us a new one...

Poop.

August 22, 2006 - The septic tank professionals came out yesterday and decided (with the township person who has to make the official decision) that we can have a drain bed without a sump pump out front due to the incline in the yard.  This is a good thing, or should I say, one less thing to worry about.  They will begin ripping my front yard a new one next Monday.  I guess they fill the old septic tank with dirt dug up from the new one!  Ah, modern technology!  "Miss Dig" will be here sometime this week to plant the little flags that indicate gas and underground lines.  My cable is buried out there, too - I hope they don't mess with the cable.  It's one thing not to be able to poop on command, but it's another to be expect to hold it in with no T.V. as a distraction!  I will be glad when this is (excuse the pun) behind us and our front yard is all torn up and ready to be re-seeded.   I called and warned the neighbors on the side where this will take place that this was, um...going to take place.  I didn't want them to wake up one morning and fall into any open holes.  "Big wheels keep on turnin'... proud Sandy keep on poopin'..."  (Breaking out into song over a new septic tank doesn't seem normal, does it?  Smile.)  You know, the thing I'm concerned about THE MOST is the fact that the sandhill cranes who eat from my bird feeder will be driven away by all the excitement.  It is time they started booking their trip down south for the winter anyway, but I will miss them.  They spent many happy hours eating God knows what out of the excess of water building up over the one dry well.

Tomorrow I have a vacation day to take my daughter up for a meningitis shot that they highly suggest for new college students, then whisk her and my son off to get her dorm supplies, then whisk my son and her off to my son's meeting with the throat doctor to see when they can rip his tonsils out.  I have a secret wish that the doctor can do it the next day, so it's done before school starts.  I know this is just a wish.  We will have to wait for Christmas break, no doubt.  After the braces and teeth pulling, this should be easy for my son to handle.  He will be the king of the overhauled upper body before too long.

My daughter officially 'retired' from McDonalds on Saturday.  She's been giddy ever since.  Oppressive fast food working conditions can wear on a soul.  I think she will miss the money, personally.  She has purchased most of her books and we move her in next Monday to the dorm.  Sigh.  I have not been thinking about Monday on purpose.  I am not ready to move her out and away yet.  I warned her that I would cry.

August 27, 2006 - There is barely a walking path in our little living room - it has turned into a pre-staging area for my daughter's possessions she will take to college tomorrow.  She has been working on packing up her room.  Items she is not taking to the dorm have been packed away in boxes and put in the attic.  Items that are going with her are in the middle of the living room.  I have yet to go up to see what exists in the "undecided" category.  My youngest son will move into his sister's room as soon as we're back from moving her into her dorm room.   (Well, maybe not.  He wants it painted first.  He doesn't want to move into a room that's "all girly" he claims.) 

We went dorm shopping for her after getting her meningitis shot on Wednesday.  It was actually quite fun until we ran out of time and had to get her little brother to his doctor's appointment in the afternoon.  There are so many cool things out there to buy - who wouldn't want to move out and have their own 'space' as it were!  Every time we picked up something, I would lament "This is your first real adult pair of tweezers..." or "This is your first real adult pair of sheets..." and so on.  I was happy to spend time with her and so was her brother.  He will miss her sorely when she is gone.   Sigh. 

We took my son to see the throat doctor, and he is the same man that put in my ear tubes back in 1997.  He is a hoot!  He looked in my son's throat and said, "Oh yeah - these have to go."  He even called myself and my daughter over to look down my son's throat with that special curvy light they use.  Holy Crap!  He has GIGANTIC tonsils that go on forever and look like huge pitted asteroids.  Poor kid!  "His breath probably stinks most of the time, huh Mom?" the doctor asked.  "Oh yes!  He constantly smells like garlic or something icky!" I said.   "His tonsils are like a huge landfill, catching food and debris and it rots and you get that stinky skunky breath..." the doctor stated.  He is scheduled for October 12th for tonsil removal.  Finally his "upper body overhaul" as he puts it will be over.  He's been a trooper, though.  Takes it in stride.   I'm proud of him.

While we were shopping at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, my son pointed out magnifying mirrors that magnify your face up to 15 times!  I was mesmerized.  "Man, look at those black heads on my nose!" my son announced loudly, staring into one of the mirrors.  I, on the other hand, was just enthralled with the fact I had a dense black forest on my chin and neck.  I had just plucked what I could see that morning before we left, but when you are looking at something magnified 15 times, you tend to see what was left behind.   "I have a full beard!" I whined.  I couldn't stop looking!   Finally, I pulled one of the mirrors that were on the shelf beneath in a box and threw it into the cart.  "I gots to have one of those things!" I told the kids. 

Later that evening, I spent a good hour checking out my excessive facial hair.  I was just amazed.  Of course, when you magnify to that extent a quarter of an inch hair looks like three inches - hence the source of my amazement.  You could even see the different colors in each hair!  It was just - well, AMAZING.  I plucked and plucked hairs.  There were many in my 'forest' that were far to small to get out, but loomed in the magnifier like trees.  I came to accept the fact long ago that I was going to be one of the females who are more endowed with facial hair than most, but seeing it amplified like that made me a bit sad.  I suddenly had a flash insight about fleas and mites - what their world must look like from their point of view. 

I talk about beards and tonsils, but I really am just feeling gloomy about losing my daughter to the real world.   It has to happen, one way or another.  You shove those baby birds out of the nest and you pray they fly like eagles, but it doesn't stop you from shedding a tear as you push....

August 28, 2006 - The day is almost over.  While we were leaving to take my daughter to college, the crane and equipment was arriving to start ripping our yard apart and place the new tank and drain field.  (They would have gotten it all done today, too, had it not rained cats and dogs!  At least they hooked up the tank so we could poop and shower!!  They tried to fill in the hole to the old septic tank as that area is the pen where our dogs potty.  They didn't even break the fence down to do all of this stuff!!  The dogs thought it was their own personal sand box/play pen.  I have decided we will walk the dogs until all of it is filled in properly and leveled.)

We got my daughter moved into her dorm room.  It is such a tiny room!!  (We live in a tiny house, so I'm sure she is able to cope with the small dorm room.)  The kids moved her stuff into the room while I got her computer set up to use the college network and then went out to lunch.  We left her so she had time to settle in before band practice at five p.m.   I didn't cry.  She was so excited about the whole ordeal, that I couldn't cry... it was merely a new beginning for all of us.  (Of course, it has not settled in yet that she has moved out, so I am sure tears will flow later on when I come out of my shocked state.)

We stopped and got paint on the way home.  I started painting right away.  The roof is green, the walls are blue.  I was greenish blue when I was done.  I am a messy painter.   The boys are upstairs right now tearing apart beds and re-arranging things.  I am down stairs feeling my age.  I have waited up this long to see if my daughter would get on line so I could find out about the first day of band camp.  It's 11:40 and she's still not on line.  My oldest son said, "Duh, Mom - she's in college now.  She out doing something."  Sigh.  I know he's right.  I will go to bed and quit worrying.  I get my teeth filled tomorrow.  I have plenty to keep my mind busy thinking about that as we all know how I love the dentist.

August 30, 2006 - The dogs thought the pile of mud from the new septic tank/drain field digging was their own personal mosh pit.  They couldn't get over all of the new smells and new things to chew on!  My stars, they had a hoot.  Goodness knows what the dogs have consumed in the last 24 hours out there.  Can't say as I want to know...They are putting in the new system today.

I started Weight Watchers today.  Wish me luck.  I am forcing my husband and oldest son in to it as well.  We are all larded beasts and need to just STOP being larded beasts and get to the point where we can get out of a chair without the aid of a fork lift or airborne helicopter.  I love the WW point system.  I have no clue if it will work, but it sure makes you think.  (It takes you all day to calculate points so you DON'T have time to eat!  Clever of them!) 

I took my drugs and went for my dentist appointment yesterday.  I was very mellow when I got there.   It was an uneventful experience being all drugged and all.  I loved it!!  I was kind of upset though because they only had time to fill ONE tooth.  "Here I am all hopped up on goof pills and you are only doing the one?" I slurred at them in a forceful drunk-type voice.   "You need one side to chew on at least, and we are out of time..." was their flimsy excuse.  Smile.  Oh well, I guess that just means I can take the pills again in two weeks when I get the other one done.  The mood I was in yesterday they could have taken all my teeth out, fitted me for dentures, dressed me in hot pants and asked me to dance in the middle of town for money and I would have done it. 

The dogs made a break for it tonight.  Someone who will remain nameless (like my youngest son) didn't shut the front screen door tightly, and Jake figured it out and was gone with Kia in tow.   (The Dog Whisperer says they do that because they have no respect for us and we've not established ourselves as the pack leaders.  I am thinking he's right...)   They took off DOWN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD for several houses north of us, then veered off to visit a fenced in dog named Harley.  Here I am bra-less with boobs hanging  down to China with my hair all piled up straight on top of my head trying to cut off the path of my disrespectful idiot dogs while my youngest ran defense road side.   Harley's owner was out mowing.  Nice way to meet your neighbor.  Of course I start spewing forth excuses for their bad behavior and apologizing and suggesting military school for them and finally he said, "Really, it's OK.  Why do you think we have Harley fenced in?  He runs off, too."  By then my dogs had decided that they needed to head south and did so IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD causing many cars to stop quickly because they stopped to consume the left over raccoon road kill out front that had been there for several weeks.  They ended up at the neighbors two doors south from us who have a dog named Sadie.  (Sadie stays in her yard and is a good dog for the most part.  She does visit us often, but she doesn't run down the middle of the road and will stop and lay down if you call for her.)  Ron, the dear soul, squatted on the ground and Jake ran up to him and I was able to catch him from there.  Kia ran to Ron, too - so we had both of them in custody before too long.   I couldn't thank him enough.  Sue, Ron's wife, came out to see what was going on so we made brief small talk about the speed in which the septic system was installed then I apologized profusely about the dogs and their need for electric shock therapy. My son and I dragged the dogs home.  Sigh. 

August 31, 2006 - So my husband leaves me this voice mail yesterday that went something like this:  "You have to call home as soon as you can.   There is some serious %$^t happening here.."  I didn't get upset immediately because he will do that when he wants to know what is for supper or to tattle on one of the kids.  When I did call him, he said, "Are you sitting down?" in the most serious voice I have ever heard him use.  I panicked then!  "Oh my gosh, his Mom died or something!!" I thought to myself.  

I told him to go ahead and say what must be said.  "Well, it's pretty big..." he stated.   "WHAT?" I screeched.  He paused quite a while, took a deep breath and finally said, "They are changing the day they pick up our garbage from Thursday to Monday..."  Of course, I reacted by stating, "YOU IDIOT!  YOU MADE ME PEE MY PANTS FROM WORRY!" I hung up on him.  Hahaha. 

My daughter finally called!!  YEAH!  I miss her so much.  She has been busy as a bee with Marching Band Camp this week and her feet are hurting muchly.  I gave her suggestions and talked about things she has to get done today, etc.  Classes start next Tuesday.   She said she's going to declare her major in psychology.  Humans are, after all, quite interesting.

Flossing teeth when one has braces is an experience!  Cripes!  Although, I must say the flossing has brought my youngest son and I closer than ever!  He can't do it right YET, so I floss him.  It's a project in itself.  Sigh.  We do end up laughing a lot as I get covered in spit and drool.  Good Times...

September 1, 2006 - When you are on Weight Watchers, you have to read labels when you are grocery shopping.  Tonight after work (and a very long week) I went shopping.  I had made my way through the store and was on my last aisle looking for fat free or low fat cheese to use on the spaghetti pie I was going to make for dinner.   I was reading every brand's label, blocking the aisle, so I decided to park my cart 'out of the way' over by the freezer nearby.  I read and read and looked and looked.   Cripes.  My mind decided it had read enough information about cheese for one day (or for a lifetime for that matter) and apparently just shut down, forcing me to grab the cheese bag that was in my hand and throw it in my cart and finish up. 

I forgot a few things so I ended up zig zagging through the store again and finally made it to check out.   It was like seeing the finish line in a car race - I was so happy I was done and soon to be on my way home.  I put my cheese on the check out belt and the fat free ricotta cheese I grabbed, and then just stood there for a bit wondering when the heck I had picked up bread.  Slowly, it dawned on me ... "I didn't get bread!"   My eyes grew large as I realized that THAT WAS NOT MY CART!  There was a cart full of food I had not picked out (except of course for the cheeses and toothpaste and a diet root beer.)  "Oh My!" I declared loudly, leaving my stuff on the belt and backing out of the check out line to rush over to the service counter.  My purse was in MY CART wherever that was and some poor person had spent a good chunk of time in that store SHOPPING and didn't have their stuff!  I felt terrible.   I asked at the service counter if anyone had turned in a lost purse and/or lost a cart full of food.  "No..." was the answer. 

I swear I squealed the cart's wheels tearing through the store looking for #1 - A cart with my stuff in it and my purse or #2 - a person with a confused look on their face staring at their cart or #3 - a person with no cart and a pissed off look on their face.  People looked at me weird as I scanned the contents of their cart.  "My money!  My cell phone!  My food!  All gone..." I mumbled to myself.  I finally had a moment of lucidity and thought to myself, "Go To The Cheese...Go To The Cheese...."

I raced over by the cheese aisle and there was my cart!  Sitting there.  All my food intact...My purse intact...my embarrassment hanging all over the place...

I hauled both carts BACK up front and confessed what I had done.  I felt so stupid!  A nice lady told me "these things happen sometimes..." but COME ON!  I feel so bad for the person who had been shopping so carefully for items they needed and I STOLE THEM RIGHT FROM UNDER THEM!  I couldn't remember who was in the aisle with me.  I wish I could apologize to that person.  Can you imagine how they felt?  I still can't shake the "DUH" feeling.  That might take all weekend...and I am not speaking to my brain for a spell in defiance of its malfunction.  Sigh.

September 5, 2006 - My second official weigh in with Weight Watchers went well.  I lost 4.5 pounds.  (When you are trying to lose weight that "point-something" makes a WORLD of difference!!)  I have been pooping nonstop since last Wednesday, so on my weigh in day I was counting on that particular bodily function to help me out scale wise, but of course I don't go today...I am sure I would have lost a whole 5 pounds had I done that!!  I have to say I honestly like the WW point system.  It makes you think before you eat.  I can't believe how much I ate without thinking about it!  It has also made me come up with some neat dinner ideas and expand my use of spices and veggies.  We had chicken kabobs on the grill over the weekend that were to die for. 

My daughter lived through the first day of college classes!  My son lived through the first day of 8th grade!  The educational year began well.  I miss my daughter so much!   Yesterday I was putting on some old hand lotion she used to use and left behind for me.  Kia, my daughter's dog, woke up out of a dead sleep sniffing the air and went to the door, wagging her tail.  When she didn't find anything outside she started sniffing the house and came up to me and smelled the lotion.  The look that dog gave me almost made me cry.  Kia went back to her spot and laid down but she stared at me with an 'Elvis' lip for a long, long time. 

I got a lot done this weekend.  I steam cleaned the living room floor and swept all the dust down from the high shelves and washed my glass pretty-pretties.  Now that I'm not eating and sleeping constantly, I have more time to clean stuff!  (Oh hurray!!)  This week I plan on conquering my pot and pan cupboards and taking down all the dishes we never use but don't dare throw away and wash them up.  There must be six inches of dust on them by now.  I love to rediscover all the crap in the cupboards that I have forgotten about;  it's like Christmas.

My son rode a real horse for the first time on Saturday with his friend Taylor.  He got to see a horse show as well. All day Sunday, however, he ran around rubbing his inner thighs and lower back.  "Ouchhhhhhh..." he'd would moan as he rubbed body parts.   (Riding a horse for the first time can rearrange things for a guy, I imagine.)

September 11, 2006 -My daughter came home for a 'day with her family' yesterday.  It was nice to have her 'home' again even for just a few hours.  She played with her younger brother, passed out on the couch for a nap, then took a nice hot relaxing bath before we ate dinner.  The dogs went NUTS when she walked in.  All in all, Sunday was a great day!   I love it when the whole herd is together like that.

She told us a story about something that happened to her on campus.  "I think I've been truly introduced to the college world!" she announced proudly.  Seems her and her boyfriend were coming back from band practice toward night time one night and she noticed a bunch of guys running along the road.  She didn't think anything of it until she heard people shouting and other cars blowing their horns.  "...and that's when I saw the first penis..." she said in a thoughtful way "...they were all naked !  Thirty guys running naked down the road!!"  We all had a good laugh over that.  We were sure it was an act of hazing of some sorts.  We spent some time after that trying to figure out the proper word for the plural version of 'penis' because she had ended up seeing...well...plural of them, and I have always stressed to my kids to use the proper names for body parts.

*After investigating this issue with coworkers today, we found the word wasn't 'penii' as my daughter and I assumed was the plural version last night (urbandictionary.com says that 'penii' - pronounced peen-eye - is "A word made up by people uneducated in the ways of etymology. NOT THE PLURAL OF PENIS") it is actually 'penises' or 'penes' (pronounced peenees.)   Learning never stops!  No matter how you spell or say it, she saw it, and now feels like she is officially "in college."

September 12, 2006 - Hurray!!  Weigh in day at Weight Watchers and I lost another 7.25 lbs!  YIPPIE!  I didn't even feel like I lost one pound!  (Except for all the poopin' goin' on, I had no clue!)  My husband lost 5 pounds, and I have not seen my oldest son to weigh him.  Wow, all those home cooked low/no fat meals sure pay off!  Can you imagine how much we'd lose if we'd MOVE and EXERCISE!?   The only person suffering is my youngest son who thinks all of this is for the birds, all this healthy food and all.  (But I swear he's grown an inch taller in the last two weeks.)

This morning in my 'just waking up' daze and before my 'man, I need coffee' episode, I fed the dogs and put eye drops in Stewie's eyes.  Stewie is the cat we adopted back in November of 2004.   He has had a chronic infection in his eyes since birth.  Our Vet at the time had to do surgery on his poor little eyes more than once after he arrived.  (Some one had found a litter of kittens along the road and took them to my Vets.  He had found homes for all but Stewie, but then we took him.)  I have to treat Stewie's eyes every day for the most part.  No big deal.  I wrestle him to the ground and put in eye drops.  This morning was no exception.  However, after my shower I felt like I needed my allergy eye drops and couldn't find them.  I have drops for the days my eyes decided to expand out like air bags after a head on collision. I looked all over the place.  I had not used them for a while.  I looked high and low.  It wasn't until I looked into the box I keep Stewie's drops in that I saw two bottles.   "Oh crap..." I thought to myself.  I looked at the labels.   Sure enough, one of those bottles were mine and that was the stuff I had been using on Stewie for who knows how long!!!  Hahaha.  I guess it could have been worse, and I could have been using Stewie's drops all this time or my husband's hemorrhoidal  cream...

Tonight I cleaned out the microwave and the cupboard for the glasses.  I emptied out my silverware drawer and washed it out and sorted the stuff in it.  I am now going into the 'library' for a few minues of quiet reading time...

September 24, 2006 - A nice quiet Sunday morning, if you ignore the fact that the dogs are bouncing around the living room like excited electrons as they fight over a one inch square of raw hide. 

Last night we went to see the Western Michigan football game against Temple.  The score, I believe, turned out to be like 41 to 7 with WMU winning.  When we pulled into the parking lot, we could hear the band warming up and I started crying instantly.  I wonder what it is that is etched into my brain that makes the sound of marching band music such a powerful and emotion thing for me?  Sigh.  We listened to them finish up their practice, then 'marched' over to the stadium with them.  They get to march right down the street!  Police stop traffic just for them.  That rocks!  We went specifically to see my daughter in the marching band, but one always gets caught up in the actual football part eventually.  I believe that words such as "kill him" or "run like the wind" came out of me several times as I jumped to my feet to cheer.  I had to rely heavily on my husband to explain what was happening sometimes, and if he didn't know then  I had to listen to the other men who were explaining what just happened to their women.  The weather held out until after the half time show, which was of a Latin theme and very good, by the way.  After that, the rain came and it kept pouring.  Everyone who stayed was soaked, even if you did have on your handy dandy plastic poncho.  The band played in the stands like troopers through the rain.  

My husband and I had gone to the store prior to that to get all of us umbrellas as we knew it was going to rain.  After we got in the car feeling all smug about the fact we all had umbrellas, my daughter called and said, "Oh, by the way - the sign on the stadium says you can't have umbrellas in there..."  We sat there a minute laughing, then I went back in to buy a couple of plastic ponchos for my son and myself.  (My oldest son and husband had the rain resistant wind break coat type things, so they were going to just use that as defense against any rain.)  When I got home and showed my youngest son his poncho, he refused to wear the gross day glow orange bag and said he's just ride out any rain in his little fall coat.  We took the poncho and I ended up wearing it, but it didn't really matter what you were wearing - you were going to get wet.

My daughter's boyfriend's parents gave us their pair of season tickets for last night as they were out of town.  My husband and I were up in the 36th row at the 50 yard line which was a great view.  Every time an Amtrak train passed the stadium, the side we were on would wave and wave.  How cool.  I wonder what it looked like from the Amtrak train as people looked out of their window to see hundreds of people waving at them?  That would be pretty awesome.  The boys got tickets for the student side and via Nextel we coordinated to meet them after half time so we would all get wet together.  At the top of the fourth quarter, I had enough of the soaking process and dictated that we should leave.  We went and found my daughter in the band section, waved our good-byes, then sloshed back to the car.  All in all it was a wonderful game and the band was awesome and in every life a little rain must fall, so it was all good.

We've all been doing well on Weight Watchers.  Backslid a few times, all of us have, but so far so good.   My husband has lost 10 lbs. at last 'weigh in' and my son has lost 11.  I am up to 15.  I can't believe I was eating SO MUCH all the time that just by not eating it for four weeks, I could lose 15 pounds!  Cripes.  That was just horrific mindless eating!  Sigh.  I am running out of things to clean at night to take my mind off of food, however, so I ordered myself four books that I've never read done by my favorite author, Frank Herbert.  I purchased 'The Santaroga Barrier,' 'The Green Brain,' 'The Eyes of Heisenberg,' and 'The Dosadi Experiment.'  When they came in the mail I almost cried!  I love to read.  I love what my brain does when I read.  It sets up the scenes in my mind in very clear, crisp 'Sandy Vision.'  I love it.  That very night I read "The Santaroga Barrier' by 1 a.m.  Sigh.   I couldn't stop reading.  The next night I read all the way through 'The Green Brain' only saving the last chapter for the next morning's potty time.  My eyes can't take that type of abuse.  I have good eyes, they just get tired fast.  The poor things are still all red and puffy from all that reading.  I have to use ice packs on them when I read that much.  Even if I use my reading glasses, they still get all red and puffy and scream at me from the inside to "STOP READING SO MUCH, YOU IDIOT!" or "YOU SPEND ALL DAY LOOKING AT A COMPUTER, GIVE US A BREAK, YOU TWIT!"  I never listen, of course.  When you get past 40 you tend to abuse your body parts while you still have them to abuse.

My youngest son called me at work Friday to get permission to go to the football game with a friend.  He is my 'baby' and until that moment, I didn't realize how I fear losing him his own independent urges.  Sigh.  Whenever he wanted to go somewhere, he went with either his older sister or brother or me.  I questioned him extensively about the game, who's parent was going to be there, what was he going to buy for supper, etc.   "M-ommmmmmm...I'll be fine!" he insisted.  My husband took the phone.  "Let the boy go, woman!" he said.  "I know, I know..." I whined, "he can go."  My son got back on the phone and I told him to remember to act like a gentleman and (on and on and etc.)    "I know MOM - I KNOW!" he said.  I know he knows - it's me that has to be reminded.

September 27, 2006 - Today my first born son is 26 years old!   Sigh.  I was 19 at the time he was born, turning 20 a couple of weeks later.   We had no clue how to be parents.  Sigh.  When we left the hospital with him, the radio was playing 'Danny's Song' by Loggins and Messina.  Of course that made me cry like an idiot all the way home.  I will quote some of that song's lyrics here...

People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one,
And we've only just begun.
Think I'm gonna have a son.
He will be like she and me, as free as a dove,
Conceived in love.
Sun is gonna shine above.

And even though we ain't got money,
I'm so in love with you, honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning, when I rise,
You bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

He slept for almost two whole days after we brought him home.  I was scared to death!  I watched him sleep just to make sure he was breathing.  All and all he was a good baby.  My husband and I, however, just didn't have a clue to what we were doing. 

He never ate much.   That changed when he discovered french fries.  He loved french fries and of course Cheerios.  We got him to eat broccoli, however, when he was 2 or so by lying to him and telling him they were 'little trees' and he could chomp them up like a big monster.  He bought it.  He has always liked broccoli, and I never felt bad for the lying part.  They do look like little trees, after all. 

He was bone thin until he turned 5, then suddenly he discovered FOOD in all it's forms.  He had no issue eating after that.  My husband and I made many mistakes with our first born.  My husband didn't know how to be a good Dad, as his Dad left the house when he was 8 years old and the years proceeding that were filled with watching arguments between his parents.   I think that instinct when it comes to fatherhood is not necessarily inborn.   It took him many years to 'deal' with issues, not just yell them down or ignore them.  I had no clue on how to raise a child either, nor had I ever planned on having children.  Once they plop out of you though, you are committed.  I think you have to learn to be a good parent on your own, in a way.  I just pity my oldest as he was the learning post we scratched on to get it down right. 

He turned out well, if I may say so myself.  He has a wonderful sense of humor.  He is just a fantastic big brother to his sister and brother.  He can see both sides of any issue.  He has opinions, but he also accepts people for who they are.  He is terribly handsome, favoring his father's good looks, but he got the short stick on height and I blame my genetic input on that one.  Out of the three kids, he is the one I can 'sense' with the most intensity - I can 'feel' when he's in trouble or needs something.  Odd.   I love my oldest son.  Happy Birthday, Dude.  How can you be 26 when I'm still so damned young?  :)

Our Weight Watchers attempt is going well.  I've lost a total of 19.5 pounds and my husband has lot 15 pounds and my oldest has lost 16 pounds!  Go Family!  My youngest son has grown another 1/4 inch in the last four weeks, and I wonder if that is just "him" or it's due to the fact we are eating better?  Who's to know.  I have not noticed a thing yet, body wise, except for the fact I will need a new bra soon (the boobs are the first to go, I hear) and I can now fit into pajamas I have never been able to fit in.   Normal day to day stuff, however, I don't notice anything.  I guess that is a good thing, the gradual reduction.  At least I won't wake up in six months and say, "Oh my God!  I'm thinner!  What the hell happened??!  Who took my fat??"

My son drew a cartoon on the computer last night that he wanted transferred to a T-Shirt this morning.  We printed out on the special paper to make T-Shirts, and let it dry over night.  I waited until 10 minutes before the bus came to start the process of transferring.   Duh.  It took my 9 minutes to figure out how to get the backing off the stuff!   Arghhhh.  He just got to the bus on time.  Phew.

In two weeks my youngest gets his tonsils out.  He is nervous, and says so often.  "You think my heart was racing when I got those six teeth pulled out, huh?  You ain't seen nuttin yet!" he spews on occasion.  I tell him what it was like 'in my day' to get tonsils out compared to how it's done now.  This doesn't ease his fears.   "Hey, you get good drugs - don't complain!" I joke.  That still doesn't help.  Once it's over, his upper body overhaul will be complete and hopefully nothing else will have to be pulled, removed, or re-aligned again for quite some time.

October 5, 2006 - The colors of fall are showing up everywhere!   The variety of colors astonish me, even after seeing them for (almost) 46 years.   Sigh.  I love the trees that are mostly green still but have the explosion of color in the middle of them.  How lovely.  I love the smell of Fall.  I love the weather of Fall.  I love Fall because it's almost time for SNOW -   assuming of course there are no weather faux pas due to global warming!  We were talking about the weather at work and one of the 'old timers' was talking to a temp worker about the cooler weather and the rain at the time -the temp worker was originally from down South somewhere.  Apparently the temporary worker stated that he'd just as soon see rain all winter than snow.  Diane shook her head hard and almost in a motherly way said to him, "Oh, no!  I'm afraid after the Fall season we HAVE to have Sandy Season!"  I laughed.  Everyone knows I love snow and it's an honor to people refer to winter as "Sandy Season."

I have often wondered over the years why I always put up decorations for holidays.  No one ever said they appreciated them.  No one ever seemed to notice.  No one normally helps me do it.  It must be something genetic inside of me that forces me to decorate for holidays.  I can't stop myself, even as I have that small little chunk of brain saying, "Why do you do this?  Nobody cares!"  I recently put up my Halloween decorations inside, and again I wondered, "Why do I do this?  It's pretty and all, but I seem to be the only one who notices and cares..."

My daughter came home over the weekend for my son's birthday cake day, and the FIRST THING she said when she walked in the house was, "I love how you decorate, Mom.  I love the look and feel of it!  I want to decorate my dorm!  We need to go get decorations...I think I miss that most - home decorating at holiday time and the smells of a home cooked meal..."  FINALLY - VALIDATION that SOMEONE has noticed!  I almost cried.  

October 6, 2006 -  I am so glad it's Friday.  Oh so Glad.   Very Glad.  Did I mention I'm glad it's Friday?

My Aunt Trudy pointed out that I didn't post any Weight Watchers updates yesterday, but that was because I was in a hurry to post yesterday morning.  My husband lost 2 more pounds but my son found those!  I lost another 1.25 for a total of 20.5 pounds lost so far.  Last weekend was hard and I over did it twice - once on Friday (I ate pizza) and again on Sunday (birthday cake day) but still managed to lose a pound...amazing!  It doesn't show when you're as big as I am, except for the fact I can pull my underwear up to my boobs now... I can't believe how much I ate before.  It amazes me.  I ponder it and wonder - WHY?!!  I used to think that eating healthy cost more (and it does) but you eat less so it kind of works out.  I used to feel like cooking after coming home from work was a burden, but now it's a challenge to make a good meal for low points.  The flavors you can get from different spices!  It hasn't been bad at all except for the moments I run into the kitchen and stand there for half an hour going in circle and fighting with myself about eating something in mass quantities.   "I want to eat a LOT!"  "Oh no I don't!  Get a glass of water and go clean something instead!"  "I'd rather eat that whole box of cereal and two bags of chips than clean something, to be honest..."   "Really now - I can see my toes again while standing up, I don't want to consume anything in mass quantities right now, trust me..."  "Oh, but I do!  Seven or eight peanut butter and jelly sandwiches would be divine, don't I think?"  "Listen, me - I have told me before and I'll tell me again, WALK OUT OF THE KITCHEN NOW!  Go clean your son's ears!  Go clip the dog's nails!   Go do SOMETHING!!  ANYTHING!!  Walk away from the food NOW!"   "Pop Tarts!  I could eat four or eight Pop Tarts - just this once!   Then I'll be good, I promise!" "That's it, I've had it.  I'm out of control, Woman!  I'm calling the other side of the brain RIGHT NOW and ordering a massive diarrhea attack.  I'll get me out of this kitchen one way or another..."

My friend Reva who lives in Texas sent me my 'birthday box." I LOVE THOSE THINGS.  She puts in a bunch of things all wrapped up.  I got lovely lavender scented body lotion and two bars of homemade lavender soap, a cool kitchen towel, and a wicked awesome wooden picture frame.  (She had a picture of an ostrich in it, which made me laugh.  I am almost tempted to keep that picture in there!)  She also makes all her cards by hand, using stamps and the like.  Sigh with contentment.  I took a nice hot bath right after dinner to use my soap and then I used a lot of lotion and enjoyed smelling myself all night.  Thank you, Reva!  :)

Yesterday at work I had consumed almost a whole pot of the world's best coffee by myself.  (The world's best coffee, mind you, is 'White Heather' by Schuli's (sp?) - a butterscotch toffee flavor.   Or is it English toffee...)  Anyway, I drank a lot of it, and was buzzing around like a spastic bumble bee, harassing coworkers.  My coworker Shawn dared me to drink another - so I did.  DUH.  I have never been so hyped up as yesterday.   I would stand up and get dizzy.  I would pee and get dizzy, and after drinking that much coffee, I peed a lot.  I was ultra focused and got a LOT done.  I had music playing and I could remember the lyrics to everything.  I felt like the Tasmanian devil on the cartoon.  My boss walked into my office to mention one thing to me but I talked to him for half an hour before I realized what I was doing and finally shut up.  Hahaha.  Oh my.  Won't do that again anytime soon!  Right now I'm sitting here sipping on a cup of the hair of the dog that bit me...

October 11, 2006 - I left work tonight so mad, I had to write.   Sigh.  Normally it takes a lot to get my feathers ruffled as I am a firm believer in free speech and all, but there is a difference between free speech and just plain stupid. 

Two temporary workers were talking outside as I was outside dorking around waiting for several computers to finish their Windows upgrades.  The kids were my daughter's age.  One graduated with my daughter, I believe.  She was going on about how she couldn't take "this place" anymore.  Getting paid such a terrible wage of 8.45/hr via the temp service - "it wasn't worth all this crap!" she said, as if someone had just beaten her with large bag of coins.  The male standing with her was in total agreement.  I was frozen where I was, listening to these two.  "Why bother, in three months I'll just be laid off..." 

I must agree.   Jobs in Michigan for unskilled workers are hard to find.  "I could be working for ten hours and hour cleaning for twenty hours a week making just as much as I do here!" she proclaimed with disgust. 

(Um...$8.45 times 40 hours = $338.00, and after taxes, probably take home of $285.00 or so.  $10.00 times 20 = $200.00, so if it was 'under the table" and not taxed, sure she'd work less and have more free time, but she'd be making 89 dollars a week less as well, and if the cleaning job was taxed, she'd bring home approx. $171.00.)  But I digress...

Anyway, they went on for a bit, then the male talking to her was saying they might as well "work at Taco Bell for 8.45 than work here..." laughter, then "...I was helping the supervisor set a mold and got hurt.  My grandma says I should sue..."  I am not sure if he was referring to my work place or his former work place, but still ... If you get hurt on the job, you should report it AT THE TIME IT HAPPENS and go to the emergency room and GET A MANDATORY DRUG TEST which I know these two would not pass.  Good luck on your lawsuit, young man.  Hahaha.  I know where I work and if you are talking about my place...doubt very much you could get a dime even if we had it.  Smile.  

Then the lamenting about working second shift kicked in.  I almost crapped my pants over this.  My theory is if you can find work, WORK IT.  (I remember years and years of juggling shifts with my husband so one of us was always home with the kids because we couldn't afford a babysitter!)  Sigh.  I finally was able to move again after the urge to deck these two upside the head and lecture them to death passed.  I wanted to scream at them both - "I'm on first shift now in a computer department after working at this place since 1979!  I earned first shift and my position and I continue to earn it!.  I was a press operator for 8 years, and then shipping and receiving after that.  The computer job was a gift from higher powers, and I took it.  I quit college after three months in 1979 and got pregnant and married.  I worked HARD and many long hours to survive.  I knew back then nothing is handed to you on a silver platter.  I didn't expect it.  What is wrong with you two?  Good Lord!  Break a sweat and quit whining!" 

Oh my.  I guess I should let it go.  It just angered me so much.  You know what these kids must have heard growing up at home.  Sigh.  Idiots.

There, now I've written about it and will let it go.  I have raised my kids to know better than that.   Just ask my 26 year old son about working in an aluminum foundry during the summer.   He'll tell you it's damned hot, but he's lucky to have a job. 

It's supposed to SNOW tonight and tomorrow.  WOOT.  We all know Sandy loves snow.  I can't wait.   I know it won't stick, but hey -it's snow. 

My Birthday was wonderful.  My friends Grace and Dawn took me to dinner, and I ate and ate and laughed and laughed.  (Then the next day I weighed in at Weight Watchers and still lost 2.75 pounds!  A total of 23.5 now!  Amazing.  My husband has lost 26 so far.  I had to throw out two bricks of cheese we were not eating because it was not fat free cheese.  I found it growing new and exciting life forms in my bottom fridge drawer.  I also threw out the outdated normal salad dressings.)

Today I went for my yearly poke and prod doctor visit, and my yearly blood draw.  I have poke marks and bruises on both arms from attempts to draw blood.  I do not give up my blood easily.   Never have.  I am used to having them go through several attempts before striking a 'good' vein.  I try to comfort the nurses doing the draws by saying, "it's OK, nobody ever does it on the first six or seven tries..."   My doctor made nice comments about my weight loss.  I was happy that when I was laying there spread eagle that I could actually see her past my belly.  Hahaha.

Tomorrow my youngest gets his tonsils ripped out.  He is a bit nervous.  I don't blame him, but it will be over with quickly.  I have stocked up on liquids and ice pops and the like.   I have his favorite soups.  I expect he will bounce back quickly.  I wish I could ease his fears.  I try to act nonchalant about it, but still - it is my son and he is having surgery.  I took two vacation days so I could be with him. 

I signed up for Yahoo Radio.  I LOVE IT!  You rate what you like, and it 'learns' your tastes.  I have heard songs I've not heard in YEARS.  I just love it.  I can hear Barry Manilow, Judas Priest, Bad Company, Glenn Miller, The Pointer Sisters, a comedy bit from Monty Python, and then something Celtic.  I can't wait for the holiday music to kick in.  I fell in love with Natalie MacMaster.  She plays a mean Celtic fiddle.   I love her.  The group Solas is wonderful too.  Sometimes I forget to listen to music.  It's so important. 

Well, I guess I'm off to do something constructive and stare out the window looking for snow.  May the force be with you all.

October 14, 2006 - Well, I got my snow!  It's gone now, of course, but man did it come down hard!  I had a difficult time seeing to navigate in the car Thursday night when I was bringing my daughter home from campus.  I loved it.   I know that poor Buffalo got hit hard, as it always does being so close to Lake Erie. 

My son is doing OK after surgery.  He was in and out in 45 minutes.  Unreal!  He got to the surgery center at 8:45 and was home by 11:30!  As he was coming out of the anesthesia, he mumbled to me, "Gotta love these drugs..."  "Oh my!" I thought to myself, "He loved the gas at the dentist's office and now this comment - makes me sad they stopped the 'DARE' campaign in our schools!"  While he was still groggy, the doctor came by and told me what he couldn't do, etc.  "No trombone for 10 days!" the doctor ordered.  I could see my son smile wide upon hearing that, and I thought he was asleep! 

He is extremely sore, the poor booger.  We got him a white board to communicate with.  He did manage to eat some nice soft mac and cheese yesterday along with drinking lots of cool liquids.   Thursday night he slowly downed some pudding and popsicles.  He knows exactly when it's time for his next dose of pain medicine, to the minute. 

I am going to make him take a shower today and change his pajamas so he doesn't crust up on the couch.  As of this morning he is not using the white board anymore for one word responses, most of which are the word "NO" with the variant of "Ugh Uhh" at times with a mild head shake.  He has managed a few times to respond in farts, which makes us all break out in laughter.  He has to try very hard not to laugh at himself when he toots one off like that at an opportune time.  Right now he's asleep on the couch with Jake, who is laying beside him snoring loudly. 

All is merry and bright.

October 15, 2006 - My son is feeling quite poorly tonight - dizzy and all.  We were playing checkers and he suddenly took all of the checkers off the board and shoved them at me and laid down.  I took his temp - he has a normal temp.  I hope it's just the normal rehab of having one's tonsils ripped from one.  Sigh.  When I had my tonsils out, I puked blood for three days and laid in bed a week after that.  I know they do it much cleaner - less bleeding and all now - but the effect must still be the same.  Ouch.

When I got home today from going to see my Aunt for her Birthday then getting groceries, I was greeted by a yard full of goats.  Hahaha.  The neighbors extended their grazing fence back to the property lines.  I think the goats were just confused.  When the fence was not so far out, they got out and ate grass from the field but never came into the yard.  Now they are coming into the yard because the fence comes out further.  No matter what they do to that fence, the goats get out.  It is almost comical.

October 18, 2006 - I just got done watching 'Criminal Minds' on CBS with my son.  I love that show.  Contented sigh.  There used to be only one show where I wouldn't answer the phone if you called, and that was for new episodes of 'The Simpsons' - but now there are two...

Speaking of my son - he's doing much better now.  He went back to school and is slowly catching up.   His Dad has been kicking in doing some of his chores as I have been, so he has more time to do make up homework.  He is actually talking now and I am thrilled.  He sounds in 'pain' when he speaks, but he's speaking!  He ate a normal dinner with us tonight.  He can't play his trombone yet, but is going to watch his classmates practice with the high school band tomorrow. 

I got the dogs 'real' butcher bones tonight and you would have thought I dragged in the carcass of a wildebeest into a starving lion's den.  Lordy!  Animals get so possessive when they have 'real' body byproducts to chew on.

I had my blood draw on the 11th and they already got the results back by the 13th.  They called and wanted to see me about the outcome  Sigh.  Since I was taking my daughter to the docs anyway, I asked them if they could see me, too.  Seems my triglycerides levels are too high.  At least my cholesterol is lower this year.  (Weight Watchers has helped there at least!  I've lost a total of 25.75 pounds so far...)  I am upset however about my triglyceride level as I've been so good.  I guess if you are going to abuse your body for 20 years it's going to take longer than seven weeks to fix things, huh?  Can't make a temple out of a carnival booth overnight.  The doc put me on Triclor to help lower those levels and I will get another blood draw in six weeks.   Wish me luck!  I ended up getting new underwear finally as my old ones were coming up over my boobs I pulled up.  I didn't want to buy any clothes since I have such a long way to go weight loss wise, but the "mooning people at any given moment from underwear falling down" factor had grown too large while I was walking, and frankly - nobody is ready to see that yet...

I have not seen the goats since the yard raid on Sunday.  I hope I didn't offend them by chasing them down with a camera and all.  (Paparazzi is probably not tolerated in the goat world.   I am lucky one of them didn't come kick me.)

October 23, 2006 - Starting on Friday, I noticed a vibration in the floor and walls of the house.  It is a low hum, that goes in three short bursts and then a long one.  I have always been ultra sensitive to vibrations.  I worked as a press operator for eight years, and could tell when something was wrong with the press.   I am not sure if I'm feeling it or hearing it.  I tried to make the family 'hear' it all weekend, but they say I'm nuts.  I know I am not 'nuts' - something in the neighborhood is vibrating the ground.  Perhaps a new pump somewhere?  I sounds/feels like a cell phone set to vibrate.  I can 'hear/feel' it when I go outside, but I cannot tell what direction it's coming from.  I didn't 'hear/feel' it when I went to the store once I was down the road a bit, and forgot all about it until I got out of the car at my house, and could 'hear/feel' it again.  Sigh.  It was bugging me to the point of pacing until I finally decided that what ever it is - well, just IS and I should get over it.  If it's something at the farm behind us or at a neighbors, I will just deal with it.  I have lived next to train tracks long enough to know you eventually 'forget' the noises of a train and just rotate that sound into the natural order of your life, so I will have to do the same with the this particular noise and or vibration.  I made sure it wasn't in my house, so I feel 'safe' as far as the water pump or computers, etc - in my house.  I could post a sign at all the corners around the neighborhood asking that whoever is driving me nuts - would they be so kind as to stop.  The family still thinks I'm slightly insane, however.   Best to keep them on their toes.  (I am justified somewhat as the dogs 'hear' it as well at times - or at least acknowledge they hear something when I do.  That makes me feel much better.  They cock their heads and stare at the same walls I do and growl under their breath.  However, now that I ponder on it a bit, the dogs think hearing a squirrel scurry across the roof is the sign of the apocalypse...maybe I shouldn't feel so vindicated!)

My son has fully recovered (or so I assume, as he's sassing me again and acting all 13 years old like) from his tonsillectomy.  We go this morning to the surgeon for a recheck and then hopefully he'll say "All is good."  My son laments the fact he can't 'guzzle' things anymore, as they now will go up his nose when he tries.  I suggested drinking like a human, but of course that is a 46 year old telling a 13 year old what is proper so it obviously can't be true.  "I think it's from your adenoidectomy..."  I tell him.  (I just like saying 'adenoidectomy' so of course any time I can use the word, I do.)  I try to comfort him and tell him I had my adenoids out and I can guzzle stuff, so he will just have to get used to it in time.   He announced last night he was going trick or treating with some friends in a town further south of here.  This was out of the blue.  (The original plan has been all along that Mr. Youngest Son would trick or treat with sister and her boyfriend.)   I said, "No you are not!  I don't know that town nor that friend well enough..." (and then kicked into the preprogrammed motherly message that comes standard with my type 'Mom' model.)  I think he was expecting me to say "no" as he didn't whine too much, he just tried the tactic "...then I'm not going trick or treating.." and when that didn't bother me in the least bit and I mentioned he was too old to trick or treat anyway, he said "...OK, I'll go with my sister but I don't want the candy."  I told him that was fine - as two college students would probably welcome in extra food such as candy and he could split it between the two of them. 

Each kid has been so different so far in personality.  I try to approach my youngest with an open mind.   I try to see where he thinks he's going.  I can't base anything with this young one on previous experiences with the older two as nothing really applies this time around.  Sigh. 

It was spitting snow this morning when the puppies had to poop.  It was quite windy all weekend, and I was happy as it was almost like the November winds that take my leaves out back to the field.   I happily watched many leaves migrate to the east.  Later in the day, however, the wind had switched and all the leaves that were going east now were coming back. 

I have been investigating the art of pumpkin carving on line as my daughter's boyfriend's apartment complex has a contest going on.  (Win and it's 200 bucks off of your rent.)  I have stared at pumpkins at the store for two weeks now, trying to find the 'perfect' one.   I need to do a practice one first, however.  Just because I read about how to carve the perfect pumpkin doesn't mean I can carve the perfect pumpkin...

October 26, 2006 - It's 29 degrees outside.  There is frost on the pumpkins and car windows.  Burrrrr, baby it's cold outside.  Almost time to start wearing panty hose to work for warmth but frankly I hate panty hose.  They should be used as a facial mask during robberies only and not as a clothing item for women. 

Weight Watchers is going well!  I've lost 29 pounds so far.  Woot!  It just works.   Eating proper just works.  What a concept.  I will have to get some new clothes soon, but I'm putting it off as long as possible.  I hate shopping for clothes and shoes and shopping in general.  Shopping is only something I want to do perhaps twice a year and the urge last approximately sixteen minutes and passes.  I am an avid supporter of the Bill in Congress to allow togas and loin clothes as appropriate corporate casual attire. 

My son did the coolest thing they other night.  Motherly Sigh.  We were coming home from the store and he mentioned one of his friends was having trouble in school and getting some poor grades, and he told me this in a friend to friend type way - as if he wanted to tell me and needed to tell me.  After he told me, there was a bit of silence as I was thinking what I should say in response.  Of course, whenever anyone presents a mother with an opportunity to teach a lesson we grab it.  I made a loud sighing sound, and started to say, "Well, you know..." and my son stopped me with a raised hand.   "Mom, please...no lecture!  I know you want to give one, but I know what you are going to say and I understand all of it - and thanks and all, but PLEASE, no lecture!"  I burst out laughing.  He knew me all too well.   "Why are you laughing?" he asked.  "I just love you Dude.   I just love you is all..." I said.

October 29, 2006 - I had a grand Pumpkin Carving Experience this weekend...I don't think they turned out too shabby, but there is no way I could match some of those artists out there that can turn a pumpkin into the likeness of an actual human face.  Some of the pumpkin carvers out there are true ARTISTS.  I did have a hoot, however.  I just carved the first one with a pumpkin saw then used a dremel on a Garfield one.  I had never used a dremel, and this was a generic dremel with no power to it, bogging down a lot in the flesh of the pumpkin.  It was still fun, however - spraying pumpkin juice all over the place.  I was covered head to toe with pumpkin flesh and juice which crusted up quite nicely.  I had my reading glasses on for a bit, but then took them off when they were too covered with goo to see.  (Big Mistake!)  When I was done with Garfield, I cleaned up the kitchen walls and the floor and myself and got ready for bed.  I was telling my husband about the boggy dremel (good name for a rock band, by the way, as Dave Barry would say) and he said it was just a cheap one.  I woke up yesterday with eyes puffed out to New Jersey and stuff coming out of them I can't begin to describe to the general public.  I washed them out best I could and soaked them with a wash rag full of ice.  There was a box on the kitchen table but before I iced my eye balls I could read/see what was in it.  When I could finally focus again, there sat a new dremel set!  Not a cheap one, either.  My husband had gone during the night to Meijers and purchased a new high powered multi speed dremel.  I used that one on the pumpkin I carved last night.  What a hoot.  I can see why people get addicted to using pumpkins as an art medium.  More power means more flying debris, however - and it took longer to clean up the kitchen and myself, but at least I wore safety glasses last night and my eyes thanked me for it this morning!! 

My daughter spent the night last night because after the Western football game was over, she and her boyfriend hurried to our house to take her little bro to the local Haunted House.  They were the last ones through it - as they were running quite late.  At least they got to go through.  Since both of them were still in their marching band uniforms, she then took her little brother and boyfriend back to the dorm to get her clothes and change and get over night stuff, and they stopped and got two pumpkins on the way.  (One of which coated my kitchen in orange pumpkin flesh as I did the 'Screamer' pumpkin) and the other one she wanted to carve with her boyfriend.  I am silently wishing she forgets about that and leaves it here so I can go at that one with my new dremel.  I am addicted.  I have to have just one more pumpkin!  (I can quit anytime, I swear...)

My youngest son is upstairs doing homework (I think...I will make a surprise visit in a bit just to be sure because there are times he forgets he is supposed to be doing homework and plays his games) and then he has a ton of trombone practice to catch up on.  He claims Saturday is a 'day off' and he can't do homework on Saturday.  I let him have his day off but I drive him like a race car on Sunday.  My daughter is on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, sleeping, with all the animals piled on top of her.  My husband is snotting and coughing in bed right now as he has whatever is going around.  I just got done cleaning the toilet and the bathroom in general.  I also did the dishes and folded some laundry.  I see a million things I should do right now, such as dust because it's very sunny today and it highlights all the dust in this house in a florescent type way, but I think I'm just going to curl up in my chair and read until I can't see straight.

November 1, 2006 - November already.  Large loud sigh.  The dogs are perched on the couch protecting the world from the busy squirrels outside.   Feel safe, America.  No wild squirrels will attack you whilst sitting on my couch - no way!  There is frost on the car widows this morning.  Burrrr...

My daughter and her boyfriend and her best friend came and took my youngest to play Laser Tag instead of trick or treating.  I was so relieved.  I didn't want them to trick or treat.   They are too old, plus who needs candy in the house?  If it's in the house then logically it should go in my belly and frankly, Scarlet, it doesn't need to go there.   My youngest doesn't need it either with his braces and all.  He had so much more fun playing laser tag with his sis and friends. 

Weigh in at Weight Watchers was yesterday, and so far I've lost 32.5 pounds!  HURRAY!  I sure hope they can come up with enough people at work for another session through the holidays.   It makes it so much easier to stick with it when you know you are weighing yourself in front of a room full of people. They don't know what you weigh when you do weigh in - unless you are like me and blab it all over.  They are a grand herd of support though.  It sure helps that my son and husband are also being good about this.   My husband made a comment the other day about how there hasn't been that much garbage since they switched pick up days.  My youngest says, "That's because we don't eat anymore and have less garbage!!"  Hahaha.  We eat of course, but not in excess most of the time.  What a learning curve it's been for all of us.   Did you know you don't have to eat a whole box of chocolate just because it's there?  Seriously, you don't!  So Amazing!!

My oldest son has been working seven days a week and five days of those are 12 hour shifts.  I know he's getting tired of it.  I remember those days well and not too fondly, either, as I was raising kids at the time too.  I am grateful, however, that he is working.  Even if it doesn't go on after the first of the year, at least he's saving some money now.  

When the kids were out of the house last night, I stripped the place of all Halloween decorations and put up the Thanksgiving decorations.  I feel so sorry for Thanksgiving, decoration wise.   It gets so few days to be decorated for.  I love the turkeys.  My sister made me one at ceramics class one year for my birthday that look just like the little squat turkey candles that used to sit on my Mom's table during Thanksgiving when I was little.  I adore that thing.

Gobble.  Happy November!

November 5, 2006 - Snot Snot, Achoo.  Drool and Hack.   Sniffle then Puke...and that's all I have to say about that...

I believe the "Scream" pumpkin I did for the kids placed fourth.  I am not sure if they won anything, but I had fun.  The contest was for "most ORIGINAL" pumpkin, but the kids said the winners had done stuff like the college logos.  That is not original.  That is called copying.  I copied Garfield, they should have used that one.  I have also been trying to figure out how to use that dremel on snow men creations without electrocuting myself this winter.  You could do some awesome details on snow creations with that thing. 

When the men of the house were sick before I was sick, I thought to myself how cool it was that I didn't get sick.  I even stated this fact out loud in from of God and everyone that I wasn't sick.  So of course now I'm sick and I know the reason - I got too cocky.   Never say never and NEVER get cocky.  I made it through half a day at work on Friday then had to come home.  I walked in the door and threw up, then I crawled into bed and slept hard until five or so.  I got up, did some work online for just a few minutes and was just 'sick' the rest of the night.  Saturday was spent reading, sleeping, and in those moments where I was lucid I did laundry and dishes.   I know I'm sick because when I head to bed the last two days, I just FALL ASLEEP on the spot.  I normally don't do that.  Normally it takes at least an hour or more for my brain to tire itself out by running around like an idiot thinking of odd and strange things before it will finally let me sleep. 

I read the other day on line that Doogie Houser (Neil Patrick Harris) was gay.  Well, DUH.  Didn't we know this already?  I was not shocked to read that article for some reason, just like I wasn't shocked to read that Lance Bass from InStink was gay.  Good for them for finally admitting it publicly I guess, but then again they shouldn't have to battle rumors or admit anything in the first place.  They just are who they are.  It is my belief and you don't have to agree or disagree and email me comments on my belief as it's just that - MY BELIEF, that the majority of people drawn to the same sex in a romantic way are actually drawn to the same sex and there is nothing they can do about it.  It is just a fact, and they can't stop it.  Sometimes the brain develops a certain way and you can't preach or threaten a tendency out of it.  It's not their fault.  It just IS.  Oh, sure - there are people who get off on bisexual activities and the porn crap and all for the thrill and lust of it - but in real life some people are just who some people are, and that doesn't make them a bad person or evil or doomed to burn in hell.  That is what I think.  I don't feel the need to debate same sex marriages, either.  If they are in love, why not?  As my friend Jeff said on his blog when he was talking about things he could care less about in life (and I quote him here without his permission so he can pummel me later,) "Gay Marriage. I don't care. Seriously. Not one iota. If y'all want to be as miserable as us married folks, go right ahead. But just remember, gay marriage also means gay divorce. "

I guess I am rambling because I'm sick.  I just got a burst of energy and swept the bathroom and dusted off the ceiling fan.  Now I'm exhausted.  Viva Sickness!

November 6, 2006 - When I woke up this morning, the first thing I noticed was I was feeling a bit better, but I can tell for sure the sickness has taken sides - half is in my chest and half is in my sinus.  The lines have been drawn.  I expect an all out civil war by noon. Wear plastic covering if you walk into my office at work!

My daughter came home for just a bit yesterday as she and her brother were going to see her boyfriend's band play that night.  We had a delicious turkey goulash type meal I came up with for lupper, and then she and the boys did dishes.  I dozed in my lazyboy while they walked the dogs.   Since this is the month of Thanksgiving, I just wanted to express what I am thankful for MOST in my life beside breathing - my little munchkins.  How cool are my kids?  (Said in a stereotypical old Jewish woman type way where a question is more of a statement, really.)  My friend Vickie says it all the time, "How cool are your kids?"  I believe her 100%!  The fact they fell out of me will always amaze me on a daily basis.  If I could have preordered children from a catalog, I couldn't have done as well as I happened to do by accident.  Oh, sure - we were not the greatest parents for my poor oldest son.   He was our learning tool, the poor dude.  We grew up with him.  He's turned out quite well even with our bumbling intervention in his formative years.   We've had our share of issues and bad times, mind you.  I'm not saying my kids are perfect in any way, but they are darned wonderful kids.  I am so very proud of all of them.  They know the joy of music.  They have the gift of laughter.   They know how to respect and be respected.  Now, if I could just get them to ask for assistance when they are searching for something at the store...

I've had some odd dreams lately of myself and my girlfriends in our elder years.  One dream has been about myself and Vickie living together and being 'old' together, sitting on the porch rocking and yelling at the neighbor kids to get off the lawn.  "Hey, you kids get off our lawn!" "But Sandy, that one is so cute..." "OK, you kids get off our lawn, all except for little Fabio there..."  Then the other dream is about my other girlfriends, Dawn and Grace and Kathy and I - all running a mission downtown and serving meals and giving clothes to people and trying like heck to help them get a fresh start.  I have had a dream about Diane and myself running a women's self defense class during the day and then we are secret Older Ninja Chicks at night defending the downtrodden...  As odd as these dreams have been, I enjoy these dreams to no end and wake up thinking how thankful I am for all my friends.  I have so many wonderful friends in my life.  I have been lucky to meet so many kindred spirits during my time here on earth so far. 

Here I am, waxing poetic in a semi-sinus clogged daze when I should be getting ready for work

Have a good week.

November 10, 2006 - On Tuesday I took my son in to school early so he could safely transport his PVC piped version of a trombone for a school project.   Amazing what a little PVC pipe, duct tape, and a huge red funnel from Menards can do.  The dogs were terrified of the thing while it was in the living room.  (No doubt they had been tortured as puppies by some band of gypsy jazz musicians.)  They were very happy to see the PVC monstrosity leave their domain.  Since I was in town early anyway, I went and voted.  I was number 59 at the poles. I had printed out a practice ballot the night before so I knew exactly where my choices were so I could get in and out.  My biggest problem was staying in the lines when I marked my choice!   KINDERGARTEN ALL OVER AGAIN!

Now my son faces the REALLY hard part of the musical instrument project - sitting down and doing the research paper!  He has trouble with that sort of thing.  It's not that he cannot do it - he just doesn't WANT to do it.  Sigh.  This will be very interesting.

We have a corn field across the road that is getting harvested.  They worked until almost midnight last night I swear to get it done, and started at 5:30 a.m. It is supposed to rain tonight, so I imagine they do have a strict timeline.  The dogs have been freaked out by the harvesting process.  They want out so they can bark at the trucks and tractors, then want in so they can cower a while, then want out so they can bark some more... Duh.   They have also been having fits over the squirrel issue.  There are dozens of squirrels storing their food for winter in the yard, and I swear several of them flaunt themselves in the front window ON PURPOSE to piss the dogs off.  They sit just outside the front window, drinking coffee and eating bird seed while giving the dogs the squirrel version of the 'bird' in a nonchalant way. The dogs hang over the couch and prance around growling at these bold little creatures.  They are so close yet so unreachable for the puppies.  It's kind of funny.  Jake gets so excited he pushes all the couch cushions off on to the floor.  That will show those darned squirrels.  It's also nice cleaning up all the dog snot off the window on a daily basis.  Gives me something to look forward to.

Coming home from work Wednesday night was interesting.  Out of the first 15 cars I passed, I saw 14 people on cells phones.  Frankly, when I am going to and from anywhere, being on the cell phone is the last thing I want to do.  Normally (since I never get 'alone' time) I have the music up loud in the car and I'm "rocking out" as it were.  (Yes, children - 46 year old women can still "rock out.)  I like having a cell phone in case of an emergency type thing, but I have no urge to call and talk to anyone for the fun of it while driving.  This is Michigan, people.  THERE ARE SUICIDAL DEER OUT THERE!!  Cripes.  When I got onto more of a back road, I was pleased to see a gigantic cement truck coming at me at full speed, driving into the sun as it were, with a driver on a cell phone with NO SUNGLASSES - squinting and steering... Sigh.  I thought I was very lucky to reach home safely that night.

I have lost a total of 33.5 pounds on Weight Watchers.  It's getting harder.  The urge to consume in mass quantities is getting to be more and more of a problem.  I have to divert myself from the kitchen and read or clean.  I heated up a can of green beans the other night because I just wanted to eat ALL of SOMETHING.  Sigh.  My husband can use my scales now - he's lost 30 pounds.  I think my son has evened out the last two weeks, but he is still being good.  I panic a little thinking of the holidays - all that food, but then I have to remind myself that I am the one who MADE all that food!  I don't have to make it this year!  I just have to fix a nice healthy Turkey dinner!   It was almost a relief not to feel pressured to make pies and cookies enough to feed a small third world nation.  I asked my husband to tell his Mom NOT to buy the five pound box of candies she normally gives us at Christmas.  "BEG HER - NOT TO BUY IT!" I pleaded with him.  If it was in the house, it would be sucked up like so much liquid out of a glass with a super sized straw.  Celia and Vickie got me pretty clothes that fit me as a surprise for me, which was pretty cool.  I am proud to wear them thinking, "I couldn't have worn these six weeks ago!"  My main goal is to buy something with out an "X" of any kind on the tag.  :)

November 12, 2006 - From Dictionary.com "genocide   - noun – the deliberate and systematic extermination of a national, racial, political, or cultural group."   That word comes to mind the more I read and see about Iraq.   What we didn't inspire in the people by being there in the first place, they are now doing to themselves.  Isn't this the part where they say, "Hey, Kids - we can do this!  Let's get our poop in a group and agree to disagree!?  Let's show the world who Iraq really is!!  Rah!"  Life sure isn't like the movies, huh?  What a difference in mentality from one culture to another.  It bothers me but how do you help?  What can be done to help?  Would this have been like this if someone else took out Sadam?  Was this waiting in the wings all along?  Sigh.

Today is my daughter's concert.   I can't wait.  Should be nice and loud and cause our ears to bleed.   Excellent.  They are doing all their music from all their shows.   Awesome.

My cousin got a lot of snow, and I feel a little jealous.  Apparently the storm lost it's steam coming over Lake Michigan. 

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

OMG - the Concert was so wonderful!   The SOUND!  THE SOUND WAS SO AWESOME!  No sheet music - these kids memorize all those songs!  I cried like a baby the whole time I was so amazed.   There were times they all hit a note in just the most perfect way as a band that it made you shiver.  There are 250+ college students in WMU's band. 

I miss my little girl.   I miss her positive attitude.  I miss her smiles, her frowns, her ups, her downs.  (Didn't Professor Henry Higgins sing something like that about Eliza Doolittle?)   I am ever so proud of her.  Tonight (having a strong case of PMS which kicked in this afternoon) I have done nothing by cry and miss her since leaving the concert. I know why I'm crying and blubbering like a baby.  I just can't stop the process, however.  The boys were so quiet in the car on the way home from the concert, and I was so hopped up on happy and the loud music that it was a sharp let down when they were so quiet.  Sigh. 

November 13, 2006 - I feel much better this morning.  It's amazing what a night of sleep can do to help clear a troubled mind.  "Sleep on it" are three of the best words in the whole world if arranged in that particular order.   Whatever God programmed into the brain as part of the nightly clean up and organization of human thoughts, He nailed the process!  Kudos to Him.  I feel SO much better.  Oh, sure, I dream odd stuff all night in vivid technicolor with the grandeur of 'Gone with the Wind' type production, but something is going on in the background of the brain to pitch the crap my brain doesn't need and present situations in a more organized style the next morning.  Way cool.

If men are reading this and/or to the men who think it is a bunch of pooh pooh, PMS is a real 'thing' for us women to contend with - it happens.  I am a firm believer that women can overcome it by strong mental will power and industrial strength Pamprin (or a good nights sleep) but as you can see from my crying last night, sometimes it just over takes you and you have to give yourself up to it and just cry.  Hence the need for chick flicks.  A good cry can be the best remedy.  However, when females are in the state of PMS'ing, and assuming they are not in the extreme PMS mode of carrying weapons which classify them as 'armed and dangerous' then the crying part can take off on to tangents that we as females don't even understand.  An example of my thoughts from last night during my crying jag, and yes - it was one thought after another *BAM* as seen below without proper punctuation:

"I miss my baby girl so much...I wish I could call my Mom...I miss my Mom...I miss Sparky the dog...I miss my Aunt Vera...I always used to talk to Aunt Vera on Sunday nights...I miss having alone time...why does everyone take me for granted?..why does food have to taste so good?..I need a hug...Why isn't there anyone around who knows I need a hug without me asking for a hug?..how long has that gross stain been on my carpet?...those poor people in Iraq...those poor people all over the world!...people are going hungry tonight and I'm worried about eating more!...I am such a bad person...Why am I such a bad person?...Why can't I help everyone in the whole world?...How many spider webs can one woman allow to exist in her living room - I mean, come on!  LOOK AT ALL THOSE SPIDER WEBS!...I need to clean the spider webs...why doesn't my 13 year old do his homework without a fight?...Why can't I be 18 again knowing what I know now?...I wish I was rich so I could help my whole family...I wish I had a bigger house...I wish I remember where my car keys are...I want snow...snow will make everything all better...I forgot to buy Qtips at the store!...why am I so stupid?...What the hell are we having for supper tomorrow?...I'm so sick of fixing suppers...Why do humans have to eat, after all?...Where the hell is Osama anyway?...how can anyone hide for all this time in a cave?...I bet he's really pale by now...I bet we could get him just by using a strong spotlight at this point, just like the sun would affect a vampire...is it effect or affect?...why can't I ever remember how to use those two words?...Why is the English language so complicated?...I miss talking to a fellow female...I miss my baby girl so much..."

Ok, you get the idea - PMS can have that effect/affect on any female.  I guess I prefer the crying jags when they happen to that of going on a killing spree, but that is my personal preference.   You other women, Carry On.

November 15, 2006 - I do so enjoy the show Criminal Minds.   Contented sigh.  It's the only night of the week I stay up past nine p.m. anymore.  

I was making chili the other night for supper.  I had forced my husband out into the kitchen to listen to me babble on (about something I assumed was important at the time) while I made said chili.  I like a little bit of red pepper flakes in my chili for an extra kick, so while I'm yapping on and on I'm also shaking the red pepper flake jar over my chili.  The funny part here (in hindsight) was the fact there was no shaker top on that that container and I talk a lot with my hands in motion.  I had taken the lid off for some unknown reason way back who knows when.  I'm shaking and shaking and gabbing and gabbing and it's not until I go to stir the chili that I notice all the contents that were at one time in the jar were floating on top of my chili.  Many many red pepper flakes - just floating there.  My husband mistook my quiet pondering of the chili pot in front of me as the signal that the conversation had ended and took the opportunity to run to the living room.  I on the other had was just staring at the chili- trying to figure out how to save it.  I scooped up about a tablespoon of the flakes but much more remained and they were sinking slowly.  I finally just gave up trying to will them to jump out of the pot with my mental telepathic power, and stirred them in.

The chili was very good but it was also very hot.  It peeled a layer of skin off of our lips as we ate it.  We all ate it however, and liked it well enough.  We were all sweating like we had run a marathon when we were done.  I look back now and laugh, but at the time I was mortified.  Before I served it, I told the boys a flat out lie - that I had made it hot on purpose because we all have colds that are hanging on and this would surely help the snot situation.  It did at least do that - knock out snot in mass quantities.  I should have told the truth though...I should have told them I had attempted to kill us all by causing unnecessarily high internal temperatures that could possibly lead to spontaneous combustion without warning.

November 16, 2006 - Good Lord!  I do so hate going to a news page, ANY news page, and seeing Britney Spears boobs almost hanging out!  People are dying for freedom in Iraq and we care about Britney HOW??  Mind you I'm happy God blessed her with the ability to sing.  I am happy she has a nice frame on which to place her head.  She should be thankful for that.  BUT I DON'T CARE IF SHE'S GETTING A DIVORCE AND I DON'T CARE TO SEE HER CLEAVAGE FIRST THING IN THE MORNING.  Please, Media People - get a life!  Do your job and report on an event in an unbiased way without interjecting your opinions and quit trying to flame the 'stupid' in the American public and get Britney off front page.  Oh, and Britney - go home and play with the kids, OK?

This session of Weight Watchers is over.  I have lost a total of 36.5 pounds!  Amazing.  It wasn't that hard except for all those hours I spent trying not to be the poster child for gluttony.  My husband is down 44 pounds.  My oldest son has lost 15 pounds.   We rock!  (And we poop a lot.)  The next seven week session starts next week.  I think we'll have up to 18 people in that session.  HURRAY!  The more the merrier. We are a fun group to be in, and we spend a lot of time laughing.   Laughter is, at times, better than chocolate.

Leonid Shower Alert!!   From the Yahoo News page, "The annual Leonid meteor shower could produce a strong outburst this weekend for residents of the North America and Western Europe. "  I hope it is clear enough to see some!  I love watching stuff burn up in our atmosphere.   Might as well appreciate the atmosphere while we still have one, I always say!

November 20, 2006 - It was a productive weekend.  I like productive weekends.  They make you feel so - so productive! 

It started out with me scheduling a veterinarian visit for the Jake and Kia.  They need licenses soon and rabies shot updates.  When I was talking to Laura at the vets office, I also mentioned that the dogs have been so itchy lately.  "Sounds like they have fleas.  Did you check for fleas?"  Mind you, I am very paranoid about fleas since living through several outbreaks of the little critters over the years.  I checked and checked the animals the last few weeks with a flea comb.  I get anal about checking for fleas.  I told her with confidence, "No, I have been very vigilant about that.  They don't have fleas." 

After I hung up, I was staring at Kia chewing herself on the rear.  "Hmmmm...." I pondered, "That is a sure sign of fleas, after all..."  Kia had even cleared a spot of hair right above her tail from itching/chewing so much.  (Made me think of a beagle we had in the early 80s name Fred.  She was so allergic to fleas that she would literally go bald all over at the first sign of a flea.  Hairless beagles are not practical in Michigan winters.)  I stared for several minutes thinking, then got the flea comb again.  I plopped down on the floor and I went through her hair with a fine to comb as it were.  I did this for a long time.  Kia was gooving on the itching part so it made it easier for me to do the surveillance.  After several minutes of combing and parting hair and searching, I swear I saw movement on her skin for a flash second.  "Get me a bowl of hot soapy water!" I barked to my husband.  He jumped to do it.  He knows that look I get when I'm on a hunt and destroy mission for fleas.  My youngest son came downstairs and asked what I was doing.  "Leave her alone - she's finding fleas!" my husband said.   They both watched me as I combed and parted more hair ever so slowly, as if I was a riveting special on the Discovery Channel.  "Mom is good at this..." my husband muttered under his breath. 

Finally I found a tiny dark moving spot, and combed up and out and the comb went right into the soapy bowl of hot water.  There floating was a tiny flea.  "Ah Ha!" I proclaimed.   "Laura was right!  They do have fleas!"  I continued combing and combing Kia for a very long time.  I ended up finding two more small fleas on her.  Not adults, but teenagers at least.  Then I combed Jake.  I found two on his as well.  (The cats were outside or everyone in the house would have been combed at that point.  God may have made all creatures great and small, but not all of them are welcome in my house.)  The family stared into the bowl of water at the dead floating fleas as if I had shown them gold in a miner's shifting pan.   "Good catch, Mom!" my husband said, "Looks like you found them early!"  (It doesn't take much to entertain us here...)

Soon after that we were on the way to the store for Frontline.  That is the best stuff.  It sterilizes the little boogers, I believe.  No more babies for them!  I should have never stopped using it.  I should faithfully use it year round.  Sigh.  Lesson learned.

My husband and I also went to get ourselves a new fold out couch and two new Lazy Boy chairs.  (He got the couch, I bought the chairs.  Our Christmas present to each other this year.)   The fold out couch is for when my daughter is home from college.  She has been sleeping on an air mattress when she is home, but that can't be that comfortable.   I've said it before a million times, but I stress it here again that our house is SMALL and when one kid moves out and another moves back, that space is filled.  We had to find space for her to sleep.  Now we don't have to worry that she's sleeping on the floor!  I love the new couch and chairs.  I can't wait for them to get here.  Of course, now I have to steam clean the carpet so it will resemble the beige color it once was...wish me luck.  I have been telling people that the paw prints from the dogs were meant to be on the carpet - a special order design.

After we got those things, we drove down the street to another place that had bunk beds.  You will laugh.  Most do.  My husband and I got bunk beds.  We found a nice big sturdy oak set that has a full size bed on the bottom and a 'normal' sized bunk on top.   We had discussed this for quite some time.  Our house is small - and our bedroom has a huge queen sized bed in it that takes up most of the bedroom.  Since we haven't slept together anyway forever due to different shifts, we thought we'd get smaller beds so there would be more room in the bedroom to put the treadmill and get it out of the small living room.  "Laura and Rob Petrie had separate beds!" my husband said.  The idea of a bunk bed came at a later date when I was looking at stuff on line.  "What about bunk beds?" my husband said one night.  "Bunk beds?  For adults?" I laughed.  The more we looked, however, the more we found some that were pretty cool.  "I'll think about it..." I half heatedly said.  The thought of more room in the bedroom was nice, though. 

When we walked in to the Furniture Row Outlet store, I immediately saw what I wanted.  I lead us back to the corner to the bunk bed display and we tested it out.  (I was happy the sales guy didn't come over until we were done rolling around on the beds testing how sturdy they were.  I've yet to master the art of gracefully climbing up and down that ladder...)   We got the sturdy oak one, and ordered the deluxe mattresses to boot.  We have to wait three weeks for it, but the deed is done.

So, the weekend was productive to say the least.  I purchased all the things I will need to make a nice healthy low calorie Thanksgiving dinner.  We have new furniture on the way.  We have isolated the flea issue before it was out of hand.  I even had time to send out a family update letter to friends and family this weekend.  Plus, this is a three day work week!  HURRAY!  This old gal is very Thankful! : )

November 23, 2006 - I miss the old Thanksgiving parades from my youth (or as I remember them from my youth) - the parades that were parades and didn't include 8 hours of cutaways to Broadway show acts and dancers in skimpy outfits or dubbed performances by the latest pop artist.  Sigh.  Humans get their priorities screwed up a lot.  Sometimes humans are just plain confused.

Happy Thanksgiving.   I was pondering this morning about all the things I have to be thankful for.  There are so many.  Too many.  What right do I have to be so blessed?  

I am thankful that my parents were raised during the depression.  My Mom could make gravy from tear drops and cracker crumbs, I swear.  They learned to make due with next to nothing.   Their lessons did not fall on deaf ears.  I am so grateful I did not grow up expecting the world to hand me everything on a silver platter.  I am grateful that I know I have to earn what I have.  I am so grateful I can have nothing and be happy. I am thankful I have brought my kids up not to worry about material possessions.  

I am thankful for my obvious 'fault' of being so amazed by so many things.  Perhaps it is due to my naive gene being out of control.  What ever it is, I am thankful for it.  Colors still amaze me.  Humor at unexpected times amazes me.  Snowfall makes me cry with joy.   Marching bands and music fill me with such awe that I cry because the emotion I feel cannot be expressed any other way.  I am still floored by genuine acts of kindness.  When I see all my kids together laughing and talking, I am astounded.   Every day of my life has been a learning experience and not one day in my life has gone by that I was not spellbound by something.  For this fault in me, I am ever so thankful.

I am grateful for all the kindred people that have been in my life and will be in my heart and mind for ever.   I am blessed with wonderful friends and loving relationships.  I treasure the special sharing and hold them dear.  Those who are gone are not forgotten.   Those far away are sorely missed.

I have been crying off and on all morning while I made my pumpkin muffins and 'fake' pumpkin pie, thinking of all my blessings.  Now I'm off to make a low calorie potato salad and caramel apple salad and prepare for a low fat 'don't blow your gut out' Thanksgiving meal.  (My first attempt at this - wish me luck.)  Happy Thanksgiving.

November 27, 2006 - Something told me to look on line to see if my son needed lunch money or not.  God bless the schools with on line information nowadays.   Sigh.  They show grades and vital information such as what your kid buys at lunch time so you can yell at them for eating nothing but Ritz cheese crackers half the time, plus the balance in their account.  I just had an inkling I should check.   He was on the way out the door as I looked it up.  He had .45 cents in his account.  I quickly wrote a check and he said, "Oh Yeah!  I need lunch money, Mom!"  Smile. 

My first ever 'don't blow your gut out' Thanksgiving dinner went well.  The boys didn't count points that day, but I did.  (I went over, of course, but hey - I counted Weight Watcher points!)   I made a pumpkin pie that didn't have a crust and was only 450 calories for the whole pie.  It was fantastic!  You didn't miss the crust it was so good.  I am making that for all the get togethers coming up in December!!  Clean up after dinner was easy because nothing was fatty or greased on to the pans.  Wonderful.   We only had enough left overs for my husband to have another dinner later that night - so that was good too.  It was so nice having my daughter home and all the chicks in the nest as it were. 

My husband put in a new bathroom sink/vanity thingy over the weekend.  We needed one badly, as that was the original one that was in this house when we moved in back in 1985.  He put the new one in, and that left a three inch gap in painting from where the old one stood.  Of course, now I needed to paint the potty room!  Hurray!  Sigh.  I scraped down all of the Spongebob stuff I had on the walls and the Spongebob border around the top.  My back hates me this morning.  The bathroom is slowly losing it's Spongbob Squarepants theme, I fear.  The toilet seat cover is a lighthouse, the curtains are now of a lighthouse theme, the floor rugs are lighthouses, and now the border around the top of the bathroom is done in lighthouses.  I made my son bring home a lighthouse toothbrush holder last night when the kids went to see a movie.  I still need to get a lighthouse themed toilet brush and waste basket.  I am not that into lighthouses, but it just seemed the natural course for the change in the bathroom for some reason.  The transformation will be complete.  I'm not ditching all of my Spongebob stuff, however!!  Never!  I love that little guy.

The dogs were so happy to see my daughter this weekend.  Every time she went into the bathroom and came out of the bathroom or went upstairs and came back down stairs, they acted like she just walked in the door.  It was quite comical.  They piled on top of her while she slept.  (For some reason, she had a terrible back ache in the morning...we're not sure why.)  They were very upset when the boys came home without her on Sunday.   The Western Michigan Bronco football teams gets to go to some sore of bowl game, I hear.  (Thank you Jim for keeping this non-sports minded Mom updated!)  I am not sure which bowl game, but I think the band goes with them.  My daughter is excited.   I personally hope they just go to Ford Field in Detroit, but that is just a Mom's opinion...not necessarily that of the child.

November 29, 2006 - As of yesterday's weigh in with Weight Watchers, I've lost 41.5 pounds.  Seriously.  I don't see it on me yet except for the occasional new appearance of an indent here or there.  I feel it, but don't see it.  I am, however, hyper as all get out.  I think I hit a toxic pocket of something left over from the 70s.  Coffee or not - I spaz out a lot.  Energy up the wahzoo.  (Notice I am using high class medical terms here such as "spaz" and "wahzoo"... try to keep up.)

I got called back in to the docs.  They want to review my second blood test.  I am going this morning before going into work.  Sigh.  I hope she is calling me in to say, "Oh, My!  Your blood is most perfect.  I called you in to have you autograph your print out as I know with such perfect blood you will be famous soon!  We could charge thousands a pint for that stuff!  Your blood alone just solved world hunger and brought peace to the Middle East..."  Well, a girl can dream.

I have most of my Christmas shopping done now.  I am waiting to put up the Christmas tree until this weekend as my daughter wants to help.  I also need a space for the tree in the living room, which currently there is none.  Can't put up the tree until the bunk beds go up in the bedroom to free up space in there so we can move the treadmill in the the bedroom, the drawers from the bedroom and book case from bedroom will go out to the laundry room, the drawers in the laundry room will go out to the burn pile, and the little artificial Christmas tree will go in the spot where the treadmill was.  It's all very simple, really.  Every time we want to move something or get something new, we have to play 'small house twister' to make it fit.  I am not complaining. This little tiny cement brick piece of crap has kept us warm and dry for 23 years. 

I am working from home until it's time to go see the doctor.  Already I am having an issue with my General Electric mailbox for my EDI.  (EDI means 'electronic data interchange' in case you were wondering...but you probably weren't, but just in case you were...)  I called their support desk and talked to the nicest guy.  Any one who's that nice after working third shift deserves a raise.  Very polite he was.  Kudos to him. 

My youngest son ALWAYS forgets to put on deodorant.  I ALWAYS have to remind him before he leaves the house.   He ALWAYS says, "Oh, Yeah!  I forgot!"  I should let him go a few weeks without it.  That would teach him. When he is finally walking in a cloud of dust like Pig Pen from "Peanuts" then he'll know to put on deodorant.  I suggested yesterday he carry a spare container in his backpack.  He said, "Why bother?  You always remind me."  I am an underarm enabler.

November 30, 2006 - As I was waiting in the waiting room at the doctor's office, reading Nickelodeon magazine (which, by the way, has some awesome humor in it - these people did a great job) I noticed my legs were crossed.  I had crossed my legs without even thinking of it!  No strain, no grunting, no cut off circulation!!  Woot!!  I had to show everyone.  I'm am sure they thought I was on a bit on the daft side, being all excited about crossing my legs.   "Touched" is a good word and I'm sure they thought I was.  I didn't care.  I crossed my legs without thinking on it and it was marvelous.  I had to show the doctor first thing when she came in the room.  "Look what I can do!"  She was very proud of me.

I joked about getting called back for excellent blood work at the docs when I wrote yesterday morning, but in reality it turned out that IS why she called me in.  Oh, sure - my blood isn't famous nor worth thousands on the black market, but the blood work number themselves were marvelous. Triglyceride levels are down where they should be, cholesterol even lower than before...she was quite pleased. 

Since I was in there, I asked her why I was so hyper all the time as of late.  (For my family and friends that have known me all my life, you know I'm hyper to begin with.  Being a spastic, happy ball of hyper is a natural state of mind for me.  I'm a good kind of spaz, mind you, not the evil kind of spaz that is sought out during small island excursion by hunters or the kind featured in the movie 'Gremlins'...  My doctor also knows I am a spaz, so if I'm asking why I'm ultra hyper, she knows it's a valid question.  She explained to me that the belly fat that accumulates around the middle area - especially if there was a lot of it - becomes almost like it's own 'organ' in the body.  It produces it's own hormones and effects us mentally as well as physically.  In my mind, while she was describing this "thing" that happens when we develop large middles, I could only picture a large cartoon type googley eyed oblong creature that encircles the body and vies for dominance.  In my mind it has a lisp and sprays saliva when it says "P" words.  It's only advantage is it's size, so it can honestly sway how your mind works/feels.  Since my googley eyed creature is getting smaller, it's influence on my brain is going away (and this is the scary part) so now my brain can function as a brain should function again (like that is possible for ME...duh) hence the hyper, elated feeling all the time.  I was relieved.  I mentioned the "hitting a pocket of fat from the '70s" theory to her.  She laughed. 

Since all of the above took only a bit of time, I finally pulled out the big guns and asked her about the bulge in my belly button area.  I knew what she was going to say, but I had to ask.   Now that I have lost weight and can see areas visually lost to me for years, I've noticed a bulge from my navel area.  When I cough, it's a large hard mass underneath.   I know enough about internal stuff to know it was most likely my intestines trying to escape or a tumor or a large fur ball.  I can press at it and it was springs back so I figured it must be a hernia.  It was layered before in 40 more pounds of fat, I had not seen it until recently.

She poked at it for a while like I was the Pillsbury Dough Girl and said in a matter of fact way, "You have a umbilical hernia..." 

"Yeah, I figured I had a hernia."  Since middle school (thanks to Lisa C  and Jeanine H - who also introduced the word 'spaz' in to my vocabulary) I have loved the term "hernia' and I still use it often.  Now I'm proud to own one of my very own.  When I told my son last night, he laughed.  "Hernia..." he muttered as he shook his head.  It's just a funny word and works on so many levels.

The doctor took the time to explain a hernia and how it happens and what they can do to fix it.   "Since it's pliable, we'll wait until more weight is off, that way they can fix it with smaller incisions..."  It has to be fixed, though.  If it had been hard with pressure that would indicate the stuffing in me is trying to come out in the worst way and one good cough could cause an intestine riot.  As I was leaving I said to her, "We have to name my hernia!  How about Ralph?"  My doctor said, "No, I think Stella - the name Stella has been in my head for a while..."   So I am the proud parent of Stella, the umbilical hernia.  Please - no presents.

Stella and I went back to work.  I mentioned to my coworkers if they see me balled up on the floor clutching my abdomen screaming "Stella!" that they should probably call 911.  That would be a sure indicator that the intestines had broken free of their pen and were wondering the neighboring fields.

I have not done much research on hernia related matters yet on the internet, but will.  They can do hernia repairs in a multitude of ways, I know.  I would like to be informed when I take Stella in to have her put down. 

We are supposed to get some wintry weather.  In my joy of seeing that 'winter weather update' in my email mailbox, I forwarded it to Danny up north who is not too fond of snow and cold, but always tolerated it for my sake.  I had to rub it in.  I forwarded the message to a supplier we use up in Grand Rapids as well who hates snow.  I forwarded the email to my boss who drives two hours to work every day and two hours home every night.  Maybe I am an evil spaz?  Sigh.  These people don't email me updates on global warming, after all.  I'm sorry I got excited and rubbed it in.  I blame it on Stella, personally - she did it, not me.  (OK, I had to try.  We all know very well that it's belly fat that has a mind of its own, not hernias.)

December 8th Already! - My best friend Vickie mentioned I had not updated this thing in December yet, and when she said that I was thinking to myself, "Cripes, it's December already?"  Time flies when you're having fun or as I like to say, "Time flies when you just living in general and surviving yet hurtling towards the end of your days at the speed of light..."   Vickie had called to tell me she was thinking of me because she heard a song on the radio, and I knew right away what song that was.  (The Cars - "My Best Friend's Girlfriend")  I will have to tell you all someday how we came by that song and why it was so near and dear to us.  Good times...sigh...good times.

At the request of several people, I will put the recipe for that low calorie pumpkin pie here.  I can't give credit where credit is due as I'm not sure who came up with this wonderful treat, but I thank them nonetheless.  Seriously, you don't miss the crust, and if you accidentally binge and eat the whole thing, it's not many Weight Watchers points at all!

Pumpkin Pie

Mix together:

 1  - 16 ounce can of pumpkin

¾ cup granulated sweetener suitable for cooking (Like Splenda)

½ cup reduced fat biscuit mix

1 cup fat free evaporated milk

2 tbsp. fat free margarine (I used low calorie margarine…who ever heard of fat free margarine, anyway?  If it’s fat free, it should be an FDA law you can’t call it margarine!!)

3 egg whites

2 tsp. vanilla

1 tsp. each of cinnamon and molasses

½ tsp ground ginger

¼ tsp ground cloves

Bake in sprayed 10” pie plate for 50-55 min. @ 350 degrees.

6 points for the whole pie – 9 if you use the reduced calorie margarine and I highly suggest that…And it tastes divine with the fat free/sugar free whipped topping.

I am down 43.5 pounds so far.  Hurray.  My husband is down by 51 pounds.  I feel like all that food I have been consuming for years could have saved many small third world nations and I apologize to those nations.  What gluttons we were.  Sigh.   Food and what you use it for can span many types of mental things - depression, feelings of failure, false comfort...the list goes on and on.  It is kind of nice to savor food for the food value now and not just wolf it down for other reasons.  Now I just take out my feelings of depression and angst by poking the dogs with large sticks and feeding them peanut butter in mass quantities and putting tape on the cat's paws.   (Not really!!  Just kidding...all except for the tape thing...that is kind of funny on occasion.)

Speaking of tape and pets - when I was wrapping presents the other night, Kia got a blob of tape on her leg and for 15 minutes she kept backing up around the living room trying to get it.   It was very comical.  She finally got it off with no help from me.  I have never seen a dog 'backup' in circles before for so long.  I could almost hear that 'beep beep beep' sound like on a dump truck when they back up.  I love my dogs.   We took them to the vets last weekend and got their licenses and shots.  Jake weighs 71 pounds and Kia weighs 45 pounds.  Jake was such a baby when the doctor gave him his shots!  Kia took it like a man.  Jake bucked and knocked us all over and cried like a girly man.  They got their rabies tags and their license tags, and as my youngest likes to say - "They got bling now!" They jingle when they walk (which can be quite irritating at three in the morning and you wake up to find it wasn't Santa after all...)  The dogs love the new couch and the cats love the new bunk bed.   They know we purchased those things JUST for them!  Sleeping on bunk beds has not been terrible.  It's kind of neat, actually.  The first time I slept up top, all heck broke loose when the pets couldn't 'find' me.  Kind of comical.  The whining and barking that went on for hours was pleasant. (Not.)

The tree is up in the living room.  The cats have been pooping shards of tinsel for a week now.  Very festive.  The poor little pine bush out front is covered in tons of lights.  I do that every year.  I cover that poor thing with so many lights that if God turns out to be a pine tree, I'm in deep doo doo.  I love the nice orderly, strategically placed lights that people put out, but that's not ME.  I go for the chaotic "crap" effect.  If I ever get a 'real' house that wasn't a garage in a former life, I will decorate proper.  Until then, the bush gets it.   I've tried to kill that pine bush for 23 years by choking it with Christmas lights, but it won't die.  We neglect that pine bush in the summer and it thrives.  The squirrels use it as a launching pad and it grows taller.  The birds poop on it constantly and it turns greener.  It's like the 6 million dollar pathetic pine bush, I swear.

I can't wait for my daughter to come home for the holidays next Friday!  Hurray!!   I will have backup once again in this male dominated house.  There will be two of us now NOT peeing down the front of the toilet!  Woot!!  She came to my son's Christmas concert on Tuesday night with her friend David. (Thank you Dave for bringing her down!)  They came over afterwards and chatted until 11 or so when I kicked them out because I'm old and tired at 11 p.m. now.  It was so FUN talking with them.  I laughed and laughed.  Laughter is a good thing.  I love those kids.  (I said kids -they are not kids anymore.  It was liking talking to two dear old adult friends...except the stories my daughter and I threw back in forth to see who could tell the worst tale of how we terrorized each other when she was younger...)

It has snowed some here, but not like over to the west where they've gotten tons of lake effect snow.  I like snow and wish we'd get more lake effect here, but it seems to stop at US 131 like there is an invisible barrier there.  Sigh.  At least it snowed some.  I hope it continues to do so until, oh - lets say April. 

Well, I'm off to conquer the world as I know it.  May your weekend be wonderful and your dreams full of wonderful things.  May your laundry wash itself and your dishes sparkle. 

P.S. - Stella say "Hi"

December 11, 2006 - Muffy found out that he can lay on top of presents under the tree, graze for tinsel, and be safe from dog attacks, all in one.  Not too shabby for an old cat.

I bought myself a new mop several weeks ago, but had yet to use it.  I got rambunctious yesterday, and decided to mop.  The first push of the thing and it broke at the head area.  Twelve bucks for a mop, and all I get is a broken mop head!!  I ended up finishing the project on hands and knees, which is how God intended us to mop ANYWAY, right?  Sigh.  I got to see a lot more dirt that needed cleaning being down on the floor, so the sides of the stove and cupboards got a once over as well.  I can't even begin to describe what is under the stove...best we not think of that. 

We didn't get the mail on Saturday, so my son hauled it in yesterday.  There was a progress report in there from school and I had a massive coronary after seeing his English grade.  (Not really.  I joke.  I just crapped my pants in shock - didn't have a heart attack.)  He is getting an 'F' so far.  "Mom, there are only two grades for the progress report!" he argued,  "One work sheet, and one test!"  I know he had mentioned he had failed a test earlier this week, but I thought he was just spewing forth angst and it wasn't TRUE.  I really should listen better.  "You know I don't allow 'F's' my son..." I said in as calm of a voice as I could muster, "...bring me your PSP."  He is grounded from staying after school until his grade can come back up and he lost his PSP video game thingy until then as well.  He is so mad at me.  "Mom, EVERYONE failed that test!"  He forced me, I swear, to use the statement, "So if everyone jumped off a cliff to their deaths, WOULD YOU?"  Sigh.  I emailed his teacher, and hopefully he will be able to do some extra credit.  My youngest son is far from stupid - he's just LAZY, and this is just not acceptable.  Had this been one of the dogs taking the test, I would understand.  (Heck, it's hard enough to hold a pencil let alone learn English when you are a dog, but when you are an intelligent teenager -   it should never happen.)  Until he brings his grade up he will continue to be mad at me for something he had the power to change...tis the lot of a parent, no? 

I suppose I will get ready for work, not sure why, it's something about getting a paycheck that I like I guess. 

December 13, 2006 - Man, after studying with my son last night, I realize I have forgotten EVERYTHING I knew about proper grammar!   Cripes!  My punctuation sucks and I tend to run on a bit in my sentences even though the sentences make complete sense and all there comes a time when one should end the one sentence and start a new sentence so the reader doesn't pass out from reading and reading with no break in sight for a whole paragraph because the darned thing just keeps going and going and going...

The study session did go well, however, and I mentioned to my youngest that the only thing parents are here for is supporting their kids by working and feeding them once in a while and HELPING THEM STUDY FOR EXAMS.  (That last statement is null and void after the age of 16 or when I no longer know more than you.)  The main idea of our little pow-wow was to stress the fact we are here for him.  "I just didn't understand it, Mom!" he said.  "Then why didn't you ask for help?" I questioned.  "Mehhh...." was his well thought out response, which made me wonder how he could have gotten an 'F' when he is so eloquent in the English language in the first place! 

I am down 45.5 pounds.  It is starting to come off more slowly now, but that is OK.   I didn't join Weight Watchers with any goal in mind.  Slow is good.  My husband (I think) stayed steady this week, or lost a pound.  (Not enough coffee in my system to kick in the memory functions.)  Now my issue is that I see how FAT I AM when before I could care less.  Weird.  I don't want to go all Karen Carpenter or anything - it's just now I'm aware of my body.  I found my hernia, Stella, after all - by losing weight.  New friends!  Now I just want to be able to buy from the normal racks at the normal cheap stores without commissioning someone to build me special tarp sized clothing.  Now I just want to look in the mirror and not see those bulges.  Those bulges didn't bother me 16 weeks ago, why do they bother me now?   This is a curious emotion that I need to explore.  I can't wait to post "before" and "after" pictures for you.  I won't yet, because it's not "after" enough for me.  I am sure once Stella has been corralled and in her place that the bulge in my tummy won't be so pronounced.  I am sure no matter what size I am, I will always just be 'me' as that is all I know.  I could look like Pamela Anderson and still be who I am today.  I could look like Grandma Moses and still be 'me' today.  I think Popeye said it best..."I ams who I ams" (he didn't study for his grammar test, either.)

THERE IS NO SNOW.  I am so depressed about that.  It's raining instead.  Sigh.   Monday when it was bright and sunny and everyone was so bright and sunny at work, I was in a funk that would have sunk the Titanic.  Most people at work knew what was wrong with me.  This time of year, I like the skies to be dark and blowing and drifting snow all over the place.  When it's sunny and bright in December, Sandy is dark and quiet.  How you people in the southern states do it is beyond me.   Someone told me the other day that something wonderful must have happened to me involving snow in my past to make me love snow so much.  I have tried to recollect all my memories of snow from the past 46 years.  Let's see...there was that time I lost my boot in the 12 foot drift...the time my Dad carried me up the drive way like a sack of potatoes because he got stuck at the bottom of the drive way...the power outages from ice on the lines...the crying from the fact I was out too long and my fingers were nearly frozen when I came in...being separated from friends during blizzards...snowballs from my brother directly into my ear canals...lack of water because lines froze (huh, Vickie?)...getting stuck in drifts and freezing while waiting for help...almost dying in front of Dawn's house from spinning out on ice...I could go on with these wonderful snow memories. So I'm not sure why I love snow.  Go figure.  Of course there was that one time where I played all day in the pine trees because the ice and snow had created a sort of sparkling dome type castle just for me...and the years when I was small I could actually walk on top of the crusted snow like the queen I was...the beauty of the snow as it falls through street lights...the warm feeling you get when drinking hot cocoa while watching it snow...that time at Nancy's hot tub when it was snowing but the hot tub was so hot...the snow ball fights with friends where the snowballs didn't land in my ears...the snow globe effect the world can take on during a good snowfall...the snowmen I created artfully in the yards over years complete with colors by using up all of my Mom's food coloring...the snow tunnels and forts...

Good times.  Love snow.  Want snow.  Let it snow.  Ug.  Not good grammar.  Ug.

Did you know that spell checker wants to change "Splenda" to the word "spleen"...something to think about.

December 17, 2006 - I just read back through all of my December entries stored in this blog and the pattern of 'no snow in December' has been prominent for a long time.  I wonder why I'm so depressed for the lack of it now;  it should not be such a shock to me.  Seems the last good snowfall in December was in 2000.  Sigh.  I have been down and depressed for a while now because I want it DARK and COLD and SNOWING. This is not natural for a normal human.  Humans are supposed to be bright and sunny when the weather is bright and sunny.  This human gets grumpy and sad.  "It ain't natural. The girl just ain't right."  (But we knew that, didn't we?) 

I did copy and paste all the stories of the kids from Christmas into a word document and printed it out for them to read. That was funny.  My youngest son said, "Man, was I really like that?"  I had to tell him he still is like that. Smile. The consistent thing from the writings and the present time is the "QUIT POKING MY BUTT" statement emitted by my daughter to my youngest son, or "QUIT LOOKING AT ME" statement, or the popular "QUIT TOUCHING MY FACE" blurb.  Some things never change.

My daughter is home for three weeks. The dogs are thrilled. They lay all over her in when she sleeps. (Now daughter's back is out of place and we are going to the chiropractor tonight to fix that.) The doggies are quite possessive of her.  Every time she goes out of the house and comes in, they act like they do when they haven't seen her for a month. 

Saturday was my husband's side of the family Christmas get together.  It was a hoot. We kept it lower fat for the food.  Lower fat/Lower sugar is fine but if you eat too much, it's still TOO MUCH.  Smile.  I stuck to my 'plan' while there, but when we came home, I went over my daily 'points' by eating the rest of the pumpkin (fake) pie and popcorn and then some lunch meat and then a ton of radishes and I belched and ate more.  I was fully aware I was compulsively eating but I allowed myself to do compulsively eat.  Technically, I went "nuts" and should have been stopped.   (Compared to the old days, I ate like a bird.)

December 18, 2006 - Ouch. Stella is NOT happy Sandy over ate this weekend.  I wonder why Stella didn't hurt so much when I was nigh on 50 pounds heavier?  I know exactly when I've gone over my allotted amount of 'points' as Stella rears her ugly bulging intestinal bag and screams, 'HEY, I'M IN HERE...BACK OFF WOMAN!"  I got on the scales this morning and it says I gained a pound.  Of course, the coffee has yet to kick in so the plumbing hasn't be primed yet...I can't wait to get Stella corralled.  The mere fact I now know officially I have a hernia makes it worse.  Whenever I cough now, I hold 'her' and I compare the size and feel of Stella to a small play toaster I had as a child.  She's sort of rectangular really.   She's like the goats in the field out back...sometimes they get out and wander about. 

Hernia's are boring subject matter.  Sorry.  I almost forgot to wake up my son this morning, writing about Stella!  She is so distracting.

My daughter brought her beta fish home from college with her.  His/her name is Ziti.  I call it Spittle for some odd reason. The beta looks miserable in the little fish bowl.  I made my daughter clean him the same day she came home, as Kia the dog was hot on the trail of something 'stinky' and Kia eventually zeroed in on Ziti.  It was kind of funny, but good to know Kia has a good sense of smell.  I have treated Ziti like a grandchild. I even put stuff around his little bowl for him to look at and take away some of the boring.  How do you entertain a poor little beta fish?  Any ideas - let me know.  I could drop some Legos in there for him to play with...I don't worry about my fish Wadsworth, as he has a 10 gallon tank and seems to entertain himself looking for food or just swimming around, but Ziti looks so lonely.  What is a Grandma to do?

My youngest son and I have been studying for his English grammar test retake this week.  He really wants his sanctions lifted, so he's been very helpful.  "It makes sense now..." he says a lot.  (Why he didn't ask for help prior to his 'F' is beyond me.)   With his sister home, I am hoping she can fine tune what I've started.  She has a way with 'teaching' others. 

Only one week until Christmas!  Where did this year go and will someone please give it back?

December 19, 2006 - My chiropractor says that people with umbilical hernia's have them all their life and often die with them so an umbilical hernia is no big deal and to quit my whining.  I agree with him. 

I might have posted this before, but I love this block quote from Bill Murray's movie "Scrooged."  I love the passion he puts into it as he says it. We caught the movie at just this part the other night. I bawled like a baby. So if I've quoted it before, I'm doing it again because it rocks. 

"...I'm not crazy.  It's Christmas Eve.  It's the one night when we all act a little nicer...we smile a little easier..we...share a little more.   For a couple of hours we are the people we always hoped we would be.  It's really a miracle because it happens every Christmas Eve, and if you waste that miracle - you're gonna burn for it.  I know.  You have to do something.  You have to take a chance and get involved.  There are people that don't have enough to eat and who are cold.  You can go and greet these people.  Take an old blanket out to them or make a sandwich and say, "Here."  I get it now. And if you give, then it can happen;  The miracle can happen to you.   Not just the poor and hungry;  Everybody's gotta have this miracle!  It can happen tonight for you all!  If you believe in this pure thing, the miracle will happen and you'll want it again tomorrow!  You won't say, "Christmas is once a year and it's a fraud."  It's not!  It can happen every day!  You've just got to want that feeling!  You'll want it every day!  It can happen to you!   I believe in it now.  I believe it's gonna happen to me now.  I'm ready for it...and it's great.  It's a good feeling.  It's better than I've felt in a long time...."

My daughter was kind enough to study with her younger brother last night for his grammar test retake this Thursday. He gave her such grief. He loves a good argument. He should be ready for that test, however!  I doubt he'll pursue a career in writing, but at least he will know how to make a passive verb into an action verb in the event he's abducted by English majors who are hopped up on acid and on a rampage.

December 20, 2006 - Ah, Weight Watchers. I love it. Total loss so far for Sandy is 46.5 pounds!  Man.   It just amazes me. All the fluffy fat is off now and I'm down to hard lard (as our WW leader says) so it's only coming off a pound a week or so, but THAT IS GOOD. Even after the dinner at Grandma's house last weekend, it still came off. Just amazing. Sigh in Awe.  

My grandson (or granddaughter) Ziti the Beta fish is not happy with my house.  It's too cold for him/her.  I didn't know this until I did the research on Beta fish last night. They are tropical, after all, and like their water between 75-85 degrees and would prefer to live in a nice shallow rice patty somewhere in Thailand.  I have a crappy old house with many drafts so the little guy (or girl) is lucky if it's 68 in there.  The poor dude (or dudette.)  I have left it's light on in hopes of heating him/her up a bit.   Ziti is in a tiny bowl, and I suggest last night we move Ziti into my 2.5 gallon bowl.  Everyone said to leave Ziti well enough alone so I just played with Ziti with a little mirror I have. (Maybe Ziti is a female as she didn't try to attack the other 'beta' in the mirror...something to ponder.) 

My daughter got her college semester grades off of the internet last night. Drum roll, please.  After all her hours of study and procrastinated projects and the crying and the no-sleep nights - she pulled of an 3.8 GPA!  She got an A in Pre-Calc, her most feared class.  I am so proud of her I could poop. I hope now she has more confidence in her ability to learn and go forward from here. For some reason, a good GPA makes it mentally easier to pay off those student loans...

I want snow and we are not going to get snow before Christmas.  I have complained to my daughter for hours about it. (She does want to be a psychologist so I thought to myself, "Give her a taste" and just whined.)  My mood as of late has been based entirely on the fact that there is NO snow.  I finally figured out that I should anticipate snow when it does come and enjoy the scraping of frost in the mornings for now and get over it.   (Large doses of Pamprin helped a lot, too!  Is there nothing Pamprin can't do?   I bet if I gave a bottle of Pamprin a dish towel, it would do dishes as well.)

December 21, 2006 - Ah, 'tis a Thursday to remember!  This Thursday will go down in the history books.  I am sure we'll all laugh about it at a much later date.  I don't want to laugh NOW because if I do I will have to pee, and there is no place to go but outside.  Worse things have happened after all to our family. Actually, in the big picture of things, this is quite minor.

My husband was going to conquer the stinky toilet today.  (The toilet became stinky/broken after being jarred while they ripped out our old septic tank and put in the new one.  Since then it's let fumes back up into the bathroom which would remind any passerby of a cabbage cook off contest.)  Hubby was going to replace the toilet because he knew the flange or something was broken and the wax ring was cracked or the like, but knowing that this is an old old house with nothing that is "proper" in it, he anticipated delays.   He notified the people that were home during the day today that the bathroom (our only one) would be off limits starting at noon.  "If you have to shower, do it NOW.  If you have to poop, do it NOW."  He gave the kids fair warning.

Nothing was done in this house that even resembles something in a "real" house because the people who built it just wanted it as a temporary housing until they built their 'real' house later on.  How this old garage carried on as a 'fake' house for so many years is beyond me.  Why we purchased it is beyond me.  I'm convinced we had our heads up our hind regions.

He's had to replace the toilet a few times over the last 21 years, so he knew he would have a difficult time, but he didn't anticipate the fun he was going to have this time around.  I doubt any one of us did.  The first toilet tank he purchased several days ago ended up being too big to fit into the small space our toilet goes.  He found this out after fighting to jury rig the flange area on the base of the toilet for several hours.  He left the first tank in our living room and went to get a second tank.  That tank did not fit the base nor come any where near anything he could fake fix.  So, he's went back AGAIN to exchange that tank for another tank.  The tank he brought home would have worked, had there not been a crack in the ceramic on the bottom of the tank.  He was up to swearing by now, mind you.  I guess all day he had done pretty good as far as language went as I got periodic updates on messaging from my daughter.  He is currently gone to take back the leaky bleep bleep tank to find another bleep bleep tank for this piece of bleep house.  He works third shift and has not slept today.  I imagine he's feeling it by now.  As he was getting ready to take the bleeping tank back, the washer was in a spin cycle out in the laundry room.  However, the hose that leads to the drain pipe had flown out of said pipe and was spraying water all over the laundry room in a festive manner.  To be honest, I am surprised he didn't have a stroke after that.  Smile.

The laundry room is flooded at this point and I will dry it up a little at a time as I wring out the rags and dry them off a bit in the dryer and repeat the process.  I have "Rudolph" on the TV and am just breathing in and breathing out.  This too shall pass.

December 22, 2006 - Ah, I have used the new toilet and it was good.   Praise be for the handymen of the nation who can jury rig ANYTHING.  The laundry room is drying out nicely.  At least it was on wash cycle spin so the laundry room floor got a good Tide type cleaning.  So far, the cabbage smell is gone with only an occasional whiff of it - I am assuming that is from the where it seeped into the floor.  I got down on hands and knees this morning to clean the floors with bleach.   That should help. 

My youngest son is getting sick plus he just did NOT want to go to school today in general.  It's his last day for two weeks so he should take some consolation in that.  I pity all school workers on the last day before Christmas break.  The kids must go nuts and hear approximately .2 percent of what any adult says.

My daughter is snoring on the fold out couch behind me.  You can tell she's a college kid for sure because she slept through my husband and I talking since 4:30 a.m., the dogs jumping up and down on her and laying on her and chewing rawhide bones on her, the cats licking her face, an accidental fart in her general direction from good old Mom, and the TV volume control getting out of hand enough to make me jump out of my seat.  She hasn't budged.   Only professional college students who live in dorms could do that!

December 30, 2006 - Since the replacement of the toilet from hell, my husband has taken it out/off and tried to fix a continued leaking issue several times.  I am convinced he could win a contest for toilet removal and replacement if they had it in the Olympics.  I think he's finally got it.  The final removal and attempted fix came at 10 p.m. on Christmas Eve.  He whipped it off and replaced the wax ring with a super sized wax ring.  He had to fix the flange again before that.  I shooed off my daughter's boyfriend Christmas Eve to protect him when the toilet was removed as I anticipated some choice words flying from the bathroom.   It went pretty well though.  As it stands at this time:  No cabbage smell -  No leaking.  I hope we go into the New Year in the same manner. 

We have fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon with gusto in the last week.  My husband has managed to LOSE weight by doing this, where I have gained a few pounds back.  I expected this.   I am not discouraged.  I didn't cook bad meals or buy bad food, but when the neighbor lady brought us home made cinnamon rolls  and fresh baked bread for our Christmas present I would honestly have to say that my husband, oldest son, and myself had half of it gone before she was out of our front yard.  (I think back now and it was like a bunch of starving hyenas finding an abandoned carcass.  It makes me laugh to remember the scene.)  I fixed a huge ham for Christmas and ate mass quantities of said ham.  The we had pizza last night and I didn't even write it down in my WW book.   I will be glad to get back to work and back on track.  Having 'food' hangovers hurt as much as when I drank a lot...

Christmas was nice.   My husband and youngest son were up at 5:30 and they let the rest of us sleep for a few minutes after that then woke us up by cranking up the Christmas music and screaming.   Christmas Eve was nice with my sister and her youngest and my daughter's boyfriend over.  (Of course, that was until the toilet event...)  All in all it was a wonderful Holiday.  Tomorrow we are off to see my daughter's boyfriend's band play at a bar on New Year's Eve.  We don't plan on staying until midnight as we will have my youngest son with us and just plan on going to eat dinner and listen for an hour or so to the band.  My oldest son and daughter will, of course, stay 'til midnight and beyond.   I don't like the idea of being out on the roads on New Year's Eve.  I believe this is the first time we will have gone anywhere on New Year's Eve in centuries and generations. 

Being the meddling 'grandmother' that I am, I moved Ziti the Beta Fish to my 2.5 gallon bowl while my daughter was out with her girlfriends.  I warmed the water first, and put in colorful marbles and a glass penguin for him to swim around.  My friend Dan suggested that they need something to hide behind or under because after all wouldn't you want to hide if there were giant human faces staring at you all the time?  I also attached those window cling type snowflakes to the back of the bowl.  Ziti was happy.  Ziti swam for the first time since he was at our house.  Ziti blew bubbles.  I also bought Ziti some new food with freeze dried tiny shrimp in it, and just picked out the shrimp for him.  I thought he would jump out of the bowl with joy.  He gobbled on those little dried shrimp like he was in seventh heaven.  I cleaned up his old little bowl and printed out a picture of a blue beta fish and put it in there just waiting to see if my daughter would notice Ziti had moved out. 

She was thrilled to see Ziti moving/swimming when she returned home.  Since she has had him he's just sort of laid on the bottom of his bowl.  Now Ziti was swimming and when you showed him a mirror, he would puff up and flare like a good male beta should.  (Ziti also puffs up when he sees my youngest son staring at him;  Why, I have no clue although I find him threatening sometimes as well so it's understandable.)  On Tuesday we got a new 16 gallon tank for Wadsworth so he could move into the living room and I could have the kitchen shelf back for my new food processor.  Wadworth was also thrilled with his new digs.  Now the cats have 'discovered' Wadsworth.  They watch him like they are watching television.  Hopefully that is as far as it goes...

The only thing missing this last week is SNOW.  Everyone I know is thrilled that there is NO snow.  I am the only one I know who is depressed because there is none.  Sigh.  Guess it's time to move to Colorado.

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