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Previous Years Babblings: |
Current 2010
babblings.... January 2, 2010 - A New Year! Happy New Year everyone! The kids were over and we played Uno and then watched music videos and watched the ball drop on "Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve" and my daughter said, "What is wrong with that poor man?" when they would have Dick Clark do a segment. "He had a stroke, honey..." we explained. "Oh, My - let him go home! He needs to sleep!" My oldest son said, "Put him back in his box!" Dick is looking rough, that's for sure. That is all of our fates eventually. At least Dick is still trying. We should all keep trying...that's the key. What was it that Dori the fish said in the movie 'Nemo'?? "Just keep swimming..." That is all we can do. We all just keep swimming!! The kids went home Friday night and tonight my husband is sleeping in his chair and my wee one went to the movies with friends. It's nice and quiet in Sandy's house. (Except for the dogs who are pacing and barking periodically - I assume that is because of the rebel deer that keep eating all my bird food out front.) I think the antibiotics the kind doctor gave me are finally working a little. I have not had a fever since New Year's Eve, or at least I don't think so. The snot is flowing freely - almost reaching self drowning proportions. I have a terrible headache, which I will assume is the sinus infection fighting back against the drugs. Fight the good fight, little pill. Tonight I made a pot of vegetable soup with LOTS of garlic in it, since that is nature's own form of antibiotic. I might stink, but I'll get better sooner! I talked to my Aunt Jean yesterday and she said, "There sure have been a lot of Sundays lately!" That made me laugh. That is what the long weekends feel like - a lot of Sundays. My wee one will not do well the first few days back to school next week, as he's changed his nights to days and days to nights. It will be interesting for a while. He turns 17 on January 5th. When did that happen? Sigh. I hope you all have a wonderful New Year. I hope 2010 brings more pleasant little times and less big bad times for us all. I hope we all see more sunrises that amaze us and sunsets that take our breath away this year. I hope the smells are richer and the sleep is sounder and the pain is less and the joy is more. I know the best we can hope for, however, is to make it through one day at a time - but it would be so nice if we all learned a little each day and smiled about something each day and shook our heads in amazement each day - one day at a time... January 6, 2010 -
My wee one turned 17 yesterday! (Kenny came over to have 'Taco Tuesday' with us and
we had a Birthday Cookie Out of all three children, he's been the most challenging to raise and herd in the general direction of adult hood. Plus, out of all three kids he knows every one of my 'buttons' (some I didn't even know I had) and delights in pushing them often and he uses that talent like a skilled, stealthy ninja. I can be drawn into a never ending argument with the boy about nothing and not realize he's playing me like a finely tuned instrument until some time has passed and he is grinning like a Cheshire cat... (I'm sure my Mom would be saying about now, "Paybacks are Heck, aren't they Sandy??!" because Mom would have never have said "Hell"...) He has been a challenge and a joy to say the
least. He rounds out Since he is the youngest he tends to think mainly of himself and we are trying to fix that. (Sure, wait until after the damage is done!!) He will come around. (First of all, he's male - and I'm not pickin' on the men here but they usually do think of themselves first - being as it's genetic and all and men can't help it.) Second of all - he was spoiled being the youngest and has come to expect too much all the time and give nothing most of the time... He's had his fun so now we are introducing 'real life' a little each day into his food and water supply so as not to shock him. It is raining right now and I will assume freezing on the snow and roads. (At least that is what I just told the wee one so he doesn't drive to school like an idiot. NOT driving like an idiot just makes good sense in any weather...) January 8, 2010 - We had some wet snow/rain/balls of ice the other day and it coated pretty much all surfaces. My son came home from school to announce that all the kids were parked off in a bunch towards the stadium as if they didn't know how to park without visible lines showing on the parking lot. He said in a very mature sounding voice, "High School kids can't do much without defined lines..." At that second I could see him there with a tweed jacket, a pipe, and a large book sitting in an over stuffed chair by a fireplace somewhere. There are moments when the boy has deep thoughts.
My wee one's car wouldn't start yesterday. He had stopped to get gas and couldn't start it after that. He had this issue before a few weeks ago, but a jump from a kind stranger helped him get going again and he and his Dad cleaned the cable connections when the boy got home. He called me as I was almost to the store after work and told me he was stranded. I skipped the store and drove over to get him. The men at the gas station were kind enough to help me push his car out of the way of the pumps. I hauled him home, we got his Dad and jumper cables, then we all came back and to jump his car (it took right off with a jump.) We decided to get the car home, go up and buy a new battery, and stop to get something to eat. Once the car was running we told him we'd follow him home. He left out one side of the gas station and I left out the other. When I went around and saw him ready to pull out on to the main road, I slowed down so he could do just that - pull out so I could follow him. Out pulled the car, I followed. Since I am thinking this whole time the car in front of us WAS my son's car, I kept commenting to my husband that one of his back lights were out. "No, both lights are working..." he replied. "No, there are only three, there should be four..." I said. "What have you been smokin' woman? His lights look fine to me..." I gave up. If my husband couldn't clearly see that the tail lights on the car in front of us was missing a light, then I felt bad for him and mumbled something related to him going to see the eye doctor. As we drove down the road to our house the car I thought was my son's kept driving past our house. I started honking the horn..."Where is the idiot boy going?!!" I shouted and laughed as I pulled in to our driveway. "Who? What?!!" my husband said, "He's pulling in right behind us!" His voice was filled with concerned by now, and I'm sure he thought I was having a seizure or the had gone over some mental edge. Apparently the car that pulled out in front of me on the main road by the gas station was a little red car, but NOT my SON'S CAR. (Cars are cars - I can't tell one little red car from another!!) My son had pulled out in back of us. All this time I thought the car leading the way was my son! Hahahahaa..... Oh, and it was suggested that I make an appointment at the eye doctor today... January 12, 2010 - The urge to roll around with abandon like a dog on the floor is strong this morning. I think we should all do that from time to time - just get down and roll around for no reason in particular. Stretch and roll. I will wait, however, for a back up spotter. Don't want to get down there and not be able to get back up... My friend Kathy and I are back on the Weight Watcher band wagon. We did very well on Monday morning weigh in. We both took a year off practically...not a good thing. I still have not had Stella the hernia fixed and she is beginning to piss me off, being all free roaming like she is, so it's time to get some fat out of the way so they can shove her back in. If I don't get some fat out of the way first, however, I have no clue where she would be shoved in to - since there is no room at the inn as it stands now... It has been cold and winter like. (Go figure, it's Michigan after all.) I like it. When I ran in to town last week for lunch, there was one blue patch of sky peeking through an otherwise dull gray sky. It looked out of place - almost like someone intentionally painted a big blue splotch on a cloud painting. I have always wondered why I like it dark and cloudy and snowy. I do not suffer from lack of sunlight depression like 99.9% of all humans do when it is wintertime. Snowy, dark weather tends to make me giddy. Ug. Being not normal is a curse sometimes. Although I have been very worried about various things, so maybe that is a form of winter depression? I worry about my daughter and college and money - I worry about work and people not knowing what I know and they need to know what I know - I worry that my 17 year old son will never wake up when I yell at him and get out of bed in the morning because he is a 17 year old boy... Last night I went to bed at 9:30 p.m. and last I looked at the clock it was 11:15 p.m. I was exhausted, but still couldn't fall asleep. I can't even remember what was in my head keeping me awake, but I couldn't sleep. Maybe it's because I have a filling coming up on Thursday, and we all know how much I adore going to the dentist... This has always perplexed me - why humans worry - and in particular why do humans choose certain times to worry over others? I know that the brain has to make us aware of circumstance around us to protect us. "Um, hey there lady - I would really start to worry about that cliff coming up that you are driving straight for at a high speed..." or "Errr, uh - I am pretty sure that if you don't chew that better my dear, you will probably choke to death..." The brain is paid well to force us to think things though and be cautious at times. However, some things we cannot control so why do we even bother being upset over it? Humans can drive themselves in to a pit of despair for no good reason other than the fact we, well - WORRY TOO MUCH. Much ado about nothing...Sigh. Oh well. We all fret and worry, so me fretting and worrying is no big whoop. It happens. I will just get down on the floor with the dogs and roll like an idiot - then all things will be better. January 16, 2010 - The warmer weather has melted and iced over the packed down snow paths in the dog pen. I have had countless minutes of fun watching the dogs go out to potty and slide around. Kia just now was trying to pee and was sliding down an incline as she did so...much humor for me. Humans can be so humor warped. I have the same issue when I see things/people fall down - even myself. Sometimes it makes me laugh hysterically to see someone fall. I am not a cruel person, mind you (ok, maybe a little when it comes to enjoying the site of large dogs sliding down a hill as they pee) but there are times when people fall that makes me bust a gut laughing. Sigh. I am not sure where this comes from. Perhaps it's just a primitive thing. Oh, I will help you if you fall and I will bandage your wounds and call 911, but I'm gonna laugh... I need to stop at my Aunt's house to help her fix her start bar on her PC. She has dragged it all over and now is having problems finding it. I tried to talk her through it over the phone, but it's hard to explain such things over the phone. Kudos to all the help desks around the world that can talk people through this sort of thing without actually being there. I have to have hands on to fix stuff. I would be lost at work in my IT area if I didn't have a way to tap in to people's machines and help them. January 19, 2010 - Work yesterday was overwhelming. I drove home in a dazed and confused state. When I got home, my youngest was sleeping so no chores were done and my husband was not home yet. In my state of daze, I started supper and yelled at my son to get his butt out of bed. (Primal scream therapy is not to be overlooked when one is dazed and confused.) I then let the dogs out to do their business and proceeded to shut the screen door on my my left hand index finger, taking a large chunk of skin off in the process. The pain was quite intense. It brought me out of my dazed state to say the least. I held pressure on the cut as I dealt with the pain. I have a high pain tolerance which comes from giving birth to working hard labor in a factory for years, but that intense finger pain was hard to over come last night for some reason. I was silent for a long time as I pushed the pain away with my mind. (Brains are marvelous tools if used correctly.) I ran cold water over the poor finger for the longest time to ease the pain. I couldn't talk. I was just, well - quiet and in dire pain. It hurt so much I was thinking I had broken the poor thing. That is a prime booger pickin' finger - I didn't want to lose her. Once my brain gave the all clear that the pain was ebbing, I could feel the numbness. Ouch. That's all I gots to say about that. Nothing is broken, I still have the majority of the use I had before, and I will make a valiant attempt not to run around in a dazed state from this point forward. I am getting older - shutting things in doors is no longer an option as limbs don't tend to grow back. After supper and the blood letting, I went to the Band Parents meeting. As I was driving home from the meeting I heard a song by Jim Croce ('You Don't Mess Around with Jim') and started crying!!! What the heck!? Not once have I ever considered that song to be emotional in any way (except for, of course, poor Jim - who got his butt kicked in the end by Slim) and there I was crying over it. Ug. Humans - go figure. When I got in the house, I got myself a glass of wine. (I had four points left on WW and decided to use it up in a small glass of wine - which was a mistake as I would have much rather had real food. I am not a wine fan but it was left over from Christmas so I thought - "Hey, why not?" Well, YOU DON'T LIKE WINE AND YOU REALLY WANTED CRACKERS is why not!!) I finished up some work on line that had to be done, then worked on an issue for the Band's website until 11 p.m. Finally got it all fixed. Learning never stops - even if you are minus a finger and crying over a song from the early 70s for no good reason and gagging on wine. Sleep eluded me last night for the longest time, although I feel much better this morning. My finger is fully functional again. I will wear a Spongebob Band-Aid to work to protect the area that is most damaged. I will embrace this day as it comes and not get dazed by what the day contains. I will remember to breathe and take one thing at a time, and I won't pull the mask on that old Lone Ranger and I won't mess around with Slim....... January 24, 2010 - It was a nice relaxing weekend. Saturday my husband had to work and my youngest was at a friends house, so I had the morning to myself. (Finally!) My daughter had asked on Friday to come over on Saturday morning, but I told her "No!" I was being quite selfish in wanting just a few hours of alone time. I did a little house work here and there on Saturday morning, took a shower, and then went in to get my hair cut and my roots colored. As Terri was cutting my bangs (that, by the way, had been driving me nuts all week yet I don't dare cut them myself because I can't cut hair to save my life) I started to cry. Then it finally hit me. I am crying because I am getting my hair cut?? I am so happy that I am getting my hair cut, I start to cry? HORMONES! I am nigh on 50, so it dawned on me this might be related to menopause. That made me laugh. The ladies in the shop totally understood. Being a girl has it's perks, but I can see there are some down sides as well...Once it had been established I was hormonal in some way or another, I felt surprisingly better. I remember my Mom's decent in to menopause and it wasn't pretty. The years I can remember from about age 3 on up, if something went wrong, Mom was on the floor in a heap crying. I assumed back then this was natural for a mother to come apart at the drop of a hat. I know now why she was acting that way but at the time...I had a Mom that DID cry over spilt milk. She would cry about a lot of things if my memory serves me correctly. My mother could have used estrogen therapy but back in the early 60s I doubt that was even considered. I am not afraid of menopause. It is going to happen. (As long as I know what is going on I will be fine. Viva being human!) So, I have my bangs cut - thank goodness - and my roots are colored but the color Terri did this time sort of made my hair darker and red...although I am not complaining, mind you. It doesn't look bad at all, and someone touched my hair. That is the key point - I love to have my hair played with. Terri could have colored it purple for all I care, as long as she touched it. That is the ultimate in relaxation for me. So if I have a hormonal fit and start crying over something stupid, just pet me on the head...it will calm me right down. January 25, 2010 - The temps go up to 41 degrees yesterday, so all the snow and layers of ice in the dog pen turned to mud and the layers and layers of dog crap that had been stealthily building there there reared their ugly heads. I spent a good deal of time yesterday afternoon raking and shoveling crap. What a load of crap! I try to keep up with the poop piles even when there is snow, but apparently there are some that make it past my watch. Once that was done and it was safe to navigate the dog pen once again, I took down the Christmas lights that were hanging on the dog fence. There was also fluffy puffs of white guts from a toy they ate a month or so ago that was all over the ground out there - I did NOT pick those up. I like snow, so I left the fluffy guts stay there as an illusion of sorts. I have to call the doctor today. Sigh. I made a deal with me bum that I would. Seems I'm having issues with hemorrhoids or something up in that general area and I promised my tush I'd call if things were not right by today. Things are still not right. Me bum has reminded me in no uncertain terms that I will call the doctor today. When it comes down to preference, I'm much rather cry over getting my bangs cut than have paparazzi snappin' pictures up my anal area, but whadya gonna do? As one ages, one must have maintenance work done, and since all of your body part's warranties are up, YOU have to pay for it all. Sigh. My Mom had colon cancer at one point in her life, so I suppose I will be good to my lower half and call the doc. Plus, I've only lost 5 pounds so far on WW, and I think it's because I have not 'moved' or done any walking or movement because I'm afraid I'd explode something out the rear - so getting this fixed will be a definite plus to my weight loss, not to mention the fun I'll have describing in detail all the doctor visits. (Oh, I can blame it on the rump, but in reality I've used ALL my extra points every week and then some...I have not been trying too hard...) The week doesn't look too jammed pack with any sort of excitement, but now that I've said that I'm sure something huge will happen. The wee one has exams this week so I will be pestering him to study. The boy never studies. It frustrates me beyond words that the wee one DOESN'T STUDY. He carries a A- to B- in his classes without STUDYING!! (Anything below a C and he loses the rights to his car...) I try to stress the fact he could be an A+ student if he only TRIED. He sees no need to try. (Boys are easier to raise than girls up until about the age of 13, then their "that makes complete sense" logic gene gets over taken by their stupid "Meh-too much work" gene and it's a battle all the way after that...) I mentioned on my Facebook status that the average service cycle of a dishwasher in my house is 18 years, then they tend to move out...I made myself laugh with that one. January 29, 2010 - I went in for a lower region inspection and tire rotation on Tuesday. Me bum is fine. All is well in Sandy's Bum Land. The doc made me laugh - after he started the finger pointing as it were, he said, "Well, we know it's not a fissure!" and I asked as causally as someone can with someone's finger up their bum, "How do you know?" and he said, "If it were a fissure, I'd be peeling you off the wall over there..." Apparently fissures are painful. He couldn't find any issue and we discussed a colonoscopy and the timing of one, but all in all - all is well. He prescribed pain relieving waxy insertions objects and since then, I must say, the pain has been less and less every day. Yesterday at work was a comedy of errors, I swear. It started out with a phone training session with a nice lady in Mexico (who had limited English skills comparable to my limited Spanish skills) that ended up being informative but it took forever to say the one thing we needed to hear and know. Ug. It's amazing how much you can convey with the words 'OK' and 'YES' ... There were times I did say 'YES' or 'OK' to things I wasn't quite sure she was saying so I hope I don't commit myself to anything like putting her kids through college or the like... Then I worked on a printer a customer had sent us (for the the soul purpose of printing some coupons for their products) and failed miserably. It worked at first, but when I left last night I kept getting errors on the ribbon feed. Of course, this fine printer probably cost 12.95 on eBay, and it has the loudest RIBBON OUT warning sound I've ever heard. Ug. I left it on my desk at work to play with today if I get a chance. I doubt I will...I hope I don't. Since it's end of the month, the singing beeping bleeping printer will have to wait its turn. The day was just crazy in general overall and I was doing the best I could to retain some sanity when I got a call from my wee one at home (half day of school due to exams so he was home early) and he said the wireless router at home was not working. I looked at the caller ID on my phone and made a 'Mom' face as if it was physically HIM standing there and said with a sigh after every word that there wasn't a whole lot I could do about that from work. I was, after all, AT WORK. I tried to stress that to him. He tried to explain all the things he had tried and I said 'OK' and 'YES' a lot. Finally I just told him, "You will have to wait 'til I get home, honey. It's end of the month!" Seventeen year olds don't comprehend the concept 'End Of The Month".... Then, my husband called. He never calls me at work unless it's to ask "what's for dinner?" or "My car broke down!" He was eating his lunch and wanted to talk. I know he wanted to talk, but I couldn't take the time right then. He tends to take a long time to get to a point of what he really wants to say so I finally told him I had to go, even though I know he wanted to talk about something... Then he called again at 4:48 p.m. from our driveway to announce he had his W2. He said it in his manly "I just killed a bison for for dinner" voice. Sigh. I told him I would talk to him when I got home but I wasn't doing taxes tonight.. I came home prepared to work on the home wireless router for hours. I did work on the router for hours, but the original problem my son was having was because the cable from the modem to the router had come out. Since I was prepared to clean things up and trace lines and all, I decided I was just going to do it anyway. I coiled wires, and swept behind things, and I taped stuff up and tacked stuff down. I redid all the electrical plugs so they were not twisted around each other like snakes in heat and then dusted off all the items that were dusty. My son still couldn't get a signal upstairs! After all that! I rebooted the router and checked all the IPs and ... long story short, I have no CLUE why he is having wireless access issues upstairs and by 9:30 p.m. I decided it could wait another day since I am sure doctors don't want to come home and perform surgery on small dogs and family members and high sea fishermen don't want to come home and clean the goldfish bowl either... January 31, 2010 - Did you see the full moon on Friday night!? How awesome was that? Wow. Just...wow. Even with the bitter cold, it was worth a half hour in the freezing weather to watch it rise. (I am, after all, self insulated.) I dragged my husband out to look, but he only stayed for 12 seconds and ran back in. I am the proud owner of a new battery. My car's battery decided it was a good time to call it quits. My husband got stranded in my car on Saturday night, but managed to get her to kick in and driver her home before I left to rescue him. After he got home, I went out and started her up and drove around a bit, and she was fine. I attributed the whole ordeal to the fact that my car resented another driver. However, this morning when I attempted to start the car up to go to the store, she spitted and sputtered and ceased to work. I made my husband take me up to get a new battery. When they tested my old battery, she was indeed in dire need of replacement. So, both Fords in our car harem needed new batteries this month. Odd. I wonder if each make/model takes turns? Besides the battery fun and the huge full moon, it was a non-eventful weekend. Well, I did get the router fixed... and my son bumped another car with his car on Saturday night, and didn't bother to tell me when he got home - he just left me a note in the middle of the night...but other than a new battery, the full moon, and a possible issue with him denting his friends car, it was non-eventful. Oh, and I made beef and noodles for Sunday supper along with Weight Watcher's cheese biscuits and my oldest son came over to partake with us. It was nice to see him. He will be back next weekend so I can do his taxes. I hope my daughter can come as well, and I can do her taxes. Getting taxes out of the way is a good thing. I e-filed ours last night. So, other than the full moon, getting our taxes done, fixing my wireless router issues, my new car battery, and my son playing bumper cars - it was a non-eventful weekend. I have taken a hot tub soak every night for days. I am running water as I type for another nice hot tub soak. All of my 'edges' ache like one would ache prior to coming down with the flu. I don't feel bad, mind you - just my 'edges' ache. (It makes sense in my head and really, isn't that all that matters.) Everyone has headed to bed and I will be basting myself in a nice hot bathtub full of Sandalwood bath salts here pretty soon. Not a bad way to bid January adieu...
He falls back on the normal standby of introducing images of water into my dream to try to wake me up enough to realize I'm one step away from self drowning if I don't wake up and go to the bathroom. Images of water just make the bladder alarm go off louder because when one is in a deep state of dreaming, they have no clue they should probably really move and go to the real bathroom when in fact they can dream move and go to the dream bathroom... Once the water images don't work, the geeky guys swears he is not losing this job over some bladder explosion, so he tries another approach - routing me (via my dream) into various bathrooms scenes so I will get the hint. When I still don't wake up, he tells Frank the night janitor, who has worked here for the last 49 years, to grab a taser out of the weapons room and go down to my bladder area. Frank was on lunch, mind you, but hey, it's a taser - so Frank roams down to the bladder area and shocks the soft tissue around it. The pain starts to bring me out of my dream and I am beginning to comprehend that I have very little time to get to a real toilet . (Hmmmmm, now that I ponder it, I think it's Frank's maniacal laughter from the sheer joy of using a taser on someone that actually wakes me up and not the need to urinate... ) Anyway, I digress, but I do so admire the brain... February 8, 2010 - I have been on vacation since last Friday. It feels nice. I have not logged in to nor worried about work since Thursday night. A first for me, I believe. Friday was spent with my sister, cleaning my Aunt's apartment. It's always fun to clean for my Aunt and Uncle because they have such cool stories to tell. After we were done there, we ran up to Wal-Mart and got a few things. All in all, it was a productive day. My wee one had pep band on Friday night for the basket ball game, so my husband and I went out to dinner for a 'date' night.
He was in a trombone quartet. They had practiced maybe three times. He said at one point last week that they weren't going to do it. I was disappointed that he wasn't going to try. Apparently at the last minute they decided that they were going to do it after all, so the whole family went in support. We practiced our "Gee, honey - it's the trying that counts" and "next time you will all practice harder and longer and do better" condolence speeches in the car prior to getting to the school because we were convinced they would SUCK. Plus, and I'm not that proud to admit it, we were all kind of hoping they would do poorly. Why, you ask? Because my wee one tends to get by on his charm and good looks...he tends to just breeze through things without putting forth much effort if ANY effort. The carload of us were convinced THIS WOULD BE THE TIME he would get the wind knocked out of his sails and reality would slap him upside the face. This whole experience would be a humbling time for the wee one, we all concluded in a loving yet I-hope-he-learns-a-lesson sort of way. We found the quartet in the practice room looking very nervous. When it was time for them to play, we all filed in with many other people into the performance classroom. (Friends and other family members packed the place.) When the nice lady announced them, she said, "This is the Wells-Schmidt quartet and half of Vicksburg." That made us laugh. Now, when they played, they did OK. Not stellar. Not drop dead amazing. They did just OK. Better than we had thought they would do since they had not put a lot of time nor effort into it, but not as bad as we had assumed it would be. I tended to glance at the face of my daughter and son, both ex-trombone players, to judge how this performance is going, although over all I didn't need to watch their faces to know that one of the kids up there was way out of tune, and they were making up new notes here and there that I had never heard before nor knew existed. After the performance, the judge said that trombone quartets were her favorite. She pointed out several measures where they missed the mark completely and several measures where they nailed it. She noted that they were off on some notes, but assumed it was the nerves. She also said they play well enough that they should pick something more technical for State (my head jerked up, did she just say STATE?) and she gave them other pointers, such as not verbally counting off before starting, a better way to stand, etc. We all filed out of the room and I said as loudly as I dared, "They had a kind and generous judge today..." which was very true. As we waited for the runner to bring the ratings, we prepped them for a #3 rating, although maybe, just MAYBE a #2 (since the judge raved about them so much.) I was convinced a #2 because there were so many of us in that room, I'm sure she would pad it a bit. The runner came. She mentioned they timed at 2 minutes and four seconds. (The piece has to be at least two minutes.) She handed them the ratings slip. Robbie looked at it and practically yelled, "We got a ONE!" We were dumbfounded. Seriously. We were shocked. A #1 rating? My daughter and oldest son and husband and my daughter's boyfriend all exchanged shocked and raised Spock-like eyebrowed looks. "Are you sure you read it right?" I asked. The quartet was joyous. They were thrilled. We followed them down to the medal table in the lobby, and the whole time I'm shaking my head repeating, "Are you SURE you read that right? Shouldn't you check it again?" Our band director was the medal "hander outter" up front, and Robbie showed him the slip of paper and the director's eyes got very wide, just like our eyes did when we first heard the rating. "OK, then... he said, and passed out the blue #1 ratings medals. I still can't believe the got a #1 rating. Now they get to go on to State Solo and Ensemble. We kindly mentioned they could not get by playing something like they played here...we tried to give encouraging advice in a constructive way, but they were just happy and I'm sure they were not listening. I hugged them all and then we headed up to have pizza to celebrate. We were all in shock, to say the least. This whole 'humbling' lesson went horribly wrong...the humbling was on the other foot... Saturday night was spent doing my daughter's taxes and my oldest son's taxes. That is out of the way for one more year. I did our taxes last weekend. How and why people do taxes for a living eludes me... This morning I was folding laundry and was quite pissed off - the whole inside of the dryer was coated in sticky gum blobs smeared like an explosion at a Wrigley's factory. "I'm gonna kill the boy..." I mumbled to my husband, who has the day off today as well. I showed him the inside of the dryer. I pondered how I was going to get that goo out. "Make him do it!" my husband suggested. "I just might!" I snapped, seething like a good Mom should when one of her offspring does something stupid. I left the goo and gunk for later, took my shower, and as I was getting dressed I felt a lump my jean's pocket. (Mind you, those jeans had been in the goo load I just folded.) I pulled out said lump from my pocket, which turned out to be the remains of some type of pack of gum. The gum goo was NOT from my son's pants after all, IT WAS FROM MY PANTS!!! I remembered shoving gum in my pocket at one point on Saturday...it took me a good half hour to finally admit this to my husband, who had a wonderful time laughing at me. I deserved the ridicule, so it was OK. We went to breakfast with my Mom-in-law and my sisters-in-law and my daughter, and had a marvelous time. Then I came home and spent a good hour cleaning up the mess I had made in the dryer. I had stopped at the store to get "Goo be Gone" or the like to assist me in my clean up effort. My husband would pop his head out into the laundry room from time to time to see how I was doing and to be sure the fumes from the "Goo Gone" had not killed me yet. "It would have taken a lot less time had I checked my pockets before I did wash..." I muttered. I thoroughly frisked all laundry before doing another load this afternoon... Tonight we are having chicken
chili for supper. They predict lots of snow for us starting tomorrow into Wednesday,
which instantly inspires me to make chili for some reason. Tomorrow is back to work.
I look forward to it. After several days off and all this humbling going on
and the whole goo removal thing, I need work to take my mind off of life...
February 11, 2010 - I have been the "live" version of the 'Maxine' cartoon since Tuesday. The only thing missing is the bunny slippers and small dog sidekick. Really, it's not been pretty. I pity those around me having to deal with this whole "I DON'T CARE, YOU SMARMY BASTARD" attitude of mine. It will pass, but in the mean time - please avoid me at all costs. Tonight I am dipping pretzels into white chocolate for a potluck tomorrow at work. I suggested a finger food type Valentine celebration, because I love LOVE and Valentine's Day and all. I love the stupid little hearts and flowers and the whole concept of LOVE. I'm a sucker for LOVE and finger foods...OK, mainly the finger foods. But still, I've always loved Valentine's Day. Maybe in my Maxine type mood, however, it will not be as pleasant as I had hoped. I'll end up beating someone with a dipped pretzel. Yesterday would have been my Mom's 89 Birthday. Happy Birthday, Mom. I miss her tons sometimes. The urge to call her every night is not as strong as it used to be, but I still think of her on a daily basis. Sometimes I 'see' her as I'm drifting off to sleep and will actually call out to her. Sigh. Usually we have an ice storm for her Birthday, weather wise. I believe I remember several Aunts saying that "...there is always ice on Bettie's birthday!..." February 12, 2010 - Yesterday my mouth would not stop. I felt the urge to share with EVERY ONE. However, this should not be done when one is in a 'Maxine' type mood. You shouldn't just share every thought that oozes out of the corners of your brain just because you can. I am fortunate the people around me don't carry loaded weapons... It should be required by law for people like me to have their mouths duct taped shut on 'Maxine' days... Last night the wee one was spending the night at his friend's house, so my husband took me to supper. It was nice. (Although we picked the night at that particular restaurant where they were having little league sign up, so the place quickly filled with families with little kids.) I did manage to control my mouth during dinner so I didn't scare children. I can do that, you know - scare little kids. I'm not proud of it, but it happens. February 21, 2010 - Maxine has left the building...finally. Lordy, that little rampage about killed me. My friend Jane and I were discussing this "mind over matter" issue last Thursday. We know we all have "moods" from time to time. Jane gets down and out seasonally (probably from lack of sun.) She knows the mood will be there and take her over, but she's powerless to fight it. I knew my 'Maxine' was caused by hormones but I couldn't fight my own brain when my own brain was causing the whole issue to begin with. Catch 22 above the neck. I apologize to everyone I was curt with and rude to and brushed off...sometimes it's best to put on blinders and go straight through life for a bit without dragging the masses into your brain meltdowns. I think I've learned the fine art of detaching my brain from work completely the last three days. Only took me nigh on 30 years to do so. I have all this vacation time I have to 'use or lose' and I really don't feel like giving it back to the company, so I've been using it. Friday was a day off. They called twice, but it was easy stuff and OK to call about as my back up had no clue how to fix this. You take the teaching opportunity as it comes to you. Yesterday and today I have total forgotten the place. Honestly, it's good for someone to totally forget "the place" from time to time. One hundred years from now it won't matter, anyway, right? I got a lot done over this tiny break - mopped the kitchen floor (several times - since it's warming up out and the dogs go out to potty and bring in half the back yard) - washed some curtains - washed some rugs - swept under the freezer and fridge (ick/gross) - swept the furniture in the living room - swept under the furniture in the living room - de-pooped the poop pen...I had fun cleaning. It won't last, of course. Humans clean in vain as it's all going to get dirty again in a rapid fashion, but I still had fun sucking up all that filth. The amount of dirt my family produces will always astound me. There is something therapeutic about the process of sucking up dirt. Suck up dirty/empty out dirt/be amazed by the amount of dirt you sucked up...very therapeutic. I made a nice dinner for my oldest son last night. (Per his request we had fresh cooked spinach, BLTs, and scalloped potatoes.) It was an 'odd' dinner but tasted very good. My oldest came over not only to eat but he entertained his little brother (they must have played video games until the wee hours of the morning.) I enjoy the laughter that floats down from upstairs, even if the games they are playing are violent war related, Zombie killing games. They giggle like girls... My daughter didn't come over. She decided to stay put and rest at home as she is fighting a cold. Wise choice, daughter of mine. Rest, precious - rest. February 23, 2010 - One day back at work and I'm ready for my next vacation (which starts this Friday and goes on for two whole weeks.) I believe it's the 'run and hide from it' mind set. It will still be there when I go back after my next wave of time off, however, so I might as well put on my big girl panties and deal with it. My wee one seems to be getting a cold. I can tell, because I'm a Mom. He claims he's fine. I'm the Mom, so I say he's getting sick. I don't want to curse the poor boy but I'm the professional here...his eyes look 'sick' to a trained Mom. I can't believe my daughter graduates from college in May! Holy Crap. Where did the time go? I am very proud of her - but she did all the work and I just stood by and gave uplifting speeches from time to time. I am proud of all my babies. I done good. The herd of deer in the back yard has grown in size over the winter. A deer commune of sorts. They have been digging through and apparently eating from the leaf pile out back that never got burned up prior to snow. They have also moved all the snow in the back yard and mowed the grass for us and pooped and peed and made the back yard their toilet. I am sure this is good fertilizer for the yard. They are not scared of me or the dogs anymore when we step out at night to finish business prior to going to bed...they stare as if to say, "We can take you lady, we have hooves..." I just stare at them now and let them be. Whadya gonna do? We went from several 'rebel' James Dean type deer to a whole herd. Impressive. February 27, 2010 - My friend, Kathy, is in Florida this week visiting her
Dad. She sent me a post card that made me laugh I had Friday off from work, starting a long vacation. I have to use up my days or lose them. I don't feel like giving them back this year, although if they offered the money for the vacation days plus let me work, I would seize that in a heart beat. I did basic cleaning on Friday since the wee one had a basketball game at night and he would do no chores. The house was nice and in order. That pleased me. Thursday night was my son's
pre-festival band concert. My daughter came down to watch it with us. We
picked up my husband's Mom as well. The concert was nice. My daughter came
home with us and we sat up until almost 10:30 telling stories and looking at family
pictures on the computer. I have an awesome family. Flat out awesome.
Every time I would see pictures of flowers, I would point this out to my husband.
"I like flowers!" I would say, hinting. (Our anniversary is
Monday.) He made disgusted noises when I would do the hinting.
Muffy has been acting out or as the kids say, "He's gone cat senile!" Muffy is in to EVERYTHING and playing like a kitten. At least he seems happy, senile or not. When I go over the edge, I want to be happy like Muffy. Suddenly Muffy can 'fly' to all levels of the house where he couldn't before with his bad hip. He has developed super cat powers. When we don't give him the attention he thinks he deserves, he jumps on to the counter and starts pushing items off on to the floor. He wakes us up in the middle of the night from his caterwauling. If we are in the bathroom, he scratches on the door non-stop. He plays with strings and anything that can be batted around. I can't even remember now how old he is. He's old...
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afterwards, but we will have
all the kids over this weekend for an official celebration.) It feels like no time
at all since his birth (where he decided it was time to come out and did so with speed and
vengeance) yet so much has happened in those seventeen years. Sigh. (I think
one of my favorite pictures of him as a baby had to be when he had chicken pox. His
sister had generously shared them with her baby brother and he was COVERED head to toe,
inside and 
out, with pox. Back then I would amaze
family and friends with the Polaroids of the poor boy's spots almost as if I was proud of
how badly he was peppered with the things...)
our little family well and is
blessed to have a supporting older sister and brother that adore him and also treat him
like a...well - um - BROTHER. (The terms "turd head", "sheep
head", and "poop eater" are still used quite frequently in his 
presence...) The
boy has never had a proper Birthday Party per say with his birth so close to the
Christmas/New Year combo. I believe I will have to rectify that next year when he
turns eighteen. He doesn't seem to hold it against us that we never had a big bash
for him...so that is a good thing. 
All of my
married life (except for those bad years where I wanted him dead and his body drawn and
quartered...but I digress and we won't get in to that here) if I get a 'cool' pen, I drag
it home to my husband. I received one in the mail at work from a supplier, and I
opened it up and saw it was a fancy pen. Immediately I make sounds like Gollum in
'Lord of the Rings' as I squirrelled it away in my purse to haul home to my husband.
"I gots a pen, precious...I gots a pen..." I said later when I gave it to
him. It's my own little pavlovian reaction to a nice ink pens. Odd, but it's
always been that way. I have not tried to figure it out. It's just one of
those things that "is" and I can't change it. Genetic predisposition to
articles filled with ink must run in my family. 
Saturday was an adventure. It was the annual Chili Cook Off and Ice
Festival in my little town. The last two years my daughter and I have gone to Terri
(our hair goddess) to get our hair done, after which we would cruise the ice
sculptures. This year we saw a few ice blocks give their life for the greater good
of our viewing pleasure, but our time was limited. My wee one, my daughter's
boyfriend, and my husband all got their hair cut too. Then my daughter had her hair
highlighted and cut, and I just had a wash and blow dry for the relaxing factor.
Then we scurried home, loaded everyone in the car, and headed over to the neighboring town
for the Band District Solo and Ensemble that my youngest son was participating in. 
Oh, I found this quite funny... in the dog pen there was a trail of crow
foot imprints (see picture on left) in the mud leading up to a circle where it looked like
this bird did a fancy one footed dance in a circle (see picture on right.) Why in
the world would a bird DO THAT?!!! I WANT TO KNOW WHY!! 
out loud. Hahaha. She
also said in the post card that she passed up a lecture entitled (and she was not joking)
"Is Your Bladder More Active Than You?" She is in Florida, after all, she
said. I would have gone to that lecture, because - YES - my bladder is way more
active than I've been in decades. Smile.
On Friday when I was outside feeding the birds, I saw the flower truck
pull up. I laughed. I brought in the huge bouquet and read the card.
"For the 30th time, here's your darn flowers!!" That made me laugh,
too. Our time together over the last 30 years has been a roller coaster, to say the
least. The last few years have been the best, family wise. I am so glad he
finally realized what cool kids he has. The kids are taking us to dinner on Sunday. 
