Mom of the Perpetually Grounded

Story of My Life

2012-01-26T12:01:00.000-08:00

It could at least have the courtesy to be four leafed or is that leaved...whatever...

© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

The Transaction

2012-01-17T04:52:00.000-08:00

It was a long frigid winter two years ago.

I never saw it coming. We had standards and beliefs. Hadn’t we given her enough?

Outside it was a dreary damp afternoon. Ice cold rain had been drizzling for hours. Safe in our warm cozy home I heard a firm knock on the front door. I watched, curious, as my husband opened up for the unexpected visitor. Who would be out in this weather?

He looms tall and sinister in the doorway, rain dripping from his long black trench coat. The collar turned up to meet a wild halo of frizzy black hair and his face, thin and somber partially hidden behind dripping fogged glasses making his dark eyes impossible to read . A deep voice echoes in the hall. “Is Littlest here?” Hesitant, my husband draws back a few steps.

“Littlest”, he calls out uncertainly, “there’s….. someone… here.”

His voice trails off into silence that spills into the entryway and expands until broken by the rapid beat of our fourteen year old daughters’ footsteps above.

“Oh” I hear her say as she peers over the banister, “just a minute.”

I’m puzzled now. She didn’t mention anyone coming over. What is he doing here? What does he want? She deftly descends the stairs holding something in her hand and approaches the dark figure. Saying nothing he opens his trench coat and slowly reaches inside. I see my husband tense slightly as the stranger pulls something from deep within an inner pocket. His hand emerges holding a square black box. There are wires springing from one end and wrapped around the outside. Our youngest child stops abruptly, holding out a small paper bag at arms length. They cautiously and swiftly make the exchange without physical contact. He opens the bag and peers inside, nodding as though to confirm that it's all there and carefully tucks it into the recesses of the trench coat. “Thanks”, Littlest says quietly. The stranger dips his head in acknowledgement and turns away, disappearing into the mist.

My husband stands at the door confused.

“What was all that”, he asks?

Littlest answered brightly. "That was H. He rides my bus. He doesn’t use his Game Cube anymore and said I could have it because he has an Xbox now, so I made him some cookies.

Oh yes. I did recognize the perfectly average boy I've seen get off the bus in the afternoon.

We are 'mean' parents. My daughters do not own a lot of fancy gadgets. They don't have an iPhone or Androids. Just plain cheap cell phones. The fact that they break or lose at least one a year confirms this decision. Lit has an older model iPod that DecentGuy gave her but we will not purchase one. A perfectly reasonable MP3 player can be had for twenty five bucks. They each have a PC but they don't have laptops. Littlest did get a Nintendo ds as a birthday gift a couple years ago but the last full system we purchased was a PlayStation 2 and that will be it. If they want something fancier they can save and buy it themselves someday. They had asked for a Game Cube for the sole purpose of playing ONE game on it. Even though they were already down in value we vetoed, saying it wasn't worth spending the money for one game and they had enough stuff anyway.

So yes it’s true.

Our poor deprived children resorted to Bartering With Baked Goods.

© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

That Littlest Girl

2012-01-09T16:01:00.000-08:00

I thought I would continue the theme of picking on Littlest. Something very strange has been happening to her recently and has come to a head this week..
Littlest is what you might call a slightly late bloomer. At least by today's standards. She has never been the flirty type and held herself in reserve when it came to boys. She turned her nose up at the constant boyfriend switching her friends participated in during middle school. She rolled her eyes at Middlest whenever she proclaimed herself 'In love '-Again. In her early teens she focused her affection on a boy who barely knew she was alive for a long time and was satisfied with adoring him from afar. Until she got close enough to really know him and that was the end of that. She has always been the exact opposite of boy crazy and because of her aloof manner unfortunately attracted boys who were inappropriately to old for her for some time. She would deftly avoid the situation until they went away.

She hasn't necessarily been happy being boyfriend-less though. For a long time she lacked confidence, feeling Middlest was prettier than her and got more attention from boys. Starting about the middle of ninth grade and continuing on through her sophomore year she created her mantra:

"I'm Going To Die ALONE"

She even carved it in our picnic table.

Finally, last September when she became a Junior, a boy whom she has actually known some time got the nerve up to ask her out. I have mentioned this briefly before and they are still an item.

But. As soon as she became happily ensconced in having someone to sit with at lunch and hold hands with in the hall something started to happen.

It started with a boy she liked briefly last year who chose a slightly more.... 'wild' girl instead. After realizing and discarding his mistake he found Littlest otherwise occupied and um..cried.

There was the one who also was interested in Jiu Jitsu and was harboring some hope during the 'Homecoming Incident.' but had to back away. He is suffering from terminal jealousy and Today he very meanly asked Lit's boyfriend if , "he was embarrassed that his girlfriend could beat him up." The boyfriend is a quiet boy. He didn't respond. The other is pretty lucky they were at school because Littlest might have beat him up instead.

Then. There is a...young man, now I guess, who has been pining for Middlest for twelve years. Starting in 1st grade. No Joke. He has been Middlests boyfriend in 5th & 8th grade and for a short time during Sophomore year. In between they were just buddies and wrestled and threw rocks at each other in the front yard or complained about the people they Were dating. This is a great kid. The kind any parent of girls would Love their daughter to date. The kind Most Girls would knock themselves out trying to catch. There is even family history. His mom dated The SeaMonkey briefly in High School.... then again, who didn't?...but anyway....He's a terrific kid but all the same Mid says,

"I can't date him anymore because he's like my brother."

So. Recently he found out Littlest has been working out at the same gym and suggested they start working out together because he couldn't find anyone else as dedicated as he is. So they did.
Now Littlest has been in the middle of all the wrestling and rock throwing all along but apparently his eyes just opened and it took about a week for him to fall for Littlest instead.
(Can you say, Little Women?..I knew you could.)

That would be Littlest who says... "No, I'm happy with my boyfriend...and

"I can't date him. He's like my brother."

I told The SeaMonkey we should have had more daughters to give him a few more shots at being related to us since he seems determined ; )

Littlest was relieved that he is transferring to an out of state college this week because she likes having him as a friend and felt bad. He isn't giving up easy though. he left her with a care package. A backpack full of Ramen noodles, chocolate, martial arts movies, some spare shin guards and a Hello Kitty pillow. Oh, and a three page letter explaining how Awesome she is.
Very industrious this one. But then, he knows her very well.

Still. According to Littlest, no one can beat her guitar playing, theatre performing, dorky, long haired boy who likes to sport a fedora and a vest and gave her a giant Key Blade for Christmas, (pretty much the key to her heart) even if she is stronger than him.

But as for the young lady who despaired that she wasn't attractive and was certain that she would never find love and

"Will Die Alone"

I Think Not ; )

Moon Music

You Are What You...Are

2012-01-05T06:11:00.000-08:00

Life With Littlest

She says:

"I don't want to 'be' an artist. It's Middlests' thing."

It is her sisters thing. But I tell her, "Sometimes it's not a question of trying or becoming or even loving it more than anything else." Sometimes it's a case of :

You ARE

You can have fun with it if you want to.

You can even combine it with what you really love.

It doesn't have to be your life's work...BUT

"The simple fact is, You ARE Failing Art!"

How, you may ask, do you Fail Art?!

It goes something like this:

"I can't just do something every day because I'm supposed to. I don't know how the 'elements and principles played a part in the creation of my piece'. I can't analyze the deep meaning of my work. It's a picture. I did it. That's all."

I tell her: "Everything doesn't have to be a masterpiece. Just make an effort and write what you think they want to hear about it. It doesn't have to be perfect."

"Yes it does."

MmmHmmm......

My normal response to Very Bad grades is:

Then you ARE Grounded.

What do you think, Moms and former High School students?

Should you ground or punish for failed electives? It may not be related to their goals in life but it all goes into the GPA.

If it doesn't change by report card time is she grounded?

© 2012 MOTPG All Rights Reserved

I'm Recovering From Christmas

2011-12-27T08:05:00.000-08:00

I'm recovering from Christmas
And mostly can be found
Reclining on my sofa
With a cat and a hound

Watching old movies
Perusing my new book
Playing Guitar Hero
And refusing to cook

I'm enjoying my last glimpses
Of our ornaments glowing
Before the huge haul job
Of packing and stowing

I'm feeling pretty lazy
And too tired out to write or talk
I'm napping in the afternoon
And hitting bed a eight o'clock

We had a lovely season
And to all of you So Dear
I hope your Holidays were Brilliant!
And even Brighter your New Year.

I'll be back around when I don't feel like I was delivered by FedEx.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Extra Merry!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-12-23T17:44:00.000-08:00

BIGGEST FOUND THE CAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Merry The Twain Shall Meet

2011-12-22T11:10:00.000-08:00

I Wish You Joy

I Wish You Peace.

I Wish You A Merry Christmas!

and/or

Happy Hanukkah!

too. If that's what you do.

And

Much Happiness

in the

New Year

The Christmas lights on my bookcase display exploded and one of the toilet flushers is busted. I now feel relaxed and perfectly safe commencing with celebration.

For more Christmas fun please visit Really Bad Hokey Christmas Poetry on my other blog.

The Week Before Christmas

or listen to Miss Judy.
There is a commercial but it's the Holiday Season so I guess it can't be escaped.
But, Nobody does it better : )

Judy Garland - a merry little Christmas
Uploaded by Alexander_Band. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.© 2011 All Rights Reserved

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Peace and Joy...

2011-12-20T17:12:00.000-08:00

Tuesday 7:38 PM

Earlier this evening The SeaMonkey was visiting Biggest. He had a meeting set up with Decent Guy who has a fresh shrimp connection and had made a deal for 40 lbs.

Anyway...he had just walked in the door when Biggest called....She said....
Da Droov ahh wi maaa caaa on hes ruuuf anwahh Sobb sobb ...Decen guuyyy follwwahhh hiimmm buh Da whaa wasn payiinnn attteennnttiiooonn annn sheee juuummmppppeeed an III cannnn finnnn herrrr iiii waaas weeeowww whaaaa...

Which translated was:
Dad drove off with my cat on his roof and Decent Guy followed him but dad wasn't paying attention and she jumped off and I can't find her. It was Willow!

Decent Guy was following flashing his lights and honking and there was a cat on the roof and The SeaMonkey noticed None of This. Now he's devastated and feels horrible.

But not as horrible as me because in the middle of all this I walked in the family room and found a half eaten decomposing squirrel laying in the middle of the carpet.

A little treat the dog found in the yard and snuck past the door without us noticing.

I'm so glad we don't allow the hustle and bustle of the holidays to distract us from the little everyday things that make life worthwhile.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Peace It Together

2011-12-18T06:35:00.000-08:00

It can be hard to find.

How do we achieve it? What is it to you?

Quiet? Tranquility? Stability?A Goal for the world?

Peace of Mind? Peace at Heart?

Peace.

On a regular Wednesday afternoon.

I suddenly have nothing important to do. My knees hurt and I'm a little tired. No one is around. How peaceful. A perfect occasion for a nap. I stretch out full length, a luxury at my house, a couch to yourself. I tuck my plush throw snugly around my legs and set the pillows up 'just right.' I turn the TV on and flip through the channels. I can't rest in total quiet. I need some background noise to still my thoughts and keep them from running riot and disturbing my peace. I find "How To Make An American Quilt." Hmm, that was a good book. I don't go out of my way to watch movies from books I've enjoyed because of possible frustration but if I happen on one I might give it a try. Besides, I like Winona Rider and trust her judgement and interpretations of some others I enjoyed without disappointment. So I settle in and close my eyes occasionally popping them open when something piques my curiosity. This is nice.
Then I hear footsteps approaching and inwardly groan. Crud. I peek from the corner of my eye as Middlest settles in to the easy chair and pulls up the coffee table to set down a bowl of soup. She's not supposed to be eating in here but she is going out of her way to be quiet so I let it be. Relax. She isn't going to bother me. So I rest, listening to the dialogue of the movie and the gentle tink of Mids spoon rhythmically hitting the bowl. But after a time she breaks the silence. "What are you watching?"

"How To Make An American Quilt." It's a good story. The book's downstairs on my shelf. Fourth row."

I hear her get up and pad her dishes to the kitchen and then she is back.

"Scoot over. I should be finishing some things before work but this is good."

"Sigh". I bend my knees. Oh well. I've lost a third of the couch but at least she doesn't want to change the channel. I hear more steps entering the room and Littlest plops on a stool beside the table with a bag of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. I slit my eyes open, watching as she throws the cookie in the milk then eats it with a spoon. Disgusting and also forbidden in here but I'm sleeping so I don't see it. I drift on sound waves from the movie, in and out. "What is this?" Littlest asks.

"How to Make An American Quilt. It's a good book too. I have it downstairs in my bookcase if you want it."

"Scoot over."

"No", whines Middlest. "There isn't enough room. I'm comfortable."

"Sigh". I bend at the waist and pull myself up to a sitting position.

"Move over Mid. There is plenty of room."

So we sit. The semi silence of the room broken now by questions brought on by the parts they missed. "Who is that? Why is she doing that?" It's a good story. About stories. About women. I sit with my two young women and fill in where I can. Wonder out loud myself on the parts I can't remember. The room is no longer still and quiet but it is peaceful. When the movie is over Littlest asks, "Where did you say the book was?" Middlest follows with, "I want to read it too."

It's in my bookcase. It's been there for years. Waiting. Waiting to share. Unsuspecting I set it there waiting for this moment of Peace of Mind. They are smart and remarkable young women. Peace in my girls because, though they aren't always peaceful, they are so truly mine and nothing in this world can change that. As I sit in my kitten pile of daughters I know these moments are fleeting and precious. My family and my love for them are My Heart.

I Wish You Peace.

Do you think it can't be found? That it is so big and huge an undertaking that it never lasts,
at least not for long. We may not always see it. There is work and school and mess in the house and strife in the world. Where do we find it?

Peace at Heart.

Let It Be and it Will Be.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Just Joy With It

2011-12-10T08:18:00.001-08:00

It's just there.

I don't know why. Bubbling up while I vacuum. Snuggling into my blanket while I relax. Swelling to a crescendo when I walk across a room. It can't be stopped.

There is no exact reason for it. When you look at the big picture there would seem to be every reason for it to not be present at all. True, though there have been the usual share of stresses, lately things have not been a train wreck for me personally. I imagine that helps. All the petty worries that chip away slowly are there as usual. All the huge worries than can overwhelm are present as always and conspire to make us lose hope. But the joy overtakes them like a tidal wave drowning them in delicious tingles of content and ripples of laughter.

I have habitually distrusted joy, always waiting for the event that crushes it. Felt guilty with joy. Why should I have joy when there is such a lack of it for others? Felt foolish for joy. This world is a serious place with serious problems. Do I not see the trouble everywhere starting from right next door and spreading across the world? Yes I do.

Yet I feel Joy. Unbounded all consuming Joy.

And
maybe events might crush it.
I try to find ways to bring it to others.
I am aware and do what I can and what I think best.

So I have decided,

To Have My Joy and Be Joyful Too.

I Wish You Joy!

Will you stick it in a drawer and wait for a better time to use it?

Don't do that.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Listen........

2011-12-08T14:19:00.001-08:00

There IS NOTHING going on at my house. Not a thing. Not a peep.

and Biggests' phone isn't working ; )

Turn off the news. Turn off the screen. Turn off the phone. Set that list aside.

It's a dim down. Just breathe.

Moon Music

Time Capsule

2011-12-04T05:14:00.001-08:00

Back in October I decided to chance the deep dark depths of the closet under the stairs. I took some pictures while I was doing it and in keeping with the system by which I created my time capsule I'm just getting around to organizing this into a post. If this is the first time you are visiting my blog let me recap that my daughters are 24, 18 and 16 years old. We moved into this house when they were 2,4 and 10. At that time there was only one thing in the closet and it's still there. This was a very emotional experience. I am sentimental and so are my daughters. I have tried to do this before and they prevented me so I finally waited till they were not here and dove in. The SeaMonkey has been complaining and threatening to throw it all away for years.

Let's start with what I would find when I opened the door. Don't ask why there are blinding blue walls with big white splotches all over them. It was a family project. That's all. See that pile of stuff to the left? Middlest left these things when she moved in with Biggest-in September-and back in- last month- and has been asked to move them to the shed or back in her room.

Want to know where they are now? Just a second, let me turn around.

That's right. In my office.

So anyway. Beyond the norm like luggage and sleeping bags,

I find more of my most recent child to reach adulthood.

Mid practices painting using old cardboard to save money so I had a whole lot of cardboard

and also canvas in there.

More Mid. wth? Seriously.

This is a box of stuff left from when my mom lived with us in 2007

and it's all junk but I didn't want to deal with it at the time.

Then a little further back to when Biggest moved out.

This is a really nice pair of handmade cowboy boots that she says she has no place to wear. She admired a pair a regular customer was wearing when she was about 18 and working at a sandwich shop. The next week they brought her a pair.

Because that kind of stuff happens to Biggest.

I put them in Mids room.

Ah, and then I hit the dress up bag. Oh boy. The mommy hormones started to hit about that time but I persevered. The doll is gone. The costumes? Ok yeah, They're still there.

Are you kidding Ms. G.?

GONE!

This is Ouchy.

Ouchy belongs to Littlest. There is not much of her stuff in there because there is yet another big closet upstairs and it is still full. But Ouchy?

Ouchy stays.

This was one of my dads hats. He died 11 years ago.

This? Oh yes! This IS a totally Awesome purse from the 80's.

What do you mean? Where do You THINK it is? : )

Mm Hmm. Doesn't fit a single toilet in the house. But! You never know.

Then we hit another clean the kids rooms out session. Thomas the train, cars and a naked Barbie.

I was going to dispose of these. Guess who saw them in the trash pile and asked me to put them back? The Seamonkey. Mr. "Just throw it all out." Mm hmm.

And whales. Of course there where whales. And there still are.

Pooh and boxing gloves. The story of my children in one photo.

Yes. That is exactly what it looks like.

Feel feel to use the photo to confound the children on family trivia game night.

Alright. Sometimes being a pack rat is very cool. No these have not been under the stairs since World War II ended.

But they had been under there so long I forgot I owned them.

Do you know what all this is?

Neither do I, so I just put it back in the box and left it under there.

Back a few more years to Pooh.

And Grumpy

At the very back a box of Biggest. The first one. Softball trophies and Birthday Barbie.

You know those stayed too.

Last of all was our crib comforter. My parents bought it for us when I was pregnant with Biggest. Yes. It stays.

All in all I sorted thru 7 large bags of stuffed animals to be donated or disposed of.

There are two left. (One entirely filled with whales). I was troubled by the lack of apes and when questioned by Biggest realized she doesn't have them either. The monkeys have escaped!

God help us if we don't find them somewhere. You should have seen her face.

I also threw away a few boxes of junk and am proud to say you can now walk five feet into the closet. Or at least you could until The Seamonkey said, "Look at all that space"and put his stuff in it.

But while it was empty I saw something I haven't seen in many years. At the very back the closet takes a left turn and reduces to three feet high. Just the right size for a young child to sit and play Barbies in the Barbie house their mother contorted herself to create and stenciled and hand painted the walls of. There are actually six rooms but my knees didn't allow me to stay in there long.

I still refuse to concede that, as my children claim, "they are screwed up because I kept them in a closet under the stairs when they were little. "

Ingrates.

I even let all three of them paint the clouds all over that blue sky.

And no, this will never be repainted as long as I live.

Do you have trouble saying goodbye to pieces of the past? Or are you a ruthless clutter killer?

Shout Outs ...cause I'm..um..busy.. like that.

2011-11-27T09:17:00.001-08:00

I recently was awarded my 19th blog award. Now I haven't actively participated in the awards in a very long time because I'm bad at keeping up with them and agonise over who to give them to. So I took my award page down, though sometimes I gaze at it privately and glow all over, but I have always tried to do some shout outs for the people who gave them. I'm behind on a couple of those too.

Because I've been decorating my house for Christmas since Friday and because it is a three day project at my house...and that's just the living room...and I have 2 full time work projects next week and I haven't thought of an actual post I am doing my shout outs. It also means I won't answer my comments consistently and I hate it when I don't. The past couple months have been the least amount of time I have ever spent at my blog and I'm starting to feel guilty for not visiting everyone more often. But anyway, what better time for you to visit someone else instead. Below are a list of Bloggers who have given me an award and a couple who I have found more recently and I would give an award to, if I wasn't so ~~lazy~~ busy, and that I have met since my last award ceremony---about 2 templates ago.

I like them all. Go visit! ...or you're grounded.

Mommie Dearest Strikes Again. Who is terrific! I love her blog and we discovered we have something in common. But I'm not going to tell you what it is.

Gene Pool Diva from Diminishing Gene Pool She is funny, with a dry wit, and I love that. I also suspect that, we too, have a couple things in common.

Daphne at My Distant Husband. Who, besides having one of those terrific names I am envious of, is living in a separate state from her husband for work reasons and handling this difficult situation with grace and wisdom.

Ms. A from Sarcastic Granny: Because she is one of those wonderful people that you fall right in comfortably with, as though you have always known them And I love that too.

Fi from Inspiration To Dream: Because I like Fi. And I think you might too. She is introspective and strong and has boys -like I have girls-so- she deserves a hug as well as a shout out ; )

And last of all Charlotte from Charlotte's Web. A young woman I call my 'blog daughter' because I tease her that she was meant to be one of my girls and would have fit nicely in the gap between Biggest and Mid, but during that time we were poor as dirt and taking care of my husbands elderly grandfather, so fate sent her to a terrific and lucky mom (who I suspect I would also like very much) in England. I adore her and if you like my girls you will adore her too because she is like them in some ways, only Not Awful. She recently started a new blog after a hiatus, so go say hi : )

Or, as always, visit someone from my blog roll. Worth a visit, Every. One.

I had better go now. Especially since I have repeatedly erased the same random hyphen from multiple words before I realized it was a spot on my screen. Have a great week! I'll visit whenever I can escape.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Now, Where Was I....

2011-11-21T09:56:00.001-08:00

Oh. Yes. After harassing Bleeps department store I left on my trip. Now that I returned last night and made a mad dash to the store for turkey and stuff, alleviating my anxiety that they would be out of those little white heat and serve rolls, and am under the influence of over a weeks worth of laundry, I can take a moment between cycles to catch up.

I left just at the moment of the full moon and so was not able to give my monthly report. However, being away did not stop the lunacy at all and I can now share Novembers events.

First, and simplest of all, the night before I left,

Biggest called.

And told me I have a new grandchild.

His name is Eugene. He is approximately 7 to 8 weeks old. We weren't home an hour before she was calling to see if she could bring him over. Apparently Eugene's Mama was carrying him across a road when a jerk in a truck almost hit her and she dropped Eugene and ran into the woods. A nice lady saw this and stopped to get him out of the road but Eugene's mama never came back so she scooped him up and the natural magnetism of the earth aided by the full moon brought her in the direction of Biggest.
Now Eugene has a new Mama.

We also had some teenage drama in the week before I left. The night before I left , a Thursday, was Homecoming week at Littlests' school. She and her boyfriend had mutually decided that wasn't their bag. However Lits' boyfriend has a female friend that Littlest just barely abides, because she doesn't trust her. So. This young lady kept lamenting the fact that she was not going to Homecoming so pitifully, and pathetically, and constantly that a few days before Homecoming Lits boyfriend took pity on her and volunteered to take her and sent Littlest a message letting her know and asking if since he was going anyway did she want to tag along too.

Yeah.

The sequence of reactions from both Littlests' friends and family went some thing like this:

What? Dump him. Can he really be that dense? He can't be that dense?

Yes. He. Can.

So she dumped. They both cried. Then he must have performed some kind of desperate gesture because within 24 hours He was not going to Homecoming and Thursday night he was hanging out at our house with Littlest, watching movies. Wait...wait...this is the full moon part...During the course of the evening...

I Heard Her GIGGLE- I've been sworn to secrecy but that's why I'm anonymous.

Last of all. I may have mentioned Middlests' singing before. Mid has a full rich voice that could grace a mezzo soprano diva. And the pitch of....a toddler with a wiffle ball. If she sings along with someone she does ok but otherwise it is something akin to a cat fight. She was able to tune her instruments by ear with no problem. Maybe playing in bass clef all those years confused her brain. I bought the girl an Irish whistle on our trip and in less than 24 hours she has worked out, Oh Danny Boy and part of the theme song to Lord of the Rings. I don't know what the disconnect is with her vocal cords but one of the things I love about her is that it doesn't stop her. She sings her heart out. It doesn't matter where either. She often sings while walking or riding her bike down the road. Which leads me to the phone call I received from her while I was gone. It went like this.

Mom. I'm walking home from work and first that stray cat started following me again and I was walking along with him and was singing and was halfway thru the cut through neighborhood and three police cars suddenly came tearing up and stopped to question me because someone reported I was walking down the road threatening to kill myself.

What?! What did they say?

They said someone called and then they asked if I was alright and where I was coming from and where I was going and made me show them my ID. I told them I was perfectly happy I was just going home and singing. Then they asked if that was my cat and I said no.

What on earth were you singing?

Nothing really. Just some Rancid ........

and The Hare Krishna Song.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As for The SeaMonkey and I we had a wonderful time. It has been over two years since we went on a vacation and visited the mountains. And though we do get to travel for business and spend some time together we realized it had actually been ten years since we have been able to go on a vacation trip together. Just us. That was way overdue and though we missed our girls at certain landmarks it was nice We really needed it.

We drove to Virginia where there were still a few pockets of gorgeous fall color and then followed the Blue Ridge Parkway down to North Carolina and across to Tennessee where we played in The Smokies for several days. We had some lovely cold weather and I sat on my rock.

This is my rock.

And I could play with all the smaller rocks to my hearts content.

We had a couple days of really good rain and the rivers swelled and were raging. And then best of all, up in the mountains of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, It Snowed! I know many of you live in places where the trees become bare and it snows tons so winter isn't a big deal but to people who don't get a serious winter it can be very exciting. That morning it snowed for four hours leaving about a 1/4 inch on the ground and getting drifts of maybe 1/2 inch! ; ) Snow does something to natural born Floridians and others from warmer climates. For four hours we played around in the snow and watched others do the same. All ages, young and old, acting silly, taking pictures, throwing snow, catching snow, dancing around in snow and just watching in wonder as it fell on us. It was as much fun as playing in it to drive past and watch a group of people with cameras and looks of pure delight on their faces jumping around in ecstasy and joy. We craned our necks to check as we passed. Yep. Florida tags : )

The next morning there were still a few pockets in the shaded places and I did what any good Southerner would do with a wealth of half inch of snow

Made the worlds smallest snowman!

I had my fall and winter all in one week and it was wonderful : )

I told The SeaMonkey I was going to have all the snow pictures blown up, paste them to the windows and have my own personal white Christmas. But even if it ends up being 80 I am feeling Refreshed and Blessed and Thankful beyond words. Bring on The Holidays! I'm ready.

HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

and if you're one of my friends from outside the US, have a Wonderful Week in general and eat some turkey anyway, just cause it's Awesome ; )

Then Sings My Soul. Those might be the words.

Am I Quibbling?

2011-11-10T06:04:00.001-08:00

Want to know how I used to amuse myself before I began blogging? Here is an example.

The following are a series of emails I have been exchanging with Bleeps Department Store.
If you sign up for their sale alert emails they offered to give you a 10% online or $5.00 in store discount on your next purchase. So I went for it. Why not?

First I got this:

Thank you for signing up to receive Bleep.com Sale Alerts!

To welcome you to Sale Alerts, you will receive two special offers:

- A $5 coupon to use in our stores
- A 10% off Promo Code to use online

THESE SPECIAL OFFERS WILL ARRIVE IN A SEPARATE E-MAIL WITHIN 10 DAYS. As a subscriber to our e-mail Sale Alerts, you'll hear about our biggest sales, shipping deals, credit offers and so much more! Every week, we'll send you up-to-the-minute info on our great sale prices. And, you'll periodically receive other great savings offers, like these:

- FREE Standard Shipping on your order (with a minimum purchase)
- EXTRA SAVINGS when you Checkout with your Bleep Charge Card
- NEW Markdowns in our Clearance Department
- BIG savings in every department

Plus, every e-mail includes an easy opt-out feature, so you can choose to unsubscribe* at any time. Please note, you may receive a sale alert before your welcome offer.

Thanks again for subscribing to Bleeps Sale Alerts! Stay tuned for more great savings, coming your way soon!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then on November 8th, I sent this:
Hello,

I signed up for email alerts on October 21 and was supposed to receive an online discount or $5.00 off coupon for in store by email within ten days but have never received anything. Can you give me any info? Thank you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then I received this:
Dear Ms. G,
Thank you for contacting Bleeps regarding our Sale Alerts promotion. I appreciate the opportunity to review your concern.

I regret that you did not receive an e-mail containing your $5 coupon and 10% promo code. Please allow 7-10 business days for these offers to arrive. To ensure timely delivery of our e-mails, please add Bleeps.com to your list of approved senders and check your spam blocker. We are unable to send a duplicate e-mail or issue physical coupons.

If the designated timeframe passes and you still do not receive these offers, we have the following alternatives:-You may place an online order and we will be happy to credit 10% off the order and honor free standard shipping when you e-mail us the order number.

-You may make a purchase in-store using your Bleeps Charge and we will credit $5 to your account when you e-mail us the numbers at the top of your purchase receipt (beginning with the purchase date). Please also include your billing address so we can locate your account.

The $5 coupon and the 10% promo code are not valid on the purchase of Bleeps Gift Cards. E-mail addresses previously signed up for e-mail Sale Alerts are not eligible to receive the $5 coupon and the 10% promo code. Also, the $5 coupon and the 10% promo code cannot be used together. If you choose to place a Bleeps.com order, priority shipping and the shipping surcharges are excluded from this offer. We are unable to process credits to credit cards other than Bleeps for in-store purchases.I hope these options are suitable and I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience you experienced because the offers were not received.

We appreciate the time you took to contact us and look forward to serving you again at Bleeps.com.
Sincerely,
****** S.
eService Advocate
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------So I answered with this:

Hi ***** S,

Thank you for responding. As I mentioned in my original email, I registered for email alerts on October 21. That would be 13 business days, not including the 21st which was a Friday. Not to mention the offer said nothing about business days, but no big deal. The email is not in my Spam filter. I was able to check it because I always forget to empty it. The Advertising Alerts somehow managed to get through just fine. Perhaps they will be directed to my Spam box in the future. I do not have a Bleeps Charge nor do I wish to get one. I also only rarely shop online as there is a Bleeps store only 10 minutes from my house. I was planning on doing some shopping there this morning. Perhaps my car will be directed somewhere else in the future.

I appreciate your taking the time to contact me in return.

Sincerely,
Ms. G
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And Got This:

I appreciate the opportunity to assist you with your $5 coupon. I can certainly see why you want to take advantage of this great offer. I know saving money is important for all of us, and shopping with Bleeps is a great way to stretch those dollars.

To ensure timely delivery of our e-mails, please add Bleeps.com to your list of approved senders and check your spam blocker. We are unable to send a duplicate e-mail or issue physical coupons.
While it may be difficult to receive negative information about our services, it is important for us to become aware of the recent challenges you experienced. We make every effort to ensure that your online shopping experience is a pleasant one. I regret this was not the case for you.

Your disappointment is understandable. Please know that your comments have been heard at our corporate office and that we are dedicated to improving our website.
Mrs. G, you are a valued customer and we appreciate the time you took to contact us. We hope that you will allow us another opportunity to provide you with the excellence in service that you truly deserve.

We appreciate the time you took to contact us and look forward to serving you again at Bleep.com.

****** W.
eService Advocate
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok. In my draft box I have this reply:
Hello ***W,

Thank you for taking the time to contact me over $5.00.
I'm sorry if I seem grumpy, I know it's not a huge issue but considering I have spent nearly $343.94 at Bleeps during the past month and approximately $600.00 since August, I did find it rather annoying. After all just think how much that $5.00 coupon could have stretched those dollars.That $5.00 might pay for half a pair of socks or the lining in some underpants at your store.

I quote myself from the previous email, "The email is not in my Spam filter. I was able to check it because I always forget to empty it. " My email client sends Spam directly to a folder, if it even catches it, which it usually doesn't. The only specific filters I have created would go into effect if Bleeps was trying to date me or Love Me Long Time. Which they obviously don't intend to do. But that's ok. Don't worry yourself. I'll get over it eventually. After all I know it's not me. It's you.

~~Luv~~ Your Friend,
Ms. G
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What do you think?
Should I send it?
Am I Quibbling? ; )

I am leaving tomorrow on my Obviously Much Needed Vacation! I will not be taking any media devices with me...which is probably a swell idea too. If I miss you today I'll catch ya when I get back! For now I better get busy ( Driving back to Bleeps Dept. Store because the Associate forgot to take the alarm tag off the coat I bought yesterday) because I have just spent about $50.00 worth of my time on $5.00

I've used this one before but it fits...

Moon Music

Lessons Learned

2011-11-05T10:55:00.000-07:00

This week ended up being way more eventful than I planned so I haven't been around much after all.

Some unexpected work projects came up where my presence was required but that is a good thing because it means money and money is good. Other than that....

I may have mentioned before that I have been driving since I was 18 and have never been involved in a car accident. Not even a fender bender. Until Tuesday. Since it has been getting light later, I have been driving Littlest to school. Because my kids don't drive and possibly never will...anyway..I may have also mentioned HOW I have been driving them for twenty years. No, not in my pajama's. I get up and change from my pajamas into something much worse. Most recently that would be my cool weather uniform of faded yoga pants-with a hole, old green chenille sweater-with two holes, over giant t shirt (no bra), flip flops and hair that may or may not have been brushed. Every morning I pray that I don't get in a fender bender or get a flat and become a mockery on the side of the road. Does that stop me? No. I get up at 5:30 and leave the house at seven and the school is only 5 minutes away. Getting dressed for that is not worth the trouble. Particularly if I'm coming straight home to ~~blog~~ work at the house for a few hours. So. Tuesday Lit and I are approaching her school when ~~"what the hell are you doing?!"~~ a truck turned Right In Front Of Me! But I am an excellent driver and I stopped before I was eating airbag for breakfast. The lovely teenage driver behind me? Well she stopped in time too ( though later when I mentioned it was my first accident she cheerfully told me she had been in three!) I had just started to move forward again, when the teacher behind her-slammed the the back end of her Mercedes with his ten year old Ford Ranger and I said, "Oh Lord that didn't sound good and then I said, "Are you serious?" Because, she was suddenly forced forward too and I was involved in an accident. We all pulled over and as far as I could see I had no damage. The Mercedes and Ranger were not looking as good. But I stayed anyway. I have never done this and we did get jolted pretty hard. I wasn't sure what to do. I know whiplash can sometimes be delayed. It didn't help that the poor teacher looked like he was going to have a stroke when he asked if we were alright and I asked Littlest who announced, "My Back Hurts." What he didn't know was that she had already injured her back at Jiu Jitsu and had a doctors appointment scheduled. But by the time the cop came, I just told him what happened, said I was fine and asked if I could leave. Then I did. Do you recall Middlest graduating in the spring? This was HER math teacher. End of Story.

Oh Wait. Did I mention that it was one of the 1 out of every 500 times, in the past twenty years, that I had to go to work directly after dropping kids off and was fully dressed?
There is a God.

In other news...

Middlest moved out two months ago and she's had a bit of a rough time. First, as soon as she moved out her manager at work cut her down to about 6 hours a week at work. This guy is a first class jerk in many ways and this was just the latest. So she had to find a second job. And she did. At a different sub shop. Which is when the jerk at the first place fired her for working at the second place. But the manager at the new job was understanding and they gave her a lot of hours. So she was doing ok.
Then. A few weeks ago we get a knock at the door. Surprise, it was a detective! With photo's. Of our beautiful daughter with the most unsavory characters I have ~~ever~~ seen since Biggest was 15. Now it's been a long time since the police showed up concerning one of my children and the previous times I was the one who called them. I have only recently come to a place where I thought I could breathe easy. Can you feel the panic? Yeah. Me too. The detective wanted to question her about these fellas. Seems they had some questionable tattoo's that alerted someone in McDonald's to call the police. They were asked to leave the restaurant and Middlest Went With Them. They were walking down the road when they were stopped and questioned as to why they were in the area. Along with my child. They said they were just passing through and the police began keeping an eye on them. They lost track of them and they wanted to find out if Mid knew their whereabouts. What was my daughter doing associating with these people? ~~She was being an idiot~~ she was sketching them because she likes painting unusual or freaky looking people. These were not just unusual people. This girl has no common sense. Thankfully, she hadn't seen them again. Biggest and DecentGuy were both Livid. Not only because they felt responsible for her but also because she was putting them in danger by treating these people as acceptable. I reminded Biggest that she has romanticized street figures in her stories and her sister does not have the experience to tell the difference between 'regular' street and criminal. They were about fed up with her at that point but were giving her another chance. At the time we had a talk with her about what would be expected if they told her to leave and she came home. Her Dad listed her responsibilities and the rules. He pointed out that she still would not have to pay rent but would have to supply her own snacks and personal supplies. Then for some reason he randomly threw in,
"Except toilet paper. We buy it in bulk and we have plenty. So you don't have to provide your own TP."
In the end Middlest weighed the options. They were almost identical, the only differences being she paid rent with Biggest and we had an earlier weekend curfew. She decided to pay for the curfew and stay where she was. Common sense people. Seriously. I must have missed some kind of essential nutrient when I was pregnant with her. So anyway.

A few days later Middlest called to chat on her way to work. She was in a good mood. She had just cashed her paycheck, gave Biggest her rent and was looking forward to going to the store after work to get some food because she was out. Of Food. A few hours later at 7 PM I get a phone call. All I hear is sobbing. Finally I am able to make out that it's Mid and she cries,

"I lost my wallet! It Had All Of My Money In It!"

What!!!?

"I'm so hungry. I just wanted to get my food and I needed to get toilet paper! She burst into heavy sobs again. "I Dooon't haave aaannnny Toiiiiilet PaaaPerrrr!"

God has a sense of humor.

I finally got her to calm down. Then I told her, "I know that sucks honey and I'm sorry. You have to be super careful and not carry that much with you. The first thing you need to do is call the bank right away and tell them your debit card is gone before someone gets that money too." To which I received the answer, "There isn't any money in it." Yep. She cleaned out her account in two months. There wasn't a huge amount in it but there was more than enough to carry an emergency like this. So what did we do? Well the next day The SeaMonkey took her to the store and bought her some groceries- and toilet paper. Biggest gave her some of the rent money back so that she could ride the bus and have something extra in case she needed it. But she grumbled over it because Middlest had wasted her money on stuff like a new camera and unnecessary clothing items. I would remind her that Middlest did have to learn more about responsibility and appeared to be learning but just turned 18 two months ago and she shouldn't expect miracles. Over the past two weeks she has learned to live with no money and owing people on top of it. Biggest continued to call me a million times to complain about how irresponsible she was. When I talked to Middlest I would get the other side of the story and find the most likely reality somewhere in the middle.

I finally have the answers to the questions I was wondering about not long ago. No. There is no money left in that account. Yes! She dumped the Douche (Who was 21 and wasn't going to college and also had no car, no job, lived with his mother and was cheating on her). Some Good News. She likes the shift manager at her new job. Ok. She is actually dating the shift manager at her new job, (Who is 25 but has two jobs and goes to school too- !) so I don't think she will get fired anytime soon. She has learned a lot of hard lessons in a very short time. All lessons that she absolutely needed to learn and may not have if she hadn't been on her own.

Biggest called: the other day and was on a tirade about Mid and how she was always off with her friends. I said as long as she was keeping up with what was asked of her I didn't think what she did with her time was Biggests business. But she still wasn't satisfied with how she kept up with things. Middlest had mentioned what Biggest considered, 'keeping up with things.' When she was finished I called Mid and asked if she wanted to visit me after work. I offered to pick her up and came up on her from behind in the car and noticed that she getting so skinny that her skinny jeans were loose. I brought her home and her dad and I had a little chat with her.

The night before last I was reading in bed and someone came scurrying into the room and sat on the steps to my bed and snuggled their head on my arm. I asked, "What's wrong?" The sniffling answer was,

"Nothing, I just haven't been able to do this in a long time." Sniffle.

Ms. G, you know you baby that Mama's girl don't you?

Yeah. I know.

While Littlest found a whole lot of reasons to not miss Middlest she also realized she had no one to call in when she found something funny on YouTube, borrow boots from and worst of all- burst into song with.

I spent the first evening Mid was back doing something I missed: Being serenaded by an impromptu duet performance of various musical numbers from Cats, Disney and Avenue Q.

When Biggest came home and saw that Middlests' things were gone she cried.

Lessons learned.

I would like to go do my blog visiting now but I will have to catch up on my reading (AGAIN) later. My back is pretty sore and I could barely finish this. I think I need to go lay down with a heating pad.

But that's ok. I'm feeling thankful anyway.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Where'd I Go?

2011-10-30T06:10:00.000-07:00

Well. Shopping mostly. Which was great fun and I'm sure it has nothing to do with the um....'assets'? I have aquired from my blogging experience over the past two years. I also cleaned out some closets ( more on that later), including massive amounts of stuffed animals my daughters have hoarded. I let them choose what they wanted most. Middlest has her whales of course, Littlest rescued Pooh and his friends, and Biggest has a special Disney Friend that she doesn't want at her house but refuses to let me throw away. It's now hanging out in my office. Painted the inside of my house, replaced my kitchen cabinet knobs and all the door knobs ( Or my husband would say he did all that), whatever, supervision is very taxing. We are still working on refinishing the floors. We had a visit from some detectives (more on that later too). Why I was chosen to have this kind of mess follow me throughout my life I have no clue. There better be presents somewhere along the line. I attempted to get back in the habit of finding some new books to read and actually reading them with some success. This can be a difficult occupation in my house because my husband is not a big reader and doesn't get that interrupting me every five minutes is not conducive to following a story. All I can say is, Thank God For Football Season! Anyway.

I learned that blogging is indeed addictive and it took a couple days to wean myself off lurking and Stay Away! But I did so and also learned that taking a break does not necessarily clear my head for focus but might actually clear my head completely and make it hard to restart. I found that for the miniscule amount that I get accomplished in blog world I take a vast amount of time to do it and actually found myself wandering through finished work of all kinds with ample time left over. Which might also explain the shopping. Might give my husband a whole new perspective on the time I spend blogging ; ) I also learned that, rather than a blog break, what I actually needed was a real vacation. So I am taking one. In two weeks, YAY!!!! Can you feel the joy? I'm upward bound as soon as possible. Shining up my hiking stick. Giddy. Giddy. Giddy. Yep.

And last of all, Am I ready for Halloween?

Well of course I am. My new office assistant and I are ready to go.

I am well prepared. See?

What Butterfingers? I have no recollection of buying a bag of Butterfingers too......

Our credit card statements and I can't wait for me to get over and visit your blogs!
See You Soon : )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

That Was Fast

2011-10-15T16:00:00.000-07:00

I started this blog two years ago today. I'm amazed at how time has flown. When I began I had a just turned 14 year old, a just turned 16 year old and an engaged 22 year old. Now they are 16, 18 and 24 + married. Wow! My kids are growing out of my blog : ) But that's ok. When I started I was worried and frustrated with the girls and bored with my routine. Now I am worried, frustrated, and suffering from a lack of focus on any routine. I still have many stories I want to tell. I also love to read your blogs as much as I enjoy creating mine. But I need some time to gather my thoughts. So I'm giving myself a Blogcation. Not for long. Are you kidding? I'll probably be back next week. But for the moment I just want to say to those who have stopped by to read and comment and particularly those that have actually stuck around, You Guys Are The Best : )

THANK YOU FOR HUMORING ME!

It means the world to me truly : )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

It'S OCTubular

2011-10-13T04:44:00.000-07:00

Yeah. I know. I have no idea.Whatever.

I was trying to think of a title and my husband came in and told me he was going surfing. However it is Most Awesome October! The moon kind of snuck up on me this month. But it's Bitchin!

Anyway....

Biggest called.

At least three times to say she was gonna kill Middlest but so far she hasn't kicked her out.

Middlest celebrated by bringing home a flea ridden kitten she found at the bus stop. This is almost a pre-requisite to living at Biggests' house but I don't think she was expecting it. I'm not going to remind her that once the kitty litter makes it through the front door you are committed. Not to the cat. To the sister. Although she should know this because every time she wants to kill DecentGuy and move home, I ask what she is going to do with all those animals. He owes me big time for keeping his marriage intact. Oh wait. He's putting up with TWO of my daughters. hee hee.

Yeah. I know. How did he fall for this idea? Whatever was he thinking?

Maybe he should take up surfing with the SeaMonkey. Excellent place to hide. Anyway....

Littlest has been kicking butts left and right and getting stripes on her belt at Jiu Jitsu (Pardon me) BRAZILIAN JIU JITSU because apparently the world will end if you don't differentiate between the different types. She is not kicking butt in school which may mean she will be kicking her own butt which will be firmly planted on the GROUND. At Home. For quite some time if she doesn't get past worrying about breaking up with the poor boy she's been going out with and focus on school. The weekend of her birthday she came up and asked if she could go to the movies with ----. I said, 'yes' and she said she wasn't sure and I said, "You are 16 years old. GO On A Date and Have Some Fun." So she did but now he doesn't know enough about BRAZILIAN Jiu Jitsu and she doesn't know enough about playing guitar and apparently this is grounds for dating annulment.

She keeps following me around asking, "How do you break up with a boy?"

I told her I have no idea. I honestly can't remember. She would not let up and I told her to ask her dad. After all, he's a boy. He asked what was going on and I said, "Would you please tell her how to break up with someone?" To which he helpfully called out,

"I used to just tell them I was dating another girl but I don't know if you want to try that one!"

Yeah. I know : ) What a great idea. Whatever would I do without him? He So deserves to go surfing.

Anyway.....

Octubular Moon Music

UPDATE! Littlest informed me at dinner that she was giving the boy another chance because he started working out. He said he was tired of his girlfriend being stronger than him. Apparently this is cute. ; )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

I Ain't Missin Pooh At All ; )

2011-10-10T05:26:00.000-07:00

Middlest has been gone over a month. I have to say it has been strange but not as strange as I expected. You may wonder, "don't you miss her?" I have to say, No. Not really.

In my everyday life of getting through the day I actually do not miss her at all. I hardly notice she's gone except that it's quieter and cleaner around here and that doesn't seem to be concerning me. I would say that we have made a smooth and seamless transition. Part of it may be that I am very good at removing troublesome thoughts and thinking of something else. ( As I have said before, Any resemblance to my Middle Daughter is purely a coincidence and means nothing ; ) Another part may be that I seldom miss my children much when I am not with them. In the 24 years I have been a parent I have never sent my kids away. They didn't go to summer camp. I never packed them off on a trip to grandparents who lived far away. We had a lot of togetherness in our family and even with the two whole trips my husband and I took alone, up until the past couple years, I think all the time I spent away from my girls would equal less than a month. So no. I don't really miss her presence all that much.

It's also true that she isn't far away and I can see her or call her as often as I would like. That makes it easier, I guess. But I don't. I've seen her three times. I don't call her and check on her and see what she is up to and what's going on. (Biggest gives me reports) She needed to escape from mothering and do things on her own. I find it hard after so many years to break that pattern and when I talk to her it's habitual for things to slip out. Like,
"How much money do you have left in your account?" And, "Why are you still dating that douche?"

So I remain silent and aloof. I do what I do every day with hardly a ripple of change disturbing my pattern.
The answer is no. On a day to day routine basis, I do not miss Middlest.

We are having a Nor' Easter where we live. The wind is kicking up a fuss and it has been Blustery and blowing like...well wind. Really wild, out of control, gusty wind.

Middlest called.
She said, "I had to call and tell you this. Biggest is still asleep and I don't have anyone else to tell."
I braced myself. Oh Lord. What has happened. What is wrong.

Mid: I woke up this morning and I thought , "It's 'Windsday'! I feel like going outside and dancing around and shouting to everyone, It's Windsday! It's Windsday!". Like from Pooh Bear.

Me: That's because it is 'Windsday'. I thought the same thing.

Mid: Oh Good. I thought it was just me.

And that. That is when I missed her.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Getting My Grooves On

2011-10-05T05:16:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday they say, you are Forty Six!
Sometimes I'd rather they just threw some sticks

because rocks might break my hip and then I'd die of pneumonia

The years carved in my forehead, rings in the tree
The passing of years has strengthened me

unless the wind blows too hard because I'm starting to lose balance

I have obtained wisdom I would never return
To the innocent girl with a whole lot to learn

cause these knees might go with it and she had a whole lot of roller skating to do

You can also read Joy in the fine lines I wear
Written from neck line to graying hair

at least I can with some 2.75 readers

So I've tipped the balance in the middle of where
If I live to be ninety it's all down hill from there

which is good cause I'm really out of breath

I would not trade a trade a thing I've learned
I would not take back a moment I've earned

except maybe when my boobs disappeared...

And I really don't mind that I've grown to middle age
Gone through the mill I like being this page

cause even though it's been crumpled up it will smooth right out with some Olay, Right?

; )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Gotta Go!

2011-09-29T15:30:00.000-07:00

Time to travel. I knew I had a business trip but it just came a day earlier than I expected. I had planned on some sort of post before I leave but now there is no time. And this was a pretty eventful week too! But today I was given 12 hours to do 36 worth of what has to be done before I leave. If you stop by you can play in my archives or maybe visit some of the cool people in my blogroll. Oh! And next week is a very exciting week for me. I get older. My blog gets older. It Will be October!!!!!! I'll be back in a few days. Have a lovely weekend people. I will catch up with you when I get back : )

Traveling Music.....

Through No Glass Darkly

2011-09-25T16:46:00.000-07:00

It is nearly dusk. I lift my glasses like kicking a pair of tight shoes off at the end of a day. My face feels the same relief as my feet, suddenly light and unencumbered. As I lift my eyes my world becomes a Monet painting. Blurred edges and radiating light. Clumps of color and texture forming images that are recognizable but indistinct. Detail fades into light and shade. Green and greener, brown and black the oak tree limbs in their frozen game of Twister. I notice constant movement traversing the trunks. The traffic of chattering housewives stocking up for their families. A question mark standing out against a patch of blue light. The fig rustles in the wind like a dust mop shaken on a back porch. A flash of red, I know it by it's size and vibrance. No need to wait for the staccato tapping on a knot hole. Another red flash that appears to be the same size but closer in. I know this too. I don't need to see it's partner almost blended away in a a patch of dirt, a blob on the grass, to know it's species. A swooping flash of gray could be anything. But I know it by it's mocking shouts of warning. I search the ground to find the danger. A patch of color that does not grow in the garden. I find the golden victim of this outrage glowing motionless in the sun. There. Though the stripes cannot be ascertained and the tail wrapped neatly at the base does not twitch to give it away I know what it is, I think. It might just be a jug of chlorine forgotten beside the pool.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

I Didn't Write This Week

2011-09-23T04:57:00.000-07:00

I heard that sigh of relief all the way over here thank you ; )

Anyway, What have I been doing instead?

Well.

I'd like to say reading a good book. But I read a really lame one. Even more annoying, I spent money on it which I normally don't do unless I already love it. But I grabbed it anyway when it caught my eye at the grocery store even though I Know When It Says: New York Times Best Seller on it And it's At The Grocery Store there is a 90% chance it's going to be crap but all the FREE books I am hoping to read are checked out at the library and I'm on a waiting list so....I'm not going to say what book it was because the day I write a great novel I might have some ground to criticize.

Let's just say you could question the quality when you are so involved you stop reading in the middle of a paragraph in a Suspense Novel because you find an advertisement in the middle of the book and read it instead to see if it's one of those Free Books but then we keep sending you more to pay for scams...and it is...yeah....

I'm sure it has nothing to do with my Internet going out for a couple hours and being bored and noticing, Hey, this computer has some games on it with free trials and trying something called Black Hawk Striker 2 and becoming hopelessly addicted to it and after the internet is back up, paying for something called Wildcoins to continue to play it because Ms. G. likes to shoot at things and blow stuff up. Come on now. Be Serious.

I have no idea who the person on the high score list called MOM is.......a total stranger .... maybe.... but her score actually moved up two slots last night after she defeated level 3 and she changed her name to The Mom. I forgot to update the picture before I ~~she~~ someone turned it off....

Perhaps I was inspired, because though I love my middle daughter, I was so pleased that when she moved she actually got all that mess of hers out of here and the absence of her stuff spread through every room in the house and the energy consumed in nagging her about it, galvanized me into action and I not only gutted 5 trash bags worth of crap I'd been hoarding in some cabinets, my entire house has been dusted, vacuumed, mopped, polished and scrubbed, including base boards, bed made and laundry caught up, Every. Day.

Oh Yes I Did!

Of course when I looked in the hall closet.....

I realized by the stack of boxes shoved in that she didn't actually get Everything out of here and left behind this special box of treasures for safekeeping.

No. I didn't write a post even though I've been working from home this week and going to great lengths to not actually get dressed and leave the house, but I did spend some time in the yard.

Look what my husband found.

Isn't that just the cutest thing?

I Did Not Say Aww! Can We Keep Him?...maybe...

i named him ed

Did we then carefully place him on the edge of the woods and stand over him for fifteen minutes waiting for him to move and discuss how worried we were about him and we hoped nothing would eat him and that he would have a long happy life and grow up to be a big strong turtle and start his own turtle family?
What do you think? ; )

Last of all it would not be a Ms. G random picture post without some FUNGI!!!

This is one of those times when I wish I was a better photographer or had a better camera

The rain left me this precious tiny gift. I don't think I've ever found one is this pale yellow shade before. It makes me think of a fancy yellow party skirt. It was tiny and fragile as tissue paper and wilted away before noon. But there were some new ones this morning : )

We also celebrated my sweet SeaMonkeys birthday! I can't show any pictures from that but he wasn't thrilled and said he was getting old. I told him he was getting just right because I'm coming up right behind him so he will always be just the right age for me. He said that made it worth it and I say, That's why I keep him : ) That and he shares his birthday brownies with me.

See Ya Later...!

~~I have some aliens to blow up~~ Important paperwork to do.

Wandering off in the middle of typing to eat a brownie now........

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Life Is But A Dream

2011-09-16T06:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we are given little gifts in this life. Tiny stitches looped far apart are pulled together and the fabric of our lives gathers around us in a snug finished piece. A gift homemade with memories and still warm from the arms of a loved one, pressed into our hand as we say goodbye as a token to remember them by.

My mother loved a sing along. My closest brother in age was nine years older than me and the brother that I lived with at home the longest. We were the ones who sang. A recurrent theme through my childhood was my mother asking us to sing for her and with her. And we did. From my earliest memories I can see her, mostly in the kitchen, dancing and singing away. Old songs, War songs, Children's songs, Silly songs most of all. When I was still very young, I remember her stopping and saying to me, "Come on, I'll teach you to sing a round." "Sing, Row Row Row Your Boat", she instructed. I began and shortly after she followed. It took me awhile to get it. But before I knew it we were singing a round and having a grand time. The first of many times we would do so. Any chance she got she would ask me to 'round' Row Your Boat, with her. No matter how old I was I never tired of hearing her repertoire and joining in too as we would happily

Row Row Row...

September 2008
She never had any idea who we were when we visited but she was always happy to see us. She was eighty years old. She would smile and chat nonsense with all of her social graces intact. She had come to the point where most of the time it was a string of words rather than actual sentences. But one day, when I came in she was sitting motionless in a chair. Lethargic. This was unusual. I braced myself for reaching the next level. It was just so sudden. Then the nurse called me over and told me she had been getting ready to contact us. Something was wrong. Physically. This was the cause of the change, not the Alzheimer's. After tests were done we found she was having internal bleeding from the colon. My mother had a "No Heroic Measures" Directive but the gastrointerologist said they would check it out. There was no cancer. A small tear. It was repaired. It went very well they said. No problem but they couldn't be sure it wouldn't happen again. But when I visited her back at the nursing home the next day, she was lying in bed and did not wake at all during my visit. She was so pale and still. You could barely see her breath rise and fall. Her arm was swollen. The skin stretched tight. She had developed a blood clot. She was being given blood thinner but we were told to be prepared. I realized then I might never see her up again. Might possibly never see her open her eyes. It could be over at any time. They told my brother he needed to sign some papers. Even with my mothers instructions already in place they wanted back up paperwork showing that the directives were understood by the family. I could tell he did not not like this job. All I could do was be there with him for support.

The next morning I met with my brother in the lobby. After he finished the paperwork we climbed on the elevator to go check on our mom. At the end of the hall I entered the room, expecting to see my mother lying there, much like the day before. There was no one in the room. Panic immediately set in. I turned to my brother, "She's not here!" Where is our mother? We hurried down the hall to the nurses station with frightened thoughts flashing through my brain. Had it already happened? Did they forget to tell us? What did they do with our mom?

"Mrs. --?, said the attendant, she's right over there in the common room, we got her up today."

You What?

I turned and my eyes frantically searched the room. There she was. My brother and I looked at each other in confusion and disbelief. What the heck was going on here? Our mother was dangerously ill.

"Hey mom", we came to see you". She seemed perfectly fine physically. There was no swelling visible in her arm at all. The clot was not there. I don't know who we were that day, but she was glad we came. Her bright blue eyes were shining and clear. Her smile quick. We did the usual, asking how she was, telling her what was going on with us and she answered politely even though she had no idea what we were talking about. Her hair was a mess. My mother was always extremely picky about her hair and I couldn't stand to see it that way, knowing how upset she would have been if she was aware of it. I stood, pulling my brush out of my bag to try to smooth it down. She loved having her hair brushed and now she did as she always had, closing her eyes and leaning her head back to enjoy it. My brother and I kept exchanging glances of bewilderment.
This was an Alzheimer's unit and the elderly people who were still mobile began to congregate near the front of the room where a young woman with a camp counselor voice boomed out that it was time for everyone to gather around. My mother was distracted from our visit. It had been a very long time since I had seen the mother I loved and the woman who was my dear friend. She had been confused, sometimes incoherent, angry, in tears, like a child and serenely polite, but never my mom anymore.
My brother and I whispered that it would be a good time to go. We both had kids to pick up from school soon. The camp counselor for the aged called out in a rousing tone, come on everyone, it's time for sing along! My mother looked toward the others lined up in their chairs ready to clap and sing. Her eyes lit up and she smiled, " Oh Boy!" We told her, "I guess we will go now, mom. You go have fun." She turned to us her eyes alight, No, you don't have to go yet do you? Come on! You sing too! I flashed through the years to our old kitchen. "Come on. You sing too." My brother and I shrugged and sat back down. Just like a preschool class the gray haired children around us clapped their hands and raised their voices. Children's songs. They all still knew the words. "Okay, it's time for Row Your Boat" their leader cried.
I watched my brother, the one who all our lives had been lively and musical and full of fun. I watched him change from the posture of stress and sadness, and grin. My mother sang, she tapped her feet. We laughed. We sang. Loud and clear we joined the boisterous choir rowing in our chairs. We rowed along our mirth and our mothers joy and memories and miracles.

Merrily Merrily Merrily......

It was time to go. "You have to go now?" my mother asked politely but cheerfully as we rose. "Yes. Do you want to move up closer to the others?" "No. I'm fine here." Hugs and kisses. I love you. I love you. I love you too. I will see you soon. She forgot we were there before we even reached the end of the room. We got on the elevator and as we waited for the doors to close, I turned to watch my mother. Framed in the opening, she sat erect in her straight back chair. For a moment she frowned, rubbing her hands together nervously. She looked lost. I felt as strong a pull as I have ever felt in my life. I want to go back. I want to stay. I want my mother. The doors began to close and I almost reached to push the button and get off again but at that moment the next song began and she perked up with a smile. As the doors closed over my view she once again began to sing along. I decided to let it be. We had a nice afternoon. And my children would be waiting soon, for their mother.
It had been a very long time since the three of us sang together. I have no clear memory of how the room around us looked. It was full of people who are a background blur. I hear the voices. Like when we were children, our world in that hour revolved around our mother. We sang with our mother that day. We had a good time with her. Best of all, so did she.

When we reached the parking lot my brother and I were fit to be tied. She was doing great! We were totally confused. We could not believe what had just happened. He would need to call the doctors and see what was going on. "I don't know what to do," he said. Our sister had moved to England and had already purchased her plane tickets to hurry home and see our mom. "I don't think she can get a refund, he said, and I don't know whether she should still come back now or wait." I didn't know either. But it looked like maybe we had all been granted a reprieve. We had certainly been granted a lovely visit with mom. My sister decided to come home anyway in the end. That was good. I was glad she did. Perhaps my mother could sense somehow that all of her children were close by. Because in the middle of the next night, shortly after my sisters plane landed , with barely a ripple my mother peacefully drifted away in her dreams.

Gently down the stream.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Something's Missing...Happens When There Is A Screw Loose Somewhere

2011-09-12T04:29:00.000-07:00

So. Middlest had her Wisdom teeth taken out. I always thought that meant just extracting some extra teeth but I'm starting to wonder.

She no longer had coverage so we paid for it. It Was Very Expensive. She came home and lay around on the couch and acted like she was dying and left messes wherever she roamed. Middlest is messy. Not just a little messy. I've given her a break about on my blog so far but she is Ridiculous messy. No threat or punishment has ever curbed it.

When she grew up a couple weeks ago she was told our house rules for adults. Keep your room clean. Pick up after yourself around the house. We will let you ease into the next level. At our house if you choose to skip the extended childhood option and not continue your education, you are expected to take on all of your own living expenses. We told her to continue to keep up her end of the chores around here and we would pay for her phone for awhile and she didn't have to pay rent-YET, so that she could continue to save money. We live in biking distance of her job and she could do that till she had enough for a car. Just don't be a slob and we are all good.
The day after her surgery she was lying around on the couch all day watching TV and dying behind a landfill on the coffee table. I didn't harass her because I knew she wasn't feeling great. Her pain pills kicked in and she decided she felt better. And her friend was having a party that night. So she was going to go. I mentioned that she was supposed to take it easy. She said she was going crazy and needed to get out. Ok. "If you have problems with healing you are on your own."

Later her dad came in and when he went to her room to tell her to pick up the empty pudding cup and spoon he found on the table in the entryway she was not there. Her room, however, was. And so was the two feet of crap thrown all over the floor and a collection of dirty glasses, etc, etc. When I told him she went to a party he went a little ballistic. Because you see, she was dying and couldn't clean up but she was up for a party. Not to mention, not following the dentists orders after we paid for it. So he gave her a call and said as much. He told her if she couldn't have the courtesy to take proper care of herself after we spent a fortune on her mouth to help her and couldn't even be bothered to pick up after herself she needed to move out.

And she said, 'fine' and he said, 'fine' and she said, 'fine' and he said 'fine' and then....

Biggest called.

She said, "What is going on here? I want to hear the whole story before I make up my mind!"

So I told her. And she said: "She can live with us if she wants but I told her if she wanted to we need to talk now and she started telling me she was at a party and didn't want to leave and I told her we would pick her up and would talk about it Now or Not At All. So, she said that was fine and we are picking her up. I don't know if she realizes what I will expect but she will soon"
She told Mid:
You WILL pick up after yourself.
You WILL help with household cleaning.
You WILL scrub your room before you leave. You aren't leaving Mom and Dad with that mess.
You WILL NOT have anyone over after ten.
You WILL NOT have anyone in my house when we are not here.
You WILL learn to take the bus.
You WILL look for a second job because you don't make enough to get by.
You WILL contribute to groceries and be responsible for your own extras. And..
You WILL pay $100.00 a month in rent-to start.

"Or You Are Out. The End. No Excuses because I don't put up with any crap and I will throw you out!"

And Mid said, "ok"

?....????????????????

She came home the next day and cleaned the room. (Which is what we wanted to begin with) and packed her stuff and moved in with Biggest and DecentGuy.

So now she is paying rent to have the same rules she had here plus a few and be farther away from work.
Not to mention she has to live with Biggest who is an insane neatness freak and makes their Dad look like ...I don't know...a bunny?.... when it comes to enforcement. She also doesn't have cable tv or internet.

The SeaMonkey said,
"I didn't mean she Had to move out. All she had to do was clean her room."
Littlest said,
"Awesome! I don't have to look at her mess anymore and she won't eat all the food before I get any!"

I said.....ok......

Conversations with my daughters over the past week.

Biggest: I have an eight year old with the priviliges of an 18 year old living in my house.
             She really doesn't get it.
             Are you sure there isn't something wrong with her? (No)
             We put fresh batteries in our smoke alarms. (Good Thinking)
            We were outside and I was giving her advice and she didn't hear any of it. She just sat there
              and stared at the moon.

Me: I told you so.

Middlest: I love it here! I can see dolphins.
               I painted my room green!
               I bought candles!
               We sat outside and watched the moon : )

Me: Did you get a chance to come by today and use the computer like you wanted?

Mid: No. Biggest made me stay here all day and clean.

Littlest: Look! There is still a whole box of cereal!! Hey! I can watch whatever I want on TV!

Me: Don't get too happy. Now we have no one else to focus on but you.

Lit: I give it a week, maybe two, until Biggest sends her back.

We shall see. Of course I really shouldn't be surprised. Afterall, I saw it coming.
Middlest moving out? No, not that............

                                                                                                                                                    © 2011 All Rights Reserved

Moon Music

(We seem to be starting a theme within a theme here)

For those of you that don't speak Byrne:

Watch out you might get what you're after
Cool babies strange but not a stranger
I'm an ordinary guy
Burning down the house

Hold tight wait till the party's over
Hold tight We're in for nasty weather
There has got to be a way
Burning down the house

Here's your ticket pack your bag: time for jumpin' overboard
The transportation is here
Close enough but not too far, Maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire

All wet hey you might need a raincoat
Shakedown dreams walking in broad daylight
Three hun-dred six-ty five de-grees
Burning down the house

It was once upon a place sometimes I listen to myself
Gonna come in first place
People on their way to work baby what did you except
Gonna burst into flame

My house S'out of the ordinary
That's right Don't want to hurt nobody
Some things sure can sweep me off my feet
Burning down the house

No visible means of support and you have not seen nuthin' yet
Everything's stuck together
I don't know what you expect starring into the TV set
Fighting fire with fire

Burning down the house

Whoa.......Where did all these spoons in the silverware drawer come from.........?

UPDATE: 9:00 AM Mid just called me and said she was coming by today. She needed to pick up her bike and her Social Security card...oh....and have a bowl of cereal....

A Silent Unmarked Sky

2011-09-11T06:28:00.000-07:00

This post can be found on my other blog. Service Unavailable Error 503.

MOMDROID

2011-09-07T04:45:00.000-07:00

Before she even planned on having children she knew exactly how they should be raised. The moment she found out she was pregnant she knew what to do. First of all she should be a stay at home mom. She read everything she could get her hands on. Before she felt the first kick she knew that breast feeding was the only way to go. She knew when to start solids and sippy cups. She knew how to safely set up a crib and that the best nursery decorations were a soothing cream and peach with a very tasteful Peter Rabbit theme complete with Beatrix Potter Bumper pads. She knew the safest way for the baby to sleep. She knew natural childbirth classes were a must but that an epidural was what she wanted. Best of both worlds.
Her day was planned perfectly with each activity in its own time slot. Her babies wore soft gowns washed in Ivory soap and bathed in the safest infant tub followed by careful massage with lotion and a sprinkle of fresh cornstarch-because baby powder was dangerous. She held them. She sang to them. She did everything she was supposed to do. Her life revolved around her little ones. They were perfect.

Have you met her?

She was always well groomed.
Roots never showing. Makeup done. Always dressed right for the occasion. Her husband was handsome and they really loved each other. He does well in business and everything they touch turns to gold. She drove a shiny big Limited Edition SUV in the latest model. They live in a big house they renovated themselves in a wonderful neighborhood. Kept clean and carefully ~~OCD~~ organized. The walls hung with original art by family members. It is decorated in an eclectic style that always receives compliments. She designed it herself.

Have you seen her?

Her children had limited television and mostly educational programs. Disney movies and worthwhile classics were fine as a treat. She dressed her kids in carefully coordinated, classic outfits of good quality. Cute plaid skirts and knit tops. Outside play was expected everyday because fresh air and exercise are good for them. They had the coolest outdoor playset in the neighborhood. Creative indoor play is also encouraged. Building sets, arts and crafts. She bought her children mostly educational toys and old fashioned playthings to pique their imaginations. She read to them every day.

She packed homemade well rounded lunches with 100% juice and an ice pack to keep food temperature safe. She left notes in them. She cooked every night and always included vegetables and made sure they had fruit available. She did not buy junk food and refused to buy brightly colored sugary cereals. Her children snacked on carrots because they liked to.

They sat down to dinner as a family every night.

They took cool family vacations where they did things like hiking and camping and kayaking together.
They were perfect.

Do you know her?

When it was time for school she found the 'best pre-school.' A very small Christian school that those 'in the know' frequent. She arranged playdates. She always reciprocated. She planned special birthday parties.
When they started elementary school she knew what teachers to request even though it was against the rules and knew she would get them because she was in the loop. She never missed open house and had meetings with the teachers. When it was time she had her children tested for the gifted program. They were accepted of course. They studied hard. They always had their homework and she spent hours helping and checking their work. She encouraged them to think, to imagine, to know that they could be anything they wanted to be. When they showed a special interest in something she went out of her way to give then every opportunity to explore it. She carefully balanced time for study and play so that everyone was well rounded.
She volunteered at school. Baked cookies. Helped with class parties. Read aloud in the classrooms. She belonged to the PTA and helped with fund raisers and would send in something for events but the planning committee for that wasn't really her thing, so she chose to participate as a board member on a separate Advisory Counsel for important issues like school budget spending and curriculum. ( ok, she refused to be a sheep and sometimes voted against the grain on purpose when she thought it was being fixed ) anyway..

They were involved in sports because it teaches kids teamwork and responsibility as well as being fun and healthy. They never missed practice. She went to every game. Her husband helped coach. She never forgot snack. When they showed an interest in music lessons were provided. She went to every concert. Art supplies were always in stock and creativity encouraged. She let them paint pictures on the walls in their rooms. An artistic impulse should not be thwarted. Damn resale value. A little bit of freedom. A touch of individuality.
Perfect.

Do you like her?

They attended church every Sunday. The kids were in Sunday School. They participated in Christmas Pageants and youth activities. She made sure they attended instruction to be confirmed. She fed the homeless at the local shelter. Her kids were taught compassion. They were taught to treat all people with respect. They talked about their faith at home too, didn't just leave it to Sundays.

Two years before each child began Middle School began she would carefully research. She included the children in looking at the choices, making sure it was what they wanted. Then meticulously made sure they had all the resources they needed to accomplish these goals. They did. They were shining stars. They excelled. They had friends. Things were going perfect.

She was careful with what they read. What they watched. What they wore. She knew who their friends were. She knew where they were. She had strict but fair guidelines on what was age appropriate. She carefully tried to balance her value system with what the children encountered and wanted in order to fit in and gave careful and educated thought to what was best. She paid attention. She talked. She listened.

In every situation she knew exactly what to do.

Do you recognize her?

Then one day she didn't know what to do anymore.

When she looked around she realized that a line had been there all along. She had all the trappings of being on the other side of that line but in fact she had never crossed it. She had actually stood a few feet back from it because she recognized this deep inside. And the world outside her family did too. Which was why she had never become comfortable with the other side of that line and remained standoffish. And the world around her did too. ( So she said screw it. I can't stand these people anyway.)When she turned away they never even noticed. It was like she had never been there. She realized then for sure that she never had.

She was functioning on how she thought things were supposed to be. She thought if she followed the instructions carefully things would run perfectly. It fell apart. It wasn't real. It couldn't be programmed. She was only human.

Life isn't perfect.

And real life had just come up and slapped the crap out of her.

She used to be me.

I like her much better now. Her husband is still handsome and they still love each other. Her kids are compassionate. Her closets are all still organized by style and color but most of the clothes are in a laundry basket somewhere.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Sweet Pea Soup

2011-09-02T05:53:00.000-07:00

My Sweet Pea is Sixteen. Once again, how did this happen? I call Littlest my star. She is one. She completed my universe. The Sun the Moon the Star. My daughters. I also call her my Sweet Pea. My Curmudgeon. Old soul. Gentle heart. Tough cookie. I try to find a word that truly describes her. The closest I can come up with is Complicated.

She has so many ingredients that it seems like they would clash. Sweet and sour like her favorite Asian foods. A complex creation that creates a perfect blend.

My quirky kid who has big goals. The one who melts into a puddle of mush when confronted with babies but spends an hour a day punching a bag. The one who sings like an angel and has awesome biceps. The one who bakes cakes and plans to serve her country in the military. The one who is a wonderful writer and talented artist and wants to be a psychiatrist.
The one that sparkles even though she would hide behind a cloud. The child who absorbs the pain she sees around her and has such empathy for those who are hurting or victims of injustice that the feeling sometimes overwhelms her. And thinks 'people suck'.

The one who cries easily when she is angry or very stressed. The one who is immovable when she sets her mind. The kid who cried her eyes out when she transferred schools last year because they couldn't get her schedule straight. The one who this year came home ranting because due to a scheduling glitch the school put her in Honors English instead of AP Language Arts and that the girl next to her didn't know what a simile was and hadn't read a book all summer and said "reading was stupid"! And when the school still hadn't fixed her schedule by Thursday parked herself in the Guidance Office and refused to move till they fixed it. And they did. Even the school cowered before her. As soon as they realized this tiny person who is cute as a button would not be given the run around and is packed with a steel will.
Good Job Sweet Pea I'm Proud of you!

The one who loves to watch UFC and Project Runway but mostly Dr. Who. The one who drove me nuts reading Manga crap for years but read and loved East of Eden and The Good Earth this summer!! Yay!!

She is a fighter. She fought for life when she was born. She came out swinging and has never stopped since.
Except when she sees babies or puppies or kittens........

So is she the sweet child who gives me hugs and bakes me brownies or the kid who makes me want to bang my head against a brick wall because she is so stubborn?
Both of course. Because she's complicated.

Happy Sweet Pea Sixteen!!! because I know that's your favorite nickname... ; )

For the one who says,

"Big Deal. I'm still only sixteen"

Yes. It's A Big Deal! And I still haven't figured out how to make a cake that looks like a Tardis but I'm trying. I might need your help.

Always hard to find the perfect song for you but I thought this would do.

Oh, and how was Language Arts today?

Happy Birthday Littlest. I would try to explain all the ways I love you but it would be way too complex and complicated. I know you know, I do.
Even though when I said it this morning you proclaimed it, "Lies! All Lies!!" ; )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Wrapping Up Summer

2011-08-25T16:55:00.000-07:00

But only in a lightweight shawl because it's still 95 degrees here.

We have reached the end of another summer and this week was the beginning of our 19th consecutive school year. When I think of that it blows my mind. I have been doing this for a looong time. What's really strange is only getting one child ready for school. The biggest change since the 'awesome' two years I had 3 kids in 3 different schools. I was thrilled when that was over and I have to say I will be thrilled in 2013 when I never have to do this again. And yes, I mean that. : )If even one of my kids had been excited about being there I might feel differently. As it is the youngest regularly states that she is ready for high school to be over so she can move on with her life. Ditto.

So, how are we ending our summer....?

Biggest called. She said:

"Decent Guy and I went to- 'the historical town nearby'. We wanted to go for a quiet nighttime bike ride. It was horrible! The place was crawling with packs of juvenile delinquents roaming the streets and drunks pouring out of the bars. It was ridiculous! It used to be such a quiet, peaceful place! Now it's out of control. We went down the street where 'a landmark cemetary' is and it used to be a nice ride. Now they have some bar right next to it blaring techno music! It was disgusting! It's disrespectful! The whole place was full of drunks and punk ass teenagers and the cops aren't doing anything! and more....and more.....

I said:

"You are completely right! That is ridiculous! You just put it very well. As a visitor you should let the city know how you feel. They depend on tourism. You should write a letter to the City Council, their local Newspaper and their Chamber of Commerce!... I'm not laughing. What do you mean laughing?
Why would I be laughing? No I'm not.... ; )"

Middlest finally wore me out. She applied to a few different colleges. Dithered..procrastinated...hemmed and hawed. Then she decided not to go anywhere and to postpone school for awhile and work full time at the sub shop she's been working at since November and do art festivals. Yeah. Ok....I surrender. But. Her ideas for her future career took an interesting and actually very appropriate twist. She isn't old enough to do what she's interested in yet and I decided not to blog about it yet because every time I post about something that I think is great and I think it will go well, it immediately falls apart. (Digression)- As witnessed by Americas Got Talent sending home one of the best performers ever on the show in favor of a dance troupe who were very talented - exactly like the other half dozen dance troups this year with the exception that they were dressed like zombies. Really? REALLY????
So anyway, more on Mids new idea next year if she follows through. In the meantime... a nearby college sent her a welcome letter for her enrollment and a Parking Pass yesterday. I told her it was a sign. "Apparently God enrolled you in college so you better call and find out what classes he signed you up for."
"Oh, and he wants you to get a drivers license."

This is a year for landmark birthdays at our house and Littlest will be ending the summer by turning 16 next week. She already has her gifts in the form of a heavy bag, gloves and shin guards and it has been determined that a big Sweet Sixteen party is not on the agenda. Her scraped knuckles and bruised shins will not be accessorizing any formal gowns and that is fine with her because as she says, "I don't actually like any of my friends anyway." Which is interesting because this morning she was commenting on three different groups of friends she has been dividing her time with. She stopped for a moment and pondered, "When exactly did I become a social butterfly?" When indeed.
And when exactly are you getting your drivers license?

Cause I'm as over being a taxi as I am high school. She doesn't even have a learners permit yet. But there's hope. After all, Middlest at least got her learners permit... two years ago.

And what about my goals? What have I accomplished this summer?

I did not clean out the closet under the stairs. I did not do any gardening. (Magic pumpkin vines not withstanding) I did not read as many books as I wanted to. I did not get much of a tan. I did not go on vacation (Again) but I also did not bring home any giant dogs to make up for it.
And last but not least, I obviously did not teach anyone to drive.

So for now,

TheSeaMonkey is beside himself with joy because he has a brand new surfboard and something to ride it on but I am feeling thankful that it appears (so far) I will not be eating canned beans by flashlight and awaiting the arrival of a free skylight on my roof this week. But my thoughts and prayers go out to all those that may find themselves in that predicament in the next few days.

I still have a week of August to get through and even longer until it feels like summer is actually gone but I am ready to get the hell out of here now. Let's send it out with MacNeice.

August is nearly over, the people
Back from holiday are tanned
With blistered thumbs and a wallet of snaps and a little
Joie de vivre which is contraband;
Whose stamina is enough to face the annual
Wait for the annual spree,
Whose memories are stamped with specks of sunshine
Like faded fleurs de lys.
Now the till and the typewriter call the fingers,
The workman gathers his tools
For the eight-hour day but after that the solace
Of films or football pools
Or of the gossip or cuddle, the moments of self-glory
Or self-indulgence, blinkers on the eyes of doubt,
The blue smoke rising and the brown lace sinking
In the empty glass of stout.
Most are accepters, born and bred to harness,
And take things as they come,
But some refusing harness and more who are refused it
Would pray that another and a better Kingdom
come,
Which now is sketched in the air or travestied in slogans
Written in chalk or tar on stucco or plaster-board

- Louis MacNeice, "Autumn Journal" 1939

Who Are You?

2011-08-20T07:30:00.000-07:00

She was the mother of my mothers half sister. The woman my mother was named for in a moment of kindness. My grandmothers generosity to her young stepdaughter still astounds me.

The first time I went to upstate New York, in my twenties, I called my mom and told her how beautiful I thought it was. She said that she knew. Her sister used to take her camping. She took her canoeing. My mom camping? Paddling a canoe? She never told me this before. I remember being told that after my grandparents married they moved to New York to be with the children my grandfather had left behind. My mother lived in Brooklyn for several years before they moved back here. After the older boy and girl were well grown. I look out for the lake as my husband and I travel. I feel excited as we approach, like I am visiting a well loved and missed location. As we pass the lakes I imagine my mom for a moment. A tall and skinny girl of ten, top heavy with thick hair. Her grown sister paddling them along the water free and happy. My mom said her half sister seemed happy there. She wasn't usually happy. She was an alcoholic like their father. She died young, like her mother. My mom always told me I look a lot like her..
I imagined her mother, my grandfathers first wife, as a delicate invalid. She died so young she must have had a congenital problem of some sort, I thought. I saw her in floaty lace shifts drifting through her day. Touching her daughters head gently before collapsing to her bed in the afternoon for a rest.

My half cousin sat in my mothers house with a stack of photo's. Old black and whites. My mom as a young woman. My grandmother. Many pictures of people I never met, my grandfather, her mother and father and then last, a tall young woman. It is an outdoor scene in soft tones of varying grays. From the nineteen twenties. Her hair is dark and thick. Cut in a chin length bob full with rich waves. She is wearing a mans shirt and pants! The pants legs shoved into heavy boots. One leg is slightly raised, bent at the knee and a shotgun stock rests against her hip. The double barrel pointing skyward casually in her grip. Her torso is bisected by a side slung shell belt, shoulder to waist, fully loaded. She faces the camera dead straight her expression forthright with a hint of challenge. Just the faintest touch of humor sparks at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She looks strong and healthy and jubilant. Fiery. I feel an instant tug of recognition. The kind that draws you to others and makes you wish to claim them.
Who is this wonderful woman? This strong rebellious nature in our past?
"This", says my half cousin, " is my grandmother, my mothers mom."
My grandfathers first wife.
My heart sinks. She isn't related to me at all.
I feel like something was snatched away from me.
I wish she were mine.

My parents weren't storytellers. My dad remained close mouthed. Facts would drop out of my mother like accidents. Slips of paper snatched by wind out of a notebook. I think I was probably nine when she said, "I learned to roller skate when I was living in New York with my sister D. My brother H bought them for me for Christmas."

"When you were living where? With WHO?

My family history is like a filing cabinet full of Missing Persons Reports.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Please Pass the Nitroglycerin

2011-08-17T17:45:00.000-07:00

This morning my husband got up earlier than me and left to work on one of our projects. I woke up a little later and did my usual cup of tea and check my blog and looked at my company bills. I did a little straightening up. Littlest was awake and I had promised to take her school shopping. It seemed strange to not be shopping for both of them and I thought I'd ask Mid to come along just for old times sake. About 8:30 and I popped into her room and called out, "Do you want to go with us today?" Nothing. She Was Not There. It was possible we had missed crossing paths so I yelled out her name. Nothing. I checked the porch. Nothing. I went back in her room. Her comforter was draped over her desk chair. The last place I saw her was at her desk last night around 10:30. Her bag was open on her bed. Pens and crumpled papers littered her sheets. This was not unusual. But her wallet was on the floor. I opened it. There was no ID and no money. That was unusual. I called up to Lit. Have you seen your sister? No. When did you see her last? Last night. Lit asks, "Is her bike here?" Good question. I run out to the shed in my pajama's, certain that it would be gone and that she had undertaken some foolish journey in the middle of the night. Recently she dropped her MP3 player after work and had tried to ride up to look for it at 12:30 at night. On that occasion Littlest put her in a headlock and when she made a break for it she followed her out and locked her in the shed. Sometimes it's nice to have Littlest around because I don't lose much sleep. But Mid wasn't 18 yet when that happened. We don't have the power to tell her what to do but I do expect the respect of letting me know where she is and if she won't be home if she is living here. We were both puzzled. I start calling her phone. No answer. Someone had to have picked her up. But who? Dial- No answer. Sometimes she likes to wander outside at night. I have asked her not to because it is so secluded and random strangers have a habit of parking and partying at the end of the road. What if some creep grabbed her? Dial-No answer. What if that new guy she just met and barely knows and that I think is a Total Loser picked her up and has done something to her? Dial-No answer. What if she was hit by a car? Dial-No answer.What if she slipped out to a late party? Dial-no answer. I'll kill her! How could she be so stupid! Dial-No answer. But what if she got wasted and violated and murdered or killed in a car accident? Dial- No answer. Oh God, she's 18 now! I can't even report her missing for 24 hours! Dial-No answer. I don't want to call my husband because he is working on an important project and I don't want to get him all upset if she's just at a friends or something and didn't leave a note. I'll kill her! Dial-No answer. But I will have to tell him if I don't find her soon because something might have happened to her. Dial-No answer. "Lit, hack her FaceBook, see if there are any clues. I'm going to check our cell phone website and see what numbers she has contacted." Dial-No answer. My heart is racing a thousand miles an hour and my mind is racing between panic and enraged. I'm not sure which to pick. Dial-Answer. "Hello?" Enraged, ok that's the one. I said a lot of Really Bad words within my inquiry into where the bleepity bleeping bleep she was. She Laughed. SHE WHAT? She bleepity bleeping thought it was bleeping FUNNY? She laughed again. I hear a GUY laughing too. Hello Space Station? That strange reading you just picked up was my blood pressure! Oh, you DO think it's funny?!

"Yes. Dads laughing too. We just came out to the car and I told him I have 12 missed phone calls from you. You were pissed. "

You think?

Apparently it occurred to my husband that he could use a hand on this job today and she is old enough to work for us now and she needed to make more money. So. She was working for us. That way I didn't have to be on site today. Wasn't that nice. And they both forgot to tell me.

They were both bleepity bleeping A#$holes

It doesn't matter how old they are. A certain day may make you a legal adult but it doesn't make you any less someones child. At least to your mom. I'm in this for life. Right up until the moment they finally kill me.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

And She Was.

2011-08-13T05:42:00.000-07:00

You are of course the prettiest, sweetest, smartest, strongest baby on earth
and we love you very much.

The Middlest Baby Book, August 1993

My Moonbeam. Is. All. Grown. Up. When Middlest was very small she asked if she could sleep with the moon in her bed. Being nothing if not indulgent parents we set about to take care of that. I drew a template on poster board. Her dad bought wood and we traced the crescent moon and he sawed the piece. 1/2 inch pine. None of that flimsy pressed board for my baby. I bought glow in the dark paint and covered the piece thoroughly. You can always see the moon in Middlests room.
My Mid
How appropriate that your moment of rising to adulthood coincides with the rising of a spotlight. The moon full of itself and glowing in all her glory just for You. I am sure of it. The gentle light reflects your gentle nature. Why just look at these definitions I found for 'mooning' in my editor dictionary.

Behave or move in a listless and aimless manner
lying in bed eating candy, mooning around
Act in a dreamily infatuated manner

of course we won't count that other definition of mooning because I know you would never do that. Well..at least not since you turned 5...and only once in a McDonalds play maze...that I know of...but anyway.....

Happy 18th Birthday to My Middlest- My Moonlight. Because my Moonshine don't sound quite right ; )

I know you will light your own path. I know that when you seem like you have nothing left at all that you will regenerate and come back again. I have seen it over and over. Now it is time to let go. You can't really hold the moon on earth can you? It has to rise and fall on it's own. It has to grow in its own time and if it loses some of itself along the way there is nothing to prevent it. It has its own magic and always returns to the fullness of being. It always shines through the darkness. And it's very likely that it is Swiss Cheese. Or can live on Swiss Cheese...or something like that.....
I LOVE YOU. And thank you for deciding to put put that damn tattoo where I will never see it unless you're in a bikini and I'm glad that at least it's that beautiful orca you drew and not a skull or something. ok.? still hope you chicken out....

There comes a time when these things are out of our hands. These moments are starting to rush up on me. This is now out of my control. Breathe deep. It's time to step back and just watch her rise on her own.

She can't be Grounded anymore.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Twisting the meaning just a bit to suit ourselves but..

Middlest Moon Music.

Test Your Vacuum Cleaner Savvy!!!!!

2011-08-10T06:38:00.000-07:00

Are you a savvy vaccumer? Are you conscious of the role your vaccum plays in your life? A vacuum cleaner has myriad ~~excuses~~ uses. If you learn the rules of proper vacuum ~~excuse~~ use
you may even find ~~you never have to use one again~~ they come in handy for more than just carpets.

Here is a little quiz to test your vaccum savvy.

1. When you wash a floor mat without bothering to shake it out and then realize you have dog hair in the washer, the most efficient way to clean it is:

A. A damp cloth.

B. Your husbands sock

C. Duct tape

D. A vacuum cleaner

2. When your children insist on leaving tiny toys throughout the house the best way to teach them to pick up after themselves is:

A. Call them over immediately to put their things away.

B. Sit down and build your own spaceship or look around for Barbie to see if this shoe works
with her current ensemble.

C. Leave it there and ignore it until you step on it barefoot and then yell out a curse word.

D. The vacuum Cleaner

3. It is time to empty the canister/bag. You______:

A. Spread newspaper and slowly tilt into the trash to avoid dust.

B. Would rather eat cake than empty the vacuum cleaner

C. Would rather eat dirt than empty the vacuum.

D. Throw away the vacuum cleaner.

4. When your back is in a spasm and your shoulder is cramped, you explain to your husband that it is most likely caused by:

A. Sitting up in bed late reading a great book you can't put down.

B. Showing your kids how to dance to Devo authentically.

C. Spending way too much time on the computer Blogging.

D. The vacuum cleaner

If you mostly answered A: Nozzle Novice- You have a little more to learn about the vacuum cleaner but practice makes perfect. Practice This Chant: " *I* don't see any dust on the floor."

If you mostly answered B: Fuzzy Filter - You... don't actually know where your vacuum is right now. You can take your vacuum or leave it...or possibly forget about it. You are also...kind of Awesome!

If you mostly answered C: Anti Attachment- You run your vacuum it doesn't run you. You will vacuum when and if it suits you. You priorities are straight.

If you mostly answered D: VacuuGuru- Congratulations! You are a Master of vacuum Cleaner ~~Excuses~~ Uses. This takes great strength and is a highest level of Vacuum Cleaner Unconsciousness.

In Next Weeks Issue....

Proper Care and Cleaning of Table Linens!

So how did you do? What is your best ~~excuse for~~ use of your vacuuming skills? Anymore tips?

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Anonymom. Like Not Existing Except In Your Own Head.

2011-08-05T16:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes blogging anonymously can be kind of creepy. I don't mean troll creepy but maybe that's where I get the feeling. Of course I've never had a troll. I usually put that down to not being worth the trouble to harass.

I know there are a lot of anonymous bloggers who choose to do so for privacy and safety reasons. I knew I had to be anonymous when I started my blog because of the personal nature of some of my content. I had to go through a whole lot of trouble to protect my writing, for what it's worth, by making sure everything is registered in my real name so that I can prove it's mine but keep my identity from being publicly accessible. Just in case I ever need to claim it. You know, when I start getting tons of offers for book deals and Hollywood asks me to create a sitcom or even More Likely, we find out that we are descendants of Edward the V, who actually escaped from the tower and Richard III, and grew up as a sheep herder, starting a family who eventually immigrated to the colonies and that we are his descendants and therefore the actual British Royal Family and are being returned to the throne and they want to make a Reality Series out of it. They will film us moving our Lazy Boys into Windsor and setting up our charcoal grill out on the balcony. We would still be nice to the current usurpers though. The Queen can keep her hats and the guys can still wear their fancy uniforms if they want to and maybe they can all hang out sometimes......what? Where was I? Oh....So I'm covered in the legal sense but on a personal level it kind of bites. At the same time for the most part this blog is often an open account of our lives and I have three daughters' privacy to protect as well as the fact that we are company owners and our business associates don't need to know our personal...well business.

My husband is rabid with worry about weirdo's and it's true, they are out there. We don't know who is reading and watching. Any blog can have a name and even photo's but how do you know they are real? How do we know what kind of people are peeking into our lives. Which brings me to the thought,

'How do you know who I really am?' How do you know I'm what I say I am and not a weirdo.'

You don't. Which is kinda creepy. I promise I'm not but there is no way for anyone to know that. And that sometimes sucks. It makes me feel a little unfair to read blogs where I am given names and faces and have people come to mine and get a silly cartoon my daughter drew.

Then again, it can sometimes be like a transcendental experience. Ms. G and her rowdy daughters are wandering the planet without being seen. I'm flowing through the grocery aisles looking for dumplings and no one in the physical world knows what I'm thinking. But you, my dear ones, you read my thoughts and I in turn, know exactly how many of you are wearing yoga pants.

I have power in my invisible force field. I can say Anything I Want. So I share. I share my wisdom. We explore the deep truth of bra shopping with teenagers and the magic of tomato red toenail polish. I reach deep withing the nucleus of my rhyming vocabulary to spread the gift of Really Bad Hokey Poetry and when the world is full of crisis and strife I hope you know that you can come to me and find solace in my insubstantial ~~posts~~ but honest existence. It's a good feeling to have your thoughts acknowleged outside your own mind.

There is a theory in physics that basically states that nothing is real unless it is seen by another.

If that's the case, there would be no Mom of the Perpetually Grounded if it weren't for you.

I'm so thankful for all the great people that visit here.
The lovely commenter's willing to take me at No Face value.

I just want to say that I truly am a basically normal middle aged woman with a semi normal life and I hope it isn't creepy that I can't prove it. And when I read your blogs and you visit mine, anonymous or not, I believe in you : )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Have I been Lazy? or just having too much fun?

2011-08-01T11:19:00.000-07:00

No actual real new post last week? Sporadic visiting and commenting?
Yes. That's me.
What have I been up to? Got another whole month to read it all? I lost track of everything that has been going on that I might write about because there is just so much of it. And then I had a migraine over the weekend. That was awesome fun.

Truly. It has nothing to do with my husband upping the cable service for the summer.
I promise.

I watched the best movie the other day. My Best friend. The link is to a pretty good review of it that I agreed with because I doubt I would have liked this movie if it had been made in America. It was in french. I don't speak a lick of french but it went slow so it was easy to keep up with the subtitles. I loved it. Oh, and did you know a movie can scare the pants off you even if it's in Korean and you don't speak Korean?

Those Walton's sure were some cute kids weren't they? I always wanted to be one of them when I was a kid.....what? oh. anyway....

Here are some things I've been doing.

1. Taking the dog to the vet because something bit him and his face swelled up in a frightening manner which is apparently an allergic reaction and then spending a week making him take pills. One was prednisone. Do you know what it does to dogs? It makes them pee. ALOT. And suddenly. Do you have an idea how much a 125 lb dog can pee? Guess what I woke up to, next to my bed, one morning last week? I thought I had been transported to Niagara Falls in my sleep. At first I thought my husband was running the faucet in the bathroom at full blast, but why did it sound like it was right next to the bed? Yeah. That was fun.

2. Taking the kids to the doctor for a check-up. They behaved rather well. Until they told Middlest she had to have routine blood work. And then she cried. Which was an improvement. Last year she cried and hid in the restroom. She is terrified of needles after a surgery a few years ago and multiple tests that involved needles. And then they had Littlest bend over to check her spine. Every year they give it a second glance and then say, "uh, has she ever been checked by orthopedics?" And I say no, and they kind of blow it off. This is a new doctor. He looked at it and asked if anyone had ever checked it and then he said, "I'm going to do an x ray." Which is when Littlest came unglued. Because scoliosis can disqualify you for the Marines. And she continued to unravel as they took her out. After she left I explained to the doctor and told him she was probably close to hysterical. He went out to check on it and when they came back her face was red and her eyes were swollen and the doctor looked embarrassed. He kind of shuffled his papers around and said, "it was only about 2 % down near the base. They probably will never notice. I'm not even going to put it in her records."
Thank you Doc. And Yeah. That was fun.

3. Giving my house a serious cleaning. Because we are looking for a refinance and appraisers would be coming thru. Everything looked great except for Mid who was dragged out of bed earlier than she wished and ensconced herself on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, without even brushing her hair, and pretty much looked like she would bite anyone who came near her and didn't even acknowledge they were in the room as they tried to snap pictures all around her without getting her in one. I couldn't decide whether I was annoyed or if it was fun. Maybe a little of both.

4. Oh and all three girls wanted a haircut. The two oldest, both with the long long dark hair wanted bangs. And they didn't know the other asked. So I did it. And then I told them they looked like the Bobsey Twins. And now the 24 year old looks 13 and the almost 18 year old actually looks well...almost 18, which is kind of a relief. And youngest one with the short light hair wanted to go even shorter. And then she said she looked like a guy. Even though she said a very nasty thing to Mid when she told her she would look like a guy if she cut it shorter. But she also said she liked it and No One Cried! Even Biggest.
Which is also a relief and it was kind of fun.

5. I decided to quit complaining about the heat and everything else and actually go outside and look out for some of my blessings that I don't always appreciate. Because I actually walked outside yesterday and blurted the words: "Oh God it's hot. I live in Hell." So I better cover myself just in case the Lord decides I need to learn a lesson about the difference.
I am blessed.

I have some lovely views if I take the time to look at them.
Like this cool naturally framed composition.

And what I fell in love with the moment I first saw this house.

I Have Kitties!!!

This is Voo ( Not the french vous of course because I don't speak french)

Just Voo like Boo..except not.

who is 12 and still going strong. He's my favorite ; )

And this is my magical 6 toed kitty that was left at my house last fall by the faeries.

And this is Lits cat that was born under her bed and is the youngest

but thinks that he can boss everyone else.

Hm. Just noticed something...

(and yes that is totally dead grass)

And this one who is responsible for the one above because Biggest brought her home when she was 16 and didn't get her fixed in time like she promised and we ended up with her because the Seamonkey couldn't bear to give her away because she did such a great job as a momma.

(and we ended up paying for her spay ourselves.)

She also didn't want her picture taken because she is in her summer coat and it's not as pretty but I chased her around the porch until I got one anyway.

And of course, Serena Miserina who is not serene at all but tried to take my leg off the other day because she thought I was putting her on the porch. I was.

Now my yard is in tough shape this year. We had a hard winter and a scorcher summer so far and not much is thriving. I didn't plant anything at all.

But the other day I noticed a new plant growing in my front yard.

It's a pumpkin vine!

Maybe a little gift to remind me that summer isn't forever.

My favorite- fall is coming. It always does.

Now I think I will go back inside and ~~watch some tv~~ visit somemore blogs today!

Yeah. Now that really does sound like fun : )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Let's Send It Out....

2011-07-31T06:48:00.000-07:00

With Grace in our Hearts and one of my Top 5......

Rinse and Repeat.....

2011-07-27T17:52:00.000-07:00

Ms. G does not like July. I didn't post another tribute to my father this year because that memory, once written, is now neat and tidy and well maintained. But...this one still has some split ends and damage that need a little extra care and conditioning. This is a Re-Post of my tribute to my eldest brother from 2010. I finish the countdown. Four days left in July. The 31st is a day for goodbye. Perhaps August will improve my disposition.
For now, once again ....

I'm Gonna Wash July Right Out Of My Hair!

Fly Bye Originally posted July 29 2010.

I was 5. It was so early it was still dark and I was awakened quietly to say goodbye. Groggy, I stood on the bed and reached my arms out. All was darkness. I could not see you, but I felt the rough fabric of the uniform beneath my hands and the warmth of your cheek. Your hair no longer sweeping my face as you bent for a kiss but shorn beneath a cap. The low rumble of your voice beside my ear....I love you, goodbye. I carried this in my minds eye waiting patiently as was wished, until you were safely home.

I was 9. Suddenly you were Home! And you picked up where you left off.....being my hero.

I was 24. I fully understood the problem and was saddened and helpless about it. I was used to the drinking but now sometimes your eyes were lifeless. I stop by. You are laying on the couch. You are cold and clammy and sweating profusely. I say "whatever you are doing stop it". Please. Just stop. I kiss you goodbye. Whatever it was seemed to stop and the you that had a soul came back but the drinking never stopped. The damage to your body from the years of alcohol was done.

I was 30. When the call comes in the middle of the night, just by chance I am not at home but out of town and actually closer to where you are than the rest of us. I would get there first, I would be there. As we drove through the dark I prayed, in time, in time, please.

As I was walking in a cloud of unreality, through the front doors, you were leaving. They would not let me go farther. I stood there, waiting patiently as they wished. And moments later they said, "we're sorry, we're sorry, no."

And you were alone. I could not reach out...how could this be?

As we drove away that morning the sun was rising over fields of green going gold. The light rising in tandem with our forward journey. I saw the rays light up their wings like sparks shooting upward as they circled and soared and I smiled. At that moment I heard the first notes of the song burst through to me and I reached to turn the knob up until it engulfed me, carrying me with it for awhile and opened the window to fly along through the morning because I knew...

God had allowed you to pause and soar just long enough

To say goodbye.

Google Video
pinkfloyd.com

The lyrics to this song, which I have included at the bottom of the page, were so appropriate to my brother and the situation that I am still stunned by this experience and it is the single most painful but powerfully spiritual moment of my life.

John
my brother
There for me
All of the things
big brothers should be
Johnny my brother
Ten feet tall
Or so it seemed
when I was small
Dec 1954-July 1996

My brother loved nature and had great admiration for birds. He was very quiet and none of us ever really understood why he was the way he was. He was different. He did not seem cut out for this world.
He made terrible mistakes. He was an alcoholic from his teens.

We loved him.

Learning To Fly

By David Gilmore for Pink Floyd

Into the distance, a ribbon of black

Stretched to the point of no turning back

A flight of fancy on a windswept field

Standing alone my senses reeled

A fatal attraction holding me fast, how

Can I escape this irresistible grasp?

Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies

Tongue-tied and twisted Just an earth-bound misfit, I

Ice is forming on the tips of my wings

Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything

No navigator to guide my way home

Unladened, empty and turned to stone

A soul in tension that's learning to fly

Condition grounded but determined to try

Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies

Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I

Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,

My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,

Across the clouds I see my shadow fly

Out of the corner of my watering eye

A dream unthreatened by the morning light

Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night

There's no sensation to compare with this

Suspended animation, A state of bliss

Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies

Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I

Climbing to the Top of the Footladder

2011-07-20T08:05:00.000-07:00

I don't pay that much attention to my stats because it's irrelevant. My blog is not a job, it's sometimes what I do instead of my job.... or cleaning my house and I have no plans to ever change that. But every now then when I'm bored I take a peek. I am Very Pleased to announce that my Former Most Popular search term, Emo Boobs has been surpassed by Why Does My Car Smell Like Cat Pee!!! It's good to see that I have left my shady past behind and am now performing an important service to the world.

After that I thought it might be fun to Google my blog because occasionally I like to look myself up and see what I've been up to. Whoa, what's that? I have an Alexa rating? Seriously Alexa, don't you have more important things to do? Go get a manicure dear, why are you wasting your time picking up tiny pieces of lint, that only someone like a mom would notice anyway?

So I went to my Alexa page to see what was up. Not much. But I noticed they had some of my search terms. Hmm, Circle of Stupid at # 2. Interesting. That one doesn't show up very highly in my stats. What's up with that? So I hit the link. And my page is there but this is what I find on the search page in the Sponsored Links:

Search Results for the circle of stupid

Displaying 1 to 4 out of 4 sites.
Sponsored Links

Crazy Circle
Find Low Prices and Multiple Offers Crazy Circle

shopping.yahoo.com
Crazy Circle
Find Crazy Circles at Great Prices.

www.pronto.com
Schizophrenia Types
Learn Common Signs of Schizophrenia & Paranoia Type Treatments Now

UM....Ok Google....JUST WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING HERE?

Then I saw an "Audience' tab. Well, I know my audience and they rock.
Let's see what Alexa is gossiping about under the hairdryer.

Audience Demographics for Momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com

Relative to the general internet population how popular is momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com with each audience below?

Age 25-34 Relative to the general internet population, 25-34 year olds are over-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low 35-44 Relative to the general internet population, 35-44 year olds are greatly over-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.

Confidence: low Education
College Relative to the general internet population, people who went to college are greatly over-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low Graduate School Relative to the general internet population, people who went to graduate school are under-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low Gender

Male Relative to the general internet population, Males are greatly under-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low Female Relative to the general internet population, Females are greatly over-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.

Confidence: low Has Children
Yes Relative to the general internet population, people with children are greatly over-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low No Relative to the general internet population, people without children are greatly under-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.

Confidence: low Browsing Location
home Relative to the general internet population, people browsing from home are over-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low work Relative to the general internet population, people browsing from work are greatly under-represented at momoftheperpetuallygrounded.blogspot.com.
Confidence: low

SERIOUSLY! Oh My God, Alexa, please forgive me for Hitting My Target Audience!!!!! And by the way Alexa, some of my favorite visitors are over 50. I will be turning 46 soon. Does that mean I Won't Find What I'm Looking For at My Own Blog? What a shame. That sucks. I kind of like my family even if they are apparently nuts according to Google. I'll break the news to them later.

I'm not sure I know what to do. God forbid I have any Smart Moms close to my age reading my MOM BLOG from their home while I write mine from My Home. But none of that matters because Alexa has 'low confidence in me.' I let her down. All that offering to watch her dog while she's out of town and run her clothes to the cleaners. Stopping by with little surprise gifts and letting her borrow my favorite scarf and she still doesn't have any faith in me and won't be my best friend. What else can I do?

I Know, YOU PEOPLE need to get with it!

Go get a sex change operation. While you're at it, change the age on your birth certificate along with your name. Or go lay in the sun and smoke and drink a lot so you age faster. Get your butt to graduate school or just quit school, why bother? And why aren't you reading while you are at work? Don't you know this is important? The boss can wait! Why are you at home? Get the hell out of the house and get A Real Job and for Petes sake, get rid of those damn kids!

I have an Alexa Ranking to worry about after all!

Just between us? I heard she had Botox ; )

This Post is hanging out with lovelinks at Free Fringes Come on over and join the fun!

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

And Then It Rained

2011-07-15T05:44:00.000-07:00

which was really lovely and hit the spot. A June full of hyper heat that broke records and a July that is not living up to it's reputation. A week of downpours flooding my soul like wine. A giddiness that floats to the surface and pops like little bubbles on my mood. They burst. Then July smooths my heart down with a sweep of it's hand. Flattens the wrinkles in my nature like a good housewife keeping order on my soul. Tucks in hospital corners, all business, none of this foolishness. No jumping on the beds and hiding beneath the drifting sheet. I stifle the giggles but it is apparent I will be discovered. A lump smack in the center and wondering how to escape. It's so suffocating here. I watch the sky. I see a haze of gray in the distance. But it is a lie. A tease. Stock still beyond my reach. Try to induce magic by tapping the wind chimes into action. A little prompt maybe......they were a gift you know. From someone I loved. A doting father. July cheats. July steals. It stares me in the face in the morning and challenges my accusations.
It rained for a full week. What else do you want? At least no one died.

The moon remains silent. She keeps her own counsel this time around.
Lets July take the blame.

Photo Courtesy of Miss Mid.

Problem Solved

2011-07-11T05:41:00.000-07:00

Being a parent means being a problem solver. I have been through so many situations where I had to search for the answers that I can't count them. But this is one I wouldn't have guessed.

"Could you do something about Nan?"

These are the words Littlest put to her Dad recently.

"She won't stop trying to tell me I shouldn't join the Marines and now she decided I'm a lesbian."

Ok. Awkward.

Some stuff about Littlest.

Littlest is not a girly girl. She likes to wear a dress and heels occasionally and she uses makeup and perfume. She likes being a girl. She is feminine. She is also strong. She is very self possesed and composed. She isn't 'silly' about boys but she likes them. She just isn't a..well...girly girl. But then, neither am I.

She will say just about Anything at home, to us. She won't say much to anyone else. My mother in law is a loving, caring, helpful woman who will sometimes run with an idea without knowing all her facts. She can be a little overbearing. She sometimes butts in a little too much when it comes to the girls personal business so they have started being a little more discreet. ( Like having Middlest in tears one time because she overheard a group of teenagers talking about a boy with the same name as Mids boyfriend cheating on his girlfriend, even though she had no idea who these kids were or whether it could be the same boy.) She sometimes can't take a hint and her feelings get hurt if you are too blunt with her.

A predicament.

"When you were gone and she was driving me to Jujitsu she said, Aunt B said that she was worried about me because I remind her of herself at this age. She always felt like Aunt A was prettier, like I feel about Mid, so she is right about that but she is afraid I have low self esteem. So now Nan thinks I'm a lesbian too. At first I thought she was starting on the Marines again but then I realized she thinks I'm a lesbian and I don't know if Aunt B thinks that too but Nan kept bringing up how Aunt B felt when she was growing up and talking like she thought I was having the same issues. She didn't say it out right but I could tell that's what she was getting at. "

Ok. Littlest reminds me of Aunt B too. She always has. Similar strengths and similar insecurities. Aunt B is one of the coolest young women I have ever met. She has traveled the world, she is a fire fighter, she is super smart and in incredible shape. She is not a girly girl either but she is feminine as well. She has accomplished an amazing amount for someone who is just turning 30. I have known her since she was 5 and I adore her. I see her perseverance in everything she attempts and pushing herself to be her best mirrored in Littlest a great deal. I consider her an excellent role model for my daughters.
Both she and her life partner are beautiful and accomplished women.

With Lit I see the same kind of persistence and dedication to what she is doing. She looks a lot like Aunt B and since she has been seriously working out, seeing her start to cut in with muscle tone just enhances it. Lit keeps Marine Corp. recruitment posters on her wall as inspiration to get up early in the morning to swim and lift weights. Um, I'm sure the fact that they are all handsome young men has nothing to do with it ; ) But, when Nan was driving her to her Jiujitsu Dojo, which is All Guys except for Lit, she must have escaped noticing the mention of someone affectionately referred to as Monkey Ears and the fact that Lit's Gi (martial arts uniform) recently starting smelling a whole lot like Liz Claiborne Curve. But then again, Lit probably doesn't mention it because she doesn't want it to become another topic for Nan to butt in on.

Since Littlest is a private person, she doesn't share her personal thoughts with extended family much. I don't know if they realize that she does talk to me a lot and the fact is, though they love her, they haven't spent a great deal of time with her and really don't know her that well. I had noticed she was avoiding spending time with her Grandmother. She actually was sad about it because she loves her and usually enjoys her company but she was driving her crazy.

So Seamonkey and I were a little floored (and trying not to laugh because we already know the answer) and we said,
" Well, let's start with this, just to make sure."

"Are you? Are you sure? It's ok if you are. You can tell us : )"

To which Lit, who will say Anything to Us, looked at us with pure disdain and flatly answered,

"I Enjoy Shirtless Men."

To which The SeaMonkey left the room and I snorted... just a little.

I suggested she just tell her Grandmother flat out that she was barking up the wrong tree and to please climb down it but she felt uncomfortable and didn't know what to say. Plus,

"She won't listen. She will just keep talking about it every time I'm with her. Just like with the Marines, she won't quit and I don't want to seem like I'm being rude to her. She's my Grandmother. "

A dilemma.

So I pondered for awhile and I Got IT!

"You have two years before you do anything. Tell Nan that you haven't decided for sure whether you want to go in the Marines after all but you are keeping the Marine Corp recruiting posters up on your wall because you think the guys are really hot."

Two birds with one stone.

Problem Solved.

Next?

So obviously that isn't a real solution. Though it's all we have so far and may actually be the easiest solution. This requires careful stepping. How do you manage sticky situations within extended family?

For awhile we have had songs that Big and Mid feel speak for them. We couldn't find one that defines how Lit feels because, as she explained it, "I am just too Awesome for anyone to manage it".

But then she found it.

I Predict

2011-07-07T18:08:00.000-07:00

Alright. I wasn't ready to post again yet but I can't contain it. My family are dedicated America's Got Talent fans. We just love it. We began watching the first season and actually stopped following it as closely during the years Jerry Springer was host because the attitude of the show changed. But it changed back. We love it. It's a lot of fun. I wait and watch it on OnDemand because I have no patience and can FF through the extra stuff that drags it out. I also can watch this performance over and over. I can't get enough. Anyway, I couldn't hold back my prediction for the winner this year.

I. Have. Never. Been.Wrong.....So Far

But if I am Landau Eugene Murphy has also won the hearts of our entire family and that would be Awesome too!

Localism

2011-07-06T05:41:00.000-07:00

Localism. I borrowed that word from Surf culture because it best describes my feelings. In surfing it can apply to being a 'kook.' as opposed to a 'Loc' # 25 top definition at link as applies to surfers. ( It isn't Exactly what I am talking about but it is hysterical because I have seen it.)

I don't post the grumpier side of my nature often and I have whittled this down considerably since I started it. July is a pretty good place to put it. I think I usually put my best foot forward on my blog. If you've read some of my posts you might be thinking "what?" But I mean my nicest side. I think I basically am a pretty nice person. I try to be kind and courteous and thoughtful of others. But I have an insidious under belly that rears it head in my real world. I have tried to fight it but it bubbles to the surface in my daily life as I navigate through my home town and take a look at the "progress" and meet new people wherever I may roam.

Just the other day at Office Depot a car was racing through the parking lot way too fast and as it blew past us I saw a NJ license plate and yelled, Why don't you go back to New Jersey and endanger lives there! And. I. Meant. It. No offense Jersey people who don't drive like idiots in my hometown. But.
You see, I have to stand up and admit it in public:

My name is Ms. G. and I Am A Local.

There is a popular bumper sticker around here. It says 'Localized'. It's like a 'I'm not from here' beacon. It is people who want to be local. Cause this place is so cool. I roll my eyes when I see it. I can't help my annoyance. It isn't with all people who move here. It is for the ones who move here and make a big deal of being locals. But they are not. I know this is ridiculous but I also know I'm not the only local that feels this way. I don't know if this is a weird circumstance of where I live or something that takes place in other communities. Because this is my only community. As my husband says, "If you really are a local you don't have to tell anyone you're a local."

These days people move around a lot more than they used to. The home town where the families have known each other for generations is becoming more rare. I have the good fortune or maybe misfortune to live in a desirable area. It isn't common. It has something special. It used to be a sleepy little place where everybody knows your name but not because you sit on adjacent bar stools every night. Not anymore.

It is a string of small communities that I call, My Town, The Town across the street (Which is the one I mostly grew up in) and The Town a few blocks down and we band together as a generic group that calls itself The ----- Insert word that describes where we are.
My grandparents met here around ninety years ago. They were both from somewhere else originally but at that time not that many people were actually 'From' here. My parents met here in the forties. My dad was from Rhode Island but it was wartime and anyone who was military and decided to stay is an honorary local. My husbands family didn't move here until after he was born but I let him be a local because he's cute and he's considered local in the surfing department ( Has been known to drive a jacked up truck...and other stuff..a looong time ago.) The rest of his family are from Maryland and they moved away again so they don't get to be locals.

Several months ago I came across a blog that is centered on The Town A Few Blocks Down and the entire -----es area. It made it sound like Xanadu. I honestly can't figure out why people think it's such a big deal to be a local here. Except, me of course. Because I'm a local ; ) The only thing I find special about this place is that it is My hometown.
The woman who wrote the blog seemed like a very nice woman. The whole blog is about how she loves being a local. She loves it so much she is attempting to market products about it. She has been here for ten years. She loves it. I'm glad she does. She can have it. I would rather get out of here. Because my town is not my town anymore. It has been ' improved.'

When I was a kid we had a fishing pier. It was old and splintery. You could see the ocean between the cracks in the boards and if you watched long enough you could get dizzy with the motion of the waves. It was full of colorful old characters fishing and drinking beer. I used to go there with my brother to fish and listen to the old men and their bawdy stories. Just smiling quietly when they noticed I was there and sheepishly apologized for their bad language. Inside they made great burgers and you could sit on a rickety bench and eat with the ocean breeze blowing across your sunburned skin with a relief that central air can never duplicate and a million dollar view.

It's gone. After suffering some damage from a storm they decided to build a whole new one.
It's....very nice.

There used to be funky little shops near the main street. A deli/bakery that was family owned. They had a neat little glass revolving display with birthday cakes. The library was across the street and we could stop in for a snack after a lovely morning choosing books. They are gone. We have a new library on some less prime real estate. The bakery is still in business in a strip mall even further away. When I was a little older I would explore the little independent shops. Like the messily arranged Asian import store, full of treasures stacked haphazardly in random piles. The used book store smelling of antique paper, old leather and dust.

We have new stores now. Upscale shops and restaurants in nifty stucco developments that accessorize the condos. They are just beautiful. yes. they. are. Like Acetate lining in a suit.

You see the 'Localized' worked hard to get that distinction. They worked hard building color coordinated McMansions where there used to be woods. They put a lot of effort into creating an atmosphere of polish and small town sophistication. What the Locals find amusing is that some of the tacky and crappy refused to be moved. It all now rests side by side. The 'Localized' have created a pretentious atmosphere and like to refer to it as "The Island." Ok, technically, surrounded by water. Like an Island? Like a bicycle wheel in relation to a semi tire. Really people? Get over yourselves.

It used to be pretty cool here. Way before my time there was a boardwalk and amusement park. When I was little it was reduced to a Ferris wheel and carousel and some bumper cars but that was cool too. Then we went through a period of decline. The powers that be felt that the only way to shape things up was to upscale them. We do still have something of a boardwalk and it's true that there is an improvement on the area from 20 years ago when much of it was considered blighted. They still have failed to transform it into a tourist destination.
I thank God they haven't accomplished this. I would much rather have my ratty little buildings next door to million dollar developments, now marked down to $ 250,000, overshadowing a few surviving beach houses, than a Ripley's Museum.

This community never had a sense of history. It was always looking for something new. Until recently when they desperately began trying to collect any trivia to show there was a past and then had to house the Historical Society in a Brand New Building. By the time I was grown there were only a handful of quirky landmarks built around the thirties left, but they were my quirky landmarks and I loved them. They are gone now or renovated beyond recognition. The most recent being a hideous turquoise monstrosity that used to have the best pizza on earth. For years it was a local icon. It survived the arrival of Pizza Hut and Domino's but with an influx of chains sadly the family run business was gone by 1994. The building with it's sloping floors and funky light fixtures continued under new management for awhile. Then they tore it down. And put a street through it. So that people wouldn't have to turn left and drive half a block to turn right. It skirts our truly historic African American Cemetery. So now you just drive straight for a few yards and then curve to the left and curve to the right. OOH, what a relief. But it gave them a place to put a big fancy expensive sign Welcoming everyone. Set dead (no pun intended ) center beside the towns two cemeteries. There is some city planning for you! Welcome to our Beautiful (Hodgepodge), mediocre (if not macabre ) not very special town that I personally would pass by if I was a tourist. Cause you know, if I'm a tourist I want my Ripley's Museum.

Recently my husband and I went out to a popular local eatery. We have gone there for years but we aren't 'regulars'. We only very occasionally go out. We do know the bartender though. We have come in enough years for that. We go early to avoid the crowds. It was about 5 and we settled in to relax when a gentleman came in with his kids and bypassed the restaurant area, where people who are not morons sit to eat dinner with their small children, and the rest of the entire, huge, empty bar, to park on the corner where we were sitting and crowd us and block the window we were enjoying looking through, watching people wander around looking for something special, with his children. Who were cranky. And one of them was sick and coughing all over the bar. Or maybe he trained them to do that. I don't know. (ok, they were cute too and I had a more enjoyable conversation with them because I'm not really that mean and grumpy.)

He hailed the bartender with a mighty wave of his hand loudly calling him by name. "The usual please!" Wow. That was so cool. But our quiet little corner was gone and uncomfortably crowded by this guy who stood 5 inches away from my elbow on the corner of the bar while I tried to eat instead of sitting down on the other side and hyper actively jumped around like a freakin monkey.

Finally he couldn't stand it anymore, He turned to us and said hi.

"Hi", we answer and turn back to each other to continue our conversation.

"Are you guys Local?" he asks condescendingly.

"Yes". We answer.

I swear his face fell.
Really?

"Yes."

Darn we ruined his chances to lord his localism. He wasn't quite buying it though.

"When did you come here", he asked?

"When I was 5", my husband answered. I smiled sweetly, "I was born here." Maybe it was an Evil Smirk.

"Wow", he said, "you guys are an anomaly, did you know that?"

"Really?", I said. No kidding, I thought.

He launched into the story of how he lived here for awhile after he got out of college and then came back or something and I don't really care so he goes on to 'who do you know ?' Which floored him because I think he was still suspicious and we knew everybody he mentioned, only we knew them ten years longer but he had never seen us before and blah blah blah - We Don't Care. We came here so we could have a conversation with each other without other people blathering at us.
He then asked if we ever went to the local Dive Bar which is about the only historical place thought worthy of preservation around here and it's depression era but not ancient, or their special celebration every year in which people go get drunk first thing in the morning on a family Holiday. I said, "I haven't been there in years." And I haven't. Because they pissed me off 24 years ago and one thing about a real Local, we hold a grudge. And as for the Famous Dive. Oh Boy, it's a dive, full of transplants who think they are hanging out with the 'local flavor' when they are all just hanging out with each other.

At one point he looked crestfallen and murmured that his wife wanted to move back to Michigan.

"Really?"
Well Michigan is a wonderful place too. You want your wife to be happy don't you?

Eventually the rest of his posse showed up- yoga pants mom who looked like she had just rolled off a couch ( and wanted to go back to Michigan) and the neighbors. That explained the crowding. Apparently we were 'in their spot'. I would have stayed longer just to annoy them but we had to drive home and I couldn't have stayed without switching to bourbon. Before we left he managed to get where we live out of us, which just happened to be very near them so they know about my secret neighborhood. He said, " We ride our bikes down their all the time!" Oh. Joy. Hopefully we were just stand offish enough that I won't have to be on the lookout in case they decide to bike over and visit. He introduced us as 'they are actually from here', but his wife was being appropriately stuck-up and didn't really acknowledge us, so we are probably safe.

In any case, when we left I told my husband, we should put up a sign,

"Chat with a Real Local, 5 minutes for 5 bucks". We could make a killing.

I'll stop being mean now. But this is honestly me. And my snobbery. Because that's what it is. When we bought our house it was on a dead end dirt road and just beyond was the homestead of one of the oldest families in the area. My house is the one the Matriarch of the family built for her retirement. A few years ago the last of the family sold, to misquote Longfellow, "folded their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently stole away."

I don't blame them. They moved to a quieter place. It is too crowded here. The new culdesac down the street is named after their family. The street is named after the woman who built my house. I like that simply because I know it and they don't. The market fell and the investors who bought the land beyond me were left hanging. I get to enjoy my natural view a few more years before the walls of beige with little squares set meaninglessly into the corners goes up. When they do I will be ready to leave. I always say that if I have to live in the area I do, I want to live right where I am. In this town. In this house. On my nice little chunk of property that gives us just enough privacy. I love my home and my yard but I know that will change as progress...progresses.

I have tried to find a way to come to an understanding of my duality in this. Even though I think this place is ridiculous, it has always been My ridiculous place and I have great pride in being one of the real locals. At the same time I don't know why I get so annoyed with people who want to be locals. Maybe because I have lost my feeling of connection with the place, for the most part. Maybe that's it. New people made it a new place. Not the one I knew.

I wish I could go someplace else. This place is the story of my life but I can walk away and never look back. It's always been too darn hot here anyway. I only hope that if I ever go, I can go to the place I love. I have mentioned before that I love the mountains. I feel about them the way the nice lady with the 'local' blog feels about my hometown. If I ever do, I hope the locals won't be mean like me.

I can promise them this. I won't pretend to be one of you. I won't show up, say, "what a great place" and then suggest improvements. I won't try to change the face of your world to suit what I like. I won't change the rules. I won't commandeer your environment. I would just enjoy it the way it is.

I hope they would Not feel as I do.

The only thing special left about this place is that it is My Hometown.

And I wish they would all go back where they came from.

How about you? Are you a local or a transplant?
Do you suffer from Localism or are you a victim of it?

I just used I or I'll to begin 6 paragraphs in a row. That has to be some kind of grammar travesty. Obviously a local yokel ; )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

What's That Chiming Sound? I'm Busy Blogging....

2011-07-01T07:17:00.000-07:00

I can be really bad about making appointments. I avoid the phone as much as possible and usually schedule a certain amount of calls I can handle in a week. Nuts, I know, what else is new?

Anyway, ~~about a~~ ~~month~~ a couple weeks ago Middlest was complaining that her gums hurt and she thought a wisdom tooth was coming in. Ok. I need to call a dentist. Except the next day she said, "oh it's not hurting. I guess it went away." Ok. No rush. Then it came back. Then it went away.....Then it grew in. And was fine. Then the other one started so I know she needs to have them checked out. It is summer now.

Summer is a good time to get that stuff done and they were due for a check up anyway.
I would have to make the appointment. I'd ask, how is that tooth doing? "It's not bothering me right now." So no emergency but I will get to it.

I have six email accounts, you know, one for each personality, and the one for my company uses Outlook which has a nifty little calendar with reminders that chime and pop up a set amount ahead of time. So I set it to remind me to make the appointment. The problem is my regular schedule has not been regular and has been packed. Often with things that I knew were coming up but didn't have a lot of advance notice on exact dates so it was hard to know what I was doing when. Which makes it hard to schedule appointments.

The reminder also has a snooze feature so that when it pops up you can reset it to remind you again later. Yeah.

So. I also have this nifty little sticky note feature on my desk top. I love it. I use it for things that are VERY IMPORTANT and Absolutely Cannot Be Forgot or Put Off. Knowing I had to go out of town last week I remembered to leave myself this note for important things that had to be finished the day I came back.

But yesterday when I came back it said this:

Which appears to be a combo of German and Reggae. I don't know.

Then....

and lastly

Ok. I Get The Message! Or most of it....anyway...

Then this morning I found some new ones.

Of course. Yesterday she 'is almost 18' and can make her own decisions. Today I'm Mommy.

This does prove that my theory about what this young lady will try to do to make a living
is correct. I quote myself from This Post last fall,

"Should she skip college and set up shop on a street corner? Will she have to hold up a sign saying,
Will paint you for food?"

Yes. It's true. She will be standing on a street corner selling her art.

She is Incredibly Undeniably Awesome. Truly. And I Raised Her!

I will collect my Mother of the Year Award right after I ~~push the snooze button on this reminder~~ make this telephone call.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Everything comes back around. Or Round.

2011-06-26T06:19:00.000-07:00

Or, I have been shopping.

The silhouette that suited me when I was seventeen.
Long and fuller on the top, then narrows straight and lean.
It's back! Oh Joy! We once we made quite a team.
Until I look, Oh Lord, what's that? A cone of frozen cream?
Or maybe it's a light bulb, walking round alive.
What lit the room a seventeen, is not as bright at Forty Five.

Work calls me away for a few days. As always I will not have access to my blog or email while I am gone. Catch you when I get back!

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Cat Got My Tongue...Or Brain..or Something...

2011-06-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

Busy.Scattered.Tired.Weary.

Haven't had much time to write or read and can't focus when I try.

One of those weeks when my brain wanders and I have to wander on a business trip next week.

So let's just call this a

Wordless Week.

Without pictures.

Dim down.

Flow.

Ah. That's nice.

Now I have to feed the dogs and cook dinner and starting getting quarterlies together and begin to prepare for traveling and iron some linen and teach Mid to drive and take Lit to Jujitsu....

Shoot.

REPLAY.

100 Degrees and Counting

2011-06-16T09:28:00.000-07:00

Wow. I almost thought I didn't really have any full moon incidents and as I was staring at my computer last night dumbfounded....

Biggest Called.

She said: You promise you won't yell.

I yelled. WHAT?

And then she told me a story.

Middlest who had just returned home and went straight to the shower had been standing outside a convenience store talking to an acquaintance. A young man she has know for a few years and who has mental issues and has been in trouble many times. She has been told, begged with, and ordered to avoid this person. His behaviour toward her has bordered on stalking from time to time but then seems to level off and she will (stupidly) speak to him because he is acting normal. Which he was doing last night until he suddenly grabbed her wrists and shoved her up against the wall of the building and pinned her there, made some profane comments and refused to let go until after she had struggled with him for several minutes and got her hand free long enough to strike at him and then ran and took off on her bike.

Following family tradition, with the police department right around the corner and a row of businesses to go in for help and a cell phone in her hand, she called:

Her Sister.

Who then called me because Mid was afraid to tell us because she thought we would be angry at her for talking to the boy to begin with. Which is of course insane. Please reiterate to your children. Always tell! And call 911 for Pete's sake. We taught her that as soon as she was old enough to dial a phone.

It brought up the question again of why Mid is our only child not to learn a martial art but she did attend a self defense class at our local police department a few years ago. She was so shocked and surprised by an unexpected attack from someone she knew, and was having a normal conversation with, that it all flew out the window. But, this guy has been known to do this kind of thing before. Where she made her mistake was assuming it would be ok because he had not acted that way with her. Yet.

So anyway, by that time Biggest was in action. Bat Girl went into full duty. When she told me they were driving around and she had her bat in the back of the truck I told her to get her Bat Behind to my house and knock it off. We were calling the police. Bat girl hasn't interacted with the local PD in a long time and I think she was a little let down when we told her to leave the room while Mid made her report instead of leading the investigation herself. But we made the report and I don't know if anything will come of it this time around but at least we have a start if we have another issue.

Middlest was scared to death. I've never seen her that shook up. I was very concerned about her being afraid we would be angry with Her because she was talking to the guy to begin with. Was it a bad decision? Yes. Does that matter? NO. My usual best parenting advice on this one. Talk. Talk. Talk. and then pray. That's about all you can do. Hopefully some of it will stick. Eventually.

Littlest's offer to take him apart because she is still underage and can get away with it wihtout getting in as much trouble was Declined.
But the thought was deeply appreciated.

The Legendary Bat Girl, Biggest turns 24 tomorrow which is always a week long celebration and this weekend we will celebrate the once very young and new daddy who came home from the hospital the night she was born to find our cat had kittens in the closet and fell asleep on the floor with his head among the shoes and gentle purrs of that mama and her babies because he could not be with us. Almost half a century ago. Biggest says next year she stops counting birthdays. I somehow don't think that will include not counting presents....; )

Other than that. Summer time is here. If you don't know how I feel about that yet, you soon will.
It has been an average of 96 to 100 degrees here the last couple weeks. I haven't Actually shriveled up and died yet but there is still time. It's a little early for these temperatures, even in my warm climate, so I am paying my dues for having a nice chilly winter to enjoy.

So we are having a hot, hazy, lazy summer. No plans. No details. Some funky moon to start us off last night. We will take this summer as it comes. Too hot to move. Too hot to even talk much. We escape as much as possible. We sleep late. We read. We listen to the crickets and cicadas harmonizing in the trees. Swinging on the porch swing. Daydreaming in the grass beneath the trees. ~~Hide in the bushes with our baseball bats in case crazy people show up~~..Watching the sky change colors in slow motion. Rising...Purple..Pink...Golden...Blue...Gray...Green with the rage of rain in the afternoons of those lucky days... to Pink ..... Yellow.... Orange....Periwinkle....lasting forever before turning down to a milky black that never quite hits it's mark with only the stars and that Big Old Moon to swing and dream on.

We wait until dark to come alive on those endless days when there is No Rain.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

MOON MUSIC

Release My Breath And Smile.

2011-06-11T09:07:00.000-07:00

This has been a very busy, long, tiring, and wonderful week.

Full of stressful and sweet moments.

I watched my beautiful Middlest walk out of the house a high school girl, looking classy and gorgeous in a tasteful dress that made her look like a real grown up. Which was weird. I was amazed at the stuff some of the girls showed up in to graduate. I saw dresses that looked like they belonged on stage in a hootchie review and 6 inch heels that they could barely walk in. My child looked like a dark haired Grace Kelly in a dress she chose herself. (Am I bragging? Damn Straight.) And walk back in with a diploma in her hand.

I saw her walk in a cap and gown that hid every bit of her. Except her face which glowed with a smile that couldn't be missed and moments after taking her seat she had found us in a giant arena. A skill learned from years in an orchestra. She beamed up at us keeping her eyes on her family. Except when her walking partner, who is a childhood friend--turned boyfriend--turned back to friend--was teasing her. Her comment was -"I started school with X poking me with his elbow and I ended school with X poking me with his elbow. Very Appropriate."

I sat with my husband of 25 years and watched her graduate from the same high school we attended. I sat with Littlest who will be there herself in 2013 but was more concerned with the toddler sitting in front of her and spent most of the pre-ceremony smiling and watching her. I sat with my son-in-law DecentGuy, who messed up when he was a student at this school and has been encouraging and fussing and Actually Bribing Middlest to do it right. He's been with Biggest too long, figures it works with that one, why not?...In any case, she has a bass guitar coming her way now. I sat with Biggest who also threw it away when she was there and who cried when Middlest told her she made it, because she was so proud. I sat with this daughter who will be 24 next week. Who stood next to me during the pledge but whispered 'sell out' in my ear and then redeemed herself by laying her head on my shoulder as we sat and watched. It always surprises me when they do that. I freeze in those moments to hold tight to every second of them. We've had several this week. Meeting Middlest on the half way point of out stairs and her reaching out, "I need a hug really bad." Littlest leaning into me as we sat on the porch, at home afterward, celebrating.

I watched the pre-ceremony show. Two families in the row in front of us almost get in a fist fight over the row. Between the family with 3 people who showed up early to save an entire row for the rest and the second family who decided to sit there. The first saying, "These were saved, we have more coming." The second saying, "No they ain't, there's no one sitting in them, they ain't saved." So the first family eventually settled on death glares and loud comments when their other family members showed up. What is wrong with people? The Groundeds' are split on who was right. One side says you can't expect to just show up early and keep that many seats. The other says, That was rude. Get there early yourself instead of stealing seats someone else showed up early for.

I saw the during the ceremony show. Which was people who were solemnly asked to observe decorum. No yelling, cheering, or horns please. After all, a family may miss their graduates name being called. Yeah right. This is a school that prided itself for years on being the only one that allowed flip flops as part of the dress code. The Teachers working Security did remember to look mean as they whispered "not yet, wait till the end" to the kids with the beach balls they were surreptitiously blowing up under their gowns during the final speech. Oh and for some reason the announcers kept pausing in between names ; )

This event marks another milestone in this journey I know will end before long. There will be change. But for now I hold on to this in the same way I hold on to those impromptu hugs and gentle leanings into my shoulders.

Last night I had my favorite. My family all together and enjoying our own company. The noise and ruckus they create as a group always makes me happy. My three daughters talking and laughing together. They are all big but I still hear the sound of running, laughter and shouts as they tussle. Middlest threatening Biggest to stay out of the corners on her cake, they were hers. But letting DecentGuy have one because he gave her a bass. Biggest and Littlest having a showdown between kick boxing and Jujitsu to see who was toughest. Middlest finally wondering, "How come I never learned to fight?" It's a good question. She answered it herself. "That's ok, I can just disregard situations until they go away". True. I think the fact that this situation not only did not go away but reached completion has floored her. She looked dazed as they handed her the diploma and she looked lost for a moment meandering off the stage. I felt a little lost myself. How did I get here? Where will we go next?

I guess it doesn't matter where or how. We will go together. Even if someday we are not physically in the same spot. I know. Wherever they are they I will feel them lean in and rest against my heart.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Pomp and Happy Dance !!!!

2011-06-06T13:00:00.000-07:00

OMG!

The Sky Didn’t Fall

The Earth Is

Still On Its Axis

The Globe

Did Not Burn Up

And We Did Not Perish

In A Hail Of Meteors

..This Year

BUT

We Dazedly Announce The

High School Graduation

Middlest Grounded

Some Say 2012

Will Bring Armageddon

So We Are Gonna Party

Like

The Class

2011

When I began this blog in the Fall of 09, one of the reasons was that this child was giving me a fit. She is super intelligent and talented but easily distracted.
However as she always does...she came thru in the end!

I Am Hugely Proud of Her and I am So Excited to share this news! I have been about to pop keeping it to myself because I have known for about a week that it was going to happen. That's just it though. I didn't know for sure until early last week. Final grades didn't come in until 5/27 . It has been touch and go all along but for most of this year we had a smooth flight. Until the last quarter when a series of personal incidents that I could swear were a curse meant to flatten this kid, caused a serious crash and burn. At the last possible minute her math teacher found a few points he misplaced in his stapler drawer or something and She Made It!

I would like to Thank Everyone who has come here and read and listened to me whine and complain and worry and offered Support and Good Advice to both myself and Middlest in our journey to get her through high school.

We also absolutely have to Thank GOD!

And Special Thanks to my Dear friend Elissa , who apparently has a direct line to him ; )

If you are new here, as may be apparent, This is a miraculous cause for a Major Celebration...so break out your confetti and join in!

Gongratulations to My One and Only Middlest!

WE LUV U!!!!!!

and to paraphrase the Great Dr. Seuss.....

Out there things can happen

and frequently do

to people as brainy and

footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,

don't worry. Don't stew.

"Just go right along. You'll

start happening too."

So be sure when you step.

Step with care and great tact

and remember that "Life's a Great Balancing Act."

Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.

And never mix up your right foot with your left.

particularly when you are walking up to get that diploma....

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Please Hold Your Applause...It's Dumb...

2011-06-02T09:37:00.000-07:00

Littlest has won an Award.....

We are beyond the days of everyone gets a trophy or a certificate for just showing up.

She drops a purple sheet of paper on the dinner table and walks away throwing the comment over her shoulder......

"Apparently I'm supposed to get an award or something. I don't know what it is."

"Do I have to go?"

The sheet says:
[You have been nominated to receive an award at our Underclassmen Award Ceremony. This will be a very special occasion for you and your family]

[I extend my congratulations to you. It is always a pleasure to recognize the accomplishments of our students.]
Sincerely,
The Groundeds High School Principle

It doesn't say what she did, but I suspect I know, and I am guessing it has something to do with her writing score on our State Standards Testing for Sophomores.

"You don't know what it is? It's during the school day, can we go? It says 'family."

Lit: "Do I have to go? I haven't done anything. I don't deserve to be recognized for anything. If it was the writing, I barely tried, it was stupid!"

This is the child who deprived me of her eighth grade Banquet and Creative Writing Awards at the Arts Middle School two years ago.

She told me,

"You guys don't have to come. It's expensive and it's not going to be any big deal. No, I won't be getting anything except the Mock Awards and everyone gets those. Parents don't have to come. There is no reason for you to be there. It's a Dumb ceremony and it's boring.
You Won't Be Missing Anything! "

It was so Obvious that she didn't think it was important and didn't want us there that we decided to forgo paying 80 bucks to have an awful and boring time. We did not go.

Which is how we ended up looking like the most cold, uninvolved, rotten parents on the planet.

When I picked her up she held her Mock Award, or joke award (Which by the way was a certificate that said, Most Likely To Light Up The Room With Her Smile.)

AND

A Trophy engraved with: Littlest G : Non Fiction Writer of The Year.

Which is when I wanted crawl in a hole and die and fled like the place was on fire before being cast in shame before the eyes of other parents walking out of the ceremony beaming at their children.

So what is this kids issue? I understand disdain for the, 'everybody gets one - big deal - events'. But why won't she take credit when she does accomplish something? It's not like we show up in cut offs and flip flops with a cooler of beer and some snacks or even do that predictable, 'stand up and take pictures and block everyones view through the entire event' thing. Is she actually boosting her boost by making us reassure and beg? Hmmmm...

The SeaMonkey and I were discussing it this morning and I told him,
"I can see it now. In fifteen years."

"Oh...by the way.....For some reason I'm getting the Congressional Medal of Honor...but it's no big deal.....you don't have to be there....I'd rather stay home, myself...but I Have To Go...It's so dumb...."

I told her I didn't care if she was being awarded a Pixie Stick for having the Most Sour Attitude in school......She Will Be There. And So Shall We.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Remember

2011-05-30T04:49:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day Tribute

TAPS

Day is done,
gone the sun,
From the hills,
from the lake,
From the skies.
All is well,
safely rest,
God is nigh.

Go to sleep,
peaceful sleep,
May the soldier
or sailor,
God keep.
On the land
or the deep,
Safe in sleep.

Love, good night,
Must thou go,
When the day,
And the night
Need thee so?
All is well.
Speedeth all
To their rest.

Fades the light;
And afar
Goeth day,
And the stars
Shineth bright,
Fare thee well;
Day has gone,
Night is on.

Thanks and praise,
For our days,
'Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
'Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.

Lights Out.

Please remember to observe a minute of silence for the
National Moment of Remembrance at 3 P.M.
your local time to honor our Nations Fallen.

Like A Ball Of Yarn Unraveling

2011-05-28T18:53:00.000-07:00

That is what my brain has felt like the last couple days.

Recently I found myself with an unusual amount of free time that I used to join several communities i will probably visit twice. After a fit of hyperactivity that included joining sites, participating in prompts, visiting new blogs and posting several posts in a row, I have hit a brick wall. I have so much in my head right now and I can't sort it out and put it into any kind of order. Not that I do anyway. But worse than usual. I haven't even commented much the last few days because I read and just can't find the way to form what I want to say. After a few times when I felt I was spewing utter nonsense I decided I'd be better off remaining mostly silent. Mostly.

I am working on a post about Localism (Yes, I know that is not a real word). In relation to myself. I am working on it and trying to edit it down a little becasuse it is kind of rambling and I get off the main point in it several times. I should do that right? Try to keep it to the point? Shouldn't I? Or would that change my voice?

I've read a lot about finding your own voice. I think I have done that. The thing is, I have more than one voice. My voice may depend on my mood or what I have to say. Which is the right one? That's just it. They all are.

Sometimes I'm in a silly mood and look at the humorous side of things. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I make a real effort to write something with some quality. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I get tired of looking at my last post and post whatever is in my head. What the hell am I doing here? Whatever I want. If I don't have anything pertinent to say I'll just post something random. Sometimes I try to be careful with grammar and form...sometimes I don't. You might find anything from a serious essay to some Really Bad Poetry, or a song I'm in the mood for. I find inspiration everywhere. I enjoy reading blogs by a large array of very different types of people. I was prompted to do the Localism post by a comment from my friend Susan of Susan Fobes' Family Formula on this post. I also was thinking of writing a post inspired by a comment by Linda Medrano on this post. I was thinking of calling it "that time I smoked pot" it is a true and cautionary tale that will scare the crap out of your kids. Well maybe. I waited too long to tell it to my oldest and my other two seem to find it amusing. It is kind of amusing. In a terrifying kind of way. I'll think about that one. I like Linda. I discovered her recently or she found me...something like that. She also is a regular with Erica at Free Fringes. Have you been by there? You should. She is not only excellent on her own, she also has a fun thing going on called Love Links where people link up smaller blogs and then we read and comment and vote on them. Go here at Free Fringes for the latest details on how it works. I also met this Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite, from Writing in the Margins Bursting at the Seams , at Love Links, the other day.

She passed me the Versatile Blogger Award. Wasn't that nice? She has been writing this blog since February and I enjoyed spending some time in her archives today. I think this is her first blog, I didn't see mention of another. You should go by and read. She is Very Good. I like it. If Blogger ever releases everyone's Followers from captivity I will be Following her. Go! Visit!

Where was I? See...like a sieve...anyway...

Advice on creating a professional blog will tell you find a focal point. A main reason for blogging. There are so many reasons people choose to blog There are people with serious goals whether it be writing, starting a business, whatever. Expert Blogs. How To blogs. Funny Blogs. Serious Blogs, Reviewers, Mom Blogs, Journals. I have always said I do not have a real purpose. I am not a writer but I like to write. I write about my teenagers but I don't tell you the latest theories on how to deal with them. I don't actually read the theories on how to deal with them anymore. I don't do reviews, I don't give tips, I don't use social media, I don't try to 'sell' my blog. I hear the word 'Brand' used a lot. I guess I am a Mom Blog. But, that's not all I am. I am a journal blog and a..well, that's just it..

Spin spin spin. That's my head. I can't really focus on anything in particular and have spent the day doing things like wandering off in the middle of folding towels to eat a brownie. Still. Last night when I was too tired to write, too tired to read, too tired to watch tv but bored nonetheless, I decided to get out my World Famous Microsoft Paint Box and amuse myself. I had just gotten used to the old one when I received a new computer and now it's fancier and I had to figure it out all over again.

I thought, I know what I need! I need my own community! I need to create my own space for my blog to fit. Something that defines what I do because I am multi faceted. I am Multi Purpose, or No Purpose, I am scattered, I am Free From Form.

I am...I am...

And I know I'm not the only one. Grab a button if you would like to be a part of my community. You do not have to do anything or be anything to be a part of this group. Even if your blog has a purpose you can be a member. Because it's random. We don't even have a place to meet. We are Free to scamper about the internet wreaking havoc on Form and Function!

I am also up way past my bedtime right now and am too tired to proof read this anymore so I'm sure it will do.

If enough random people volunteer I will make us a Random Page of Links. Otherwise, I won't. I'll just wander off in the middle of typing and have a brownie.

OOPS! An Oversight!

For The Mombshell

Sometimes I Wonder, Where Did We Go?

2011-05-22T17:04:00.000-07:00

Bit by bit nature encroaches upon our dwelling. The same way time seems to encroach on our family's lives and change us. In the spring we look about and decide it's time to clear back a little. Create some space before we become swallowed up. Over the years pieces of our individuality fall away and we move on and begin to forget. Time moves us forward and our view shifts. Each spring in our yard we are like archaeologists within our own lives. In the way our memories buried deep within sometimes spring forth and take us by surprise, sometimes when we least expect it the earth yields up

OUR PAST

When was the day they hit it into the bushes and decided not to retrieve it?
What was the day they walked away?
It slipped by so fast I never caught it. Didn't know I missed it until it was long gone.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

By The Light......

2011-05-18T13:37:00.000-07:00

I am back. And wore out. but this week was a pretty good one even in the light of...well, the moon.

Biggest called. She said,

My house is on fire! I don't know what to do! I heard a funny noise behind my dresser and I pulled it out and there were sparks coming out of the plug and I grabbed the cord to pull it out and then flames shot up the wall and DecentGuy isn't here and I have all these animals and the wall is all black and I don' t know what to do!

Now we all know the first thing you obviously do when your house is on fire.

You call your mother.

I Said,

Hang on a minute, I'll get your Dad....

(It was fine. bad cord and Friday the 13th)

Littlest has been working out and lifting weights. With a history of gymnastics she was already pretty strong and now she is powerful and she looks incredible. She also occasionally has some issues with anger and self control. So like any good parents we decided to support her interest and nurture her talents. We signed her up for a Jiujitsu class. She is very excited. She thinks it will help with her goal of being a Marine. Middlest was not pleased. She declared,

"No! You can't let her learn that. She will hurt me!"

We reassured her. " No she won't. Don't worry. If she does we will call the police."

......what?

Anyway.
For the first time ever we traveled and left the girls home on their own. ( With secret surprise visits from their sister and my MIL.) They really wanted to prove that they were trustworthy and mature enough to take care of things. We were nervous wrecks but we finally agreed. After all Middlest will be eighteen in August and as she said, "I have to be alone at some point in my life." Which is true. I have tried to teach her basic life skills. Like cooking eggs and sorting the laundry before using the washer. But then, she is the one who called after we left because the washer was making a funny noise. I thought all that was caught up and wondered what she was washing? Two bra's....and a backpack....yeah...anyway. After that I felt better about leaving them a large supply of microwaveable Ramen and Beef-a-Roni to eat rather than meals that required a stove. I left them them a detailed list of things to do to fill their every moment and exact times to check in and about 2 full pages of instructions. Including taking care of the dogs. Making sure they were fed correctly, let out often enough and that people/cat food was not left out where they could get to them and get sick.

The first day I sent a text to ask what they were up to. I received this 2 part message from Middlest:

Msg. 1: Throwing a Wild Party
Msg. 2: With Fabio

Later I made sure to let them know we arrived safely. because I know they were on pins and needles worrying about it. I sent the text:

We are here!

To which Littlest replied:

Cool. We're in Vegas.

Which gave me a moments pause because we just updated our wills and left Biggest in charge of everything if we die and also left her a hefty check to cover things temporarily in the event the worst happens.

But Karma was alive and well and the next morning when I sent a text to make sure they got up for school because I Knew They Wouldn't. I received this answer from Littlest:

"Yes. We are up. And one of the dogs got sick and messed all over the house!"

And I was far away. Even though I was in for a long day of work ahead of me, there would be a nice dinner and a quiet clean room at the end of it. One of those moments when you stretch and sigh for a moment leaning back on comfy hotel feather pillows with a small smile because you know, Ah!

Life Is Good!

When our work was through I sent a text letting them know we were heading home. To which I received this reply from Middlest:

You guys are gone for not even three days and i gut my room, quit smoking, finish my work, and overcome a crushing depression. You need to go away more often.

I said, Ok.

Besides, tells on herself for smoking when she has already been busted for it once. Obviously the same young woman that, when asked, " it's three weeks to graduation, have you finished your grade recovery and brought up your math grade?" Answered: "Yes... i....think....so....."

Oh Wait! Biggest just called me. She said her clients are all crazy and she is having a nervous breakdown! She just needed to vent for a moment.

You know what I'm gonna do now?

Moon Music

What Do You Mean Your Neighbors Look At You Funny?

2011-05-14T10:22:00.000-07:00

2 Things.

1. I have some knee problems and can't kneel on my knees.
2. My husband likes to decide to do something after he already left the house.

Which is how today I found myself:

In the Front Yard driveway standing in front of the lawnmower, wearing a short mumu type sundress, with one hand yanking it down in back, while I bent at the waist, attempting to read the small numbers under the spark plug, with a dental mirror, backwards.

Now the real question is why did my husband just walk past the window with a surfboard instead of a lawnmower?

I have to travel tomorrow and be gone a few days. If I miss you I will catch you when I get back.
In the meantime,

Have you entertained your neighbors recently?

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Biggest Called...

2011-05-13T15:50:00.000-07:00

She said,

Where are you? What are you doing? You have to go look this song up on YouTube and listen to it right now! No. You have to listen to it right now while I'm on the phone! I was listening to it and when I heard it I told Decent Guy,

I think this is MY SONG. For the way I used to be.

Then I realized,

I think this is MY SONG FOR MY PARENTS

I said,

I Love You Too.

My oldest daughter has come a long way since she was a teenager. I think she carries a burden of guilt that is not necessary. The past is past. She is self aware now instead of self concious. I am indescribably proud of her. But, like her mother, there are things she does not know how to say out loud. Her feelings a giant boulder she cannot lift at once. Instead She finds pebbles along the way and drops them as markers on the path to her heart.

Blogger still hasn't given this post or the first comments on it back yet and I'm tired of waiting so I am doing it myself!

Comments made before the end of the world as we know it:

Bibliomama
Oh. Wow. It must be amazing to reach that point in your relationship with your child. Happy Pebble Day.

Me: Allison, Happy Pebble Day: ) I like it!

Ms. A
Dropping pebbles is good starting point. The farther we travel from our past, the easier it gets to drop boulders. At least for me.

Me: true! I think that's what I'm doing with these blogs.

the mombshell
Allison always beats me here and says exactly what I would have said if I was wicked smart and had awesome curly hair. So, what Allison said.

Me: Yes! Allison is Awesome and So Are You. And I know. I wish I was wicked smart and had awesome curly hair like Allison too!

Linda Medrano
Great Song! I'm thinking it's difficult for us to let go of the past sometimes though. Your daughter is finding a way. Good for her!

Me: I love the song. It's so appropriate she could she have wrote it.

Help! Mama Remote...
I think its a precious thing for a child to recognize they gave their parents trouble in their youth. I also think they turn out to be some of the greatest adults :)

Me: Help Mama: Nicole: I think you are 100% right!

Accidental Expert

OK you've given me goosebumps. How beautiful.
You're also giving my hope that my girl will one day be able to drop some pebbles herself.

Me: I'm sure she will : )

The Sandman

2011-05-10T07:13:00.000-07:00

I am so small all I see are their legs. Eight posts surrounding me as we walk. From time to time one of them will pick me up so they can get there faster. On the way home, sticky and tired, they will bicker about whose turn it is to carry me. I keep track of them by their hair. Two girls. The elders. A red head and a brunette. Two boys. Another dark head and one as pale as my own.

They are teenagers. They want to have fun. This appendage is a nuisance but they try. I am swooped up in snug arms and we head for the water. I am safe. I know I am. Gentle swells appear as mountains overtaking me. "It's alright," I hear. A girls voice. "I've got you."

"See we are floating over?" "Weee!"

I am terrified. No. I want to go back. To the sand.

It's hot and humid and no one wants to leave the water. "You take her. No, you take her."

We sit on the white sand. It sticks to our damp legs as we dig a hole. Like in the Robert Louis Stevenson poem my mother reads to me,

"In every hole the sea came up till it could come no more."

Grainy and wet we take handfuls and drip them slowly through our thumbs and forefingers in grayish clumps. Like melted wax they build up in a pointed tower. A medieval castle dotted with tiny flecks of lavender shell. Bits of coquina that scratch our fingers. My feet sit in a squishy puddle that feels heavenly on my toes. I wiggle them around to make it mush more.

After a time the tide recedes. The puddle dries up. I am bored and tired and hot and sandy. The recipe for a tantrum. They are back and forth to the water. They are teenagers. They don't want to leave. I am crying. He says, "I'll watch her." We sit against giant black boulders where the sand is softest. It sifts and blows through our fingers in the wind. They came unarmed with toys beyond a large kitchen spoon. "Do you want to go swimming?" No. " Do you want to make a castle?" I do.

He tries to create a fortress in the dry sand but it won't work. We don't have the tools. Spindly, early teens, limbs and sunburned ears sticking out from beneath his hair. His head, whiter than the sand itself, is bent with determination. And finally frustration. "I can make you a snow man," he says.Yes. Snow is as foreign to me as my world might be to a Siberian but I know what a snowman looks like. He digs a little to the cooler, slightly damp sand below the surface and grabs handfuls. He stoops,   carefully shaping the ball. I am enthralled. Smoothing his fingers along the surface he props them on top of each other, about a foot tall, leaning against the boulder for support. I am delighted as we search for bits of shell and sticks to complete him.

I sit.  Gritty, sticky and tired but happy and overcome with love and hero worship.
When it is time to go I don't want to leave my treasure behind.

My big brother was magic.

He made a Snowman out of Sand.

This post is inspired by The Red Dress Club   RemembeRed Prompt : Sand

I love this memory and couldn't resist. But participating in anything makes me feel like I'm gonna throw up, so I'm going to push publish as fast as I can now and then run!

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

But Does It Define Me?

2011-05-07T16:11:00.000-07:00

Surprise! I'm back again already. Which may mean I have a remarkable amount of free time on my hands. Or that I'm not doing other stuff I should be doing. You decide : ) Besides, it wouldn't be a Special Holiday if I didn't mark it with some Really Bad Hokey Poetry!

I am twenty one years
From my body she pours
With a smile they lay her upon me
Take her. She is yours.

A short time freed daughter
A fifteen months wife
Twenty one years of myself
Now A mother for life

I have done many things. I have not done everything. When I look the choices I have made and ask myself, how have you done? I have to say, Ok. Which as you may know works for me : ) If I ask, what have I contributed to this world? What is my masterpiece? Did I win a Nobel prize? Did I secure world peace? Did I save the environment, lead a nation to greatness, create art found in the great museums, write the book that defines my generation? Well, hell no.

As some time passed
I considered the choice
I listened to the multitudes
But chose my own voice

I am twenty seven years
When my life I define
Reach for this burden of love
I take her. She is mine.

But I can say to the world, Look, I made you these human beings. The glaze is a little cracked on my first try but it gives it amazing depth and character and I think I completely missed a piece on that second one but it's so beautiful and exceptional the way it is, no one notices and the small one seems like just an adorable trinket at first glance but is so intricate and complicated you can stare at it for hours and never completely figure it out.

I am twenty nine years
Sooner than we thought
But we have no less joy in this
blessing We wrought

Snatched at first breath
I invoke the divine
Battle the fates for this prize
And win. She is mine.

It still remains to be seen what my actual contribution to the world will accomplish. Some may say that it is a waste to feel that motherhood is all you have to offer. Well. I don't think it is all I have to offer. But out of everything that I have done and plan to do it is what has real meaning for me. And really, even if I did change the world, or define my generation in some way, or even just did a kick ass job at whatever I do for a job, all of it is just "something I did." Anyone else could have done just as well if they had a mind to.

My days and contributions to the world may be transient and whether my accomplishments are unremarkable or remarkable to others, wordly awards and accolades mean nothing to me.

Whatever they may give,

I am a mother as long as I live.

Besides, who needs a Nobel prize.

I Got A Spatula !

Flip the spatula to read more

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD SPATULA!!!!!!!

In Which We Get Lame In Our Old Age

2011-05-05T05:03:00.000-07:00

Last July I wrote this post about My Summer Vacation.

My family wore me down until I agreed on our plans.

When our golden retriever died our Big Dog was heartbroken and lonely. So we got a little puppy.

For Him.

We found one and patiently waited for him to be 8 weeks old so that we could bring him home. It had been a long time since we had a ~~baby~~ puppy in the house.

9 Weeks

We have always loved our dogs and vaguely remembered how old they were by how old the kids were and the approximate time of year we got them. We never tried to keep up with something like a birthday for a dog. ....or freaked out because they threw up and spend $300.00 to get them tested only to find out they had eaten an acorn. Or ask and pay for special soup bones at the grocery instead of just regular chew bones. Or purchase special food bowls and food and measure it out carefully twice a day and soak it in water for exactly 15 minutes...because we became paranoid about bloat. And wait till they finish to wipe their face with a paper towel.

They have always been an important part of the family but we would never dress them up... and then take pictures of them...or blog about it...

At 6 Months

Biggest says that at work they have noticed this is a special type of empty nest syndrome. Even if they haven't all left yet, when the children begin to grow up and definitely when they move out, perfectly sane clients who have been bringing their dogs in for years, and treating them like dogs, start to lose their minds. They start with a new puppy. And they spoil it rotten and treat it ~~better than~~ like one of their children.

We of course would never do something like that.

But as long as I already blogged about getting My Summer Vacation last year and dressed him up for Halloween because my kids were too old and posted it on my blog I thought I would update on him.

Because it's his Birthday!

Our ~~Baby~~ puppy is One Year Old!

He grew a little bit

Of Course the Seamonkey hasn't been calling him "The Birthday Boy" all week and planning to make a giant hamburger for us all to share with him......

ok...he has....

BUT Under No Circumstances Will I

oh never mind.....

; )

TO:"i didn't call my mom and came home at 4:30 am i grounded"

2011-05-01T13:26:00.000-07:00

My guess is you aren't in a position to read this now but all the same...

To the person who found my blog very early this morning by Google searching:

"i didn't call my mom and came home at 4:30 am i grounded"

I don't know you but at the same time I do. You should have looked beyond the first page of this blog. I could see way beyond that question. I could feel the answer in my heart when I saw that search term. ( Didn't know I was watching did you? I'm a mom. That's what I do. )

I'm assuming Cha Cha didn't touch that with a ten foot pole but I'm mentally 2 inches from your nose.

I'm going to guess that:

You are Not Grounded.

You are Planted. You are Anchored. You are Cemented.

You have no friends, no phone, no TV, no computer, no Ipod,

All you have is an Iamgrounded. For a very long time.

Your family knows, your grandma knows, your local police department may know and your friends parents know and guess what? Your friends aren't allowed to hang out with you anymore. Or you aren't allowed to hang out with them. Either way. If you are ever free again and you try to sneak to hang out you will be busted because you will be watched. Your hard won privacy and independence are gone. If after a time you are physically free you will still be watched carefully. You will be checking in and reporting your every movement and it will be verified. You are considered as aware of repercussions as a toddler playing near a road.

You are demoted to virtually riding in the seat of the grocery basket and being led along on one of those rubber leashes because you have proven:

You are not mature enough for the privileges you have been given.

You cannot be trusted.

I imagine you will have heard a story of fear that you will never be able to truly comprehend until you have children of your own. Fear of what can happen when you endanger yourself by putting yourself into a situation where no one knows where you are. If a friend or their parents let you stay without your parents knowing, your parents will be somewhat relieved but for that friend-and the parents, it won't be pretty. But, if this isn't the case, count yourself lucky to be alive. Because somehow I don't think it was because you fell asleep at a friends house watching a movie. (By the way, we have all heard that one before) Be thankful you are going home even if it is to get in trouble and that your parents aren't going home from the morgue.
Even if you weren't doing something really wrong it is bad for your family to have no clue. Car accidents. Crazy people. How can your family begin to get help if they don't know where to start? Don't ever endanger yourself like that.
If your parents are really angry you deserve it. No one deserves to be put through that kind of fear. It makes a Saw movie look like Dora the Explorer in a parents heart. Whether you were truly in a dangerous situation or not is irrelevant. Anything Can Happen and Nothing is worse than not knowing where your child is.

Apologize to your Mom and Beg her forgiveness. Clean your room. Do your chores without a peep and offer to do extra. Do your homework without being told and do it well. Accept responsibility for your actions. This is the first step. Do not argue. You have no ground to stand on except the earth you are blessed to walk with a family who loves you.

Someday you may be worthy of some trust again. It will start small. Don't complain. Prove yourself bit by bit and be glad of the opportunity. If you mess up you are back to square one.

Most of all,

Don't ever do that to your Mom again. Even if you're screwed up. Contact Home. Your Mom would rather be pissed than heartbroken. Pissed goes away after awhile. The heart and YOU cannot be replaced.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Be Honest!

2011-04-30T06:39:00.000-07:00

Does this template make my blog look big?

The Little Girl and The Sea

2011-04-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

When she was two weeks old her family were at her grandparents swimming pool allowing her older sister some time for fun after the first days of adjustment for the recently blooming family. Wearing a tiny pink sun suit and bonnet she rested in the shade of the afternoon within her mothers arms. Her father lifted her up and approached the pool. "what are you doing," her mother asked? Her father answered in a playful voice, "going swimming." Her mothers concern followed them, She can't get wet, her belly button isn't healed." The father, young but experienced, rolled his eyes," it will be fine." He dipped her pea sized toes into the water. Her mother waited for a wail to arise. But, she merely wiggled her feet. "Look Mommy. I'm swimming", her father voiced for her." Swimming, I'm swimming" gently rocking her to and fro in the pool. Floating her in his palms being cautious not to let the water rise as far as her navel. She merely rested against her fathers stomach while the warmed water caressed her legs. Perfectly content and relaxed she swam, in two foot laps across the pool.

When she was a few months old her parents, also to entertain her sister, went to a matinee at a nearby theatre that showed non new release movies at a discount. They went to see Free Willy. Her mother thought she might sleep in the darkened theatre. She sat upright in her mothers lap, quiet and still and watched the giant screen without complaint. No restlessness. She watched.

When she was two she was playing busily as her mother watched. She repeatedly opened her laundry basket lid. Peering inside she would whisper a string of words her mother could not understand and then close the lid moving on to run about the room and then return to repeat the process. She would carry toys to the basket and put them in, mumbling in a conspiratorial manner. "who are you talking to" her mother asked, "what's in there?" She looked up and in a serious and matter of fact voice answered, "It's a whale." "A whale", her mom laughed? Yes, it's a big whale, the girl answered, He lives in the basket. It's MY whale. The game continued. Her mother told her father about the whale in the basket when he came home and how cute it was. Where did she get the idea that a whale was in the basket, they laughed? The whale stayed. For Christmas a couple months later they found a small stuffed Orca Whale and made sure Santa had it in his bag. Maybe it would be nice, they thought to have a whale that could travel along outside the basket. The little girl, loved her whale.

By chance it was during a time when Orca's just happened to be in vogue. Her mother was ecstatic that summer to find water wings shaped liked Orca's. The little girl loved them but she didn't need them for long. She had no fear of the element. She swam. She dove in and learned quickly. Once in she decried getting out. Once out she wished to be back in. The ocean massive and churning was no deterrent. She stood with strong legs against the pounding of the waves. She would dive beneath. Ride them to shore. Catch tiny fish in a bucket and play for hours. She leaned to surf at four. She swam in the pool for hours. Learning to clamp her legs together pushing hard to swim strong and fast, just like a whale. She spent endless summer days being a whale. When on dry land she drew and painted pictures. The majority of the time she drew Orca's. Countless sheets of paper covered with cavorting whales in various poses and even colors. All over her bedroom walls. On her lined notebook paper from school instead of her work. Shoved into folders and crammed into books.

Her parents indulged her desires. Stuffed Orcas. Miniature Sea World Sets complete with an orca family. Books, movies, posters. Even an Orca Trainer Barbie. The piece de resistance a four foot long stuffed Orca that took up most of her bed. The floor of her room was littered with small rubber replica's of ocean mammals of all kinds. Her first day of school in first grade she sported an orca backpack and lunch box. Her mother even threw a themed Birthday party and hand drew a Pin the Fluke on the Orca game. As she grew her shelves were populated with sea life and Wyland collectibles. The stuffed Orca Pod grew to an astounding size.

As she grew she had the opportunity one summer to share the water with rehabilitated porpoise at the Dolphin Research Center in the Florida Keys and swam with manatees in the wild. Kept newspapers clippings of Keiko when Free Willy was actually freed. The closest she could get to a living Orca was at Seaworld but it was done. Her skin shone burnished bronze through the summers. Her brown hair would be gilded gold. She kayaked the ocean and the springs. She surfed and snorkeled. She slept surrounded by sea creatures, her room an oxygen filled aquarium though if she could have lived and breathed under the sea she would have done so. She spent so much time submerged they wouldn't have been at all surprised to see her begin to evolve. Her limbs streamlined to fins. Her skin shining sleek and rubbery. Her face when she broke through the water for air was serene. Her eyes unfocused on the earth around her. She was a creature of the sea and we only curious objects she passed in her travels to better feeding grounds. If you held your head under the water you could hear the call of the whales seeking each other out in the tiny ocean of our backyard pool.

She knew the names and habits of countless residents of the underwater world. She would, she said, be a Marine Biologist. If her dream came true she would live in a tiny house on the coast in Washington State someday or among the islands of the Pacific NorthWest. She would spend her days on a boat listening, photographing and keeping records of her people. Her pod was bound to be there and she could join them. Peer from the windows of her land bound home and return their call. Be a part of their life as they were so much of hers. This dream grew for ten years.

And then one day The Girl Forgot.

Her world became populated with music and friends. She took up cello and string bass. She began to write. She began to draw more seriously and was found to be a fine artist. But not whales. Never whales. One day her mother found several bags in the hall closet and looking in found it was a burial ground. A tomb of orca's and porpoise. Going into the girls room she found it nearly bare of sea life. Stacks of books and music and art supplies. Her eye reached to the highest corner of the room in the farthest niche of a shelf and saw, only Keiko. A triumphant find years ago with his stuffed body sporting his flopped over dorsal. Lowering her eyes she found just a small group of tiny trinkets left. Still a huge fan of Wyland an underwater sculpture survives and a snow globe sporting a jumping Orca, a gift from her Grandparents, are lost amid the clutter of many interests.

The little girl no longer swam. She refused the pool saying she was tired of swimming. She shed her beach girl persona. Would no longer surf or snorkel. She said she didn't like the sand. Didn't wish to be in the sun. She was an artist. The artistic should lounge in cool darkened rooms thinking deep thoughts and contemplating melancholy moments. Her abilities backed up this choice. She hates science. The first three years of high school she systematically refused to do well in it. She botched Biology. Spaced out in Earth Space. Refused to mix with Chemistry.
And then. During her senior year she had two choices. One of them, Physics, sounded like a lot of work to her. But, there was an alternative. Marine Science. Easy, she could blow through that with ease. And she did.

And in the process she remembered.

She began to check books out of the library again. Refinding old scientific hero's and discovering some new ones. For the first time in years she came home from school buzzing with something she learned in an academic class. She tells her mother about giant octopus and evil squid. About the habits of puffer fish and the life of the mollusk. Somehow the mind that rejected her past dreams awoke. The class took a field trip to Seaworld and the girl was excited for weeks. When they arrived she strode to the Orca Tanks ready to plant herself there and absorb. The exhibit was closed. And the girl cried. Embarrassing herself but unable to stop she sobbed. She finally consoled herself by buying the biggest stuffed Orca she could find and hanging out with the Beluga's for awhile.

Now her thoughts are topsy turvy as though being pummeled by the waves. It would be a harder road because of the knowlege she denied when she lost her way. She would have to work very hard to put herself into just the starting place for this dream that a Little Girl had. She will be an artist there is no question of that but perhaps she will do more. Perhaps she can combine the two. She always did as a child. Why not now? I tell the girl that it is never too late to at least try for a dream. Whatever direction she ultimately takes there is one thing for sure.

The Young Woman Has Returned to The Sea.

This image is under Copywrite. Any use of this image without direct permission of the copywrite owner is prohibited
and may result in disembowelment by Mother Lioness.

Church Mom Blonde

2011-04-18T06:54:00.000-07:00

For the past week or so I have been sweeping up shattered hearts. The initial explosion flinging fragments into the corners of our world. I gather them up in my dustpan for mending. After the initial commotion all will be quiet for a time and then from the next room I hear a small clink. From behind a bedroom door a spray of tinkling chimes hitting the floor. I swoop in with my broom to carefully gather the pieces that I know will fit back together. The hearts will be made whole again. I know this. But they are never quite the same. On first glance the surface appears to be unchanged but to the makers eye the hairline fractures are visible. If you look inside you might see tiny chips left by minuscule moments disintegrated into dust and never retrieved. The repairs will make them stronger in the end. Shore them up and add some reinforcement to guard against future blows. I spun them too fine. Only fit for velvet upholstered cases with the word 'Fragile' carefully hand lettered on fine paper cards.
I should have used a machine shop. Crafted them with stainless steel. Easily bleached clean and scratches sand out. No dents. No rust. Just a little polish now and then and good to go. But I sweep. Endlessly gathering microscopic pieces returned to sand.

Biggest called. She wanted to know if she needed to scare any boys.

I said, ok......I mean I said, "NO PLEASE DO NOT DO THAT."

When the world around me seems out of control. When everything becomes scattered in all directions and I can't seem to get it together. I usually look in the mirror and find I'm looking pretty scattered too. It always seems that outside turmoil takes root on my head. I'll look and realize my ends are scraggly and breakage is dancing about the crown and the color has gone dull or grown out to my ears and I am the poster child for the mess around me. So I take action.

I cut my hair.

Not short. Just to the shoulders. Short has never suited me but I don't think Hag does either so it has to be done. And afterword I feel a little shocked. And strangely more capable.

It was time to redo my highlights as well. I knew this because I was in the store with Littlest recently under that wonderful lighting and she suddenly looked at me and then came very close peering at the top of my head and said,

"Wow, I haven't really looked at your hair lately. You are really getting old."

I am that blonde as a child turned kind of Spanish moss color naturally with a good amount of gray thrown in. Very light highlights work best for me and I like them because they blend more naturally and my roots are more subtle as they grow in. But. I had to face facts. The fact is I still have some damage and the bleaching really fries my hair. The gray doesn't like it either. And It's also a pain in the butt to do and I didn't feel like messing with it. So. It wasn't a good idea.

I would have to completely color.

I have done it from time to time but never have been happy with the result. A couple of years ago I was in the store with Middlest and looking at a box of color when she exclaimed, "No, don't do that!" When I asked why she answered,

"That's Church Mom Blonde!"

She explained that when sitting in church she would look around and ALL of the blonde moms.. had the same color hair. She sweetly told me that she thought my hair was pretty the way I did it and I didn't look like everyone else. The next time I went to church I checked and Oh My Goodness. She was right. So that took care of that. I vowed to never become a Church Mom Blonde.

Being really smart I took Middlest to the store with me. I carefully scrutinized all the possibilities and picked up a box to read it. Once again I heard, "No, don't do that! It's Church Mom Blonde." I explained that it just had to be done and asked her opinion, "Which one doesn't look like Church Mom Blonde?"
To which she scanned the shelves and answered, "They all DO."

So. I look at the boxes claiming color depth and glittering highlight and

I KNOW THEY LIE

But I convince myself that maybe technology has improved the results and I really will have that pretty blend of bronze and gold with silver strands gilding it. Look, on the box it says my dark blonde will will glow golden and my gray will shine with shimmering light.

I BUY THE LIE.

One of the reasons I color my own hair is that I actually know what I'm doing. Or at least I did 20 years ago so I figure I'm safe. Despite the green gray cast to my natural hair I know that hidden deep in the shaft are insidious red molecules generated by my Irish ancestors. So I choose a 'cool' shade to counteract brassiness.

"Champagne Blond."

They didn't mention it would be PINK CHAMPAGNE

which is what I saw when I was toweling my hair after coloring. I had a moment of total panic and ran outside to see if it could be true. Thank Goodness. It was only a dull flat shade of "Church Mom Blonde." Until I went back in the bathroom. Which is when it occurred to me that some time ago we replaced all our bulbs with fluorescent. Whoo, that was close. I will blend in with all the other church moms and not be noticed at all. As long as I never am under fluorescent lights again.

But that's ok. I decided it might be kind of fun. I little bit of rebellion. A little bit of kick to show that I'm Not Your Typical Church Mom.

Until this morning in the kitchen when Littlest looked at me sadly and said, "Mom, don't color your hair anymore. Face it."

"YOU ARE TOO OLD"

Moon Music For My Second and Third Phases of Child Developement.

You'd Be Happy If You Were Wearing Roller Blades

2011-04-14T12:02:00.000-07:00

They say to write about what you know. As far as I can see I know alot about looking at my feet and grocery shopping. Some time ago I wrote a post concerning the fact that strangers tend to accost me in public places and start to talk. Sometimes they tell me stories. Life stories. How I try to avoid it but it always happens and in the end what harm does it do to allow someone to be heard? You might even learn something. So as usual I went to the grocery store this morning.

I was looking at cookies and glanced up as someone was approaching and I just got that feeling. So I turned around in the other direction and became engrossed with chips. But. I heard the voice anyway. Still halfway down the aisle. I didn't look up and it was repeated more loudly.

"You'd be happy if you were wearing roller blades!"

I looked up to see a tall thin figure dressed in green t shirt and shorts, tennis shoes and a fedora. Just being friendly? The figure was adjacent to me now and I recognized what I was dealing with. Missing teeth. Sun baked skin. Worn about the edges. The voice just so slightly slurred though the jaunty walk was still stable. Someone must have given him a couple bucks and he missed the beer aisle by one. It's best to keep it short but not be rude. Besides my first thought was, "He's right. I probably would be happy if I was wearing roller blades." So, I said so, and turned back to the chips hoping he would move along, but no, he was in full swing.

"You know, if you never grow up you never get old."

I looked up again at the head to toe green and narrow fedora. Peter Pan?

I gave a quick smile but in that instant I recognized all. There is some truth in this statement as well. Being young at heart can lighten your life. Sometimes I get tired of being a grown up and lately I have been very tired of being a grownup. But I do what I have to do. This person was right about keeping sight of the lighthearted. He was also a lesson in what can happen to life when you run away from reality. He grinned with the brown stumps of a few teeth still left to him.

"Really, he said, I'm forty five and look", He tipped his hat and lowered his head to show a balding top like I would be shocked to find that he wasn't really twelve.
He said, "It's mostly doorways. And ceiling fans. Not so much the ceiling fans but the doorways"....he was losing track of his train of thought.

This poor man was exactly my age. He wasn't showing any signs of moving on having captured an audience, so I said, "ok, well you have a good day," and turned away to walk in the opposite direction. I thought I heard a mumbled, "run away, everyone always running away from me." Sad. It was sad.

But as I moved through the store away from Never Never Land and back to the Real World I took stock. Yeah, things are hard. Sometimes it makes me weary that everyone is running 'toward me.' For support. For answers. For accountability. For clean laundry....

Thank God. Otherwise what might my life be? It's all in how you view it, isn't it?
I felt pretty happy pushing that cart around the store. It felt light as a feather and seemed to glide with no effort along the floor. Because in my heart...

I was wearing roller blades.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Wednesday Morning 9:50 A M

2011-04-13T07:22:00.000-07:00

This has the makings for a beautiful day. It will be a clear and a perfect for anything seventy five degrees.

I have a long list of things that must be done but as so often happens when I actually have the house to myself I have piddled away three hours in accomplishing nothing. The paperwork hangs over my head like a guillotine but I just avert my eyes and stare at my feet. My toenail polish is chipped. We are out of clean towels. The kitchen counters are still sticky from the 6 am rush to school. I even have a free microwave waiting for me at the end of a short drive but.....yeah. Am I tired of the game of setting 5.99 when I need 6 and pounding the keypad with my fist if I need 1.30 and nothing else will do? yeah...but..

What if.....what if I don't?

This morning I woke up with an unfortunate combination of Run Around Sue and AC/DC-You Shook Me stuck in my head in an alternating soundtrack. What exactly does that say about the state of my brain? The brain that has inexplicably begun to fail in the spelling and grammar department but has finally grasped math. Just what I always suspected, that's what.

Sometimes when I listen to myself I realize that I phrase things strangely and I sound like I'm speaking Pennsylvania Dutch.

There is a teacher I need to call and negotiate with but that would require using the phone. Today is not a phone day. Nope.

10:20

Well I have successfully diverted doing anything for another 30 minutes.

10:21

31

A Nice Nun Story

2011-04-08T07:22:00.000-07:00

Over my lifetime I have heard and read numerous stories of mean and cruel nuns scarring children for life. Some of the stories are humorous and some truly are not. The legacy of Catholic School sometimes seems to be "who had the meanest nun." The tormentor in my Catholic School story, however, was Not A Nun. She was a lay teacher. And a more nasty, sour, vitriolic old witch never walked the planet. But she had a nemesis. As a result, even though I have not been a Catholic in my adult life, I love nuns. I think they are lovely. And my nun was wonderful.

This is a quick digression to gush about nuns, so you can skip it if you wish. I have always admired and respected nuns. I have huge admiration for Mother Teresa and I adore Saint Bernadette. I have a rosary with some spring water from Lourdes that my mom bought me in Tijuana. Of course it's real! Have faith ; ) I read The Nuns Story, a novel from 1956 by Kathryn Hulme, it's a great book. Sometimes I turn on the Catholic channel and watch Mother Angelica or listen to them saying the rosary. I find it peaceful. I don't want to be a Catholic but I think Nuns, Are Awesome.

Anyway...

I believe that the flashes of memory from my Kindergarten and first grade years, with their partner of afternoons at Aunt Kate's Fly Swatter Wielding Nursery From Hell, are so very clear in my mind even after all these years because they were traumatic. Can we really remember events from an early age that clearly? Well I do very clearly remember that in first grade we had a Christmas gift exchange where names were drawn and I was very excited that a little boy named John had my name and very upset that I had Robert, a freckle faced lad with perpetual green snot hanging out of his nose. I begged my Mom to let me buy John a present too, but she said "No. Only the one whose name you have." I was terribly angry and begrudged poor Robert his Hot Wheels car, barely looking at him as I thrust it in his hands and turned away. I told John that I Really Wanted to get him a present and saved his gift of a box of lollipops shaped like wild animals in a box decorated like a zoo cage for a long time before eating them.
Due to the fact that I only vaguely remember moments from second and third grade, after I begged to be allowed to go to the public school because I didn't want to go back, I think our memories of frightening experiences can be very accurate. I was an extremely shy and nervous child. My memory of my emotional feeling while at this school is clear to me. Dread. I still feel it when I think about the place.

I started kindergarten at four. I turned 5 in October but was always one of the youngest kids in my class. This was the 1969/70 school year. I believe in those days kindergarten was optional in the public school and it wasn't as advanced as it is now. Catholic school, however, started early. We started ABC's and learning to read right off the bat. My kindergarten teacher wasn't exactly sweet. She could be very nice if you were doing well and really had a temper if you crossed her. She once screamed in my face because I decided writing my alphabet was hard and drew a picture instead. But the day my mind clicked and I started reading, I looked up in wonder at what had just happened and she smiled broadly and told me 'You did it! Very Good!' : ) I got a gold star on a prayer card that day.

Then it was time for first grade. Time to get serious. We had to wear uniforms. Navy skirt, white blouse, and a tie. The tie. A half inch slip of blue fabric that crossed at the collar with a mother of pearl snap. Black or brown hard sole strapped shoes only. Twice a week we should wear navy shorts under our skirts and bring tennis shoes for PE day. I had my pencils. I had my wonderful box of 84 Crayola Crayons. I had my yellow cigar box to keep them in. I had a red plaid metal lunchbox because my mom thought they were cute and wouldn't get me one with H R Pufynstuf on it.

My mother worked and didn't drive. She took the bus in the mornings and actually took me to Kindergarten every morning on the city bus. By happy chance the summer before first grade a new family moved in across the street with two little girls included that would be attending the Catholic School. Their mom would drive and didn't mind if I came too. Gigi. She was a nice woman with a hard life who worked nights as a waitress. Sometimes my mom had to leave early and I would finish getting ready alone and then go across the street.

My first grade teacher met her class with a frown daily. She was strict and all business. She struck fear in our hearts walking us over to church for prayers. We were required to bring lace veils and wear them there. I wonder about that now. It wasn't something our mass normally required. I think it was her own preference. The teacher kept them in her desk for us. Before we went down she would admonish us about our behavior with threats of 'Father' being angry and coming after us if we didn't do things correctly. Within the church she hissed orders through clenched teeth. I was so petrified most of the time that I didn't remember anything. Afraid to make a move I often was in trouble for not moving at all. When someone stole my awesome box of 84 Crayola Crayons and I was apparently in meltdown mode, my mother finally went in to have a chat with this teacher. My mother learned then that I was not exaggerating. When she came home I asked about the crayons and she said, 'I couldn't get an answer about anything.' Later she told me. "all she would talk about was how you kept chewing on the ends of your tie." She was completely fixated on it.
Yes, due to overwhelming anxiety I had become a TIE CHEWER! Disgraceful. The only thing more unforgivable would be....Not Having A Tie At All. *Gasp*

My dad kept my ties in his desk. Sometimes I would forget to put them away after school. Sometimes I could not find my tie. Often there was no one there to help me look. Sometimes Gigi had a spare. Sometimes she didn't. When she didn't I had to go tie-less. This happened more than once. When we had inspection in the morning the teacher would sputter with anger about my missing tie. One morning she had enough!

"You go down the hall to the Principles Office and tell SISTER that you have forgotten your tie!"

She glared with an evil gleam that let me know I was done for. The rest of the class froze in terror and disbelief staring with their eyes bugged and mouths hanging open. Sent to the Principle! Sent to Sister!

"I have had enough and I will let The Principle Take CARE OF IT THIS TIME !" MayBE thEN YOU Will leARN YOur LESSON!"

She left me in no doubt that I would be flayed alive and returned to class a bloody pulp to stand as an example to the others of the repercussions of sin. Breaking the eleventh commandment. Thou Shall Not Go Tie- Less in school.

I was silent and terrified as only a critically shy, anxiety ridden little girl could be. I slowly made my way down the cavernous high ceilinged hall alone. I glanced up at each door cautiously. Unsure of finding my way by myself because we always traveled in a line with an adult at the head. Finally I arrived at a door leading into the Principle's office. I hung back standing awkwardly in the doorway. A woman sat at the big desk, writing. She was intimidating in a full black habit. Only the beige of her face and hands stood out against her cuffs and wimple. I can't remember the details of her face but I can see her hands holding the pen clearly. It was her. The Principle. She looked up and said,

"Yes? Come in. What is it?"

I told her Mrs. : ( had sent me.

"Come and sit down. What did you do? Tell me."

The tears starting to leak out I began, 'i don't have my tie.'

"Why don't you have it?"

I can't remember exactly what I said. But I explained my tie not being in it's usual place and that I looked everywhere and probably told her no one had been home to help me look as well.

I waited for her forehead to wrinkle and her voice to raise. Instead we chatted for a little while and she told me to be more careful about remembering my tie.

"Yes Sister." Was it time for my punishment yet? What would it be? A paddling? Fed to wolves?

She opened her desk drawer and I watched closely as her hand reached in wondering what form of torture would be produced. Her hand emerged holding...

a tie.

'Here you are. Wear this one today but remember to bring it back to me directly after school. Don't forget." And then...

She smiled.

I was in shock and awe and felt an incredible flood of LOVE and relief wash over me. I was off the hook. When I entered the classroom wearing my substitute tie the teacher greeted me with anxious hope. You're Back? What did she do about it? I couldn't help my smile. 'She gave me this tie to wear today.'

I still remember the look of disappointment followed by rage that came over the women's face. Bull dog framed by tight, graying pin curls. But. I was unscathed by it. I had. A tie.

Her hatred of me was unrivaled from that day forward and she found any way she could to make my life a misery. This is what she accomplished. My parents and Gigi took their daughters out of the school and let us go to public in second grade. Oh yeah! Freckled Robert and his Snot turned up in my public school class the next year too. The Catholic School lost four tuition's that I know of.

As for my Nun, I never forgot her. I would love to thank her now and a few years ago I contacted the school and church to see if she was still alive and if I could write her. They claimed they don't keep records of where transfers are made. I'm not sure I believe that, but I find it understandable that it may be a safety precaution. But I am so grateful for her kindness that day. I was a very scared child and this Nun was kind and understanding. It is the only memory I have of not feeling terrorized while there. In only a few moments in time she made an indelible impression on my life. Though the shortest part of this story it is the biggest part and gives me something to keep in mind when interacting with others. Truly,

Everything we do matters.

And can last a lifetime.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Gonna Take a Merely-Mental Journey

2011-03-31T08:46:00.000-07:00

This has been a rotten week. One of those weeks where if the world at large mess isn't enough there is always everyday life. The little things. One of those weeks when the kids are contrary and strangers are rude. When nothing ever seems to get finished. When appliances and technology malfunction. When you find a hole in your yellow scrubbing gloves. After you stick your hand in the water full of lysol cleaner. Where perfectly trained dogs randomly deside to eat walls and poo on the floor and the cats fight with each other. The kind of week where you wake up and are glad it's a whole new day. Until about noon when you are ready to say, 'next please.'

We are having severe thunder storms and tons of rain which actually makes me happy becauseI love that kind of weather and I refuse to leave my house today unless it catches on fire. Except of course Biggest and DecentGuy are taking Littlest on a trip and they will be out on the roads in it all day. So, with clear visions of overturned vehicles and smash-ups caused by the weather courtesy of the evening news dancing in my head, I will be worried about them. All Day.

I thought about writing a post called 'I am Grumpy. Hear me grumble but instead I decided to take a little trip. In my head. Coming?

What will I bring?

Some music. I always have a favorite song of the moment but This Song is the Song Of My Life. I have never put it on my blog because I was waiting for a special occasion but it occurs to me that I don't wait for an occasion to listen to it. It is there for me always. Especially on weeks like this it has soothed my soul. This song is my friend. In keeping with this week it has been a real PITA getting some version on here. This one has nothing to watch which is good.

Ah, something to read maybe!

One or maybe all of these books by Joyce Carol Oates. The links lead to summaries that I don't think really do them justice. I couldn't find a review that seemed to really hit it exactly right. They are wonderfully twisted and so easy to get lost in. They have my #1 criteria for a favorite book. A damn good story.

Bellefleur

Mysteries Of Winterthurn

A Bloodsmoor Romance

This trip will be outdoors so we need a picnic. What will I bring?
Bologna and Frito sandwiches. Only I will pronounce it baloney and eat it without mustard or mayonaise because I don't like mustard or mayonaise. Part of a Mental Journey is escaping adult cares so I will eat like a child. How does it sound? Disgusting? They are delicious. And always taste best when you have that particular 'been outdoors all day' kind of hunger.

This isn't about the pictures themselves. My skills are nil and I didn't take all of these. Anyone in my family could have taken any of them. We don't keep track. It's about remembering and experiencing.

Where am I going in my head? Easy. Here.

Ready? You can smell the green as you walk in.

As we travel we will be on the look out for these.

And these. We must be cautious.

But if we are aware of our surroundings we will be safe.

And then we will find it.

Maybe we can follow this woman and girl

whom I have,um, never seen before in my life...

up this trail.

And find this.

And this.

Can you hear the water rushing?

The sound fills up everything bouncing off the rock walls.

It's amazingly cool even on the hottest days. You can smell moist life all around you.

It is the smell of the riches of the earth.

After awhile I will end up here.

That rock is as cool as if it had been taken out of the fridge.

I will sit here and listen to the river flowing past.

I will listen to the birds and watch the butterflies.

Tiny blue ones and giant yellow ones swooping on the draft.

I will look up at a canopy of fresh greenery.

I will feel the carpet of moss beneath my feet.

I will hold wet stones in my hand and know the earth.

I will turn them back in forth in the sneaking sunbeams

watch the mica flash like jewels.

I will lower my fingers and let the water run through them

until they begin to grow numb with cold.

Then I will sit silently with my eyes closed and breath.

The breath of life

And hear the song of the earth around me

The tune of creation

Well, I am feeling better. I even forgot about the books. I'll save those for bedtime : )

Where would you go on your Merely Mental Journey? What would you take with you?