The View From My Front Porch

Rules for Newly Mandated Summer Siesta

2011-06-15T15:28:00.000-05:00

1) Siesta begins when the participant reaches a horizontal state.
2) There is no touching during the siesta. This includes, but is not limited to: tickling, rolling on, groping, playing with participant's hair or setting LEGO objects on any portion of the participant's body.
3) There is not talking. ESPECIALLY sentences that begin with "Mom..."
2) The duration of the siesta will vary.

We like to watch the sports

2011-06-04T20:40:00.000-05:00

Today we have watched more sports on TV than we have watched over the entire last year. (Occasional visitors take note, we have acquired a t e l e v i s i o n . We hear it's all the rage.)

Tennis in the morning.
Rugby in the afternoon.

Hockey this evening.

During a break, Jbird went out to practice his own new sporty skill: riding without training wheels. He was busy studying the big kids at the park and pondering the mechanics of a wheelie.

While watching the Stanley Cup playoffs:

n: "there sure are a lot of *itches on this."

smith: "excuse me?!?"

n: "there sure are a lot of *itches playing."

smith: "what?!"

n: "there are a lot of *itches playing hockey. Tomavich, Orescovich. There's a lot of vitches."

Go Canucks!

Mother's Day

2011-05-09T13:50:00.000-05:00

I hope all the mother's out there had a fantastic day. Happy Mom's Day mom! (I know you got the card, but a blog shout out can't hurt.)

I had a splendid Mom's day weekend. Smith took part in one of the kid's classroom's dad's camping trips (lots of possessives there.) So the boys were gone from Friday afternoon until Sunday. So I was home. alone. in my own house. with no one to cook for, clean up after or schedule my day around. (except the cat. We named her Hermione, by the way.)

What I did:
-ran 2 errands for Smith, one of which was get his car inspected - I wasn't feeling lucky.
-bought a pair of shoes.
-went to see Jane Eyre.
-Drank 1 margarita. (it's been close to 5 years since I've had a rita. why? I don't know.)
-Stayed up late watching Downton Abbey.
-Went for an open water swim
-Went for a bike ride
-Painted my toenails
-Bought pre-cut, pre-chilled, perfectly ripe splendid watermelon. and ate it.
-Went to a friend's party with just us camping widow mom's and we tried really hard to not talk about our kids or what our husbands were doing (or not doing) while supervising hoards of children. Stayed up late talking and drinking ginger mojitos.
-Apparently slept in the next day. I woke to feed the cat and lay down again only to wake up what felt like moments later to my people coming in the front door after noon. yawn.

I also had a moment of nostalgia for my very first mother's day, 8 years ago. I walked up the hill to the pool and went for a swim by myself. It was the first time I had gone anywhere without Nbear. (that was a long 4 months.) And it was a great swim. On the walk back down the hill a boy had set out a table and was selling bouquets of lilacs from their lilac bush. I don't think flowers ever smelled sweeter.

Love to all, especially those who make us mothers.

This is one of those times when the universe is hitting me over the head.

2011-03-11T13:31:00.000-06:00

For "mental health" reasons, I allow the boys one day of hooky per school year. Jbird was in dire need last week so I could finally comply on Friday. I brought him with me to the Y so I could go to yoga (yeah! my knee is strong enough to manage yoga!)Afterwards he asked about visiting the Town Lake Animal Shelter. It's next door to the Y and we often drive by. It is brightly painted and the kids always ask if we can go. On this particular day, I felt we had time to do it -- and we could even be sneaky about it. Smith wouldn't have to know! (he's happy to be a mostly pet-free household at the moment. He doesn't count the fish or the chickens...)

So there we were, sneaking out of school for the day and sneaking behind Smith's back and WHAM! we meet a film crew and make the news.

Sadly, we didn't even get to meet our "Rhino" because technically the shelter was closed to the public for another hour. So we wandered outside the fence looking at the variety of barking dogs. And then we went out for a leisurely pancake brunch.

After we picked up Nbear from school the boys were puttering around outside and up strolls a cat we've never seen before. There is a large assortment of neighbor cats that visit our house, aka "Cat Switzerland" but she was not one of them. She walked right up to me and started purring and rubbing on me. Not at all like the regular skittish visitors. Jbird and N spent the rest of the afternoon teaching her tricks - walk over here, then over there, then over this, then through this hoop. She patiently let them dress her in towels and tease her with twigs. She stayed and purred.

This is her peering in the window during dinner. She was still there the next morning. And so it seems, we have a new outdoor kitty. It's officially been a week and she's still with us. No one has answered my Found Cat! emails, craigslist or signs. I have purchased actual cat food instead of feeding her the leftover pork tenderloin tidbits.

And for those family members who knew Spookers, yes, she bears a striking physical resemblance. Personality-wise? night and day different. THIS cat has yet to hiss or scratch any of us. granted, I haven't tried to take her into the shower, but I bet even then, she'd be sweet.

No name yet. We'll keep you posted.

Somebody is 8!

2011-01-30T12:37:00.000-06:00

He sure looks happy, eh? It is a birthday year without a big party so we went en famille to a nearby smallish amusement park: go-carts, bumper boats, laser tag and the like. Bumper boats were a big hit. I did not partake in the laser tag (crutches impeding my running, ahem) but the boys emerged sweaty and smiling. even Smith.

Then we returned home for his specially requested white chocolate ice cream cake. A first for me, but it worked okay.

We said good-bye to Goldentail today.

2011-01-14T11:42:00.001-06:00

Goldentail, our fish, succumbed to ick this morning.

It is the first pet the children remember dying. It is the fish we expected to die months and months ago. Nbear "won" him at the rodeo. We brought him (and we'll just go with a him just to be easy) home in a tiny plastic bowl, and I expected him to die. After all, how long had he been sitting outside in this plastic bowl as a potential carnival prize? Seriously, it could not be a long-living fish.

So I borrowed a bowl from a friend to lessen our investment into something that may not be around for very long. He was named Goldentail, from the naming conventions of a beloved series of Cat Warrior books. Goldentail hung out on the coffee table, flitting about with the company of a snail. Still he survived.

Our petsitting needs now involved a friend coming inside the house, just to feed Goldentail, while we were gone. Our other fish, Doraguy (rhymes with Dorothy) thrives on neglect and doesn't need to be fed so often.

During my span of knee injury and subsequent surgery, I spent a lot of time with my leg propped up on the sofa with Goldentail as my "companion." I had been become used to Doraguy. She is a master of hovering, floating, studying the plants and then gracefully and pointedly moving on to the other side of the bowl. Goldentail flitted about from top to bottom, side to side with such speed and regularity it made me dizzy. SPASTIC! And all while gulp gulp gulping around for air, breathing. But still he survived.

It was during my recovery that I realized that we'd had Goldentail for quite a while in that borrowed bowl, perhaps it was time to upgrade to a real tank with more space and an air bubbler thingee. A perfect Christmas gift!
Of course our story takes a turn here, for in our enthusiasm for having a "fish tank" vs. one fish in a bowl, we brought home some guppies to liven things up a bit. I think they brought the ICK with them.

So today Goldentail (and the guppies) were buried outside next to the fish pond and the passion vine. And our children are very saddened by it. It is never easy.

Christmas tree and spirit abound!

2010-12-12T12:23:00.000-06:00

This year we took the leap (plunge?) to fake tree. Today is the day set aside to install her. Who knew that would involve rearranging our entire living room? That is what is occurring before my very eyes as I sit, resting on my sofa perch. I have a saintly husband. He may not always effuse a fountain of holiday spirit, but his wielding a vacuum, rearranging rugs, swapping out chairs and sorting musical instruments is just that. Thank you my dear!

Post-op!

2010-12-10T18:06:00.001-06:00

I have survived the surgery to install a new ACL in my knee. Of course while the Dr. was in there he was kind enough to fix my meniscus, a fractured femur and remove a random chunk of bone that just happened to be in there. Anyone out there missing a chunk of bone?

In my usual fashion of fun drug non-compliance, my recovery has amounted to the fine art of balancing pain and side effects. When the side effects are greater than the pain, it's time to try the next one. Today I am happy to report that I'm on to Tylenol. My mom, who is graciously here lending a hand, was quick to point out that I could start drinking again if I timed it right. Learning from the master. The Tylenol will probably not result in my irrational itching (something that seems benign until it happens to you,) falling asleep at random, being severely dizzy (not a fun challenge on crutches,) and having a head that felt bigger and higher than my knee. At least the feeling that my toes were "growing together" seemed to pass quickly.

Boo Ya'll!

2010-11-01T20:56:00.001-05:00

Is it bad that I'm starting with the cupcakes? probably. Earlier this month we got in the mood by turning these Nanacake chocolate multigrain cupcakes... er muffins....

into spooky skeletons!

And the big day involved a little bit of sewing for me. Nbear decided to be a Ninja, in perfect keeping with his desire to dress up as real people: Carpenter twice, Fireman, Policeman and a soldier. Jbird was a knight. Check out the shiny suit. For the picture he threw in some fangs so spice things up.

We made our rounds with our friends which included a mummy in a complete state of unravelling

and the proverbial vampire victim.

My friend Bud will be very disappointed that I dressed up as nothing but a mom standing in the street while the kids made the rounds. Some just like to do things a little bigger. Literally.

Hope yours was happy!

The Trip: Automobile-Part 3

2010-10-10T21:31:00.000-05:00

On the road again.
I felt compelled to show my kids to one place I remember being awed by when I was younger: Corning Glassworks. So on the way to Philadelpia* we made a stop at Corning. The museum is totally revamped from my meager memory, but elements of it remained. There were plenty of interesting science-y bits about glass as well as cool arrangements like this periodic table of elements completely made out of glass flasks? beakers? fleakers? (my science-y inlaws are about to correct me here.)

*take out a map, here's where I got a little crazy because it's totally not on the way to Philly.

And another display just out of baking dishes. In an artful array. It was difficult for me to not walk into this display and blurt out "exterminate! exterminate!"

Followed by gallery after splendid gallery of art objects out of glass. All fascinating. All totally not interesting to small boys. Sigh.

But something completely new are glass workshops. Initially we chose to make a glass bead, but by a major snafu which I won't bore you with here (I get exhausted just thinking about the walking we did to clear that up...) we ended up sandblasting instead.

And here is a wonderfully patterned sandblasted glass of his own creation. To be lovingly compared to the Chihuly in the lobby.

Late in the day with a tired demeanor about us, we headed south to my Aunt Becky & Uncle Peter's place. On the map, it really didn't look like we were going out of our way, but really, by the clock, we were. It took forever to get there. It was incredibly scenic and very beautiful but I also had the sense that I would never ever be driving on this road again in my life. This was also around the time that the ipod, with all the stories on it, went on the fritz (of course.) I am pleased that central PA radio still KLoves its oldies because mom and I sung ourselves silly with golden oldies. But it was still a long drive. I was ready to give up and find a place to stay overnight while my mom urged us on saying "it's not much further now." And it wasn't.

My aunt and uncle have grown children, but still have some remnants of boy things in the basement. Building things and Lego's. Jbird and Nbear were busy for the next few days. Our days usually started with the amish farmer's market goodies like blueberry coffee cake, granola, yogurt and peaches. (I'm drooling again just typing it!) Followed by several hours of the aforementioned building projects, a dip in the pool and a fabulous dinner out somewhere. (charcuterie plate, truffle fries, salmon with white beans and a cucumber gin reduction followed by a tres leches cake with lavender honey ice cream at the Silver Spoon, being one such fabulous meal out!)

Here Uncle Peter is giving J a lesson about baseball. And math. All good.

Then it was the morning of Jbird's 5th happy birthday! Baba was the gracious grandma and hid cash all over the house for him to find. Aunt Becky took him to the toy store to spend it. And then, even better, they babysat the boys while I had a night out with my cousin David. Let me start by introducing you to the meatballs:

I should back up and say that the evening didn't START with the meatballs, but these lamb meatballs were the highlight of my night. David and I first stopped in a swank bar that used to be a bank and had grown-up cocktails before heading out for tapas. Then we feasted. Now, I've long joked that I come from a family of eaters and this was certainly true of David and I that night. At one point I looked around us at the other quiet couples, seemingly out on dates, negotiating the last tidbits of this or that dish and trying not to overeat in the eyes of their dining companion. Well. That was not us. Plate after plate was licked clean and washed down with sangria. I was amazed that it was always the most unassuming looking of dishes that pleased the most. Like the meatballs. They just look like lamb meatballs don't they? ha. ambrosia. And those round flat looking brown things in the picture below? They look like nothing don't they? Squid, chargrilled with chorizo oil and a side of lemon and out of this world.

Honestly? I was completely stuffed. But there was more to be had. We took a stroll (to let that food settle down into those special crevices that we Hubbell-descendants have in our legs to allow dessert to happen...) and wandered over to a sweet, quaint, old soda fountain ice cream shop. Just look at the lovely syrups!

Flavors galore of course, with all types of toppings and phosphates and fizzes. Just about everything to whet your whistle. I ended up with a peanut butter sundae. Served by the cutest girl to ever serve me ice cream anywhere. I wanted to take her home with me (and her ice cream too.)

For all the times I've been to visit my aunt and uncle, I've never technically been TO Philly. They live outside of town in a lovely, lush green suburb on the edges of Amish-ville. David gave me the nighttime walking tour of the highlights. No, I didn't get to see the Liberty Bell, but I walked by it. Ben Franklin bridge? Lit up in lights. We spent a bit of time down by the water checking out the swans, the boats and the bridge.

Then it was truly the witching hour, the last train back and we dashed back to the station. Bye David! Thank you for a truly memorable night out!

The next day we compared notes on our evening. The boys had amish made angel food cake with ice cream. I told them about our grown up cocktails, like dirty martinis and manhatans and N quips that David must like the Dirty Sock-y Tinis.

On the road again. We said goodbye to my mom here (she'd been a trooper and a saint to come this far!!!) and went off through Lancaster on my way to see my oldest best friend Jennifer. Memorable sights along the way: barefoot Amish girls pushing their scooters along the road.

We arrived at Jen's a little early and were greeted by all sorts of beauty. Butterflies galore and the sweetest cat ever. (I swear, if I could have figured out a way to take that kitty home with me, I would have!) Nbear somehow fixed the frog fountain in the pond too.

Jen and I had a fun night of catching up. She is one of those friends who I don't see very often, but when we do see each other, we seem to pick up right where we left off. I still feel like I can tell her anything and she would understand.
I also got a sneak peek at some old friends: Willy and Wanda. Jen and I played with these when we weren't playing Barbies. Or dissecting field mice. Or playing chase in the corn. We played a lot. They look remarkably clean, don't they?

I am always sad to say goodbye to Jen because I know it'll be awhile before I see her again. I'm so glad that it worked out that we could see each other. And I'm glad her husband Matt Damon was there too. (Just kidding Don, but great to see you too, albeit briefly!)

On the road again, for the longest stretch yet. We powered through listening to (newly purchased books on CD) Huckleberry Finn and Tales of a 4th Grade Nothing and then got the ipod to work again too and started listening to The Penderwicks again. (this is where I click over to Amazon and give that book a 5 star rating.) We passed through the rest of PA without event and entered via toll booth (of course) to Ohio. One nice thing about Ohio? Lovely rest stops. Of course, I come from a state with paltry excuses for rest stops. (Oftentimes it is just a picnic table on the side of the road... seriously.) So yeah! Ohio! The boys even talked me into letting them play some video games while I asked the friendly information guy for some maps and suggestions on places to stay the night. I found what must have been the last hotel room in Streetsboro and we settled in to some good old fashioned Food Network cake challenge: building a cake for the Simpson's movie. We finally tore ourselves away to find some of our own food to eat. I admit feeling worn out and weak. I succumbed to some comfort "Mexican" food. For being in the middle of Ohio, it was not bad. And it wasn't a chain. So I gave it 2 thumbs up.

Somehow on the way back to the hotel I drove to the end of "town" and found an ice cream stand. I don't know what it is about the northeast, but ice cream stands, despite only being open for about 3 months of the entire year, are everywhere. I was going to resist and just let the boys indulge, but they had blueberry. And you know I love me some blueberries. Best. Ice Cream. Ever. (didn't I already say that once in this post? This time I mean it.)

As I was planning this trip and looking at maps and routes and destinations, I seemed to recall finding an old friend on Faceblech and didn't she live in Ohio? I tracked her down and she met us at a lovely, convenient Ohio State park for a nosh and hello. Here's Tina and Jbird talking about the lovely qualities of squeaky cheese (aka Amish cheese curds.)

Her brood played with my brood and we got to catch up. Jbird kept warning us about alligators. The boys digged and swung on the swings. Tina is happy and healthy and her kids are awesome. Although it was odd to see her tall boy below. Some of you may remember him as a baby at my wedding... I remember meeting her youngest son when he was barely 2. I'd never met her daughter. whew we're old.

Same as it ever was.

The Trip: Automobile - Part 2

2010-09-28T21:48:00.001-05:00

We said goodbye to Vicky & Frank's farm and the lovely menagerie of beasts and hit the road again. We headed east along the lesser traveled road in lieu of the freeway and drove right on by the Jell-O Museum. How could we do that?! It took a lot of restraint. Have I made you my grandma's jello salad?! Legendary.

Onward to the finger lake(s).

"See that lake out the window boys? That's still the same lake!"

Halfway down Seneca Lake we stopped for some lunch at The Showboat. The menu proudly told its fun history and I quickly noted that Captain Kangeroo came there often. The kids were more interested in grilled cheese.

I include this photo, sorry mom, purely to say that this is where my mom lost her wallet, on the patio of this restaurant on the shore of this really really deep deep lake. It shows how close she was to losing it in the lake, n'ere to be seen again. Thankfully it was found, dry and complete, a few days later and returned. Happy ending at the Captain Kangeroo Cafe.

Our next stop was somewhat near the south end of the lake: Watkins Glen. Did I ever come here when I was little? I can't remember. But seeing how close it was to where we lived, I kept wondering why not. It is a lovely, beautiful, scenic place! With over 800 steps along the path to view all of its wonders. (I'm starting to understand maybe why they didn't bring me here. maybe I was a complainer when I was little... I'll have to ask.)

But we started in high spirits. So much green and interesting rocky bits and wonderfully carved rocks and waterways. Every step was a picture.

(Thank you generous person for offering to take a picture with ME in it! AND for not taking off with my expensive brand new camera/phone! New Yorkers are the best.)

Here's where things started to get shaky. In bad parenting example #1, I had come on this hike unprepared: I had not packed water. Plenty of water in the car. Not a drop with us. We were about 1/2 way up (or 1/2 way down?) and Jbird was thirsty. We were surrounded by water, but couldn't drink any. (Yes, Dad, your oft spoken quote from Rime of the Ancient Mariner rang through my head.) There was crankiness followed by madness that resulted in running away and then slipping on wet rocks and falling (bad parenting example #2 he's wearing crocs, not proper walking shoes.) Then there is utter sadness. Followed by my carrying him up the remainder of the path. (Thanks to all those who volunteered a guess after my Facebook post. In truth, I don't know just how many steps I carried him, but it had to be 100? 200? )

At the end of our travails, we were rewarded with ice cream, a playscape and a shuttle ($3 per person!) back down the glen. Whew! Here's mom at the top. What a trooper.

Onward we drove to perfect Quaker Lake. My great aunt and uncle had a house there and growing up, that's where we'd be on Sundays all summer long. My brother raced sunfish sailboats with my cousins and uncle. I would braid my other cousin's hair and swim and swim and hunt for blueberries and other treasures. On rainy days we'd play endless games and count daddy long legs in the pink bathroom (that was probably just me...) It was a wonderful place to spend a summer. The boys got to see it for themselves a couple of years ago and even Nbear could remember the route and was getting more excited as we got closer and closer.

At last! Yeah! Here's some people we know!

Here was some of the fruits of our labor at the duty free. Ah.

The first thing the boys did upon waking up the following morning was to run down to the lake to lay some squirt-gun traps for George, to pick up the battle where it left off 2 years ago.

This was followed by several days of the following scenes:

Double-Decker Pontooning

Duck Feeding (check out how clear that water is folks!)

Sailing. Or getting ready to sail. So many boats. So little time.

Eating. Outside. Always.

Cooking.
Thanks Jim for all of the fabulous pizza. Bacon Pizza is FABULOUS. who knew?

Yes. Pancakes on the grill.

Dishes. Thanks mom!

When we weren't doing all that other stuff we were playing games till all hours.

Also can't forget the fireworks.

and then it was time to go. Until next time.

The Trip: Automobile - Part 1

2010-08-30T21:49:00.000-05:00

Here is what I'll call the first leg of our trip. In Chicago we picked up our fab rental - a Nissan Versa - which totally exceeded my expectations for a "compact" rental. I am sold on that little car. We found our way to aunt alex's and literally crashed for the night (with a leg in the air and the light on.)

The next morning we were off to the airport? yup! The airport. Totally last minute my mom decided to join us - she flew up to Chicago and we picked her up on our way out of town. Then we were off through the first of many many many tollbooths. There wasn't much to see or report until Flint, Michigan. There we had the most fun ever at a rest stop, getting ice cream. It was skill crane meets ice cream vending machine. We had to do it more than once.

As we got closer to the border, this thought crosses my mind: was I supposed to get some sort of document to take my children into another country without my spouse??? [insert mild panic attack here] Then Oh! Canada! we are just fine and stop for the night in Sarnia, Ontario, at the bottom edge of Lake Huron. During my research online, I found many lovely little things to do in Sarnia and sadly we did none of them. It was the first pang of regret in my trip: I wished we had more time! I really wanted to see all the things in the Stones N Bones Museum. But we did stay at the lovelist Holiday Inn I've ever seen. After settling in (ie jumping on the beds and turning on the TV) we hit the pool. We listened to the band playing at the outside bar, then we enjoyed some hot cocoa and a perfect night outside with stars, a cool breeze blowing through the pine trees and the exciting feeling one gets when in a whole new place. (We ignored the waitress giving us funny looks for ordering hot cocoa in July...)

The next morning we woke up and looked out the balcony to see a family of ducks sneak under the fence into the pool.

For breakfast the boys had pancakes and the waitress brought out 2 pitchers of syrup - one "table" syrup and the other was "real" stuff. Let's just say that the real stuff was really really good.

On we drove to Niagra Falls. We took the plunge (literally) and rode the Maid of the Mist which is a boat ride to see the falls up close. We suited up like blue Smurfs (the US side of the falls got to be yellow smurfs) and set off to get wet.

And wet we got. My mom, in typical fashion, took off her blue tarp and was pretty dry. Me? She couldn't understand how I got so wet. (there are no pictures of that. obviously.)

Here we are gazing at the top.

Here we are at the bottom looking up. Don't we look tiny? I'm not sure which I held on to tighter, my small child who could have been knocked overboard in a moment of unruly churn or my iphone which I had out to capture the magic of the moment.

We enjoyed walking around and soaking up the gracious views (noting that the squirrels are black in Canada) before setting off to cross the border to get to Buffalo. Finding the right way to the bridge back into the US proved very very challenging for some reason, until we discovered the duty free. Its drive-through exit lead right back to the US. handy. And, yes, we did get some liquor, which was necessary after the dinner we had. We stopped at a place that looked promising on the outside, but whose inside I wish I could block from my memory. It included animitronic animals, ads on the walls for an ice cream sundae manicure/pedicure for your 'tween and a gift shop that had walls of sky-high candy... I think I also saw a water slide inside the building behind the restaurant.

Check out the view out the window, eh? We are on our way to my cousins Vicky & Frank's farm outside of Buffalo. We find their house by a most circutous route (which could be another post all by itself) and we bunk down in their camper for the night. Vicky winks and hands the boys squirt guns to wake up her daughter in the morning. hehehe. After a cock-a-doodle-doo wakeup, the boys are off to soak her into awakening and then we spend the day checking out the mama ducks and ducklings, the bunnies, the 35 chickens, Scrappy the goat, Scrappy the dog and Blue the dog, Beauty the horse, more bunnies, Gracie the mama kitty, Sammy the new kitty, and the cow kitty named Daisey. Before we left, we could add 5 turkeys to the menagerie. Then we walked through all the barns and looked at all my cousin Frank's antiques, including some old fire trucks. and flowers. and the pond.

There's not much to see in the above video, but I just had to share the sound.

That evening we had a lovely homestyle cookout with my Great Aunt Marie and some more of my cousins, some of which I haven't seen since they held me. Cousin Chris, by the way, makes a mean broccoli salad! Thanks for the recipe, cuz! Thanks also to Christian for keeping all the kites afloat.

Vicky's daughter was a most gracious host to my boys, putting up with a great deal of squirting, hide and seek, 4-wheeling! and lots of "can we go see Sammy again?" Thanks for putting up with us.

Then next day we were off for the next leg of our trip.

The Trip: The Train

2010-08-23T21:34:00.000-05:00

The first portion of my summer was spent (apart from swim lessons) figuring out how I could take this crazy trip I had in mind. I wanted to go to NY to visit family and see the lake and I wanted to go to Chicago and see Smith's sister & brother-in-law. I wanted to see my Aunt & Uncle in Philly.

I spent a lot of time going through lots of options, flying here, driving there, flying over there and back... I even went through a long spell of planning on driving the whole way (Mississippi! Graceland! Kentucky?) I would stop and see just about everyone I knew between here and there too! It was going to take a lot of time. Smith, unfortunately couldn't join us for the trip due to work (for which we are always thankful) so it was going to be just me and the boys and a lot of driving.

Despite numerous people saying "Oh! How exciting!" the more common reply was "Oh! How crazy!"

I brushed aside the comments and kept planning. I didn't see reason until a series of gentle prodding questions from Sinda came up. Questions like:
"How many hours a day do you plan to drive?"
"So how long do you think it will take?"
"How old is your youngest again? Will he do well for that long in a car, day after day?"
"How do you plan on keeping them amused if a dvd player is out of the question?"
"How do you feel being the sole driver AND the sole parent for this entire trip?"

so. Plan #4,021 was hatched instead: I would take the train to Chicago. Then I would rent a car and drive off to see my various relatives in NY & PA and then drive back to Chicago. Then I could museum visit and frolic before flying home, courtesy of ye olde Uncle Tommy's airline (we could get buddy passes and fly standby for free!) Now I was getting excited.

The morning I had been planning for what felt like months had finally arrived. We boarded our train in Austin, just behind the YMCA and set off, spying MOPAC out our window as we traveled North. We passed the school and thought of the number of times we've been on the other side, watching the train and hearing it roar past. We were now part of that roar. It's exciting.

Here is Jbird happily playing a game as our day gets underway.

The route from Austin to Chicago via Amtrak is 28+ HOURS, give or take. I have friends who were 24 hours LATE after a similar trip. So, I smartly booked us a sleeper car that would accommodate a family. We had more than ample room. It was on the bottom floor of the train car (each having 2 floors) and our berth was the width of the train; allowing a view out windows on both sides of the train. We had benches, seats and fold-down beds with ladders. The bathroom was a few steps down the hall and what you might expect on an airplane. The kids could stretch and wrestle and rest and read, build forts and play Cat Warriors until their hearts content, without bothering a soul but me. This was the only portion of our trip that I was able to read anything from the 2 books I brought. [The Learners by Chip Kidd. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.]

We spend the entire day traveling through Texas. It was after we pulled up the blankets and turned out the light that we heard the conductor announce the next stop: Texarkana. The view out the window for the entire day pretty much looked like this:

Or this:

Here was a tiny bit of excitement, a Pullman train!

Our other bit of excitement was when J locked himself in the bathroom and couldn't work the handle to unlock it to come out. There was some sadness on his side of the door and lots of calm, comforting words from my side. The porter was very quick to free my little bird, who then hugged me and promptly ran down the train and locked me out of our berth. Thankfully the older child saw reason and let me in, without bribery.

When we woke up the next morning, we were rewarded with this gorgeous view:

St. Louis by morning... ah. We totally missed Arkansas. Sorry ya'll. Next time.

Overall the train was a very pleasant way to travel. Sometimes when I take a plane trip it all feels very surreal. I step into a small metal tube and take off to land, well, it could be anywhere. Then I get off and have an adventure for awhile, then I step back onto that metal tube and I come home. I can't help but wonder "did that adventure really happen?"

I did experience some small moments of isolation too, although that was more due to my travel companions than the train. In the dining car they would seat you as space allowed, one would often share tables with strangers. I could hear many around me strike up conversations about where they were coming from and where they were going and the usual small talk. Because we were a party of 3, we were seated by ourselves, with just ourselves to make small talk. By dinner time, I was eyeballing some wine...

The train itself was clean, comfortable and safe. The people were friendly and there was no rush. The food offerings, in that special dining car, were varied enough to please a small array of tastes. But by the end of the trip the one menu for a breakfast, a lunch, a dinner, another breakfast, and another lunch, was worn out. They also ran out of some dishes and if you had the spinach salad yesterday, you may not be gung ho for it being your only option today. Here was Nbear at our last meal.

We were soon as happy as this little guy though in Chicago.

Our train was early, but the bags took forever. An easy drive to Aunt Alex's and we were sitting on her porch looking at the trees and I was drinking a grown-up drink and making small talk with other grown-ups. The cicadas were LOUD and the night was clear and cool.

Coming Soon!

2010-08-21T18:06:00.001-05:00

The full trip wrap up!

In the meantime we are in the midst of lovely back-to-schoolness. (It's not all at once for us. Jbird started first, but not for the full day yet. Nbear started on Thursday. Both will be full-on students this coming Wednesday. The annual Back To School Complete Floor Mopping is right around the corner.)

*****************************************

But first, I must report an important milestone of my own. I've lived in Austin off-and-on for 20 years now and I've never been to the quintessential cowboy-hat and boot wearing honky tonk: The Broken Spoke. Last night I lost my 2-stepping virginity. Smith and I are both equally skilled (ahem) at dancing so we took the lessons and continued to count out "quick-quick-quick-slow-slow" all night. This was to the confusion of one unnamed dance partner who only did ONE slow step. (She was leading, who was I to argue?) But then Dale Watson started singing a song of the same title. We were quick-quick-quick-slow-slowing for a good while. Smith and I also learned some fancy twirls, and we are still working on those. Smith needs to tone down his akaido-I'm-going-to-flip-you-on-the-mat grip though. And I need to stop leading. Also a note for the newbies: don't hit the floor right after they sand it.

Thanks to Sinda for the loan of the boots. She's so addicted to the toe slide she's got 2 pairs.

Who knows what day it is now?

2010-08-06T18:41:00.000-05:00

We are safe and sound in Streetsboro, Ohio. I left my oldest best friend this morning and set off to the west. We were happy to finally break out of Pennslyvania. Whew!

I left my mom in Philly. Last I heard she and her sister were off on their own adventure with nothing but a toothbrush and a nightgown...

Morning of day ???

2010-08-03T07:15:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the sudden silence, but reception for my swank phone has been completely non existent throughout Canada and New York. Even the "sweet" spot out in the middle of the lake was a dead zone.

I'm now in Philly with my aunt and uncle and just heard the announcement of hot pancakes! Gotta run! More later as cell coverage permits.

Day 3

2010-07-28T08:01:00.000-05:00

We left the balmy beauty of Chicago, leaving my sister-in-law's swank pad to drive along Lake Shore Drive - a really scenic little jaunt through Chicago. We saw the ferris wheel at Navy Pier! Canada Geese! Boats! Skyscrapers! Signs for Sue! (the famous t-rex housed at the Field Museum.)

We then swung by the airport to pick up my mom! Excitement! She decided to join us a leg or two of the journey. So off we went across Illinois, across Indiana, across Michigan. A nice shout-out to the rest stop outside of Flint - they have the coolest ice cream vending machine ever. A giant skill-crane arm swings around inside the machine to then dive down and zoom! suck up your selection. Then the arm swings back to the drop zone and lets go. We had to have 2...

That night we made it into Canada. After facing hours of (albeit lovely) green along the way, I was ready to see something different. Up ahead we saw this huge metal bridge to cross over the lake into Canada. The border guard was stern and unfriendly and I had the mild panic that maybe she wouldn't let us through. Maybe she thinks we're really not on our way to Niagra Falls and I'm stealing my kids from my (ex?) spouse and running for the border. Was there a document I was supposed to bring???? Anyway. I had a big imagination in those 2 minutes. She of course let us through and the scenery changed immediately. Sarnia at first glance seems like a quaint little town. Our hotel has picket fences. We hopped in the pool for a late night swim, sat outside and had hot cocoa (which garnered some looks, hot cocoa in the middle of summer?) But we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

[at some point in the future, the posts will contain photos. and perhaps more details. most of the posts will be texted from my phone. and therefore short. photos? I'm still working on getting them loaded, but honestly, they may all just have to wait until we get home! I'm on vacation after all!]

Day2

2010-07-26T08:28:00.000-05:00

St Louis is rather pretty first thing in the morning. Our first day out was good. Plenty to see out the window and a spacious sleeper cabin where the boys could build a fort and play cat warriors... J is "stinkypelt" N is "rottenpaw."

Only snafu of the day was j locking himself in the loo. The porter was kind enough to get him out...

Later today we will pull into Chicago for an overnight stay with aunt alex & uncle Thom.

Train travel is really nice, I highly recommend it if you can swing it!

Day 1

2010-07-25T09:54:00.001-05:00

This morning I say goodbye to Austin: to the shady joy of the cm playground, the crunch of granite underfoot on the hike and bike trail, the hot summer days spent at nw pool; we are inboard a train bound for Chicago on the first leg of a far-flung adventure.

Check back for updates! Currently outside round rock, Texas.

I slathered. I sweated. I completed another triathlon.

2010-06-06T17:01:00.000-05:00

Last year I did this:

This year I did this:
(granted I only swam and biked this year, passing the baton for the run.)

Cake

2010-05-23T12:57:00.000-05:00

I have finally found an outlet for my "illness*"

This was the cake for April.
Chocolate with dark and white chocolate frosting.

This was the cake I made in May.
Vanilla with cream cheese frosting. Gemini (ergo the stars...)

* When I'm feeling blue, I bake. When it's cloudy and cool, I bake. When there's a clean kitchen, I gotta mess it up with flour. When it's just been awhile since I've had a good oatmeal raisin cookie, I have to try a new recipe.

Ode to: My Best Friend's Ex-Girlfriend

2010-05-11T10:21:00.000-05:00

Regular readers will note I mention Sinda a lot.

I've known her now as long as Smith. eons. She's been our binary star: when we move, she moves too (our Dallas was her Houston. Our San Diego was her San Antonio...) We graduated the same year. We got married around the same time. We've each had two kids. She's decisive where I'm indecisive.

She's played RISK with Smith and so she knows what I've married. She's my personal adviser - the girl I call from the dressing room on my cell phone (she then pulls up the item I'm trying on online and weighs in.) She knows everything about this town -- I call "austin information" when I can't remember how to get to the old moxie before it moved, or to cafe mundi... she patiently re-spells the name of that cocktail we tried last night.

She's also my spontaneous friend - one phone call at the last minute and we are off! (and usually she has a suggestion of her own to make whatever it is we are doing more fun or with more people.)

Last year I started keeping a list (she likes lists too) about all the things that she does that have made my day; a small token of thanks. Hopefully this will help make her day a little brighter today.

Here is the list of those days.

January 6th -- Gave me the idea to make green chili stew with our leftover pork loin. It was awesome.

January 10th -- Sent me the CSA newsletter so I could figure out what the heck came in my bin. We still couldn't decide if they were beets? or turnips?

January 24th -- Noted that she had been juicing all the oranges from our CSA bin. The oranges had been rather smallish and ugly. But they made for a tasty treat as juice! Also inadvertently led me to start drinking grapefruit juice. AND liking it.

January 29 -- Brought red wine to pizza night. I thankfully slept like a log.

March 11-- Posted her link-laden blog post with the puff pastry recipes, the literal white wedding video and the incredibly hard to read story about children being left in cars.

April 18 -- Loaned me a fancy spring dress to wear to the fancy Ganesh Gala.

Aprilish -- "Sent me the memo" about the ultrasonic face scrubber. (After a super fun girl's weekend sleepover/Bond film extravaganza I noticed that everyone whipped out their high-tech buzzing ultrasonic cleaning tooth devices. I complained that I didn't "get the memo" that everyone had suddenly switching from the standard manual toothbrush.)

May 28th-- Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me tickets. Haven't laughed that hard in AGES.

June 21th-- Introduced me to the idea of the "shitzer." [to paraphrase: "to reduce the amount you drink, next time add a little club soda to your wine; aka a sprizter. Make the next one without the wine!" that's what we called the "shitzer..."]

July 15 -- Came up with the plan to shop. then have drinks. then go see the Harry Potter movie!

July 29th -- Again, with the great ideas: Clay Pit happy hour before seeing 9 to 5 and Working Girl.

Aug. 1 -- Urged me to at least try one thing on at Nordies. Found the dress I love on the way to the dressing room.

Aug 7 -- Loaned me a fancy frock (again!) to wear to my reunion.

Aug. 11 --- Sent me the blueberry buckle recipe with lemon syrup.

Aug. 30 -- Made crackers for a party that I didn't truly get to enjoy until the morning after. They were the perfect thing for breakfast. [Growing up, I would look forward to raiding the leftovers from the night-before-bowl of popcorn from my parent's grown up parties. It has forged my fond relationship with stale food.]

Sept 10 --- STEAMED okra. then sauteed with ginger and scallions! a revelation.

September 20 -- Finally just gave me that dress that I've been borrowing all year.

September 28 -- Girlie lunch at the 4 seasons followed by shopping.

October 4 -- With a smile sent me sale airfares to Canada.

November 14 -- Bought me a glass of champagne at the opera La Boheme.

January 7 -- Sent me pictures of the basset hound/golden mix ready to come home on craigslist.

January 7 -- Invited me to the community table dinner at uchi.

January 16 -- Hosted a girls sleepover to say hello to Lisa.
Introduced me to my new cocktail -- the Maple Leaf, or as I call it with a shot of cayenne: The Spicy Cannuck.

April. In Photo Collage Format.

2010-05-10T22:45:00.000-05:00

My desire to post weekly has been usurped by busyness.

First and foremost was the boy's camping trip. As in, no girls allowed. For a splendid 3 days/2 nights I had the most spectacular time all by myself. I was responsible for only myself, cleaning up (or not) after only one person. No schedule. Whatever I felt like doing. And I felt like going out and eating sushi and watching Hot Tub Time Machine. And I felt like doing a boatload of homework (part of my busy-ness has been taking web design classes. I've succumbed to the dark side.) And then I felt like going to a friend's party, but never got there. Instead I stopped by his house and scared him. Probably the only time I'll ever be able to say that. We stayed up late talking about horror movies. yippee. it was splendid.

This was what was happening with the boys:

Then came Nbear's dance debut. His class has been learning the fast moving styles of Bollywood dancing, courtesy of another parent, and had been invited to dance at the Dragon Boat Festival.

Then there was Nbear's piano recital.

Goofing off afterwards.

Posing with the maestro(a?)

Baba & Grandpa came up that weekend for all of the nbear festivities and we helped Baba celebrate one of her own: a birthday! We stuffed ourselves silly at brunch and then at the end of our busy day we had cake and the customary candle licking (does everybody do that?) Happy Birthday Baba!

Spring Has Broken

2010-04-17T15:05:00.002-05:00

I know it is old news now, but before Spring's first hurrah, we had a touch of winter's last hurrah: snow. Giant fluffy flakes that didn't immediately melt upon landing and lasted all day. Tiny snowmen sprung up all over town. [double-click the pic to see the flakes. otherwise this picture is entirely unimpressive snow-wise, I know.]

And then Spring Break was upon us and we celebrated at the Kite Festival (mere days following the snow, I got a tiny sunburn...)

Here's Smith's vintage 1970s kite.

The boys working the strings.

And then we embarked on the *perfect* camping trip. It was not crowded. It wasn't too far away. The days were warm, in the upper 60s. The nights were cool, in the 40s. We remembered all the fixings for s'mores. There were no bugs. No fire ants. No rain or flash floods. No trips to the ER. No rocks under the tent. We could see stars. We could hear the rush of the river below.

We have a new thing in our house.
Those who know us well are really tired of me talking about the sofa because:
a) we are indecisive. (should we get the current one recovered or buy new?)
b) we are spending adverse. (this will make 6 posts in that category)
c) I'm married to an architect. Whereas for most couples there is usually only ONE person who has a strong opinion about things like upholstery, we have two. So there has been a lot of time going to look at them and then sit on them and fingering fabrics. and not coming to an agreement.

so we've been talking about it for at least the last 4 years. Even my mom was astonished when I told her. She doesn't say "Oh...my...gawd" very often.

But our old dear finally bust a seam and was spilling her guts. Here she is in better days.

Not one to let things go (see our walk-in closet) we threw a blanket over her and retired her upstairs to the reading nook. I guess that's the "old folks home" for furniture. Maybe someday she'll get a new coat. In the meantime, we lounge on this lovely.

She looks so non-chalent, so perfectly matched, that you almost don't notice her.

I suddenly feel like a cat will be landing on our cosmic doorstep before long. this sofa looks too pristine....

Easter Post. Before summer hits.

2010-04-07T21:58:00.001-05:00

It's a busy week but instead of procrastinating on youface I thought I should post the Easter bits before it's summer and no one wants to see my eggs.

See my eggs? In their edible chocolate nest? With the scary off-putting green sugar grass? It couldn't all turn out picture perfect. But the coconut, pistachio and chocolate eggs couldn't have been cuter.

Here are some urchins wandering through our weeds scouting out eggs.

Apparently Jbird realizes that all good holidays center around candy and donned a Halloween costume.

Inspecting the haul.

Finding a brand new thing to do with our brand new "pond." It's not much more than a fancy big bucket sunk into the ground, but it has plans. In the meantime, it floats the Easter Egg Boats.

Hope ya'll had a good one.

Ode To My Bro

2010-03-10T13:21:00.000-06:00

My brother has a big heart. The biggest I've ever known.

He is older than I am and growing up we didn't always get along. There was hitting. tattling. vick's vapor rub applied to his underwear... He was going into junior high when I was in kindergarten. We didn't quite see eye to eye until I got a car. Then we had a common language. When I got my first car? The beloved Henna that smelled like maple syrup inside? He bought me a nice car stereo. AND he totally buffed out the paint when he sideswiped my car the first day I brought it home, because, well, he wasn't used to an extra car in the driveway. Also? He changed my oil regularly.

He loaned me his really cool (and expensive) racing bike so I had something fast to train on and ride in my very first triathlon.

He pulled out the stops to celebrate a Christmas with our then 92 year old Grandpa in NY; even though it can be really a pain to get to that part of NY at Christmastime when you have only a little time off and the weather and flights are lousy. It was "the right thing to do" to make sure Grandpa had a REAL tree and a REAL turkey dinner with lots of mashed potatoes and lots of presents under the tree.

He's also really nice to people he doesn't even know.
When I moved back from Sydney, I had the summer free before heading off to college. He let me share his 1 bedroom apartment. And then 2 guys that I sorta met? in Australia (in my effort to make nice with a bouncer, I gave out my brother's address because he said he was making a trip through the US) called up one afternoon and said, "Hey, our VW bus died in the desert on the drive from California and we took a bus to Houston and we're at this 7Eleven, so can you come get us?" And he let them stay there too.

When he flies somewhere, I've seen him buy something decent for the flight attendants to eat too.

He smiles when he makes small talk with the cashier, the waitress, the person standing in line behind him at the movies, the whoever. And he means it.

I can't remember a year that he didn't dress up as Santa to deliver toys to somebody.

He buys my boys the cool presents that they really really want, rather than the ones that his stingy mom thinks would be in their best interest.

And strangers are surprisingly nice to him. He can talk his way into (and out of) almost anything. One time when he came up to visit he brought his boat, to take Smith out sailing. He didn't have a good place to launch from, but headed out to the lake anyway and talked his way into a yacht club for the day to set sail. He also got the gate code so that I could come hang out at the yacht club too.

In Vancouver, he talked his way onto a boat to help crew for a race because he really really wanted to go sailing that night.

He's one of the few grown-ups I know that can really giggle.

He loves scary movies, Chevy Chase, and I'm certain that he was the inspiration for Ralphie.

He is much funnier than I am. More adventurous than I am. More able to dive into something with both feet when I tend to hang back and see what might happen. (Of course, that has earned him some nicknames, most of which relate to some bodily injury.) He has more stories that begin with "remember that time ..."

When he got married, I had a toast prepared but somehow between wrangling two youngsters and visiting with so many long unseen relatives, it was never delivered.

"To my brother, who has the biggest heart in the whole world. I'm so glad that he has finally found someone to share it with."

Now he has a couple (okay. that's wrong. a couple is two. A few? a trio? a company? a bunch?) more to share his heart with.

Happy Birthday!

The Natural Order of Things

2010-03-07T16:17:00.002-06:00

Today Smith taught the boys to play RISK.

Several hours later, the boys ganged up to defeat Smith. And so it goes with RISK and Smith.

What is it about him that makes people want to gang up and beat him at RISK at all costs?

If you give Kris a cup of hot tea...

2010-02-23T12:29:00.003-06:00

she's going to want a cookie to go with it.

And if she has a cookie with her tea, she's going to want to read the newspaper.

And when she's done with the newspaper, she'll want to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

And when the snow has stopped, then she'll pour another cup of tea.

And if she has another cup of tea, she'll have to have a cookie to go with it.

what are you doing on this snowy day?

When you are married, every day is Valentine's Day

2010-02-16T12:16:00.004-06:00

Let me start out by saying that I love this man:

Our heart day started like a charm: valentine card exchanges, candy, leisurely reading of the paper, ricotta pancakes (specially worked into heart shapes) and then a decision for a family hike. ah.

We started the hike in calm 63 degree weather. About 5 minutes into the hike, things changed dramatically: winds kicked up big time and it dropped to somewhere in the 40s (confirmed once we made it back to the wind-free interior of the car.) I'm just really glad that it didn't dump rain onto us.

Upon returning home, Smith noticed that our makeshift greenhouse had succumbed to the wind and was fluttering away. He suited up to tackle the repairs while I started dinner. (late.) Just as Smith steps back inside, I'm adding some boxed broth to one of the 3 things I've got working on the stove and squoosh! I squeeze too hard and broth pours all over everything, including down INTO the knobs of the stove, thereby causing them to repeatedly short out and start to smoke... Smith is the quick thinker and bolts upstairs to throw the breaker. Thus begins the emergency fix of our dinner making mechanisms with q-tips, a hair dryer and the extraction of the oven from the cabinet... The kids are at this point, hungry, cranky and interested in the repairs. Grown-ups are grouchy. I think, this is the time for a movie! So I set down to get things set up for them to watch on my computer. Uh-oh. Old disk won't come out. Uh-oh. Computer won't shut down. Uh-oh. Computer won't turn off. Unplugged. Uh-oh, computer won't start up. Uh. Oh.

Smith sees my dismay and leaves me to tackle the rest of dinner in the microwave and the newly shoved back in oven while he addresses the much-feared "black screen" which is now the only thing the computer will display.

Dinner turned out pretty good considering, but I will admit to being afraid to start the dishwasher afterwards...

Two Funny Things

2010-02-10T10:33:00.004-06:00

If I ran into you this week, you've already heard this story, sorry.

Smith & I had a busy Saturday morning, where I was returning from my thing just as he was about to leave for his thing. He was literally pulling out of the driveway as I was pulling up to park. Technically speaking, an adult was on the property the entire time. But in that 30 seconds of unsupervised time, I walked into the house to find:

child #1 bleeding and crying

child #2 had put a stepstool on top of another stepstool and was on his tippy toes to reach the Dove chocolate in the pantry

**************

In lieu of watching the superbowl, the boys had the treat of watching PBS's Nature program while the rest of us yelled "who dat?!" in the other room. They were of course very enthused. Nbear shared with me later what they watched:

"They had a naked mole rat on the Nature show tonight! I can't figure out why though, because it was a show all about ugly animals."

ah. the first lesson on beauty and the beholder. Here he is beholding his newly adopted "Justin."

The stuffed version looks waaaay cuter than the real thing. click if you dare.

What Procrastination Looks Like At My House

2010-02-04T21:27:00.007-06:00

This is what I did this week instead of cleaning out the closet.

You can pick your choice of captions:

"It looks like you ran out of paint."

"Uh, you know they make brushes to do that."

"Kris? I think a Leprechaun just threw up in your bathroom."

One cannot see the detail from this image that each of those green-hued dots is individually placed by my right forefinger. One at a time. Pretty much took all day.

I updated my profile TWICE on facebook. Unprecedented.

Oh. and I made cookies.

I also contemplated an entire blog post about my "new" hair.

The closet in question. Be thankful my camera wasn't wide angle enough to peer around the corner.

Birthday Bash! Clash of the Dragon Slayers Apprentices

2010-01-27T10:11:00.008-06:00

A birthday was celebrated last week with all the fanfare expected!

Nbear wanted to have a few friends over to play Capture the Flag (rules constantly renegotiated by all)

have a treasure hunt

have an appropriately themed cake

and slay the dragon.

and slay him some more.

and a little more.

you know, they don't make pinatas as flimsy as they used to...

Sci-Fi!

2010-01-13T11:11:00.003-06:00

Best Sci-Fi movie since Blade Runner?

District 9.

Before that? Of course, Night of the Living Dead.

Good science fiction isn't about aliens/weird stuff (which does have its place and is good fun - Men In Black being a good example here.) But good science fiction is created to show us more about ourselves.

District 9 was not what I was expecting. But I'm glad it wasn't, it was much better.

Change

2010-01-10T21:02:00.003-06:00

I was channeling my mother this week.

My mom has a gift for arranging things and making them look good. She has an eye for balance and color and style and can whip up a beautiful bouquet out of WEEDs found on the side of the road. She's always done this. She tinkers with her space constantly. Growing up I would hear my dad complain on the morning after coming home from a business trip that he bumped his knee on the sofa/table/lamp in the night because my mom rearranged the furniture. again. Every time I come to visit her, the first thing I do is walk through the house to see what is different, to see what she had shifted or switched out or brought out from the depths of her storage to have a new life on the shelf or wall.

This is the mantle display she did this year.

She will hang a picture on the fireplace and you will think that it is the BEST picture to hang on the fireplace EVER! because of the colors or the subject or something and you will be in awe of how perfect it seems there. Until you come the next time and she's hung a quilt there instead, and IT is the perfect thing to be on the fireplace.

These things are easy for her. Part of her makeup. She does it all the time.

I think it is a dormant gene in me until a situation arises and then it pops up and I swing into action arranging those flowers/pictures/teapot display like nobody's business and then it goes dormant again.

It hit me this week as I was visiting with a friend and we were standing in her kitchen and she was lamenting how tired she was of looking over into the playroom and seeing all the toys out and having to walk through them to get to the laundry room and I popped up and said: "maybe you should move your playroom into the dining room and move your dining room in here!"

We talked about it for a moment and then I said, "Let's just move the table in here NOW!"

3 1/2 hours later we had rearranged her entire house. Loveseat goes here, bookshelves go there. Bring in the plant from over there to here. And it really had been transformed - we could feel how the whole energy of the house had changed and we were amazed and surprised. It looked totally different and it felt really really good.

That experience made me think about change.
I could tell my friend was a little hesitant to try out the dining room in the new place, she was unsure. It's like that in our personal lives too, isn't it? Something happens in our life, an opportunity comes along or you have to make a big decision and we hesitate, unsure of this change, afraid to move forward, because it is a change and that can be scary because it is unknown. But like with my friend, once we moved that huge, heavy dining room table (even getting it totally stuck in the kitchen for awhile) once we did that, everything else fell easily into a new place.

I'm looking forward to making some changes and letting things fall easily into place this year.

Ahem. It's 2010.

2010-01-05T21:42:00.009-06:00

Yes. Well Thanksgiving is well behind us now, isn't it? Breezed right through the holidays with nary a post. And I've made a small, teeny tiny, resolution to blog weekly. (I can't really call that a resolution because I think a resolution is meant to improve oneself... okay, well, hmm... but blogging inspires reflection, a moment to study the inner workings of my self and my life around me.) Okay. screw it. It's a bona fide resolution. You'll see it in the sidebar.

So!

The kids are back to school today and I was a little sad to see them go. (I know!) We were all getting into a good groove of getting along and doing groovy stuff. I can't even say that I was tired of the Legos (and believe-you-me, there was a heck of a lot of Lego's happening in my world...)

We spent most of the holiday here, seeing the full cycle of our tree from happy new spruce to needle-dropping fire hazard.

Chritmas morning saw the consumption of the annual Welsh cookies (a family tradition of my Polish & German ancestors...)

Here is Smith about to open the first present that I ever rushed out to buy on Christmas Eve, 10 minutes before the store closed. Can you guess what it is?

Nope! Wasn't these. These socks I had for a good month before Christmas.

Dad said dessert required a torch!

Still guessing? A mandolin.

We did head south to see my folks and my brother and his family and we had a splendid time. Even made some pierogis. (ours were the mashed potato and cheese filled variety. with the usual amounts of butter and onions.)

The boys, in their usual upside down position, at my brother's house.

My mom's splendid mantle piece.

Scenes from our hike, where the signs warned us of alligators. I'm sure they were hibernating, (right?) but I still couldn't let Jaybird out of sight. Reminded me too much of one my favorite bumper stickers: "do not meddle in the affairs of dragons for you are crunchy and good with ketchup."

What's a hike without a stick?

Baba made them work for their gifts.

I'm pretty sure that was an entire spool of curly ribbon.

This one's all net!

To ring in the new year we hosted a completely impromptu, last minute get together. Only 2 families showed up. (okay. maybe we only managed to call 3 families altogether...) but we had splendid time. My friend vetmomma brought me lemon curd and meyer lemons from her tree! When friends give you lemons, make lemon tarts.

Happy New Year Ya'll!
see you next week.

Was it really that long ago?

2009-11-21T12:15:00.005-06:00

This week has seen a temperature shift. It is chilly, overcast, rainy. And that means I'm baking and making soups. I wish my family loved soup as much as I do.

So it seems odd to look back at these pictures to a warmer time. With sunshine, shorts and sandals, sans socks.

The boys spent a morning preparing a tea party - denuding the yaupon holly bush of red berries, smashing them, mixing with water, straining and then serving.

I just liked this one. This boy has a sweeeeet tooth.

Ghoul & The Gang

Previous years we treated (because who tricks anymore?) with friends in a "planted" neighborhood. (i.e. we sugar-careful parents selected healthy treats to leave at the neighbors' houses for when we came to the door. granola bars, pretzels and nuts galore... It's really all about the process of costumes and friends, right? right? I haven't damaged my children irreparably?) This year it was full-on door to door chocolate. And as they lorded over all that they conquered, I was astonished at my candy repertoire; there were literally dozens of different types of packages of candy before me and I could identify with complete accuracy and clarity the contents of each; deftly singing "sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't. almond joys got nuts, mounds don't."

The boys have had the habit lately of picking up the camera to capture something to remember, so when I dump the camera bits onto the computer I am met with several shots of something unexpected, like this playdoh turtle. I wonder if she had a name.

And speaking of remembering things, In Nbear's class they set up an altar for Dia de los Muertos, the day to celebrate and remember those who have died. I decided we should have our own altar at home.

Contents:
Photo of Grandma Hubbell at the beach
Photo of Me & Bruno in San Diego
Photo of Betsy & Bailey
Photo of Grandpa Alden
A postcard from Salt Springs because it is near Quaker Lake where my Great Aunt Mabel and Uncle Gene lived in the summers
Lilies because Betsy liked them, in her crystal vase
A trivet from Grandma Hubbell
A paintbrush from Grandpa Alden's workbench
Bruno's purple leash
Lace doilies from somewhere in my family
A tin of guava paste, scavenged from Betsy's pantry
A cup from my great Aunt Ann and Uncle Dick for me when I was born
A small dish of pine nuts for Betsy because she really liked them (the squid ink that she was always searching for to make black pasta was respectfully in absentia, because I can't find it either...)
And marigolds, because that is traditionally part of the Day of the Dead altar and they are growing in my garden.

Rememberance Day

2009-11-11T09:02:00.003-06:00

"In Flanders Fields"

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1915)

"We Shall Keep The Faith"

Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.
And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.
— Moina Micheal, 1918

My weekend. What did you do?

2009-10-11T21:08:00.005-05:00

Yesterday was one of those busy days when every one of the 4 people in my household each had their own place to be at around the same time and only 2 of those people can drive. After careful orchestration on my part, I had it covered. Which means... cue the sick child.

But I got to go where I was supposed to go. yeah me!

Before this year, I had never done a fun run, a walk for anything or even a turkey trot. Yesterday marked my second event for a charity (the first being the danskin.) I walked a 5k for the National Association for Mental Illness (NAMI) on a team urging NAMI to recognize eating disorders as a mental illness, because currently they don't. (okay. so if they aren't a mental illness, what are they? hmm?) Anywho. If you would like to vicariously support me (or my beloved team captain) you can donate here. It's not too late to donate.

Hope ya'lls weekend was swell. A big shout out to my "quasi" high school SV reunion mates in my tiny town in New York. I say quasi because I moved away in 6th grade, which means I knew them before their hair got really big. Maybe I'll make it to the next one and we can recall slumber parties on shag carpets listening to the Bay City Rollers and Billy Joel.

In other news? It rained and I made soup.

Summer of '09 Roundup

2009-09-13T21:46:00.001-05:00

Since a few days of rain has transformed us into a spring/fall feeling (green grass out all of a sudden/cool temps and windows open) it is the perfect time to reflect on our summer, aka our "Minnesota winter" (we hole up inside because it is TOO HOT outside.) Who would have thought I'd be HAPPY to see 90 degrees?! Bring out the courderoy!

[Pour yourself a Pimm's Cup, this is a long one.]

Just as my momentous triathlon was complete, thus began my next adventure of having company! Yeah! My cousin D is one of my first cousins (I only have 2) amidst the array of significantly older second and third and once removed cousins that I am blessed with. Sadly, I have no good pictures of D to slide in here for good measure, but know that we swam in Barton Springs, ate bbq, went to our most famous state attraction.

Some were impressed with this:

notice the proud arm draped on the cold metal.

After we sent D back to his moderate-temperature locale, which is utterly lacking in BBQ, we got ready for the Cool House Tour. There was one project that Smith and I wanted to have done before the tour, but it just so happened to be the one thing that we could never agree on. We had been back and forth for the last year about the backsplash for our kitchen. I don't know how we ever agreed on this:

But we did.

Midway through the installation, I realized why the tile looked so familiar: it is the exact same pattern and color from the kitchen backsplash at my grandma's house. Ours is glass tile, while hers was ceramic.

And so we are cruising along to tour day and I think I have everything under control when Smith drops a comment while we are brushing our teeth:
"By the way, I think John Dromgoole will be here tomorrow morning around 8 or so to shoot a segment in our garden for some tour promotion."

spit.

gasp.

choke.

John?

yes.

Dromgoole?

yes.

tomorrow at our house?

yes. he liked the look of our raised beds.

For all of ya'll not from around here, John Dromgoole has what I fondly refer to as garden mecca. He is the go-to guy for organic gardening know-how, products, and all things growing. It's HIS dirt in my beds. It's HIS mulch all over my house. Most of the landscaping plants were from HIS store. And he was going to be at my house. And I hadn't weeded yet (today), because I've been dealing with this weed:

[From my "Texas Gardening The Natural Way," by Howard Garrett:
Nutgrass... There's only one guaranteed way to control nutgrass: Remove all the plants and nutlets by sifting the soil through wire mesh. Put this material in the driveway, soak with kerosene and burn to ash. Put the ash in a sealed concrete container, take it to the coast, ship 200 miles offshore, and dump in the ocean. No other techniques I know will work...]

It's as if Martha was at my house for dinner and I hadn't bothered to vacuum.
He was very nice. And he didn't know what else to do with the nutgrass either.

The tour itself was fine, if not exhausting. I think we had over 700 people in our house, and they were all very very nice. They were curious and asked lots of questions. It's like a pop quiz at times...
Why is there a window here?
How many eggs do you get from your chickens?
How does the solar affect your electric bills?
So how many square feet of bookshelves do you have?

I had to refer him to Smith for that, and he had an answer.

So with it being so unbearably outside, what did we do inside?
We tried to grow tadpoles into toads. Our creek had an abundance of tadpoles and the boys gathered them for rearing. Out of 10, only 1 was released into the wild.

we had fancy sandwiches

a tape project

playmobil! pirates! arrr! sushi?

- let's find some saltier salmon eggs!

- yeah, and crunchy seaweed to wrap around them!

- we have plenty of seaweed, now let's suck up those eggs!

- can you hear me captain?!

piano in pajamas

another instrument...

Smith worked.

made martianmallows

they were wonderfully fun to make! and beautiful! and tasted like. well. Nbear just had one. We built things with the rest before we tossed them.

Took apart a rotary dial telephone

Hey - we made it OUT of the house, all the way to Houston for my 20th high school reunion. which rocked. Here's me avoiding the camera for the "prom-style" photo.

And summer also sees a birthday or two.
Here's the cake of my 4 year old.

And the 40 year old. We even got to reuse the 4. The "0" we had to be a little more creative with.

the greatest show on earth! in glorious black. and white.

It was the boys first circus and they LOVED it. Also the first taste of cotton candy. They had seen it for sale in the grocery store (how wrong is that!) I told them it had to be eaten either a) at a circus b) outside at a fair.

And ah. the First Day of School.

and so far, they are still smiling.

Today I am Moved.

2009-09-08T10:48:00.001-05:00

These is pure beauty.

One of my favorite things

2009-09-02T21:06:00.000-05:00

To watch the end of day succumb to dusk....

Too much of a good thing.

2009-08-24T19:12:00.004-05:00

I think it will be a long long long time before Nbear tries this again:

a cinnamon spiked shot of peppermint extract.

whew. took his breath clear away. (but he sure smells nice.)

Swimsuits/Spa/Shower/Sling: my weekend in 4 words

2009-08-02T21:52:00.007-05:00

Through a strange twist of schedule, I found myself in the car, alone, heading to Houston for a total of 24 hours.

"Six hours alone in a car, with air conditioning and complete control over a CD player? That's like going to the spa!" comments my friend with a 3 year old and a newborn and envy in her eyes.

My dear friend Amy is about to have her own baby and it was time to shower her with gifts. So off I went to attend to the showering, compete with quiche! petit fours! and then some sort of cookie ball that's right up my alley with ground up nilla wafers and lime juice.

Before leaving town I needed to get N a new swimsuit (just one last errand!) The one from last year finally gave up the ghost when his leg popped through where it shouldn't. How hard should it be to find a swimsuit in Texas on the first day of August? Ha. she laughs.
Store #1: NO SUITS LEFT. only backpacks and long sleeve polo shirts.
Store #2: Only cheap cheap cheap movie spinoff grossness available.
Store #3. NOTHING. (but frantic looking back to school shoppers in abundance.)
Store #4: ONE suit left! his size! not heinous!

I'm off! Near about Brenheim, I've got the music blaring and I'm singing at the top of my lungs, nary a care, and my phone rings.

"Do we still have a copy of the kids' insurance cards at home?" says a voice that needs no caller id.

Sigh. This was exactly the type of call that you shouldn't take while driving.

So the kids were splashing on a waterslide at a friend's house and somehow Jbird got tangled up with some big kids going down. Thankfully, he landed on TOP of the heap, but it still B R O K E his collarbone. ouch!

He is mostly fine. Sore. Arm in a sling. It will take some time to heal.

At dinner tonight we noted that neither Smith nor I have ever broken a bone in our bodies (knock on internet wood) and yet BOTH of our children have each broken a bone already. I told them they must have the Uncle Tommy gene. And then I made them guess what part of my brother's body got hurt racing a bike. (you readers at home can play too.)

Bodily injury aside, it was a lovely trip. I was struck by the stillness of time. The quiet to complete my thoughts, (even if those thoughts were nothing greater than "Men In Black" or "Boston Legal.") It did me a world of good.

I had a BLAST in the past!

2009-07-29T21:34:00.004-05:00

I had myself a flashback '80s blast last night as I treated myself to a double feature at our local summer rerun theatre and saw

9 to 5 (1980)
and
Working Girl (1988)

I'm not even going to bother linking for those because you have all seen those movies right!

I joined gals in action Sinda & neighbor P (Sinda and her neighbors are bookworthy -- they live in the best hood) for an early round of Indian flavored goodness at the Clay Pit before being whisked back to the time where big hair reigned supreme. WOW! Was it fun. I've always had a soft spot for Dolly Parton, but it was Joan Cusack that I had forgotten in Working Girl. I even think her hair (REAL) was bigger than Dolly's wig, if you can even believe it. And such a young Alec Baldwin too.

Paired together, they show a perfect slice of '80s (cinematic) life. Both had female underdogs getting the best of their either dumb or conniving bosses. with lots of aquanet thrown in for good measure.

End of Year BLURRRR - The Kudos

2009-07-12T16:40:00.001-05:00

There are Kudos all around at our casa, and some have the trophies to prove it. (me? I have a medal, but no one will tolerate me wearing it. sigh.)

The end of the school year had a piano recital. I swear there was much more enthusiasm displayed during the recital. He was confidant and eager to play.

Then there was the culmination of an entire season of 'black tiger' growling. Not much of a growl here, but you can just imagine it at every game.

the action shot!

Our youngest got to jump around at places other than his bed and the sofa.

He is also an expert head stander, which he also practices on the sofa, yelling at me to "get off the ceiling mom!"

And then there was me. I did it! My goal was to finish the Danskin triathlon without dying. I admit, not a lofty goal, but mine nonetheless. Don't I look all fierce here?

I'm looking a lot less fierce at the here, just red-faced and sweaty, but hey! notice the not dying!

I started the whole event nervous, apprehensive and overwhelmed. There were TONS of people. Where is the buoy I'm supposed to swim out to? Am I standing with the right group to get started? Did my family make it here yet? Do I see anybody I know? Are my goggles gonna leak? Will these new shorts work for the swim and the bike? Look at how many cancer survivors are here today, how can I be fretting about goggles and shorts when others have made it through so much more?

I was alone in a swarm of people, all preparing to do something amazing. It was a little emotional.

And then I swam. It was a good swim. I don't think I ever got a good sightline of the buoy I was supposed to swim to, but I followed the herd enough to get there. It's hard to swim with so many people all around you, on top of you, under you, but I managed. In the pool, I can swim the half mile in 15 minutes easily. With the swarm I finished in 20. I emerged in great spirits to get ready to ride - still scanning the crowd for anyone who might be there to cheer me on -- and YES! there was Jesse! Can't even describe the boost I got just from seeing the glimpse of his face and hearing him cheer. It was awesome.

And then I had to pee. Which seemed to take forever and a day (and with a timing chip strapped to my ankle I know just how long forever and a day really was - 6 minutes.)

F i n a l l y on the bike I pass my family on the way to the event -- passed them too quickly to even see them, but I heard them. Hey! This is fun. I feel like I'm going really really fast! WHEEEE! (Thank you Uncle Tommy for loaning me your fast bike!) There were two tricky hills on the route and they slowed me down, but not as much as I feared. Then came the run. And this is where I took stock: the swim felt good and it was fun. The 12 mile bike felt good too and it was fun. But this 3 mile run? Not feeling fun. It was work. I do have to thank the heavens for answering my prayers with a decent bit of cloud cover and a breeze; it could have been A LOT hotter. I ran as much as I could and walked whenever I felt like it. People passed me whether I was walking or running. But I did it.

And this is my favorite shot of all, courtesy of my friend Anthony. I like it because it shows some of the happy faces I got to see at the finish. The friends who gave me hugs, words of encouragement, advice, a hand drawn sign urging me to "TRI HARD!" and a great big cheer at the end.

Thanks Ya'll. See you next year!

and E X H A L E

2009-07-01T14:48:00.005-05:00

[and for those who thought I was also busy enough to have been pregnant and delivered a 3rd child while no one else was looking, the babies below are my niece and nephew.]

June was a blur.

and soon I will post something about Thepianorecital Thegymkhana Thesoccer Thetriathlon Theoutoftownguests Thechickens Thetadpoles Thetour

until then, I am taking joy in the rain. and remember some things in May.

The Unexplainable.

2009-06-03T22:12:00.004-05:00

Or weird things we used to only share with our spouses but now we can burden.. errr... share with the rest of the internet...

I've had one.

She's had one.

Do you have one?

Ouch!

2009-05-23T10:34:00.001-05:00

I learned something today. You ever wonder what that little pocket is for, on the front of men's underwear?

Apparently at our house, it is for storing legos.

Well look at me!

2009-05-14T12:41:00.002-05:00

[I know. the link is now gone. I'll post a picture soon.]

Here!

Lately My Days Are:

2009-05-06T22:04:00.004-05:00

get up and exercise (swim 1 1/2 miles, run for 30ish minutes or bike 10 miles and sometimes two of these in a row)

jump in the car to take the kids to school

weed the overgrown sidelot of the milkweeds (this takes several hours and several days)

pick up youngest from school

make lunch and cave into his demands to draw a fire truck on his sandwich with food coloring and a toothpick (easier than tackling the tantrum, also? I have become quite good at this)

dishes

maybe laundry. maybe vacuum, maybe pay some bills. er is worse

pick up oldest child (here he is post piano recital)

work on the ad whose deadline looms

make dinner

nag the kids to bed

work on the ad a little more

tape the walls of our bedroom so I can eventually paint it

read one chapter of my book (a Lord Peter Whimsy mystery)

sleep

Hmmm

2009-05-03T11:13:00.001-05:00

What does it say about me that I have more movies lined up in my netflix queue than I have friends on facebook?

Books from People

2009-04-28T21:15:00.000-05:00

I love to read, but I don't often buy books (yet have untold hundreds on the shelves.) The library is a fabulous idea, but I get overwhelmed. I wish there was a netflix for books, because when I walk into a library or a bookstore the few books I was hoping to look for fly out of my head and I'm lured in by pretty covers. I walk out with nothing.

It is purely by the grace of my friends that I read anything worthwhile. I thank Sinda for introducing me to Laurie King and Jasper Fford, and by way of Lisa, Dorothy Sayers. Just recently I opened a box from far-flung Lisa with books (and a bird because apparently I am drawn to bird objects) inside.

Isn't she the swellest? I thought of her as I went to Recycled Reads today (the second store for the Austin Public Library.) I was scouting out some world book encyclopedias for $100. Apparently another parent at school beat me to it. But the store was LOVELY! SPACIOUS! and it's price point was right up my alley: $2 for hardback and $1 for paperbacks. I walked out with another Dorothy Sayers.

Nutter Butters!

2009-04-06T14:24:00.003-05:00

(no not those.)

These!

Apparently this recipe comes on the back of some graham cracker boxes. I never saw it. But a friend brought them camping and I've been turned. In truth, I have no recipe, just a vague listing of ingredients, which of course I immediately supplemented. (if you know anything about my cooking, "winging it" is more than a saying... I come from a family where a mistake (ie my family's "Polish Mistakes") of a recipe turns into a favorite dish)

so the main ingredients are: graham crackers (broken/processed/smashed to crumbs), peanut butter and honey
and I might add: dates (processed to a buttery paste), raisins, flax seeds, molasses, wheat germ, coconut, ground almonds

today inside each of these gems is one chocolate chip. why not?

Mix everything until it is likely to stick together when you roll it into a ball. no cooking. yer done. Snack at will. And don't say I never posted a recipe.

Now I guess I really HAVE to ask...

2009-04-03T17:41:00.002-05:00

Shortly after posting the loving review of Smith's providing me with morning coffee, he decides he's going to give it up (a little.) As in: stop making any coffee on weekday mornings.

sigh.

and yes. I'm perfectly capable of making my own, even have a machine to make it for me and have it ready and hot at the appointed time. but I won't.

so bear with me while I make my way through coffee-free, fennel-toothed days.

the fennel toothpaste has proved to be one of my weirdest impulse buys. What are some of yours?

If I were twittering, I'd twitter this

2009-03-31T08:57:00.003-05:00

My recent switch to Tom's fennel flavored toothpaste has left me with a hankerin' for Indian food.

Spring (Almost) Broke

2009-03-28T11:31:00.006-05:00

I should note that 4 people slept in this tent. And two of them were fully grown.

Since the topsy turvey-ness of our spring break, I'm pleased that we had a fun and productive week.

Raised vegetable bins were created (they'll be a post of their own soon enough,) a chicken coop is closer to being realized and we went camping!

Camping was at lovely Bastrop State Park. And it IS lovely for a Texas park. [Here's where my NY snobbishness shines through...] There are tall pine trees which make a lovely coolness beneath. It is almost like we are not camping in Texas. The weather was a "bottler" (so nice you wanna bottle it up and save it for a rainy day) with clear skies, warm days and a gentle breeze. The trees were starting to bud. The birds were out. Ahhh! And another family we know ended up in the same campground so the kids had instant friends to harass when the crows first cawed in the morning.

Sometimes camping has its downsides. And I just couldn't let go of one: the proximity of the campground to the HIGHWAY. The drive into the park may meander through some lovely greenery (again, have we left Texas?) but closer inspection of the map showed that our campsite is probably as close to the highway as an off-ramp McDonald's. Sure, there are trees (tall ones! lovely pines!) completely blocking the view, lights and smell of the freeway, but they weren't enough to buffer the noise. And when you are out in nature trying to get away from it all, you don't want to wonder, was that just one motorcycle? because it really sounded like three. Our friends had the added bonus of being the campsite directly underneath the streetlight (um, since when do campgrounds need streetlights?) Shortly after flashlights out (sadly no campfires to linger over during the burn ban) they had to move their tent because of the light. Thankfully they found a shadow from one of those tall pines to fall just so across their faces so they could sleep.

We had wonderful hikes and the kids were troopers and there was much swinging in our friend's hammock. One day however, Jbird and his compatriot went on a little hike with the moms while the bigger kids went on a more meaty hike with the dads. We studied the interpretive trail and wondered exactly what each little post would say if only we had the corresponding interpretive map. One stop included a picture of a covered wagon next to what might have been a well? an oven? an early urinal? It was a circular stone wall about 2ish feet high; one side had worn away and you could see down another foot or so into a depression in the ground. Rocks abounded. The boys, being ever adventurous, scaled the wall and were walking around the edge as we got closer to ponder what this structure could be. Then with a flash, J's friend took an accidental nosedive off the wall to the bottom. And yes, he had hit the rock at the bottom. [insert here myriad fears and panics about deabilitating neck-injuries, concussions, location of the nearest hospital, location of the nearest band-aid, etc.] As he is collected from the bottom and we are assessing the extent of the injuries amidst our shock, I look up to see that Jbird is now down the well with a thud.

By some fluke of aerodynamics, he has missed the large rock at the bottom with his face, but is holding his arm.

It was a long night of wondering if it was truly broken; there were no visible signs of breakage, but he was certainly not using it and he complained of pain. He was acting just like Nbear when he fractured his arm (after a much much much smaller scale fall.) It seemed in the realm of possibility that it was broken, or at the very least fractured. The doctor the next day deemed it less likely. If it wasn't better by X day we had the go ahead for x-rays. Thankfully by that day he was almost 100%, only milking the "my arm hurts" when he really really didn't want to buckle his carseat by himself. His friend is also doing well with only a bruise (albeit a nasty one) to show for it. WHEW! Add "emergency wine" to our camping pack list.

Animal Analagies all Around or Watch out nature, here we (don't) come!

2009-03-18T11:12:00.005-05:00

photos from our last trip

Well. It is Spring Break and in a feverish moment a few weeks ago we booked a campsite at an old favorite: Lost Maples. We haven't been back since we lived in Austin the last time (the first time?) What a perfect time to go with the kids! They are old enough now to make camping a more manageable (ie, out of diapers AND potty trained.) And with Spring Break we have more time! It's so pretty there! Everyone I talked to that likes to camp had fond memories of camping there.*

But all they had left were primitive sites (ie, park the car and haul your gear down a trail to a very remote campsite. Out in nature!) Sure! Fine! Smith and I primitive camped there last time! It'll be great. A friend loaned us an extra camping backpack. We'll haul the stuff and the kids will just have to make the maybe mile? maybe 2 mile hike in. We can do this!

And then the days crept by and we made our menu and went shopping and gathered the gear into piles for each backpack.

It wasn't until last night that Smith and I finally came to the realization that we are CRAZY to haul 4 people's worth of stuff and food and WATER for 3 days to a campsite 2 miles from our car. AFTER driving 4 hours to get there. It was sounding like less and less fun. More like taking a cat camping.*

So we chickened out.

Today in lieu of driving those 4 hours, we are building a vegetable garden. Maybe we'll pitch a tent out back next to it tonight. And later this weekend? We found a place to squeeze our tent in between some RVs at Bastrop. Maybe we'll hear some nature over the white noise of generators... Our desire to camp will not be denied! But it will be modified.

* One friend shared her less-than-fond story of deciding to bring the family cat camping... you can fill in the rest of the story yourselves.

Is it still a kindness if you ask for it?

2009-03-15T12:37:00.004-05:00

In one of the classrooms at the kid's school, they might do a "kindness" to the classroom; do something on behalf of all the other people in the class.

In our house, Smith usually makes coffee. I love it when he wakes up early and I can cruise into the kitchen and merely pour. I'm not a coffee junkie, but some days I just like the warmth of it. The smell of it. And given the amount that is often left in my cup, maybe it is still just the aroma that moves me.

After a delightful morning of yoga, I returned home and the coffee was all gone. Not a drop. I went on to make up my own breakfast, glancing at the coffee maker. And then I asked if he would make me some, even though I could tell he was DONE with breakfast and coffee and had moved on to the rest of his day.

"What kind?"
I shrugged and said it didn't really matter. And because I'm slow I only now realize that it didn't matter what kind of coffee. It was really about the act of his making coffee for me. I feel like he is taking care of me, even if he really didn't want to, and I think I needed that extra comfort this morning. So thank you beloved Smith for making it when I asked, but I think it is still a kindness. after all, you could have refused.

(and by pure coincidence, as I type this refrain from a HOLE song is playing in my ears)
Was she askin' for it?
Was she askin' nice?
Yes she was askin' for it!
Did she ask you twice?

My front porch...

2009-03-12T13:39:00.002-05:00

Check out my house ya'll, it's the one with the marching band at the end!

The singer's (Frank Myer) son, was one of the wonderful carpenters who worked on the remodel at our old house.

Between a Rock and a Hard-Headed Person (maybe I should change the name of this blog to that...)

2009-03-06T10:36:00.004-06:00

Apparently yesterday was my day to be the dissatisfied customer. I didn't mean to be. I finally got around to some phone calls that I had set aside for lack of time in a quiet environment. So at last! I could get around to canceling that credit card that I hadn't used in 3 years, but was somehow still open.

After the obligatory labyrinth that is the phone tree, I got to a person. She spoke very slowly. Very clearly. This would only come to irritate me later.

Me: "I would like to close my account."

Her: "I see that you have been a member with us since 1992. And your balance is $0. You have not had an active balance since 2002."

Me: "Yes. And I would like to close my account."

Her: "Were you aware that we currently offer an 0% interest rate for balance transfers. Can we transfer a balance for you at this time to help you out?"

Me: "No thank you. I would like to close my account."

Her: "We can also extend an APR of 13%. Would you like to..."

Me: "No thank you. I would like to close my account. please."

Her: "Can I ask why you are interested in closing your account at this time? Have you been dissatisfied with our service?"

Me: "No. I wishing to streamline my finances and close out this account which I am no longer using."

Her: "You have been a member in good standing since 1992, do you realize that closing this account may negatively impact your credit score?

Me: (gee. that sounds like a threat.) and now my voice is getting desperate, pleading: "I would like to close my account."

And it gets uglier from there. At some point Smith came out and hovers over me and says "Let me talk to her, I'll tell her how to close that account." And yes, I did ask for a manager. But no, that didn't help. But now. finally I can exhale and know that the stupid account is closed. Can't say that I will miss Discover's customer service after that charade!

And then.

I made a call to my pharmacy (which I love) because I am confused about pricing for some recent medications. My oldest got an antibiotic filled on Friday. It was a a 200 mg - 4 day dose. With insurance it cost me $27 and some change. The very next day, my youngest (and smaller one) had the same drug filled. It was a 100 mg - 4 day dose and it cost me $47 and some change. Hmmm. 200 mg is $27. 100 mg is $47. Half the amount of meds for twice as much? Maybe something went wrong with the keying in.

Sadly no. I was told that each price was determined by my health insurance company and they could not explain the discrepancy. [explain to me how my health insurance company sets the price for a medicine? do they really have that much bloody power?! well. yes. they do.] So you know that meant a lovely call to my health insurance company. Who doesn't love that? I was meant with the same response. She had no idea why the smaller amount of medicine would cost twice as much. She said that the pricing is determined by the manufacturer. So a cranky letter to the manufacturer is forthcoming! I can't wait to see who they blame. Stay tuned.

And Today The View from the Boy's Bedroom Window

2009-03-03T20:36:00.003-06:00

Thank you Martha, as always, for your inspiration.

tell not what, empower how

2009-03-01T12:38:00.006-06:00

I went to church today. A first in a long time. Maybe it was San Diego that I last went? (And that church was a treat in La Jolla, California. I don't know how quakers got that real estate, but let me tell you, THAT was a lovely place to sit and wait upon God.)

I went today because I am really trying to listen better. I am easily distracted, unfocused, pushing to the next thing I need to do or say. Even this morning, with 5 minutes left before I needed to leave, I dove into cookbooks in the pantry looking for a dinner recipe, rather than spending the last moments with the people in my family. So I felt it was time to step back and go hard core, go to my unprogrammed church to sit in silence for an hour and wait. See what there was to hear. (ha ha, my little quaker joke.)

[here's where you, yourself, would sit in silence for say, an hour or so...I'll wait.]

Than towards the end of that very quiet hour where tiny sounds and smells are magnified and time can be measured by a shift in the shadows, a man spoke about listening. (which was a little different, usually the phrase about this type of worship is about "waiting.") But he talked about listening to God and listening to people and listening to God through people. (Which is exactly why I was there! cue the angels!) And one phrase is ringing through my head from his spiel: Tell not what to do, but empower how to do. It resonates so well because that is exactly what I try to do as a parent. And what the kid's school strives to do in the teaching of them. I had never thought of that as a means to listen better to friends (the people in my life, not necessarily the religious group.)

So here I go.

(I will save my complaints about the weather (90 to 35 in a day!!) for another day, because that is totally lacking in the empowering department.)

Little Duckies

2009-02-25T09:57:00.000-06:00

There's nothing like a child's puzzle to challenge the flu-addled brain.

Out of nowhere

2009-02-14T12:24:00.001-06:00

J pipes up and says "Plants really like to listen to music!"

N responds and says "they bloom to jazz."

What do you bloom to?

I'm Cranky too.

2009-02-05T11:07:00.003-06:00

I was tired of looking at my toe jam post. Weren't ya'll? So I'm stealing Sinda's theme.

I'm tired of waking up tired. I'm tired of being woken up in the night, by children, by the phone ringing, by the dumpster out back, by the lights out back, by Smith breathing too loud, of just not getting more than 3 hours of continuous sleep in the night. I'm also tired of talking about how tired I am.

I'm tired of blowing my nose. I'm tired of other people blowing their nose.

I'm tired of reading about horrible crimes against children in the newspaper. And mortified to find some of them closer to home.

I'm tired of trying to organize a spanish class for my child. It should not be this hard.

I'm tired of me procrastinating about looking for a job. (and here I am. posting instead of looking. again.)

I'm tired of the static on my phone. I'm tired of our heater not working properly and having to be reset every day. sometimes twice. or three times.

I do think of myself as a very positive person, always trying to seek the good side of something. But it does feel good to just plain old complain. But to leave me in a somewhat brighter mood, here's the flip side:

I am thankful that Smith takes care of the heater and doesn't complain about it. He just does it. And calls the people to come and fix it. again.

I'm so glad I can see sunshine out my window. Now, a cat is peering around, sniffing the warm are before scooting off to chase something.

I'm glad there are still chocolate chip gingersnap cookies left in the cookie jar. And eternally grateful to Lisa for introducing me to those cookies.

I'm glad that the people who are directly in my children's lives are so warm, caring, thoughtful and intelligent. We are part of a very nice, loving family. They belong to a wonderful school and are part of a wonderful community there.

I'm glad to know all of you, even if you just lurk and don't leave a comment. That's okay.

What are you tired of?

Toe Jammin'

2009-02-01T19:48:00.001-06:00

"um. jazz?"

"yes."

"what are you.... harvesting from your in between your toes?"

pause. pause. pause.

"It's sweeeeet."

More Fun than Facebook

2009-01-28T11:41:00.003-06:00

and somehow more satisfying. does that make me antisocial?

Give it a try. just start clicking. and yes, mine took me forever to make.

Why

2009-01-25T08:26:00.003-06:00

It has been an exciting week. There is something about a grand bit of ceremony that makes one feel proud and excited and yes, hopeful. I am usually wary of all that pomp and pageantry, but for some reason this year I was fully relishing it; even down to the little presidential seal flags on the trumpets.

I was explaining to the boys the events of the day on Tuesday - because I'm sure in their minds Obama has been the president forever by now. I was also explaining why so many people seemed excited about this new president.

"Not many people liked our previous president Bush." I started.

"Did you vote for president Bush?" Nbear asks.

"No, I didn't. I respect him because he is our president, but I don't really like him as a president."

"Why?" he responds.

and here I take a long breath. Where does one start here? And what can be digested appropriately by a newly minted 6 year old? I started some discussion about his environmental policy. That seemed to satisfy him, but it left me wondering a bit more. What exactly/specifically/precisely was it that bothered me the most about Bush?

One answer came to me on DAY TWO. President Obama reinstates our nations compliance with the Geneva Convention rules about torture. Our previous administration seemed to take the low road on this count. I can understand the anger and fear that followed September 11th, I really can. But that fear and that anger and that desire for revenge should not have seeped in to our dealings with other human beings. Terrorists? yes. But still human beings. I'm not saying we have to coddle them by any means, but there is a level of human decency that I had always hoped we as a race had evolved to. The policy of allowing torture just made me feel sad for all of us - it proved that we were no better than "them." And we should know better. But I am an idealist, I know. But it's a little like the parenting advice that comes from school - strive for perfection, know that you will not always get there and be perfection, but at least have in your sights what you are striving for.

**********************
And now a birthday interlude! Complete with cocktails!

***********************

In other notes, my hair passes muster with my mother. It was my intention to go to Houston last weekend and get the official "sniff-test." As a teenager in my house I could come down the stairs in the morning and my mom could take one sniff and ask "have you already worn that shirt? It's a bit stinky." Yes, I know as teenagers we are often stinky, but my mom's nose has always been very sharp. So I wanted to see if my shampoo-free hair was starting to reek. Because who else can honestly tell me? Smith, gawd love him, is cursed with a non-smelling nose, so he is no help. And most friends aren't going to pop up and say "gee, your hair smells less than terrific!" Close friends may count but, Sinda is on the same experimental hair ride so she's biased and Lisa (whose nose may rival my mothers) is far away in Colorado. (When WILL we get the smell-a-phone!?!)

"So what's up with you and not using shampoo?" my mom asks.

"Well, I'm using baking soda now, instead of shampoo."

"But WHY?" she wants to know.

and honestly, I have no good answer for it right off other than, "Why not?!" No better than my answers when I was a teenager. I suppose to most people my hair looks exactly the same. To me, it feels different. It feels better, but I can't say that based on anything. Perhaps I'm still in the throes of "my hair has so much more volume and shine since I started this new shampoo!" sort of honeymoon. But I like it. We'll see how long it lasts.

Lenny asks, "what's that smell?"

Separated At Birth?

2009-01-15T09:14:00.002-06:00

watch carefully.

David Lee Roth (minus the chest)

and

Jessica Simpson

My Year So far....

2009-01-14T09:43:00.006-06:00

I've given up using shampoo, going full-tilt dirty hippie.

(Sinda may have a pit-stick making party soon too. We're in this stink together. It's just a matter of time before Lisa succumbs. peer pressure baby!)

AND

I've bought myself a $50 toothbrush.

Because apparently I didn't get the memo. Everyone I encounter lately is using one.

***************************

We also had a nice holiday with lots of snow at the mountains of Nana & Papa. Smith and Nbear worked diligently on a very elaborate, multi-leveled, tunneled, throned, snow fort. It even had a roof in places. I hear snowballs were tossed. We did get to ski a little bit, and not just down the driveway...

We hacked down our own tree and hauled it back down the hill (yeah. that looks like a hill...) on a sled. It was a perfect tree.

We watched the snowplow clear the driveway. Often.

Gingerbread houses were made (and picked at by little fingers.)

We were invaded by Christmas-themed bug boys.

Happy New Year Ya'll!

.

To steal the phrase from Lisa, Sofa King cold...

2008-12-15T20:56:00.004-06:00

Just yesterday, this was the scene at my house:

Painting, ahem, al fresco.

Today though, it is long shirts, long pants, socks, hats, scarves, mittens, wraps and still a bit nippy. Brr. I don't mind the cold. What I mind is 70 degrees one day (and I considered mowing the lawn) and then 35 degrees the next day.

A little from Column A, A little from Column B

2008-12-03T19:49:00.008-06:00

A+) Nbear lost his two front teeth and just in time for Christmas! My, how many times have we heard that song? Not nearly enough! How often does that work out -- both front teeth AND Christmas?! It's like Jupiter & Venus aligning! (didn't ya'll see that?)

A-) When Nbear lost the first front tooth - it left the root bud behind. Firstly, I didn't realize just how absolutely positively squeamish I am about a loose tooth. I could barely look at him with it just dangling there. Then he lost the tooth, but the root was not quite ready so it left a "bloody stump" behind. Oh yeah. There were no night-time kisses for awhile. until it... just dissolved...

B+) Lisa came to visit for the grand spanking opening of Mr. Craig's latest adventure in well-tailored white pants! And I got to shake things up with Sinda and smack some things down with Dawn. No picture could capture the WHOMP! of that rolling pin crushing ice for drinks. It still scares me.

B-) I missed getting to go see the new Bond movie with Lisa (and the 18 other people who almost got kicked out the movie theatre because of those lovely white pants) as I was Blogging From Bed with the flu. Both Smith & I were kaput. The children however were fine. We woke up blearly and neither could summon the effort that it would take to get the children off to school and out of our hair. So they stayed home. Here's what I vaguely remember thinking that day:

- it's really really windy

- there sure are a lot of naked people selling stuff in dwell. it's a shelter magazine, does sex really sell everything?

- how much wind would it take to blow something off of the house

- spaced (the british TV series) is the best thing to watch while ill with the flu

- metal roofs are noisy

- i wish we could actually watch spaced but the children are around

- sesame sticks do not smell good on someone else's breath. ever.

thankfully the children, those self-sufficient marvels that they are, kept to themselves (for the most part, there was that run in with the sesame stick breath). They fed themselves and took every single multiple-pieced toy apart and played the heck out of it. missing (oh thank the heavens) was the flooding, the shampoo abuse, the toilet paper wasting and the rock writing on the car events of the last two months. There was one moment of silence though, it must have been 2 minutes long but Smith and I simultaneously popped our heads up listen. ??? and then back to playing it was. and to sleep. ah.

C+) Jbird wore this bucket on his head for an entire day. It fit him perfectly. I have no idea where it came from. On the other side, it read "Sol." N decided that J's face needed some extra flare with markers to finish the look. Who else looks this good with a bucket on their head?

C-) There is no minus to looking this cute with a bucket on your head.

D+) I got to see the babies! My beloved nieces and nephew are sofa king adorable. 7 lbers now too! How awesome is that?!

D-) I didn't actually get to touch the babies. I was over the flu, but was coming down with a cold. Drat! Uncle Tommy & Aunt Lynne were the best though - they loaded up and brought those little buggers over so we could at least peer at them through the back of the sneeze-guard back window. Did you know that 3 baby car seats can fit into the back of an extended cab Chevy pickup? Now you know. Jbird & Nbear got hoisted up into the bed of the truck to peer through at the sleeping wonders. J looks up with big eyes and proclaims: "WHOA! That's a lot of BABIES!" tail on the donkey that one.

E+) We sold our old house! Yeah! One less mortgage to pay. One less electric bill. One less everything! And new neighbors!

E-) They finally finished building the warehouse that backs up behind our fence at the new house. The parking lot lights are... how shall we say... flood-lighty?

F+) Thanksgiving!! One more year that I wasn't responsible for the bird. My dad, of course, as usual, was on the mark with the bird. I tried to help with the side dishes and the pie, but my mom is the master. I think I just got in the way. The best part of the Thanksgiving meal for me actually comes the next morning. I have pie for breakfast. And nobody tries to stop me!

My mom also sets a mean table.

I think my family is a tiny bit japanese.

F-) My dad gets jipped because his birthday is on Thanksgiving. So he bakes the bird and then has to blow out the candles (oh, and we didn't even have those) on the pumpkin pie. Sorry dad.

G+) I found Tina!
G-) I found her on Facebook.

Coming Down and Looking Back

2008-11-06T11:41:00.005-06:00

It has been a whirlwind week, hasn't it? I try not to post politically, but I cannot help but be moved by the historic events of last week. It is something tremendous to realize. I am proud proud proud of our country. I will watch closely as our next president, who overcame a huge obstacle in just being elected, handles the many difficulties facing our nation's future.

An old high school friend has also been moved:

If you want one of your own (only a few of Obama left!), go see his storefront. (some proceeds will go to Habitat for Humanity too.)

And on a much lighter note, we have finished watching a TV series. It is sad opening up the red Netflix envelope knowing it is the last show; the show was like an old friend. An interesting counterpoint to our current state, Carnivale, took place during the dust bowl and the depression. Next up in the queue: Mad Men (with a small Spaced interlude), another delightful period piece. What is is about looking back? My facebook is awash with high school reconnections...

oh! look! a floating boy!

Boo Ya'll!

2008-11-04T21:23:00.008-06:00

A little election diversion, posted while the rest of the world is literally glued to media outlets waiting for the news.

Trick or Treatin'
We had a full on police force for the night out, where we went door to door in a friend's grandparent's neighborhood where us anti-candy moms have planted Halloween "goodies" like granola bars! dried fruit! graham crackers! (when Nbear is old enough to read this, I'm SO busted!)

The full lineup. While Jbird seemed to have developed an oral fixation on those cuff-a-links, Nbear seems to be totally enamored with the snow white princess. aw.

and speaking of love, Smith and I also celebrated a stealth anniversary night out. He had free tickets to a book reading (lots of folks in town for the Texas Book Fair.) I didn't feel like forking over the big bucks for a sitter and offered that he should go with Sinda, because she would totally enjoy it and it would be a small token of thanks for the myriad cool things that Sinda does for us. Like this: She opted not to go because "um, isn't that ya'lls anniversary? and can I watch the kids for you while you guys go out?" see? isn't she the coolest ever? Without her, our anniversary may have come and gone unnoticed for our own self-absorption. So she did watch the kids and we saw (and heard) Peter Sagal and Scott Simon read from their latest books. AND! My bonus of the evening is we had a small, teeny tiny, brush with fame. Smith and I popped out for dessert post-reading and the waiter informed me that the person who had been sitting in my exact chair mere moments before we arrived was none other than Claire Danes.

I'm An Aunt! An Aunt! An Aunt!

2008-10-28T20:39:00.004-05:00

Today there are 3 more beautiful babies in the world and they are directly related to me! I can't believe it either. I am the proud aunt of 2 nieces and one nephew. Uncle Tommy & Auntie Lynne are doing just fine. I'll post pictures as soon as I get my hands on some. And hopefully I'll be hugging those 3 peas in a pod very soon!

****note: must finish knitting hats!****

Deep Throat: The Conclusion of The Neck Files

2008-10-21T20:15:00.006-05:00

You may remember my throat/neck thing? Bring yourselves up to date here.

Long story short, I'm a huge gray area. On one side are healthy people. On the other side are sick people. Then there's this huge gray area in between where seemingly healthy people have a sick person's symptoms; yet are not really "sick." (nor "healthy" if you are a glass half empty sort of girl.)

Here's what my doctor, "Mr. Nosey" (that long scary scope) and I have been up to this last month: Steroid treatment? no changes. Antibiotics? no changes. Allergies? no symptoms. Acid Reflux medication? no changes. A CT scan with a iodine contrast? no tumors (but several bruises from the attempted blood lettings and a mini IV.) A pre-visit to the hospital that took 3 blood techs to get a blood sample? (The first checked my right arm, then my left arm, then my right hand, then my left, then said "I'll be right back with John." Then she distracted me by asking about my pets while John poked around for his attempt. Then John disappears to get the next guy. The next guy taps a vein in my forearm, remarks "Wow, look how slow it's coming out" and "This one's gonna bruise.") A biopsy that required full anesthesia and six hours in the hospital with an IV attached by tape strong enough to bond the tiles to the space shuttle for takeoff? Thankfully not one sign of lymphoma.

Yes. A huge exhale of relief. I am blessed. I am lucky. I am... well. My body is just weird I guess.

Today at my follow-up visit with my doctor we talked at length about the gray area I'm in; thankfully Mr Nosey stayed in the drawer. He was also really surprised that I didn't end up taking the painkillers he prescribed for the the biopsy. I didn't even glance at the tylenol; honestly, I've had more painful throats with a cold. He remarked "I don't know what it is about women!"

*****And Now for Something Completely Different********

If I am a freak of nature with abnormally large lingual tonsils, don't we all wish I could whistle like this?

Handcuffs for a Heffalump? Check!

2008-10-13T12:21:00.002-05:00

We are gearing up for the next big holiday event in these parts and N has been reading a bit more lately - enough to have figured out that the huge sign up at Goodwill reads: HALLOWEEN HEADQUARTERS.

So off we went to the headquarters of the holiday to dive through the offerings. N really wanted to be a policeman. (methinks it is purely for the water gun opportunity.) Jbird carried around costume elements of the following: Thomas the train, a baseball player and a giraffe before agonizing over the final choice of? a policeman. just like his brother. By the grace of all that is holy, neither costume came with a gun. BUT! They did come with handcuffs and that was MUCH more exciting to them. (And, yes, I'm much more comfortable with my children toying around with bondage than with guns.)

So Sunday afternoon was spent figuring out things to clip together with the "cufflinks" or as in Jbird's case, he calls them "cuff-a-links" with each syllable fully enunciated. Cuffalinks? Aren't those handcuffs for a heffalump?

Yes, I'm still here and I havne't forgotten how to type. (spell yes, but type no.)

2008-10-10T21:41:00.007-05:00

I've been busy. Not as busy as some, but busy trying to get things done, to exercise every single day, to try new things and to actually attend a bookclub meeting for which I've actually done the reading. check, check, check and check.

I've also had a small lesson about head wounds and rock throwing. They always say that head wounds bleed a lot, but you just don't realize HOW MUCH until it is your child covered in it. Thankfully, we are all fine now.

and I have another thing preoccupying my mind at the moment. Hopefully it will turn out to be a blog-worthy laugh-riot you have all been waiting to read about. In the meantime, I'm just crossing my fingers.

Oh! And I had more crazy leftovers the other night, well, most of it was new - but leftover fish! Tossed in with sauteed kale, white beans and leftover cooked salmon. I don't know how it works, it just does. yum.

See? things are pretty dull around here. Now go back to your political blogs and hearing doom and gloom economy stories.

Crazy Leftover Chicken

2008-09-26T22:32:00.002-05:00

Some nights the meal planning totally falls through. It looks good on the calendar, and then somehow the day that I've planned to make something that requires abnormal ingredients AND a significant time to prepare, is the same day that dear cooking spouse has a late meeting and it's the day I take the kids to (fill in the blank...)

Last Thursday was set to be Japanese night! Smith is all gung-ho-y about cooking more Japanese dishes so I agreed. And put it on the calendar. And so it was this day at 5:30 that we call each other to spout out "I'm only now on my way home, have you started dinner?"

So no. We didn't have the transcendent Japanese dishes we hoped to. Instead. I opened the fridge and sighed. And here is what I made:

Crazy Leftovers Chicken Dish with Rice
1/2 onion cooked up with some butter
1 bottle of beer (leftover from a party)
1/2 cup tomato soup (leftover from some trip to Central Market)
3 cups vegetable soup (leftover from last night which was made with, you guessed it, leftovers.)
Rosemary.

Get all that bubbling and boiling hot. Toss in the chicken thighs that were supposed to go in the Japanese dish and then cover. Roll the chicken over periodically. Bubble and boil until all that liquid is reduced/thickish and the chicken is done. Enjoy with rice.

I can't even tell you how fabulous this was. And sad, because it felt like a dish that I would never be able to re-create as fabulously again. Because, ya'll should know that my measurements above are rough. loosey-goosey. seat of my pants-ish. a bit like the quiche I made earlier this week: the pre-baking crust mishap that had one half of the crust in a sad dusty pile on the floor and the other half securely baked to the pan... I made the quiche anyway, figuring the kids would go for the non-crusted side since it made it more like scrambled eggs and less like the egg pie that it was. It too was good, but proof that my cooking is not for the recipe following purist. That's my dad in me.

My mother's garden

2008-09-18T11:20:00.002-05:00

Today my parents (and their beloved pets) drove off to return to Houston. It is very quiet now. They took refuge from Ike up here as their town near Galveston usually floods at the drop of a rainfall-filled hat. They came worried about all that was left behind - including my brother and sister-in-law who opted to stay it out. But Bailey the dog (geez. now I have to vacuum - that dog is a virtual hoover with crumbs!), Hidey the cat (who fulfilled her name and hid in the garage), and the brand new unnamed canary (Piper? Curly? Moe? what a singer! what a weird hairdo!) added to our family menagerie.

It was a relief to have them here. At the very least - they were here! THEY were safe. It was hard to watch the storm unfurl at TV's length and not wonder and worry.

With great sighs of relief, news from friends and my brother came in - my parent's house was intact, our friends were okay. The hated hackberry tree in the back took down the fence, blocked the road and was also in the pool. These were expected. But there is a lot of work to do cleaning up and clearing out. It will still be pretty sad. My mother's garden is a place of quiet delight. Little clumps of flowers, even some "wildings" (you and I know them as weeds) are enjoyed. She works so hard at it, loving it. It is different every time I come to visit. Will it ever look like this again?

Houston, We have liftoff!

2008-08-28T09:39:00.003-05:00

My friend Lisa has described the feeling of leaving the house, leaving the children, being off on one's own as being like a helium balloon - once let go, one drifts up and away feeling lighter and lighter.

Today as I bid both boys adieu at the gates of school, the feeling was more like a rocket had launched from my chest. and e x h a l e . I had been looking forward to this very moment often (remember this gentle reader?)

I now have some time and space alone for myself. Before now I could probably count the number of times I've been in my house alone on one hand (and Smith clicking and gabbing away in the home office is going to be ignored right now for sake of argument.) It feels good.

I ran into another person who was having the same feelings, but she was feeling guilty too. Somehow I am not. It can be painful to watch them grow up and away from me, but I am happy for my kids - they are going off on the next adventure of their lives (albeit with much less ME in it.) It is good for them. And I am happy for me, for I too am going about the next adventure in my life!

What I did this summer

2008-08-26T22:16:00.002-05:00

We are nearing the end of summer and I have to admit with giddy glee that I'm glad that school is soon. GLAD! I'm not counting days or anything, but okay. I am. Jbird starts school too this year and he is SOO ready for it. It is also a wise person who chose the boys to be in different classrooms, if this summer is any indication as to how they get along in the same room. Since we moved to the new house at the start of summer, I allowed some time for settling in, transitions, etc., before the throes of summer camp and running here and playdates there and vacation absorbed all that free time. Well. Note to self: these kids do not need a lick of settling in time. In June I looked longingly at the camps and swim lessons that were earmarked for July and August. And the swim lessons? Totally fell through - all 4 of them. SO. Yeah. School's starting soon.

~~~~~~

The bright spot of our summer ended up being a bit of a surprise. And I feel guilty admitting that it IS the bright spot --- because it was my grandfather's funeral. My amazing grandpa passed away in July at the age of 94. He lived a full life, more able-bodied and able-minded than any person I know. At his memorial service, my aunt reminded me that it was only a year and a half ago that Grandpa was up on the roof, trying to figure out that funny noise (my aunt quips that he probably heard the ghost of my grandma telling him to get off the roof...) To be honest, he was perfectly comfortable up on the roof. He was a telephone pioneer - installing the very first telephone poles and telephone service throughout New York state. I also remembered he they had the first "mobile" phone; sometimes on the way somewhere, Grandpa would get out of the car, climb a pole and "dial in" to phone ahead to let whoever know they were coming.

So we went to my hometown, to say goodbye. And there was room for us to stay out at the lake. This is the lake that I spent many sunny Sunday mornings; the topic of my stories to the boys after lights out and they beg me to tell them stories about when I was little. So it was very cool for them to actually be there. We shared the lake house with a whole gaggle of my relos - from all over. So at any given moment there was at least 3 adults to amuse the children - who needed no amusing since they had a LAKE to conquer from their beloved pirate float - complete with an entire artillary of water weaponry. (shh. don't tell our montessori friends!)

Our day:
Smith would arise at the crack of dawn to kayak around the lake and take pictures like this:

He'd come back and make coffee and eventually the rest of us would drag ourselves from bed and somebody would make breakfast. And here is where I should mention that one of our hosts is a chef. so. yeah. yum! and the eggs? bought from the farm down the street... the carton full of feathers fresh.

And then we would swim for awhile. And then sail for awhile. Or gather wild blueberries for awhile. And then take the boat out and swim in the middle of the lake. And then we would scrounge for lunch from the fabulous leftovers from the night before and swim some more. and play games. fabulous games! because the other host? my cousin? used to have a game shop. And sells boats! so boats out the ying yang. Then we'd make cocktail drinks for "elegant hour" and sip and nibble as we made the rounds of the lake as slowly as possible. Then dinner and up till way late playing games and telling stories by candlelight outside.

We also made a family outing to a place called Salt Springs. I remembered it as being a wonderfully cool place when I was little so I wanted to see if it lived up to grown up splendor. Yup. My first discovery was some jewelweed/silverweed/popweed/touch-me-not. There was no consensus on what we actually called it. I guess I called it popweed because when you touch the tiny pods of these plants, they explode. Nature's bubblewrap. So I found a patch of them and let the kids loose. Next we walked up to the creek and began our hike through the creek and up the 3 waterfalls. My memories are full of the happy feelings of splashing and climbing through waterfalls, they did not disappoint. Everything was so green and lush and I sent the boys off ahead - free from the fears of fire ants, scorpions, snakes and lurking nasties that make me cautious back home. I heard later that my cousin spotted a snake on the trial after us and they high-tailed it out of there. Maybe it was just a little garter snake, because in my gentle mind, that's all there could ever be out there in those beautiful woods.

The trail back is along the banks of the creek where we discovered pennies hammered (?) into the rocks. tons of them. who knows why?

Me and some cheese. Who doesn't love cheese?

So it was good. And all at the same time, so sad. To say goodbye.

The squeaky lounge - in all her uncovered splendor.

Deep Throat

2008-08-21T09:13:00.004-05:00

So. I've been having this throat thing happening. When the boys were younger and the squirmy masses would be on my lap or held, I would inevitably get whacked in the face or neck with somebody's massive head. ouch. I swear officer! It wasn't my husband who gave me the fat lip - it was my kid!

And I'd wake up with a sore neck - as if I'd been grabbed or whacked in the throat and it would be a little sore to swallow. This happened regularly. Only lately? I realize that my little squirming babies are not whacking me in the face and neck anymore with their heads. And I'm still sometimes waking up with a sore neck/throat. (neck on the outside, throat on the inside.)

Yes. I've gone to a doctor. now two. Both assure me that if I had some sort of cancer, I would surely have had a flurry of other symptoms since I've had this happening for the last 3 + years. And my neck has certainly been well checked for any sort of growth or lumps (gasp. cough. gasp.) My ears/nose/throat gentleman decided to scope down my throat for a better look. So I open wide, but no! He's getting out the long scope; which really looks like a long, flexible knitting needle with a tiny flashlight on one end and a giant head-strapping eye piece on the other end, to go through my nose! The very nostril peering at you from my masthead. (I've had two babies, I can handle this... I've had two babies, I can handle this...)

So after a gentle spray of numbing agent in my nose, down goes the scope. Where can one avert their eyes for this procedure? Since I am an avert-your-eyes sort of patient, I was planning my visual escape route with little success. Closing the eyes is the only option really. And that makes me dizzy.

So strange to cough when something is so clearly in your nose...

and so strange when the numbing agent starts to wear off... not quite like the dentist. for awhile there, it felt like my two front teeth weren't there at all.

It appears that the very very back of my tongue looks enlarged. Why? Shoulder shrugs. Maybe an infection?, so we'll start there with a round of antibiotics and some steriods. The warning labels on both prove that the next 2 weeks will be bitter-pill indeed. Oh! And an added bonus on the steroid is "edginess." Both my doctor and the gentle pharmacist mentioned it. So. When I'm posting at midnight over the next two weeks, you'll know why!

Crafty Babies

2008-08-18T21:10:00.000-05:00

I went to a baby shower recently and look what I made! Just because I thought they would look cute! Just some felt stitched onto a plain old onesie. And no. These are not the onesies I'm selling through Krisalis. But maybe someday...

The Olympics, being Amish, and the best play on words I've ever seen from a 5 year old

2008-08-13T22:00:00.000-05:00

Like the rest of the world, we have Olympic fever. The boys sailed up in their "boats" to get front row seats to the opening ceremony:

You may notice something funny about the TV? Yeah, well, that wasn't any photoshop trickery, that there is just a plain old TV set. Usually? we don't watch TV. We rent from netflix and watch on the laptop all cozied up in bed. Saturday mornings might get the occasional viewing of the Biscuit Brothers. But it wasn't until the Olympics that we realized what a sad sad state our TV is in. And this is our "upgrade" from the 12 inch. Our being "behind the times" sometimes gets us the moniker of being Amish (hey - that's an easy group to slander on the internet, huh?) Guilty. I still remember the cable guy in Vancouver coming in and taking one look at our meager set and remarking - "I guess I won't be talking you into a dish..."

And one funny from our summer - it's "Fire Chief! (get it?! maybe you can't see the fringe well enough to "see" the native american-esqueness of it?) and his sidekick fireman!

Guess Who is THREE?

2008-08-10T23:11:00.004-05:00

and got a shiny new (albeit not red) wagon for his birthday?

(psst. it's the short one.)

Civic Dilemma

2008-07-14T17:11:00.004-05:00

Earlier this year Smith was called to jury duty, his first time ever, and was chosen to serve for a rather gruesome trial. While the details of the trail were hard to bear, he felt very strongly that it was important that he was there. It was a difficult time to be supportive as we couldn't discuss anything about what was going on, but I just watched him struggle with it by himself. As he described it afterwards, I was struck by how fair he seemed to be - weighing both sides, playing devil's advocate - even as the evidence piled up he continued to ask, "what if?" to fully explore both sides. To make sure. As one is, in theory, supposed to do. He struck me as a model juror. Would the rest of us do the same in the same situation I wondered? Would I?

I was also struck by the number of people who of talked ways of getting out of jury duty. A select few thanked Smith for his "duty." It seemed odd at first to be thanked for such, but I later learned that most of the thanks came from those who had either served themselves or had been somehow associated with a jury trial. It made me think about "civic duty" a bit more.

What does civic duty mean? To me it is the duty of a citizen to its country. And so, on a day to day basis, what duty do I actively perform FOR my country? Seemingly none. Yes. I pay taxes. But we all do that and it really doesn't require effort per se. Yes, I vote, but that is more in my own best interest isn't it? Jury duty seems like a small civic contribution.

Today was my turn for my civic duty. And although Smith talked about his experience in detail, I really had no idea of what to expect. I was a little excited and but also given Smith's experience, a little daunted. How would I feel judging the guilt or innocence of someone else? What kind of case would it end up being? The only trials I'd been remotely associated with were 1) a murder trail of a friend 2) the burglary trial of the serial rapist who broke into my apartment the night I had (thankfully!!! thank you again Kara Jo!) spent at a friend's house 3) the trial Smith was part of.

Out of 80 people, Smith was one of the 6 jury selected. I was up against 29 other people and I had a lot of time to study each of them, because as anyone who has been to jury selection knows, there is a lot of sitting and waiting. I was paying particular attention to how everyone was dressed, because I hate to admit after that lofty minded intro above, I didn't know what to wear. Seriously. Because when do I have to go out of the house in something other than a tank shirt and some capris? I was just thankful that I could find my "dress" shoes. However, the first outfit I chose was greeted by a strange look by my eldest who tentatively asked: "why are you wearing clothes like that mommy?" My spouse cautiously, very carefully, asked if the pants used to belong to my mother and then suggested maybe I should try a dress instead. (don't get me started on the dress...)

I know the "business end" of my wardrobe is sorely neglected. I could carbon date some of it -- including one blouse that still has the original banana republic logo in it, you know, when they were still pushing the safari theme? I'm just plain shocked that this stuff even fit. It's not like that aspect of my wardrobe was ever very full either. When I was working in an office, eccentric ensembles were pretty much expected. Gypsy skirt? Check! Hose? Not so much. So my dilemma, coupled with my son's query, made me stop to think more seriously about "why am I dressed like this?"

Why am I dressed like this? What part of me shapes how I think I'm supposed to be dressed to be in court? (or at the grocery store for that matter.) How few places in life is there a social dress code, as it were, and is it a sign of something better or lessor that our culture seems to be giving it up? Because based on my observations today, we are certainly giving it up. Am I that out of touch? Or am I just old fashioned to think that "Sunday clothes" would be the thing to wear? Am I being elitist here too? What is the idea behind dress clothes in the first place - is wearing them just to show one's position/who you are? or is it meant to show a sign of respect for others?

Overall, jury selection was fine. I wasn't chosen and I was probably over dressed. But in truth I didn't mind. It still seemed to be what I should be wearing to perform my civic duty. Part of me does wonder though, if I would have been better prepared for the question that was finally posed to me if I was in my prahnas and my birks. While my compatriots were asked such head-scratchers as

"Have you ever seen a person that you thought to be intoxicated and could you describe your experience?"

I get asked: "What does beyond a reasonable doubt mean to you?"

Let's just say that my answer was not blog worthy. I'm not a thinker on my feet, no matter the shoes.

Two Things

2008-07-01T10:26:00.003-05:00

That do not belong in the same sentence:

Mattress

and

Garden Hose

**Update**
Two more things that also don't belong in the same sentence, but are somehow much more manageable:

pee

and

trash can

Anyway, that sort of sums of my summer around here so far. How is your summer? (and VetJen please make us jealous with your tales of travels in Italy! With children! There is nary a garden hose there!)

Since We Last Spoke (entry #3)

2008-06-23T23:01:00.002-05:00

I went to Denver!

You may vaguely remember 2 years ago Sinda, Lisa & I loaded up for a mother's day trip to Houston to eat and shop (for several hours at IKEA) and overall be leisurely. I really like the idea of completely stepping out of the role of mom to celebrate it. And what better way for your spouse and children to really understand all the myriad things you do for them than to leave them?

So off Sinda and I flew to Denver to see our newly transplanted friend, sharing earbuds to watch 30Rock (with Matthew Broderick!) along the way. Those gals took all the pictures and posted almost daily about our exploits. We got little sleep - staying up late eating fabulous food and fancy cocktails (I could go for a little damselfly right now: pear whiskey, plum puree and gingerale) and then waking up early because we are just wired that way. Not even a real nap snuck in anywhere. We got to see Lisa's photo show up at the Boulder coffeehouse and a bona fide chick flick (sadly, SEX I.T.C was not yet out; we happily settled for Baby Mama.) And Sinda says I flirted with the Prahna sales chick from Tyler, but really? it was just leaving her a little note in the dressing room that we had occupied for the entire duration of a parking meter. (They had a white board in there - what else are you supposed to do with it?!)

I also got to catch up with my old buddy Liz (aka the other Liz aka Elizabeth) from high school. We stayed up late talking about all the people we'd stay up late with in high school.

You should look at Lisa's pictures of the trip here and here.
Sinda's account is here.

You will note that both accounts record the green frog wallpaper - which was my startling discovery during a slightly tipsy trip to the restroom. I was uber focused on the plastic changing table directly in front of me. There was like a novel's worth of braille on it. What could they possibly be telling the blind people about the babies? Does a blind person instinctively know where to find the braille or do they have to feel around everything and hope that they don't stumble into something gross? I was deep in the wonder of it when my gaze slowly shifted outward where OH MY GAWD THERE ARE BRIGHT GREEN FROGS EVERYWHERE! How could I have missed the frogs?!?

I wonder what we'll see in the bathroom on Mother's Day 2010!

Since We Last Spoke... (entry #2)

2008-06-09T22:45:00.001-05:00

MOVED.

Yes. We MOVED! Like we didn't really have anything else going on this month. Let me also say that it's our goofiest move yet. This from the folks who are used to moving across several state lines when we up and decide to change our address.

We moved across the street.

Sometime last year we bought a house in our neighborhood, tore it down (sadly it had too many little things that needed updating that it was best to just start over), built a new house and put it up for sale. She's lovely, but she has some challenges in our neighborhood (size, cost and location being just a few.) We hemmed and hawed back and forth about what we should do. Did we want to live there?

So we made the list (we are big list makers in our marriage) and ended up wanting to stay put: our house has a lovely yard, great shade and we've spent the last 4+ years customizing it to how we live and want to live. I even had the perfect plan for the veggie garden and a fence. FINALLY.

As time wore on though, the money side of the list really started to overshadow the emotional side. So POOF we decided to move into the new house and sell our old one.

HUGE thanks to my mom who came and watched the boys while I loaded up the Honda, backed it out of our driveway and drove up into the new driveway to unload. I packed not a single box. I made do with laundry baskets and the ubiquitous Whole Food shopping bags. Load after load. We did rent a trailer a couple days to move the really big stuff. Sounds tedious, eh? The upside is that when I unloaded, I just put it away in the new house - pack and unpack all at once. In two short weeks, we said goodbye to this:

The house when we bought it, in all its 1950s splendor (classic car undercover not included.)

This is the house now.

This is Nbear (!) when we first moved in. He's enjoying one of the favorite features of the house: the mail slot. Favorite item #2? The ramp. Both went by the wayside when we added on.

This is the day they knocked down the wall between the old house and the new when we added on.

This is a hug from the beloved Miss Aimee (with Nbear) on the sidewalk where they used to draw... before it was ripped out for planting things.

This is our perfect red kitchen. Smith and I were in total agreement on the color. An absolute first. Smith made the cabinets, I sanded, we stained and wiped and polished and hung. I will not miss the cabinet that opened by itself with its small piece of paper wedged in to keep it closed just so.

Here you can see the small table next to the window where neighborhood cats, birds and squirrels could be watched with intensity. It's also a spot to show off the tools. And apparently the perfect spot to plop my purse.

This is one very small kitchen. But, Smith made the cabinets big. Can you believe all of this stuff was in one cabinet?! If you look closely, you will spot my oldest.

Jbird on the non-code passing heart attack steps. (but aren't the lovely?) And that shade of green - "halcyon green" ahhhh.

The concrete countertop that Smith made THE 5 days prior to our house being on the cool house tour. You can even see the impressions of the sycamore leaves from our yard.

We've have good holidays and get togethers here.

We will miss the yard with its incessant leaves and pure shade.

A glimpse of the foyer - one of my favorite spots in the house. It made me feel welcome with its shiny mirrors, egg shaped light and its umbrellas (and shoes. there were always a lot of shoes in here...)

And here's the namesake of this very blog... the front porch. It's huge, completely shaded with the perfect hint of a breeze.

It also had one of these:

Since we last spoke... (entry #1)

2008-06-05T20:30:00.001-05:00

Wow. No posts since May 5! And geez louise! posting pictures from EASTER!!! What HAVE I been up to?

Firstly, I'll say that my eye is MUCH better, and without the $100 eye drops. Thanks for all the input and advice in the eye department.

Oh! Look! It's Doraguy! I'm all about the random pictures today, aren't I?

In this one, you can see her spectacular tank and the water plant that has taken it over. You can also see the most beloved backsplash that Smith installed. (I did blog about that, didn't I?)

Secondly,We finally got a new bathroom!

The bathroom that we've limped along with since we bought the house - the one with the leaks, the cracked and falling off the tile and the toilet that can't flush by itself --- sad that my 2 year old instinctively goes to lift the lid off the tank to manually flush all toilets --- she's finally gotten her face lift. We found a lovely Scot to fix her up and make her worthy of bathing in. Which I will never get to do since we...

wait for it...

Here's a little shot of my mom while you hold your breath. She's showing off her ladybug tattoo. (relax! it's temporary. It's HER mom (my late gram) who had the real tattoos.)

In your eye

2008-05-05T09:27:00.002-05:00

I have been dealing with an eye infection for the last two months. It is not the usual variety of itchiness, redness etc. It is really just a red bump on the inside of the lid. Sometimes it bugs me, sometimes it doesn't.

The eye doctor described it in great detail with a lot of names until it dawned on me what he was really saying: "you have a pimple in your eye." Given my acne-rich history I shouldn't have been surprised. His first remedy was to run lots of hot water on it and rub it. If that failed, he had a prescription for me.

So I've been on the running the hot water and gently massaging course for close to 3 weeks now. Guess what? Now I have two pimples in my eye. So I went to the pharmacy to fill the script. Guess what? $98 smackeroos.

I bet if I had eye pimples in Canada the eye drops wouldn't cost as much.

Gems from the spam files

2008-04-29T11:00:00.003-05:00

"She performed these chores with the practiced, heavy hand of the long-time sugar junkie."

[as I am in the process of deleting spam emails, sometimes they are on screen long enough for me to read them. And sometimes they are amusing. Like this little gem.]

Overheard from the house across the street...

2008-04-01T22:12:00.002-05:00

My neighbor had been working with her son to get over the last hurdle of potty training: #2 in the loo. She had come up with an elaborate reward system whereby for 6 correct 'deposits' there would be a purchase of a much coveted robot toy.

The next morning, her son is perched on the potty, struggling away. She makes the comment that, "gee, you usually don't have to go poo until the afternoon..."

he responds with a sigh, "yeah, but I really want that robot."

Flossworthy

2008-03-30T22:45:00.004-05:00

I recently went to the dentist and the hygienist and I were talking about floss, she usually lets you pick your preferred brand to go home with. I mentioned that I'm quite partial to the Oral B Ultra Floss. She confided in me that they were having a hard time getting it lately. Perhaps they are discontinuing it? Perhaps while I'm out I should stock up?

Immediately my mind went to that Seinfeld episode. Hmm..I only had soup today, maybe I should save the floss for tomorrow night when we are going to the movies. there could be popcorn...

Death

2008-03-30T21:27:00.002-05:00

We had a close call today with our beloved pet Dora-guy (remember, it's with the French pronunciation...) Today Smith decided it was time to clean her big beautiful bowl. He had her camped out in a temporary bowl during the dirty work. Then came the moment to transfer her back into her clean home. Well. Dora-guy must have wings because she jumped from the small jar out into the sink and down the garbage disposal.

And then there was a few expletives.

What seemed like 5 minutes later, Smith's arm is down the disposal after having cleared away all those Sunday morning dishes we had yet to do, literally fishing her out. Thankfully she survived. But man was it tense there for awhile! Whew! The kids could totally sense it and were upset.

And it didn't feel any easier despite my presence at a wonderful parenting seminar hosted by the founder of Nbear's school: talking to children about death and dying. One big reason I love this school so much is the parent education that is offered. I figured the room would be packed. I mean, who doesn't want to be prepared for this "biggie?!" Well. I guess a lot of folks. Even in Donna's handout she joked that it is the least attended of all of her talks. We are a culture that is afraid of dealing with real death. Fake movie/tv/murder mystery novel death? (and who doesn't love a good zombie movie now and then?) We're all over that. But the real stuff, we shy far far away from.

When we lived in Vancouver, there was a series that ran in the Sunday paper. A writer was chronicling the last year (he presumed) in the life of this youngish woman with terminal stomach cancer. He followed her diagnosis, the stages of her treatment and disease, her good days, her totally lousy days, the fights with her doctor, the response of her friends, her feelings, her pain, her acceptance, the complete denial of others and finally her death. It was a wonderful glimpse into something that is very real and for many of us, very foreign. This woman was so honest with her feelings and the writer so forthright with presenting it. Her story was a gift to me - a deeper understanding of the feelings one may have toward the end of life.

After the parent seminar, I ended up in an unusually long phone conversation about death with my parents. Each described some key memories in their life in relation to someone's death. It was very interesting to hear how each of their families treated the subject, and to hear their responses and feelings as children. At the start of the seminar, Donna had us remember an experience (old or recent) when we felt like someone wasn't giving us the whole story. It was an excellent prelude into the topic, because kids can feel like they aren't getting the "whole story" in the way most of us talk to them about death. For example, even the simple euphemisms that are used to talk about someone's dying: he slipped away in his sleep, we lost grandma, aunt flo passed away... it's very confusing to a kid. If I get lost does that mean I'm going to die? What does it really mean to die?

Anyway. The highlights of the talk (and forgive me if some of it sounds less "gentle" in tone, these are just some of my notes):
- Use every opportunity that presents itself to talk about the little details of death. Dead bug? note how stiff its body is. Roadkill? talk about the smell of death and how that is nature at work. A pet dies? Have the whole family participate in whatever ritual to say good bye - be it a burial, a scrapbook memorial or writing in a diary. All these little bits and pieces of information over time will make it easier for them to understand when a beloved person dies. And maybe you won't have to explain exactly what happens to great uncle fred's body when he dies, while you are in the midst of your grief.

- Talk about death as a natural cycle of life. Everything that is alive is born, lives and dies.

- Talk about grief and sadness being normal and okay feelings. You don't have to hide your tears from them to "protect" them. They will only think you are hiding something and be hurt and confused. Also let them know that those feelings will get less and less painful over time, but the memory of that person will remain with them.

- Talk to kids about what to expect from a funeral or burial if they want to go - from the flowers, to the casket, to what is expected for them to do or not do. They are curious, let them be prepared (before you get there.)

that's it in a nutshell, not so hard really, was it? Do you feel better prepared or still scared?

Overheard from the back seat...

2008-03-27T23:16:00.004-05:00

"LOOKT! LOOKT! A bunk bed truck!"

"NOOO, (drawn out name as pronounced by big brother) that's a FLAT bed truck!"

What'd you call me?

2008-03-19T20:26:00.010-05:00

Oftentimes when I meet someone new, they ask what name I go by.

For me, that feels like a loaded question. How long will I know you? What will our relationship be? For it seems that at different points in my life and at different levels of intimacy, I am called different things. And each iteration has a different meaning for me. Am I unique in this regard?

I guess my name offers a lot of possibilities. I am Kristina Marie Kaczmarek Holt. A lovely mouthful.

Kristina after a woman friend that was kind to my dad when he was young. (thankfully she was not also named Jedwiga. If you haven't heard the Jedwiga story, email me.) Marie after my mother. Kaczmarek because that's the name my relatives in the old country took after their own last name had come into some sort of disgrace. The story is vague. And Holt because I married one.

When I was little, friends and teachers called me Kris. Hardly ever Kristina.

My mom and dad used to call me Punkin or the Punk when I was young. The rest of my family calls me Krissy. When I call a relative and announce "Hi! It's Kristina" I get a silent pause at the other end before I have to interject "I mean Krissy." I think there is only one person outside of my family who calls me Krissy. But I've known her since I counted my years in the single digits. She's family. Also? When she's feeling sarcastic? She calls me Prissy. That's okay. That's when I call her Jennifart.

When I moved from New York to Texas in my tender middle school years the familiar, comfortable Kris was eclipsed by Kristy. Or Kristine (choosing my own spelling here...) That last "a" sound seemed like a terribly hard leap for those spandex wearing southern teachers. In NY, I was the only one in my school (all 6 grades) that had that name. Now I shared it with a ripe half dozen of those variations in each class.

One middle school teacher only addressed us by last names. Can you guess if he was a full-fledged teacher or just a part-time coach posing as a teacher? Yeah. Anyway. He seemed incapable? uninterested? in getting my last night right so just ended up calling me Kaz-i-Mizzer-ak. Until I started responding with a bastardized version of his last name. I seem a little taken aback now that I had the huevos to call him Mr. Grifag to his face. But I did. If I was a boy? I have the strong sense that it would have earned me a POP outside in the hall, but I was a girl, and you couldn't POP a girl. Yeah sexism!

The summer before my freshman year of high school, I randomly met a super cute guy at a Bryan Adams concert at Astroworld. How lucky was I to learn that he was a dreamy senior varsity football player from my very own high school? And yes, he remembered me when school started. Even talked to me when he saw me in the halls DESPITE the fact that he was dating one of the twin cheerleaders. Heather I think? And even sweeter? Whenever they would play a Bryan Adams song at a dance or homecoming? he'd come find me to dance with. He called me "Cashmere" (that football playing last name thing again) which sort of rhymed with my last name, but isn't that sort of endearing? I'm sure he had never seen my name spelled out, and only heard me pronounce it maybe twice. I didn't press the issue. I didn't really care what he called me.

A little while after that, I started working at a college radio station. I needed an "air name." Avoiding the whole Kris/Kristina/Kristy/Kristine thing altogether, I went with Kazy. There are a good handful of people who ONLY know me by that name, including the family of my best friend at the time: Tina (coincidentally, she was a Christine by birth. She went by Tina. Why didn't I think of that?)

My batch of friends at PVA would call me Krispy or Krispy-tina. I can't really remember exactly why. Sitting outside at lunch, I was the most likely to get burned (crispy fried), while everyone else seemed to get a tan. (or in the case of lizard, really really really tan.) I also got called Elizabeth a fair number of times. In the media department, there were many girls and many of us blond and many named Elizabeth. A friend started calling me KEK - giving me the honorary middle name of Elizabeth.

In Australia, the pronunciation of Kristina is more like Kristiner. As heard in the oft spoken phrase "Kristiner'll have another pint of VB." After awhile though, my pub buddies called me Tex though, for my drawl. Seemed funny to me, sort of sacrilegious being born in NY and all.

When I started working, Kris seemed like a more professional version of my name. When I got married, Kristina seemed to work better with my new short last name (which I still have to spell out for new people. I traded in the long name to stop the spelling!) Now I'm happy to hear mom.

So what do I go by? It's really more about what another person is comfortable with. I'll answer to whatever you want to call me, just as long as you call me.

Did I miss any?

[AH Yes! Bud (also not his real name) reminded me of another "rhymes with kaczmarek" nickname that I he bestowed upon me: car-wreck.]

Marathon Woman

2008-03-10T20:40:00.004-05:00

!!! At this point, I will excuse any of the male readers in my audience from reading the following post. I don't mind if you do, but you just may feel a little too close to me towards the end of this. I will also refrain from using any of the euphemisms listed here. A decidedly male list...

note: all of MY lame euphemisms will be italicized. just for fun.

(this might also excuse you dad, despite the fact that you are my unsung hero for trotting out in the middle of some remote spot in Thailand to fetch feminine supplies because I had a surprise visit from my girlfriend*. A place where the "bathroom" was a hole in the ground and the added "traveler's convenience" of a bucket of water was not going to cut it for this time of the month. I don't know where you got them, or how you, gigantic white germanic male, communicated with the tiny asian female shopkeepers (where there actually SHOPS there??? How FAR did you have to WALK with these hummers???) about what you needed, but thank you!)

And thanks to Sinda, of course where would I be without her? My life has changed. I am now tracking OTR time on ye olde mymonthlycycles.com. Yes. On the internet. I laughed at her at first. But then I thought about my rather vague system of keeping track... which was little more than my "oh crap! has it really been a month already?" So why not step up to the internet! They send me a gracious email reminder that the big week is coming up and isn't it nice to be prepared, instead of unpleasantly surprised?

The other lovely feature is you can look at your cycle history. So you can answer intelligently when your gynecologist pointedly asks you about such details. (Shh. don't tell, but before now? I just guessed.)

So in February, I had a sad moment when looking at my chart. In the short month of February, there were only 11 days when I was not visiting Aunt Flo. sigh.

But wait! There's more! When I went out to the movies the other night with Sinda, I could celebrate the end of the longest cycle in my entire life:

FIFTEEN DAYS.

yes.

In a row. You can totally see how I could think, "gee. if I could somehow manage to get pregnant by next month, I SO wouldn't have to deal with this. That's like 2 years, pad-free!"

The last tomato in the face here? the google search resulting in this. Normal. Perimenopause. Thanks for making me feel crampy AND old. She is SO NOT my girlfriend.

*a euphemism from my grandma Dell. Upon learning the news of my first steps toward womanhood, she immediately went outside to proudly shout across the street to Mary & Bea that "Krissy got her girlfriend!!"