That's A.M.
Nephew one, nearly eight, busts in to the bedroom and says:
N1: Aunt Maxine, I really need something to eat or I think I might throw up.
AM: Do you want me to cut you up an apple?
N1: No. That just won't do it.
I had to think fast because cleaning up vomit might just make me do the same. Really. I was reviewing what I had seen in the fridge and trying to think what might fill the bill. His mom says he will eat whatever we eat, and of her, that might be true, but we, umm, eat a little better than she does. We're all about cultivating our food snobbery.
AM: There's a bagel. Do you want it plain? Toasted? With butter?
N1: What I really like to eat is corn with peas.
I look in the fridge and lo and behold, there is a bowl covered with saran wrap of corn with peas.
AM: OK! Corn and peas it is.
N1: Don't make fun. It's not nice and I really like it. Really.
I'm not one to take being admonished by a seven year old(there is no nearly eight at this point, he's seven) and especially not at 5:35 in the morning, but he was all curled up on the couch looking pitiful and I was still concerned he might yak, so I cut him some slack. His corn and peas were warmed and I let him have them right there on the couch and I went back to bed.
About half an hour later, he is standing right next to the bed.
N1: Aunt Maxine. I have to get into bed with you guys because it's freezing on the couch.
Not one to argue half awake I help him settle in between us where it's nice and warm. He went right to sleep and I was graced with his corn and pea breath. Charming.
About 730, nephew two enters the picture. I could hear him calling s brother, looking for him. He had fallen asleep on the couch last night before seven. When I was up with N1, I noticed he wasn't there and even though he has his own keys to everything, I was pretty confident his four year old industrious self had in all likelihood awoken during the night and gone up to bed. Aunt Betsy (that's eb) had asked me if he was still sleeping after the N1 ordeal and I told her I thought he must have gone up to bed. She went and confirmed because she's good like that.
The bedroom door was closed and it was sort of like hearing a game of MarcoPolo. I could hear him calling and I then called him. He didn't hear me or was just distraught at not finding his brother. I finally got up and went out to see where he was and he was on the couch all sad looking.
N2: Where's N1?
AM: Getting warm in bed with us. Want to come?
Head nodding was the only answer. There really isn't much room left in the bed when the two of them are hogging the middle and Aunt Betsy and I got up around 8. N2 followed. N1 is still sleeping off his corn and peas.
It's a good thing we were both freezing our asses off enough to wear our pyjamas to bed last night.
PS...I alomst forgot. According to N2 (he with the heavy southun accent), you fry eggs in the payun.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Please tell me she was kidding,,,
Earlier this month, Persetta graduated. She was my TCM student doc for the last 6 months. I go to the local college of acupuncture for treatment every two weeks.
LiAn is my new TCM student doc. I was a little hesitant going with a second year student (Percetta was a fourth year), but LiAn is who Percetta and DR. Z(the supervisor and recognized herb guru) both recommended. I was expecting her to be a little less sure of herself, but let me tell you, she is confident with the needles and somewhat aggressive about it. These are good things. There are subtle differences in my results that aren't really something I can verbalize, small improvements difficult to quantify, but improvements nonetheless.
Yesterday I had 41 needles. LiAn said, "Some of your needles today will be bigger."
I held up my hand and told her, "Stop right there. I don't need to know more." Percetta knew how wussy I am about the whole needle thing and that I didn't want to know anything about it, that I trusted her to just do her thing. I don't need to see them. I don't need to know they might be bigger. I don't need to know that bigger needles go deeper.
Well, I forgot that all, and now I know. I need to clue LiAn in on my next visit. When she mentioned this and I told her to stop, I also opened my eyes. I was laying down on the table, glasses off and relatively relaxed. As I opened my eyes, my heart was racing just a tad. My spine tensed up and being already full of needles, I couldn't really move to stretch it out, so I asked LiAn to pause which she did, until I could breathe a little and calm my racing heart. From my vantage point, prone, eyes open, and glasses off, the needles on either side of my nose came into focus and they looked like small finishing nails. In my face. That did little to help slow my racing heart so I closed my eyes and tried a few deep cleansing breaths. I was relaxed again in a few moments and LiAn quietly went about her work.
After the needles came out and I met LiAn at the desk, She told me, "Your pulse slippery today, so new rules...no sweet. No fried. No cheese. No spicy"
"What's left," I innocently queried.
"No sweet. No fried. No cheese. No spicy."
No food love? Oh my.
The new rule journey begins today. I think no spicy will be the greatest challenge, and I am modifying that right out of the box to less spicy. I told LiAn this and she frowned and basically conceded we have to start somewhere.
LiAn is my new TCM student doc. I was a little hesitant going with a second year student (Percetta was a fourth year), but LiAn is who Percetta and DR. Z(the supervisor and recognized herb guru) both recommended. I was expecting her to be a little less sure of herself, but let me tell you, she is confident with the needles and somewhat aggressive about it. These are good things. There are subtle differences in my results that aren't really something I can verbalize, small improvements difficult to quantify, but improvements nonetheless.
Yesterday I had 41 needles. LiAn said, "Some of your needles today will be bigger."
I held up my hand and told her, "Stop right there. I don't need to know more." Percetta knew how wussy I am about the whole needle thing and that I didn't want to know anything about it, that I trusted her to just do her thing. I don't need to see them. I don't need to know they might be bigger. I don't need to know that bigger needles go deeper.
Well, I forgot that all, and now I know. I need to clue LiAn in on my next visit. When she mentioned this and I told her to stop, I also opened my eyes. I was laying down on the table, glasses off and relatively relaxed. As I opened my eyes, my heart was racing just a tad. My spine tensed up and being already full of needles, I couldn't really move to stretch it out, so I asked LiAn to pause which she did, until I could breathe a little and calm my racing heart. From my vantage point, prone, eyes open, and glasses off, the needles on either side of my nose came into focus and they looked like small finishing nails. In my face. That did little to help slow my racing heart so I closed my eyes and tried a few deep cleansing breaths. I was relaxed again in a few moments and LiAn quietly went about her work.
After the needles came out and I met LiAn at the desk, She told me, "Your pulse slippery today, so new rules...no sweet. No fried. No cheese. No spicy"
"What's left," I innocently queried.
"No sweet. No fried. No cheese. No spicy."
No food love? Oh my.
The new rule journey begins today. I think no spicy will be the greatest challenge, and I am modifying that right out of the box to less spicy. I told LiAn this and she frowned and basically conceded we have to start somewhere.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Birth Day
Twenty-four years and a few hours ago, I was in crazy pain. I was twenty years old and at that very moment, I had the harsh realization that maybe I didn't know quite everything. Harsh. Very harsh.
Sometime the night before, I was awakened in the night to these sudden and sharp pains in the small of my back, pausing just a moment, and then searing up my spine. I thought I was going to die. Then, my water broke and the only thing that came to mind was a big "Uh oh..."
At the time, I lived in a house on the hill in a fairly wealthy section of Lake Placid. The only way this was affordable was to have five of my nearest and dearest move in with me. It was a four bedroom and I shared a room with Chef's father. It was downstairs and had an attached full bath. Kathy had the other downstairs bedroom, also with an attached bath. Upstairs was Kim in her own bedroom and Danny and Val, sharing the fourth bedroom. Both upstairs bedrooms shared a bath, and each were equipped with two twin beds. The place had oil heat, but we mostly relied on the woodstove downstairs in the living room, and since we were all coming and going at various odd hours, it was pretty easy to keep it going most of the time.
Kim was my best friend and we had fully discussed her taking me to the hospital when it was time. It was very naive of us to presume that "time" would be convenient to our schedules, and that making the 15 mile ride to the hospital wouldn't be that big a deal. We hadn't considered that it might be the middle of the night. Or that I would be in excruciating pain. Or that it would be one of the worst snow and ice storms we had ever known. Or that Kathy would be the only person home at the time and
not the person I wanted in attendance.
I think it took us well over an hour to get to the hospital, and it was a miracle we didn't freeze to death in a ditch on the side of the road. As bad as the pain was, I couldn't fathom giving birth in the back seat of the car, and home delivery was in no way an option.
My OB doc, Dr. V, was a pleasant older man. He was nearing retirement and had a new young partner. A very handsome and sexy new young partner, Dr. M. I made it my entire treatment schedule managing to see only the aging Dr. V. and having done nothing more than shake hands at the initial meeting with Dr. M. You know who was on call that night. Damn.
Had I taken child birth classes? Umm, no. Had I read up on the process? Nope. I was 20 and figured anything I needed to know would be explained along the way. I didn't ask a single question. I had no idea that an epidural might leave me paralyzed. But when that answer to my excruciating pain was offered up very matter-of-factly, I signed the consent form and held very still for that long thick needle to be inserted into my spine.
And then, the next thing I knew, from about my boobies down, I. Felt. Nothing. Not a thing. It was as if my body just stopped at my boobies. My contractions were still charging away as evidenced by the monitor, but I didn't feel a damn thing. I was liking it.
Since that illustrious time in my life, I have learned a wee bit more. I know, for example, it is quite ordinary to have an epidural and still be able to push. Mine was administered a tad too high. No pushing for me. All of a sudden it was time and my thighs and knees were right there on the table along side my shoulders and upper arms. This struck me as terribly funny. I was laughing uncontrollably at the sight of it all and it still gives me a chuckle today.
Delivery was a breeze and suddenly there was a baby on me. Kathy had to hold him there because I still could feel nothing. The nurses took him away after a few minutes and I was cleaned up and wheeled back to my room.
The next three days were a bit of a blur because I had a nasty reaction to the epidural. "I suppose she's allergic," one nurse quitly said. I was violently ill for three days. At one point it felt as if I was vomitting with every breath I drew. And in spite of it being 94 degrees in my room and me having multiple layers of blankets, I was freezing.
In the middle of all this, round about day two, I met my almost mother and sisters-in-law. Almost. I had been dating Chef's father for more than three years, two of those years living together, and I had met his youngest sister. Turns out she was the sane one in the family. Kathy had told Chef's father how sick I was. She told him that she could take him to see his son (and maybe me, too) at any time because she took those days off. Did he show up once? No. But I was lucky enough to meet his mom and sisters under those charming circumstances. Go team.
When I went home on day six, I had plenty of help to figure the mom thing out. Mostly, I sat in the rocker in front of the fire and drank a lot of juice to try to rehydrate a little. Someone always brought home some homemade soup from the deli for the first month or so, and it slowly became apparent that I was seeing less and less of chef's father. At that point, I really didn't care.
Enough thinking about the physical pain...Happy 24th, Chef!
Sometime the night before, I was awakened in the night to these sudden and sharp pains in the small of my back, pausing just a moment, and then searing up my spine. I thought I was going to die. Then, my water broke and the only thing that came to mind was a big "Uh oh..."
At the time, I lived in a house on the hill in a fairly wealthy section of Lake Placid. The only way this was affordable was to have five of my nearest and dearest move in with me. It was a four bedroom and I shared a room with Chef's father. It was downstairs and had an attached full bath. Kathy had the other downstairs bedroom, also with an attached bath. Upstairs was Kim in her own bedroom and Danny and Val, sharing the fourth bedroom. Both upstairs bedrooms shared a bath, and each were equipped with two twin beds. The place had oil heat, but we mostly relied on the woodstove downstairs in the living room, and since we were all coming and going at various odd hours, it was pretty easy to keep it going most of the time.
Kim was my best friend and we had fully discussed her taking me to the hospital when it was time. It was very naive of us to presume that "time" would be convenient to our schedules, and that making the 15 mile ride to the hospital wouldn't be that big a deal. We hadn't considered that it might be the middle of the night. Or that I would be in excruciating pain. Or that it would be one of the worst snow and ice storms we had ever known. Or that Kathy would be the only person home at the time and
not the person I wanted in attendance.
I think it took us well over an hour to get to the hospital, and it was a miracle we didn't freeze to death in a ditch on the side of the road. As bad as the pain was, I couldn't fathom giving birth in the back seat of the car, and home delivery was in no way an option.
My OB doc, Dr. V, was a pleasant older man. He was nearing retirement and had a new young partner. A very handsome and sexy new young partner, Dr. M. I made it my entire treatment schedule managing to see only the aging Dr. V. and having done nothing more than shake hands at the initial meeting with Dr. M. You know who was on call that night. Damn.
Had I taken child birth classes? Umm, no. Had I read up on the process? Nope. I was 20 and figured anything I needed to know would be explained along the way. I didn't ask a single question. I had no idea that an epidural might leave me paralyzed. But when that answer to my excruciating pain was offered up very matter-of-factly, I signed the consent form and held very still for that long thick needle to be inserted into my spine.
And then, the next thing I knew, from about my boobies down, I. Felt. Nothing. Not a thing. It was as if my body just stopped at my boobies. My contractions were still charging away as evidenced by the monitor, but I didn't feel a damn thing. I was liking it.
Since that illustrious time in my life, I have learned a wee bit more. I know, for example, it is quite ordinary to have an epidural and still be able to push. Mine was administered a tad too high. No pushing for me. All of a sudden it was time and my thighs and knees were right there on the table along side my shoulders and upper arms. This struck me as terribly funny. I was laughing uncontrollably at the sight of it all and it still gives me a chuckle today.
Delivery was a breeze and suddenly there was a baby on me. Kathy had to hold him there because I still could feel nothing. The nurses took him away after a few minutes and I was cleaned up and wheeled back to my room.
The next three days were a bit of a blur because I had a nasty reaction to the epidural. "I suppose she's allergic," one nurse quitly said. I was violently ill for three days. At one point it felt as if I was vomitting with every breath I drew. And in spite of it being 94 degrees in my room and me having multiple layers of blankets, I was freezing.
In the middle of all this, round about day two, I met my almost mother and sisters-in-law. Almost. I had been dating Chef's father for more than three years, two of those years living together, and I had met his youngest sister. Turns out she was the sane one in the family. Kathy had told Chef's father how sick I was. She told him that she could take him to see his son (and maybe me, too) at any time because she took those days off. Did he show up once? No. But I was lucky enough to meet his mom and sisters under those charming circumstances. Go team.
When I went home on day six, I had plenty of help to figure the mom thing out. Mostly, I sat in the rocker in front of the fire and drank a lot of juice to try to rehydrate a little. Someone always brought home some homemade soup from the deli for the first month or so, and it slowly became apparent that I was seeing less and less of chef's father. At that point, I really didn't care.
Enough thinking about the physical pain...Happy 24th, Chef!
Monday, December 29, 2008
A year ago...
My good intentions have been straying for nearly a year. How does that happen? It isn't that there haven't been other good intentions in the mean time, but honestly a year? I don't understand how I could have been so remiss. It has been a year since I have posted over on the new blog, Cultivating Grace. I am so ashamed.
I need some sort of publishing goal for that blog. Daily is definitely out of the question and weekly, too, seems daunting. Monthly seems lazy. Twice monthly seems achievable. I will declare it. My goal for CG for 2009 shall be twice monthly.
I read an awesome book a few months back, so awesome that I took notes as I reread it immediately upon finishing it the first time around. I had an entire post in my head surrounding the notes for the CG blog and poof. It is missing. The notes might be findable and I think I might make this an immediate task. I think I will order the book too as I had it from the library on the first go round.
The book is called The Knitting Sutra and it is by Susan Gordon Lydon. It is subtitled Craft as a Spiritual Practice. I know there are those among you who scoff at the idea of reading a knitting book, but honestly, this book is suitable for the non-knitter. I challenge you to check it out from the library, read it, and then tell me it isn't great. You know you want to...
My other goal for the new year is to get my Etsy.com shop up and running. That has been languishing since Nov 07. Imagine renting a store front and just letting it sit there for a year. That wouldn't happen so I guess it is time to take it a wee bit more seriously and be a tad more proactive in its pursuit.
That leads to my other goal. More knitting.
Simple enough.
Really.
I need some sort of publishing goal for that blog. Daily is definitely out of the question and weekly, too, seems daunting. Monthly seems lazy. Twice monthly seems achievable. I will declare it. My goal for CG for 2009 shall be twice monthly.
I read an awesome book a few months back, so awesome that I took notes as I reread it immediately upon finishing it the first time around. I had an entire post in my head surrounding the notes for the CG blog and poof. It is missing. The notes might be findable and I think I might make this an immediate task. I think I will order the book too as I had it from the library on the first go round.
The book is called The Knitting Sutra and it is by Susan Gordon Lydon. It is subtitled Craft as a Spiritual Practice. I know there are those among you who scoff at the idea of reading a knitting book, but honestly, this book is suitable for the non-knitter. I challenge you to check it out from the library, read it, and then tell me it isn't great. You know you want to...
My other goal for the new year is to get my Etsy.com shop up and running. That has been languishing since Nov 07. Imagine renting a store front and just letting it sit there for a year. That wouldn't happen so I guess it is time to take it a wee bit more seriously and be a tad more proactive in its pursuit.
That leads to my other goal. More knitting.
Simple enough.
Really.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The saga begins...
Aunt Flo wasn't quite kicking my ass, but I wanted nothing more that to lie in bed all afternoon, so when I got home from work shortly after four, I did exactly that.
Deep under the covers is right where eb found me when she got home around 530. I had wanted to go with her to her appointment with La Querida, but I just wasn't getting up for anything. I even had the jar of Skippy and a spoon on my bedside table so I was pretty settled in. I was toggling back and forth at that point between an old Kurt russell movie, The Thing, and an episode of Stargate. I was into the movie until the thing first appeared, but then lost interest. I wanted to put a movie on, but was too entrenched in my covers to get up even for that.
Before I started dozing, I decided to get up and make some mac and cheese and cheddarwurst, always good for what ails you. I knew eb would be coming in around the time it all came together and made the family size box with extra pasta. Velveeta Shells and Cheese always needs extra pasta to make it edible so it was a nice stretch and it left extra for the boys.
I dished up our portions and eb asked where I was going to eat. I think she knew the answer would be in bed, but she was just being sure. As I was getting settled back amongst the covers, she asked if I wanted her to put a movie in. She was all prepared to indulge me with The Rock when our newest TV on DVD addition caught her eye, and thus the saga begins... Witchblade...
Sarah Pazini looks good in HD at 42 inches.
Deep under the covers is right where eb found me when she got home around 530. I had wanted to go with her to her appointment with La Querida, but I just wasn't getting up for anything. I even had the jar of Skippy and a spoon on my bedside table so I was pretty settled in. I was toggling back and forth at that point between an old Kurt russell movie, The Thing, and an episode of Stargate. I was into the movie until the thing first appeared, but then lost interest. I wanted to put a movie on, but was too entrenched in my covers to get up even for that.
Before I started dozing, I decided to get up and make some mac and cheese and cheddarwurst, always good for what ails you. I knew eb would be coming in around the time it all came together and made the family size box with extra pasta. Velveeta Shells and Cheese always needs extra pasta to make it edible so it was a nice stretch and it left extra for the boys.
I dished up our portions and eb asked where I was going to eat. I think she knew the answer would be in bed, but she was just being sure. As I was getting settled back amongst the covers, she asked if I wanted her to put a movie in. She was all prepared to indulge me with The Rock when our newest TV on DVD addition caught her eye, and thus the saga begins... Witchblade...
Sarah Pazini looks good in HD at 42 inches.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
xmas comes early
EB and I , in a round about way, sort of agreed on no presents this year. I suppose no presents is a stretch. More precisely, we agreed on no frenzied shopping just to have a mass of gidts under the tree. Life has been good to us of late, and we pretty much get what we feel we need as we need it. Or as we are inspired by events otherwise.
This really began long before the recent visit North to check up on my mom, but that trip serves as a perfect example to illustrate that xmas comes early.
We, eb and I, really needed to help mom organize and sort through the congestion of crap that is her humble home. It likely goes without saying that this isn't exactly what Barbara needed. I think barbara just needed some company. We had decided before we left home that there wouldn't be a contest of wills. We agreed that we were traveling North with no expectations. The visit was actually much more pleasant than I had anticipated once we got past the notion of really having to organize.
Having to organize and not being able to translated to limiting the amount of time spent at Casa Barb. On one of the many little side trips around the North Country, my mom asked if we could stop at the bank so she could pick up a little cash. No, ma, we can't. Of course we stopped and she went on inside.
When she came back to the car, she passed an envelope back to me and said, "Here's a little something for your trouble." Once I counted the little something, I knew instantly my mom was buying our complicity in her denial about needing to organize. The little white bank envelope held 20 fifties. Good daughter that I am, I asked her if she was certain she had given me the correct envelope. "It isn't enough? The number should start with a one." Apparently I had the correct envelope afterall.
This is when xmas first came early. We blew the whole wad while we were up North. Some in a gallery in Lake Placid. Some at the yarn store. Some at the bead store. I could sit here and take a full inventory and not be able to tell you where all the money went, but it was the beginning of our holiday season or the end of our birthday season...in style...
Yesterday was the holiday JCP associate shopping event. That it is the last associate shopping event we will attend isn't germaine to our having bought the whole store. Of course we didn't buy the whole store, we never even went downstairs for crying out loud. Usually on associat shopping we end up spending two to three hundred dollars and we get a lot of stuff. This year we were much more selective though we did manage a few impulse purchases along the way as well as managed the barest restraint.
We went intending to get jeans, underthings, candles and sheets. We managed all of these as well as various assorted tops. I think we were remiss in not going down to the shoe department, but we do still have a few weeks to decide if we need some new shoes.
Our impulse purchases? I finally got a dutch oven. Original price was $140, on sale for $70, final price $36 and some change. I am going to break it in, possible this weekend with Ina's French cookbook. I need to peruse it again and select just the right thing...
Out other impulse purchase was a new set of dishes. I am not quite sure how the new set, 4 of everything, will replace our current 8 of everything, but the deal was similar to that on the dutch oven. I am half considering seeing if the store manager will honor the price on a second set.
Candles were on our list, but they also fall to the impulse category as well because we, umm...bought about 15 or so big, Chunky, Candles. The house will smell divine.
Our restraint? We were going to get a wall unit for the master bath but we didn't. We had already decided on something from Ikea. That's one reason. Of the choices, eb oreferred one and I preferred the other, but neither of us felt strongly enough about it to make our case, so we decided to wait.
We had $1400 of merchandise, 42 items, and came in under $500. Ho. Ho. Ho.
Life is good.
This really began long before the recent visit North to check up on my mom, but that trip serves as a perfect example to illustrate that xmas comes early.
We, eb and I, really needed to help mom organize and sort through the congestion of crap that is her humble home. It likely goes without saying that this isn't exactly what Barbara needed. I think barbara just needed some company. We had decided before we left home that there wouldn't be a contest of wills. We agreed that we were traveling North with no expectations. The visit was actually much more pleasant than I had anticipated once we got past the notion of really having to organize.
Having to organize and not being able to translated to limiting the amount of time spent at Casa Barb. On one of the many little side trips around the North Country, my mom asked if we could stop at the bank so she could pick up a little cash. No, ma, we can't. Of course we stopped and she went on inside.
When she came back to the car, she passed an envelope back to me and said, "Here's a little something for your trouble." Once I counted the little something, I knew instantly my mom was buying our complicity in her denial about needing to organize. The little white bank envelope held 20 fifties. Good daughter that I am, I asked her if she was certain she had given me the correct envelope. "It isn't enough? The number should start with a one." Apparently I had the correct envelope afterall.
This is when xmas first came early. We blew the whole wad while we were up North. Some in a gallery in Lake Placid. Some at the yarn store. Some at the bead store. I could sit here and take a full inventory and not be able to tell you where all the money went, but it was the beginning of our holiday season or the end of our birthday season...in style...
Yesterday was the holiday JCP associate shopping event. That it is the last associate shopping event we will attend isn't germaine to our having bought the whole store. Of course we didn't buy the whole store, we never even went downstairs for crying out loud. Usually on associat shopping we end up spending two to three hundred dollars and we get a lot of stuff. This year we were much more selective though we did manage a few impulse purchases along the way as well as managed the barest restraint.
We went intending to get jeans, underthings, candles and sheets. We managed all of these as well as various assorted tops. I think we were remiss in not going down to the shoe department, but we do still have a few weeks to decide if we need some new shoes.
Our impulse purchases? I finally got a dutch oven. Original price was $140, on sale for $70, final price $36 and some change. I am going to break it in, possible this weekend with Ina's French cookbook. I need to peruse it again and select just the right thing...
Out other impulse purchase was a new set of dishes. I am not quite sure how the new set, 4 of everything, will replace our current 8 of everything, but the deal was similar to that on the dutch oven. I am half considering seeing if the store manager will honor the price on a second set.
Candles were on our list, but they also fall to the impulse category as well because we, umm...bought about 15 or so big, Chunky, Candles. The house will smell divine.
Our restraint? We were going to get a wall unit for the master bath but we didn't. We had already decided on something from Ikea. That's one reason. Of the choices, eb oreferred one and I preferred the other, but neither of us felt strongly enough about it to make our case, so we decided to wait.
We had $1400 of merchandise, 42 items, and came in under $500. Ho. Ho. Ho.
Life is good.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Naked in the House
What a wonderful way to start the day!! Naked! In the house!!
I absolutely love it when I get up in the morning and I know, without checking, it is a naked in the house kind of morning. T is off holidaying with his other fam in CO, and W is at work, of this I am certain because I actually heard him leave this morning in the wee hours. This creates, ta-daaaaaaaaaaaa...a Boy Free Zone!
EB and I take every opportunity to commune with our environment in all our joyous nakedness and cherish the BFZ above most everything(excepting, of course, each other). I am so giddy about it that I ordered my chai this morning with whole milk. It is a morning to celebrate and indulge.
The downside of my giddiness came by way of forgetting something for which I will pay the price all morning. The moisturizer eb uses is not moisturizer I can use because, alas, it has a very minute amount of lavendar in it. I say very minute because given the sniff test, I thought it was safe. It isn't. So now I am enjoying the tingly sensation on my minimally moisturized face. If you have ever had a chemical peel or intense facial, you know what I mean.
My eyebrows, the edges of my lips, the edge of my chin, and along my hairline on my forehead are all atingle. I know from previous similar experience that washing my face again, unless I was to fully jump into the shower for a thorough dousing, would only make it worse. I sort of have to just ride out the storm on the rare occasion this happens. Perhaps this time, the action will take hold in my memory in such a way that I don't readily forget such things again. I am just glad I used it so sparingly.
What sounds good for lunch?
I absolutely love it when I get up in the morning and I know, without checking, it is a naked in the house kind of morning. T is off holidaying with his other fam in CO, and W is at work, of this I am certain because I actually heard him leave this morning in the wee hours. This creates, ta-daaaaaaaaaaaa...a Boy Free Zone!
EB and I take every opportunity to commune with our environment in all our joyous nakedness and cherish the BFZ above most everything(excepting, of course, each other). I am so giddy about it that I ordered my chai this morning with whole milk. It is a morning to celebrate and indulge.
The downside of my giddiness came by way of forgetting something for which I will pay the price all morning. The moisturizer eb uses is not moisturizer I can use because, alas, it has a very minute amount of lavendar in it. I say very minute because given the sniff test, I thought it was safe. It isn't. So now I am enjoying the tingly sensation on my minimally moisturized face. If you have ever had a chemical peel or intense facial, you know what I mean.
My eyebrows, the edges of my lips, the edge of my chin, and along my hairline on my forehead are all atingle. I know from previous similar experience that washing my face again, unless I was to fully jump into the shower for a thorough dousing, would only make it worse. I sort of have to just ride out the storm on the rare occasion this happens. Perhaps this time, the action will take hold in my memory in such a way that I don't readily forget such things again. I am just glad I used it so sparingly.
What sounds good for lunch?
Thursday, November 20, 2008
$18.61
Can you believe it? I almost fell over from the shock. Eighteen Dollars and sixty-one cents. I wanted to go inside and pay in cash. I was on E on the way to work and before getting into the loooooong Starbucks line, I stopped for gas. I still can't believe I filled my tank for under twenty bucks. 10,955 gallons at $1.69 per. If I had a gas card it would have been $1.54.
Amazing.
Last week, we spent 5 days visiting my mom in upstate NY. I packed socks. I wore them nearly every day. It was bloody cold. While we saw some remnants of snow on the ground here and there while driving around and the upper elevations were all snow covered, it actually snowed (flurries mostly) our last two days there and they got a few inches once we were safely back in Houston.
The trip itself went better than expected, and mom seems to be doing well. She is still in denial about how much crap she needs vs should be thrown away, but we're working on that. We managed to remove seven boxes of vintage cameras and accessories which we shipped home. There's umm...more...camera...crap...
I got home and it suddenly occurred to me that next Thursday is Thanksgiving. Surely there are a few more weeks? I need to get the grocery list up and running so I am not at the store next Wednesday.
We have been busy bees and it looks as if it isn't about to let up any time soon. Last night we had a girl's night salon, as in some of our peeps came over for hair cuts. That was fun. Coming up is getting some knits ready for an artists' sale this weekend, a day with the nephews, some artisan market days, holiday parties...oh, and we have a tree to put up somewhere along the way.
I better get to knitting.
Amazing.
Last week, we spent 5 days visiting my mom in upstate NY. I packed socks. I wore them nearly every day. It was bloody cold. While we saw some remnants of snow on the ground here and there while driving around and the upper elevations were all snow covered, it actually snowed (flurries mostly) our last two days there and they got a few inches once we were safely back in Houston.
The trip itself went better than expected, and mom seems to be doing well. She is still in denial about how much crap she needs vs should be thrown away, but we're working on that. We managed to remove seven boxes of vintage cameras and accessories which we shipped home. There's umm...more...camera...crap...
I got home and it suddenly occurred to me that next Thursday is Thanksgiving. Surely there are a few more weeks? I need to get the grocery list up and running so I am not at the store next Wednesday.
We have been busy bees and it looks as if it isn't about to let up any time soon. Last night we had a girl's night salon, as in some of our peeps came over for hair cuts. That was fun. Coming up is getting some knits ready for an artists' sale this weekend, a day with the nephews, some artisan market days, holiday parties...oh, and we have a tree to put up somewhere along the way.
I better get to knitting.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Lost
Last year, eb and I had an addiction. It started out small enough with the purchase of Lost season one at Costco. We thought we might finally discover what all the noise was about this series. The fourth season was getting ready to air on tv at the time. We had no designs on catching up, we just thought we would mosy through season one and then move on to subsequent seasons.
I don't say addiction lightly. Before we reached the end of season one, a mere 5 or six days later, I had discovered that abc.com has the entire series available online to view at our own pace. Our pace was fast forward and before the month was out, we were caught up and anxious every Thursday as we waited for the new episode.
I didn't really care for the show as much when I had to wait a week for the next episode. I learned that my true addiction was tv on dvd, not the show itself, which is not to say I wasn't also addicted to the show, but I think the show is the lesser of the addictions.
Yesterday, during a decidedly slow day at work (in the middle of a decidedly slow week), I decided to revisit Lost from the beginning while filling out my time. with our new office set up, my desk has me facing the door, so my monitor isn't visible to anyone walking by. It's a good thing too, because I am hooked again.
Lost is compelling in a way that I am fortunate to not have any equally compelling work to do.
I don't say addiction lightly. Before we reached the end of season one, a mere 5 or six days later, I had discovered that abc.com has the entire series available online to view at our own pace. Our pace was fast forward and before the month was out, we were caught up and anxious every Thursday as we waited for the new episode.
I didn't really care for the show as much when I had to wait a week for the next episode. I learned that my true addiction was tv on dvd, not the show itself, which is not to say I wasn't also addicted to the show, but I think the show is the lesser of the addictions.
Yesterday, during a decidedly slow day at work (in the middle of a decidedly slow week), I decided to revisit Lost from the beginning while filling out my time. with our new office set up, my desk has me facing the door, so my monitor isn't visible to anyone walking by. It's a good thing too, because I am hooked again.
Lost is compelling in a way that I am fortunate to not have any equally compelling work to do.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Defining home
I have been reading solbeam for several years now and her insights to herself and the world usually have some form of resonnance. The following quote is from an entry where she is asked to define home.
"We human beings, both individually and cumulatively, will constantly be presented with the challenges and opportunities to evolve to our higher selves regardless of the continent upon which we happen to find ourselves born or standing. I need not cross the world on a jet engine to either solve the puzzles of the planet or recognize the mystery of life. But perhaps, like Santiago, we just have to make the physical journey to come to that same, mocking-with-good-humor-at-
our-humbling-expense, conclusion."
Take some time for yourself today and go get lost in her blog.
"We human beings, both individually and cumulatively, will constantly be presented with the challenges and opportunities to evolve to our higher selves regardless of the continent upon which we happen to find ourselves born or standing. I need not cross the world on a jet engine to either solve the puzzles of the planet or recognize the mystery of life. But perhaps, like Santiago, we just have to make the physical journey to come to that same, mocking-with-good-humor-at-
our-humbling-expense, conclusion."
Take some time for yourself today and go get lost in her blog.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Jack. Ass.
I slept in a wee bit this morning and made it to work at 9:30, so really, just a wee bit. When I have that sort of slow morning, rather than hit the manic *bux drive thru that is my norm, I head over to the *bux where Chef works. I get salutations of "Mom!" all around no matter who is working, and more often than not, I pick them up a little something for breakfast, though not today. Honestly, I just didn't think about it this morning.
As I was leaving, I threw my haul into the car and went to the trunk in search of a bag because they were out and I had a small purse so I couldn't just throw our lunch in there as it wouldn't fit. There was a tote bag in the trunk, so no worries.
While I was in the trunk, Jack arrived. The same Jack I refer to in the title of this post. He was driving a huge King Ranch dually. Huge. White. Truck. And, he parked it next to my itty bitty Civic. Crooked. So crooked that if the parking space lines were long enough to accomodate his monster truck in the first place, his rear axle would have been in my space, behind my car.
I got into my car at that point because I could tell I could maneuver around Jack. Most likely. As I started my car, Jack, in his nicely tailored suit and tie, jumped down from his mondo truck and saw the error of his ways. He then walked towars *bux, but he waited by the edge of the parking lot, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched.
Logically, I should have swung out away from his truck, behind me toward the left. This would have been in the same direction his crooked parking facilitated. His stopping and crossing his arms over his chest and watching, however, lowered my equanimity and I had a few choice words for Jack, so I artfully maneuvered my itty bitty Civic and backed out toward the right which landed me right between Jack and his monster truck.
Did I mention it had been raining this morning? Jack was standing in his lovely suit and tie, in his nice animal skin boots (I am pretty sure not faux)on the edge of the puddle. My backing out didn't splash him, but it did necessitate him haveing to do a little hop back to avoid the rippling puddle. As he did that, my window went down.
Jack...standing there with a stare of disbelief...
QM: (Delivered dripping with my best southern honey) You'd be better off worrying more about your own driving and learning how to properly park your truck.
Jack...standing there with a stare of disbelief...his jaw slightly askew...
Fucker.
Edited to add...
I forgot the most fun little twist. As I was giving Jack some qm glare, I pushed the button to roll up my window and at just that precise moment, the sky broke open. Jack, is all wet.
As I was leaving, I threw my haul into the car and went to the trunk in search of a bag because they were out and I had a small purse so I couldn't just throw our lunch in there as it wouldn't fit. There was a tote bag in the trunk, so no worries.
While I was in the trunk, Jack arrived. The same Jack I refer to in the title of this post. He was driving a huge King Ranch dually. Huge. White. Truck. And, he parked it next to my itty bitty Civic. Crooked. So crooked that if the parking space lines were long enough to accomodate his monster truck in the first place, his rear axle would have been in my space, behind my car.
I got into my car at that point because I could tell I could maneuver around Jack. Most likely. As I started my car, Jack, in his nicely tailored suit and tie, jumped down from his mondo truck and saw the error of his ways. He then walked towars *bux, but he waited by the edge of the parking lot, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched.
Logically, I should have swung out away from his truck, behind me toward the left. This would have been in the same direction his crooked parking facilitated. His stopping and crossing his arms over his chest and watching, however, lowered my equanimity and I had a few choice words for Jack, so I artfully maneuvered my itty bitty Civic and backed out toward the right which landed me right between Jack and his monster truck.
Did I mention it had been raining this morning? Jack was standing in his lovely suit and tie, in his nice animal skin boots (I am pretty sure not faux)on the edge of the puddle. My backing out didn't splash him, but it did necessitate him haveing to do a little hop back to avoid the rippling puddle. As he did that, my window went down.
Jack...standing there with a stare of disbelief...
QM: (Delivered dripping with my best southern honey) You'd be better off worrying more about your own driving and learning how to properly park your truck.
Jack...standing there with a stare of disbelief...his jaw slightly askew...
Fucker.
Edited to add...
I forgot the most fun little twist. As I was giving Jack some qm glare, I pushed the button to roll up my window and at just that precise moment, the sky broke open. Jack, is all wet.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Hanging...
I know everyone is just hanging on the edge of your seats...I had a nice few hours of my brain being free, spinning out of control...
While I appreciate this would be *just* right for me, it isn't quite the right time for the Universe to converge. I have filed the various wisdom(thanks, ladies!) away in the recesses of my brain, so when it is indeed time, they will spin to the front.
I think if our country wasn't facing dire economic straits, and oh, I don't know, there might be some liklihood of an SBA loan coming through, well things might have been different. It was fun while the spinning lasted.
I will try to do some more research and be better prepared should another such opportunity present itself. Frankly, I think I would be better off starting from scratch than inheriting this particular situation, so it's all good.
Time to knit!
While I appreciate this would be *just* right for me, it isn't quite the right time for the Universe to converge. I have filed the various wisdom(thanks, ladies!) away in the recesses of my brain, so when it is indeed time, they will spin to the front.
I think if our country wasn't facing dire economic straits, and oh, I don't know, there might be some liklihood of an SBA loan coming through, well things might have been different. It was fun while the spinning lasted.
I will try to do some more research and be better prepared should another such opportunity present itself. Frankly, I think I would be better off starting from scratch than inheriting this particular situation, so it's all good.
Time to knit!
Thursday, October 02, 2008
How does one actually take the leap?
Recently, eb and I were talking with a good friend about getting to a point in life when all you want to do is take a leap of faith and follow your bliss. Terri, the friend, has been actively working toward this for quite some time. EB and I work toward it in theory and in actuality too, but at a very slooooow pace.
Today, I learned that a small local yarn shop has to close. It is owned by a single mother and har kids are getting a little older and need more of her attention so she has to close and she would of course, rather sell, so if you are in a position to, make an offer...
I would love to make an offer. The shop is in a good location and breaks even but with the proper devotion and attention would surely do well. It is a fairly (in these trying times) safe investment. I have an overwhelming sense that this is the ideal bliss for me to follow. However, I can't even begin to consider the formulation of an offer. The fantasy would spin out of control in an instant and then the reality that it maybe could happen would cut too close.
If there are any readers needing a nice write off who would like to be my capital investment saviors, you know how to contact me. Time is of the essence.
Today, I learned that a small local yarn shop has to close. It is owned by a single mother and har kids are getting a little older and need more of her attention so she has to close and she would of course, rather sell, so if you are in a position to, make an offer...
I would love to make an offer. The shop is in a good location and breaks even but with the proper devotion and attention would surely do well. It is a fairly (in these trying times) safe investment. I have an overwhelming sense that this is the ideal bliss for me to follow. However, I can't even begin to consider the formulation of an offer. The fantasy would spin out of control in an instant and then the reality that it maybe could happen would cut too close.
If there are any readers needing a nice write off who would like to be my capital investment saviors, you know how to contact me. Time is of the essence.
Monday, September 29, 2008
How To Make Books
We went to B&N last night for a browse and cup-o-tea after dinner and I came across this gem. How To Make books: Fold, Cut & Stitch Sour Way to One-of-a-kind Books
by Esther K. Smith.
So naturally, this morning when I got to work, I had to make a book. And then another. I used my dad's images. I wish he was still here to see them, because honestly, the simple ingenuity of them is brilliant and right up his alley.
I took the first one, a Basic Instant Book, and signed it and mailed it off to my mother so she would have an author signed first edition.I think I will make copies to send to my dad's remaining siblings as they were around for the picture taking and are in some of the images I used. I think for theirs I might take a PDF in to Kinko's so it is a color copy as the covers are both color images.
Back to work...
by Esther K. Smith.
So naturally, this morning when I got to work, I had to make a book. And then another. I used my dad's images. I wish he was still here to see them, because honestly, the simple ingenuity of them is brilliant and right up his alley.
I took the first one, a Basic Instant Book, and signed it and mailed it off to my mother so she would have an author signed first edition.I think I will make copies to send to my dad's remaining siblings as they were around for the picture taking and are in some of the images I used. I think for theirs I might take a PDF in to Kinko's so it is a color copy as the covers are both color images.
Back to work...
Monday, September 22, 2008
Day 2
EB left yesterday morning for the Folio show in chicago. She was totally dreading it and hopefully by now, she has had a little fun. I hope she got to hook up with her peeps.
Long ago, in the early stages of our togetherness, eb had occasion to go away sans moi for a week or so if I remember correctly. At that time, I decreed that there shall be no seperations exceeding three nights. Three nights was okay, but the fourth night, I was miserable beyond reason. We have pretty well stuck to this tenet of our relationship and any time that it has been necessary to be apart longer, we have consciously reaffirmed that three nights should be the max. this really struck home for me when my dad died earlier this yearm and I went home for nine days.
In planning a trip to check up on my mom, ticket prices were inordinately high. EB was heard to volunteer..."Well, I can stay home..." Ummmm, no. Not happening. I don't care if we need to take out a second mortgage on the house, missy, you're going. I held out and we got cheap tickets, close to half what I was initially finding. The kicker is that we are going in November and I now need to hope against hope that we don't get snowed in.
It's highly likely that I could have gone on the current Chicago trip. The thing is, it would have required a little finagling and some second guessing of the bossman. I think it is better in the long run that we made no presumptions, but I would sure rather be there than here at the moment. At least with the bossman gone to the show, it's quiet in the office.
Long ago, in the early stages of our togetherness, eb had occasion to go away sans moi for a week or so if I remember correctly. At that time, I decreed that there shall be no seperations exceeding three nights. Three nights was okay, but the fourth night, I was miserable beyond reason. We have pretty well stuck to this tenet of our relationship and any time that it has been necessary to be apart longer, we have consciously reaffirmed that three nights should be the max. this really struck home for me when my dad died earlier this yearm and I went home for nine days.
In planning a trip to check up on my mom, ticket prices were inordinately high. EB was heard to volunteer..."Well, I can stay home..." Ummmm, no. Not happening. I don't care if we need to take out a second mortgage on the house, missy, you're going. I held out and we got cheap tickets, close to half what I was initially finding. The kicker is that we are going in November and I now need to hope against hope that we don't get snowed in.
It's highly likely that I could have gone on the current Chicago trip. The thing is, it would have required a little finagling and some second guessing of the bossman. I think it is better in the long run that we made no presumptions, but I would sure rather be there than here at the moment. At least with the bossman gone to the show, it's quiet in the office.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
O.M.G.
It's been a week. I suppose I should be thanking the Little Baby Jesus(tm) for Taco Bell and Starbucks. As you all might have heard, a hurricane ripped through these parts last week. It's been 5 days and still, nothing is open. Let me ammend that. None of our go-to places are open.
Of course, some of them might be by now and we have yet to check. Tonight we will brave disappointment and pay our second visit to Empire Cafe. On Sunday, our first visit, they simply were being lazy asses and not wanting to work. No, I'm kidding. We drove by hoping for Sunday breakfast featuring Huevos Verdes (I am sure eb can correct me here on the name of her usual eggs Benedict with spinach type dish, it escapes me) and Italian Toast. As we turned the corner, hopeful because the front door was propped open, we saw a rented pump out back so I guess maybe they took on a little water. We haven't been back to check and we could pick up the phone and call, but where is the spirit of adventure in that? Tonight we will hopefully do more than a drive by. Angel hair pasta with sundried tomatoes and garlic in a light lemon butter brew. With shrimp. It's calling my name.
After the Empire drive by on Sunday we tried various second choice places from our go-to list to no avail. No dice. We drove around for 2 hours and went home a little humbled by it, grateful that our damages were next to nil. We exclaimed a "Holy shit! Look!" or two as we drove over Allen Parkway and I -10 at Shepherd which were flooded nearly to the overpass we were driving on. Did we bring the camera? Oopsie.
We got home and by that point we were damn hungry. When weese heard we went looking for breakfast the day after the hurricane, she asked if we had run out of eggs. Did I feel like making eggs? No. We had one last box of Velveeta mac n cheese and some Cheddarwurst, so again, we had that. I think we have had that for a fairly disproportionate number of meals in the last week and it might be off the radar, at least for a month or so. It is a surviving guilty pleasure so there is no way I will say never again, but it has earned a rest off the menu.
On Monday morning, eb and I returned to work. Other than the boss, we were the only two to make it in on Monday. I think we could have credibly milked it, but after 4 days in the house with our two lovely man-sons, we really did have to go to work. I think there is such a thing as too much togetherness with man-sons. Hopefully they won't get too put out reading this because really, they are good boys, but when they are bored and stuck at home...
All in all, we lost power sometime after 2 am Sat and it was back by 2pm. Cable and internet followed by 4pm, though they have been spotty since. A lot of Houston is still without power and/or water, so we aren't really complaining.
Does having a son who works at Starbucks mean anything? No. not when they don't have a milk delivery. The location by work is open today, but the line this morning was insane. I just went at lunchtime, and for the first time in a week, eb and I have our iced chai lattes. Color us content.
PS...Since the storms, the temps have cooled which is nice. However, also since the storms, our office a/c, cold on normal days, is about 5-10 degrees cooler. I might need to bring some socks in to the office so my toes don't get frostbite.
Of course, some of them might be by now and we have yet to check. Tonight we will brave disappointment and pay our second visit to Empire Cafe. On Sunday, our first visit, they simply were being lazy asses and not wanting to work. No, I'm kidding. We drove by hoping for Sunday breakfast featuring Huevos Verdes (I am sure eb can correct me here on the name of her usual eggs Benedict with spinach type dish, it escapes me) and Italian Toast. As we turned the corner, hopeful because the front door was propped open, we saw a rented pump out back so I guess maybe they took on a little water. We haven't been back to check and we could pick up the phone and call, but where is the spirit of adventure in that? Tonight we will hopefully do more than a drive by. Angel hair pasta with sundried tomatoes and garlic in a light lemon butter brew. With shrimp. It's calling my name.
After the Empire drive by on Sunday we tried various second choice places from our go-to list to no avail. No dice. We drove around for 2 hours and went home a little humbled by it, grateful that our damages were next to nil. We exclaimed a "Holy shit! Look!" or two as we drove over Allen Parkway and I -10 at Shepherd which were flooded nearly to the overpass we were driving on. Did we bring the camera? Oopsie.
We got home and by that point we were damn hungry. When weese heard we went looking for breakfast the day after the hurricane, she asked if we had run out of eggs. Did I feel like making eggs? No. We had one last box of Velveeta mac n cheese and some Cheddarwurst, so again, we had that. I think we have had that for a fairly disproportionate number of meals in the last week and it might be off the radar, at least for a month or so. It is a surviving guilty pleasure so there is no way I will say never again, but it has earned a rest off the menu.
On Monday morning, eb and I returned to work. Other than the boss, we were the only two to make it in on Monday. I think we could have credibly milked it, but after 4 days in the house with our two lovely man-sons, we really did have to go to work. I think there is such a thing as too much togetherness with man-sons. Hopefully they won't get too put out reading this because really, they are good boys, but when they are bored and stuck at home...
All in all, we lost power sometime after 2 am Sat and it was back by 2pm. Cable and internet followed by 4pm, though they have been spotty since. A lot of Houston is still without power and/or water, so we aren't really complaining.
Does having a son who works at Starbucks mean anything? No. not when they don't have a milk delivery. The location by work is open today, but the line this morning was insane. I just went at lunchtime, and for the first time in a week, eb and I have our iced chai lattes. Color us content.
PS...Since the storms, the temps have cooled which is nice. However, also since the storms, our office a/c, cold on normal days, is about 5-10 degrees cooler. I might need to bring some socks in to the office so my toes don't get frostbite.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Must. Count. Needlles.
I think Percetta was making up for the fact that I did not go to accupuncture last week. Either that, or she was thinking in terms of birthday spankings. I mentioned the impending fete and she congratulated be, but honestly, all I did was put 44 on her brain.
When I first started accupuncture in March, 22 was the magic number and for the first month or so, I counted needles every time. I unconsciously stopped that obsession when after a visit or so I lost count, but today, for some reason, I found myself counting in a very soothing and meditative sort of way. I watched the Count from Sesame Street float by in my thoughts like a cloud passing as each needle was driven home.
Six months later and I have yet to eyeball any needles. Not in me. Not in the tray afterward, not in their sanitary trappings beforehand. I did see the box of needles today, but really, that's as visual as I need to get. Don't Want. To see them.
This week of birth celebration has brought gifties from afar in the mail. Ladies, I thank you all.
When I first started accupuncture in March, 22 was the magic number and for the first month or so, I counted needles every time. I unconsciously stopped that obsession when after a visit or so I lost count, but today, for some reason, I found myself counting in a very soothing and meditative sort of way. I watched the Count from Sesame Street float by in my thoughts like a cloud passing as each needle was driven home.
Six months later and I have yet to eyeball any needles. Not in me. Not in the tray afterward, not in their sanitary trappings beforehand. I did see the box of needles today, but really, that's as visual as I need to get. Don't Want. To see them.
This week of birth celebration has brought gifties from afar in the mail. Ladies, I thank you all.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Follow KL down the alley...
Kitty Litter tells the tale of why we can't be choosy with our vote in November. If I read/pay attention to nothing else, my vote is decided, even though it was already a foregone conclusion.
You know in 1997-8 it really wasn't much better. Sure there was a real women's clinic to go to, but there were picketers outside to be reckoned with. One of my coworkers was in need of services. She was 35, divorced, had a 7 yr old consciously-decided-upon only child. She was on birth control *and* used condoms religiously with her soon to be second husband.
The ordeal of making an appointment. The ordeal of the picketers. It fostered in me a sense that there is still so much work to be done. That my friend had no one else she could turn to or trust with her choice was beside the point. I think this was truly a lesson for me in not judging others, because there were judgements flying toward her from every other angle, no matter where I looked. It was definitely a few of the worst hours of my life, and I was just there for support and involved in such a periferal way. How do we advocate change? For now, telling these stories as a reminder of the progress we have made might have to do.
You know in 1997-8 it really wasn't much better. Sure there was a real women's clinic to go to, but there were picketers outside to be reckoned with. One of my coworkers was in need of services. She was 35, divorced, had a 7 yr old consciously-decided-upon only child. She was on birth control *and* used condoms religiously with her soon to be second husband.
The ordeal of making an appointment. The ordeal of the picketers. It fostered in me a sense that there is still so much work to be done. That my friend had no one else she could turn to or trust with her choice was beside the point. I think this was truly a lesson for me in not judging others, because there were judgements flying toward her from every other angle, no matter where I looked. It was definitely a few of the worst hours of my life, and I was just there for support and involved in such a periferal way. How do we advocate change? For now, telling these stories as a reminder of the progress we have made might have to do.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
I've done it now....
That's right. when I saw $218 dollars for the round trip flight, I went and did it. I have invited the wrath of winter upon us. I have never returned home in the winter since my escape in April of 1987. We have gone to visit some bloggers in CT in Feb, but never home...in November. I am hoping that since it is before Thanksgiving that some mercy will be involved and we won't end up snowbound. with my mother. Of course there has been snow on my birthday in those parts before (9/11).
I can't believe summer is basically gone and the holidays will soon be upon us. By that I guess I mean the summer months as it will be summer weather well into October, if not November. It feels like it is time to begin cooking again. Real cooking all the time. It is certainly a commitment I want to make to myself and to eb, but then life happens and I so often feel lazy about it. Maybe with summertime leaving us, it will more readily happen.
I think a key to it happening is getting the pantry reorganized and restocked in a more naturally functional way. It's a little skewed at current and we have been terribly lazy about the farmers' market. Maybe getting this trip booked will take one thing away from my addled brain in a way that cooking can come back. Maybe not. The intention will remain present and that's a step toward achievement.
It also seems like there is so much to be doing creatively, but again, the desire far exceeds actuality. I need to be writing more. Knitting more. Creating with Arnold's pics more.
Being lazy about it less. Time will tell. Maybe I need to assign days for certain creative pursuits. An idea, but not so sure it's a good one or one that will work for me.
I picked up my tin to make this year's retablo for the show at
the Lawndale. I have picked out the photo I will use and maybe even this weekend I might get started so I am not doing it days before the deadline like previous years. I like at least having made the picture decision already.
Good Friend Irene was scheduled to visit this weekend after some company meetings in Galveston. The hurricane pile up in the gulf cancelled her meetings and her trip has been postponed until the first weekend in October. I am being extremely conscious of wanting to pout and sulk and throw a tantrum worthy of my inner fouryear old and it is taking my every effort to not let her out. Maybe she needs some cotton candy. Or annother Nutty Bar. Yes, that might be a short term band-aid.
I hate it when maybe is the word most rampant in my brain.
I can't believe summer is basically gone and the holidays will soon be upon us. By that I guess I mean the summer months as it will be summer weather well into October, if not November. It feels like it is time to begin cooking again. Real cooking all the time. It is certainly a commitment I want to make to myself and to eb, but then life happens and I so often feel lazy about it. Maybe with summertime leaving us, it will more readily happen.
I think a key to it happening is getting the pantry reorganized and restocked in a more naturally functional way. It's a little skewed at current and we have been terribly lazy about the farmers' market. Maybe getting this trip booked will take one thing away from my addled brain in a way that cooking can come back. Maybe not. The intention will remain present and that's a step toward achievement.
It also seems like there is so much to be doing creatively, but again, the desire far exceeds actuality. I need to be writing more. Knitting more. Creating with Arnold's pics more.
Being lazy about it less. Time will tell. Maybe I need to assign days for certain creative pursuits. An idea, but not so sure it's a good one or one that will work for me.
I picked up my tin to make this year's retablo for the show at
the Lawndale. I have picked out the photo I will use and maybe even this weekend I might get started so I am not doing it days before the deadline like previous years. I like at least having made the picture decision already.
Good Friend Irene was scheduled to visit this weekend after some company meetings in Galveston. The hurricane pile up in the gulf cancelled her meetings and her trip has been postponed until the first weekend in October. I am being extremely conscious of wanting to pout and sulk and throw a tantrum worthy of my inner fouryear old and it is taking my every effort to not let her out. Maybe she needs some cotton candy. Or annother Nutty Bar. Yes, that might be a short term band-aid.
I hate it when maybe is the word most rampant in my brain.
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