Holiday MEME

While following up with fellow bloggers this week I found an appropriately festive HOLIDAY MEME over at "Can You Hear Me Now?" Now, my grandparents are Mr. & Mrs Claus, so I'm game for anything Christmas-y, and this has gotten me in the mood to dig out the tree & ornaments. I know, it's terrible that I have an artificial tree (not FAKE mind you, but artificial). But living where I live, real trees are too expensive to buy and due to the dry weather they're usually dead within a week. Better to go with the non explosive beautifully decorated artificial tree than the kindling with pretty lights I would end up with.

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
Definitely hot chocolate-with lots of whipped cream.. Don't care for egg nog. Tried Starbucks Egg Nog latte. Thought I liked it until about the 5th sip. Nope. Don't like it. Starbucks peppermint mocha is my absolute favorite. I order it all year long.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?
He wraps them in his own special paper and puts them under the tree on Christmas Eve after Lovey has gone to sleep.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
This is a dilema at my house. I love colored lights, as does Lovey. Chas doesn't have much of opinion on it. But, I also really like the simplicity of white lights on the house. So, I never know what we're going to do until it's done. I think I'm going to do big fat colored lights this year though. My tree is mostly mini white lights, but I do weave a few big purple lights throughout. Looks much better than it sounds.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No mistletoe for me. I have pets that will jump or climb anything to get to a plant. Mistletoe is poisonous so, not a good thing for us.

5. When do you put up your decorations?
My Christmas tradition is Dec. 7th. It's my Sissy's birthday and when we were little, my mom always put up the tree on her birthday, or very close to it. If it didn't go up on her birthday, we at least went to pick it out on that day.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
That's a hard one. There are so many things my grammy makes for the holidays that we eat all year. I'll have to say 24 hour salad. The funny part of it is that it's never made 24 hours in advance. It's a very very 40's-50's dish with marshmallows and fruit cocktail. My Grammy & I are really the only ones that eat it, but I do love it and only have it twice a year.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child?
I don't think I have just one. Christmas was always very special in my family. My grandparents (mostly my Grammy) go all out at Christmas with a tree (or two) in every room. Each with it's own theme. No one can decorate a tree as beautifully as Grammy. She could have done it professionally. As a child it was magical. Even when we were really little and she only had a few trees, I loved helping her get out the boxes and putting up the all of the decorations. To me then and now, my grandparents are Mr & Mrs Claus.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I think I was probably in 4th grade or so and my mom had one of the few moments when she was a really good mom. She explained the whole thing to me in a beautiful way that I still hold with me. I tear up thinking about it.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
You bet! Every year since…well, FOREVER…we open a gift. It's always pajamas, and they're always matching. We we were little they were exactly the same, and usually home made. As we grew up my Grammy stopped for a few years. Sissy and I quickly started up the tradition again and began buying them ourselves. Now we all take turns everyone gets a set from baby Monkey all the way up to Grammy & Gramps.

10. What kind of decorations are on your Christmas Tree?
I have all blue, green, lavender & silver ornaments on my tree. Some are vintage, but not all. I use a blue velvet tree skirt that I found at Target a million years ago and love. Lovey has a tree in his room with multi colored lights and the crocheted ornaments my great grandma made. Some of her green ones make their way onto the big tree too.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
Being that I live in Southern California, I'm gonna say LOVE IT. Mostly because I don't have to live and drive in it. I can't stand a hot Christmas and that's likely what we'll have this year. It was 90 the week before Thanksgiving.

12. Can you Ice Skate?
I'm no Michelle Kwan but I can enjoy my self skating around the rink. It was a favorite pastime of mine when visiting my dad over Christmas.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
I don't think I have one. I do remember getting my "beach cruiser" bike one Christmas. It was in the 80's, the temperature was in the 90's, but we still wore our leg warmers, knickers & sweaters out riding bikes that day. There's a picture of that outfit and the bikes somewhere.

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you?
Honestly, since my family left California, the holidays are hard. I really miss the magic my grandparents create at their home, and not being with my sister, well, let's just say I'm still not used to it. But, traditions are very important to me with or without all of my loved ones. I work hard at keeping my favorite traditions going and creating new ones. I don't get a lot of support for it now, but I know that one day, when Lovey is an adult, he will appreciate it and look forward to those traditions.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
My absolute favorite is my apple pecan cheesecake. It's so incredibly good.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
When Lovey was little, I read to him all the time. I read to him long past when he was able to read for himself. On Christmas Eve, we always pulled out our favorite Christmas stories and read them by the light of the Christmas tree. I'm quite gifted at this, if I do say so myself. At one point I think we had about 6 books to read. I still read How the Grinch Stole Christmas & The Polar Express just not aloud, but that day will come again.

17. What tops your tree?
I have an antique blue blown glass tree topper that used to sit atop one of my Grammy's trees. It has a broken tip, but other than that it's beautiful.

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
Giving. Simply giving.

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?
There are so many! Little Drummer Boy-sung by a children's choir. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas-James Taylor. Little Drummer Boy/Peace On Earth-David Bowie & Bing Crosby. Silver Bells-Andy Williams. The list goes on and on.

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yummy?
Both. Yummy at first, then it just goes on too long. I do like the Starburst candy canes though..not minty. They're fruity & colorful.

Goodnight Gracie

Hello! I've been away for a while now. Not for lack of wanting to post, but really for a lack of anything interesting to say. Then when I had something to say..I couldn't get to my computer.

I am a klutz. This is a fact in my family. We breath. We eat. Shell falls. When I was little my grandparents bought a shirt for me that said "This end up" with an arrow pointing up. My grandfather, ever the comedian, told me it was to remind me which way was up. I have a permanent bump in the top of my forehead from the many many times I fell on my head as a child. At my grandparents house in California, that I loved like another member of the family, there were only two stairs. Two. Not a flight of stairs, not an upstairs downstairs, just two steps down from the dinette to the living room. (Yes..It ended up being the dining room but to me, it will always be the living room. That's another story). Anyway. From the time I learned to walk to the day my grandparents moved to Idaho about 5 years ago, I could not walk up or down those stairs without falling or tripping. Even with the hand rail. I simply am not graceful.

(Long story getting longer). As an adult, I fall much less often than as a child, when it was a daily, almost hourly occurrence. I've gotten it down to no more than once a year. Amazingly I have never seriously injured myself in all of these falls. Sure, I've had sprained ankles and countless bumps & bruises, but nothing major. Nothing that caused a trip to the hospital or crutches. Until now that is.

On Friday of last week, just walking to the corner for some Chinese takeout at work. I stepped up over a curb and fell. Hard. The curb was not hidden, I knew it was there. It wasn't cracked or high, there was nothing unusual or troublesome about this curb. I just didn't step right. I turned my ankle, almost stopped myself from falling, then down I went. Now, I've done this before. Twisted ankles are not unusual for me. But right away I knew that this was no ordinary twisted ankle. I looked down at my foot and it was turned inward, like a backwards L. Fabulous. The fire department is directly across the street and they arrived within minutes. I was thoroughly embarrassed but also in terrible pain. So bad that I couldn't cry. I cry so very easily -this says something. The very handsome fireman (his being handsome only added to my shame) that helped me up and into a chair said an ambulance was on the way. NO WAY! NOT GOING TO THE HOSPITAL IN AN AMBULANCE! NO! He reluctantly agreed when I said my husband would pick me up. As we waited for him to arrive a crowd gathered. Okay, not a crowd, but at least 3 other people from work, three other fireman, and a chiropractor that came out to say, "Oh yeah, it's broken." Then left. Thanks. My husband arrived, helped my into the car and we drove away. No longer feeling embarrassed by the cute fireman gathering around me I started to cry. Serious, I am in terrible pain, please drive more smoothly tears. We finally arrived at the hospital and the pain just got worse. In triage as I was hooked up to the blood pressure and heart monitor I could hear my heart beat faster as a wave of pain spread across my ankle.

The hospital we went to is quite familiar to me. I was born there. My son was born there. My grandfather had been there so often most nurses knew him by name. Never, in all my visits there have I received such quick and attentive care. I must have looked pretty bad. After a pain pill, when I was no longer breathless with agony, I started to think, I'm just being a baby. I didn't need to come here, I should just go home & suck it up! All that falling I did as a child have given me that type of attitude to hurting myself. Then the PA walked in and said, "Looks like you chipped the bone." Great. Nice. I what?! They put me in a temporary splint, said don't walk on it, gave me some crutches and a referral to an orthopedist and sent me on my way.

Here I am, 6 days later. I have a chipped ankle bone along with torn ligaments all across my foot and ankle. My leg is blue, yellow & purple from mid calf to the tips of my toes, including the bottom of my foot. I am forced to wear a walking boot that while easier than crutches is hot and extremely uncomfortable. It's my right foot so I can't drive. I have to endure this for at least 3 weeks when I go back to the doctor. I've already been told it will be 6-8 weeks before everything is healed, but that it will be 3-5 MONTHS before I feel normal. Thank goodness for internet shopping-Christmas will be saved. I still have pain when I move a fraction in the wrong direction but mostly I just feel stupid.

Today I leave for a weekend with my family in Idaho. Flying and navigating the airport should be interesting, but I'll have my neighbor, Irish, along for the ride-she'll be huge help to me. I will be loved and taken care of there. A few days of pampering to take away the sting of embarrassment. I'd like to say I've learned my lesson and will move slower, more carefully to avoid accidents such as this in the future. But, I know that just wouldn't be true. They don't call me Grace for nothin'.

Saturday night photo...

Finally..I was able to upload this picture from our dinner out on Saturday night. Not a very good picture of me, but a good one of Chas (before shaving off his beard & mustache).

The other pictures are even worse so I won't be sharing them. And that's that.

Lovey's look

I was talking on the phone to my sister earlier this evening. (Not unusal.) Lovey was giving her such a LOOK for keeping me busy and away from proof-reading his spooky story that is due tomorrow. This is it. There was a lot of dancing around associated with the look. Not an very flattering photo, I know, but funny none the less.

I woke up with a stranger!

Ohmygosh! This morning I woke up to a stranger. For over 20 years my husband Chas has had a mustache. I've never NEVER seen him without one. Other than in pictures of course. I've known him for 14 years and he's had a beard for most of that time. For the last year or so, my neighbor Irish & I have been teasing, gently prodding him into shaving it off. Just to see what he looked like. He always laughed and said no. I truly never believed he would do it. But this morning, while I lay sleeping. He did.

I was deep asleep. I felt him kiss my cheek but was so asleep it just barely woke me. Then I heard him say "You didn't notice anything different?"

"What?" I said, somewhat grogily. I opened my eyes and this is what I saw...

I was shocked I tell you. Shocked! I cannot believe how different he looks with out the facial hair. He looks like his brother Flash! It's a about 2 hours later and I'm still shocked by it. Both that he actually did it, and how he looks. He's had the mustache so very long that his upper lip is white from lack of exposure to the sunlight. Now that's funny. He walked into our neighborhood Starbucks this morning and the girls behind the counter (who know him well, he's there every day) couldn't believe their eyes. Lovey spent the night at a friends house. He is going to flip out when he sees his dad! For a man who likes to be the center of attention, he sure has a full week ahead of himself.

Now, onto the events of last evening, the country club dinner following the 3 day golf tournament Chas participated in. Even after wonderful suggestions to which dress I should wear to this "classy casual" event, I choose to go a different route. Mostly because both dresses presented a clea*age problem. The V neck line dipped a wee bit further than I'm comfortable with and adding a lacy camisole underneath to help the problem, just didn't look right with either dress. So, being that casual was part of the dress code for the night, I wore a typical work outfit for me. Gray flannel dress capries, a sheer black crinkle blouse with black camisole underneath & my favorite stack heeled mary janes. I was comfortable and looked nice. We had Irish take some pictures but they really didn't turn out all that well. My husband & I felt that I looked a lot better in person than the photos showed. My hair was curled & shiny, my make-up was just right, and this is something I rarely say, I thought I looked pretty. (I've tried about 4 times now to upload a picture, blogger says it's done, but it never appears.)

It was a beautiful evening last night. Just the right temperature, and a breath taking harvest moon. Our host, the man that invited Chas to play the tournament with him, didn't show up to dinner so we really didn't know anyone. Chas knew a few people, but just from playing golf with them. So we ate dinner, had some dessert and went home. Not a very exciting evening, but that's alright.

Word meaning MEME

In response to kpjara at Can You Hear Me Now....here are my words-what they mean to me. I'm answering with the first thought that comes to mind...


MIRACLE: Children. All of them. Especially my own 4. I include my Lovey with my niece & nephews since they are so very close to my heart. Their birth. Their lives. The beautiful things that come from their hearts and touch mine. They are angels and a blessing to me.

DANGEROUS: Risk. Chance. Change. Doing something where you don't know the outcome. Life-the twists & turns of it. But danger can be good. Taking a risk can be good. Going on quest I suppose could be dangerous depending on what kind of quest it was. A quest for a better life. Now that's dangerous.

OBEDIENT: Doing what I'm told to do. I especially think of my sister, simply because I have heard her say countless times "You need to obey Mama". I really don't like the word. I don't like that I have to be obedient. I want to make my own way. I'm pretty sure I was being disobedient when I balked at the first set of words provided by the wonderful & patient kpjara, the QUEEN OF BLOGDOM.

IMAGINE: Beauty. Dreams. Hope. Creativity. I have a pretty vibrant imagination. I creative, though I don't use it enough. My imagination knows no bounds. It is one of my greatest traits. After all, everything we do, everything tool or book...everything we use in life was first imagined by someone.

How's that for a response. Used ALL of the new AND old words.

My stalker

I'm being stalked.

Everywhere I go.

Everywhere I turn, my stalker is there.

In the kitchen.

In my bedroom.

Even in my bathroom.

I can't get a moments peace.

If I'm crocheting, it's really bad.

When I'm cooking it's unbearable.

No matter where I look .....



This is what I see.....

Classy casual?

I have to go to a dinner party at a country club on Saturday night. I say have to because I really don't have a choice. I know, I should try to be excited about it since my husband is, but really, my hearts not in it. He's in a golf tournament Thursday through Saturday. He was invited by a good customer of his, who also happens to be a pretty fun guy. If only the party weren't at a country club of all places. Most of the people there will be around my parents age. It's one of the few times when the 11 year age difference between my husband and I becomes uncomfortable. He'll be one of the younger men in the room, and I'm usually the age of most of their daughters. There's pressure at these things to be the perfect stepford like wife, which I most definitely am not.

The invitation to the dinner, where cocktails don't start until 7:30 mind you, says it is "Classy Casual". What the heck does that mean?! Does my husband still need to wear a tie? It's easy for him, that's the biggest decision he'll have to make. What will I wear? Would pants and a nice blouse be out of the question? Or do I have to wear a skirt or dress? I'm afraid of being somewhere on the too classy or too casual end of things. Last time we attended this dinner the women were wearing everything between business suits and fancy shmancy cocktail, semi formal, dresses. But that time there were no specifications on the invitation about what to wear. I wore a black sheath dress and crocheted sweater yet felt under dressed. Too plain.

Here are two dresses I'm thinking of wearing....

This one is cotton, but that soft, flowing cotton. Not stiff at all. Not lined so no poof. Really think this may be too casual thought and not enough class

This one is actually black with white trim. Much prettier that way. It's cotton & fully lined so the skirt does "poof" a bit like in the picture. I like it but is it too summery? Is it too casual? I'm so confused.


I'm a jeans kind of girl. My husband & I aren't "dressed up". We like it simple. He in shorts & a golf shirt. I'm usually in jeans and some cute top or sweater. Going to things like this is stressful for me. I've never been confident enough in my appearance to think I look great. Even on those times when I probably have. Ugh.

Some photos to share.

Not much to say. Just wanted to post some pictures taken with my new camera. I haven't figured out all of the bells & whistles yet so they aren't great. But..I thought I'd share anyway.


This is my cat Brother. I'm really not a crazy cat lady I just thought this picture turned out really good. His eyes look a little weird, but I like it. He's a beautiful cat. He really is that shiny. He's named Brother because when we adopted him, we also adopted his sister. Lovey, who was only 5 at the time, named them Brother & Sister.

Lovey & I played hookey on Friday and went to Disneyland. We have season passes so it's easy to just go without spending an arm & a leg. We had a really good time. It wasn't very crowded. He was tired of my taking pictures of him by this point so I took a "self portrait" instead. He's trying to make a weird face. Anything to not smile in a picture. I usually really really dislike pictures of myself, but this one isn't so bad. . Although the hair is looking a bit strange. That's what happens after going on Splash Mountain, and sitting in the front. We were both a little soggy & frizzy for the rest of the day.

And here's my lovey. This was just about the last picture I got out of him for the day. He was glad we went and so was I. We always have fun when we go to Disneyland just the two of us. We rode almost all of our favorite rides and just, hung out together.

This picture is actually from August, but I like it and it shows how long his hair was before I finally convinced him to cut it off. It wasn't being taken care of the way it should be, so he didn't have much of a choice. This was just another day where he and I were being goofy. Took about 6 pictures before I could get him to smile at all.

Well, that's about it. Like I said, nothing much to say. Just wanted to share some pictures since I haven't in quite a while. Ta for now.

Today I met an angel.

This morning I was late for work because I spent two minutes with an angel. A few posts ago you might remember me talking about rushing past people and thinking ”What if that was an angle?”.

Today, I left the house a bit unhappy. Partly because I have to apologize for being selfish. Something I don’t relish doing. Especially to someone who tends to be pretty selfish most of the time. I was sad the same old dream was crushed again by circumstance and my in inability to just do what I want to do. As I drove to work I talked to God. I do this a lot. In the quiet moments of my day. I have a very short drive to work so this wasn’t a long conversation. I was so immersed in my thoughts, so early on that I turned left instead of right. This doesn’t take me in the wrong direction, just away from the Starbucks I would normally head to. My wrong turn led me to a rarely visited coffee house. Though closer to work, it’s usually too busy so I just choose not to go there. As I walk in, an older man asked me for change for some coffee. In my normal, shamefully 2nd nature, LA way, I apologized and said I didn’t have any. In truth I did. I had a $20 bill and a couple of ones. The second it came out of my mouth I was embarrassed and ashamed. I decided I would buy my coffee with the $20 then take him $5. As I turned to walk out of the building I ran into my sister in law J. I never run into her anywhere. She doesn’t live in the same town, or work anywhere near this Starbucks. At first I was pleased to see her, she always seems to cheer me. But in my head I was afraid this man would disappear before I had the chance to do the right thing. As we left, I quickly turned to where the man had been. I was so relieved to see he was still standing there. I quickly walked to him and gave him the $5.

He thanked me. He almost cried. I almost cried. He just started to talk to me. His wife of cancer. They had been married for 45 years. He was 68 and embarrassed, shamed to be asking for money. He used to have a great job, but when he lost his wife he had a nervous breakdown. Here he was on a Thursday morning walking to work because his truck brown down and he doesn’t have money to tow it home. “Tomorrow’s pay day” he said. But there was no hope there. He talked of not wanting to get up in the morning. I smiled, to offer what encouragement I could. I told him you have to get up everyday. You have to find one thing worth doing it for. It took all of my will to not cry for this kind man. I wanted to hug him. But there is still enough of the LA in me that I knew that wouldn’t. We each said “God bless you” in parting.

This was an Angel in passing. What have I got to be so sad about?! I have so much to be thankful for. This morning I asked God for direction and he gave it to me.

Long Distance Phone Calls & Rambling Converstaions.

You know those Master Card commercials? The ones where they show a scene, name a price and so on and so on until they end with "Priceless"? Well that about sums up most of my conversations with my sister.

Our long distance bill is, needless to say, high. I do not have a single person in my immediate family that lives in the same state. Not one. Even my husbands family, save one sister, all live out of the area. But who cares! I have to talk to my sister.

Tonight was one of those calls full of everything and nothing. In 20 short minutes we squeezed in complete nutty-ness, serious talk about my nephews and their special needs, not to mention my sons. We discussed the beauty of her children and the rapid growing up of mine. We talked about dinner. Several times.

You see, when calling my sisters house, it is impossible to have a simple, uninterrupted conversation. There is always one little one or another asking a question, doing something cute, or getting in trouble. There have been countless conversations, serious ones, interrupted mid sentence, mid word with "Mr Magoo Middle Name Last Name I said NO!" "Monkey get down from there!" "Missie not now I'm on the phone with Tantie!" "Have an M&M/Donut/Cookie/Granola bar".

This is not a complaint. I love these moments. They make me feel like I'm there. There are times when she's talking away to me and I'm just listening to the little voices in the background. And those moments when one of them wants to talk to me? Well, I just melt right through the phone.

Tonight was one of the typical nights. The differences in our lifestyles was quite evident. She in the midst of making dinner for 3 hungry sprites. Me, just getting home from a long day in the cubicle and rushing to get ready to start my 2nd job. With all of the distractions she must have asked me 3 times what I was making for dinner after we had a somewhat funny discussion about what I was making already. Finally I make a joke about it and what came out of her was "Ahhh Sooo". That did it. I laughed so I hard I ended up drooling. Gross I know, but really I was over-multi tasking and something had to let loose. I had the small cordless phone (the size of a cell phone-what was I thinking when I bought that thing!) crooked between my shoulder and ear slipping with each small movement, talking away, putting my way too long hair into a pony tail, taking off my long pants worn to work, digging through the clean laundry looking for a clean pair of shorts because as I mentioned yesterday the Santa Ana's are here making for a very warm evening and my son has shut all of the windows in the house because he is somehow, impossibly cold, and finally pulling them on, then pulling them up because they are old an too big, but perfect. Now I'm sweating too because I'm hot and trying to balance too many things (not to mention putting together the longest run on sentence EVER). Like I said, something had to give. Finally I said "Someday we are going to have a nice civilized conversation on the phone, just you and me". No one between the ages of 12 & 3 would be allowed to speak, look at or be in the same room. No men between 38 (I think that's how old G is) and 44 either. Just me and my lovely sister. Having a polite conversation. But really, what fun would that be. Not much.

So we get into a conversation about a person we know (okay..kim..you) and she's telling me about some similarities they share. Then we get into personalities and how I'm emotional. Not necessarily in a bad way. I've come a long way in the last few years. They're just easily accessible. Like while watching Greys Anatomy the other night. I have seen Season 2. I know how it ends. I have it on DVD. I know how it ends. I've seen the ending more than 4 or 5 times. I KNOW how it ends. But every time, never fails. I cry. No, not cry. I weep! So while watching the season premier the other night, every time Izzie appears I start again. Can't control it. Just keep crying. Then getting irritated with my self because I'm crying and can't see what's happening. It's the same thing while on the phone with Idaho. I can jump between laughing so hard the before mentioned drooling incident happens, then I'm stressed & worried about something happening or not happening there. Then laughing again because she asked me AGAIN what I was making for dinner. Ahhh Sooo.

What am I going to make for dinner anyway?

I need a delete button for my brain.

So I was talking to my sister earlier and said something really funny. Something we agreed must be posted here. Of course now..several hours later, 7th grade science & a social studies lesson (with a little art history thrown in...no way public school is including that, but that’s another story.), dinner, cleaning the house, all that rot...I can’t remember what it was. It was good. Funny. Would have cause a lot of laughs. But where is it now? Either on the top shelf of my brain that I can’t reach, or worse, it’s fallen off the top, behind the book case itself, lost amongst the cobwebs and lyrics to Lionel Richie songs from the 80's that I somehow seem to remember all of the words to while walking though Ikea the other day. Now that’s a funny story.

I had the day off a couple of weeks ago (first day of 7th grade for Lovey to be exact). My neighbor Irish has been having a hard time lately so I called to her & invited her on a pointless excursion to Ikea...the great Swedish furniture store that can cause hours of decorating drifting. I live smack in between two different stores. Being that I live in Southern California, while they may be the same mile-wise in distance, they are vastly different time wise. That’s something only those of in the in the LA/Orange county area can really appreciate...the fact that it can take anywhere from 15 minutes to 2 hours to travel 11 miles. Just depends on the time of day and what direction your going.

So...we choose to go the one that would be closer time wise. Less traffic. Okay. I asked Irish to drive knowing that if we started talking I would inevitability miss the off ramp and end up hopelessly lost or long past where we were supposed to be. Wouldn’t you know it, we started talking away and completely missed the off ramp. Drove 3 cities away from where we were supposed to be. Took an hour & a half to get to a store 11 miles from my house. (It only took us 20 minutes to get home by the way). Good thing we didn’t have anything or anyone waiting for us. We laughed, made the best of it and finally made it there. We strolled around, picked up a few things. Gained a million ideas and had a lot of fun. As we wandered the marketplace...the dangerous downstairs cavern with all of the good stuff. Just as dangerous as Target I tell ya’. She went to the left, I went to right, individually dreaming of what we could do with our humble abodes (mine being WAY more humble than hers). A Lionel Richie, 1980's really cheesy song comes on over their PA system. Can’t remember the name something about dancing "Ay Carumba" being one of the lines. NOT a good song. But there I am, singing along, even putting a little dance in my step. Not realizing what I’m doing of course. Then it hits me. WHAT AM I DOING? WHY DO I KNOW THE WORDS TO THIS SONG? WHY CAN I PICTURE THE MUSIC VIDEO? Surely there are more important things for me to remember! Why this song? I turn to Irish, laughing at myself and confessed.

"I’m singing the song." I said shamefully.

"Me too." Irish laughs. "I just wasn’t going to tell you." At least I wasn’t alone.

Here’s my point. We should have some sort of delete button for our brains. Not to be used to remove the painful or traumatic memories or anything like that. I think we need those, they make us who we are and remind us of where we’ve been and what we’ve overcome. No, I think we need it for the useless STUFF. The miscellaneous useless knowledge that takes up too much room so you can’t remember the important things, like you sisters anniversary (sorry Sissy), or how many cups are in a pint.

Why do I need to know all the words to a song I didn’t even like when it first came out? Why do I need to remember what I was wearing to some random high school day. For instance I can still remember what I was wearing the day my picture was taken for the senior poll. Not because the picture was in the yearbook. I haven’t looked at that in years. I simply REMEMBER. I also remember that I woke up late that day. Why? Why do I remember pointless conversations I had with people whose names I can’t remember? I should be able to choose to hit the delete button. This information does me no good. Except. It does. A little bit. Like when playing trivial pursuit or when watching Jeopardy. No one will play games like Cranium (the name of which I could not remember just now, and had to ask my son to remind me of..this is what I’m talking about) with us anymore. Why? Because between my husband and I we have so much useless knowledge taking up space in our brains that we always win. No bragging her, just a simple fact. My sister can attest to this.

Just think of how smart we could all be if we could empty the trash bin in our brains of all clutter. Oh if wishes were horses.....

1st day of 7th Grade for Lovey

I just read my sisters last few posts and it confirmed why I don't do this more often. She has such an amazing story to tell and a beautiful way of telling it. I have much less excitement in my life. So the pauses between my stories get longer and longer. Maybe now that Summer is over, I'll have more to say. That's not to imply that I have nothing to say...I always do. But often consider, is this the right forum for all my thoughts? Hmm.

Today was my Lovey's 1st day of 7th grade. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! He is so grown up. He's that age where he almost doesn't need my anymore. Oh..I know he does, but he's old enough to act like he doesn't need me, but not old enough to realize that it's really okay to still need your mom. He woke up early today, with no prodding from me or his Dad. He set his alarm clock on his own last night. Didn't even hit the snooze button when it went off, blaring some song I don't know. (I hit it at least 5 or 6 times everyday, who gets out of bed right away? How is that even possible?). He got dressed without a word from me, made breakfast..even brushed his hair without being asked. Now, this may not seem like much, but for Lovey...it's huge. He is an "only child" (really don't like that phrase, need to come up with something else) and relies very heavily on me to do things for him. I suppose because he is my only one, I don't mind doing for him. Don't get me wrong, the boy is expected to do for himself and take care of himself, and usually does. But the big things, like remembering to set the alarm clock etc., for that he relies on me to remind him. Then gets irritated with me when I do. But if I don't remind him, somehow I'm still the bad guy. Ahh, the joys of pre-teendom. But I digress...

As I drove my Lovey to school this morning (it's a very short trip, but too long and too up hill to tackle so early in the morning) it was impossible not to think of his first day of Kindergarten. It wasn't as huge and momentous day as it is for some children. Simply because, sadly, I have always had to work outside the home and Lovey started going to day care before he was 1. So the routine of get up, get ready, get going was new to him. He had attended a wonderful preschool just a block from our home that was structured very much like Kindergarten so the routine was even normal for him. I was very excited. His teacher Ms. B still holds a very special place in our hearts and has been the very best teacher Lovey has ever had. He was so little. Still with chubby cheeks. His serious blue eyes taking it all in. I remember him not wanting to let go of my hand for a while, then after taking it all in, studying it all, he let go and took his place on the carpet. Still keeping an eye on me (and my beautiful sister, who at this point, was almost interchangeable with me in his eyes).

Each year would be the same, I would walk him to class, stay with him for a little while and then go, after I was sure he was comfortable. Somewhere around 4th grade, he didn't want me to stay anymore. He never asked me not to, but we, as always, understood each other. Sometime last year, it became impossible for him to give me a kiss or hug goodbye. I might still get the occassional "I love you" but physical contact? Are you crazy? Out of the question. Today, when I dropped him off....I barely got a good bye. It made me a bit sad...but's really okay. I understand.

I know how my Lovey approaches situations, and how he acts when nervous or unsure. It's not different than that first day of Kindergarten. He becomes silent. He studies the situation and evaluates the risks before jumping in. He is cautious. A trait that makes his father a bit crazy. I know that before he feels comfortable with a situation that it's best not to talk to him or bother him. He deals with discipline and serious discussions the same. This is something I've only just accepted. While I always understood his approach to new situations, for some reason it took until this summer to realize he approaches just about everything that way. If he gets in trouble for something, he may get angry at first, something I attribute to having a mother with a similarly short fuse, and the hormonal imbalance of being 12. But when all is said and done, he will sit quietly for a while, then when he has fully processed it all, he will come to me with a hug or a joke..or something to let me know he gets it.

Lovey has had some emotional years and more than likely will have several more in the future. We will not always get along as well as we are right now. I'm not going to stop giving him hugs or encouraging him when he wants to hide or telling him how much I love him. This will undoubtedly drive him crazy on the outside, but I know on the inside it means something to him.

The other night, my husband and I were being, well to put it simply...a couple of dorks. Just being goofy. Lovey said "I think I must be adopted." We all laughed and my husband and I looked at him..."Son," my husband said "You might be able to deny you came from me, but look at your mother, you can't deny you belong to her." Then came the discussion of the same legs, the same feet and hands. The same eyes and nose. Other than the hair color we do look a lot a like. But really, it's so much more than that. We are so similar. I love him so very much that love is not a big enough word.

Today, when he comes home from school, he won't have much to say at first, but as the evening moves on I'll hear more and more about his day, his new teacher and old friends. It will come out slowly, as if testing the waters for our reactions. Then it will all come flooding out in one fast and furious now deep voiced wave. I can't wait.

Trying again.
Darn blogger. It was really good too. Lots of good thoughts about being good and kind. It's gone now though. Can't recreate it. (spell check is what caused my problem, so please excuse any misspelled words. I do not want to risk losing it all again.)

The ending was good though. "I will stop. I will breath. I will close my eyes and enjoy the blissful silence. I will listen. I will be the change I want to be in the world"

Isn't that what we should all be. Really, the point of what I lost was just that. I've been faced lately with people being less than they should be. Including my self. But that's hardly shocking. I am so much less than I could/should be. I need to be a better wifemothersistergrandaughterDAUGHTER. Especially that last one. What ever dissapointments I have in my parent I should rise above it. I just can't do it. Right now.

A church I've been thinking about going to has disappointed me in ways that is very sad. It is the wrong place for me. Just that I've thought about going to church is a big deal. I have a strong faith in God. That isn't it. Though I may not be what a lot of people that read my posts would consider a Christian, I do know, accept, believe in my heart that God loves me and will protect me. I don't have faith in the churches in my area. I had put off going to this particular church for a long time. The things I witnessed, or more to the point, have not witnessed have shown me that it's not the place for me. While I am willing to make change, I want to go somewhere that is warm and welcoming. The events of the past two weeks have shown me that this place is not.

Part of it is the location in which I live. Too much too fast too many. That's the problem here. Everything, everyone rushes by without taking time to listen. To watch for Gods messages. A thought that has been running in my head lately, especially when I have too have rushed by someone, is "what if that was one of Gods angels". What if I've just let an opportunity go by to help someone who needs it. Even if it's just a warm smile. Shouldn't we all go through our day like that? Thinking that everyone we meet in the day is an angel? Everyone we come across needs us in some small way?

But then, there are people that I know need me. I worry that I let them down. That I am not available enough to them, physically or emotionally. I pray for them. They are always in my thoughts. I can only hope that for now, that is enough. I am trying to change. To be the kind of person I want to be. For that I need time. I need to remind myself each day what I must become. I will stop. I will breath. I will close my eyes and enjoy the blissful silence. I will listen. I will be the change I want to see in the world.

well. i had a really good post going. BUT NOOOOOOO I lost it when I hit save!!!GRRRR. I'll try again tomorrow. Can't recreate it at this moment.

7-7's Meme

My sister is now exclusive. She tagged the 7 with 7-7's meme. That begs the question....who are these 7? Am I one of them? Well, I'm either being a rebel and answering them anyway or I'm just doing as I was told since I'm "in the 7" Here goes.

7 Books I Love:
Ok..listing only 7 is difficult because there are so many I really love.
1. The Time Travelers Wife by Audrey Niffeneger
2. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
3. East of Eden by John Steinbeck
4. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
5. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (the book is oooooh so much better than the movie and the movie is GREAT)
6. One Thousand White Women by Jim Fergus
7. Jane Eyre By Charlotte Bronte

7 Movies I Can Watch Over & Over
1. Any Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, & Dorothy Lamour Road Movie
2. The Princess Bride
3. Sleepless in Seattle
4. Gone with the Wind
5. High Society
6. 13 Going on 30 (totally a guilty pleasure & way deep into being a "chick flick")
7. Best In Show

7 Things I Say Often
1. Yes..at work. toooooooooo often. Through a grating smile.
2. What are you doing? (In a sometimes exasperated, sometimes frustrated, sometimes shocked way...always asking my son)
3. Can we move to Idaho now?
4. Ohmygosh (all one word or course)
5. I'll have a grande iced mocha please extra ice.
6. Goodbye boys, I love you (everyday when I leave for work)
7. Where are my keys?

7 Things I Love About My Spouse
So this one, right now, is a bit hard. But probably a good task to take on
1. He can be friends with anyone
2. He is steadfast and loyal
3. His intelligence.
4. How deeply blue his eyes are.
5. That he lets me do whatever I want, within reason, to the house without complaint
6. He loves his parents.
7. He loves my family...the important ones anyway.

7 Things I Cannot Do
There's something I can't no? No way. I can do ANYTHING. Okay, here's what I can't do right now, but will eventually be able to. I never give up.
1. Bake sugar cookies
2. Cartwheels
3. Move to Idaho (this WILL happen)
4. Operate a yo-yo (okay..I give on this one. Never gonna happen)
5. Cool off (my house is really hot right now and the fan just ain't cuttin' it, 'bought time to turn on the A.C.)
6. Frost a cake and have it look beautiful
7. Open a can of biscuits. You know..the doughy ones that come in can. I have tried EVERYTHING, including throwing the blasted container on the floor with no luck. My husband or Lovey can do it one swift tear of the package. I just can't seem to manage it.

7 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. Move to Idaho (sensing a trend?)
2. Go on an African safari
3. Go to Ireland
4. Learn to mountain climb
5. Watch my child, niece and nephews become healthy, happy adults
6. Take more art classes
7. Find peace with those that I still carry anger or hurt feelings towards

And that...is all.

A deep dark secret

I have a deep dark secret. I just don’t think I can hold it in any longer. I have to confess, get it out there in the open. That’s the first step to healing, right?

Here it is.

I’m ready.

Just have to say it out loud (or in the great blogdom).

Ready?

I am….


Just….


As much as ……

I’m really …..

Okay…I’ll just say it. I’m just as much of a perfectionist as my sister is. Sure, I love to tease her about it. Down right make fun of her sometimes. Like just a few weeks ago as she set the table for dinner. Using my grandmother’s old dishes that have a chicken in the middle. Every plate had to be turned the right ray so the chicken wasn’t upside down. She did this, not me. Just to mess with her brain, I turned the chicken around. It gave me a little joy to know that it was driving her crazy. And once…I found her and my tiny lovey, he couldn’t have been more than three, organizing his Legos by color!

But really, I’m not much different. As I played Rumikub with my husband the other night….all of the tiles were in the same color order. Number runs on the left, suit runs on the right. But that’s not all. My CD’s are alphabetized. My closet is organized by color. From dark to light, sleeveless to long sleeve. Short skirts to long pants. Sweaters too, stacked according to color. The list of my perfectionist- organizing ways goes on and on. I’m a “Monica” too. And to be honest, now that Lovey is 12 and has greatly increased the number of Legos in the house, I too have organized them by color.

Is there really anything wrong with this? It’s easy to work with things when they are organized. Easier to work out the thought process. Isn’t it? It’s not that I can’t be spontaneous or a rebel like my sister (http://timefortwittering.blogspot.com/). Who lists the things she is thankful for WITHOUT putting them in order (except for today that is, she just couldn’t help herself).

If you were to walk into my house, you would never know that I’m like this. There is the usual disarray that comes with living with a man and a boy. Not to mention two cats. I can accept their general sloppiness. I’ve whipped them into shape about as much as one woman can. When their manly ways get to be a bit too much for my structured, tidy way of thinking I can slip away in fantasy to my “White Couch World.”

This is a world with no cat hair on the furniture, no dirty smelly tennis shoes left right where they were taken off. Where I no longer answer to Mom or Miche or any of my other names. A place where I can sit in my big comfy overstuffed white chair and read a magazine. Where the book shelves are overflowing with wonderful stories waiting to be enjoyed (all organized by genre, size & author of course). Where there is a giant pantry filled with everything a girl could possibly want for making anything her heart desires. This too perfectly organized. All dry goods in glass jars with metal lids. Canned goods neatly stacked and arranged by food type. The spices all in alphabetical order. A kitchen where the silverware is lined up perfectly with nary a stray spoon in the fork slot. There is a giant porch with a hammock and porch swing where’s there’s always a frosty pitcher & glass of ice cold lemonade. The glass sitting on a coaster-no rings in this perfect world! A bedroom where the bed is always made. A bathroom where the mat is always dry, the towels always hung up and no toothpaste on the mirror. (How does that happen by the way? I don’t have that problem when I brush my teeth, so how do the boys?) A linen closet filled to the bursting with the softest, fluffiest towels and sheets and blankets (oh my). All neatly folded. All in their place. What a lovely dream.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the men I live with. For the cats too. I really don’t mind so much when they get a little out of control. It’s easy enough to fix, and I’d rather have fun with them, than nag them about cleaning up after themselves. But there are times when my White Couch World seems the dreamiest place to be. The boys are there with me, they’re just tidier, that’s all. Oh…and Sissy is there too. Helping to keep things just right.

Ode To Those I Love Part III

The month of May entered our lives with grief and sadness. It seemed to be going out that way too. On Friday night I said goodbye to Kimo Kitty. Breaking the last bit of my tender heart. Sometime earlier in the week I had decided that he was it. We had another cat at home (Brother Boy, who I haven't really been fair too. He's a good cat. Actually very sweet. He just doesn't speak English or really know how to interact with humans.) and I just didn't want another one. I was through with pets for a while. When Lovey asked if we were going to get another cat I answered with an emphatic NO. I had made it quite clear to Chas & Lovey that Brother was more than enough and to not...even...ask!

It was Memorial Day weekend. Hot. Sad. Nothing could make me happy. That Sunday, Chas joined his regular group for his weekly round of golf. It was his first time to play after loosing Flash. The men he plays with are his true friends. They were all there for Chas at the memorial service. I am grateful for them. For the sake of Lovey, I tried to make it as normal a day as possible. We woke early. I finished my chores. We went to the market. I was hoping to bar-b-que with our neighbors, and maybe play some dominos. Some bit of routine. As I pulled in the driveway and parked, Chas came skipping out the door. (Let me tell you...my husband does not skip. He's a mans man. He does not wear his emotions on his sleeve. So to see him skip was something-especially in our current state of saddness). At the same moment, our neighbor Egg came skipping around the fence to my car. He's not a "skipper" either. So frankly, I was shocked. Why were these two men so excited to see me come home from the market? I was suspcious.

Chas joyfully says "We got you something!". This did not ease my suspicion. Chas is not one to spontaneously get me anything. And if Egg was involved either it was some sort of practical joke or something that was really for them under the cover of being for me. I cautiously walked into the house. What I found did not make me as happy as these too skipping excited man-boys. Hiding under a chair was this dirty thing that I could only guess was some sort of kitten. I turned around to the trouble makers and said "NO." However, when together, these two are no dummies. They knew if Lovey saw it, then we would have to keep it. Being smarter than them, I again said "NO" this time looking directly at Lovey. "You keep it." I said to Egg.

Apparently Egg & Lovey had discussed their presentation. Both know me quite well and know how to push my buttons. Both were familar with how Kimo entered my life and they were going to take full advantage of my weakness for the unloved.

They arrived at the golf course early in the morning as they normally do. One of their foursome had found kitten roaming around. He had also found a shoe box with some air holes poked in it nearby. Apparently someone had abandoned the poor thing in the park next to the golf course. The kitten was terrified and had hidden in the engine block of their friends car (a Lexus, this is important later). After several attempts to get it out, and their tee time fast approaching they finally gave up. Hoping that the cat would stay put until they were done. Well she did. Egg & Chas decided to bring her home. Hoping that either Egg's girlfriend Irish or I would want to keep it.

As they were telling me this story I sat staring at that tiny thing. She was a mess. It was clear that she was very young. Her eyes must have just opened. They were wide and glassy. Still a little blue. She was so dirty that she looked to be grey with black spots instead of the creamy white with cow dots that she is. She was literally covered in fleas. She had an absece on one ear. Whoever had choosen to abandon here hadn't been taking very good care of her.

Egg & Irish are cat people. At the time they had a very mean white Persian & a Bengal. Neither of them open to welcoming another cat into the house. It didn't seem as if this dirty little fur ball would be living next door. Between Irish & I we gave her about 4 baths and managed to get all of the dirt off and most of the fleas. A few heavy doeses of flea repelent and they seemed to dropping off quickly. There she sat, on our neighbors patio table. Wet, scrawney and just plain sad looking. Lovey & Irish starting naming her. Big mistake. If you name, you keep it. They decided that since she was found in a Lexus, she should be named Lexi. Reluctantly I agreed to keep her with us until we could get her to the vet's office and give her up for adoption. Wouldn't you know it, I called first thing Tuesday morning and they couldn't see her for a week. As it turns out, that was just the length of time she needed to make me hers.

Somehow Lexi knew that I was the most resistent to keeping her. Somehow she knew that it was I that finally allowed her to stay. She would creep up and sneak into my lap then flop as if all the bones in her body were gone, and quickly fall asleep purring. She would follow me around the house "talking" to me all the way. It wasn't long before she snuck into my heart. Now, she truly is my cat.


She is somewhat afraid of Chas and his big voice and rough hands. But if he's sitting still it's his warm lap she uses to nap. She is nervous around Lovey and his quick twelve year old body & ever growing feet, but sneaks into his bed at night to snuggle with him. I am her companion. She still follows me wherever I go. Chit-chatting about her day. We carry on conversations about whatever is on my mind. In the midst of packing to go where ever it is I'm going she never fails to start carrying things away or to crawl into the suitcase in an attempt to stop me from going. She loves it when I cook. She'll sit on the kitchen stool and yell at me until I pick her up to show her what I'm working on. She doesn't like "people food", she isn't interested in eating what I'm fixing, she just wants to know what is so important that it's taking attention away from her. When I take a shower she sits on the edge of the tub between the shower curtain & liner, fascinated by the water. Her legs seem to be made of springs. If there is a spider or moth in the house she become obsessed with it. More than once we have found her jumping at least four feet up a wall in attempt to catch watever flying thing she thinks she sees. Once, she jumped up on the cabinet holding the TV, then on top of the TV, then to the ceiling, only to slide all the way down the wall. She is quite the entertainer. She loves to play fetch, but only with me.


We live in a village in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains. It is not unusual to see coyotes or other wild life. For this reason we decided that Lexi would be an indoor cat (as is Brother). She loves to stare out the windows & watch the world. She is terrified of going out into it though. Once Egg's Bengal cat was sitting on a chair on our porch, hissing and growling at Lexi through the screen. Between the two of them, they hit the screen just right and it popped off. She fell out the window hanging on to the edge for dear life (she would have only fallen about a foot into the chair, no harm would have been done). She could not scramble to get back into the house fast enough. She spent the rest of the day hiding under the bed.

Today has become what we call our Lexiversary. When I say to to her "It's our Lexiversay!" She meows and shakes her head, then rubs against me. I think she is thankful too, for being rescued by us. While Lexi Dot (as she has come to be known) will never fill the void left by Flash and Kimo, she has done so much to ease the pain. She entertains and loves us. She is a tiny angel sent to ease our suffering.

Ode To Those I Love Part II

(Isn't he beautiful!)

May of 2004 was a hard time for us. Flash was so much a part of our daily lives. Nothing we did felt complete without him. We were blindingly sad. We tried to take comfort in each other and those around us. A second loss was coming. One that while maybe not so earth shattering, was one that "broke the dam" so to speak. All of the grief we had been holding in for Flash flowed over into the next.

(The next story may pale in comparison to the last. But to those of you that have pets, it will seem almost as important. It was too me. Sissy..forgive me if some of the details or dates aren't just right)

Kimo Sabe, the Flying Monster Kitty
When I was in high school, somewhere around 1989 or 1990 my sister came home from work with a box full of kittens. Not just one little kitten but a whole litter that had been abandoned. They needed love and homes.

My grandfather was not thrilled. At the time we had at least 3 dogs (although it may have been 4), 2 cats that belonged to us and countess others that came around for food and attention, a fish pond, a bird aviary, and a rabbit. There were more than likely a few tree frogs and toads hanging out in the backyard too. My sister and I grew up in a house that never turned away the abandoned or unloved. However, it seems Grump (as my grandfather is affectionately called) had reached the limit. He reluctantly agreed to let us keep the cats until homes could be found for them all. (You see..he's only grumpy on the outside, he really has a great big HUGE heart). Between the two of us those tiny kittens became fat and happy. We took turns feeding them (more her than I) and eventually homes were found for all. Except....one.

Every litter it seems has the "runt". The littlest one that doesn't seem to get or have enough of anything. This litter was no exception. In the box she brought home was this tiny striped ball of fur that simply shook. He was weak and oh so small. He fit in the palm of our hand. Where the other kittens gained weight and grew strong. He didn't. He sat in a ball and only squeaked from time to time. When friends came to look at the kittens and choose one to take home, no one paid any mind to that little furry ball. He didn't seem as healthy or as rambunctious as the others. We were left with that little ball in the box. Grump was not thrilled. We begged and pleaded to keep him, sure that he only need a little love to grow. But Grump was adamant. NO MORE CATS! But here's the thing about grandpa's. They can't resist their grandaughters..no matter how old they get. Somehow we convinced him (or did he convince us) that this cat was going to die. Grump agreed to let us keep him. BUT...just until he died. Never ones to break a promise to our grandfather. We did. He just took his time getting there.

This is how Kimo Sabe The Flying Monster Kitty came to belong to both of us. We shared him equally. For the most part anyway. Because he was taken away from his mother so early, he really did think that we were his mothers. After the competition was gone it didn't take long at all for this weak, tiny little kitten to grow chubby and feisty. He would lay on his back , in the palm of our hand while being fed with a baby bottle. So hungry and so eager to fill his rapidly expanding belly, that food would run all over him. When finally satisfied, he didn't move, just laid there, belly sticky out, half asleep, as we took a warm washcloth and cleaned him up. When he was old enough to start eating solid food, he more often than not went for a swim in the baby cereal we fed him. Then sat patiently, again, as we cleaned him up. He was a very clean cat. Although he never did learn how to wash his own face. That was reserved for us. His favorite spot was in the middle of my sisters very long, very thick hair. He would crawl up, make a nest and fall asleep.

He was named after The Lone Rangers faithful friend, NOT chemotherapy as so many of our friends took to him. The Flying Monster Kitty part came later, but was well earned. Our bedroom was two steps down from the room next to it, with my bed only a foot or so away from the stairs. Now that he had energy and strength, Kimo took to leaping from the top step, into the middle of my bed, then in to the middle of my sisters bed. At times going so fast it was as if he was flying. Sure, he missed his landing a few times, but this only served to make us laugh, then pet and kiss him, so what did he care. He could be a real monster though. Especially when it came to Grammy. She was never that fond of cats to begin with. I think she is slightly scared of them. He knew this and took full advantage of it. When we weren't around, he would hide under chairs and swipe at her feet when she walked by. As he got older, he took to chasing her around the house. I don't think he ever would have scratched her, but he was happy that she thought he would. He was the boss and wanted everyone to know it.

Kimo was taken from other cats so soon that he really didn't know how to be just a cat. The other two cats we had at the time were primarily outdoor cats and wanted nothing to do with this thing we brought home. The dogs, on the other hand, didn't mind him so much. Because of this, Kimo seemed to be part cat, part dog, part human. He rarely meowed, and when he did it was surprising. And even then it came out more like a bark. He growled quite a bit. Sometimes it was because he was mad at you, sometimes he was just talking. I know that at times, it was him saying simply...I love you. He would growl, nibble my finger or hand..or whatever was closest to him. Not hard, just put his teeth around whatever it was he was biting, then he would look at me with those big Kimo eyes and lick me. Now that was love. Somewhere along the line we taught him to apologize when he bit too hard. A little touch on his nose, a stern "That was mean! Say you're sorry!" and he would. Usually reluctantly, but he would like whatever he bit then run away, sulking. He was not a cat to scratch a person intentionally, but he was fond of hitting you, sometimes rather hard, with his paw.

Kimo Sabe loved to eat...just not cat food. He'd manage to eat dry food but just because he had too. If he wanted water, he wanted it out of a glass. His favorite food was ice cream. He had some strange ice cream sense. Walking into the kitchen brought no response from him. However, if the purpose of walking into the kitchen was for ice cream, he somehow knew first that the freezer was where you were headed and got there first. It was impossible to eat ice cream without sharing. He start off sitting on the floor, staring at you. Then he'd jump up next to you, slowly getting as close as he could. Then if you weren't watching, he reach out and tap your hand as if to say "Please?". If that didn't get a response it wouldn't be long before his nose was sniffing your mouth as you brought the spoon closer. He was always given the dish at the end to lick the bowl, but he wasn't one to be patient.



When my sister began the process an adult makes of leaving the nest, he went with her most of the time. After lovey was born, he lived with me for a short time. Where most cats are terrified of moving, he really didn't care as long as he had my sister or I. When my sister married a man with a great big Bernese (sp) Mountain Dog, he made sure that Shiloh knew not to mess with him. When she moved to Idaho, Kimo went too. Not only did it break my heart that she was going, but she was taking my cat too! It wasn't long before she called to tell me a funny story about him being lost in the field for a couple of days. Of course she didn't tell me about while he was lost. I'm pretty sure that she ws thinking "my sister is going to kill me". It was only safe to tell me AFTER my wonderful brother in law found him, scared to death, in the middle of the garden. My first trip to Idaho, Kimo made sure he let me know he wasn't happy with me for sending him out to the wilderness. But in the middle of the night, he woke me up, lying next to my head purring. He couldn't stay mad at me for long.

A few years went by, and a few more babies entered the world. My sister just didn't have enough time to share with her first baby anymore. It was time to come live with me. He was mad at first, but quickly adapted and made my home his. He would sleep with Lovey at night, and wake me up in the morning by sitting in the hall and staring at me until I got up to feed him. He spent a few years with us before he got sick. One morning I woke up and he wasn't waiting for me in the hall. When I found him, he was in pain. he wouldnt' let me touch him and he couldn't walk. He wouldn't eat. He stayed over night with the vet but they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him and said they would be able to without expense test and possibly surgery. They felt sure he was dying. I was broke and couldn't' afford to spend the money needed to save him. The vet said she could tell he was well loved and agreed to let him come home to die. Two days went by and he was still in pain. He would let me pet only for a minute or so before shying away from me. Then one morning I woke up and there he was staring at me in from the hallway as if nothing had happened. He was Kimo again.

Two years later, I found Kimo in pain again. But this time he couldn't move one of his legs. But this time, he didn't hide, he wanted more than anything to be with me. To be touched and loved. More trips to the vet, and more tests. This time they knew what was wrong. We were told that they couldn't be sure without x-rays, but they were confident that he was Cardiomyopothy (sp). The vet felt he had a blood clot and that is what kept him from being able to move his leg. This disease, in a human, is usually treated with a heart transplant. Not a option for a cat. There was medication for it, but with a cat his age, they didn't feel it would do any good and would be costly. We had to make the decision to put him to sleep.

Although Kimo was an animal. the decision we had to make and the pain we had to go through was too similar to the events of the past month. On the Friday before Memorial Day 2004, just three weeks after the passing of Flash, my husband and I drove Kimo to our vet's office and said goodbye. The night before I fed him ice cream and held him in my lap. All of the tears that I had been holding in since losing Flash came flooding out. How could I love two souls I loved so much in just a few weeks? I choose to stay with Kimo as they put him down. I just couldn't leave him behind to die alone. Again I stood at the feet of a loved one and touched him, talked to him. Cried over him. Again I told stories and said goodbye. My husband and I stood there crying with each other over Kimo and Flash.

The memories of that month are all clouded by the loses of Flash and Kimo. My poor boy turned 10 that year with no party, no fun. He lost his favorite uncle and his cat in one swoop. While we have not quite learned to fill in the holes left behind by Flash & Kimo. Just a few days later we started to heal with love from an unlikely source.

An Ode to those I love

I have decided something. (When I say this or "I have an idea" to my sister or husband it's usually greeted with something like "uh oh". In this case, as in most cases, that is not a fair response. They do it just to drive me crazy.)

I have decided that the people I love should be told so NOW. Not tomorrow. Not when it's too late, but now. Not that they don't already know how much I love them. For the most part, I think they do. But what they don't know...What they haven't heard...Is my Ode To Them. I realized through spending time here that I use the word love frequently. The thing is....I mean it when I say it. I'm usually referring to a specific person. I failed when it came to my fathers death. I let my fear get the best of me and I didn't take the chance to let him know how much I loved him. I'm not sure he knew. I let the chance pass me again with my sweet brother in law. Although, I'm fairly sure he knew. So here it is. Here I will begin my Odes to those I love.


I am choosing to start this process with the events of May 2004 and the loss of two souls that I truly cherished. Everything changed that year. In my home...We are still recovering. Or rather, trying to learn to live with the changes.




Flash....
Flash was born in May 1961. 11 months & 20 days behind one brother and 12 months 29 days before another. Both of them blue eyed blonds and both with a wild streak. Here was Flash with his thick dark hair and hazel eyes and a gentle spirit. (One more brother would come a year later-the gifted son that no one could compete with.)
He was born sick. He couldn't breath. He spent most of his early childhood in and out of hospitals. Always with a wrong diagnosis and never with a cure. At one point he even lived in a home for people with tuberculosis. No one could figure out what was wrong with this little boy. They knew he had asthma, but also that there was something much much more serious happening. Sometime in his late teens they decided it was a bronchial disease, but still didn't have it quite right.

Even though Flash spent most of his years fighting to breathe he never let it slow him down. He had older sisters doting on him and his brothers to keep up with. If they could ride their skateboards up and down the Hollywood Hills, so could he. If they could hike to the Hollywood sign and be mischievous, so could he. If they could sneak into the backyards of the rich and famous for some wall rides in an empty pool, so could he. He might have been a bit slower, maybe he couldn't spin as fast as they could, but he could do anything his brothers did. They were his best friends. Especially Chas. Because Flash had spent so much time away from school he was a year behind, that meant he was in the same grade as Chas. He was his shadow. They went everywhere together and did everything together.

He carried this spirit of can-do into his adult life. He joined the Army. Hiding just how bad his lungs were. He was discharged a few weeks into boot camp after they found out how bad he was. But he gave it the effort and that's all that mattered. He met a girl and had a huge wedding. They lived in a cute little house then a cute little apartment. She gave up on him when she realized that she couldn't spend her life taking care of him-they separated. I think it broke his heart. He moved to Colorado to start a new life, only to find out that the air was too thin for his frail lungs to take. He came home. He moved in with Chas, me, and his new baby nephew, Lovey. He saw his wife again only two or three times. All the while, waiting for her to file for divorce. He just couldn't bring himself to be the one. Being the coward she was, she waited until the last possible moment to finally divorce him. Just in time to remove herself from any legal responsibility.

As John grew older, his lungs continued to get worse. He would wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe with blood in his lungs. Finally, FINALLY, the right doctor was found and Flash was correctly diagnosed. But the prognosis wasn't good. His lungs were failing fast, quickly turning to scar tissue, unable to expand, unable to breathe for him. He was quickly put on the transplant list. A few years went by before he got the call..Then it was a false alarm. But somehow, a few weeks later, the call did come. They had a set of lungs for him, all he had to do was get to USC Hospital fast. Chas rushed him to the hospital and that night Flash had a double lung transplant. Yes...Both of his dying lungs were removed and replaced with fresh and healthy lungs.

Recovery was a long and difficult process. The body doesn't want to accept what doesn't belong there. He was given endless bottles of medication. Because of all of the drugs, he became a diabetic. A side effect of transplants. More medication to take. He was finally able to come home and lived with one of his sisters for a few months. He then found a tiny little studio apartment in the village he loved. A short walking distance to Chas' house and below the hiking trail where he enjoyed walking his sisters dog. These hikes helped strengthen his spirit and his lungs. Little did we know that he was lifting the spirits of other people on the same hiking path.

Another few years went by and Flash seemed to be doing well. He had moments of physical weakness, and a few scares. But all in all, he seemed to be doing fine. He even took part in the Transplant Olympics in Florida. He dated, took care of himself. Golfed and hiked. Spent time with his nieces and nephews, and parents. Then, in the summer of 2003 he came down with a cold. He was checked into the hospital. From that point on...He was in and out of the hospital. Never really making it back to where he was before. At first it was the aspergilous (sp). Then chronic rejection, then full rejection. The new year began with Flash spending more and more time in the hospital. Each time was that much harder to see him go in. More than once he called us in the wee hours of the morning, or late at night to drive him to LA. All of us knew what was happening, but we were terrified to say it out loud. After Easter, in 2004, Flash entered the hospital for the last time. He wasn't breathing. He almost lost his fight for life in the emergency room. He was put on a ventilator and heavily sedated to keep him from fighting the very machine that was keeping him alive.

A few days later the doctor asked to meet with the whole family. Six of us were there that day-all of us that were closest to Flash..Those of us that took care of him. We were told that he would never be able to come off of the ventilator. That he would never be able to breath on his own, or be taken off of the sedation. They told us that he would have to spend his life in a home. We were asked to make a decision. It shocked me then, and does now, how casually this was discussed. It's not that the doctor wasn't caring, he was. It was just so matter of fact. As if the decision we were being asked to make was not one to end a life, but to switch off a light. The air was heavy. As if the weight of our un-wept tears hung from the walls. I will never forget the way my father in law looked that day. In that one hour..That one moment, all the light from him was gone. Somehow, as terrible as it seems, the decision was simple to make. There was no disagreement, there was very little discussion.

Flash, who loved to be outdoors. To golf, and hike. To play with his nieces and nephews. To play cards with his dad. This beautiful man that was so willing to share everything he had -which wasn't much-with anyone who needed it, would never be able to stand in the sunshine again. He would never be able to play a slow game of dominos. He would never again laugh with Lovey. He would never again be the one to give me a hug or just come over to talk to me when I was feeling overwhelmed. Living on a ventilator in a hospital was not an option. It was not the life he was meant to live.

We choose to wait a week before we made the final decision. It was out blind hope that a miracle would happen. That he would breathe again on his own. I knew, we all knew, that it was time to let go. My heart, my brain, my everything told me that it was time to say goodbye. He was already gone.

The day before his birthday, May 4th 2004. Chas & I, two of my sisters in law, and Flash's best friend came to be with him. The clinical part was done quickly. Truly a simple flip of a switch. We held his hand. We shared stories. We laughed and we cried. We watched him go. We let him go.

Shortly after his death, we learned of the lives he touched. One woman he met on the hiking path told us of his encouragement. She was overweight and hiking for exercise. Everytime he saw her, he would smile and tell her how great she looked. She never knew he was sick. She said that his smile, and his generous, unselfish, anonymous support of stranger helped her to carry on. The outpouring of love for Flash and the unending tales of his kindess carried us though. He was the kindest man I have ever known.

Flash was so much a part of our daily life. I spent time with, or spoke to him everyday. I cooked for him almost every night. His absence is felt everyday. I cry thinking of him. Not for him...It's selfishness. I cry for my loss. For his families. I weep for all of the time the Lovey will not be able to share with him. For all of the domino games he won't beat me out of. I know that he is in a better place. He is with the mother and brother he lost. He is happy. He can breathe.

to be continued....

I'm home

I'm home..back from where most of my heart lives. It was sooo very hard to leave. Especially when my beautiful Minnie tells me at least 100 times "I wish you didn't have to go home". And Monkey and Mr Magoo..how I love them too. So sad that they fell asleep without one file hug. I am so loved by those three that it's almost overwhelming. One of those "what did I ever do to deserve so much" kinds of love. I was just there in December but already those three have changed so much. Minnie is tall and beautiful and so much her momma. Magoo has got to be the sweetest little boy ever. He is to thoughtful and kind. My sister is definitely doing something right with her children!

My greatest joy this trip had to have been Monkey. I was so afraid that he would not want to be with me, or have me touch him. Minnie & Magoo...they just oooze excitement when they see me and I can hug and kiss them endlessly without them ever being satisfied (me either for that matter) but Monkey...I always want to do the same to him, but know I have to do it on his terms. It always breaks my heart a little. But not this time. I walked upstairs and he was excited to see me. I could have cried tears of joy! He was so excited that he RAN into the bed his brother and sister were asleep in and bounced with the joy of knowing first that we had come to see them and wanting them to wake up and see me too. We carried on 2 year old conversations and played together. "You wanna play with me" ...oh....if I could have recorded that voice! This is a bit a joy I will carry for a long time. I know it won't always be that easy. But at least I now know that I have made an impression on him too and that even if he has a hard time letting me know, that he loves me as much as I love him.

Seeing my grandparents was wonderful and sad at the same time. I love them so much and they are aging. My grandmother has changed. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but couldn't for fear of her being sad. She wrote Lovey a letter as if to say goodbye. She didn't want him to read it until we were on the airplane. We read it at the airport. I literally broke my heart. This woman that has meant so much to me..that has guided me through life, is sick and I can't be with her. I can't fix it. I can't pat her leg and tell her it will be alright like she has done to me countless times. She is an amazing woman. I can't imagine my life without her.

I have to end for now. Life carries on outside of this bl*g. More later.

Tag you're it. ABC meme

Like I said...two in two days. It's fun though.

Accent: I suppose I have a California accent since I live here. Though I don't really know what that would sound like. If I talk to anyone with even a hint of a southern accent I immediately pick it up. After summers in OK the word y'all would be stuck for a while. Still creeps in on occasion.

Book I like: Changed this to just book because it's broader. My current favorite book is The Time Travelers Wife by Audrey Niffengger (positive I've spelled that wrong). Starts off a bit sci-fi which I don't normally like, but it is really a beautiful love story. East of Eden & Of Mice & Men by John Steinbeck are at the top of my list too.

Chore I don't care for: Cleaning the bathtub. Is there an easy way to do this? One that doesn't involve getting on my knees on the bathroom floor? Hard work.

Dog or Cat: Not a fair question. I love them both. I have cats and I can't have a dog right now. Much like people, it depends on their personality. I haven't ever met a cat or dog that didn't like me though.

Essential Electronics: I suppose none of them are essential, humans have lived with out them for centuries. BUT, being the modern girl I am, I must have my MP3 player at work to tune out the girl that sits next to me. She sings, off key, in spanish, all day long. If she's not singing off key she talks nonstop. A bit distracting. Also...must have my curling iron. Because, if I can't have my hairdryer, at least I can let my crazy hair (trust me..it's crazy) dry naturally then straighten/curl it with the iron.

Favorite cologne: Romance by Ralph Lauren

Gold or Silver: White Gold or Platinum.

Handbag I carry most often: I change it a lot. I once had a great green leather satchel with hot pink linen lining. I LOVED IT. But something spilled on it and it was never the same again. Started to smell bad so I had to get rid of it. I will spend the rest of my shopping days hoping to find it's equal.

Insomnia: Sometimes. Tonight...yes.

Job Title: Underwriter for mortgage loans. Thrilling isn't it.

Kids: My sweet lovey. Boy...just turned 12

Living arrangements: Living in the crummiest, cheapest rent we could find, house in the nicest neighborhood. I live in a small quiet village in the foothills. No stop lights. Median house price is 1 million though, so I think I'll keep renting my crummy house for a while.

Most admirable trait: Don't know really. Something someone else should answer. I am an incredibly loyal person. I'm like a dog that way. I also have the ability

Naughtiest childhood behavior: My sister and I were pretty good. I don't know that I was every really that naughty. I did take my sisters things without asking. Although I'm sure my bossy sister will have something else to say about this subject.

Overnight hospital stays: Just two.

Phobias: Used to be spiders, but I'm pretty much over that, except for really big ones. Living in the foothills where spiders are EVERYWHERE will cure you fast. Still terrified of bees and wasps. Just thinking about the sound makes me nauseous (SP?)

Quote: There are so many I like. I have several of my favorites hung up in my cubicle at work. Working in a cubicle..sometimes you need some inspiration.

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world" Mahatma Gandhi. I will forever try to live up to this.

"If you cannot be the poet, be the poem", David Carradine. Sit and think on this one and it becomes beautiful.

"The best portion of a good man's life: his little, nameless, unrememberd acts of kindness and love" William Wordsworth.


Religion: None. For me, faith is enough.

Siblings: Okay...here's something that really touches me. I grew up with just my sister. I love her madly and I am thankful everyday for her. I can't imagine life without her and pray that when our time comes we can pass within hours of each, so that I never have to exist without her. She has always been enough. She married a man that was made for her. He has somehow learned to survive the two of us. He is my brother, and I'm blessed to have him.

Then I married a man with 4 brothers and 6 sisters (before you start thinking his parents were crazy...1 brother & 2 sisters are "steps") From those 10 brothers & sisters I now have an additional 4 brother & sisters in law. I went from 1 lovely sister to having 16 brothers and sisters! Talk about overwhelming.

Of those 16 people, 3 brothers have passed away. I was only fortunate enough to know one of them, but he was an incredibly special person. I miss him everyday. I'm crying now, just thinking of his smiling face. I have grown very close to 3 of my "new" sisters. They are incredibly unique from each other, but all loving and kind. I'm glad to have them.
Time I wake up:

Unusual talent or skill: Oh I don't know. There are 26 of these questions. I can't guess what my unusual talent is. :)

Vegetable I refuse to eat: Okra. Too many summers spent forcing it down out of courtesy to older relatives. I know avoid it at all costs. Brussle sprouts are bad too.

X Rays: Just once.

Yummy stuff I cook: Apple pecan cheesecake. Boston cream cheesecake. Mushroom mashed potatoes. Fried chicken. Dad Salad (pasta & tuna). Chicken enchiladas. Pasta Fagiole.

Zoo animal I like most: Zoos make me sad. I do love the chimpanzees & apes though. Just recently spent over an hour each watching the Gorillas then the orangutan at the San Diego zoo.

Okay..that was enough for one day. I'm pooped now!

Meme

Where have I been? How did I say away a month. It's not as if I haven't had anything to say.

So my big sister tagged EVERYONE with two meme's in two days. The nerve! Since I'll be with her tomorrow night at about this time, best to answer (respond, continue? What is the right word) right away. She is bossy after all.

What is your favorite word? Serendipity. The way it sounds..What it means. The word.

What is your least favorite word? Belch. The way it sounds. Both the word and the thing itself. Even the way it looks is bad.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?Creatively: Other amazingly talented people. A really good book or poem makes me want to write. A beautiful piece of art makes me want create the same beauty. Spiritually: Sun light filtered through clouds. That, to me, is evidence of God. Emotionally: Lol..what doesn't. I'm pretty emotional. I can cry or laugh at just about everything. As my grandma says..What you see is what you get. I cannot, try as I might, hide my emotions. I wear them on my sleeve.

What turns you off? Rudeness. Impatience. Intolerance. Cruelty.

What is your favorite curse word? Alright, now that my sister had made me wound like a potty mouth...which I'm not. I rarely swear..I have to set the record straight. The most I usually say is DAMN, in that under the breath, shocked or frustrated way. Usually at myself. However, when really frustrated with someone, I have been known to use the word DUMBA**. Mostly because the word itself makes me giggle. And who doesn't need a laugh in the middle of being frustrated?

What sound or noise do you love? The children in my life giggling. Not laughing, that's different, giggling. Rain. The ocean.

What sound or noise do you hate? A nose whistling. Especially if it's me.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Writer, artist, teacher

What profession would you not like to do? Anything involving bodily fluids.

What would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? Welcome home.

That's it. Now you are all tagged. :)

Things I really like

I've decided we all need a little more "positivity" in our lives. There is so much negative out there that we need to spread the good, the happy thoughts, the silly things that make us happy. So here are mine. Maybe they'll make you smile too

M&M's
An ice cold Coke, highly carbonated.
A hot peppermint mocha from Starbucks on a cold day
The smell of wet pavement on a hot day
How cold the sand can be just 6 inches below the blazing hot top layer
The smell of my grandmothers house when she's making boiled dinner
(I used to really hate this smell. It involves cabbage and ham, but now, really really like it. It's a warm and salty smell...yum)
The smell of a freshly watered lawn
Big drops on fast roller coasters
A hug from my boy
When my husband calls me in the middle of the day just to say hi
Making my grandfather laugh
The smell of rain
Catching "tickle bugs" with my boy, niece & nephews
Spending time with my Sister who lives too far away
Disappearing into a really good book
LEARNING
The color blue
Knudsen Light Cottage cheese, Lays Potato Chips & Van D'Kamps Baked Beans. Trust me. No redeeming qualities, but oh so good.
My grandma's Blueberry cake
My niece and nephews...I am so amazingly lucky that they love me as much as they do!
My boy
Playing board games
Kimo Sabe the Flying Monster Kitty. He's no longer with us, but I still love him
That my cat, Lexi, talks to me. I'm crazy. I know.
Really laughing at a good movie
The devotion of a dog.(Jack...While he may live with my sister and her family, and they may be the ones feeding him, taking him to the vet, and dealing with him on a daily basis, he is my dog. He loves me. I love him. It's just a matter of time before I steal him away)
A good "singing" song
Irish blessings
Homemade peach ice cream
The funny papers (Get Fuzzy, For Better For Worse & Baby Blues)
The giant sequoias in Northern California
San Diego
The word....SERENDIPITY
The sound of an automatic car backing up
A good hair day
An Oklahoma sunset out on the lake
The light that goes on in my child's eye when I've taught him something.

Oh my, this list could go on forever. I'll stop now. Possibly will continue later.
I've leave you with these words..

"May the saddest day of your future be no worse

Than the happiest day of your past."

(Just realized that kpjara did the same thing not too long ago...Not copying from you...I promise! You, as always, inspired me so. I didn't even realize it until I was done. I apologize in advance )