B Brats Thoughts

Ode To Those I Love, Part IV

2008-12-07T08:43:00.001-08:00

Today is my sisters 40th birthday. She was born on December 7th, 1968 in Altadena, CA. She was the first grandchild and the perfect baby. Not to mention beautiful with those big blue eyes and long dark eyelashes. She was given the name Tammy Marie by my parents. She doesn’t like her first name, and I have to agree, by itself, it’s rather 60’s-ish. But to my ears, hearing her called Tammy Marie has always been pretty. As a little one, I was never able to say Tammy, so she became Sissy and the name stuck. As recently as a week ago, I referred to her as Tammy and was reprimanded. To me she will forever be Sissy. Like the Baldwin Sisters from Walton’s Mountain. Two old women, calling each other by their childhood nicknames.

She spent the first 4 years, 3 months & 16 days of her life on her own. Then I came into the world and she became so much more than just a big sister. I was her baby. It is because of her that my name isn’t Bridgette or something equally dated to the early 70’s. She choose to give me her middle name because she wanted us to share it. From the day I was born, I was her biggest fan and she was my everything.

We spent the first part of lives as one word, TammyAndMichelle or TheGirls. We were frequently dressed alike in handmade dresses or blouses. It wasn’t unusual for our hair to be cut the same either. We were usually given the same gifts and always a matching set of Barbies. I suppose the idea was to eliminate arguing. I don’t recall fighting with each other when we were very little, but once she entered middle school & high school, there was a lot of bickering. Not ones to stay mad at each other, it never took long for us to be friends again. As adults we are individuals but still as close as sisters can be. We no longer intentially dress alike or have the same hair style. Now when we bicker it's usually only Minnie Mouse tones and followed by quite a bit of laughter. We are still at times given the same gift by our grandparents. Some things never change.

I cannot adequately relate my love of her here. Words seem meaningless. I’m grateful she understands my heart and how much I do love her. She has been my greatest defender, my best friend, my biggest adversary, my parent, my sister. If God gave me the choice I would still pick her as my sister. She is beautiful and kind. Intelligent and funny. When I’m having a bad day, a phone call from her can pick me up. She lives several hundred miles away yet still, my Lovey loves her like another mom. She amazes me. She is an incredible mother. Her children never doubt that they are truly loved. She makes time for each one every day. Whether its five minutes or several hours, they all get a moment when they are the only thing she focuses on. I know she doubts this, but I see it. This sister of mine manages to raise her children, home school them, run a business, help her husband with running his business, helps our grandparents with their needs, lends a hand to anyone in need, all at the same time. Only occasionally do I see all of this affect her. She keeps it together and keeps all at peace. She lives a life full of grace and remembers each day to praise God for it all.

When I was little, maybe 4 or 5, Sissy would read Winnie The Pooh to me. It is because of this that one will always remind me of the other. Pooh said something to Christopher Robin once that sums up perfectly what I’ve been trying to say: “If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you.”

I love you my sweet Sissy. Happy Birthday!

Recent projects

2008-12-01T16:55:00.000-08:00

For Thanksgiving as a hostess gift of sorts I embroidered on two aprons. One for my sister in law Fifi who made a good portion of the meal and the other for my sister in law Christy who hosted the event. Both turned out pretty cute. Pictures aren't very good, but you'll get the idea.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-25T09:51:00.001-08:00

Desert Storm
Originally uploaded by ms4jah

Happy Thanksgiving! I know, I’m a few days early but we’re on the road tomorrow morning to Warner Springs for a cold & rainy holiday. One of the many things I’m thankful for. The coming days will be filled with cooking & family. There’s so many of us that the list of things I’m thankful for often goes unspoken. So with two more days to go, here are a few of those many, many blessings….

I am thankful for…
My family-California & beyond
My old friend Ferris coming back into my life
My job and the simple fact that I still have one
The weather finally cooling off for a chilly Thanksgiving
That is will rain this week and the burnt earth will begin to heal
That on Thanksgiving Day we will have a lovely meal made from scratch by loving hands

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-25T09:16:00.001-08:00

Desert Storm
Originally uploaded by ms4jah

Happy Thanksgiving! I know, I’m a few days early but we’re on the road tomorrow morning to Warner Springs for a cold & rainy holiday. One of the many things I’m thankful for. The coming days will be filled with cooking & family. There’s so many of us that the list of things I’m thankful for often goes unspoken. So with two more days to go, here are a few of those many, many blessings….

I am thankful for…
My family-California & beyond
My old friend Ferris coming back into my life
My job and the simple fact that I still have one
The weather finally cooling off for a chilly Thanksgiving
That it will rain this week and the burnt earth will begin to heal
That on Thanksgiving Day we will have a lovely meal made from scratch by loving hands

With that, I wish you a beautiful holiday.

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Odes...continuing

2008-11-21T14:23:00.000-08:00

Just read through my previous "Odes". Lots of typos to fix but I think they're still good. I have two in me for this year. They'll be coming soon. Stay tuned....

Christmas Music

2008-11-17T10:22:00.000-08:00

I know it’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but I’m already listening to Christmas music. I can’t help it. It is one of my favorite parts of this time of year. Yesterday, I bought YoYo Ma -Songs of Joy & Peace. As I type, Alison Krauss is singing The Wexford Carol. A song I had never heard before now and it’s beautiful. The combination of the haunting cello and her angelic voice…puts me in a truly peaceful, Christmas-y mood. Never mind that it will likely be 90 today, or that the world around is quite literally going up in flames. Right now, I feel joy & peace. More importantly, I’m feeling full of hope.

May I be the first to wish you a very merry Christmas.

Coffee, coffee, coffee

2008-11-06T07:57:00.000-08:00

This post is primarily for my sister. Why? Because she will be shocked. Joyously shocked at something new to tease me about.

I have, over the last few weeks, been increasingly drawn to a simple cup of coffee. While this may seem normal to most people, I have never been a coffee person. An iced mocha from Starbucks now and then. If it was really really cold (a rare occasion in my neck of the woods), maybe a Peppermint Mocha. I have never been one to crave a cup o’ joe in the morning.

But lately, the idea of it has been intoxicating. Just the other day, as I toasted my pumpkin bagel, I dug into my husbands coffee stash looking for the one pod not labeled “jet fuel” or something similar. I took my first sip and my husband stepped into the kitchen. His mouth fell open in speechless wonder. My husband being speechless is really something. I just don’t drink coffee in the morning.

Maybe it’s part of getting older. Maybe it’s the added stress in my life. Whatever it is, I’ve made the first step into the world of coffee drinkers. I know I’ll be welcomed with open, if somewhat jittery, arms.

Doughnut Muffins

2008-11-02T11:24:00.001-08:00

100_1291_edited-1.JPG
Originally uploaded by bbratsthoughts

I spent the better part of last week searching online & through cookbooks for doughnut muffin recipes. All were pretty similar but each had something slightly different about them. Google "Doughnut Muffins" and find one that sounds good to you. Most recipes I found called for nutmeg. I'm not a huge fan so I used pumpkin pie spice instead. I can't describe how light and yummy these muffins are. They smelled so good that my neighbor called to ask me to bring by whatever it was I was baking.

Edit: Here's a link to a very similar recipe out there in blogdom. She used powdered sugar instead but still sounds yummy.

This will make you laugh. At me.

2008-10-29T10:57:00.001-07:00

Shared the following with Ferris & also my sister in law Fifi. They both laughed so why not share it here.

I'm sitting here listening to my iPod. I notice that the music sounds strange, like it's kind of muted and not really "stereo". I play with the volume. Nothing fixes it. I'm getting to that 3 year mark so I start thinking the sound is going out and I won't be able to buy a new one for while. Seriously start getting frustrated and irritated with the thing as I play with it to fix the sound.

Then I realize. I only have one ear bud in. The other is hanging down the front of me. Dork. Sounds fine now.

Trying to find peace....

2008-10-29T10:16:00.000-07:00

I’m currently a bit overwhelmed with worry. I think most of us are. It seems everyone I know is facing some sort of crisis. My sweet brother in law is a financial advisor and deals with it everyday. I’ve been comforted by the fact (as told to me by my Sissy) that many of the appointments he’s gone on have started off about money, but have ended up being time spent in discussion of faith and comfort that God will provide. Today, my loved ones & I have roofs over our heads. Food in our stomachs. Clothes on our backs. If tomorrow we don’t, we are not alone and will care for one another. That is enough.
Times are changing and as they say, our true selves will be revealed in how we handle the hardships and change.

I recently created a playlist for myself on iTunes. I love it. It’s a little bit political, but not entirely. If, like me, you listen to the beauty of the music combined with the lyrics, you’ll see what I mean. It shows my frustration & hope at the same time. Music can soothe the weary heart. I just spent the last 30 minutes slyly trying to figure out how to post it here through imeem with no luck at all. So, it’s up to you. I’ll give you the playlist. If you want to hear the music itself, head on over to iTunes or wherever you listen to music & create it your self. Enjoy.

God’s Gonna Cut You Down-Johnny Cash
In The News-Kris Kristofferson
One-U2
Instant Karma-John Lennon
This is Our Country-John Mellancamp
Mercy Now-Mary Gauthier
No More-The Blind Boys of Alabama
The Times They Are A Changin’-Bob Dylan
Rich Mans War-Steve Earle
White House Blues-Charlie Poole
We Can’t Make It Here-James McMurtry
What Ever Happened To Peace On Earth-Willie Nelson & Friends
I Hope-The Dixie Chicks
What’s Going On-Marvin Gaye
This Land Is Your Land-Woody Guthrie
A Change is Gonna Come-Sam Cooke
Waiting On The World To Change-John Mayer
Cherry Bomb-John Mellancamp
Real Bad News-Aimee Mann

Cupcake Rationalization

2008-10-21T09:52:00.001-07:00

hostess cupcake ttv
Originally uploaded by lifelovepaper

I was on the phone with my sister last night. At one point she started to give me a really hard time (big sister type of hard time) for eating a Twix bar. A Halloween sized Twix bar. She remembers me saying that I don’t like cheap chocolate. Really, I don’t. It’s kind of waxy and very sugary. BUT-who can resist Halloween sized chocolate? Not me. So anyway, later in the conversation I hear the sound of plastic and ask what she’s doing. What does she say but, “Eating a Hostess Cupcake.” Eating a Hostess Cupcake. Uh-huh. That’s better than eating a Halloween snack size Twix bar. I say this exact thing to her. She, my big sister, a grown woman who home schools her children, runs a business and a household, justifies it by saying “It’s not a real cupcake, it’s mostly air”.

(Pausing while you read that again-go ahead I’ll wait while you stop laughing & catch your breath.)

My only question is….does it say that on the nutritional information label?

Yummy brownies

2008-10-20T07:12:00.000-07:00

I've had this recipe for S'More Brownies for about a month now but never got around to making them. (Photo to the side is from the Food Network website. We ate them too quickly to bother with photography. CHOCOLATE PEOPLE! ) So, this weekend, when the opportunity came up to spend the day with Ferris and her girls I decided it was time.

Oh my goodness were they yummy! The 7 year old was told to take her plate out to the porch for fear of ooey gooey marshmallow getting all over the carpet. As we sat silently eating our afternoon treat we hear from outside "THESE ARE SO GOOD", quickly followed by an impish appearance at the front door, complete with marshmallow dripping down her chin "THESE ARE SO GOOD!" Please click on the photo to be taken to the recipe on www.FoodTv.com. Full disclosure...I did not make the scratch brownies included in the recipe. I used a boxed brownie mix. Maybe next time...for now I was looking for fast and crowd pleasing.

Earlier in they day I made two pans of the graham cracker crust. One for Ferris & her family, the other for mine. As I left the house I mentioned to my husband that he could make the brownie part if he felt like it. Fully expecting to come home to a still empty graham cracker crust. USC was on TV after all. I was pleasantly surprised when I came home to find that he did make the brownie part. All I needed to do was toast the marshmallows. Ferris & I had done this part earlier without a hitch. We had warm golden toasted goodness. No such luck later. I turned on the broiler. I slid the pan in the oven. I called my grandmother. As I sat talking to her about my recipe for Apple Pecan Cheesecake I detected the unmistakable smell of burning sugar. A quick "hold on!" as I threw the phone down and ran to the kitchen. The marshmallows were hugely swollen and a very crisp, very dusty black. I had no choice but to laugh. I grabbed my biggest spoon and scraped away all the char, leaving a shiny marshmallowy glaze on my husbands brownies. We ate them anyway.

2008-10-15T09:39:00.000-07:00

I'm wearing some pretty pretty shoes today. Just got them at Target on sale for $17. What a bargain! I know, some may balk at the idea of wearing Target shoes but I just don't make enough money for the $398 pair I wanted from Anthropologie. A girl has to make do.

I am....

2008-10-13T12:37:00.000-07:00

Found this during my random reading. Can't even remember where I found it. That's horrible. I do, however think it is an interesting exercise. Try it.

I AM … More than I give myself credit for.
I WANT … to be successful. To be creative all of the time instead of wasting my working hours with meaningless paper shuffling.
I HAVE … a million projects in my head. Maybe one will get done.
I KEEP … too much stuff. Always with a future use in mind.
I WISH I COULD … lie in a hammock listening to a stream rolling by while reading Pride & Prejudice. Again. Or Jane Eyre. Or .....
I HATE … intolerant, untruthful, ignorant people.
I FEAR … losing someone I love.
I HEAR … loud, bad 80’s easy listening from a co-workers desk.
I DON’T THINK … I ever feel comfortable in my own skin.
I REGRET … not finishing college.
I LOVE … the precious moments when my husband, Lovey & I are all laughing over the same shared family silliness.
I AM NOT … what I look like on the outside.
I DANCE … to make my son smile & shake his head in mock embarassment.
I SING … because it makes me feel good.
I NEVER … was very good at making friends.
I REALLY … wish I was at home reading a book right now.
I CRY WHEN I WATCH … movies I’ve seen 1000 times.
I AM NOT ALWAYS … as happy & positive as I pretend to be.
I HATE THAT … I am not always as happy & positive as I pretend to be.
I AM CONFUSED ABOUT … Life and what to do next.
I NEED … for nothing. I have a home, a husband and son that love me and a job to help pay the bills. I know where my next meal is coming from. Everything else is extra.
I SHOULD … remember my “I NEED” comment more often

Frustration.

2008-10-13T09:19:00.001-07:00

Frustration.
Originally uploaded by Craig Axxie

I am so sick of working with women that are deceptive and untrustworthy. I am in a difficult position. Being one of three people out of thirty that were not laid off leaves me with having to work with two women I do not trust nor really care for. I’ve been trying to make the best of it but I’m at the end of my rope. One of them I know for a fact has lied and spread nastiness about me behind my back. The other (a woman who claims Christianity), I honestly do know if anything that passes her lips is true. She constantly buddies up to someone to their face but then speaks viciously about them the second they turn their backs. Sometimes she doesn’t even wait for them to be out of earshot! This would include our boss, who may not be the most inspiring person to work for but he is a nice man. Although, I’ve been told in the past not to trust him either. I suppose it’s the nature of working in the industry I do. Living where I do.

It’s a terrible feeling to come to work each day and feel not only like an outsider but to feel as is I need to watch every word I say and every thing that I do. That combined with my general panic that I will eventually get laid off and my husbands business with continue to take a downturn makes for long days in cubicle H-E-Double Hockey Sticks. See! Doesn’t that say something about a person that won’t even swear in a blog that is read by only a handful of people!

These people I work with make me doubt MY goodness. If they can be so mean about me behind my back, then is some of what they say true? They make me want to hide my intelligence and productivity. To “dumb” myself down in attempt to hide from them. I know this is the wrong approach. I know that I should continue to be positive and be true to myself. But today, they are winning.

Dream

2008-10-08T08:19:00.001-07:00

Forest Stream
Originally uploaded by (stacker)

I had one of those dreams last night that, so far, is staying with me. I was in the middle of a forest. In my mind it was Lytle Creek where we camped when I was little but it didn't really look like Lytle Creek. There was a waterfall, and a wide stream. Tall trees and wild flowers were everywhere. Next to the stream was a beautiful cottage with a low porch and big picture windows. Inside, the house was filled with rustic painted furniture. It was overcrowded with tables of every kind. The red velvet couch my Aunt Kibby had was there too. It was a rambling cottage that seemed to go on and on. I was confused when I entered the house. I was barefoot and wearing a long flowing cotton nightgown. From different doorways I saw my Great Grandma Tag, Aunt Kibby, Nanny (my fathers mother), my Grammy (who is the only one of these woman still alive) and for some reason Myrtle-a woman my great grandmother used to clean for. A woman that I only met a few times and that passed away when I was very very young. It seemed she was "in charge". All of the woman were also barefoot and wearing cotton nightgowns. I don't remember any conversations but I do remember being confused and wanting to know what I, and everyone else was doing there. I remember running from room to room trying to "catch" one of the woman for help. Finally, I sat on the red couch with my Grandma Tag looking at old pictures. Pictures that didn't make sense because all of these woman were together and young in the photos. I stepped outside into the sharp, glaring sunlight then at the water shinning so brightly that it blinded me. My alarm clock sounded I was awake. The dream lost.

Dinner

2008-10-06T20:08:00.001-07:00

100_1242
Originally uploaded by bbratsthoughts

Made hash from left over roast beef tonight. I think I enjoy this part of a roast more than I enjoy it the first night. The carrots carmelize. The potatoes brown and crisp. Comfort food at it's best.

Wishful Weathering

2008-10-02T14:59:00.001-07:00

Change is good
Originally uploaded by kennymatic

Today I am wishing for a real Autumn. Changing leaves, crisp days, nights spent dreaming beneath an extra quilt or two. It's at least 90 today. They say it will cool off by this weekend, but I live in the LA area. THEY are just trying to fool me into wearing jeans and big comfy cardigans. THEY are just trying to trick me. I know how they are. If I'm lucky we'll get one or two beautifully clear, cool fall days when the leaves fall off the trees in record time then we'll be right back to hot. I think I need a vacation to higher elevations.

Sunday in Orange

2008-09-30T09:42:00.000-07:00

We did it! We accomplished one of the items on our Sunday List. (Visit Conversations with Shen for details.) On Sunday afternoon we headed out to Old Town Orange for a bit of antiquing. It was a new world for Ferris. I grew up immersed in it. The best part of the day is that my passion rubbed off a little on Ferris and a monster was created. She spent the evening researching her new obsessions on Google & eBay. I gave herself a pat on the back for imparting a little bit of wisdom.

I was a little disappointed in the shopping. Everything was much more expensive than it should be and each store seemed to have the same items. I’ve always been more of a fan of the individual store rather than antique districts. But, there are a few good spots around The Plaza that are worth the drive. It was also a great place to jump (or be pushed) head first into a new world. In my family antiques were a way of life. I’m not talking about Louis the XVI fancy-schmancy furniture, I’m talking about real world, things you can use, antiques. Glass ware, linens, kitchen ware. I would never buy something just to look at it. I want to use it. I want it to have a purpose. Looking pretty is just the bonus.

The best part of the day was spending it with an old friend & igniting a fire. Antiquing, thrifting, junking-whatever you want to call it, is the ultimate in recycling. Why buy something new when something old was probably built better and will last longer? I did find a few treasures…An old hand sifter with the paper label still attached, a potato masher with a green handle, an enamelware ladle ( I LOVE enamelware), an old carnival prize metal cowboy horse and a Ponderosa Ranch tin cup (both gifts for Monkey-I’ll fill the cup with M&M’s). I also found an old Reyn Spooner shirt for my husband for only $20. A steal really. Ferris found a couple of goodies too but her day was more about finding out what she really likes. I’ll post some photos later. My husband hijacked his new shirt for a trip to Atlanta before I was able to snap a picture.

A Confession

2008-09-26T16:30:00.000-07:00

I have a confession.

I am a stalker, a creeper...whatever you want to call it. There are quite a few blogs that I read everyday and I never comment. Why? I have no idea. These sites tend to inspire me to be more creative. They frustrate me a bit too. Only because they show me what I'm capable and remind me that I'm not doing the things I should be.

As a penance, I have added them to my blogroll and I will list them all here. I will make an effort to comment. Find something good to say and just say it. For now, to all of you out there doing the same thing, lets work together and start leaving our positive comments.

Feeling Stitchy
Buttons Magee
Antique Mommy
Future Girl

Grace Stikes Again

2008-09-22T06:39:00.001-07:00

I've mentioned before that my nickname growing up was Grace (one of the many nicknames anyway). Well. This weekend, she stuck her foot out and tripped me up again.

We were visiting family yesterday. The terrain was not my own. Lovey & I were horsing around as we often do. - Now, before I describe this "horsing around" we were doing, please know that nothing is done viciously or with anger, we are laughing the entire time, and for the most part, it is done softly with intent of messing with the other person, not hurting them. There is rarely pain & apologies and giggles are passed when there is.- SO...This game we play usually starts with one of us very lightly kicking the other one in the calf or the rear end. Or lightly finger slapping the other one in the arm or again, the leg. Sometimes there is poking in the arm or stomach. All it takes is one touch and we're both off giggling and smacking each other. My husband HATES it when we do this. He says it's because he knows one of us will end up hurt. But, that rarely happens. I think it's because he's more than a little jealous. He's one of those "doesn't play well with others" kind of fellows. He does play too hard and someone does get hurt when he gets involved.

As we were playing, Lovey got a good smack on my leg. We had an audience and had them all laughing. Because this smack was loud (but not painful) he took off running outside. This caused everyone-mostly men-to make chicken sounds. Again, just teasing , he was laughing & smiling the whole time. While he taunted me from outside the screen door, I warned "Just you wait...I know where you sleep!" A few minutes later, he braved the indoors and stood talking to his uncle. I crept up behind him, kicked him softly in the rear end and took off.

This is when I learned a very important safety tip. Never wear Crocs while running on thick piled carpet. The rubber sticks and you just don't get the speed or control you need. I turned the corner, the toe of my shoe caught on the carpet, my knee buckled underneath me. I looked forward and saw only the corner of the wall. Quickly, I stuck out my arms so they would grab it first rather than my head crashing into the corner. My hands made it, my arms grasped it, I made it to the wall without injury. This was not done gracefully. I was literally hugging the wall while my legs were bent at strange angles, both feet stuck in place because of that darn rubber shoe. As I giggled, I slid down the wall, hit the floor, rolled over and started laughing. My sweet Lovey knew I wasn't hurt so he too laughed to the point of falling to the floor. My wonderful sister in law watched all of this in a panic. All I could hear above the laughter was her calling my husbands name over & over, sure I had seriously injured myself.

I did scrape my knee, and I do have a large bump on my wrist, but the fun was more than worth it. As I stood in my own kitchen later, my husband examining my slightly swollen wrist, he said "I knew someone would get hurt." I just smiled and went for the facts. My boy is 14. He doesn't let me kiss him. He will only on the rarest of occasions let me hug him. But he will play with me. If I get a little banged up in the process, then so be it. Years from now neither of us will remember the sting of a finger slap but we will remember the laughter.

Searching for inspiration...

2008-09-17T07:38:00.001-07:00

inspiration
Originally uploaded by seccad

Last weekend I rearranged my living room. A sure sign of trouble brewing. Usually when I do this it's because I'm trying to distract myself from something else. I knew as I moved my favorite chair into a corner, that this was the case. Four days later and I still don't know what it was I've been distracting myself from.

As I wondered around the local bookstore last night I just couldn't find anything that interested me. That is a shocking thing. Not once have I walked into a book store and not been drawn to something. I knew I was looking for beatuy and inspiration. Something with a lyrical language and deep in meaning. I just couldn't find it. I ended up with the John Adams biography by David McCullogh I've been meaning to read forever and an anthology of poetry. What does that say about what I've been needing? Hope in a politically ravaged time? As I began reading John Adams last night one of his quotes was something like..."You're never alone as long as you've got a poet in your pocket." Fitting that I purchased this and poetry at the same time.

As interesting as this book may become, I don't think it's the inspiration I've been looking for. Maybe the looking for inspiration is a distraction itself. I'm feeling unfocused and scattered. Perhaps today, I'll just listen.

Proud Parent

2008-09-11T08:45:00.001-07:00

100_1181_edited-1.JPG
Originally uploaded by bbratsthoughts

Lovey has been going to "school" his entire life. I've always worked outside the home so he's always had to get up early, pack up his necessities in his backpack and head out the door. The necessities used to be his stuffed Eeyore and Winnie The Pooh blanket. Now it's 50 pounds of books and binders.

While he is a very smart boy, sitting down and listening to a teacher has never been his strong suit. He'd rather take his own time, learn it in his own way. It was the same when learning to write his name as it is learning algebra. The ability is there, but never the drive. He knows things about our history and science that no one has ever taught him, he just knows somehow. I frequently say to him "Why can't you use this power for good?"

The middle school years were extremely difficult (not quite an accurate description-there are not words to describe how painful and heartbreaking they were). Early on, The Mayor & I would help Lovey with his homework. We worked hard on staying involved in what was due and when. We felt that without our push he just wouldn't do the work. This "help" as we saw it, almost always ended in battles & tears. His sensitive nature thought we were picking on him and putting too much pressure on him. After a year and a half of this struggle we stopped helping. We stopped pushing. Clearly the amount of pressure Lovey was feeling wasn't doing anyone any good. No more than "did you finish your homework" crossed our lips. We made the choice that living peacefully together was much more important than whether his homework was done. Was this the right choice? I don't know. Lovey spent so much energy lying to us about whether or not the work was done that his guilt ended up in the same battles and tears. He has always been the type of boy that would "tattle" on himself. If he has done something bad or wrong, he feels it deeply and is often harder on himself than we could ever be. In the end, our choice to not pressure him only resulted in his guilty feelings overwhelming him.

We finally sought help in dealing with his feelings about himself and towards us. Help with how we were handling the situation. Most of our Wednesday night therapy sessions ended uncomfortably. With either me crying, The Mayor angry & hurt, or Lovey silent and withholding. But it's been good for all of us in the long run.

Along with our Wednesday nights, I have spent countless hours in prayer for Lovey. Asking God to be with him. To bring him peace. To allow him focus and understanding towards what he needs to do. Pleading with Him to wrap his loving arms around my boy and protect him from the dangers facing his teenage years.

At then end of his 8th grade year, Lovey was failing 3 classes. Not just the detested algebra, but science & language too. Because of teachers that could see his potential he was given the chance to focus on catching up. He worked diligently during those few months and improved all of those F's up to C's. Without pressuring him, I simply said "Lovey, think of what you could have accomplished had you put in just put in a fraction of that hard work during the year." Normally, he would have protested. Blamed everyone but himself while internally feeling like a failure. I braced myself for the argument that would surely come my way, but it didn't. He just said "I know Mom".

The summer months flew by. On occasion we would talk about the coming change of high school. We would gently tell him that it would be much harder than middle school and that it would require a lot more effort on his part. In the past, these types of conversations would lead to a fight, but not once over the summer did we argue over it. Each time it was discussed he would say "I know. I'm going to try hard this year." Words are easy, it's the actions that tell the story. As September approached I wanted desperately to believe his words. It's a terrible feeling to distrust your child. But all of the fights and lies in the past kept me from being able to trust his words. I continued my prayers, begging for Gods guidance and help with the child I love so fiercely.

The first day of school arrived. In an effort to keep a calm in the house I didn't make a fuss. I didn't take the day off from work. I tried to make it like any other day. When I arrived home from work, Lovey jumped right in to telling me about his day. Talking about his teachers and who he thought he would like & dislike. He gave me the papers I needed right away. He asked for my help in getting the new list of supplies still needed. I sat at the table soaking it all in. Never in his previous 9 years of school had he come home with that much enthusiasm. Never had he volunteered information about his day. Inside I was screaming & jumping for joy. Outside, I smiled and listened. I covered his books while he talked & talked. I helped put together his binders while he laughed telling me he was too nervous to eat lunch that day.

I went to bed that night thankful to God for the joy and peace he had given sweet Lovey. I was eternally grateful for that one day of an enthusiastic student. It's been a week and while the excited nervous energy is gone, the enthusiasm towards the work seems to have stayed. Two nights went by with no homework. A familiar line of "I did it at school" were heard. The doubt crept back into my mind. So I asked. I told Lovey I wanted to believe him, that I did believe, but I needed to see the homework he said he had done. This too would normally cause a huge fight. To my great relief, it didn't. He didn't comment. Didn't argue. He got his book and showed me the work.

There will continue to be a bit of doubt and a need for Lovey to earn back my trust, but I'm taking each day one at a time. The last week was so incredible. I know there will still be bumps in the road, but a huge part of my heart believes that the worst is behind us. I am always proud of Lovey for all that he is and the beauty of his mind and heart. But today, I get to proud of him as a student too. My heart sings with thanks and joy.

Smile

2008-09-09T08:35:00.001-07:00

Smile
Originally uploaded by jh-

Today, I'm challenging everyone who reads this blog. (All three of you!) Pass it on. Smile. Even if you don't feel it at first, by the third or fourth smile, you'll be happier and so will the person you're sharing it with.

"Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been." ~Mark Twain

Afghan project

2008-09-05T08:04:00.000-07:00

My next adventure is in the world of crochet. It's another art first taught to me by my great grandmother (Grandma Tag as we called her) as a child, and reintroduced to me by my beloved Gram as an adult.

When we were very little Grandma Tag was sure to teach us some of her amazing skills. She could make amazing things out of nothing. From building a house to a fancy cake for birthdays and everything in between. She once turned a burnt couch sitting on someones curb for the garbage into a one of kind sectional for her tiny house. She was junking long before Country Home of Country Living made it cool. But I've gotten off track....

My Grandma Tag was and Gram is the type of woman that can crochet an entire afghan in a day. Their turned fingers working like lightening as they worked shell stitches. I'm just not that fast. I've wanted to work on a scrap afghan for quite some time. There is so much yarn in my house I could probably make a few of these projects and still have plenty left over.

I'm roughly 13 rows into my current attempt. I'm trying to keep the color story going. I faded from blue into green and will fade the green into purples next. It's a simple shell & reverse shell but I think it looks sort of like a yo yo quilt (an art I do not yet know how to do-I'm hoping my Gram or mother in law will someday show me).
I really am a beginner at this. I know a handful of stitches and have made maybe 3 afghans in the past. I've made several wash cloths, which is a great way to practice new stitches. With each turn of the hook I think I improve. Maybe someday I'll be as quick as my wonderful grandmothers.

Embroidery Project

2008-09-05T07:44:00.000-07:00

This project is long over due. I've been working on for nearly a year. Not because it was especially complicated. It was just one of those things that I would work on for a while, then set aside only to pick it up again a few months later. It is a pillow for my grandparents and their "new" old trailer. When we were little they had a Travelese that my grandfather rebuilt. It was our home away from home. It was sold when I started high school for a bigger & "better" trailer. Recently, fond memories of the Travelese caused my grandparents to search for something similar to their old trailer and after several months of searching they finally found one. It is so like the one in our memories. They're working hard on fixing it up. I've done my part with a pillow that travels down memory lane.

It includes images that bring to mind our many trips. All but the tree are patterns from Sublime Stitching. I created the tree myself, as you can tell. Many our our trips were to visit the giant redwoods in central & northern California. The words are lyrics to a song my grandmother used to sing while on the road. "Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I wanna go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago and it went straight to my head." I thought it better than my grandfathers ditty "She's got freckles on her but, she's nice." I'm most proud of the fire & the roasted marshmallows.

The picture doesn't quite do it justice. The stones look great in person. Same with the marshmallows. I used a stark white for the top and a taupey brown for the roasted part.

So there it is. My first embroidery project since before the age of 10. I think I did pretty well for someone who hasn't picked up a needle and floss in over 20 years. Now onto to other ideas.

Grumpy cat!

2008-09-03T14:18:00.001-07:00

Grumpy cat!
Originally uploaded by Paul Gillett

This is me today. Quickly approaching that "LEAVE ME ALONE" attitude.

Go Bulldogs!

2008-08-28T20:01:00.001-07:00

Bulldog
Originally uploaded by k.love

Just got back from my sons high school orientation meeting. The principal is inspiring and driven. The assistant principals seem to be serious, dedicated and fun. I've come away inspired by their talks. Not only is this a huge scary milestone sort of of change, but it's also a chance to change in a good way.

Lovey has seen the importance of applying his incredible brain power to school and seems really dedicated to becoming a better student. He also said that he's thinking of joining the golf team. I can't tell you how much this will please not only his father, but his grandfather & uncles. In typical 14 year old fashion, there isn't a lot of umph behind the voice, but the enthusiasm of the words was a joy to hear.

Here's to new adventures and new beginings!

Self Acceptance

2008-08-28T12:40:00.000-07:00

Was out looking for inspiration during my lunch break and found this over at Feeling Stichy. It is the contest winner for the Summer Sampler contest. Not only is the needlework amazing. It has an incredible and beautiful message. One I needed today as gaze at the soda on my desk with disdain. Thinking that food is the root of all evil.

Angel speak

2008-08-22T12:46:00.001-07:00

angel BW 2
Originally uploaded by Pierre the III

Have you ever been in a conversation and said something that surprised you both in the beauty of the words and the beauty of the meaning? I have, and just experienced it again a few minutes ago.

While sitting at lunch talking with some co-workers, a woman I've worked on and off with for over 10 years was talking about an experience with a homeless man. Her question was "Why do they always come to me?"

Without thinking, without pausing, I said..."Maybe you have wings that only the needy can see."

As soon as it was out of my mouth, I was stuck by the words. I've posted before about my own experience with a homeless man and my feeling that he was an angel. Perhaps I haven't thought it through to the end. Maybe, just sometimes, we are the angel that someone else needs.

" Be Positive "

2008-08-21T10:04:00.001-07:00

" Be Positive "
Originally uploaded by SamaKa~Q8 ;*

Found this photo on Flickr today.

It says it all.

I Am Thankful

2008-08-21T07:39:00.001-07:00

The pressure or life has been hard lately, as it can be for all of us, and I think it's time to count my blessings. Today, I'm feeling the need to be thankful.

I am thankful for.....

My husband-That we have survived over 15 years together and we truly love each other more today than we ever have before. How lucky I am to have found him.

My beautiful son-He is growing into such a kind, funny, intelligent man. He is a gift to me.

My sister-What can I say about her? Where would I be without her guidance and support? To quote AA Milne (as Winnie The Pooh) "If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you."

My niece & nephews-There is a love from them that is unlike any other love I've ever experienced. They are my joy.

My brother in law G-If given the chance, I couldn't have picked a better husband for my sister.

My grandparents-There aren't words enough....

My husbands family-There are so many of them! I've gained new siblings and new friends. They love and support me unconditionally. They are exactly what I needed.

Old friends-Becoming new.

Employment-For now, at least I have it.

Starbucks Venti Iced Black Tea with extra ice-A girl has needs!

Figi Water-Water should always taste this good.

Hawaii-It's called paradise for a reason.

Dogs-Just about any dogs. Although I have a few favorites.

My town-As crazy as it can be, it is slow and peaceful.

My mountains-Part of why I love my town.

The Sequoia National Forest-This is heaven to me.

Bird songs-They wake me every morning.

Lexi-Dot-She is crazy. She is 100% cat, but she is a great conversationalist.

Memories-Good and bad-they made me who I am.

Prayer-Nothing has given me more peace than the simple act of praying.

What are you thankful for today?

Another new read

2008-08-19T12:13:00.000-07:00

Just started a new blog in collaberation with my good friend Ferris. Head on over sometime. Thanks!

Conversations With Shen

Purging my brain

2008-08-14T10:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, a third blog of the day. Just needed to share. Put it into words to get it out of my head.

I work for what was once a large company that has recently suffered huge layoffs and worse. My desk is located in one quarter of the 3rd floor of a large office building. This one quarter of one floor used to seat at least 300 people. I am now one of only 10 in this small corner. It has been that way for a few weeks and as depressing as it is, today it is much, much worse. A crew of about 15 people are clearing away the computers, etc. from all of the surrounding desks. I feel like a corpse waiting to be taken to the morgue, watching all of the other dead bodies being carried away. What’s next? Turning off the air conditioner? Shutting of the lights? Cutting off the water? It’s eerie and it’s sad.

Three Favorites

2008-08-14T07:55:00.000-07:00

You know you've been listening to the same morning show for too long when you start recognizing the caller’s voices.

As I was listening to this familiar voice on the radio this morning, they were discussing an interesting topic: If you were stranded on a desert island, what one album (CD for the younguns) would you want with you? We play a similar game around the dinner table. It’s always interesting to hear how the responses change. Especially from Lovey. So here’s the MEME, if you will…..Your Three Favorites-what you want on your desert island.
Three Favorite Albums:
The White Album-The Beatles
All That You Can’t Leave Behind-U2

Feeding Frenzy-Jimmy Buffett

Three Favorite Songs:
Yesterday-The Beatles
Beautiful Day-U2
Over The Rainbow/Wonderful World-Israel Kamakawiwo’ole

Three Favorite Movies:
The Princess Bride
John Hughes 80’s teen movies-a girl can’t pick just one.
O Brother Where Art Thou

Three Favorite Movie Quotes:
“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”
“Blane?! Blane’s not a name, it’s a major appliance!”
“Oh George, not the livestock.”

Three Favorite Books:
Gone With the Wind-Margaret Mitchell
The Time Travelers Wife-Audrey Niffenger (sp?)
Pride & Prejudice-Jane Austen

Now that I’m done…..three is never enough.

“Have fun storming the castle!”

EXTRA! EXTRA!

2008-08-14T07:05:00.000-07:00

For those of you looking for an entertaining read (seriously funny, I mean it)....Head on over to the blog of my friend Ferris and her Tales From the Porch. She's just getting started, but her posts leave you wanting more.

Can You Play? (Long post)

2008-08-13T09:12:00.000-07:00

I have known Ferris since the day I was born. Of course, I don’t remember the day itself, being so small & new, but we’ve been told this as fact. She lived just two doors down from my grandparent’s house. My earliest memories of friendship come from being with her. Playing baseball in the middle of the street (she was going to be the first female Dodger), coming up with crazy plays and dancing to popular music. We went to different schools, and when we were very small, I lived farther away. But we always came together in the summertime. I was the little girl that didn’t make friends easily and she was always a bundle of energy that just pulled me along with her. Adolescence came, and being from completely different worlds, we drifted apart. We ended up going to the same high school, but being in different grades and different circles, we didn’t really “hang out”.

When I was 16, I tried out for cheerleading. To this day, I don’t know what gave me the idea, let alone the courage, to do such a thing. I think I was trying to break out of the shy girl mode, and to break away from people that were anything but friends. Ferris was already in Varsity Cheer and great at it. Somehow I made the JV team and started practicing everyday, becoming totally immersed in the sport. My grandmother, tired of driving me back and forth, asked Ferris to start taking me. We were going to the same place anyway. At first it was awkward. I thought of her as a popular girl and she intimidated me. This lasted for about 15 seconds. Then I realized that she was still Ferris and I was still me. This simple act from my grandmother, and Ferris’ mom I’m sure, was the greatest gift I had been given in my 16 years. I went from having terrible, manipulative, user friends, to having a best friend for the first time in my life.

We became inseparable. We went everywhere together. From taking trips to Fashion Island for the day, to driving 5 minutes to Sav-On. She had a boyfriend, but that didn’t stop of us from always being together. I’m sure they had time with just the two of them, but it must have been rare. We were so linked that her boyfriend had combined our names into one word, long before the Benifer & Brangelinas of the world. Things didn’t really change when we entered college. We remained attached. She had a new boyfriend. Anyone we dated knew we were a box set. You may date her, but you’ll have to be friends with me.

We started dating our husbands within days of each other. At the time, they too were best friends. A mutual friend had intentions of fixing me up with The King and Ferris up with Chas. In fact, Chas liked Ferris, she is more his type. Petite and curvy. God had other plans. Chas was meant for me and The King was meant for her. Things moved quickly with both of us. We didn’t’ drift apart as much as we became adults with adult relationships. We were still somewhat attached however, working at the same place, eating lunch together everyday. When she had her first child, I was there.

Something happened in the next few years. We did drift apart. There wasn’t a specific event that I know of. It was just time and circumstances. It is how life played out. It was time. We needed to become adults independent of each other. We needed to become wives and mothers without the others influence. The time spent apart was too long. There were times when her absence from my life was palpable. Not only did I lack the courage to call her, but I knew in my heart that we were apart for a reason.

Recently, we have reconnected through the persuasion of our husbands. The first night we had dinner together was much like the first day in her car when I was 16. I was scared and nervous. I’d like to say that went away within 15 seconds again, but it didn’t, it lasted a few days. We have let each other in by bits and pieces. We are no where near the best friends we used to be. But, I don’t think we need or want to be. We have husbands for that type of intimacy and closeness.

Ferris believes, and I agree, that we have come into one another’s lives again for a purpose; that we each have something to learn from the other. Each time we have come together we have been at pivotal times. As little girls when we were learning how to make friends, when we were teens and needed the companionship only a best girl friend can give, and now, as adults, nearing our 40’s and the new challenges life will offer. I believe we have the same things to learn from each other that we always have. I need to learn how to be more open and trusting, less shy. I need to learn how to get out into the world rather than staying a homebody. I have things to teach her as well, but that’s for her to discuss. What ever the lessons or reasons are, I am so grateful and blessed that she is in my life again.

Other than my sister, who else knew me in pigtails and red tennis shoes? Who else knows about my deepest high school crushes and wildest dreams? She shared most of my life changing events with me. She watched me and helped me to become who I am today. I’d like to think I helped her too. Someday we’ll be old & gray, but I hope we’ll still call to say “Can you play?”

Sunday Morning Tresspassing

2008-08-10T15:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend my family went to Warner Springs, what could be considered the ancestral home of my husbands family. His grandparents started going there and built a house overlooking the valley well over 50 years ago. The house was sold, sadly, a few years ago. However, at the same time a long missed sister moved back to Southern California and was fortunate to purchase an amazing house in the same neighborhood. We love driving down to visit them for long weekends of food, laughter and love.

This weekend would be no exception. All of the remaining siblings with the exception of one, headed to Warners to honor the birthday and passing of their mother who died 20 years ago. Friday and Saturday passed with the typical relaxation and enjoyment. Golf, swimming, catching a few moments of the Olympics, playing games.

Sunday, however, was a different story. Just this week, my husband and I were talking about how he and his siblings are "rule breakers". They don't break the law (anymore), but the rules for most people simply don't apply. My theory is that coming from such a large family, they think differently about rules that the rest of the world. They say, "What are they going to do, arrest us all?"

When Mom died per her request, her ashes were to be spread at the observatory that can be viewed from the patio of their grandparents pink house in Warner Springs. This would allow all of her children to be able to see her resting spot from the house that they loved, and they feel, it would allow her to keep and eye on them.

Sounds simple enough, drive an hour to the observatory, use one of the hiking trails, and scatter the ashes to the wind. Sure, simple for most people, but not this group. Not only is spreading ashes in a public place like this not permitted, but they strayed from the path, into restricted areas of the observatory so that they could see the road leading to the pink house. This was no small feat considering the number of people involved.

Sunday morning, just after 6am, we planned to follow the rules. We were going to park in the parking lot, hike in, have a picnic breakfast and say a few words of remembrance. After a beautiful drive up high in the mountains, we arrived at the observatory to find it closed until 9am. No matter, we parked our cars (in between two no parking signs mind you) and decided to take the hiking trail. Then we remembered...rattle snakes....probably not a good idea to go tramping through dense brush in the early morning hours of a warm summer day. The sisters turned toward the gate, ignored the large "Authorized Personnel Only" sign and started walking. Every fork in the road, we took the "No Entry" path. This is a large observatory, used by the local, state, and federal government. Just on the other side of the observatory lies a large military base. Not to mention that we were trespassing through mountain areas during a time of high fire danger. Were we really making the right choices?

Upon arriving at one of the smaller domes, they decided that this was the place. Sister J quickly said a few words, Brother B talked of missing his mother on this, her birthday. We held hands and shared the brief sadness. Then, realizing that the opening hour was approaching we dashed back to the "No Parking" zone hoping our cars would still be there.

During the walk back, a large utility truck turned a corner and headed towards us. We all thought that we were caught. We drew a collective breath, all hung our heads and kept walking. My guilty mind thinking..we're going to be arrested! We're all together so who will come bail us out? The truck passed us by of course. No surprise to my husband and his siblings. We made it out of the observatory safely and thankfully our cars remained where we had left them. No tow truck, not so much as a ticket. How do they get away with it?

As we said goodbye and headed back down the mountain, I thought I heard the laughter of a mother at her sweetly misbehaved children.

My latest project

2008-08-07T13:00:00.000-07:00

On my last trip to Idaho, I was in heaven. Although I missed my Sissy and brother in law, I was giddy with excitement at spending the time with just my niecphews. When Minnie was little I took care of her a lot. When Magoo was born, they were all in Idaho and I was completely broke so I didn't get to visit him, much less take care of him. And Monkey....well, Sissy was so sick when he was born and he was so early that I visited them a lot and took care of him. But never have I had them all to myself.

To surprise Sissy & BIL I took pictures of the kids, had them printed in sepia tones and framed. I sat them on her dining table so they would be the first thing they saw when they walked into the house. The 3 photos below are some of the results.

Where Have I Been

2008-08-06T17:41:00.001-07:00

Seriously? Where have I been? Why has it been nearly two years since my last post? I never intended it to be my last. Never made a conscience effort to stop blogging. It just slipped past me.

My sweet Lovey is now 14 and starts high school in September. See how much he has changed! We're all a little bit nervous about this next big step. I have faith though, that together we will make it though.

I'm still living in Southern California. While my dreams of moving to Idaho have certainly not died, I have gained patience. I'm at ease with being where we are now because I know it won't be forever.

I'm still at the same job, although with the mortgage industry being what it is, my job is day to day. It's stressful but I'm trying hard to remain upbeat about the whole thing. So many people have lost their jobs, including friends, that I'm thankful to still have a paycheck and insurance.

My Sissy, who also has not blogged in quite some time, has finally opened her store. A physical location, not just a website. The store is lovely and suits her to a T. I'm so very proud of her. Not everyone gets to realize there dreams in this life and she has.

My niece and nephews are as beautiful as ever. Growing every day. Each call I make to them leaves me in awe at how quickly time passes. Sweet Minnie is 10! She's such a grown up girl now. I miss her being little. Magoo too is growing up. He's such a sweet and caring boy. Monkey is no longer a baby, which is so very sad but also wonderful.

I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful family.

Now, onto the blog-of-it. I think my mission needs to change with the blog. I have finally decided that I need to "find my bliss" so to speak. I need to use the gifts given to me. I am talented and creative and my aim is to start creating and share those creations here. Wish me luck.

Signing off until next time.....

Holiday MEME

2006-11-30T13:07:00.000-08:00

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

2006-11-09T11:23:00.000-08:00

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...

2006-10-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-10T19:23:00.000-07:00

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!

2006-10-08T09:37:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-04T18:01:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-04T17:55:00.000-07:00

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?

2006-10-04T17:22:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-10-02T20:31:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-09-28T07:38:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-09-26T18:19:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-09-19T20:24:00.000-07:00

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

2006-09-07T08:11:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-08-07T19:50:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-08-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

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

2006-06-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

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

2006-06-01T18:11:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-28T10:55:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-27T15:46:00.000-07:00

(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

2006-05-25T18:38:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-23T19:27:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-17T22:54:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-17T22:42:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-07T18:13:00.000-07:00

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 )

Lovey

2006-04-03T17:00:00.000-07:00

(This picture of my Lovey is about a year old, just before his 11th birthday. It's a beautiful picure of him though)
11 years old. I can't believe that my sweet curly headed little boy is 11 years old. Not only that. He's going to be 12 in just a month! How is that possible? There are times, when he's being really sweet, I can still see the chubby cheeks and halo of blonde ringlets and it seems like just yesterday. Other times, when he's being an smart alek, it seems like a million years ago. How does time do that?

I love, Love, LOVE this boy. Everyday he does something to amaze me, teach me, and make me love him even more. He is beautiful. He is smart. He is funny.

Everyday, I feel like I am failing him. How can I possibly be a good enough parent to him? Am I spending too much time with him? Not giving him enough space to grow? Am I spending too little time with him? Leaving him feeling alone?

He loves movies and music. The movies he especially likes always impress me. The Power of One, for example. A movie about the atrocities of apartheid, the ugliness of hatred and bigotry. About the power that one person has to make a change in the world...He has always understood this movie and taken to heart what it was trying to say. That says a lot about who he is. Sure all of the normal boy stuff is there. But inside this child is a heart and soul that understands more than he should. Nothing I've taught him has given him this insight. It was born in him.

He's an only child. Partly because I was and am terrified of bringing another child into this world. (But that's another topic.) Partly because of time and circumstances. Mostly because I truly believe I am not a good enough parent for more than one child. I have a sister who could win the Noble Prize of mothering. How can I compare to that? Not a day goes by that I don't worry that I have let him down. That someday he will realize all that I didn't provide for him and he'll hate me.

I tell him all day, everyday that I love him. Even when he's mad at me, or I'm mad at him. I'm honest with him. I let him know when I think he's made a bad decision. The only thing this beautiful boy ever gets in trouble for is his mouth. He never does anything to get in trouble, just says things. It's not that he swears (at least not in front of me, but being 11 going on 12, I'm pretty sure there have been a few swear words in the company of his friends), or that he says especially mean things. Sometimes they just don't come out very nice. There is rudeness and disrespect in his tone of voice. I have said "Yes, Lovey, I am mad at you, but I still love you" more than I probably should have. I don't want him to think that the way he says "SORRY!" is acceptable. That it doesn't hurt my feelings or make me a little bit angry. I want him to realize that an apology should mean something. It should come from the heart when he says the words "I'm sorry". Sometimes it does. But how do you teach someone that the sound of their words means as much as the word itself?

This boy started life happy. He rarely cried, and when he did it wasn't for long. He slept through the night after just a month or so. Only occasionally waking up. He was happy. He was sweet. He was loving. As a toddler he was perfectly content to sit and look at a book or watch The Lion King. He just wanted to be with me (or his Ta, his 2nd, sometimes 1st, favorite person on the planet).

Something happened when he was 4 though. This is where the terrible twos bloomed late. His temper emerged and when he got mad, there was no dealing with him. We would literally just have to let him go until he got tired. Rationalizing with an angry 4 year old is impossible. That anger leveled off and he returned to his sweet self again. Now, as he approaches his teenage years I can see it looming again. It's a bit terrifying. The things and angry 4 year old will do are much less dangerous than an angry teen. I can only hope and pray that my love will carry him through. I know he loves me madly. We are close and he appreciates that. He knows he is lucky to be able to talk to his mother. I think I am the lucky one.

I know there will be a struggle with his father. They are too similar, to stubborn. I think they both, though unconsciously, harbor a bit of jealousy towards the other one. There is a bit of a competition for my love. They will butt heads. My hope is that their relationship will not be damaged by the coming battle.

A mother of an old friend told me once, that boys always go back to how they started. They just have to struggle through and find the road back She had watched her own boys start out they way they ended up as adults. They struggled. They came back. That road ahead of us seems long. I hold onto her words though. Believing in my heart that the sweetness he has in him will survive. It's still there. I will do everything in my power to foster it, and encourage it to grow.

I think that is what a mother is. A sign post in the road, reminding her children of which direction to take. Watching and letting go a little bit with each year. Jumping in front and waiving a STOP sign when things start to go too scary. Flashing warnings when trouble lies ahead or they're driving too fast. Telling them they are going the right direction That sounds a bit strange now that I see it in print. But I still believe it.

My child makes me sing with joy and sob with despair. He is everything I love and want to protect in the world. He is bird in a cage struggling to break free but where he is safe. He has given me love that I have never before had. He makes me want to be a better person. If only to earn his love and respect.

Glendora Songs

2006-04-01T08:55:00.000-08:00

We all have things we tie to certain times, people or events in our lives. Little time machines that send us back to where we came from. For some it’s a certain smell. Others it may be the way air feels before a thunderstorm. For me it’s music. A certain song can transport me to sitting in my dads truck heading to his house for the weekend. Or to an evening dancing with my mom. I’ve always loved music. Any kind really. Whether it’s because of the beauty of the music, the meaning of the lyrics, or the way it makes me feel.

A long time ago I started to hear specific songs and link it to my childhood. I fondly started referring to these songs as “Glendora Songs”. So named simply because this is where my first real memories come from. Not because it was an especially happy house to live in, just where my mind started to click and hold onto the world around me. These were songs like "Summer In The City" by The Lovin’ Spoonful, or "Monday Monday" by The Mamas & The Papas. No one event comes to mind when I hear them, just a feeling of simplicity and warmth. The sweet anticipation of that giddy feeling when "Black Water" by The Doobie Brothers is playing at the market. I would always be surprised and excited to hear one of these songs on the radio. It was like a gift to be given that feeling. This has gone on for years.

Fast forward to my birthday. We now live in a digital age when any song is just a mouse click away. Gone are albums and the scratchy sounds delivered by a thin needle. We can download whatever we want for less than $1. I’d been thinking for a while, about creating a mixed CD with these “Glendora Songs.” I thought, 20 or so songs, not too many. A good CD for those days when I needed a pick me up, or just felt like singing. This had been sitting in the back of my mind (on the top shelf as my sister would say) for a year or two.

Then, the birthday approached. This is a birthday I’ve been looking forward to. Not only would I be turning 33 (a good number to my mind, what with all those 3’s), but my beautiful sister would be coming to visit. I was determined at that point. What better chance would I have to use my sister’s brain to find those perfect “Glendora” songs? The “Glendora Songs” turned into “Burbank Songs” and “Arcadia Songs”. Then “Oklahoma songs” or “Driving to Dads House” songs, “Meeting our step-mom” songs. “Disco Dancing with Mom” songs. The small list of 20 songs quickly blossomed into a list well over 100. What was even more shocking what that I already owned 90% of this list! (Which brings a questions to mind, one I really don't want answered. Just how much money have I spent on music in my lifetime? !) A few downloads later and 5, FIVE CD's were born.

My sissy and I spent 3 days laughing, singing off key, & laughing some more. I can’t tell you how many times one of us said “I LOVE THAT SONG!” or “Oh my gosh..remember this song!” At this point we were still of the mind that we were creating something only we could love. But as we got deeper into it and the list continued to grow and grow, we started to think, we need to share this. So many of the songs made us think of our dad, others of our mom. I’m pretty sure it was “Blue Bayou” by Linda Ronstadt and “I love a Rainy Night” by Eddie Rabbit that did. Those two songs put our step mom in mind. Her, and her shiny blue Nova, Nellie.

So there you have it. A collection we’ve lovingly named Nellie & The Super Nova for our step mom and Dancing Queen for our mom. The 1st 20 songs are really, what I think is the best. These are the true “Glendora Songs”. This is where we started. Here's the list. Go toRhapsody or Musicmatch, or where ever you listen to music, set up this playlist and enjoy.

Summer In The City by The Lovin Spoonful
Monday Mondy by The Mamas & The Papas
You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' by The Righteous Brothers
Turn Turn Turn by The Byrds
Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Do You Belive in Magic bhy The Lovin' Spoonful
Hotel California by The Eagles
Up On The Roof by The Drifters
Magic Carpet Ride by Steppenwolf
Wild World by Cat Stevens
Black Water by The Doobie Brothers
Sittin' on the Doc of the Bay by Otis Redding
A Horse with No Name by America
Good Lovin' by The Rascals
LA Woman by The Doors
Lay Down Sally by Eric Clapton
Tin Man by America
Cat's in the Cradle by Harry Chapin
Suite: Judy Blue Eyes by Crosby Stills Nash & Young
Let's Stay Together by Al Green

Sick-bleh

2006-03-02T18:03:00.000-08:00

SICK! Gross. Tired of it. Started off as a fever...a I-feel-like-i've-been-run-over-by-a-train fever. Then it was a fever and a cough. Then it was a cough and a sore throat. Then a cough and sinus pressure, now it's just a cough and uhhhhhhh. (Not uhhhh as in I can't figure out what to say, but uhhhhh as in making that sound makes my face feel better.) Oh and let's not forget the explosive sneezing. I don't usually sneeze big. Don't really do those silly, delicate little bird sneezes either, just normal ones. But his cold...this PLAGUE ON MY HOUSE (yes my husband and son have the same thing) causes very loud, very BIG sneezes. Ones that sneak up on you and surprise everyone in the room. At least my eyes have stopped watering, now if I would just manage to breath without sounding like death rattle, I'd be on to something.

better blogging next time.

Nicknames

2006-02-28T18:04:00.000-08:00

At the urging of my much older sister, I have decided to start a blog. Partly because I always do what she tells me to (she will undoubtedly, fall out of her chair laughing when she reads this), and partly because I was so impressed with her postings. While I wouldn't call us overly competitive, there has always been a bit of that to our relationship. So, anything she can do, I can do equally as well.

I've never read a "BLOG" before much less written one. I am totally new to this. Forgive me any errors or mistakes I may make. I'll learn. Not entirely sure how the whole thing works, but hey...I'm full of thoughts. Some funny, some interesting, some probably just plain silly, but this is as good a place as any to share them. Especially since my husband and son usually look at me like I'm insane when I share my ramblings with them.

So who am I? That's a question I seem to ask myself a lot. The answer always changes a bit. There's the me I want to be, the me I'm trying to be, and the me that I end up being. Changing on any given day.

I come from a family full of nicknames. Maybe that's why there are so many "me's". No one is called by there given name unless they are in trouble, or someone is mad at you. And if the word "THAT" appears in front of your name...watch out...THAT means big trouble.

My grandfather has always called me "B Brat". While this may not seem like a loving name, it is. I treasure it. Whether he meant it or not, it's made being 2nd alright. It's his loving way of singling me out. My sister may be "A Brat" but I am "B Brat". Not 2nd, just next. Individual. Together we are "The Girls". Which becomes a bit confusing when the dogs have also always been referred to as the "The Girls", but that's a topic for another time. I'm in my thirties, and he still calls me "B Brat". I hope he never stops. "B Brat" is my grandfathers girl. The one who tells jokes and will do anything to get a laugh from someone she loves. She's the funny part of me.

To my grandmother I am "Peanut". It made sense when I was a skinny 2nd grader who couldn't find pants long enough that would still fit her tiny waist. A bit silly when I was a chubby 12 year old. Downright embarassing as a 17 year old. But as an adult, I'm comfortable with it. I'm glad to have it. "Peanut" is the shy girl, afraid of her own shadow. The one who hides behinds her grandparents legs when a stranger comes around. She is part of me that would rather sit inside and read a book, draw a picture, or watch an old movie instead of face the terrifying world outside.

My mother, at one time (as a chubby 12 year old), tried to nickname me "Butterball". I'm sure you can imagine how that went over. She still tries it every once in a while but I quickly put a stop to it. No matter how old you are, a nickname like "Butterball" just isn't flattering. So she sticks with "Boo Boo Kitty". Not sure how or when it started, but she seems to remember always calling me that. I guess I'll have to accept it. "Boo Boo Kitty" is the smart-aleck. The part of me that mouths off when I should just keep my mouth shut. This is the part of me that gets into trouble. No wonder it comes from my mom.

My Sissy (in itself a nickname since I couldn't say Tammy as a child-to this day I just can't call her that. We'll be old and gray and I'll still be calling her Sissy, like the Baldwin sisters on Waltons Mountain I suppose), calls me a lot of things. Mostly Miche, or Shell. Never Shelley. Never anything embarrassing. Just the names that work. You see, she gave me my name. Michelle . So she has the right to call me anything she wants really. Miche is me. This is the part of me that most of the world sees everyday. This is the girl that loves her family and has a hard time making friends. This the part of me that jumps for joy inside when I'm noticed for something but at the same time is terrified of someone seeing me. This is the part that I'm always trying to improve. The part that's always trying to be better than the Miche today.

Shelley, now that's another story. Family legend says that my father swore no one would ever call me Shelley and that I would be known simply as Michelle. His name was William and he always hated the nickname Billy. I suppose he was trying to save me from the same agony. But, he became the first one to call me Shelley and the name stuck until high school and quickly threw it aside. Only my grandparents, step mother and for some reason, my brother in law still call me that. Woe to anyone else that uses it though. Especially my husband. Shelley is the part of me that is mostly gone. It's the little girl me. The chubby 12 year old. Problem is I've grown into a chubby 32 year old and this shy, awkward girl sometimes creeps back in.

To my husband I am simply Shell, or Honey. Simple. Too the point. Direct. Much like ourselves.

To my beautiful boy, I'm just Mom. When he was very little and spent as much time with my sister as he did with me I was MomTa. He calls my sister Ta so the name became confused. I miss it a bit, but an 11 year old doesn't share much affection that way. Mom is the name I'm most proud of, but also the name that scares me the most. A hard name to figure out, to live up to. This too is a long a difficult topic, one I'm not sure I'm ready to explore in this forum. Mom is my toughest name.

I have the worlds most beautiful niece and nephews. To them I am "Tantie". This is the fun me. I think I'm a pretty good aunt. They love me and I adore them. I'm proud of the aunt I am and that I have earned their love.

To paraphrase from my twittering sisters post, there are many parts of me. I think there are many parts of all of us. Especially women. I think we have so many things that we need to be that we need and use those many different parts. Somedays the parts fit together well. Somedays, we can't seem to hold it all together. But we manage. I do anyway. Days like today when I have a terrible cold and breathing is chore, it's hard. But on those days when my 11 year old boy comes up and hugs me (a very un-cool thing for an 11 year old mind you) I think I'm doing okay.