Overbearing annoying boss

I have been working more than usual lately because my boss is sick. This is my first morning off in a week. When the alarm went off at ten till seven this morning I freaked out. I have to be to work by seven fifteen. Then it hit me like a pleasant wave. I don't have to work until afternoon today. Once I wake my kids up I can crawl back into bed for a while. I am babysitting this morning, so I can't just lay around and read like I want to. I don't mind though because at least I'm not at work. My boss is a real pain in the ass. A year and a half ago my boss moved to a new office. I was happy for her because she is a great lady and this was a promotion she deserved. I wasn't happy about her replacement. I didn't apply for her job, because I'm trying to retire without ever having had a full time job. My current boss is someone I met when I was eighteen. I have known her for years, and there is a reason I quit hanging out with her. Now she is my boss. Great.
I will describe her and everyone of you will know someone just like her. She isn't even an original pain in the ass.
She is smart, but insecure. She tries too hard to make sure everyone knows she is the smartest person in the room, which she usually isn't. If someone asks somebody else a question she jumps in with the answer, right or wrong. If something goes wrong she quickly points fingers and shifts the blame. On top of this she is a horrible gossip, even worse a two-faced gossip. When we were younger she would come over and hang out with a group of women and our babies at my house. We laughed and had fun. One day my neighbor, another one of our group, said to me. "Do you want to know what she said about you the other day." I answered "Only if you want to hear what she said about you." As I got older I realized I have some great friends, so why mess around with one who isn't that great. I put some distance between us that lasted years, until she became my boss.
Luckily we don't work together very often. I am her fill-in so I usually work alone. The other day she came in and was standing on the other side of the counter talking to me when a customer came in. I started the transaction, but hadn't got very far when she took over asking the questions. She made it clear she thought she could do a better job than I could. I bit my lips and let her go, but visualized myself jumping the counter and choking her. I am really considering changing jobs.

I guess I'm not a lesbian

After we had been in Manhattan for a few hours it started to rain. The games that were supposed to be played that night were postponed until the next morning. We hung out in one of the hotel rooms drinking beer until around midnight. It was fun but we could have done that without the seven hour drive. The next morning it was still raining. The tournament was cancelled. No one I know has ever heard of a state tournament ever being cancelled before, but we were there, it happened. Mr. Ice cold Had been so excited about playing at state I was afraid he was going to cry. Several people offered him hugs. Once he had swallowed the lump in his throat and could talk again he said, "I came here to do two things play softball and see some strippers. I'll be doing one of those before I go home."
He and his wife decided drive to Wichita and stay the next night there. They had already paid for a whole weekend of babysitting, so why not. We had two of our kids with us and the other one at Grandma's for the weekend, but dh was opposed to the idea. My sister and her husband decided they were going to Wichita too. Then the couple who had rode with us decided to ride with them so they could go out also. We all went to eat at Famous Dave's BBQ before we left town. Which was amazingly good. I'm not a big BBQ fan, but this was great. Before we left dh changed his mind and we headed to Wichita. The bartender at our hotel was an great lady, she said she was 60, I would have guessed 45. She laughed and joked, we loved her. She ended up slipping us a 12 pack to take up to our room when happy hour was over.
My son picked hooters to eat supper at. I'm worried I may be over exposing him to this softball crowd. Most of them are family though, so what can you do. After we had fed the kids, and settled them in a hotel room with a movie we headed out on our search for a strip club. Some of our party were underage, but they made it in with only one minor complication. A young man with the promise of nudity soon overcame that complication.
Growing up I had many different images of what my adult life would be like. One of those images was me living with my lesbian lover in an apartment with a beautiful view over Portland. A small part of me has never let go of this fantasy. It always seemed to me that life would be much simpler without the drama men cause. Unfortunately, for that dream anyway, I have a very strong attraction to men. I-along with a large number of men-have always wondered though if a women could simply fall into a lesbian lifestyle if they tried it.
Watching the dancers instead of finding myself attracted or even curious I was more amused by the antics of the men around them. I was pleased too, because these women didn't have the perfect bodies Hollywood presents us with they, were just normal women. The men seemed perfectly happy, they were excited by these women. This gave me hope in men in general.
At one point Mr. Ice Cold bought one of the women a lap dance. This woman is a lot of fun, but not really the lap dance type. At one point the dancer lifted up the lady's shirt and fondled her breasts. She started to hyperventilate. To make it worse some of her former students were with us. She was a little freaked out, but put up with it admirably. Later he buys his wife one. Now Peggy prides herself in being cool. She put on a face that was very calm for the whole thing. Her husband went and sat in a chair right next to her. It was funny to watch. I'm just glad I didn't have to do it.
I did however, at the insistence of the first lady, have to put a dollar in my teeth for a dancer and let her rub her breasts in my face. It wasn't sweaty and unpleasant like I thought it would be. It was more like washing your face,not horrible, just something you do and can't wait for it to be over. I closed my eyes and waited for her to finish. The breasts did nothing for me sexually. I had no urge to reach up and feel them, I am officially not a lesbian. Once again I find myself waving goodbye to a dream.

Rain, rain, and more rain.

My niece huggy bear is making it very hard for me to type. I watch her a few days a week when her parents work. Right now she really needs nap and is expressing that by throwing everything she can get her little paws on. I can't be irritated though because she is the cutest thing. A very petite one year old with thick dark hair and huge green/brown eyes. Now that she has calmed down and is hugging me and falling asleep on my chest I can't imagine anything sweeter.

I spent a good part of my childhood in the northwest. The grey skies giving up nice gentle rains that I probably love now more in memory than I actually did then are exactly what I see when I look out my window today. It has been like this for the last four days and I'm loving it. My son, Jason loves this weather. He always says he likes days like this better than sunny days. He is living in the wrong spot. Here in the Midwest we never complain about rain, we just don't get enough to afford ourselves that luxury. Most days can be described as hot, dry, and windy. Our rain usually comes as explosive storms full of thunder, lightening, and tornado warnings. Usually. Last Tuesday we woke to cloud cover. Then the rain started. A nice gentle rain. Around noon I decided I had better do some grocery shopping before we starve. I dropped the kids off at my sisters. Snuck home to finish one last cup of tea and a couple of chapters in a book. When I did leave town it was really raining. I started to speed up to highway speed then remembered my back tires weren't looking so good. I slowed down a bit. Then I noticed I was slowly sliding towards the ditch. The ditch had a few feet of water already collecting in it. I turned my wheel back towards the road, no good I was hydroplaining. Right here I should have straightened my wheel back out, didn't think of that. Then my wheels caught some dry ground. I shot across the middle line. "stay in front of your rear end." I said to myself. I notice a truck coming towards me, he was still a little way off. I swerved back and forth between the lanes trying to get control. The truck was getting closer. I had slowed down quite a bit by now. I headed for the shoulder. When my tires hit the muddy ground I started sliding towards the ditch again. I turned back towards the road and stopped perpendicular with it. After catching my breath and stopping the shakes I pulled out, in low because I was stuck, and headed back home. Later that day I drove the kids around to see all of the water. There were several times when we had to turn around because the roads were under a foot of water. The canal type drainage ditch on the west side of our property was full and the water was two feet deep across most of my yard making it look like one large pond. Jason and Lane built a raft and floated their cousins across it. They were having so much fun I couldn't make them stop when I left for my school board meeting. I called twice to make sure none of them had drowned. 7.5 inches was the final count that day. There are a lot of places where that would be normal, not here. I have been listening to the some of the older people in town and none of them can remember ever getting half of our average yearly rain fall in one day before. Back in the seventies we had five inches in a day once, but we have only had paved roads since the nineties so drainage wasn't as big of a deal. With the paved roads we had a flooding problem in some parts of town. Not enough to rival the places who get real floods, but here where the land is flat knee deep water is impressive. For those of you who have never been to Southwest Kansas let me explain. If you were to come into Kansas from the east you would say to yourself 'It's not that flat. Sure there are no mountains, but there are sloping hills and trees.' Keep driving. When you get out here there are a few rises and slopes, but I can see the lights of towns seventeen miles away at night. When driving on the highway, I can clearly see if I have time to pass a couple of trucks at once. The air and ground are usually so hot and dry in the summer that a couple of hours after a really good rain you can walk out and not even get muddy. Water just seems to soak in and leave no trace. One of my high school teachers once said that she always got cranky as a child when they drove into 'colorful' Colorado and it looked just the same as it does here. You have to drive west a bit before you hit the colorful part of Colorado, and yes we get a bit of a complex some times. I love living here, but I would like a little more water. A river that had actual water in it and wasn't just a sandy river bed with Elms and Cottonwoods would be great too while I'm asking.

The return of Curly top and Princess

I knew it had been a while since I last posted, but I didn't realize it had been eleven days. Part of the confusion is that I have composed a few posts in my head, apparently they never made it here. I'm not sure how to get them all included now. Should there be several separate posts with different topics, or one long rambling post? We'll just have to see how this goes.

I'll start with the return of Curly top and Princess. We went out of town for the weekend. Dh had a state softball tournament in Manhattan, no not that Manhattan. We managed to fit the whole team and their families into four vehicles. Friday morning we loaded up and drove the seven hours. A couple, who are friends of ours, rode with us, so the time passed quickly. The satellite radio helps the ride seem quicker too. When my kids went to Az. They took the radio with them. I had forgotten how much our local radio situation sucks. Electronics have made our life much more interesting. Well, in most cases anyway. Now that cell phones are so common the need for a caravan is gone. Car trouble, just call. Lost, need directions, just call. We could coordinate to meet for lunch with just a couple of calls. They do, however, lead to some silly calls.

"Where are you"
"That spot where trees line both sides of the road."
"That helps"
"Oh, there is a marker. 230"
"I think your a few cars behind us. Tell me when you pass the feedlot sign"
random chatter for a minute.
"There it is. We passed the sign."
"Are you right behind a truck?"
"We are behind a blue pick-up that is behind a truck."
"We are two cars in front of that truck."

Do you think this is what the inventors envisioned?

When we arrived at our hotel my sister walked up to our van. "You got your wish, the girls are coming to live with you." I'm still not sure why she knew about it before me. It doesn't matter, I just wonder if other families work like that. My mom was on her way to pick them up before I was even told. I actually take it as a compliment that nobody felt a need to ask me before they made arrangements. They all knew I would be happy to have two extra kids. Even better their mom, my little sister, is going to move here. I have been trying to get her to do this for a year. My sister is a great mom, but she has chronic depression that is aggravated by substance abuse. When she lived in the same town as me I helped her with free child care, support and I could check on her and the girls regularly. I am so glad she is coming back. Not just for the above reasons, also because I miss her.

My sister and my little brother both prefer to live in cities. They say there is more to do and there are more opportunities for their children. I do partially agree with the latter. My children don't live near an ice skating rink, or have opportunities to play lacrosse or any sports other than the basic five, but those five keep us busy. Oddly though we always seem to be much busier than they do. In a small town most kids participate in everything. There is no pay to play program, no try outs, if you want to play they are happy to have you. On occasion you may even be begged to play. The only thing they do more than us is eat out. When I'm dead tired and supper needs cooked I wish we had some fast food joint down the street, but I'm glad we don't. I'm having enough trouble with my slowing metabolism.

It looks like a compromise several long and rambling posts.

Goodbye chicklit.com

My oatmeal is too hot and I have burned my mouth. With that as my starting sentence I bet you can guess I have nothing interesting to say. I mentioned yesterday that my kids are gone for the week, well without them my life seems pretty boring. The man is gone tonight too, so I honestly thought I should find something exciting to do. Instead I cleaned my bathroom and watched Mean Girls. In a few minutes I'm going to a friends house to drink some wine and probably get a bit of a buzz. I hope I can think of something interesting to say to her.

I am very bummed out today because the best site is closing down. Goodbye chicklit, I'm sure I won't be the only girl out here missing you when your gone.

On Monday night I got an unreasonable craving for chocolate chip cookies. At midnight I decided to just go ahead and make some no matter how much it overworked the a.c.. Of course I was out of brown sugar. Luckily my sister's household is run on a twenty-four hour schedule, or lack of schedule, like mine so I ran over and borrowed some. Earlier that day I had given a bottle of corn syrup to a friend so she could make some cookies. Earl is right that karma knows her stuff. Let me tell you, at one-thirty in the morning cookies hot of the pan with a cold glass of milk are near perfection.
My kids went to bed as I started mixing the ingredients, but not without giving me big hugs. The thought of cookies for breakfast had put them into a euphoric state. I am now very happy that I gave into impulse and did something that made them happy as well as satisfying myself. About two this morning they jumped into a car and headed to Tucson with my mom and sister. Four days without them stretch ahead of me and look really long from here.
While I was baking I had a few thoughts somebody may be able to answer. Why do we have to pack brown sugar? Measuring purposes I'm sure, but could we all just start measuring it loose? On the back of the cream of tartar bottle is says to use 1/8th a tsp. per egg white in meringue. It warns never to use more than that. What happens if you do? Will the world end or will it just be a bad taste? Baking at night may not be a good idea, to many questions.

I worked at the election table on Monday. I was the lady who said, 'Please state your name and address' to everybody who came in. Living in a town of around four hundred people I felt pretty silly. I must not have spoke with much authority because about one out of twenty actually did it. They all just reached down and signed the book. I didn't mind, who would want to hear 135 people I know say their names. I don't know if 135 voters is a good turn out for a primary, but it seemed like a good number. Just as we were finishing up our power went out. It was out until 6:30 the next morning.
I couldn't wait to go for a walk once it night came. With no street lights or stars, it was cloudy, the dark wrapped everything like a wool blanket. After I had been walking awhile my son called me and me to come get him and his two friends so they could walk around town too. We were probably too loud for that late at night, but it was too hot to sleep anyway. When we got home the boys slept on the porch. I thought about joining them, but I was too tired so I laid in my bed and was glad to feel the occasional breeze coming through the open windows.

bread & tea

I spent yesterday baking bread. I suddenly felt like making peach preserves, but I was out of pectin. That is the worst part about not having a grocery store in town. I knew that by the time I drove the twenty minutes there and came back home the mood would have left me. So I decided to wait until after I do my grocery shopping, which I drive forty-five miles (one-way) to do every two weeks.
The bread didn't turn out as good as usual. It tastes delicous, but the crust didn't get as brown and thick as I like. My oven (cob) has sat through a few rainstorms uncovered in the last few weeks. I think I need to do some patchwork on the doorway to stop so much heat from escaping.
Crusty or not my normal breakfast of toast with strawberry jelly tasted extra good today since it was not just a normal slice of store bought bread.
While I was making my tea today, which was Earl Grey, I remembered a scene from a few years ago. My brother was over in the evening and I offered him a cup of green tea. He hesitated and turned it down. Then he added he only liked green tea if it was made just right. I answered "Not quite boiling water, which has been filtered, and steeps for three minutes and no longer?"
"Sure I'd like some then," was his reply. What arrogance to sit in my kitchen and not have faith in me to make a decent pot of tea. I say this in fun my brother is a great guy and his arrogance is part of his charm. Well, most days anyway.

Julia Child gives me hope

For the last two days I have been reading My Life In France by Julia Child. She was in her thirties before she started to learn cooking. She was in her late thirties when she attended Cordon Bleu. I have spent the last five years trying to decide what I want to do when I grow up. While I still haven't decided, I have narrowed down the possibilities, and came up with a list of things I could not stand. No full time office jobs, I can't stand to be trapped inside every day. Nothing that will have me doing the same thing all the time. I need a field where I can always have questions to research and learn about. Flexibility is also a must, I can't stand to miss things because of work. After reading this last book I also know I could never be as involved with food as Julia.
I love to cook and try new recipes, but not at that level. The amount of time and research she put into writing her cook books was phenomenal. I will be the student, but never the teacher. I do realize how lucky I am to have the time to think this out and try different things. I have been given the choice to stay home with my kids while they are young and I never take that for granted.

I haven't abandoned this project, I've been on vacation. We picked up Princess and Curly top in Wichita and went to Kansas City. Ironically another family from our small town had planned the same vacation. Including stopping in Wichita to see his sister. They didn't pick up any extra kids thankfully, we had eight in the group all together. We met them at K.C. and went to Worlds of Fun and Oceans of Fun as a group. With that many kids we had no fighting and only a small amount of whining. We also took them all the The Rainforest Cafe, complete with the chocolate volcano.
One night we left all the kids at the hotel to go the casino. Lee is fourteen so he babysits if we ask nicely. Since I have given up on trying to like gambling I took a book along and got over halfway through it that night. The book was Snappers by Roddy Doyle. It was very funny and I recommend it much more than gambling.

age of exercise

Turning thirty was never a big deal for me. On my twenty-sixth birthday I remember thinking 'I'm closer to thirty than I am to twenty.' It took me a few minutes to come to terms with that thought, but in the end I realized my life was better than it had ever been. I had been acting more like a woman in my thirties than in my twenties since I turned twenty so no big deal. I always think of the years from twenty to twenty-five as the dealing with your childhood age. When ever I talk to somebody bemoaning the mistakes their parents made I remember how old they are. If they are in their twenties I cut them some slack and listen. This behavior is perfectly normal for a person of their age. If they are older than that my eyes glaze over while I think 'get over it already'. Somebody once said, and I wish I could remember who it was and give them credit, "whether your childhood was bad or good, the best thing about it is that it's over."
Now at thirty-two I am at the exercise age. I try to walk three miles every night and have been playing with the idea of running. Last night while I was out walking I saw a friend who is a year younger than me out running. All of the people I have seen on the streets in the last few months flashed through my head. They were split into two groups. One being kids who couldn't catch a ride. The other group were people out walking, running, or biking for exercise. All of the people in that second group were thirty or over. This is the exercise age. Whichever age I'm at, I still have to say six years later my life is still better than it has ever been.

Summer

Baseball season is over. That leaves almost a month of summer vacation left to enjoy. We have not got to the lake yet this summer. Last summer we only went once. Someday we are going to get back to going a couple of times a month from May to September.

Jason won our pool when Germany took Third. I came close to picking Italy, because I sometimes choose my team on countries I would like to visit, damn those patriotic feelings that took over that day. I never did decide who I was going for in the final game I just sat and enjoyed watching both teams play. Now I can't see enough footage of that headbut. That was one hard hit.

I have been on a fantasy reading kick for the last month. I've read the second and third Pendragon books, the first in the Bartimaous trilogy, the first in His Dark Materials, Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, and am now on Eragon. I may need to switch to some classics soon.

Seven Bags of trash!

Seven large trash bags, that is how much trash we hauled out of our yard and the surrounding area on Tuesday morning. Monday night we had our annual block party. Since this is such a small town an actual block party would only be about 16 people, so we block off the streets and invite everybody. It was eight hours of fireworks, food, and drinking. There was something for everybody. The next morning besides all the trash we found a twelve pack of beer, two jackets, three blankets, and a half full baby bottle. There were only a couple of tiny glitches with the party. One was the rain. It sprinkled all night, and flat out rained twice. We carried the food inside during the rainy spots, but for the most part we just stayed out and enjoyed the rain. We don't get moisture often enough in these parts to every wish it away.
The other minor glitch is my husband's jealous nature. Thirteen years ago when we first moved in together I thought it would go away when he realized I was too lazy to have an affair. Unfortunately it has gotten worse as time goes by not better. By the time it raised it's head only the die-hard partiers were left, so I wasn't as embarrassed as I could have been. Without noticing it I had sat too close to a single guy. Without giving out all of the mundane details I'll just say that a good number of the partiers decided to leave with him to a house around the corner. It was already late so as usually happens at a party when one set leaves everybody else decides they should head home to bed also. As the crowd dispersed I walked around to the other house. After grabbing a beer I called some of my friends f**ckers for ditching my party and coming over here. They knew it was all in fun, I completely understand how uncomfortable one jerk can be at a party, he really was killing all of the fun.

After all the excitement on the third it was nice to just lay around on the fourth and watch France beat Portugal. The last two teams from our pool were Germany and Portugal, so the third place game will decide who gets the ten dollars. I was sad when England was put out. Now with these two both being out who will I root for in the final? Any reasons why I should choose either France or Italy?

More lines

That last bad pick-up line has made me think of some of the good things men have said over the years. First off, most of them are compliments instead of pick-up lines, once you've been married fourteen years you don't get a lot of men trying to pick you up. Not openly anyway, a coworker has been trying and he thinks he is being subtle. I'm putting this one in the bad category, so kids don't try this one at home. "Don't be laughing when my phone rings, my wife thinks we are having an affair." This would not be quite so bad except that I happen to be friends with another lady in town he is using the same tactics on. /sarcasm/Wow, this guys is smooth. What is he thinking? 'This is such a good line I'll scatter it machine gun style all over town.'/sarcasm/
A few years ago at a wedding reception I got what I felt was the best compliment ever. It was late most of the people were past there alcohol limit, my husband included. I was standing around waiting for him to finish hugging people, when he introduced me to a friend of his that I had never met. We stood there talking about general things, nothing meaningful, until my d.h. wandered back ready to leave. The friend shook my d.h's hand and said, "I'm glad I finally met your wife." Then he gave me one of those looks that sends electricity through my body and finished with "She's perfect."
In print it doesn't look near as good as it does in my memory. I don't remember the man's name, or even really what he looked like, but that sentence is tattooed on my brain.

Bad storms and lines

We has one hell of a storm come through here last Thursday. Straight line winds at sixty miles an hour with gusts being clocked at eighty. We were driving home from a ball game when we drove into it. There was visibility of a few feet. The rain was coming in sideways. I was really worried about making it home, and I'm not usually worried about those kinds of things.
It blew the roof off of the office where I work. We spent that evening covering everything in plastic. Luckily we got that done in time to save all of our electronics except for one calculator. We have been working out of City Hall temporarily, which has been a real bitch. After a temporary roof and a lot of clean up we are back in the office today. Well, they are, I have the day off. I still have to work at my second job for an hour or two this morning. Other than that my only plans are to play a game of cards with Lane, and take the baby swimming.

Saturday night I heard one of the oddest pick-up lines. We were at a party having a few drinks when one of the girls called a boy to see where he was. He was at the local bar, with her brother, so we decided to walk up and get him. This is a really small place so even though there were only actually about twenty-five people there it seemed really crowded. One guy came up to me, he had that really drunk look in his eyes, put his arm around my shoulders and said, "Are you an idiot, or am I the idiot?"
"It is most certainly you." I answered. That is when he put the wettest sloppiest kiss on my temple. I don't think he is ever going to have much luck with that approach.

Weekend

Saturday evening we went to a b.b.q. at a friends house. We stayed up late drinking beer and laughing. My sides and jaws hurt by 2:00 a.m.. That was a sign it was time to go home. The kids of course were still up playing on the trampoline, why do they never run out of energy? Sunday morning the phone was ringing, and I had the impression it has been ringing a long time before I stumbled in to answer it. My eyes were too blurry to read the caller i.d. so I just took my chances. It was for d.h., a golfing invitation, which he accepted. I crawled into bed and slept three more hours.
When I woke up the boys and I decided to go to the movies. I saw the Lake House and really liked it. Of course I'm a Sandra Bullock fan, why she made Speed II I don't know , but I like most of her movies. We did some grocery shopping and came home to make a father's day supper. My mom and sister came by and ate with us. They had said they weren't going to eat because they had just ate at Applebees. They both ended up eating. D.h. was eating his third enchilada when he said he wasn't hungry either. He had ate lunch at a Mexican restaurant after golfing. That is the power of enchiladas even stuffed people can't resist them.
After supper the boys, my mom, sister, and I went down to the football field and played football, not the American kind. I kicked a ball and hit my mom right in the gut. It startled me for a second and I just stood there. Of course I'm not that strong of a kicker and it didn't hurt at all. Watching my mom run and play out there it made realize how bad I am at categorizing people. She is not just a grandma, she is still a very active person capable of anything. I also realized that sometimes I am too hard on her about things that happened in the past. Her and the six of us siblings came through a trying twenty years, but it is over now and we need to let it go and forgive each others part in it. I always say I have forgiven everything, and some days I have , but occasionally resentment wells up. Life is a process, and I do feel that I'm getting better. We came home and played a game of Clue. I always work hard trying to figure it out and then a ten year old wins on a lucky guess, just as I'm almost there. GRRR.

Football

When I started watching the England/Trinidad-Tobago match yesterday I wasn't sure who I was cheering for. I can't imagine anybody not wanting to see T. & T. Go far. At first it was their story, then seeing how hard those guys were willing to work for it was enough to make me hope they would make it to the 16. We spent quite a bit of time discussing which scenario would be best for both teams to make it, and decided we wanted a tie. When England scored I realized that emotionally I couldn't not want them to win. The neighbors probably heard me jump and yell. Growing up reading so much English literature and watching a bit of BBC makes me feel a kinship with England. Also since they show a bit of English Football here I am familiar with some of the players. If The U.S. gets eliminated I'll still have a team.
You might notice I'm stubbornly not calling it soccer. My boys and I decided the other day that if my generation would switch to calling it football it would be easy for them. The older generations would resist, but gradually it would be changed. What would we call American football then? Well, the name soccer would be available.

Hell

I was laying on the couch with my youngest son, Lane, the other day when we flipped it over to a documentary on hell. We had been watching it for a few minutes when he turned to me and said, "Do you believe in Hell? I don't."
This one sentence sent a rush of questions through my brain. When did he get old enough to think about hell, he's my baby? What is the right answer to that? What else have I been missing out on if I didn't even realize we could be having this conversation? After what was probably too long of a pause I answered him honestly. "No, I don't believe in Hell either."
I am a Christian, but the idea of Hell has always seemed out of synch with a loving God. It does seem in synch with a church bent on controlling its followers. I've quit trying to be logical about it and trying to make my beliefs meld with everything I've been taught. I believe what my senses tell me to believe. I feel more spiritual in my yard then inside of a church. I believe god is all around us, loving instead of condemning. Jesus wasn't a fire an brimstone preacher. He never pushed himself on others. He led, they followed. Maybe the fundamentalists need to reread the red parts of their bible. I think I've been preachy enough for one day, I'll step off my soap box now.

Football, driving, and cooking

I crept out to the computer quietly at nine this morning. My intent was to come straight here while everybody was asleep, I fell by the wayside when I went instead to the Fifa's World Cup sight. I didn't get to watch the match yesterday, but my kids called me and broke the bad news. Not gently either, they laughed. In our family pool I picked the U.S. on a whim. I knew it was a long shot, but Germany, Brazil, and England had already been picked so I thought what the hell. If we don't make it out of the first round I'll have to pick another team to cheer on. We can still pull it out though, let's not throw in the towel yet.
If the need to pick a new team arises I have a quite a few good choices. Germany of course, because in 2002 I developed an inexplicable crush on a few of their players. Remember the goal keeper from Turkey? He was hot. Australia looks good, and I like to root for underdogs. I might just switch to Portugal, who Lee picked. So far my team is the only one picked who lost their first game. It'll be fun watching this whole thing play out, even if we are out in the first round.

Yesterday was one of those days spent mostly sitting. I started off at seven with an hour in front of my computer at the office, then after a shower I hopped in my van. After a ninety minute drive to Garden City, three hours taking an exam, ninety minute drive home, twenty minute drive to drop Jason off at baseball practice, twenty minute drive home, straight to school board meeting, my three mile walk last night was very refreshing. My legs needed to stretch out after so many hours on my ass.

I dreamed about cooking last night. In my dream I made a cut of meat called deerhart, it wasn't really a heart, it was really more like brisket. Julia Child was showing me how to serve it. Somebody knocked on the door and she screamed at them to leave then explained to us that the meat was very tender just now but would toughen up as it sat so we were eat immediately and that we shouldn't have to listen to that damn knocking while we enjoyed our meal. I woke up with a desire to cook something. The lack of groceries in our house is going to present one problem. The other problem is lack of time, we have to be in Elkhart at 4:30 for a couple of baseball games. We will be lucky to make it home by 10:00. I may make something that can be waiting for us, or we may just pick up pizza.

Summer reading

No not the program my kids go to at the library, what I'm reading this summer. I have been trying to read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, but I just can't stick with it. I can't read something sad and dense in the summer. Maybe my reading can't be contradicted by all of the light around me. I am taking it back to the library today. I'm not checking anything new out though because Lee has assigned me some books to read. When this role reversal took place I'm not sure, but here we are. The first book from the stack was The Amulet of Samarkand. I started it on Monday night and am already halfway through it.
No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't sink my teeth into The Jungle. I was beginning to suspect I was going through some sort of reading deficiency. I'll try it again this Winter. All Winter I was struggling to get into a memoir called Extra Virgin, now that summer is here I've been breezing through it.

On a totally unrelated note, The boys and I started weight lifting two nights ago. I'm easing my way into it, to avoid soreness. I seem to be filling my time with recreational activities. I really need to get some work done.

Dates

Tomorrow is a friend from grade schools birthday. I haven't seen her in almost twenty years, yet every June seventh I think 'hey, it's Terra's birthday.' Why is this date stuck in my head when I can't remember my brother's wife or kids birthdays? I don't know for sure when my anniversary is. Sometime in February is the closest I can guess.
I remember Becca's birthday too, another friend. December 31st, she is a Capicorn. Terra is a Gemini, but I can remember not one of my three kids astroligical signs. Maybe that is because I cared more about those sort of things back then.

Pizza party

It is glorious when a party goes off really well. I built a cob oven a few years ago and have been planning to have a pizza party since before it was done. When I am waiting for everything to be ready before I do something it never gets done. That is why two years later I still had not had a pizza party. Friday I just started inviting people to come over on Sunday. My house was a total disaster, and I had no toppings. I went shopping that night. On Sunday morning we all five pitched in and cleaned until two, which is when the party started.
Whenever a party is thrown there is a chance it wont all come together. People may not show up, or they may show up and not be in a festive mood. The food may not turn out. The combined group may not find that they have enough to talk about. That is why impromptu parties are my favorite. These factors are there, so there is a party, unlike a planned party, which can seemed forced. A theme party must usually be planned though, so I planned a party. The moment I realized it was working was when I came inside carrying the fourth pizza in from the oven. I stopped and looked around and three different groups having very spirited discussions, all laughing and talking, and everybody with a slice of pizza or a breadstick in their hand. I put down the pizza that was starting to burn my hand even through the pot holder, spiked a glass of sweet tea, and sat down to enjoy one of the conversations.

Princess and Curly top

I took my girls home last Saturday. My house seems so empty now. Who would have thought that going from a family of seven to a family of five could make such a big difference? So now my life is back, you remember the one I wasn't sure if I wanted to give up, and I don't have any idea what to do with it. Free time is a problem that works itself out. Just when I start to enjoy it something new will come up.

I miss having somebody to take to the pool, and somebody to kiss good night, and climb into my bed in the middle of the night. I miss watching them ride their bikes, curling them into my lap when we watched t.v., making somebody so happy they jumped up and down just by offering them ice cream.

I don't miss changing the sheets in the middle of the night when one of them wet my bed. There are not many ways worse to be woke up than by slowly realizing that the warm liquid soaking into your t-shirt is urine. I don't miss having to find a babysitter when I have to work. Every one of the things on this list are worth it if I can have the things in the first list.

Really though what I want the most is for them to live with their mother because that is what is best for the three of them.

Genetics

I am trying to get a hair appointment today. For now I just need a cut, but I know in the near future I'm going to need to start getting it colored. I usually wear my hair down and a few gray hairs are noticeable. I pulled it into a pony tail on Sunday and suddenly I had several gray hairs. My kids and sister kept trying to pull them out. The reason they don't show as much when I wear my hair down is because I am graying around the temples, a look I like on guys. Unfortunately it doesn't make me look distinguished. I don't know what the average age for gray hair is, but thirty-two just seems a tad early. That is the genetic curse we get from my dad and his family. He started getting gray hair at eighteen. My brother, who is three years older than me, has been coloring to cover up his gray for at least ten years. There are much worse problems to have so I really can't complain too much.
My mom and her family have passed on a young looking face and an extraordinary amount of facial hair. If I didn't wax every few days I would be sporting quite a mustache. Without plucking there would be a uni-brow on my forehead. I'm making myself sound quite attractive, aren't I. The amount of pain we go to for beauty has always been amazing to me. I'm not even a girly-girl, and I go through a lot.

Am I really an adult?

Yesterday summer smacked me in the face. In the morning was the end of school playday, followed by the end of year picnic. The pool opened at one so I took the kids swimming. In the evening we went and watched my middle son, Jason, play baseball. It was at his game, while eating a swirled cup of ice cream that it hit me; summer is really here. Once the kids are in school the calendar year no longer holds sway. The school year is what really defines the seasons for us.

This morning I dropped Lee of for his first day at work. He has had odd jobs around town occasionally, but now that he is fourteen he has entered the temporary work force. I officially have a high schooler now. How odd is that? Some days when I show up at a school board meeting I still feel like a child posing as an adult. Making phone calls really gets to me. I always have to practice. Imagine walking in on me and catching me saying 'hello, I need to make an appointment for tomorrow' while the phone is still laying safely in its cradle. That does remind me of a story a man once told me. He heard the phone ringing so he looked into his fathers room as he walked by. His father was sitting on his bed saying 'hello, hello, hello,' practicing before he answered the phone. The reason that story has stuck in my head for the past ten years is that the father is a successful business man in our community. Does he sometimes feel like an imposter too?

Growing up poor the only time I went into utility offices was with my mother when she was trying to talk them out of disconnecting us. Banks were something very foreign. You didn't need a bank for food stamps, and all cash was spent to quickly to worry about checks. Still to this day going into a utility office or a bank makes me feel weird. So far I have never been able to talk to a loan officer on an even level. As a reasonable person in a small town I know that they are normal people. Living in a small town I talk to these same people in social events with no problem, but walking into a bank lobby makes me feel like a poor little kid with no business in a place like that. When I first started talking about building an unconventional house I was explaining to a friend that I would most likely have to do it without borrowing money because banks don't like to loan money on a project like this. She, who has always put way more faith in me than any sane person should, replied that as articulate as I am and with all the research I had done I could get them to see the benefits of this project. She grew up with a very stable childhood, in a well off farming community, with parents who made a decent amount of money. There was no way I could get her to understand how a person, no matter what their life is like now, cannot shake the divisions they felt in childhood. She would never sit in a bank chair and feel her stomach not up and her tongue tie itself into knots. So I just said 'maybe'.

School is almost out!

"If I had a blog I would post regularly"... Yes, I have said this to myself when reading someone else's blog. Yet here I am not posting regularly.

We are in the middle of the end of the school year race. Music programs, award shows, graduations, when will it end? Next week, yea! Then we will be going into June which is full of ball games and practices.

I just found out an acquaintance of mine has wrote a book. It is Growing Up with Roy and can be found at www.lulu.com/conrardy. I was making plans to buy this book today when a thought hit me, 'what if I don't like it?'. I'm sure everybody who knows an author has had this same dilemma. If you read it and don't like it what do you say? Since this is actually one of my favorite types of book to read I'll probably have the opposite problem. When I read a memoir I feel really close to the author. I'll be acting like we're best friends, practically family, and this poor guy will be trying to avoid the kinda creepy lady from down the street.

Don't become boring

I know a girl who used to be smart, fun, energetic, and creative. Over the past six months she has become a complete boor. What horrible drug has done this to her? The attention of boys. I may be being overly harsh on her, but that is truly the saddest trait the females of our species have. It irritates me in other women and I loathe it when I find it in myself. There may be a few women out there who don't have to fight this part of human nature, but most of us do at one point or another.
When asked if she would like to go somewhere, I can see the wheels turning in her head. She is thinking will he be there, or will he stop by or call while I'm out? Other conversation, about things that used to fascinate her wont hold her attention. She only wants to sit in a corner and daydream about the boy. Instead of using her time to plan and create great projects, like she used to, she plans where he will be and how she can casually run into him. 'What will I say?' she wonders. 'How will he respond?' If only she could see that in real life he isn't near as interesting to talk to as she imagines him to be. I'm not being mean here, very few could be that interesting, except maybe her. Perhaps I'm just being jealous, but I hate to see my friend throw so many projects to the side, and I'm worried about how foolish she will feel when she comes to her senses.
I should not worry too much, because she has a wonderful sense of humor. She has warned many young woman. 'When a man first notices you he sees you living your life for yourself. You are fascinating to him. Then you notice him noticing you, and you become obsessed with making sure he continues to notice you. You stop doing all the things that he first noticed about you. You quit living your life and become boring. Why would he stay interested in a boring woman?' She will see the irony in the very girl who said this becoming boring for a boy.

Panini

I have been very unfaithful lately about blogging. Posts are thought up, just never typed. Damn privacy issues are holding me back.

I have been filling in at a different office for the last few weeks, and I love it. They people who I've been working with have mentioned me trying to get transferred over there. I am tempted to do it. The only real reason not to is the difference between walking a few blocks and driving seventeen miles. Eating out is another one. Right now I walk home to eat, which is much cheaper and nicer. With an hour lunch break I can even squeeze a nap in if I really need it. Of course more money and a more pleasant boss are tempting me.

On Monday I tried a new place to eat, Two Girls and a Coffee Shop. They serve Panini sandwiches, soup, and salad. I ordered the portebello and mozzarella, which is one dollar more. For $5.95 you can get a whole sandwich or a half with either soup or salad. Since breakfast is always sacrificed for an extra ten minutes of sleep I ordered the whole sandwich. The cappuccino brownie I ordered because it looked so damn good. These two things and a bottle of water cost $10.95. I was a little shocked at the price, but both the sandwich and brownie were huge. I didn't eat again until breakfast the next day. For a whole days worth of food that is a pretty decent price.

After reading through this post, I must say it has been brought to you today by the word damn.

Easter?

Easter this year didn't feel like Easter at all. I had a great day, just not like a holiday should be. The most noticeable change was that we didn't have a sunrise service at church. We have a new preacher and he didn't want to do any of the things we usually do. We usually have a sunrise service, a breakfast, an Easter egg hunt, then morning services at 10:00 so everybody can get home to their families. This year it was just like every other Sunday, complete with me feeling no need to go to church.
At 11:oo I had already pulled the turkey out of the oven, started the potato salad, and sliced strawberries for shortcake. My younger sister called. She had got a d.u.i. the night before. Could I please go to Mom's get some proof of insurance, bring it to her, and drive her to get her car out of the impound lot? I got in my car to make the 35 mile drive to where she lives and realized it was a beautiful day for a drive.
The sun was shining, the young wheat fields were bright green, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Even the cows looked picturesque. I turned up the radio and took off. Hold on loosely came on. This song is one of my guilty pleasures. Not that liking this song is a guilty pleasure, most people do. How I respond to it is the guilty part. When I'm alone I turn it up too loud and sing at the top of my lungs. Who could not be having a great time on a day like this, listening to music like this? While waiting for the guy to come and unlock the gate I told my sister about my latest mistake. We laughed at ourselves, it made us feel better. My brother rode home with me, I turned the music down, and we had good conversation. See, it was a great day, just not like Easter.
The girls had went to Spend the week with their mom, so the only kids who hunted eggs were my 10 year old son, and his 8 & 10 year old cousins. The three of them didn't get into finding eggs. They did it, just not with the joy I wanted to see.

Birthday party

My son is having a sleepover tomorrow for his birthday. There is no way I can let ten boys have the run of this place without cleaning it up a bit. I have to go grocery shopping before I can start baking his cake, and wouldn't you know it I agreed to help with a track meet tonight. It will probably be ten o'clock before I head to the store tonight, a forty-five minute drive.
For some reason I quit in the middle of this post. I made it through the party. They drank three cases of pop, and were playing tag in the house at five in the morning. I think this means the party was a success. The cake, if I do say so myself, turned out great. We made it into a wrestling ring with a raised platform and licorice ropes.

It was a beautiful day here, once the wind died down of course. We have been having our usual spring gales for the last few days. This evening it calmed down and was just perfect for playing outside. This seemed to be the general consensus around town; the streets were crawling with people. In the winter I take my walks late. After the kids are cleaned, fed and in bed I head out for a few miles. It is so quite, nobody else is walking, and really only a few random cars are seen. It is totally different in the Spring and Summer. We become a town of night people.
We are in track season now. I'm secretly glad I had to work today, track is my least favorite sport to attend in person. Those damn meets take all day.
tomorrow is the Easter egg hunt. I volunteered to take cookies. I also am supposed to be taking cupcakes to my son's class for his birthday. That means I'll be spending my night baking. I could have done that this evening, but who could drag themselves inside on a day like today?

Ahh, a hot shower.

ARGH! We had a water leak yesterday, and ended up having to replace the sheet rock on one wall. What a mess. I've skipped showers now and again on a grungy weekend spent laying around and snacking with the kids all day, but somehow when I just can't have a shower it really bugs me. Nothing felt so good as finally being all clean and freshly shaven.
Today I'm showing the Girl Scouts how to bake bread. I am about to go in and start some dough for my switch out. There is no other feeling quite like kneading bread. Afterwards I'll take another shower.

Consequences

I am hanging in limbo, dreading that the consequences of my actions will catch up with me. I am not going to confess here about my mistakes, but I needed to say something about why I can't seem to put any other kind of post together. I have never been a really patient person. When there is a problem I like to get it taken care of as quickly as possible, while keeping the ball in my court.
The basic problem I am facing here is the speed of rumor, while hoping it just dies out for lack of interest. That leaves me here just sitting and waiting. The dull pain of dread sitting in the bottom of my stomach seems to be here to stay. In my mind I know that since there is nothing I can I do I should just let it go and get on with my life. My mind doesn't seem to be able to do that just yet. I think I'll let myself obsess for three more days, then convince myself I'm out of the proverbial woods.

Embarrassing weekend

For the last few weeks I have been really in the mood to 'tie one on'. Some how drinking enough to really loosen up and act extremely silly is a great stress reducer. I am normally a reserved person. I act goofy, but am always in control. Actually, I am a tad bit controlling in several areas.
I had mentioned this mood to a friend of mine last week. When I saw her Sunday afternoon she said. "Well you did the the job well last night." If she only knew it got worse.
The four of us went to a bar-b-que Saturday night. It is an annual thing with calf fries and wild hog. The food is good, and everyone brings plenty to drink. As the night wore on we added Hemingway proportions of wine to Nascar levels of beer. I got loud, and flirty, told dirty jokes, laughed. Oh, was I embarrassed Sunday morning.
I talked to my sister who lives in a bigger town. She had coincidentally done about the same thing on Saturday night. She said she was planning to avoid anybody who had been out with her for a few weeks. That is the problem with a small community, I have nowhere to hide. My letting go happened with one of my son's teachers, three other school board members, the ladies who work at the store, people who go to church with me, and everybody else I see on a daily basis. I laid really low yesterday, but now life goes on.
This is all the part my friend knows about. When we got back into town at 2:00 a.m. I wasn't ready to quit. I went for a walk and found some more people still out. I finally poured myself into bed at 4:00. I did however have the presence of mind to drink plenty of water first. I survived hang over free, which I really didn't deserve.
I'm not sure if I made any enemies that night or not. Hopefully people will be understanding.

Court date

I went to testify in court today about a fight that took place in the skating rink months ago. The irritating part is that no fight ever happened. Two boys pushed towards each other to start one, but it never went any farther than that. Of course one of the parents decided to press assault charges. I gave up a perfectly good morning to drive to the next town. I was afraid it was going to take all day, but charges were dropped and I was back within two hours. I didn't go straight home because I needed to discuss the state of humanity with my sister. Which is one of the great advantages of having sisters.
I've witnessed some very objectional, in my opinion, parenting styles in the last few days. I'm not talking about small differences like bedtimes, or nutrition choices. These are much bigger ones like condoning stealing from friends and relatives, or not knowing or caring where your five year old is after dark. These type of things make me sad.
Now I'm not one of those people who think the world is getting worse. I honestly think we as a society are getting better and those who think otherwise are romanticizing the past. Our weapons are worse, which amplifies our violent nature, but honestly we at least recognize the fact that violence against a wife and kids is a crime, not an unfortunate event, or a man's right.
I just think we could do better. Most parents do their best to instill a moral code in their children, but what can we do for the children who are falling through the cracks? I'm sure I'm not the only person who has seen a child come from an unbelievable childhood and grow into perfectly charming adults. What is the key, where did they learn morals if they weren't taught at home? Books? Movies?

Cheese sandwich blog, I'm okay with that

I read an article about blogs in Food & Wine magazine last month. They were talking about food blogs and mine is definitely not a food blog, but it did seem to be on par with a cheese sandwich blog. Which is a type of blog they didn't think highly of. Their description of a cheese sandwich blog was a blog that never left the writers dorm room.
Now I do not have, nor have I ever had a dorm room, but my blog does not leave my small town very often. I don't explore many outside issues unless they are an issue I have been thinking about during my day. This is the type of blog I enjoy reading though, so I cringed for a minute than got over it.
The blogs I enjoy reading the most are wrote by people who live in different regions than me and have made different choices than I have. I know what it is like to live in a small town in the Midwest. Up until I started reading Will Wheaton's blog I had no idea what life was like for an actor/writer in the L.A. area. The only things I know about working in the web design field, also in Ca., I learned from http://www.pocketpig.com. Now that the Croation Sensation, http://stefsertich.blogspot.com has committed to moving to New York. I hope she posts more often so I can live vicariously on the east coast too.

Late night cookies

I was late for work this evening because I was talking to friends over a glass of wine and forgot to watch the clock. Running down the street, into my house and changing clothes was made tricky by my slight drunkenness. Fortunately I was only a few minutes late. Having a teenager learning to drive is nice; an eager designated driver at my beck and call.
Last night some of my friends sat around and drank while I was at work. I joined them, but they were only good for another half and hour. I was really in the mood to lose control, but not alone. After this afternoon I was all set to do it tonight, but I was foiled again. Nobody was doing anything tonight except my sister and her husband and they wanted me to babysit so they could go out together. Guess what I'm doing?
If I lived in a house of adults this would be a night of midnight margeritas. Instead it was a night of one o'clock cookies. We made double chocolate cookies and ate them hot off the pan with cold milk.

Privacy scare

As I mentioned in my first post, I'm a bit of a privacy freak. The thought of somebody reading anything I write freezes me. I know this stems from growing up in a large family, with a mother who searched my room for any little note she could read. The more she pried the more I guarded myself. Now I have a husband with the same need to know. After years of this I am living in a cage of my own making that gets tighter every year.
The more I blog the more I like this format. For long ramblings I still use my archaic journal, but for putting thoughts into order this works much better. The problem with both types is keeping them private. My journal has been found and read. Despite new hiding places, and much screaming I'm not sure it still isn't being read. On March 6th the day I started my last post I was asked about my blog. In his defense, he thinks I must be using the internet to meet men. He wanted to know where he could go to read it and was angry/hurt when I wouldn't tell him. I told him I deleted the whole thing, and really I did plan to follow through. The problem is I don't want to. So I have just been staying away while I made a decision. I'm kidding myself by saying there was a decision,I need the little forms of expression, without them I never get to leave my cage.

Communion

We took communion in church yesterday. Every time I take my glass of grape juice from the tray I think about how cool it would be to be Catholic. To believe that a drink of wine actually turned into Jesus' s blood would be great, and slightly cannibalistic. Forgive me if they don't believe that anymore, I have read that they do, but realize I could be wrong. Anyway communion is always slightly comical for our family. A few years ago I whispered this thought about the blood to my oldest son, Lee, right before the juice was passed. While we were holding our glasses waiting for everyone to get one he spilled his drink. He whispered to me that Jesus better be forgiving, what with him walking around all day his blood on his jeans.
Yesterday we all took our little piece of bread and were holding it while the preacher was praying over it. I dropped mine and it slipped down the front of my dress into my bra. I'm sure I didn't look to pious groping my own chest during church.

Drinks and pictures

Last night I took a night off from the Skating Rink to watch my sons' basketball game. It was so nice to have a Friday night off. To celebrate we went to my sister's house to play cards. After a few Bacardi and cranberry juice drinks we think we are very funny. I become quite the smartass when mixed with alcohol. I hope nobody was hurt.
After I went home I realized I was still to drunk to go to bed so I went for a walk. It was cold outside and I probably would have made it home much sooner but found somebody to talk to. I also talk way too much when drinking. I made it to bed at 3:00 A.M. and had to be up at 6:30 A.M. to go to work. (that is me whining)
After I came home from the Skating Rink tonight we started going through a tub of old pictures. I can't think of anything to do more fun than that. Looking through old pictures always makes me laugh and appreciate my life. It really has been blessed.
Good night I'm going to bed.

Things that I love

I was watering the grapevines in my back yard when I noticed a smell that I have always loved. My dryer vents into my backyard and the smell of hot dryer lint was filling the air. I can't explain what is so nice about the smell, but love it.
Later in the day I was loading more clothes into my dryer when I noticed that I could hear a lot of birds chirping. I stuck my head out my back door and sure enough up in the leafless elm tree were what looked like hundreds of birds. Loving the sound of birds is not unusual at all, but it is unfortunate for all the caged birds.
'Shake That' by Eminem has been stuck in my head for a week. Before my kids were old enough to pick their own music a little bit of Run DMC and the Beastie Boys was my only real exposure to rap or hip hop. Now at least 40% of what I listen to falls into these categories. Most people wouldn't guess that I love this song.

What I don't love is when I leave the room and a four year old publishes my blog in the middle of a post.

An activity or two

Last night was the county spelling bee. I'm sure the first level of hell is a spelling bee. Two of my sons were participants. The same two have a scholars bowl meet today. Now scholars bowl is fun to watch, so I don't dread going to this. The only problem is that they have four meets this week. I went to Monday's and am going tonight. Saturday is league and I have to work so I'll be missing that one. The question is am I going tomorrow?

Breakfast

The best thing about making French bread on a weekend is French toast later in the week. Nice thick slices of French toast, with a custardy center, covered in syrup, tasty.
I have really been slacking off this winter. Very few of the things I planned to accomplish have been. I didn't go back to bed this morning, instead I practiced belly dancing and made a to do list.
I am a list person. My sister once asked me why I wasted my time making a list, why not just get up and start working. She is not a list person. Never, since time began, has a list person successfully explained the need for a list to a nonlist person.

Car pooling

I woke up this morning trying to decide if I should drive the two hours to watch my boys compete in a scholars bowl meet. I know a good parent wouldn't even question it they would just go, but I really didn't feel like a two hour drive. After going back to sleep and waking up at 10 I was thinking clearer. Why not ask somebody to car pool? I ran through the list of parents I usually see at these things and picked out a couple I wouldn't mind riding with.
The lady I ended up riding with was actually one of the grandmothers who go to most meets. She is a nice lady and we had a good car ride. When I first approached her with this idea we thought her husband would be going too. I was picturing myself relaxing in the back seat reading. Then her husband ended up staying home. Don't get me wrong the conversation was great and we stopped to eat at Cattleman's. I had a marinated chicken salad and a slice of apple pie with cinnamon ice cream. I just missed that extra reading time. Also a car ride is the perfect time to just let your mind wander. When I start doing that with somebody else I worry that they think I'm bored and feel the need to entertain me. How do you know if the other person agrees with this being a companionable silence?
By the way we took two teams and they took first and second place.

A lovely sunday

Has it really been six days since I posted last? The last few days have been busy, so I can excuse them. Before that though I just had trouble finding any private time to post. I work Friday and Saturday nights at the skating rink. Saturday morning I work at the post office.
Yesterday in between my two Saturday jobs I went and watched two of my sons play in a basketball tournament. They played really well, I was very proud of them.
In between ball games I finished up The Constant Princess by Philippa Gregory. I have read that other readers have not enjoyed this one as much as The Other Bolyen Girl, but I really did like it. I can see that this one reads a little more like a history book. So if you are in the mood for something that feels like pure fiction this book may be disappointing. If like me you like a lot of history mixed in with your fiction this is a good read. Curiously I have criticized Jean M. Auel for doing the same thing I am defending Philippa for doing.
I think the Clan Of The Cave Bear series lost their appeal when she started adding in more historical fact and lost the flow of the story. If during a story you stop and say 'wow, she really did some research here.' you may as well be reading a history book.
I had a dinner party here this afternoon. That meant grocery shopping had to be squeezed in at some point. I had planned to go Friday morning, but I ended up babysitting and driving my number 2 sister home, (two hours one way) so that day was out. I left Saturday night around 11:30 for the 45 minute drive to the store. I made it back at 2:00 a.m., put up groceries and started the brisket. It cooked for 5 hours while I slept.
This morning I woke up and made bread dough so it could rise while I was at church. If I didn't teach Sunday School I may have skipped today. The house smelled so good this morning it was hard to leave. I really needed to clean up a little bit too, but decided to just rush through it later.
After church I gave the kids left over peanut butter/chocolate candy for breakfast, yeah, we're real nutritionists here, and started rushing through the cleaning and bread baking.
The bread turned out really good. It was French bread made with half stone ground wheat flour and half white flour. The brisket juice must have leaked out on the bottom of my oven, because by the time my guest showed up the house was filling with smoke and the fire alarm was blaring. We opened up all of the doors while they poured us all a glass of white wine.
The wine was actually the reason we were having dinner. Last month on our way home from Cripple Creek we stopped at a little shop to taste some wine. We split the cost of a bottle of riesling/Chardonnay from Colorado and decided to share it over dinner. This was the first day we all could get together to drink it. My number 1 sister (ranking is done purely by birth order)and her husband weren't with us on the trip, but I rarely have anything at my house without making sure they can make it. Not only is my sister my best friend they are the most fun couple I know.
The party turned out great. We ate and drank our white wine and another bottle of red my sister had picked up. We talked and laughed for hours. My mom and brother stopped by after we had already started eating, we had plenty of food so they fixed a plate and hung out with us. My brother brought me a wine journal, which we started filling out as soon as the table was cleared. After everybody had left there were some evening hours left with nothing left to do but relax. I am going to go in and start A handmaid's tale by Margaret Atwood.

Communal family

My sister is staying with us and suffering from a massive case of insomnia. We are reaping the rewards; my house has not been this clean in ages. I always imagined having someone else stay in our house with us would get on my nerves simply because I prefer to be alone. Actually it has been very pleasant. I have started getting up earlier to have some time to myself. This has made me more productive in general. I am trying to talk her into moving in with us permanently, but she wants me to move in with her instead. We are at an impasse.
I have always saw the benefits of building a separate houses all connected to a central kitchen and having my whole family move in with me. As the years go by I like the idea more and more. We are a close family so I believe it would work. Sure we would all get on each others nerves now and again. That would be the time to retreat into our separate little houses and lock the door to the kitchen.

/Rant/

http:///sofakingsilly.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-kids-are-perfect.html

I was determined not to use this only as a space to vent, but not that determined so let's go.
At the skating rink last week two boys got into a fight. The instigator of this fight is what I call a passive/aggressive bully. He hits kids when they aren't looking, lies, and tries to get people in trouble. He only fights kids smaller than him, and still usually loses.

He threw a hockey puck at the back of another kid's head. This other kid is sitting in a chair texting when he is hit. He then does what most jr. high boys would do and throws the puck back. The instigator then attacks him physically. He once again does what most boys would do and starts kicking the instigator's ass.
Now of course this is not the fault of the boy who threw the puck first or who threw the first punch. At first it was the fault of the other boy. The instigator's mother, we'll call her b.f.D.G., goes to the home of the first boy and starts to chew him out. Until his mother comes out and lines her out. Okay, she can't bully this kid, so who's fault will it be. Now it is the fault of another boy that was there. His parents are quiet immigrants who don't speak English.
He manipulated and intimidated this fight into existence from his seat. He could do this because he is a powerful gang leader. Most Saturday nights you will find him and his friends sitting at a small town skating rink texting girls. That is one lame ass gang.

Last night at a board meeting she told lied repeatedly, flat out making things up at some points. It came down to the fact that I was a horrible manager because I wouldn't kick out every kid that doesn't get along with her son. Luckily in a small town reputations will usually speak for themselves, so no one took her seriously. With people like her in town though it makes it hard for anyone to step out and try to help the youth, because it is just setting yourself up as a target.

Surprise party

My oldest son is in the eighth grade. Tomorrow is his birthday,and all the celebration he wants is to go to the movies. That part of him growing up is great. I'd rather go to the movies than have a party for a bunch of little kids any day. That said, I am still a little sad at him being to grown up to take cupcakes for school. The other night I was lying in bed remembering how when he was little he wanted the same dirt cakes with worms every year. The last few years he has just had me order pizza for his class at lunch time, but now he thinks he is even too old for that.
That night I decided I needed one more party before high school. I would make dirt cupcakes and surprise him at school. Tonight after everyone went to sleep I was frosting them. Wouldn't you know it he picked tonight to wake up and wander into the kitchen. "Those better not show up at school" He said with a scowl. Luckily I hadn't started adding the worms or dirt yet, those will still be a surprise.

'My kids are perfect'

We are in the middle of an epidemic in my parts. Since time began there have always been a few of those parents with that 'my children can do no wrong' mentality, but over the last 15 years it has infected an increasing number of people around here. Personally I would rather see the avian flu.
My next statement is just a personal opinion that is based on having been a child and knowing several children. So if it is totally wrong based on your own children then you, of course, are the exception. Any parent who believes their children would never lie to them is a fool. There are ranges of lies. From the 'honestly I didn't steal your car and transport drugs' to 'yeah, I put the laundry in the dryer already' then running to do it as soon as the phone is hung up. Personally, I still use that second one today. Somewhere in this range are most people. Oddly, the children of these infected parents are usually at the far end of the lying scale, the scary end.
On a day to day basis it doesn't bother anyone else. Let them live in their delusional world if it makes them happy. Oh, but when something goes wrong it can't be their kid's fault so they start looking for someone to blame.
The problem with that is that they always seem to key in on kids who don't have the family structure to support them. To shut them up society is happy to let the children of immigrants or disfunctional families take the blame. Very sad, and wrong.

An Adam's reference

A proud parenting moment happened last night.

Me:"Bedtime"
Son: "Time is an illusion, bedtime doubly so."

Yes, I'm raising him right.

Teachers

I have said many times that teachers are underpaid. Until this year though I don't think I really meant it. One day a friend of mine and I figured up what she made an hour. We took into consideration all of the time she spent getting projects ready at home and grading papers. Hourly it came to a little over two dollars an hour. Whenever a certain rush regurgitator would start talking about teachers being overpaid I would bring up this example. Still I don't think I had ever stopped to look at the profession itself enough to really mean it.
Over the last few weeks other school board members and I have been talking to teachers from different districts about what makes a good administrator. Most of them have said something to the effect that what they need is a leader and a motivator to help them to continue to grow and become better teachers. How many of us would think to say that is what kind of a boss we want? I have much more respect for the profession of educators now than I did a month ago.

Getting up early sucks

I made it three miles tonight. That is how far I usually walked before I got sick. This is the first time I made it that far since then. My back hurt by the time I got home.
I am not a morning person. On school mornings I get up knowing I can climb back in bed after the children are off. Tomorrow I have to get up at 6:30 while they sleep late. School is having a late start in the morning and I have to go to Leoti, figures.

Random thoughts

I am glad the weekend is over so I can rest. For people who work weekends Mondays are great. Today I made cupcakes that looked like kittens. They were very cute. I watched both of my sons compete in a scholars bowl match, they did an excellent job.
On Thursday I took a six hour trip, one way, with the rest of the school board. We stayed the night in Wichita on the way. Not a good place to stop for the night, we still had to wake early and finish the drive, Emporia would have been much more sensible. I was surprised at how much fun I had on this trip.
My sister and I gave a tea party for my nieces birthdays on Sunday. It was fun. I always forget how tired 15 little girls can make a person.
I didn't really get excited about the game this weekend. I usually do even if I don't really care who wins. I didn't even make any food. My son made his chicken wings, which rock, so we didn't starve. Oddly, I didn't even drink a beer.

Silence

Everybody is still at the ball games, so I get an hour of quiet. Should I be here on the computer, doing one of the hundreds of things I need to do, or just relax?

paying for bad decisions

I didn't feel like leaving my house this morning, and I didn't have to. Curly Top is also coming down with something so it seemed like the perfect day to lay around. After the busy weekend we just had I didn't even want to answer the phone. Work called a few times. I knew they wanted me to come in. I should've been responsable and worked today, because now I have to work tomorrow. For me personally thats okay, I really didn't feel like moving today. As a consequence though Curly Top has to go to a sitter instead of my sister's house, and my sister has to find a sitter for her baby. On top of that I miss my son's last b-ball game.

You know

You know those shiny Capri Sun foils that you can suck completely shut? I think my head is stuck inside of one. If you are a doctor please tell me when I can expect a kid to blow it full of air and pass it to a buddy. I had the flu weeks ago, as the symptoms were leaving they invited a head cold to hold there spot.

You know one of those sitcom moments when somebody does something ridiculous in front of hiding people, like their surprise party guests? I came very close to having one of those moments yesterday. Only this ridiculous thing would have been life altering. As in state of my marriage altering. Yikes! I'm still a little shaken by this.

You know when people use the phrase 'you know' entirely to often, so often it is a verbal tic? I hate that. I was talking to someone the other day who was getting very excited about the subject we were on and she used it three times in one incomplete sentence. I am so glad we were on the phone or my wincing would have really hurt her feelings.

I may sue

I have a legitimate reason to be angry with Nickelodeon. We, Curly Top and I, were watching T.V. this morning. I had missed The Daily Show last night and was plotting a way to watch it at ten this morning. Go, Diego, Go! was on. My plan was that when it was over I was going to quietly change the channel and hope she didn't remember what was on next. Five minutes before the show was over some goofy little thing came on and told her Blue's Clues was next. Foiled! It was time to come clean. After I turned it to Comedy Central I explained to her that I had missed a show I liked to watch last night and was going to watch it now. She was calm then on the first commercial she looked at me and said, "I had to go to bed and didn't get to watch cartoons last night."

Suing Nickelodeon

Let's see if I can do this again.http://web.morons.org/article.jsp?sectionid=8&id=6738 What are people thinking? Are they just looking for easy money? Somehow I think I could understand that more than people who honestly think this is a helpful idea.
Please somebody explain to them about informed decisions. If you can't say no to your children in the store get a babysitter and shut up. I rarely buy any cereal in a box. I have explained to my children that these companies want more of our money and use marketing to try and get it. I show them the price difference and tell them that the extra money is to pay for the box. They are kids, they still ask for boxes of cereal instead of bags. I'm the parent I say no.
If we can't even teach our children to say no to marketing how can we expect them to resist peer pressure? Now these kids have all the luck. They are under eight and have the buying power in their household. That would have so rocked.

My jobs

I sat in on an interview this evening. The man being interviewed talked about his love for education. One of the interesting points he made was the need for teachers to evaluate themselves everyday to see if they left the room better teachers than they walked into it. This got me thinking about my career, or actually the lack thereof. I have three part time jobs and several hobbies, which of these do I love? Two of my jobs I am just showing up for the paycheck. Neither of them are unpleasant, I just know I'm not trying to improve. If I thought I may have to switch to either of them full time and plan to spend the rest of my life showing up every day I might just give up. At my other job I am currently improving and putting a lot of thought into, but that is just because the place needs so much work. Once all of my projects are done I'll probably start watching the clock. Do I need a career? The day may come when I need to support myself. Even if it doesn't I can't imagine not having something to look back on as my life's work.

Energy for life

I have nothing to say. This has been the case for the last few days. I was one of those mothers who sat down after sending her last child to school and tried to remember who I was and what I liked to do. I must say that over the last four years I have done a smashing job of answering those questions. Now my days are falling into a schedule of getting breakfast, getting lunch, reading pre-school books, getting snacks, getting supper, getting kids showered, and into bed. My youngest niece will be in kindergarten in two years. I may have them living with me that long, I hope so, I love them like my own. I guess what I am trying to decide is how much of myself to put aside for that amount of time. Of course if I can ever shake this cold, it is going on two weeks now, and get my energy back I may be able to handle it all.

The best part about having little ones again is watching how well my sons are responding to them. To clarify their relationship I must explain that from the time Princess was born until she was five they spent five to seven days a week at my house while their mother was in school and working full time. They moved away two years ago, greatly reducing the amount of time we see them. Now that they are back my boys get them drinks, help them tie their shoes, and read to them cheerfully. I have got more help than I expected without having to ask. Yesterday I let them each invite a friend over to play for the day. After a few hours of four little girls running through the house my oldest walked by me and said, "I'm going in my room to blow my brains out."
I had to remind him of the revolving door we had when he was a child. It was nothing to look in my living room and see five extra children playing. For all of my complaining that was really a fun time in my life. We are reading Ella Enchanted every night before bed, now that is a book the boys would never have picked. Don't tell anybody, but they are enjoying listening to it too.

Winding down

One of my part time jobs is as a skating rink manager. Let me tell you, by the end of a busy Saturday night like tonight I need silence, yet I am too keyed up to chill alone. What I really am craving is a quiet conversation with somebody, since everybody I can think of is either unavailable or in bed I am drinking a couple of glasses of wine in front of my computer. Most nights I take a walk around town, but since I have a chest cold I'm not getting out in this frigid weather.

magic links and playing sick

http://hollywoodlog.typepad.com/nickerblog/ Reading this post made me wonder what I was getting myself into. Why do this thing that is taking up a bit of extra time? I seriously doubt anybody is reading, so why waste my time? Then I realized that if I wasn't typing this I would most likely be talking to myself. This is much more sane isn't it?

I am fairly impressed that I made that little link up there. I have been hanging around reading on the internet for years and have wondered about the magic of link making. These mysterious smart people who can tell me what I should read/look at and then show me the way. Now I have made one. I wont try it anywhere else yet, to risky. I hope it works.

My son was laying on my bed this morning completely dressed and ready for school. He suddenly smacked his forehead and said, "I forget, I was going to pretend to be sick today."
I was clear that there was no chance of him staying home. I laughed when he told me he was going to go the office later and tell them he was sick. In front of the school he jumped out of the back seat, but instead of going inside he hopped in the front passenger seat. "Come on Mom, I'm really sick. Feel me I have a fever." He gave me a charming smile, and believe me he is very charming. I kicked him out and went home.
I was babysitting my 5 month old niece today. She laid down for a nap as soon as we got home. I was so grateful I almost cried. Curly top, my 3 year old niece, who recently moved in with me, curled up in bed and went to sleep. I looked up and thanked God for this precious gift of a morning. I quickly closed my eyes and joined them. Thirty minutes later the phone rings.
It was the school secretary, my son was in the office sick. I started laughing and asked to talk to him. It was a nice try on his part, but I wasn't buying it. My eyes were closed before I even hung up.
Ten minutes later the phone rings again. Grade school secretary, my niece, Princess, Curly Top's sister, has had a nose bleed and needs some clothes. I hung up and did my best Chris Farley "For the love of God, let me sleep." I pouted for a couple of minutes before getting up. At the school I mentioned to the G.S. sec. That I was going to head over to the Jr. High since I was here anyway and check on my son. She mentioned she had seen him this morning and he looked sick.
One look at him and I knew he was still trying to fool me. He had managed to convince everybody else though so I'm sure at least a few people are wondering what kind of a monster I am. Tonight it came out that he had not finished an English assignment. I was a much luckier child, my mom believed me every time.

My day

All five of the kids are now sleeping. Silence is a wonderful sound. I have not been on a walk all week, of course it is cold outside and I've had meetings every night this week, so I can't blame that on my expanded household. For the most part I have been really enjoying the change. Watching my boys interact with their younger cousins has been great. They are really patient and caring with them, I am a very proud parent right now. I have school board meetings again on Thursday and Friday, I need a night to just hang out. Oh, and a morning to sleep in, since I'm requesting things I can't have.

I dreamed that I was running around a church searching for a painkiller. I should have taken this for a bad sign. A horrible sinus headache has been hanging around all day. Despite this reason to just lay around I packed away all of my Christmas decorations today, rearranged my furniture and vacuumed. Why do I hate vacuuming so? I would rather clean the toilets. Tomorrow, maybe I will get around to cleaning my room.

Parenthood

There are certain things parents of young children can expect to edit out of their daily life. Long walks, reading time, afternoon movies and drinks with neighbors, and long showers are a few of them. My children are old enough, the youngest is nine, that all of these things have been added back in. I love this phase of parenthood. We spend time playing and having long conversations every day, but still all have our own personal interests.
12:40 A.M. yesterday I get a call summoning me to Wichita. By 1:00 p.m. I am starting the four hour return trip. For once I am glad it is a long drive, I needed the time to contemplate the changes in my life now that I have a household of 5 children instead of 3. The new additions, which are only here for a 5 month period at this point, are 3 and 6. This could take some getting used to. I am really going to try and do this without editing out to much of my personal life this time around. I've become really attached to some parts. I love my nieces though and don't want to shortchange them in any way so we will have to see what happens.

Perfect matches

A friend mentioned today that she goes to work with her husband on some Sunday afternoons. The impressive thing about this is that they have been married over eighteen years. She didn't mention this as an interesting fact, she was telling a story about something that happened one day while she was reading and watching him work. I know several couples who barely spend time together when they are both at home, let alone finding ways to spend even more time together. They really give a cynic like me faith that true love still exists. They were married when she was sixteen and still shower together now that all of their children are grown. Isn't that the sweetest?

Slot machines and Nascar

"Once you go there and try it in person you'll be hooked." This has been said to me by both Gaming and Nascar fans. In neither case was it true. Honestly I tried. No sitting around complaining or sulking for me, I really tried and succeeded at enjoying myself. I just left both events knowing I would never choose to go back on my own.

I went to two different races, three if you count the Bush race. The first one, in Dallas, I even left my book in the car. I thought about taking it in just in case, but decided against it. I was reading The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan and knew it would be too tempting to just read and not get into the race at all. After 100 laps, there were still 200 left to go, I made the long walk back to my car to get it. At Kansas City I just went ahead and carried Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner in with me.

Slot machines were ok for the first half of an hour. I was putting in my money slowly, finishing my first amaretto sour and ordering another one. The problem is I am a thrifty person. We have a hand held video poker game at home that I play it for free as many times as I desire. I figured the five dollars in nickels that I had put into the slots was about right for two drinks so I went upstairs to read and relax. That was really my theme for the weekend, relax. I didn't wear any make up or tight fitting clothes. I just hung out and enjoyed being alone or laughing with friends.

Now that I'm home I don't care if I ever see another slot machine. I can't imagine paying to watch a wheel spin around as long a Wheel of Fortune is still on t.v.. I do believe I got my moneys worth out of the Casinos. Over a three day period I spent $25.00 on the slots. I received one slice of pizza, two hot dogs, two amaretto sours, four bloody marys, and four bottles of water. The trick I used was dropping my money in really slowly until I saw the drink person coming my way then I acted like a serious gambler until I placed my order. The only problem is now, back at home, when I'm playing video poker my family keeps ignoring my request for free drinks to be carried into the bathroom.

I put a $10 bill into a machine one evening and won $60 in nickels. I cashed out and stuck the money in my pocket. Then I decided to really get into the experience. I bought my friend and I each $15 in poker chips. We sat down and tried our luck at black jack. There was a $5 minimum bet. I played 5 hands and she played 6. All in all not a bad experience, but I can think of better things to spend $30 on.

To all of you Gaming lovers and Nascar fans I want you to know I'm not trying to trivialize your sports. I had fun and will probably go back to each of them someday if that is what everybody else wants to do. I just know that if I'm picking we will try something else.

Gaming towns

My trip to Cripple Creek was fun. If you are a gambler this would be a great place to spend your days off. If, like me, you don't like watching money spin away, not even one penny at a time there is not so much to do there. Needless to say there was plenty of time for me to make a few notes. Here is what I wrote on January 5th.

Sitting here on a bench outside of a casino I realize people are amazing. It is a long drive into the mountains, on steep winding roads. When you get here the sky is an amazing color of blue, perfectly set against the scattered green trees and brown grass. The air is crisp and it is warm enough so that only a light jacket is required during the day, but still cool enough that some spots of snow remain. Yet very few of the people who are visiting here take more than the few minutes it takes to walk from one casino to another to notice the beauty of their surroundings.

They go from one smoke filled building to another. The noise of machines whirling and dinging is surely still ringing in their ears. They sit and pay money to stare at a machines spinning around. While for free they could be looking at the snow dusted mountains. For the ones who don't care for nature there are old buildings with boarded windows to be wondered at. I noticed one small, wood building standing on a few pillars about five feet high. You could look straight through to open side to the hill it was snuggled up to on the other side. It looked like somebody had dug the basement out from under it. Why?

One afternoon was spent pleasantly walking around town looking at churches. The next visiting the only museum open for the season. I had to stop and rest at the top of one of the hills, luckily for me there was a shrine in the Catholic churchyard to look at while I waited for my heartbeat to go below the audible level. One of the churches had a date and Christian scientists wrote in parenthesis on the corner stone. The museum I wanted to visit was closed for the season, it was a closed down parlor house. The one that was open was nice and worth the five dollars it cost, but not spectacular.

leaving town again

We are going to Colorado today with a couple of friends today. Most of our time will be spent in casinos. Since I don't really care to gamble a couple of books are already packed. I have an advanced readers copy of Arthur & George that I can't wait to really get into. The only problem that I can foresee with this trip is that I hate rebooting my ovarian cycle during car trips. My body told me yesterday that yes that is what I'll be doing.

Crushes

When people who know me describe me the word cold comes up. In many ways they are right. Decisions should be made with the head, not the heart, or any other organ. Feelings should be held in or discussed privately, unless we are expressing our love of chocolate. While I am touchy as far as shaking hands or an occasional hug I prefer private displays of affection to public ones. So yes in many ways I am cold and think everybody should try it. Drama is overrated. Knowing me as a cold person most people would be shocked to know how many crushes I still get.

All kinds of crushes. Girl crushes, like the one I had on Rachel Ray for the longest time. I love watching her on t.v. because I can imagine us hanging out, cooking meals, and watching movies together. This type of crush is nice because the crush fades and your left liking this really neat person. O.k. here I am mostly talking about real people I know not television personalities.

Then there is your run of the mill crush on the opposite sex. Yes I still get these all the time. Somehow I thought I would grow out of them by now. I'm going to be a ninety year old woman someday who embarrasses her grown children by bringing dates home to thanksgiving. I wonder if crushes serve some purpose in our life and should be embraced or if they are a distraction that pulls us away from the important things in life.

Celebrating being me

That title sounds rather conceited, doesn't it? School is back in session, and all of the holiday guests are back at their homes. That leaves me here all alone in my house, a glorious predicament. I am a social loner. Living in the country like a hermit is something I could never do. Being around people, watching them walk down the road carrying on with their lives is very satisfying to me. Knowing at any moment I could leave my house walk only a block or two and find people I know well enough to have long conversations with is a very important part of my life. Over the holidays the constant flow of people in and out is great fun. Ah,but when it is over and I have a whole day to be alone, that is like a great sigh.

I am sipping a glass of Champaign. Steaks that have been marinated for a couple of days are coming to room temperature on the counter. Next to the steaks my arch nemesis, a glass of red wine, is breathing, begging me to like it this time. Wine has never been a favorite drink of mine. After reading several books on the subject and having a few knowledgeable friends guide me threw a few tastings I have found a couple of whites and blushes that I enjoy. Red wine though has made me question the combined wisdom of centuries of wine drinkers.

Today though is a day when I stepped out of a long shower, looked in the mirror and liked the naked body I saw. Today is a day of finishing a great book, sleeping in, talking on the phone. Today over medium rare steak and after hours of breathing in the glass, wine and I will meet again. Who knows, I may set it aside and use it as an ingredient in supper, or I may enjoy drinking the whole glass. On a day when I heat up the grill to cook a steak dinner for which I am the only guest, trying something new will be another part of the celebration.