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.