It's official. I never have to leave my house again. Ever. Thanks to my trusty computer and the miracle of the internet, I can officially become an E-hobbit*. Here's what it would look like:
If I'm hungry, I can buy my groceries online. All I have to do is pick my city, then my grocer, and have whatever I'd like to eat delivered to my home. And if I don't like the store-brand coffee, I can always order specialty coffee. After eating all that food I'll need some exercise. I can have exercise equipment shipped right over and enjoy the benefits of the natural high.
Then if I find myself bored, I can purchase entertainment from the net. When my computer dies, I can have a new one delivered. I won't need a car anymore because I won't be going anywhere. But, if I change my mind I can always go here for a new/used vehicle.
When I get sick, I can diagnose myself at home. Then I can order my medication (non-prescription, of course). When I find myself in emotional turmoil (as I most certainly will from being in the house 24 hours a day), I can find a therapist online.
Holiday shopping? Here's a listing for all major holidays: Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day, New Years, Halloween, and Fourth of July. And fireworks can be found here.
Not that I'll need new clothing, but I can visit an online clothing store when I get the urge. And since the shoe selection in clothing stores is usually limited (even online), I can go here instead.
If I was single, I'd need a companion. Of course, my date would have to come to my house. But that's okay because I can order a movie and have the grocer deliver an extra box of popcorn.
All that shopping would mean I'd need a job so I'll just go here and submit my resume. Then, after my telephone interview, I can start working from home. The IRS will still receive my electronic tax filing every spring. Tax evasion is a no-no, right?
There you have it. No more waiting in line, sitting in the doctor's office, or meeting with teachers whom I've only heard bad things about. I won't have to worry about car accidents or car insurance, being car-jacked or having my purse ripped off my shoulder. I'd never have to deal with rude people who ruin my day or rainy days that ruin my hair.
I NEVER have to leave my house again. Thank you, Bill Gates.
*Thanks to Joe for coining the word "E-Hobbit".
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Stormy Weather
The watches and warnings started coming around 4 pm. Flash floods, thunderstorms, and tornados. All remnants of Rita. I'm still pretty new to the south so I became fairly nervous about the weather and Joe had to pry me from the windows several times. Nevermind that I tease him whenever a light flurry comes in the winter and the schools are closed for the day.
I stepped outside at one point and walked to the end of the drive. I wanted to see as much of the sky as was possible. The clouds were low and thick. It looked like God had dropped his bowl of mashed potato upside down in the sky. I thought that maybe I could just reach up with my pointing finger and scramble the clouds around abit. But they were already moving in a state of chaos. Some were going south, some west, others north & east. Just as I had decided that all they really needed was a good director an amazing and beautiful thing happened.
A symphony sounded from the sky. It seemed to come from everywhere all at once. I stood transfixed at the opera that was being performed above my head. Heaven was calling me!
Wait. No, those were just the civil sirens. Oh well.
I stepped outside at one point and walked to the end of the drive. I wanted to see as much of the sky as was possible. The clouds were low and thick. It looked like God had dropped his bowl of mashed potato upside down in the sky. I thought that maybe I could just reach up with my pointing finger and scramble the clouds around abit. But they were already moving in a state of chaos. Some were going south, some west, others north & east. Just as I had decided that all they really needed was a good director an amazing and beautiful thing happened.
A symphony sounded from the sky. It seemed to come from everywhere all at once. I stood transfixed at the opera that was being performed above my head. Heaven was calling me!
Wait. No, those were just the civil sirens. Oh well.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Meet the Bloggers
Meet the Bloggers:
(Click name for blogger profile. Click quote for full article.)
(Click name for blogger profile. Click quote for full article.)
In his post, "President Gump", Joe says:
"...this picture reminded me of that scene where Forrest meets JFK. JFK asks him how he feels and Forrest says "I gotta go pee."
-and here is his personal ramble where he complains:
"But that damn LSAT! I hate standardized tests!"
Laurie expresses her frustration as she leaves Texas to let Rita have her way with the land:
"After spending 6 hours on the road to drive 50 miles, some guy impersonating an officer was turning people back 10 miles before our turn north."
Liz successfully attacks a new writing challenge:
"I opened the book randomly, and the following amazing sentence was staring up at me."
Lorna has company:
"She is not to be confused with my amazing and beautiful sister Mary who will, sadly, remain at her job, while we're gallivanting."
Cheryl's little girl is growing up:
"she...wants to have a baby and is adamant that she isn't going to do all that yukky kissing stuff just to get one."
Steve shares his interpretations:
"...the correct instruction that should be given by those entering the haunted house in any number of horror films, instead they say things like: lets look in the very dark basement, or lets follow this trail of blood to find out where it came from or the worst of the lot, I'll be right back."
November finds out that she's a puppy:
"okay I found this and it was so cute I have to share."
Victoria shares her secrets to a fulfilling life:
"...living in the present is not an idea. It's reality."
Scot's offers his perspective on aging gracefully:
"...this is the essence of getting older, the simple realization that truths about life are more easily recognizable because of the many days of living we have put behind us."
Enjoy your visit with "The Talented"!
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Ticket to freedom
It took me several months of saving babysitting money to get it. At $50 before taxes, my new bike was my pride and joy.
I was 13 when I bought it from Sam's Club. It was a red ten-speed with horizontal handlebars that curled back at the ends. It took me forever to learn how to switch the gears located at the top of the bars, and eventually I just decided to leave it at the same gear. Hill or no hill, it wasn't worth the brain power.
I rode that bike everywhere! To the park, school, friends' houses, and the gas station. It was mine and I was so proud of it. After a month of owning it I learned how to ride without holding onto the handlebars. I could even turn soft corners without using them.
My bike was my ticket to freedom. I could leave my house, complete with 2 parents and 6 siblings, and ride anywhere in the neighborhood. My favorite place to go was a quarter-mile from our house. It was the biggest hill in the area. I would sit at the top of the hill and watch to make sure no cars were turning onto the road, then I would lift my feet from the ground. I liked to start off slowly. This way, I knew I was in control and could plan my next move. Then I would pedal until I was at a good speed, and if I felt confident enough that day I would relieve my hands of the bars and drop them to my side. Sometimes I would lift them just enough to get my balance.
My Mom always told me not to leave it in the frontyard where it could get stolen. I always remembered to put it in the backyard where there was a fence and a bike rack. One particular evening, though, I forgot. Something had gotten me excited and I dropped it by the front door and rushed inside. The next morning, when I opened the front door for my morning ride to freedom, it was gone. I ran to the backyard to see if anyone had put in the back for me. It wasn't there.
A week later I found it in a creek near my house. It was wrecked. Someone had not only stolen it, but had tossed it into the water and thrown rocks at it. My heart was as crushed as it's metal.
I haven't owned another bike in 15 years and anytime I ride another bike I always think of my old pal, my ticket to freedom.
Maybe it's time for a new one...
I was 13 when I bought it from Sam's Club. It was a red ten-speed with horizontal handlebars that curled back at the ends. It took me forever to learn how to switch the gears located at the top of the bars, and eventually I just decided to leave it at the same gear. Hill or no hill, it wasn't worth the brain power.
I rode that bike everywhere! To the park, school, friends' houses, and the gas station. It was mine and I was so proud of it. After a month of owning it I learned how to ride without holding onto the handlebars. I could even turn soft corners without using them.
My bike was my ticket to freedom. I could leave my house, complete with 2 parents and 6 siblings, and ride anywhere in the neighborhood. My favorite place to go was a quarter-mile from our house. It was the biggest hill in the area. I would sit at the top of the hill and watch to make sure no cars were turning onto the road, then I would lift my feet from the ground. I liked to start off slowly. This way, I knew I was in control and could plan my next move. Then I would pedal until I was at a good speed, and if I felt confident enough that day I would relieve my hands of the bars and drop them to my side. Sometimes I would lift them just enough to get my balance.
My Mom always told me not to leave it in the frontyard where it could get stolen. I always remembered to put it in the backyard where there was a fence and a bike rack. One particular evening, though, I forgot. Something had gotten me excited and I dropped it by the front door and rushed inside. The next morning, when I opened the front door for my morning ride to freedom, it was gone. I ran to the backyard to see if anyone had put in the back for me. It wasn't there.
A week later I found it in a creek near my house. It was wrecked. Someone had not only stolen it, but had tossed it into the water and thrown rocks at it. My heart was as crushed as it's metal.
I haven't owned another bike in 15 years and anytime I ride another bike I always think of my old pal, my ticket to freedom.
Maybe it's time for a new one...
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Quiz
Okay, maybe I'm just bored today. Here's some fun for you anyway. Post your results below!
Click here to find out which alcoholic drink you are!
brought to you by Quizilla
Monday, September 19, 2005
White Knight
He put himself through home school in his last year of high school. I saw him struggle to get through the classes. He was determined to get his diploma so that he could go on to college for a higher degree. And I was SO proud of him.
He finally completed his classes and waited patiently for his diploma to arrive in the mail. When it arrived he called his family and invited them to come celebrate with him. They decided on a date for which they would travel to be with him.
The day that they came, I was there. I watched his family arrive and I felt his elation as he greeted them. We sat in the livingroom of his father's house and he stood up to speak. This was his moment. He had worked so hard for it.
He looked so nervous and excited. He thanked everyone for coming, then brought out his diploma in its shiny new frame for all to see. He waited for everyone to take their picture, a smile on his face and his prize in his hand. They beamed with pride.
Then he put it down. He asked me to stand up, which I did even though my confusion was easy to see. He said he had a surprise for me and asked me to close my eyes. I didn't understand what was happening. This was his night.
When I opened my eyes, I saw him kneeling in front of me. My white knight. He was holding a ring box. My hand went over my mouth and he was the only thing I could see. No one else was in the room. It was just us. I was so dumbfounded that I could not later recall what he actually said. But I do remember hearing him say, "will you marry me?" My heart wept and my eyes followed suit.
Today, 7 years later, I weep. As a child I dreamt of a prince charming. I hoped that he was real, but in my heart it was inconceivable that a man so beautiful and charming, so kind and gallant could possibly exist.
He does. He is my Joe. The white knight of my heart.
He finally completed his classes and waited patiently for his diploma to arrive in the mail. When it arrived he called his family and invited them to come celebrate with him. They decided on a date for which they would travel to be with him.
The day that they came, I was there. I watched his family arrive and I felt his elation as he greeted them. We sat in the livingroom of his father's house and he stood up to speak. This was his moment. He had worked so hard for it.
He looked so nervous and excited. He thanked everyone for coming, then brought out his diploma in its shiny new frame for all to see. He waited for everyone to take their picture, a smile on his face and his prize in his hand. They beamed with pride.
Then he put it down. He asked me to stand up, which I did even though my confusion was easy to see. He said he had a surprise for me and asked me to close my eyes. I didn't understand what was happening. This was his night.
When I opened my eyes, I saw him kneeling in front of me. My white knight. He was holding a ring box. My hand went over my mouth and he was the only thing I could see. No one else was in the room. It was just us. I was so dumbfounded that I could not later recall what he actually said. But I do remember hearing him say, "will you marry me?" My heart wept and my eyes followed suit.
Today, 7 years later, I weep. As a child I dreamt of a prince charming. I hoped that he was real, but in my heart it was inconceivable that a man so beautiful and charming, so kind and gallant could possibly exist.
He does. He is my Joe. The white knight of my heart.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Carpool
Funny things happen in the carpool lane. Here are some things that I've seen while waiting to pick up or drop off my 1st grader:- A man drives into the middle lane where parents are allowed to park. Somehow, while parking, he mistakes the gas for the brakes and his white Escalade leaps like a leopard would his prey. Luckily he stops before hitting the compact in front of him. The man finally parks and steps out of his car. He's looking around to see how many people are laughing. He's laughing. I think it's great when a man embarasses himself and then is able to laugh it off.
- A teacher is standing on the sidewalk. She's waiting for the cars to pull forward so she can open the door and relieve the parent of his/her charge. She doesn't realize it, but the white skirt that she put on that morning was missing a vital partner: the slip. So, she's out in the sunlight and every man that I see is clearly distracted by her very visible leg lines. Oops.
- I'm sitting in line waiting for the cars ahead of me to start moving. They're going nowhere. It's release time though and I get frustrated when I can't figure out why we're not going anywhere. Then I see a car way up ahead pull out and around the car in front of him. The whole line of cars behind him follows suit and when it's my turn to pass it everything becomes clear. The man in the car is asleep. In the carpool lane. I still can't figure out why no one woke him up. A good honk would have done the trick.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Bead Party
I'm going to a Bead Party tonight. For those of you not familiar, I offer this introduction.A Bead Party (referred to as BP hereafter) is where a dozen-or-so chicks get together in a small apartment. The nice chicks will bring food with them. The really, really nice chicks will bring cheesecake.
On every kitchen counter, every table (dining, coffee, end), and sometimes even the floor are partitioned containers (as shown on left). There are literally tens of thousands of beads.
Your job? Try to keep your sanity as you mull over container after container...after container. Decide if you are going to make a necklace, bracelet, watchband, or earings. The set of beads you put together must meet certain criteria if you're going to be happy with the final product. 1) The colors have to compliment each other; 2) the sizes have to complement each other; and 3) they have to fit your personality.
Sound easy? It takes most women 4 tries to assemble a group that they really like. At my first BP it took me 2 hours to end up with a necklace that had 4 beads on it. No joke. I payed $8.oo for it. But what made it worth the price was making something that was "me". Nobody else has a necklace like the one I made.
Tonight I'm attending another BP. I think tonight I'll make a bracelet to compliment my necklace.
I'll be stopping to pick up a cheesecake on my way over. (big cheesy grin)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
SOCK
The SOCK Project
My little sock friend is "J.J." I made him two years ago for my kids. I wanted to give them a special friend that they could carry around for a long, long time. I hoped they would see & hold him and feel comfortable and loved.
Lately, with the recent tragedies in America, I have felt much sadness for all the children who have lost SO much and have nothing but hope. I want to give them what I gave my kids.
I'd like to make lots and lots of these little guys (similar to J.J.) and distribute them to the shelters and children's homes in my area.
So, here I am. I have this huge idea sitting on top of my heart and no vehicle to drive it. Here are my goals:
- To obtain materials necessary for this project;
- To establish a network, and then an organization called "S.O.C.K: Showing Our Children Kindness";
- To get other people from around the nation to make dolls for the shelters/homes in ther area [the dolls will look a little different but will be linked by a tag which will be sewn on the dolls. The tags will say "S.O.C.K: Showing Our Children Kindness", and will be located on the doll's bottom.]
Here are the items I will need to purchase for this project:
- basic sewing machine
- thread
- new men's tube socks
- yarn.
Thank you!
Monday, September 12, 2005
WWYD?
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am in a quandry. Tonight was "B's" reading class open house. I went to meet his reading teacher and to learn more about their reading program. While I was there something interesting happened.
On the chalkboard was the following: "Buenos Dios. Today is Tuesday, September 13th". Now, I don't know how many of you know spanish, but the translation for what she wrote was "Good God. Today is Tuesday, September 13th." It should have been written "Buenos Dias".
I won't tell you what I did (yet). I'm curious to know how everyone else would have handled it. So, what do you think?
-------------------Okay, I think I've held you in suspense long enough-------------
Here was our conversation:
Me: Hello, my name is Tanda ******. I'm "B's" mom.
Her: Hi, I'm Mrs. ****.
Me: I just wanted to shake your hand and let you know that Brett really likes this class.
Her: Well, thank you. He's doing a really great job".
Me: That's wonderul. I'm very proud of him. Ummm...I was looking around the room and I saw on your board over there (I'm pointing) where it says "Bueno DIOS"...
Her: Yeah...(she waits for me to bring my point home. Shedoesn't get it yet)
Me: Ummm...well, "bueno dios" means "good God" in Spanish (awkward giggle)
Her: Oh. (I'm expecting her to giggle too, but she doesn't. Instead she goes over to the board and starts to erase the word "dios") Well, I guess I was in a hurry when I wrote that...
Me: Oh, yeah. I understand. (more giggling. Clearly, I have embarassed her because she is not giggling with me)
Thank goodness there was another mother there who understood the awkwardness of the situation and added "Well, some days...you know." She giggles. That made me feel better but I still feel stupid for how I handled it. Now everytime that teacher sees me she'll think "good god". Giggle.
On the chalkboard was the following: "Buenos Dios. Today is Tuesday, September 13th". Now, I don't know how many of you know spanish, but the translation for what she wrote was "Good God. Today is Tuesday, September 13th." It should have been written "Buenos Dias".
I won't tell you what I did (yet). I'm curious to know how everyone else would have handled it. So, what do you think?
-------------------Okay, I think I've held you in suspense long enough-------------
Here was our conversation:
Me: Hello, my name is Tanda ******. I'm "B's" mom.
Her: Hi, I'm Mrs. ****.
Me: I just wanted to shake your hand and let you know that Brett really likes this class.
Her: Well, thank you. He's doing a really great job".
Me: That's wonderul. I'm very proud of him. Ummm...I was looking around the room and I saw on your board over there (I'm pointing) where it says "Bueno DIOS"...
Her: Yeah...(she waits for me to bring my point home. Shedoesn't get it yet)
Me: Ummm...well, "bueno dios" means "good God" in Spanish (awkward giggle)
Her: Oh. (I'm expecting her to giggle too, but she doesn't. Instead she goes over to the board and starts to erase the word "dios") Well, I guess I was in a hurry when I wrote that...
Me: Oh, yeah. I understand. (more giggling. Clearly, I have embarassed her because she is not giggling with me)
Thank goodness there was another mother there who understood the awkwardness of the situation and added "Well, some days...you know." She giggles. That made me feel better but I still feel stupid for how I handled it. Now everytime that teacher sees me she'll think "good god". Giggle.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
777
November, meet everbody. Everybody, meet November!
I've been tagged and here is my assignment...
7 things I plan to do before I die
7 things I cannot do
I've been tagged and here is my assignment...
7 things I plan to do before I die
- Re-marry Joe
- Build my own house
- Leave the country (for vacation!)
- Attend a broadway show
- Attend an opera
- See my children start their own families
- Start my own business
- Photoshop
- Handywork around the house
- Sing
- Write
- Sew
- Wiggle my ears
- Wiggle just my pinky toe
7 things I cannot do
- Fix everything
- Stop myself from finishing someone else's sentence (bad, bad habit)
- Draw anything asymetrical
- Stay awake for 24 hours
- Remember to send birthday cards
- Turn down a banana split
- Make a good egg custard pie
- Good sense of humor
- Nice smile
- Good hygene
- Tall, but not skinny
- Kind
- Gallant
- Fun
- "Ok"
- "Sure"
- "What"
- "Yes"
- "Stop it"
- "No problem"
- "No, not right now"
- Joe is my only crush. But he is a celebrity to me so he counts :0)
- Big Bird
- Papa Smurf
- SpongeBob
- ...and definately Squidward
- The Wiggles (all of em)
- Barney
- My psychiatrist. Just kidding. Maybe.
test
I have a test on Monday.
This semester I am determined to not only refrain from withdrawing, but to actually pass my classes. I can do it. I know I can. The trick is making the RIGHT time to study. I don't need to be studying when it's 9 am and the boys are standing at my feet with empty cereal bowls.
Last night Joe took our two oldest to a football game here in town. I only had the baby and he fell asleep an hour after they left. That gave me one solid hour to work.
I popped in an instrumental latin music cd called "Energy". I made some coffee. Caffinated. Then I needed some water because the coffee was making me thirsty. Finally, I got down to business and was pleasantly surprised to find myself genuinely interested in the material. This doesn't usually happen when I'm studying history.
Today I tried studying with the boys in the room. Ummmm...I'm going to try not to do that anymore. I usually read aloud when I'm studying to drown out some of the noise. Here's what today sounded like:
"The Parliment that met in early 1640 and did not last long... stop doing that...because Charles refused to grant a subsidy, and the king angrily...please be quiet...dissolved the session. But Charles had no way to pay for an army without...you need to quit because you'll wake your brother...taxes."
You see my dilemma, of course. So, tonight, after the boys are snug in bed, I'll try again. Wish me luck. I really want to pass this test!!
This semester I am determined to not only refrain from withdrawing, but to actually pass my classes. I can do it. I know I can. The trick is making the RIGHT time to study. I don't need to be studying when it's 9 am and the boys are standing at my feet with empty cereal bowls.
Last night Joe took our two oldest to a football game here in town. I only had the baby and he fell asleep an hour after they left. That gave me one solid hour to work.
I popped in an instrumental latin music cd called "Energy". I made some coffee. Caffinated. Then I needed some water because the coffee was making me thirsty. Finally, I got down to business and was pleasantly surprised to find myself genuinely interested in the material. This doesn't usually happen when I'm studying history.
Today I tried studying with the boys in the room. Ummmm...I'm going to try not to do that anymore. I usually read aloud when I'm studying to drown out some of the noise. Here's what today sounded like:
"The Parliment that met in early 1640 and did not last long... stop doing that...because Charles refused to grant a subsidy, and the king angrily...please be quiet...dissolved the session. But Charles had no way to pay for an army without...you need to quit because you'll wake your brother...taxes."
You see my dilemma, of course. So, tonight, after the boys are snug in bed, I'll try again. Wish me luck. I really want to pass this test!!
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Birthday
I woke up yesterday morning and heard Joe's voice. He was whispering over the 2 year old between us in the bed.
"Today is his birthday," Joe said.
We spent the next ten minutes talking about the pregnancy, labor and birth of our middle son. It was an easy pregnancy frought with only one problem and that was worry. I walked almost religiously when it was the last month of the pregnancy. The day my water broke we grabbed the bags and headed over to Papaw's house to deposit our oldest son and then continued over the hospital. Somehow, the nurses were convinced that it was not my water that had broken but an "accident" that I had without realizing it and that they were sending me home. I was lay
ing on the hospital bed in a gown ready to start my labor when they told me this and I was very insulted that they would think I wouldn't know the difference between my water breaking and (forgive the bluntness) urinating on myself. I told the nurses, "You're wrong. I'll be seeing you a little later."
About 10 minutes later we were back at Papaw's and I was pacing the street with wet pants on. My plan was to start my labor alone in full force and then go back. Shortly after I was on the phone telling the nurses that I was on my way back up there. They kept me that time.
Joe and I also talked about how fast he had grown. He was so tall and smart. Our little boy was growing up. We stared at this little body between us and smiled in unison. I heard Joe say, "I'm going to wake him up." He gently stirred our sleeping angel and said, "It's your birthday today. Happy Birthday!"
Our little angel, still in a San Fransisco strength morning fog, opened his eyes long enough to say, "leave me alone." The magic was gone.
Joe and I just looked at each other and I could see another plan forming in Joe's eyes. He quickly retorted, "are you going to eat cake and ice cream today?"
The angel AROSE and all of the sudden he was wide awake and his birthday was just as important to him as it was for us. Just for different reasons. It's the little things in life, you know.
"Today is his birthday," Joe said.
We spent the next ten minutes talking about the pregnancy, labor and birth of our middle son. It was an easy pregnancy frought with only one problem and that was worry. I walked almost religiously when it was the last month of the pregnancy. The day my water broke we grabbed the bags and headed over to Papaw's house to deposit our oldest son and then continued over the hospital. Somehow, the nurses were convinced that it was not my water that had broken but an "accident" that I had without realizing it and that they were sending me home. I was lay
ing on the hospital bed in a gown ready to start my labor when they told me this and I was very insulted that they would think I wouldn't know the difference between my water breaking and (forgive the bluntness) urinating on myself. I told the nurses, "You're wrong. I'll be seeing you a little later."About 10 minutes later we were back at Papaw's and I was pacing the street with wet pants on. My plan was to start my labor alone in full force and then go back. Shortly after I was on the phone telling the nurses that I was on my way back up there. They kept me that time.
Joe and I also talked about how fast he had grown. He was so tall and smart. Our little boy was growing up. We stared at this little body between us and smiled in unison. I heard Joe say, "I'm going to wake him up." He gently stirred our sleeping angel and said, "It's your birthday today. Happy Birthday!"
Our little angel, still in a San Fransisco strength morning fog, opened his eyes long enough to say, "leave me alone." The magic was gone.
Joe and I just looked at each other and I could see another plan forming in Joe's eyes. He quickly retorted, "are you going to eat cake and ice cream today?"
The angel AROSE and all of the sudden he was wide awake and his birthday was just as important to him as it was for us. Just for different reasons. It's the little things in life, you know.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Sway
It was 1990. I was thirteen.
We lived in Kansas City in, what our family calls, the "white house". The house was located in a quiet neighborhood on a corner lot and was complimented by a city park across the street. It was one of three parks within 2 miles.
I had acquired my own room, finally, and it was true love. The carpet was "cookie monster" blue, there was a small bathroom, and a closet with a hidden cubby area complete with a removable wooden plank. This hidden cubby was where I stashed my school notes from girl friends and other secret girly things. Then there was the telephone (my first) which I rarely had legitimate reason to use. I called city information daily to hear my horoscope, the weather, time, and which movies were playing (even though I never actually went).
No memory of that time of my life is sweeter than one particular afternoon when I found myself alone in the middle of the park across the street. I was a tree climber. Our favorite neighborhood tree was a large gnarly oak that we affectionately called the "chinese tree" because of the intricate design on the bark. It was strong and solid and we often hung from it's branches. It's foliage was sufficient enough to hide anyone who had the incliniation to climb it during a game of hide-and-seek. Then there were the tall pines which we climbed in competitions to see who had the guts to go the farthest up. But neither of these were my target that day.
Instead, I turned to a skinny oak tree in the middle of the park. It was young and had not yet reached the heights of it's neighbors, but it was high enough for me. It was a risky venture. I wasn't sure the branches could hold my weight. I wasn't sure if there would be ants on the trunk. I wasn't sure that I could even get very high before it started leaning over. But it was a breezy day and I had a plan.
I climbed up slowly from branch to branch, stopping on each one to see if the tree would permit me another step before leaning over to deposit me on the ground. When I was at a comfortable height and I was sure, if not positive, the tree would grant me a stay, I stood still and closed my eyes. The tree gently began to sway with the wind. I could hear the wind through the branches and it was as if the wind were singing a lullaby and rocking the tree gently to sleep. I leaned with the trunk as it swayed and almost felt like I was melding into the trunk itself. That day, that small, skinny oak tree was my partner and we were braving the wind together.
Today, 15 years later, I still like to imagine that I'm standing in the arms of my old friend and I all I have to do to be there is just close my eyes and...
{{{sway}}}
We lived in Kansas City in, what our family calls, the "white house". The house was located in a quiet neighborhood on a corner lot and was complimented by a city park across the street. It was one of three parks within 2 miles.
I had acquired my own room, finally, and it was true love. The carpet was "cookie monster" blue, there was a small bathroom, and a closet with a hidden cubby area complete with a removable wooden plank. This hidden cubby was where I stashed my school notes from girl friends and other secret girly things. Then there was the telephone (my first) which I rarely had legitimate reason to use. I called city information daily to hear my horoscope, the weather, time, and which movies were playing (even though I never actually went).
No memory of that time of my life is sweeter than one particular afternoon when I found myself alone in the middle of the park across the street. I was a tree climber. Our favorite neighborhood tree was a large gnarly oak that we affectionately called the "chinese tree" because of the intricate design on the bark. It was strong and solid and we often hung from it's branches. It's foliage was sufficient enough to hide anyone who had the incliniation to climb it during a game of hide-and-seek. Then there were the tall pines which we climbed in competitions to see who had the guts to go the farthest up. But neither of these were my target that day.
Instead, I turned to a skinny oak tree in the middle of the park. It was young and had not yet reached the heights of it's neighbors, but it was high enough for me. It was a risky venture. I wasn't sure the branches could hold my weight. I wasn't sure if there would be ants on the trunk. I wasn't sure that I could even get very high before it started leaning over. But it was a breezy day and I had a plan.
I climbed up slowly from branch to branch, stopping on each one to see if the tree would permit me another step before leaning over to deposit me on the ground. When I was at a comfortable height and I was sure, if not positive, the tree would grant me a stay, I stood still and closed my eyes. The tree gently began to sway with the wind. I could hear the wind through the branches and it was as if the wind were singing a lullaby and rocking the tree gently to sleep. I leaned with the trunk as it swayed and almost felt like I was melding into the trunk itself. That day, that small, skinny oak tree was my partner and we were braving the wind together.
Today, 15 years later, I still like to imagine that I'm standing in the arms of my old friend and I all I have to do to be there is just close my eyes and...
{{{sway}}}
Monday, September 05, 2005
Mouse
We have a mouse. Two days ago, Joe bought a set of wooden mouse traps. He started out with one trap placing a piece of sliced cheese on the trigger and sliding it carefully onto the pantry floor. Fifteen minutes later the cheese was gone and so was the mouse. Then he tried two traps, one with sliced cheese, the other with peanut butter (did you know mice liked peanut butter??!). Less than an hour later, the cheese was gone, the peanut butter had almost disappeared and, again, the mouse was nowhere in sight. This went on most of the night.
Yesterday, Joe bought some fancy plastic traps. He was determined to get that mouse! No mouse was going to make him look stupid. He set both traps last night. One with cheese, and one with peanut butter. The mouse took both and left a message. Here is the conversation this morning after a night of determined effort to extinguish our house guest:
J-"He ate all the food again. He crapped on one of the traps."
T-"lol, Looks like you are his be-otch now."
J-"I don't know what I should be doing now. Should I keep trying to kill him or pay him the proper respect?
T-"LOL!
J-"We're just feeding him, you know. He eats all the food and then leaves. He'll probably start calling his friends and family over now. We should just start preparing his dinner with ours."
Poor Joe. He'll try again tonight. But if the mouse is still there in the morning I'm just going to head to PetSmart to buy it a bowl.
-----------------------------------------------Update---------------------------------------
Well, we won't be needing the bowl anymore...not for that mouse anyway. Joe caught one but it turns out that he had a friend that was living in the pantry with him! Joe said, "we must have caught the stupid one." lol. One down, one to go!
:0)
:0)
Saturday, September 03, 2005
N.O.
I've never been to New Orleans, so this is kind of how I see it: in black and white. But Joe has been there and for the past 10 years I have heard him tell stories of his school trip there. What he saw, heard, felt, and exerienced. The stories are so colorful and full of life.
I'll never get to see New Orleans as it was, but I have comfort when I hear Joe talk about it. But that's not important.
Thousands of people lost their homes, lives, belongings, family members, automobiles, pets, clothing, and livelihoods. Thousands of people here in the United States are suddenly homeless. These people are not citizens of New Orleans anymore. They are now citizens of every city and town in America. Their children are our children. Their sorrows are our sorrows. Even if you live as far north as Washington or Maine, you have new neighbors. They come armed with nothing but hope that they will move past this incredibly difficult time and that somehow someone will help them pull their lives back together.
Please, if you are not close enough to take in families or to volunteer for cleaning up the southern coastal areas, donate to The Red Cross. Money that is donated to The Red Cross will help feed, cloth, and shelter individuals and families who have nothing. Literally. Thanks.
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