Duh!

Some days I like to read my horoscope, just for grins and giggles. Today was one of those days where 'stupid' made me laugh out loud.

Astrological signs are what they are - Taurus is reserved for those born mid-April through mid-May. It has always been so, and as far as I know it will always be so. The same goes for the remaining 11 sun signs.

So how is it that the intellectuals who compile and publish the daily horoscopes don't bother to read their own content, just on the off-chance that something might not be...shall we say...applicable, accurate, amazingly stupid?

My horoscope stated (in part):

"Weekly Overview (This Week)

The middle of the week might zip past you, but don't pick up your pace to try to catch up, especially if it's your birthday. That deal..."

What do you mean "especially if it's [my] birthday"?!?! Of course it's not my birthday, I'm a Taurus!

Exactly who's horoscope am I reading today?

Duh!

Da 12 Days of Christmas - Muppet-style!

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

Don't knock it - it's not your life

I have toyed with the idea of editing the "Dreidels and Doorstops" entry to make happy a certain individual who sent me a rather curt (boy! I really had to work to find the right word) email. I never thought I would have to justify my emotions, my feelings, my thoughts and dreams and wishes and fears and ....well, you get the idea.

At the time, I was hurt by the lack of identity, and by words said that I both knew were not meant to be hurtful (but were) and by the fact that those words seemed to come from nowhere (when I quite heard the opposite stated form the individual uttering them originally).

Really? Is there really something wrong with saying I felt bad? I stated facts, I was not embellishing and I was cautionary in regards to my grandmother's age and mental acumen. I took all into account and still could not put aside the feelings it evoked. Sorry if that offends. Maybe, read with eyes and mind open, and for the entire content. That is just a suggestion.

Remember, this is my journal...my blog. So it will include my days, my feelings, my highs and lows, failures, insecurities, foibles, moments of pride, feelings of hopelessness, and reflect my successes and apprehensions, skepticism, doubt, hope, fears, my joy and pain. And I will write it all in my words.

Am I to start apologizing for reveling in a job well done, too? Well, then let me not mention that the video I created for Faygo ended up in second place.

I have always felt like an outsider in my own family. A misfit, as well as a miss-fit.

Why? I do not know, but the feeling has always been there.

Lately, I have begun thinking about how it seems I always carried a camera into 'family' gatherings in order to have a place - for a reason to exist in that spot at that time. Without the camera I was an intruder. Odd, I know, but I recall having those feelings.

To this day, I still feel those feelings...and I cannot tell you why. Only, with recent events, I have never felt more justified. Driving the nail 'home' are recent events with my youngest brother and the advent of discovering my 'father' has been here in Michigan for the last several years, only a handful of miles from us here in Clarkston, and coming face-to-face with him over the holidays.

My sons and I were heading to the theater Christmas day to see Sherlock Holmes, and I asked the boys to take a detour in order to knock on his door and say........what? What do you say to someone who so obviously had no desire to be a part of your life...or have me as a part in his?

Did I imagine some loving reunion? No, but I hoped for a bit of recrimination, or happiness, or something.

He didn't even know me. I knew the boys would be unfamiliar to him, but he looked through me, and when I said 'hello', there was no recognition. I asked him if he knew who I was, and he said "no." I told him I was his daughter, and he didn't even blink.

Why on earth didn't I turn and walk away?

He once told me he didn't want to be a dad, that he wasn't ready when his children came along - well, I guess I gave someone the gift they wanted.

He had made his life with the latest wife - Beverly number two - and her children figured in prominently, while his own kids were packed in boxes and the memories of us were pushed to the back of the attic.

I suppose, though, I should pretend it doesn't matter and not say a word about how I feel. Bitter, bitter, bitter.

They were having a glorious family Christmas, opening gifts and laughing and talking when we arrived...so I apologized for having interrupted their holiday and left.

Clearly we were not where we should be. I was not where I should be, and I had dragged the boys along for protection.

After all, I had given Bag Lady my phone number only 3 weeks before (so he could contact us and make plans to get re-acquainted with the boys - BS!). While Andy was in the hospital for his surgery, I called to get some sort of medical history, in case it might become pertinent. There was idle prattle and chit chat, mostly about them and their travails. No hint of concern about Andy or how he was...would I call and keep them updated? Dad wasn't there, and that's when I should have said I would call another time. I had had to explain who I was when she answered the phone, too.

Since then, I've not heard from them/him. I suppose I should not be surprised.

Standing there, in that entry way, knowing I wasn't part of his family - my family - this limb on my family tree, I felt small.

Where was my camera?

I keep replaying the scene in my head. I tried to briefly fill him in on Andy, but they kept making u-turns in the conversation, and bringing it back to dad and his health and job woes. There was nothing I could say that didn't become "them-centric," and Brian and Karl were standing there watching the train wreck. Brian made the effort to drag mom from the tracks, and I took the hint from his expression and subtle eye movement to make our excuses and go.

Don't look back.

Karl hoisted one poor inflated Santa from his prone wheezing position next to the driveway, and we climbed into the car and pulled away.

Lots of silence.

I suppose the next time I see him he will be in a coffin - that is, if I get a call that the final breath has been drawn. I'm not counting on that, though.

These are my feelings, holiday time or not. This is life, and just because it isn't happening in your living room or in front of you doesn't diminish the feelings I have. This is part of the reason I was bruised by Gram's words. There have been many such incidents throughout my life where I felt completely left behind, excluded, invisible some more recent than others. I know everybody has them, but I am dealing with my own. I am dealing with it as best I can.

Deal with it or read something else. May I suggest some Dickinson?

Sorry.

Docile Detroit December

It's just beginning to snow - only just - and aside from one other decernable snowfall this month, we have had it pretty good. Oh, I know there have been some rather chilly, very windy days, but in the grand scheme of things, this December weather has been mild. After all, it is winter, and we are in the colder climate region - so toughen up you cream puffs, or move to sunny 32*F Los Angeles!

Besides, the worst is yet to come...we still have January and February to go.

Did you get the memo?

It's Christmas.

Hohoho, happy holidays.

R-i-i-i-ght.

It's supposed to be the representation of the birth of Jesus Christ (= hope and joy). It's supposed to keep us mindful of peace on earth, good will to men, loving our fellow human beings, keeping gratefulness front and center in our hearts and minds for the things we have, and to keep us humble and helpful to those who have less. Not just people with fewer possessions, but those who are in need of an ear to hear their stories; those who have fallen on hard times; those with less conviction and strength to overcome addictions; those who require assistance to begin again - or at least maintain until things can turn around in their lives.

The focus for a lot of charity drives is to provide a fun Christmas for children - so, donate toys that can be dispersed where they are needed; put money in a red kettle and hope it gets where it needs to be; empty your pantry shelves of food items and drop off donations to shelters so someone can have a hot meal. So many more, I am certain you know the drill.

Well, that's all fine for Christmas - yea! the end of the calendar year holidays are covered, but what about the rest of the 11 months of the year? Starting at Thanksgiving, we are bombarded with pleas for help...but things become pretty lax from New Year's day forward. Oh sure, there are requests for breast cancer awareness and the race for the cure (and all of the other incurable diseases)...pleas for money to assist doctors without borders to reconstruct facial (and other) deformities in foreign lands...and on and on. But, where is the social conscientiousness in the effort to remain vigilant in behaving well? For being loving and respectful to those around us, and to remember to smile instead of scowl? Thinking good thoughts and uttering encouraging words? Where is that effort?

Don't model horrible behaviors for your children and then turn around and complain about other young people behaving badly.

As an example: share the roadways instead of petulantly believing you are the only person on the road with a place to get to.

Don't wave at me with one specific finger because I didn't allow you to race up and cut me off when the lanes merged down - the lanes have been merging for a mile and a half, and the rest of us fell in line and have been awaiting our turn to get past the impediment - why don't you do the same?

Don't be dissmissive and rude to people in the waitstaff industry, and then wonder why the next cashier you encounter isn't as happy as a lark to serve check you out.

Don't neglect being charitable all the year long - and not just with your money and possessions. Open your hearts and give of your time and yourself - it's worth more, anyway. Start with your kids and watch the returns.

No...maybe you can't write that sort of personal donation off on your taxes, but doesn't the warmth of humanitarianism last far longer and reach deeper into you than dropping a fiver into a red kettle?

Dash away, dash away, dash away all!

Just wanted to say it...it's kind of fun to pretend I am one of the 'dashing'.

Disinterest is growing

The disinterest of my cousins has put me off my game and really slowed progress of my gift for my grandmother.

What's more, my aunt's snark-o-gram - in response to my blog a number of days ago - has really shot holes in my interest to communicate, postulate, demonstrate and just relate.

My own desire to finish the AV project I began nearly 12 months ago for Gram has waned significantly over the last few weeks.

Promises of photo submissions to come from a have fallen by the wayside, and while others are eager to see it, I am leery of 'finishing' the thing, for fear of more guff from several corners later on.

If I am going to catch flack for my own thoughts and opinions, for having feelings and expressing them in a blog, then can you imagine the crap that will fly when people do not see their own kids (and the grand kids those children spawned) while several visions of other cousins zip by?

I had a friend chime in that I should not just email or call and ask for photo submissions, but that I should drive to my cousins' homes and take - or make - dinner for them. Then, while they are eating, I take the opportunity to go through their photo albums (or boxes of unruly pictures - "because not everyone is organized to the point of having albums") and borrow the ones I need to scan for the video. This way, she reasoned, I would get exactly what I need and get it done quickly.

Tracy was right, but my cousins do not all live nearby (some as far as Washington State, Arizona, CA and CO), and others do not want to correspond let alone be bothered with a cousin asking for a harmless favor and a little bit of effort. What Tracy failed to factor in was the fact that I do not have ready transportation, nor do I have the means to pay for endless meals on wheels. It's the lackluster response from one particular branch on the tree that really gets me. I get hammered for being too involved, and others are close enough to be around, but stay completely removed.

The cousins who are hip to the idea of what I have been doing over the last year acted quickly. They are excited to get their family photos in the mix and have chatted amongst one another - and they've even contacted one or two to nudge them in to action. But those hold-outs...they are going to be put-out (maybe) once the final product is viewed. Hugs to those who have donated to the cause.

Mmmm...maybe the hold-outs won't care either, but there will be comments and snarky stuff from some source because I failed to include everyone, and I have had enough for the year. I am at my quota and will turn back whatever comes my way...with both barrels! Oh, and I do not want cheese and crackers to go with my WHINE (note the spelling).

So if you have a comment about my attitude, use the comment option here on the blog site or keep it to yourself. OR be prepared to find your choice words re-posted from my inbox for all to see. Yup, that's right, I would stoop to that level...the grinch stops here!

By the way, thank you WA, I have the photos! [hug you]

Delightful Craig Ferguson

I found this interview link while perusing a Borders sales pitch in my inbox. I love Craig Ferguson, and enjoyed watching and hearing what it was he had to say...hope you do, too.
Mitch Albom LIVE Episode 12 Borders Media

Update December 4, 2012:
SO sorry to add that the link (above) no longer works.  It appears as though the video was eliminated after Borders book store went out of business in the fall of 2010.  Take my word for it, the video was a wonderful bit of Mr. Ferguson being his usual impish (sexy) self.  [growl]

Didn't think I would ever have to defend my right to express myself

This is my blog...my diary...MY life (loaded with my experiences, my feelings,

Darn! My furlough is half over!

I will be returning to Gram's the day after tomorrow, but for a very short stint. [yea!] Then I'll have more than a week before heading back just one more time in 2009.

When I head to Livonia, everything goes on hold.

I have a list a million miles long I want to get through (my own 'honey-do' chores and needful things) once I get home on Friday. Now that I have my motor revved and my gumption boots pulled up to my thighs, I want to keep moving on my own projects - this stopping and starting is hard to deal with.

Time away from home always makes me buckle down and work a little harder to put things in order once I return. Like the Christmas tree and other decorations...I put off doing anything, especially after decking Gram's and her building lobby tree (and the dining hall). I wasn't in the mood to string any more lights or place any more decorations. But then, I woke up last week wishing we had a shiny little something in the living room to look at, just to mark the holidays - and out came the little tree trio. I need to light the smallest of the three, and once I do I will snap a photo and post it.

And this just in from left field:

I am excited (to say the least) to see which entries made it into the top 5 in the Faygo contest, but I am in need of patience. The marketing company handling the Faygo web site is notoriously SLOW, so I don't think it will be a first thing in the morning sort of posting for them. Sometime tomorrow will we know the outcome of the voting for the "Wee Love Faygo" contest (no, that is not my typo...that was the name of their contest), and then I will either jump for joy or walk over to the neighbor's yard and kick their dog.

Fingers crossed, prayers muttered, voodoo dolls wincing in pain....

I know, right?

Have a great evening, and for Heaven's sake, stay warm.

Don't forget to bake cookies for Santa

Did you remember to be good to yourself?

Keep in mind that you are the person who knows your likes and dislikes better than anyone else, so make certain to give yourself permission to get something just for you during the holidays - even if it's only a day off to sit in front of the tube and watch your favorite movies for several hours.

Oh, yeah, and bake a few extra cookies for yourself...have 'em with a tall glass of milk while you view those movies. ;^)

Doorstops and dreidels

Like a spinning dreidel, I move in and around, whirling and wobbling until I fall over. Then I am scooped up and sent whirling in another direction, depending upon the job and the need.

I arrived at Gram's on the ninth, to replace the woman who stays with her during those periods when no one from the family can be here. It seems I tag team with her more often than I do anyone else. Mostly, that's a bad thing.

Nothing is ever done (or, done well). It generally means dishes must be re-washed, laundry is not done, there's always a lot on the floor to be vacuumed, and she never dusts. Plus, she drops her medication and diabetic needles on the floor in the spare bedroom we all stay in, and doesn't bother to pick it up. I understand accidentally dropping something, but when it's meds or something that could pose an injury, bend over and pick it up...for crying out loud!!!

Gram has been in a rather over-tweaked mood this time around (I think it started with the doorstop I replaced). She has complained constantly about just about everything, and it begins and ends this time with being cold. I understand why - at 98 years old, it is hard to regulate your body temperature, and she is really feeling the gusts and bone-chilling temps we are experiencing outdoors.

Almost as soon as I arrived two days ago, I made for the windows in the two bedrooms. I attempted to tightly shut hers and then latch it to stop the breezes and the mournful noises. But it was no good.

So, I ran into the back bedroom and grabbed that pane out of the window and hustled into Gram's room, thinking I might find the fit a little tighter...or at the very least, the latch might actually close....AND IT WORKED!! It took a good deal of persuasion though, to get the window out of the track before moving it, but it was worth it.

Gram's room was now airtight as far as the horrible, non-insulated window was concerned.

Back in the guest bedroom I stuffed the ill-fitting (PITA) window into the track and pushed it shut, getting it to latch with just a little effort. At last that one was also FINALLY closed and not allowing the blustery 60MPH gusts into the apartment. We slept in comfort for the first time this winter without Gram cranking the thermostat up to 80*F.

When she complains about the other residents there not being social, I remind her that it is a two-way street, and sometimes YOU have to make the first move. Waiting for everybody else to knock on your door can be a futile endeavor. So when she raises the subject about the lack of folks to chat with, I encourage her to take a walk and knock on at least one door to simply say hello.

Sometimes it works. Sometimes she comes back complaining about having to make that overture (when she shouldn't have to...), and chickening out at the last minute.

Should I get as old as she, I shall never cloister myself behind my door and then crab about not having company!! If I entomb myself within my walls, I will relish the time and keep myself busy until such time I may choose to re-enter the world - with gusto!

When her pastor called out of the blue, he asked if he could stop by and bring her communion. She has complained about the lag in his visits, but when he called, the first thing she said was "Oh, I don't know. When? When were you thinking? Not today?" And he replied with hurt surprise, and told her it was the only chance he would have since he was going to be quite busy for the next several days. So, she acquiesced, and excitedly decided right then she would have to shower. You would have thought it was the Pope who was on his way (or Luther...since she is not Catholic). :^)

Her emotional pendulum swings faster than a woodsman's axe, and is three times more harmful.

When he arrived, the Pastor complimented her holiday decor. Commenting on the front door, she said my mom and her sister Joan hung the blue and other adorable things on the inside (bells, stockings...), but as the outside was my work, all she said was "somebody else did that part."

He complimented the Charlie Brown tree - tall and perfectly proportioned for her little home. She told me she wanted a blue tree for the holidays...and I trucked over quite a few ornaments to hang from it's boughs.

I suppose it is a matter of taste and up to one's likes or dislikes, but she said she liked it originally. However, she has since said to others that it isn't all that pretty. The Pastor said is was interesting and that the ornaments were lovely. She later conveyed to me that he really didn't say too much except that "...it wasn't all that much to look at and he didn't say it looked nice or anything."

Um, ouch!

And again, she said "The girl who's here now, she did it. I suppose she tried hard."

Smack and powie!

It's a good thing I am not all that attached to my name or my identity, or I would be a basket case.

This nameless dreidel only has two days to go before she is home for a scant two point five days. I need to recoup and lick my wounds where at least a couple of creatures on this planet [might] like me. Although, I do admit to wishing I was one of those cousins whose names she can remember and pull out of her twisted mind with ease.

Done with the surgery and most of the worrying

My youngest brother had surgery to remove a large (enough) tumor growing on his right lung. As a matter of fact, the surgeon decided the best course of action would be to remove the entire lower right lobe, along with several lymph glands - to be on the safe side. They described it as "cancer surgery", due to the radical nature, and they are performing biopsies on the tumor to determine the type. It will also determine whether or not (and what sort of) further treatment might be called for.

The wait on the biopsy results is expected to be two weeks or more, so Andy and mom are on pins and needles over that. Although, for the time being, the roughest part is over. He may not be breathing very comfortably right now (however, he IS breathing)...but at least mom is not holding her breath, as she has been for weeks, now.

It was a long day, beginning with the car ride to Ann Arbor at 5am. The Veteran's Hospital there was not an easy target, and mom wasn't the best person to be driving, but it was her car, so I bit my lip a lot when she took her own route here and there. Once off the expressway and actually in A2 proper, I urged her to stop so I could get directions from a "towny." The local Farmer's Market had an angel in the guises of a grumpy old manager, who told an office girl to print me a map "on the gizmo"...which she did. God bless them! From there, it was a quick drive to our destination.

If mom had had her way, we would still be driving in circles, tracing and re-tracing miles of road, looking for exits that weren't where we were going to find them. I knew a lot of this was due just simply to the anxiety and motherly worry over her child and the upcoming surgery. I would have been at my wits' ends, too.

Once, we were less than a mile from the hospital, and she refused to give up on turning around to follow her instinct rather than her nose (AND the directions), because the corner street sign to her was quite clear about what road we were crossing and not actually on.

Oh, I know - this is hard to follow. You had to be there for any of this to make any sense.

Suffice to say, she wasn't any too happy about letting me navigate and get us to the hospital.

Andy's directions were in her head, and not on paper...and that was where the trouble began (as usual).

We arrived and found the correct floor, and Andy's friend, Toni - another nurse in the kid's life, who walked mom through all that she knew, and let us know we had gotten there well before he was to go into surgery. At the time we arrived, he was in pre-op prep, and was complaining about being hungry, wanting a smoke, and needing a beer. Pretty darned typical.

When we were told to go back to see him, mom was biting a shaky lip and trying to corner the surgeon, whom she referred to as a "smart ass" from that point on. He kept dodging answering her questions point blank, and she kept nailing him to the wall, the floor and any other stationery surface she could find. It wasn't long before they wheeled the kid away, and we were left to wander back to the waiting room.

And wait we did.

Long story short... (shut up, Aaron, I know it's too late for that already)

From 7:45 am to about quarter of three that afternoon, we pounced on the phone in the waiting room every time it rang, only to hear some other family's name to page. It was heartbreaking. Surely, we thought, after 4 hours, some word would come to us...but it wasn't for almost 2 hours past Andy coming out of surgery that we were finally the name mentioned from the other end of the phone.

Oh, were there going to be a lot more questions for that chicken-sh*t doctor. Apparently, he was supposed to come out and speak with us after the surgery to let us know what and how, but he never did. The staff in post-op were surprised to hear no one had informed us of anything, and we were told that they were quite busy around 1pm, and that was how it was that nobody let us know he was in recovery all of that time.

BS! I say. Truckloads of BS!

Mom and Toni fawned over him, and I exited to the waiting area to catch my breath before calling scores of people to spread the word that the surgery was over, and Andy was awake.

We camped out in the waiting area for several more hours, until Andy was wheeled to his room in the intensive care area - where he would spend the next couple of days - and all of his belongings and clothes were stowed. Mom made certain he was going to get all of the "necessaries," and that questions got answers before leaving, and of course, Toni was there for a while after we left.

12 hours after arriving, we were on the road for home.

It rained the entire day (in more ways than one). Helluva way to kick off the month of Dismember.

Thank you for the thoughts and prayers. I will keep you updated.

Dismember finally arrives

November is the month where all of my summer (turned fall) regrets catch up with me. We had a long string of really lovely days where I should have been out in the yard taking care of the pruning, trimming, feeding and furniture. Instead, I kept promising myself I would do it "tomorrow."

Lots of "tomorrows" went by the wayside, and nothing got done. Then, my last-chance beautiful days were spent at Gram's, so less than nothing was accomplished, and I became more doleful and angry with myself over it all.

And here we are...in the month of Dismember, and I look out my windows and see everything where it doesn't belong, and I think about how I squandered all of that time. I didn't even clear space in the garage to harbor the things which required bringing indoors, so there it all sits on the back patio and deck...reminders of my laziness and malaise.

But, the new month brings with it a new moon - shining and clear.

Somehow, to me, a new moon always looks hopeful and shiny (in a spectacular way). It's always a thrill, and equally amazing, at how it seems as though a street lamp has been placed outside my windows, and the light is brilliantly faint blue and tremendously illuminating all at once.

I never cease to be amazed at the sparkling clarity of a new moon. Even in my glum mood regarding the undone yard work, the new moon nudges at the corners of it all and helps to dismember the structure of deep disappointment in myself, even if for a small amount of time. The light seems to find chinks in the construction and then wends it's way into deep recesses and chasms, bringing encouragement and awe which overrides the gloom momentarily.

I find myself feeling some redemption in the knowledge that soon we will be entering an entirely new year, and do-overs are a possibility.

Welcome back, Dismember - I look forward to the next 31 days.

Noticeably thankful today...what about the rest of the year?

I am at Gram's, spending this holiday - and the weekend - with her; my sons soon to be driving in for dinner and a few hours of visiting. Spent the bulk of yesterday packing, preparing, packing, schlepping, driving, unpacking, schlepping, unpacking some more...then peeling, cutting, chopping, mixing, pre-baking (hey, at least it wasn't more "packing"), cleaning. And all of that before dinner! :)

Just the journey to Gram's alone is orchestrated chaos. Taking things to do for the time there, and making certain to have all of the do-dads necessary otherwise having taken all of the stuff was sort of a waste. (Found that out the hard way, once...but only once.) Making certain the ride down won't interfere with Brian's schedule, or anything else scheduled for that time - nope, still don't have a car, but then, I don't have a job either, so I guess that explains why I don't have a car, yet. Planning and doing to have some things in order at home before leaving so that I do not come home to more chaos than I left behind.

All the while I wonder what am I forgetting, and what have I left behind?

Bills, clothes, food, boys, cats, meetings, undone things that will now have to wait until I return.

I need a haircut (random, no?).

I am thankful I have these things to occupy my mind and my time. Although, there are days when I turn around and retrace my steps wondering what it was exactly that I accomplished. Honestly, there are days when the answer would be "not a damn thing." Lots of days when it is more like "not a whole hell of a lot." Still, many, many more where I would have to answer "oh well...I guess there is always tomorrow."

I am thankful to still have my house.

Thankful to have skills and talents - and would be even more thankful to be able to share them with a PAYING employer. That sounded a bit more ungrateful and bitter, didn't it? Sorry.

I am thankful the kids are healthy and intelligent, and possess talents of their own. I am also thankful they can take care of themselves and the house - for the most part - in my absence.

I am thankful for my mother, and if you know me well, you know why.

I am thankful for my improving health.

Thankful that next year I will have the chance to ply my trade, skills and initiative with gusto, instead of sitting on the sidelines because Harvey kept me down.

Supremely thankful for friends - and you know who you are. Without you I would be...friendless.

Oh, I am sorry. That was too easy and very predictable.

I am thankful that my friends would smile at that last attempt at humor.

I am thankful the heat is on, the electricity works (without many problems), the water from my tap is clean and tastes good, my cats aren't gourmet catfood eaters, and that I have had the pleasure to have known all of my grandparents and most of my GREAT grandparents in my lifetime - a distinction I find many people sadly do without.

I realize these things, and MANY more, every day and relish my blessings on some level all of the time. What about you?

I hope you have things to be thankful for, and that you can recognize them without having to really try too hard. Even the adversities are a blessing...for they make us stronger and more prepared for the next time.

Thanks for stopping by.

No news, yet

I am keeping my thoughts positive, but not getting my hopes up.

Went on an interview last week, and I know it will be a while (or, that is what I am expecting) before calls are made or emails are sent to inform some of the 44 interview-ees of the positive results.

Mom says not to get my hopes up or want it too badly. After 2.5 years of unemployment that is sort of hard to do.

No news (is good news?), but I will let you know when the paper finally hits the doorstep.

Keep good thoughts, everybody.

Nutty weather

We have been enjoying a rather unusual weather pattern for...well, all of November. Yes, all of it! The last time I remember weather being this nice in November was just about a dozen years ago.

The boys were little, and I had a best friend. We were still a family living in the boonies - just before I decided I had had enough and began looking into divorce and starting over.

Things at home were tense and becoming uncomfortable day by day, and I leaned on my friend for my mental stability. I was also seeing a therapist (as I had been for years). It began with my going to appointments to benefit Karl, but grew into his therapist recommending I also seek out someone to talk to.

I did.

It worked. After nearly four years, I realized I was never going to be happy with the way things were going in my family. The more I worked to improve life, the harder 'he' ran in the other direction to destroy the peace. To shatter my calm. To trash our marriage and our family.

At the height (or, depth) of this discovery, Linda and I decided it was the perfect time for us to take a mommy trip for some fun and time away. After all, them men took their hunting trips and reserve weeks away from us, so why not turn the tide and return the favor. Two homemakers on the road and kicking up their heels.

She had four boys, and I had two. When we got together it was usually at her home, and it was as though the Lost Boys had control of the kingdom. She was used to it - I was not. She and her husband had the large family my ex wanted (but he could never have been the kind of father it would take to raise that sort of brood). Linda had everything but their finances under control, so I often wondered why she wanted to go on mommy trips when they had no way to afford it.

Anyhow, one year we decided to go to Chicago - and off we went. The temperatures hung in the 60's and we couldn't believe our good fortune! Wandering around the Windy City in lovely weather and holiday lights...what fun.

Well, here we are again - maybe not the 60's, but these mild temps are pretty darned nice, so no complaints (unless it gets gray).

Enjoy your week, people, and (at the risk of sounding trite) remember to be thankful for all things.

Never having anything you can count on

...except the sting of diappointment in most details of your life.

Not for nothing...

...but I joined Twitter. Don't ask me why, but I did. Ellen now has one more follower - stalkers in training, more or less.

Nothing like perseverance

It took quite a bit of pushing, several telephone calls and some email to get it done, but the video is finally out there for viewing. Here is the link to the Faygo site where I have an entry in the latest contest.

"HOOAHS LOVE FAYGO" at http://faygo.com/ContestDisplay.aspx?id=401.

I would appreciate your support in accruing votes during this competition. It's very easy to do - simply click on the link and vote for the video (it will start automatically). The three fields to fill in require only your name and a valid email address...don't worry! you can deselect the little box to make certain you don't get Faygo spam (unless you want to), and your vote is verified to count. Yes, they have to go to this extreme because in previous contests, people were "stuffing" their website with fake email addresses to win.

If you have access to more than one computer and several email addresses to choose from, you can "vote" more than one time per day, unfortunately, you need to be certain each vote (from a particular PC) comes in more than 24 hours apart - they are not too technically savvy and have really made it tough to get the job done. Ah well.

I appreciate your efforts so very much, and if you wouldn't mind recruiting a few friends or family members, too, we can really rack up the votes. The entry was posted very late in the competition due to many errors and difficulty made on the Faygo marketing end, so we are at a bit of a disadvantage, but...a new vote from you, every day, puts us closer to our goal...Thank You for your support!

With a lot of perseverance, we can push to the top 5!

Numbers

The big five-oh.

Oh yes, my older brother is 50, and I am scratching my head trying to figure out when that happened, because I am not at all happy with the knowledge that I am not all that much younger than he.

Happy Birthday, Aaron! Wishing you were closer so I could cook you dinner and serve you mom's cake. [Hugs] to you, big brother.

Nearly 8 o'clock

I have been awake since six a.m., wondering how long into the business day it would be before Faygo reps loaded my video into the public viewing area of their contest page. Now, I am excited and nervous...hoping the same viewers online through YouTube will revisit the Faygo site to vote and push our last minute entry into one of the top five spots.

It's crazy to think that as of this morning the views have blown past 300! Can you imagine! We would most certaily have a chance to win one of the top five prizes if this were on the contest site. Ah well, at least it is getting looked at, and the comments (for the most part) have been very good. One rotter decided to say "What has this got to do with Faygo?" - to which other viewers smacked him about by suggesting he learn the Faygo theme song and adopt a better attitude!

If Faygo...sorry. WHEN Faygo finally gets the video approved and out there, I will post the link so that you can go to watch the two minute video and vote for the entry. You can vote once per day with your legitimate email address, and so if you have more than one working email address, you can vote once per day with each one! [wink wink...nudge nudge]

Good morning, and thanks for looking in. More soon, I hope.

Nucking Futz!

That's right, I said it. Nucking futz!

And if you keep staring at the screen like a guppy saying hello to the outside world, I'm gonna say it again.

It looks as though Faygo won't be loading the video entry until Monday sometime. It appears as though whomever approves entries before they appear on the website for viewing doesn't review over the weekend (wish they bothered to mention that in their web page with all of the garbage they did post). Seriously, something simple like: "Please note, all entries will be reviewed prior to posting to our contest page. We regret there may be a delay over the weekend." You know, something that says 'we won't be bothered to be diligent with your entry and update our site daily.'

Nucking futz and doggone it! Two days of voting time lost!

I guess I am not surprised as they did not even bother to state a deadline with the contest rules for the first 2 months the contest was open.

At any rate, the video of the Hooahs playing the Faygo theme song (fading into a rousing ending of the MSU fight song) was uploaded to YouTube for the band members to see, while we waited for the silly thing to be viewable online with Faygo. All weekend it's been garnering views - and I have to laugh, because between Saturday morning and now, it's been viewed over 260 times! Just imagine if those could have been votes online at Faygo instead of mere views!

Nucking futz!

Well, we have until December 1st to get votes in, and we only have to catch up to the first five places with 1000 votes cast (probably more now). Nucking futz!

Well, if we can get 300 views in just 2 days, I guess we can get enough in the next 14 days or so, provided Faygo gets off of their collective Mountain Mists and gets the darn video loaded into the public viewing arena!

It's nucking futz, I tell ya!

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

I have a last-minute addition to my calendar - I will be going to Gram's soon to help cover some time my mom couldn't manage, due to car issues. The trip for her to get to Gram's is roughly 540 miles -/+ (for me it's about 35), so when she has a car issue, it sort of takes over. So I am sneaking a little prep time to type this update before finishing getting ready for the fast approaching time away.

Friday the 13th had me in Detroit with Karl for his post extraction check-up, and it looks good according to the dentist who checked him over and answered our questions. This young Dr. removed some of the more stubborn stitches they placed on the left side, and Karl did a great job despite nerves and trepidation. The kid had "stuff" to say, and didn't pull any punches when there was a little discomfort for one set. The doctor laughed and said, "I love your humor and sarcasm." Karl looked at him strangely, trying to gauge exactly what was meant, but he couldn't quite, and since there were hands and instruments in his mouth, Karl just relaxed and let the dentist finish his work.

Karl was given the 'all clear' to eat more solid food again, and the first thing he said was he wanted a Panera sandwich!

Well, OK.

After making the rounds and saying goodbye to the receptionist and friendly nurses, dental assistants and office manager, we hightailed it to the car and pointed ourselves in the direction of the Rochester Panera Bread restaurant for that sandwich he wanted so very badly. We arrived to find Phil at the counter, smiling and welcoming, and very genuine. We ordered the sandwiches (including one for Brian), got a few bagels for breakfast the next day, a couple of 'celebratory cookies' and a pumpkin muffin for desert. Phil tried to cajole Karl into a cold coffee drink - an iced mocha or a caramel frappacino... you get the picture, but Karl declined, and Phil said "well, if you're not in the mood, then that's that," smiled and totalled us up. We were starving, to say the least.

A couple of minutes later Phil said to Karl "Hey, I forgot, we have smoothies. How about a delicious smoothy?"

Karl struck a pose, and actually appeared to be contemplating it when Phil then quietly said "How would you like one on the house? C'mon, you have to celebrate getting your stitches out."

I had to kick Karl in the butt by telling him you never turn down something "on the house," cowboy! With that, Phil set to work making Karl a free strawberry smoothie - can you beat that?!

For Karl the day just kept improving, and by the time we got home, he had snarfed down the first half of his turkey and artichoke panini and finished the smoothie, still raving about Phil. I told him he should put it all in a simple note to the manager of that store so that Phil can see it and get a good review from his boss (for his excellent customer service). I will let you know what comes of it.

I finished the video I have been working on for a competition, and while it's been posted to the web site, it still hasn't been approved for viewing, so no votes can be cast until that happens. No doubt the approval won't happen until Monday, so there are two days lost, putting us further behind the other entries already gathering ballots. But, the video is on YouTube for the Hooahs to see before it can be voted on, so hopefully it will gather steam, and once we can begin gathering votes, we should be ok. The contest ends the first of December. As of this morning, there were 6 views, but I checked half an hour ago and there were over 120 views! Kind of cool, really.

More on that another time, for now I really need to finish getting things in order and plow through the rest of the laundry, too. Best thoughts to you all, and keep checking back. When I return from Gram's I expect to have the newest quilt top pieced completely and a photo posted of the progress, and another color combo cut to assemble. I'll show you those colors, too.

I know, I know...why cut out another when you have three that still need quilting (well, 6, really)?

Hey, nothing ventured...

'Til we meet again, stay healthy and happy.

Nearly nightfall

It's closing in on four o'clock in the afternoon, and I love this time of the day (at this point in the year, that is). The alcove in the library, where my PCs live, is not exactly bathed in sunlight - or, any light, truth be told - unless I want to open up my emaciated coffers and throw money at the energy company to turn on a light.

I had replaced the center ceiling light (a standard fixture in ALL mid-fifties-built ranch-style homes) with several recessed lights to make it easier to see book titles anywhere on the shelves, which now line most walls in the room. Years ago, I even included the installation of a lamp in what once was the closet when I reallocated the little room for a better purpose.

What once was a bedroom you entered through a door mid-way down the central narrow hall is now a sweet extension of the typical ranch living room - a library you access through French doors between it and the living room.

The sun at this time of year sets at such an angle as to penetrate the library around 3 or so, and move lovingly around the room until it reaches the alcove and covers my keyboards with glorious sunlight, unimpeded by leafy trees and heavy shades, drawn to keep the heat at bay. After little more than an hour or so, the power of the direct sunlight wanes, and while still providing workable light, it begins to feel - and look - more twilight in nature. It approaches the roofline of the houses on the next street over as it sinks in the sky and our planet turns, and soon, the beautiful orb will be settling in the sky for another evening. I always make certain I am sitting in the library on fall afternoons.

So quickly fly the daylight hours in the late fall and winter months.

No way! Binary Day!

I just think it's funny/odd/a quirk of happenstance, whatever you want to call it, when the date and time provide us with little coinkydink things like................

Say it together, class!

Binary Day!

What? You've never heard of it?! Oh my, what rock have you been hiding under?

Look at the date and time of this blog entry. Yup!

It's eleventh hour and eleventh minute after, into the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the year.

OK, so I know it's not 2011 ('11), but it is now officially 11:11 11/11/09. That's close enough for rock-n-roll, don't you think?

News

For those of you wondering 'why hasn't she written anything in two weeks?', well, let me fill you in.

I began two entries while at Gram's, but never got around to finishing them - so many intermitant interruptions in being there that sometimes I get derailed and never go back to finish the thoughts and post the entry.

You will find two of those entries at the end of October, should you care to back up and read them. They aren't long and may even be fun to catch up on. Otherwise...

November crept in and I watched in horror as realization of another lost year was a meer 60 days away.

It's been a somewhat busy handful of days, and while I certainly have had time to write, my desire just isn't 'there'.

Karl had his wisdom teeth extracted on the 5th, and that was a day - let me tell you. On that same day the taping for Bible Quiz Time started up for the new season, and I am once again sitting in the Sound Engineering seat. Third year!

I had to be in Dearborn (by 8:00am, I thought, as we have always been), only to find everybody else far behind timewise. That's OK, I used the time well.

Sweetly, Brian agreed to drive Karl south to meet me at Ford Road and Telegraph by 12:15pm so that I could take him to Detroit's St. John Hospital Center of Dentistry for the surgery. Since you shouldn't have anything to eat or drink at least six hours prior to anesthesia, I had to get Karl up for a bowl of hot cereal and milk before jumping in the car to head to Dearborn. That all happened around 6am.

I know, right!

The hand-off went well, and both Karl and I were starving on the drive to Detroit. He was nervous but did a great job all around. On the drive home he said he was thirsty and ravenous, so we opted for a malt from Big Boy to make things better. His incredibly numb tongue almost tasted the flavor, but the cold liquid was a gift, and it took his mind off of some of the happenings (at least for a little while).

On the way home I called around to find an inexpensive way to buy the antibiotic and pain meds prescribed for the boy, and it wasn't until I got home and was in panic mode that I called the little family pharmacy I used to frequent when I had a job and insurance, and found they were only asking for a FRACTION of the cost of the antibiotic! Go figure.

Fast forward: Karl is doing splendidly; eating soft foods has morphed into soft homemade chicken fingers, salmon patties and spaghetti with meatballs. Most of his discomfort has been on the lefthand side where the dentist said one of the teeth was a little more trouble than the others, and they ended up putting a couple stitches in to keep things closed. Laughing and smiling are now his biggest pains, for the most part, but I think he is keeping his teeth clean and rinsing enough, so we may have passed the roughest part without incident and infection. He has roughly four days left of the antibiotic, and we go back to St. Johns for a final appointment/check-up on Friday.

Thanks for caring and for your good thoughts and prayers.

November nothing

For the past nine or ten days I have been waiting and looking and corresponding and nursing and hoping, and have been hopeful...but mostly, I've been waiting. Oh, and wary, let's not forget that one.

Do you know that expression "knock on wood"? It sort of goes hand-in-hand with "bite your tongue", the evil eye and "ptooh, ptooh, ptooh!" (you Greek friends will understand that last reference).

I have been editing and practicing with the PS, but as of yesterday, my 'monster'' is basically worthless. I am dead in the water.

I was all set to spend the day cutting in the last of any video footage into the Faygo contest piece and to insert a bunch of stills - I even edited the MSU gnome and an old Faygo bottle to use as pop-ups - when, to my utter shock and dismay, the timeline wouldn't play and there is no sound when I manually scrub the video!!!

What the #!&%!?*%$!&*!!

The idea of having to drive the CPU and both monitors down to Sterling Hts is not an option (at least, not one I want to think about, if I can get around it somehow).

I won't even go into how much time I spent on hold (29 minutes) with the Micro Center helpline technerd before he told me the extended warranty I bought (for hundreds of dollars on my $3600+ monster unit) does not entitle me to troubleshooting privileges over the phone. But, I could pay by the 15-minute increment for that sort of assistance, if I wanted to! Argh!! Grrrrrr. "Sorry, ma'am."

My head was going to explode.

The cats scattered to dark corners and places they knew I wouldn't storm off to. The boys tried to console and cajole me, but I was snarky. Even the TV was berated and nearly strangulated, and I am not through - even though it has been overnight already, I am still in no better frame of mind.

So, back to what I was saying...

I made the stupid decision to verbally flip off the karma deities by uttering that ignorant - and harmful - phrase, "it can't get any worse," and I knocked on the table when I said it, too! I mean, for me I figured I was already at the bottom of that barrel and there wasn't anywhere left for me to go but up, right? I mean, improvement in my entire situation (employment-wise, health-wise, etc) was imminent, or so I thought. I mean, when I said it to myself I was being hopeful, not bitter or recriminating of the crap that has already befallen me (over the last 2+ years). I wasn't sneering at my circumstances and cursing at the fate hags and morons. No! I was, in fact, saying I was ready for my turnaround. My inference was wishful and hopeful and positive. I knew good fortune and a turnaround was forthcoming.

No, no, no.

Nope, karma bit me in the butt once more.

Who knew 'they' could let the bottom fall out of the barrel?! Really! Who knew? Actually, truthfully, I think it wasn't so much that the bottom fell out as 'they' took a hacksaw to it to make their point. Really! I am pretty certain I heard the sounds of sawing a la Loony Toons.

Never...and I mean NEVER, ever ask yourself how much worse can something get. Never! At least, don't do it while I am anywhere around.

Overtures

Overtures signal change.

The dictionary says otherwise - "a prelude, a musical introduction, a beginning," according to Webster's.

Overtures happen all around us all of the time, whether we notice them or not. They happen in our everyday lives. They happen in nature, in business, as a course of aging and learning...in living and dying.

Overtures aren't just for operas and orchestral arrangements any more.

The last couple of days I've been with my grandmother, and I have noted a decline in her energy level. More naps during the day, and they last longer and the sleep seems much deeper than before, too. Less willingness to go out and ride the scooter, let alone her lack of desire to go for a walk outdoors. She still takes a stroll around three halls, but usually she returns to the apartment saying she couldn't go the distance..."so maybe I'll go do the rest later."

I am fearful of saying goodbye to her, and I know this is selfish.

She is ready to go. She wants to go; step into death and not be here any longer.

We have many conversations, Gram and I. Some disjointed and hit-and-miss on the topic; lots without any sort of clear identifiable topic; many regarding her bowel movements (or perceived lack there-of); but many more dealing with why God won't let her simply pass off her mortal coil and join her family. "I'm the last one, everybody else is gone," she muses bitterly, wistfully. And she is the last of her generation.

She misses her bothers and her sisters-in-law. She misses dear friends. She misses Grandpa. She thinks about why she is still here and what good is coming of it, and questions why He has not called her home.

Gram aches to be out of her body, desirous to be liberated from brittle bones and bladder discomfort. Her sense of purpose long since spent and her independence now replaced by many companions sleeping in her spare room and monitoring her every need and activity. She is ready.

So she goes along from day to day waiting on the phone to ring, hoping for a card or note in her mailbox, following routines that include pills and salt water and a morning cup of coffee while watching the morning show with the sound turned off. Her walks around the halls sometimes result in casual flitters of conversations with other residents, and her return to the apartment means a recounting of the meager encounters.

I tell her instead of waiting for others to begin a chat, YOU engage them in conversation. Lose your apprehension and knock on a door and say hello, but use your time to your advantage so you can share a smile and stave off someone else's loneliness. In doing this, you will ultimately lose hold of your own fears and forget to wish for being 'elsewhere.'

I say, hum a new overture, no matter who's definition you harken too. Play a new melody.

Oh, for Heaven's sake

If it's not one thing, it's another. I know just how right that is, too.

I am having a crisis of faith - the "big kind" and in myself, and I really couldn't tell you which one is worse.

Instead of things getting better (or, at least plateauing), they seem to be free-falling into more chaos and uncertainty. I didn't really think things could get any worse, so I figured improvement and something would come of my efforts over the last two years...instead, I seem to have found the world's biggest employment black hole.

Is there a viagra-type pill for my career?

OH wait, what am I saying?

I haven't got a 'career' as such...only a career choice.

And, even if there was a pill, I wouldn't be able to afford it anyhow.

Overdue dinner menu

Chicken Pot Pie.

That's what I made for dinner last night because I thought the weather was so appropriate, and my tastebuds were calling out to me.

And wouldn't you know that the weather is about a million times worse today, and chicken pot pie really sounds good. Alas, the boys demolished it last night, and when I looked in the fridge this afternoon, I found a portion left in the container! That's right, one wedge! One!! And Karl just ate it.

Well, I guess their mama can cook, and I should be glad they have good appetites. I am simply surprised that pie didn't last a little longer, it was pretty big.

Handmade crusts, diced potatoes and carrots lightly pan roasted in butter and canola oil. Onions coarsely chopped to sprinkle as a hefty layer over the layer of vegetables and pre-cooked chicken, and a final liberal topping of peas before the seasonings were added and everything went into the oven for about an hour and a half.

Man! I am telling you the smell of that pie baking was enough to make me forget a lot of the rest of yesterday. From time to time I would look over at the girls sleeping on the bed, and Hobbes would lift her little face towards the kitchen and sniff the air. You could see it in her eyes when her gaze met mine...'when is it going to be ready to eat?'

Let's hear it for comfort foods!

For now, I am stuck trying to figure out what we will have tonight. Whatever it is, it is still in the freezer or yet to be conjured from contents of the pantry and cupboards. Now that it is 6pm, it had better become apparent pretty darned quick. Although, Karl has just eaten that last piece of pie, so he should be OK for a while, and Brian is out with friends for the evening - so he is on his own.

Mystery dinner it is, and I am thinking we'll have it on the European timetable, too.

Bon appetit, everyone!

Over the river

OK, well, we pass a few bodies of water, and I do think (technically) we cross a river on the way...but the important thing is that we visited grandma Schaffer and my mom for dinner, and spent some time playing cards and Sequence while visiting. I will be back to stay with Gram on Sunday, so I am preparing for the five day stay now.

This time I will be taking my sewing machine along for those moments when...

Yesterday was beautiful, and I am having a hard time believing that today is warmer (or will be) than yesterday! It is too overcast, chilly and windy to make it to the predicted 70*F promised. But then, I am beginning to find most things promised are never delivered.

Going back to my sewing and sorting. Making hay while the sun shines, for tomorrow they are promising more rain, colder temps and dreariness. Somehow, I think they will find a way to make certain those things come to fruition.

The buggers!

Onions and mushrooms and butter and spinach

Mmmmm....sounds like quiche.

I put butter out in a bowl a couple of days ago, and I think I was going to make peanut butter cookies. I was in the mood for an apple pie, but those darned cookies sounded so good. So I made neither!

Now, I am wanting quiche, but need to pick up spinach and more mushrooms to make it happen. I used the last of the spinach earlier in the week when I sauteed it with red peppers and onions (and a healthy dose of 'shrooms) to put in omelette's for the boys.

That reminds me, I need to get eggs as well.

But, if I make a smaller quiche, and settle for a smaller apple pie, I could make both the pie and the quiche and just keep dreaming about those peanut butter cookies.

Oh, and that reminds me I need to pick up bread, too. Karl and his PB&J sandwich cravings have left us bereft of bread.

Ode to joy

Joy is experiencing the thrill of a Saturday morning theatre - light (almost non-existant) crowds and a $5 movie!

Holy schmoly, why did no one ever tell me how cool (and inexpensive) it is to see a new movie that way?

My boyfriend was splendid, and lovely, and his co-star was pretty darned good, too. Sorry Jean, but Gerard will always be the master of all I survey, and it truly has nothing to do with his striptease and close-on butt shot...and shirtless walk to the car in cuffs and low-slung jeans. Holy cow! and thank you Mr. Director!

Acting schmacting...you can't fake pecks, an incredible six-pack and mmmmmm-yum yum body.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you!

Go see Law Abiding Citizen.

Now, add to that the supreme satisfaction of an MSU win over Northwestern this afternoon (homecoming weekend for the Spartans), and you have a pretty good day. Top it with a nap and peanut butter cookies, and...well, what can you say? A little bit of quilting and the promise of warmer temperatures for tomorrow (maybe the chance to pull some freaking weeds from the once pretty flowerbeds) would be all it takes to turn this wreck of a life around.

Everybody, be well and happy.

Oh, happy day!

We once again have heat!

The round little character who appeared in our driveway less than 20 minutes ago (a cross between Peter Lori and an unkempt Charles Laughton, with an English dental smile) informed me that he could have easily been here yesterday - even last night - to have fixed this quick-fix problem! There would have been no charge, and no extra bother for him.

Oh, and the kicker...he said I wasn't the first person to tell him that the initial call to DTE was more than two days old. That, indeed, no service call is to ever be more than a 24-hour wait!

Somebody at DTE deserves a good swift kick where the sun doesn't shine - repeatedly.

Thank you round little Richard.

Now, where are my work boots?

Odysseys abound

There is an expression, "camping in your own backyard", but doggone it! We are not in the yard!

I like to wander and experience adventure as much as the next person, but I do not believe you should have the camping experience in your home!

The furnace repair person has a four hour window to get here, but that four hour window doesn't start for another 2.5 hours! Thankfully, we are now in the daylight hours so the temps will begin to climb soon. Also, it could have been much worse weather-wise, making being here much more miserable in turn. So, I am thankful for that, too.

I went to East Lansing late yesterday afternoon, with Jean, to see Barb practicing with the marching band - prepping for the MSU homecoming game. It was very cool to watch all of those crazy students high-stepping it and performing their choreographed routines in bone-chilling weather. I had the video camera with and got some neat shots, as well as another pass at the Faygo song, as performed by the Hooahs (most of them, anyway). Now I simply need to edit together the entry for the contest. I'll keep you posted.

Lastly...the quilt is progressing slowly, but here is another shot of what has been achieved, to date. As you can see, I stitched the blocks together into rows, and then assembled a couple of rows together just so I can feel a little more progress over the entire thing. Seeing the rows built gives you a bigger feeling of accomplishment. Yesterday, I spent no time at all on the thing (nor did I work on it the day Karl went to Detroit), so I guess I can feel a little less guilty about working on it today for a while, eh? Not much of an adventure, admittedly, but I will take my little odysseys where I can get them.

Okey dokey

So here is the next chapter in the furnace story:

The outdoor temp got to a crisp 35*F overnight, and the thermostat read 62*F in the house this morning - a five degree drop from the ten o'clock hour. I phoned the repair number listed on the DTE website to take advantage of the service I have been paying for monthly all these years, only to be told the next possible day they could get a repair person out here is FRIDAY!! between noon and four p.m.

Seriously? Call another vendor, please!

I suppose we are lucky the snow hasn't begun to fly and the average temperatures for the next several days will be in the 40's, but really? They can't call another vendor?

I am so happy (and thankful) I had that insulation blown in several years back, or it would be a popcycle-fest in here by now. It won't stay too terribly warm (in the 60's) between now and the next 28 - 30 hours. In fact, without radient heating, the temperature will continue to fall inside.

I do have the fireplace lit and the fan on, but the only area that heats is the open section directly around the largest room, the floor for the boy's rooms directly above (to a small extent) and the ceiling over the staircase - cuz all that lovely hot air travels to the gaping stairwell hole and migrates up...staying in the vicinity of the front door in the living room.

Flop continues to shadow me, despite the fact that her sisters are downstairs gathered on the bed near the fire...typical cat behavior.

Tonight, the boys may well end up sleeping with me in the lower level; them in my bed and me on the couch.

Hey, warm is warm, and it makes the best sense. Besides, this was the reason I had the fireplace installed, now we need to use it. I just wish the damned electric company and the gas creeps weren't profiting from this little adventure. The b-stards!

Pardon me, it's just the cold and the circumstances, and lack of work, and having no car talking. I'll be shiny again another day.

Oh, my gosh!

Are you kidding? If it isn't one thing, it's DEFINITELY another.

Ten o'clock at night and we just determined that the furnace is on the fritz. Brian said he felt chilly all day, but the furnace was working when Karl and I left home for Detroit, so it had to have conked out well into the afternoon hours. When I checked it out about 20 minutes ago, I followed the label on the side of the furnace to restart it, without success. So we are doing the popcycle thing tonight. Fortunately, the indoor temperature is at 67*F presently (it could be worse), and it shouldn't be too cold tonight [insert laughter here]. The boys can sleep in my bed, next to the fireplace, and I can sleep on the sofa right around the corner (it is warmer in the lower level). The fireplace will keep us warm enough for the night, and the repair dude can remedy the situation in the light of day.

What's that you are asking? Oh, yeah, the appointment in Detroit was at the St. John Medical Center's dental offices. We met with an oral surgeon for the initial consult and to get xrays done. God blessed us with this appt, I am certain, and the cost was a mere $60!! What a relief when everywhere I called for a week yielded hugely expensive charges and rates!!! $60 may seem like a lot of money, but the alternatives were staggeringly high! Without insurance, the price of living is too pricey, and without work, insurance is nothing but a dream.

Karl's right two wisdom teeth are due for extraction the afternoon of November 5th, and my mom wants me to have them extract the other two as well. "...as long as he is going to be 'out', why not?" she asked.

I am not in love with that line of thinking to say the least, and I don't want to be bullied into that decision. Plus, it's Karl's mouth after all...

Anyway, the deed is half done, and in a few short weeks, we will be able to take care of some monster problems in K's mouth.

More later, but 'til then be well and warm and thankful for all you have.

Omens and jinxing

Do you believe in that sort of thing?

Jinxes......and omens, for that matter. Do you put any stock in them? Do you find yourself throwing salt over your shoulder should you accidentally spill some on the dining table? Do you feel compelled to ward of bad mojo and voodoo vibes if somebody else utters the phrase "Oh, that nevers happens to me," or "I haven't choked on a lozenge, yet," (for instance) while laying in bed with a cold?

You beg them to knock on wood to prevent fate from evening the score. But do they?

N-noOooOOOooooOOoooo...of course not. This is the type of person who dares the lightening god to hurl a bolt because they think they are immune to that sort of consequential punishment. So what, they spitefully sneer, if they are standing outside during a hellacious storm, wearing a suit of aluminum suit and proffering a long metal rod to the clouds.

"It's funny and the odds are in my favor...and besides, I am wearing rubber underwear and sneakers. Come get me!" they yell at the sky.

Because that hapless nitwit just provoked the challenge, I now must concern myself with the simple issue of walking down the street with him the next time it begins to rain, and wonder - am I standing too close to this marked man?

Ah well, just a funny thought that has followed me throughout my day since watching a new episode of House last night. Well, that, and I had a dream the other night - one of those repeat dreams where the situations, characters and specifics always come out the same (really weird), and you wake before there is resolution, only to wonder if this is something that will happen in time, and will I make the same choices when it finally does.

I suppose this means I need to add "deja vu" to that opening list as well.

Omens and jinxing and deja vu.

Open windows

Today is another Monday, dark and chilly, and filled to the brim on my calendar.

With several chores needing looking after, I will be out the door soon and on the road the balance of the day.

I need to meet the tow truck up at the repair shop to have my trusty Mazda hauled away to a scrap yard, for which I will receive next to nothing $-wise. From there, I will head to the dentist's office to retrieve a referral and a prescription for Karl's wisdom tooth troubles.

Upon returning home (following getting the prescription filled), I will pop dinner into the oven and prepare to head to the UM-Dearborn campus to meet up with Therese and John (among others) to get acquainted with the new digs for this season's round of taping Bible Quiz Time. This is the sound job I have held for the last couple of years, starting off as an intern during the first season, and becoming a paying job last year. The drive is a little much, especially during the southbound morning rush traffic. There is no good way to get to Dearborn from here - no quick way, anyhow - and after an hour+ in the car, I am ready to scream once I arrive. But I have been asked to return year after year, and have received lovely compliments for my work and attitude and ways of dealing with the children participating in the taping. So, that can't be a bad thing, right?

New digs, new equipment, new places to park and familiarize myself with.

Perhaps this open window will lead to another open door.

I pray it will be so.

Oh, yeah, a photo of the latest project

It's fall, so I have begun another quilt...why not.

What else, right?

I happened to be in a position to go into "The Icehouse Quilt Shop" this summer, and after having heard so much about it from a few sources, I was expecting a phenomenal experience. A superb quilters mecca retreat. A feast for the eyes...blah blah blah.

It wasn't what I expected fabric-wise - to say the least - there was a very limited selection. After being spoiled by living near (and shopping at) so many noteworthy quilt shops over the years, with tremendous amounts of material to choose from, I was non-plussed by what I encountered.

Although the building (with it's neat history and lovely antiques scattered here and there) was fun to visit, the real reason I ventured inside was met with disappointment...sad to say.

I did manage to find a few funky materials that sparked a creative note, and I happily bought small amounts of each, making the clerk cutting the third- and half-yard pieces wonder (and ask) 'why so little?' Well, at nigh on $9 per yard, I would have to use the lovely bits sparingly.

Usually, I steer away from oranges and really garish prints, but something about these spoke to me. Just over this last year I have actually been keeping my eyes open for opportunities to add orange to my stash, sparingly and in a very choosey manner. One of the new fabrics was almost retro in appearance, and the other was just too homey and childlike in it's pattern and color palette to ignore. They dared me to touch them and dream.

And so I did. Here are some pictures of the resulting mixing and matching, and the beginnings of the new endeavor.

Snail Trail

It takes about an hour to assemble (2) perfectly stitched squares, resulting in half of one finished block. There are (20) pieces per square, and I scaled the pattern to result in 6.5" sq. raw blocks, so when they are sewn together, the finished blocks equal a foot each (not including the seam allowance). Bound, the quilt will be 3'x4' - unless I add a border or two (and when have I ever not added a border?).

Yes, the blocks are rather small, but I think the time and effort to make this load of triangles come together perfectly is worth it.

I have been working to move a little quicker with the construction, so that the time utilized for each block is less than an hour, and the fastest I can assemble two squares is about 45 to 50 minutes. I must be careful, though, not to stretch or skew the biases during sewing and pressing, or it means a lot more time wasted in removing stitches to reassemble it.

I do love perfectly square blocks.

More later.

Only time

So far, I have wept twice this morning as I begin another October day.

The sun is brilliantly lighting the sky, and it's rays are bouncing off the leaves on the trees. The golds and reds reflecting the light and multiplying it, illuminating the interior of my home in a promising way. You would think this sort of beauty would make you smile, open your heart and mind to happiness and hope.

You would think so.

No, the tears are due to heartbreaking stories. Words and images that touch a deeper place in my heart and resonate too vividly in my mind to avoid feeling that ache, even with the golden sun.

The first opportunity came while watching a story about a four year old girl - whose picture is circling the globe - because she couldn't let go of her father's hand as he fell in to formation, preparing to deploy to Iraq. She was with her family at a military base seeing her daddy off, when the troops were told to fall in. She followed him to the tarmac and hung on against all urging from her parents.

The image tugged at my heart and made me think of everybody who would do the very same thing if they could.

A little while later, I logged online and checked the usual places for more news and mail and greetings from friends, etc. I found news in one online community that a new friend had lost a brother over the last week due to an unfortunate accident, and is suffering this sudden loss along with her family.

A bright, enthusiastic, engaging young woman - I can't imagine her in the throes of this sort of grief.

Aside from losing my grandfather (far too early), I have not had to experience the death of a brother just yet. Thank you, God.

My heart was torn by thoughts of loss - as a mother and as a sibling.

Her brother Jack was, in her words, a Renaissance man...choosing a life of unconventionality. Not quite fitting in anywhere, but going where the wind blew him and choosing to enjoy life no matter what, wedging himself into the things and places he found interesting.

He was a scholarly person, a solitary soul, a happy man, a deep thinker, an adventurer and a member of a loving family. He wrote beautiful poetry and cyphered ancient languages. He lived.

And now, they grieve.

We go on after a loss such as this, knowing somehow things will return to a more normal state over time. The hole will never fully close, the pain will never fully subside, the loss will never totally leave our minds, but that's how we know we are still alive. We are here - we are left behind - so that those who have gone before will never be forgotten.

Only time can get us past this sort of moment in our lives.

Only time.

What will you do with yours?

Gin, my thoughts and prayers follow you, dear friend.

Obfuscation

I guess I am not really obscuring much, not so much as I am currently avoiding most things...at any rate.

Like right now, as an example. At present I would tell you I am doing dishes.

At three in the afternoon? you may query.

Well, yes. This is when I am choosing to curtail other activities in order to stand at the kitchen sink and immerse my mitts in extremely warm soapy water and eliminate the small accumulation of dirty utensils, pans, plates, bowls and the like. What's the matter with doing it in the middle of the day? I would ask you. It's not as though I have anything else more pressing to tend to on this dreary, WET afternoon anyway. I have nowhere to go, and little chance of getting there (wherever it may have been) anyhow...without transportation.

[rasperries to you]

You could have concentrated more on the fact that I am not really doing dishes at this very moment, rather, I am furiously avoiding doing them as well by sitting here on the computer and filling in my own blanks.

But, by the time you figure out what it is I have been trying to point out, I will have already returned to the kitchen and finished the dishes and moved on to another mundane chore.

Have I clouded the issue enough. Have I obscured rational thinking for you for the moment?

You're welcome.

Oh, I know...

You were wondering where I was, what had become of me. Why isn't that woman blogging?

Truth be told, I am in a funk, down and out and as blue (not vulgar) as can be. I found out a week ago - while I was at Gram's doing my grandma-sitting duty - that the rats I worked with in Grayling decided to hire "locally" to fill my position. Despite asking me to travel with them to further xCTC's around the states, I received a last minute email saying they decided to save money and hire locally.

So, for the time being, I am licking my wounds and cleaning house, looking for work, investigating a class or two and quilting to try and elevate my mood.

I'll let you know how it goes.

All's Faire...well, let's see what happens

We hopped on a train bound for Chicago to see the movie on a big screen. It was at a small film festival in the Windy City - last movie on the docket - and we thought this would be the only time we might get the chance to see it in a crowd of people who would give honest opinions and reactions.

Plus, honestly, how many times do you get to see your son on a movie screen, in a theater (and your friends...and yourself for that matter)? It was a neat way to spend two days with my youngest son, and my best friend. Maybe "neat" isn't the best word, but it wasn't bad. OK, it could've been worse (could have been a little cheaper. Who knew? Long story, maybe I'll tell it another time).

We did not see much of Chicago (to say the least), although we did have two great meals and a pretty good nap! Karl took two naps and still went to bed that night relatively early.

I think the most significant memories for him will be the fantastic, tasty, Chicago-brewed root beer, delicious Irish food, and the neat photos and memorabilia to stare at, that was plastered all over the walls at the pub we dined in next door to the theater.

Although, I truly feel he did enjoy the satisfaction of seeing himself on the silver screen, it was simply tempered by the horrible editing, the memories associated with the other guard in the scenes, and my shush-ing him throughout the film. That was rough (let's hear it for Autism - yea).

There was a lot they could have done with the film - and so much tripe they should have left out (it was edited to make buddies and sycophants feel good, and not for the storyline), but what can you do? The version we saw was a rough cut, and as such, poor lighting and graininess was huge, and the credits were impossible to read. I know they can, should, might fix it down the road, but I think selling a better quality product from a schlock production company might be easier.

If it comes out on DVD, you can bet your boots I will be buying several copies, but if they intend to sell it for commercial release, there is still a lot of work to be done. A LOT.

Do you hear that, Patriot Productions? Get busy and fix that film!

All that being said, I still enjoyed the thrill of watching something I had a hand in. Seeing it from a different perspective than from the behind-the-scenes vantage point (and sometimes in front of the camera) I participated in.

'appy Birthday, Brian!

To my son, who is 23 today...

Happy Birthday!

I had such words of wisdom for your brother on his birthday this year, and it seems as though we were in this same position last year (cuz we were), with nothing for me to offer either of you due to lack of funds.

This marks the third year I have had to face the morning of your birthdays (each of you) without anything/much to give you.

At some point in the NEAR future I hope to be able to make up for all of the missing bits. Until that time, though, I hope you know I have given you everything I can that money cannot buy.

My heart (which you have always tugged on).

Faith in your abilities.

A desire for you to believe in yourself.

Humor.

Love of your fellow humans.

A sense of right from wrong.

A moral compass.

Great genetics (sorry about the stuff you got from the other side).

My love (which you will never lose).

Happy birthday, sweetie!

Another stuffy dawn

Day seven (and my mom tells me it's the flu, not a cold), and that, because of the surgery, my immune system is compromised and weak and, it will be some time before I can expect to breeze past illnesses that come up...blah blah blah.

Awe, man! And now I need to replenish the tissue supplies, too, and make certain neither of the boys comes down with it. Those are my major concerns for the moment, but enough about icky things.

I spent the day yesterday in the company of friends and good people (strange people, really), but the friends were the best part.

The early part of the day began with sunshine and hungry kitties, and plans to head to our tiny little downtown weekend Farmer's Market and score some excellent local produce! I was disappointed to find the FM not up and running as usual on this particular bright Saturday morning, but that an arts and crafts show was set up instead in the park across from the location of the FM normal haunts.

Bummer!

I guess this town can only handle one thing at a time...and without any sort of notice about the loss on the website, I found out the hard way.

Now, I know it's not the end of the universe, and I can buy a tomato and corn on the cob from a supermarket. But the taste buds want what the taste buds want, doggone it! and I wanted to give them their desires.

So, Jean and I wandered around the artsy fartsy stuff, and took note of some great things (few and far between) and laughed at the rest. Mostly, we had fun watching the dog walkers and their pooches - so many different breeds!

From there, we went to Main Street to hit up the bakery for a few tasty treats to make up for not getting yummy produce. Back home, I made smoothies and then got on the road.

Armed with a couple copies of my resume and working credits, I drove to Detroit for the balance of the day. I met up with Maria at Sindbad's (yes, the correct spelling - go figure) to watch/take part in the selection process of pitches to Rollin' On - Transforming Motown to Movietown. We thought we were to take part in the selection process - give comments, thumbs up/thumbs down to pitches - which is the normal process in this type of venue. Instead, Rollin' On used our 'participation' to simply drum up business for the restaurant and bar while they used the space provided to glorify the pitch session. For some silly-ass reason, they even employed make-up folks to apply their trade to the pitch people, and had at least 5 cameras rolling video during the process. Not to mention the 3 - 4 people wandering around taking photos of people and the action. (The lighting attempt was crap, and it was obvious there, too, nobody understands basic 3-pt lighting, let alone the idea of creating a natural compliment to natural lighting.) I watched in horror as the 'camera people' botched shots and left the equipment simply run unattended. And when it became necessary to adjust shots due to height variations or single presenters (RO called them "contestants") becoming duos or groups during a pitch, it became glaringly obvious these camera men didn't have a clue as to how to smoothly adjust a camera!

I WANT A JOB! I'll take their job - they don't know how to do it!

It was poorly run and no real regimen was followed, either. Pitches are normally limited to 3 - 5 (maybe six) minutes - sometimes no more than 2 or three minutes...but some of these folks went on forever! There were six panelists representing the 'studio' doing the lookie lou for a new show or [however many], and they were clearly bored much of the time (and disinterested - so much so that much of the time there was not much follow-up Q&A to many of the presenters we saw).

Also, these 'contestants' were obviously not told how to prep, or what to bring with them to give to the panelists - like a copy of your synopsis, your treatment, your crewing breakdown, etc. Without standards to follow, these people end up thinking there is nothing to showing up for a session like this in the future, and when it might be for a professional network (or studio), they will arrive with empty arms and no clue as to what to expect.

What a disappointment.

A woman from one of the associated [faux] production teams, agencies, whatever, walked up to Maria and hugged her, mistaking her for somebody else. So, Maria turned Deborah's attention to me and said "This is my friend, Beth, who has worked on several...Beth, you tell her," and left the door wide open for me to make my own pitch.

God bless you, Maria!

Luckily, I had my poop in one sock, and deftly handed her a copy of my papers and mentioned a few of my experiences while she listened. She said she would hand it to Jody (something-or-other) and would mention me to her, hoping it would lead to future work. We shall see. With everything going on there yesterday, I wonder how far my resume and credit sheet made it, in the grand scheme. In all of the confusion, I wouldn't be surprised if those pages became scrap paper!

But, wouldn't it be cool if I came back from Florida to an offer of some somewhat regular work?!

Yes, I say, yes it would!

After listening to 17+ pitches, Maria and I decided to head out. That's when we found out there was no real reason for us to be there - no comments or participation from us was required - that we were simply seat fillers to make their day out seem worthy of attention.

This was why we signed releases? Come on!!! We saw only one really good idea, and one more with promise...but that's two out of more than 17!

And yes, I know those are pretty good odds, but what a waste of our time!

Still, I got to spend some time with Maria, and we ended up leaving Sindbad's and she took me on a lovely, EYE OPENING tour of Grosse Pointe Woods, City, Manor, Lanes, Park, Arbor, Landing, Trailer Park, Farms.

Wow! I had never been down river before that I can remember - at least, not there, and it was beautiful! Not only that, but Maria's house was beautiful as well! It is in a Detroit neighborhood "just the other side of" one of those Grosse Pointe-burbs, but what a lovely neighborhood! Her refrigerator is bigger than my living room, and if I could, I would be her neighbor.

She showed me her quilting/crafting area - and she has space! What a set-up. She has cable and the washer in arms reach for getting right to business, and plans, plans, plans - but no time. Why does that sound familiar? ;^)

With school consuming much of her time, she is doing what she can to organize, but would rather be having fun making things instead. Trust me, kid, I know that song and dance. She was bitten by the quilting bug a short while ago, and has been building a stash like there's no tomorrow. Add that to her beading and jewelry making, and all the other creative sewing she manages, and there's a recipe for a no-time-to-spare meltdown.

Anyhow, all this to say I had a great day, and I am looking forward to heading downriver after I return from FL to spend some time gabbing and sewing (or whatever) with Maria for a bit before the next big adventure. She is having fun.

Thank you, Maria, for the fun day in Detroit! It was great seeing you - and I am a lucky person to have a friend like you.

Needless to say, I will also be taking the boys down to that area to see the loveliness which is greater Detroit during the holidays. Maria says they really deck the place out, and that I would like to see.

A-choo...a-hem...[hack hack]

Excuse me, but I am on day three of a nasty head cold, and I have a horrible headache and a wheezey cough.

I don't even want to be around me!

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Always watching

I feel like a lifetime observer.

Always an outcast, a misfit - never quite fitting in (not even in my own family), and I have felt this way my entire life.

To make myself a part of the happenings I employed a camera.

I have hidden behind the lens of a camera to view life, to be involved, to participate, to be 'there' and be welcome. Without one, I am invisible...feel unwelcome and highly vulnerable.

But this isn't always a bad thing (being that fly on the wall, that is).

Yesterday, I had a great time observing MSU's marching band get ready for their performance at the home game against Central - which, sadly, the Spartans did not win. But the band is remarkable!

The smaller pods of instruments (sax's, trombones, flutes, flag bearers and the mighty Hooahs, just to name a few) all splinter off, after an exhaustive rehearsal, to have breakfast with family and friends and relax. Then, they wander back to (wherever) to dress in those natty uniforms, only to reappear maybe half an hour later on Adams Field and warm up in their respective team pods - led by exuberant and intelligent team leaders. Once the warm ups are complete and photos have been taken, the entire band assembles in formation to tune up, run thru a couple of numbers, to finish applying spats and gloves and whatever else to their ensembles, checking pant creases and hatbands for sharp edges and unruly trim, and then they rile up the familial crowds - and themselves!

All of this before they begin a mildly rowdy half-mile march to the field to begin the game.

And wait til I tell you how involved the parents are - you would never believe how elaborate and committed (how insane) the breakfast preparation is to feed these kids out there along the fringes of Adams Field! It was really very cool.

I loved being a part of it, watching from behind my lens.

Hooah!