Life goes on

When this whole quarantine thing began I made the choice to send Karl away - in the off-chance I really did come in to contact with someone who really had the virus, I would not be endangering him.  With his asthma (and the double heart infection a few years back), there were no two ways about it.  He could not remain here with me being out and about.

The kid has been holed up with his father for two months.  At the time, he was not happy in the least, and refused to pack more than two of anything (underwear, t-shirts, night clothes, etc.), thinking there would be a quick determination that everything would be a fast whirlwind of activity and panic, then all would return to a scary sort of normal.  Well, we all know how this has gone, don't we.

After all of these weeks, he's still not happy, but he's not as sour over it any longer, either.  Every so often I will make the drive to visit and drop off banana bread or dinner dishes (because there isn't a whole lot of home cooking going on there), spare clothes (which he turned out to be truly grateful for), his desk chair, an Easter basket, books, his favorite tea; you know, basic POW packages but with an additional pay-off.

I miss him.  So when I take him something, I cash get to in, too.  Just seeing him replenishes my lonely heart.  On my last trek I took banana bread (two loaves they could share), tea, fig newtons and a hug!  Yup, we did - and he initiated it!  And what's more amazing, he has lost some weight - quite a bit from the way his pants were cinched and pleated.  He doesn't think so, and somehow he's not feeling it...but he looks so good.  This has been a Covid blessing, and I couldn't be happier.

Of course, it will be wonderful to have him back home - when it's safe - but for now it's pretty good.  Life goes on and we will be back to all things normal eventually.

Life goes on

Made it through week 3 with our new 'assistant'. 

Someone asked how it was I could "replace" Booker so easily, and I almost burst into tears at the thought.  I was affronted by their thoughtlessness when I really should have felt sorry for their ignorance (or simpleminded attitude).  We weren't replacing Booker; we found an assistant who could help Odin out of his grief.  Although, perhaps we were replacing Odin's loneliness with companionship.

Be assured there is no way we could ever replace Booker - ever.  But, Odin had a need and that was clear.  We weren't about to shirk our responsibility to him.

Let's face it, humans are OK as slaves to their cats, but we are far from perfect buddies and playmates.  Oh, sure, we supply food, water, doody control, warm laps when required, catnip, new toys, clean linen for their queen-sized beds, good head scrubs and belly rubs, and on and on...but we are not the be all and end all when it comes to the perfect companions. 

Some cats need other cats around to either share every waking moment with or ignore with impunity (whilst following one another around the house all day long).  Aloof?  Absolutely not.  Indifferent at times, sure.  Independent?  Absolutely true, but also dependent and faithful and loving.  But do they pick and choose when or if they are going to favor us with their time and company?  Oh, yeah baby, and I'm OK with that.  But between cats - whether siblings or randomly adopted clowders - they are much happier and healthier when they have companionship. 

Our new little crazy man has been assimilated lock, stock and barrel, and we couldn't be happier with the outcome.  Simon has been inserted into our family dynamic, and Odin is much happier.  He is no longer wondering the house from top to bottom, crying out for Booker for hours on end.  That stress would have taken a horrible toll on his FIV-infected body, and that was not an option I was willing to take chances with.  Simon is the guardian of Odin's well-being now, and he is up to that task.  An older adoptee wouldn't have been the same sort of 'assistant' at this time, but when our next big change takes place, our lives and hearts are open to another lovely soul joining our clowder.

Nature loves me

I know people who believe our departed loved ones are represented by something (or things) that they themselves took delight in while they were alive.  For example: one of my friends has written a story about her mother's respect for spiders, and the way she took care to never kill one.  If found in the house, her mom would go to great lengths to remove a spider to a better place - every time.  So when my friend now sees a spider - especially in out of the way places or at odd moments - she feels her mom's presence quite strongly.

Others believe the sight of a cardinal means your loved one is with you at that time.  They 'appear' because you are confronted with a decision or an issue that has you in turmoil, and the cardinal's presence means you're not alone.  Cardinals also 'hang close' when those who are gone corporeally have been heavily in your thoughts.  It's a comfort thing...a blessing.

I believe in those things, too.

Although personally, my missing loved ones are represented by cranes.  Well, cranes and herons, but this is a distinction without a difference - to me at east.

This week was especially blessed when, on the drive to work, I saw five magnificent cranes flying directly over me.  I am absolutely certain they were my glorious girls and boys, and all at once I felt immediately saddened and delighted; there's no other way to explain it.  To see them all together made me catch my breath, and I wish with all my heart I could have pulled over and simply watched them soar until they were well out of sight.  I'm pretty certain the other drivers around me would not have been as thrilled with that decision, so I gawked as best I could given the circumstances.

All five in a tight pod.  Sleek and powerful, and beautifully bonded - and I knew straight away that this apparition couldn't have been anything other than Cleo, Flop, Hobbes, Jake, and Booker letting me know they'd found one another.  A bittersweet message to receive on the way in to work, yet it filled me with comfort for much of the day - even as the memory of it wrung tears periodically.  Isn't it amazing how similar the feelings are between happiness and sadness?

Even when all else around me is a disappointment or a struggle, I know nature loves me - thank God.

Endings and beginnings - and all of the stuff that happens in between

Simply Simon

It's been two weeks of Simon already - two weeks today.  Odin adores him, and is having infinite fun in the romping and chasing category, although deep in the recesses of his brain I am certain there are remnant thoughts of Booker;  traces of affection and respect, and an unidentifiable longing for his big brother...gone but never forgotten.

It took two months for Simon to come into our lives.  No, there wasn't a lot of searching that happened, but Karl couldn't let himself open up completely to making a choice and bringing home a companion for Odin.  I understood that, and I empathized, but I also saw a need to move forward during our collective period of grief.

Besides all of that, Odin was extremely miserable - lonely and alone, and mourning the loss of his buddy.  He still jumped at the odd noise around the house, and called incessantly for our large orange sweetie, and truth be told it was getting  harder to deal with on a daily basis.

I was determined to fill the void left by Booker's departure, but also felt pangs of guilt in ways I am sure many pet owners will understand.  What felt like disloyalty to Book was understandable, but not insurmountable.  Karl and I could have gone on a while without inviting a new cat into our lives, but Odin was inconsolable.  That became the impetus on my part - it made Karl miserable in other ways, but it gave me a reason to keep my heart open to the perfect opportunity.

My mind was set on an older female (for reasons I won't bore you with here and now), but Simon was the one who presented himself a couple of Saturdays ago, and the rest is history.  As you can see from the photo, he is a scrawny kitten of approximately 18 weeks of age - so that makes him about 4 months old.  He's tiny, and as it turned out (despite vet papers provided by the rescue agency), he had fleas; we found this out the hard way.  Both boys are wearing flea collars now (yes, Odin ended up with them, too).  But this wasn't the worst of it, either.

Last Saturday became a very expensive run to the vet clinic which the rescue bunch had taken Simon's litter to.  Ended up with two vaccinations and an oral treatment, plus the rather expensive flea collars.  And I won't even make you guess that one of the treatments was for tapeworm.  Yup, tapeworm!  So, here we are, $155 poorer, but Simon is that much better for it.  Hopefully his robust appetite will help to put some meat on his little bones over the next few months.  Right now he's curious, playful, loving, and excellent company for Odin.

The splendid Booker - rest in peace

Farewell, Booker...you are much loved and will be forever missed.

Karl experienced Bob Seger live!

The last time Karl experienced a live concert, it was a flop.  We had the unfortunate experience of sitting on the lawn, and a pack of thoughtless concert singers (concert screamers, really) sat down behind us.  Not only did they sing, yell, and loudly talk the entire way through it, they smoked non-stop...and there was no breeze to drive it off.

That evening was an unmitigated disaster, even though it was James Taylor, and we ended up leaving early - way early - just to get away from the concert-wrecking a-holes.

I have been to several concerts since then, but have never been able to get Karl interested enough to overcome the 'taste' of the worst experience ever - no matter who was on the bill.

Well, let me tell you, Bob Seger was the answer.  Managed to score unbelievably expensive lawn seats to the second-to-the-last concert here in town, and we got there in time to settle on the lawn in a decently sized piece of heaven.  Karl had a book to read, and I brought a sewing project; that helped to pass the time for the hour and one-half before the opening act took the stage.  Had we not surmounted the knob when we did, who knows where we would have sat.

Anyhow, Karl was on his feet more often than not, and he sang along with a lot of the music he recognized from the radio.  He was genuinely surprised at the number of tunes he knew, and heard a good deal more that interested him (that he would never have attributed to Bob).  And the best part was every time the band left the stage after announcing, "Good night, and thank you!," I refused to pack our gear and make for the long migration line to the parking lot.

I got 'the look.'

"Why not?" he'd implore, and I'd just smile and say, "encore."

"But he just played an encore."  Karl rolled his head back and looked at the night sky, throwing his hands out in fits of desperation.

"Just wait," I'd say.  "Give it a minute."

Those of us with a divine insider's knowledge knew to continue applauding and shouting out our heartfelt appreciation.  Bob was there, and just out of sight, and we didn't want his reign to end...but if there was a slim margin to entice him out a third time, we were going to clap until our arms fell off.

Then booyah!

Our favorite hometown boy did not disappoint.  Three encores and a raft of songs that became an entire concert set all on its own.  Thank you, Mr. Seger, for a wonderful shared experience for my youngest and myself.  It was a birthday present memory he will carry with him for a long time to come.

Oh, yeah, and we are still thunderously applauding - thank you for your music.

I love the Material Handlers & Re-Pack Folks

No two ways about it, they made me feel important and missed.

Their friendship and caring, and the concern they expressed, made me feel like I matter.  Some of the best medicine - EVER!

Golly, it was a long day, and I am not too proud to admit I am pooped.  I also have a feeling it will be an awfully long week.  There is a lot of overdue work in my inbox, many requests that need tending to, and still the 100% verifications to contend with.  Sorted through the glut of tasks and made myself a game plan for the next few days. 

Was not surprised to learn the new QC Eng did not pick up any slack, nor did the WH Lead, who had a huge hand in creating/allowing the mislabeling debacle.

For those of you paying attention

In January we had a drop-in guest during that
horrible cold wave (Polar Vortex #1 of 2019).

Do you remember the story?

Do you remember what we named her?

Can you even recall what type of
critter she is?

Well, Click is doing fine, thank you.
Our 'keeper' tells me she healthy
and content, and is on track for a
successful release this spring.

This is happiness.
[sigh]
<3 p="">

It's been a wild week, in more ways than one

It was as though I could feel the biological clock ticking for Click - "Click" being the name we gave our drowsy, confused, nocturnal upstairs-turned-downstairs drop-in house guest. Not knowing whether it was male or female, "Click" seemed the safest moniker to bestow, and, as there were no objections, "Click" it was... er, um... IS.
Oh, yeah, and it's a girl, everybody!
As I was droning:
...every hour labored by, and I grew concerned over how much time was passing, hurting Click's chances for returning successfully to her torpor. Let's face it, a bucket in a cold laundry closet versus wedging oneself between layers of insulation and a warm ceiling in an attic are hardly matching states of temperatures and conditions. Plus, she's now no longer able to self-regulate her own physical condition successfully, so that stress was taking a toll on her fat reserves and chances of survival.
You see, you don't feed or water a bat - or any animal - in that somewhat awakened state of hibernation, you let them be. But this was an exception to the rule of wildlife happenstance. Click had managed to self-regulate herself in torpor from her cozy attic digs into our living space, complete with much warmer temperatures - and cats! Her odds had changed drastically for the worse in the twitch of a wing. I knew it was critical to keep her safe, and to also keep her cool - but how much cooler was cool enough?

Now you understand why that biological clock wasn't just ticking away - it was pounding like the inner workings of Big Ben. The window of opportunity for her making it through the week, let alone the winter, were slipping away.
This all began Tuesday, late in the day, as best we can narrow down the timeline. 'The twins' (Odin and Booker, for those of you not as familiar with our furry family) had probably followed the scratching noises of Click's movements above their heads most of the day, until she squoze herself through a recessed light fixture into our area.
Karl noticed Booker was fixated on something in the window (probably) much later in the day, and eventually Karl let me know that "something odd [was] hanging on the curtains - and it's clicking at me!"
Was it a moth or some other bug? I asked him. No, no. Perhaps a frog? No, and that's when he mentioned the noise; I told him it sounds like he was describing a bat. He said it didn't look like a bat, so I told him to look behind the drape panel (I still could not visualize how it was hanging from the drapes through our phone call) - and then he shrieked like a man. There was a lot of noise from his end of the phone, some his, some furniture he was crashing into, and some was the terror of the twins as they reacted to Karl's surprise.
The poor little thing was moving to conceal itself from approaching danger - things that would eat it. Confusion and noise (lots of both), and I was missing out; I can only imagine what it all looked like. [hilarity ensued]
I won't bore you with the ins and outs of the capture procedure - suffice to say you would have thought it an episode of I Love Lucy and not some random house on a quiet neighborhood street, with a loose bat evading two grown humans and two vigilant cats.
We made as many calls to numbers we could quickly locate that evening, just in hopes of getting some fast explanations on how to proceed, or where to take it for a safe return to the wild once warmer weather arrived - MONTHS from now. There's a Bat Conservancy organization in MI, for crying out loud - I know because I had planned to attend a huge presentation only the year before. How come I wasn't getting any of this info from anyone? Better still, why weren't any of the three advertised 24-hour 'call us any time' numbers taking calls at 8:45PM?
Internet wisdom suggested securing it without hurting it, or putting pets or humans at risk, and keeping the critter cool (but in a house?). We couldn't manage the 35*-40* (and we were not going to place the bat-in-a-bucket in the 'frig), but we could get a mid-fifty range to help a little towards the metabolic requirement. So, off to the lower level laundry closet it went.
Wednesday passed with a lot of web searching and phone calls. Hand-wringing was also a key part of the goings-on, but there wasn't much more we could do for the diminutive cutie except pray and continue to beat the bushes. With no access to my fb account while at work, suggestions stacked up and anything I could find online dried up with each phone call. I grew more concerned that there was no good plan coming to fruition in favor of our at-risk intruder. All the answers I received were either, "no, wrong number," "kill it, it has rabies," or "you've reached a non-working number." Infinitely frustrating.
One suggestion was to throw it outdoors, with the theory being it would quickly find a warm place - but I just couldn't bring myself to that end. Oh, maybe, had it been over forty degrees and no nighttime temps in the twenties, perhaps I would have had a less guilty attitude (and fewer thoughts of committing murder) and done that. But it wasn't and they weren't....so another night in the can ensued - along with the guilt and helpless feeling of this little bats' fate balancing precariously in my hands.
Knowing full well it was most likely now not in full torpor, and that it now most likely required water - if not food - I reasoned I would go to the local pet shop for some insect take-out on Thursday...no matter what.
Lest you think/ask why I didn't simply return the sweetie back to the attic, let me explain my thought process. If Click did manage to return to torpor and then back to more of a successful hibernation state, I had my doubts that due to the past 2 days of calorie-burning full heart rate and breathing (and warm temps), she didn't physically have what would have been necessary to sustain her through the rest of winter any longer. At least, that was how I felt.
I am a worrier - there, I said it.
If I did return her to the attic, would she succumb to the combination of what had transpired; would we find her remains later? Would she be barely alright through all of winter only to be too weak to make it out in the spring and die then? I just couldn't take that chance with her life. It wasn't my life to toy with, but it *was* my responsibility to help her.
__Fast forward to Thursday, because I fell asleep reading Wed night.__
On the drive to work, I dialed the one number I saw any quick hope in, and left a voice message. The person I called returned my message with a fantastic response, and I cheered several times as I parked the car and ran inside.
Buoyed for the rest of the day, I had a tough time making eight hours not seem like eighty, and I called Karl periodically to have him spot-check Click's condition. Now that I knew there was a huge positive chance, I had Karl put a container of water in the bucket. Click was going to be alright - I hoped.
Managing to peel myself away from work one hour later than I wanted to, I flew home to gather up Karl and Click to make the nearly one hour trip to the land of bat salvation. And, yes, I am going to continue being somewhat cryptic throughout this explanation, for reasons which will become obvious (to the smarter ones out there). Just kidding, because all my friends are pretty doggone brilliant.
There are only two trained/qualified/licensed/approved caretakers of wildlife creatures, such as Click, in the state of chaos (a.k.a. MI), and fortunately this person resides not too horribly far from me. Let that sink in - one of only two! There are way more needful creatures than can be cared for by two people. There's something wrong with these odds, people.
Lemme see if I can correctly describe the rehabbing dilemma in the state of Michigan. If I get it wrong, in part or in whole, a knowledgeable person can feel free to correct me. While bats are a protected species because of population decline - for many MAN-MADE reasons, it is illegal to care for them when an issue has been identified and care is required. The state will require training and licensing and reviews and fees, and all of that hoo-ha and folderol and more, but makes it illegal to actually perform the deed. Bureaucracy and hypocrites are kissing cousins!
Anyway, the long and the short of it is (I know, it's far too late for "the short of it") that our new friend - AND HERO - has taken Click into her care (no, I will not say 'under her wing'), adding to a fantastic community of rescued bats, who are over-wintering in a fabulous bat resort. I am now a small part of the bat underground, and will proudly help their cause in any way I can. Our rescuer gave Click a complete physical and sexed her, telling us she is a MI Large Brown Bat, I would have figure a small variety, but nope...Large Brown Bats are small, and Small Brown Bats are smaller, yet.. LOL
Click ate 15 mealy worms, which is good! She is a yearling, and was on the emaciated side of the scale, but will rebound nicely, and will be returned to the world in the spring once the weather mellows enough for the bugs to become plentiful and life-sustaining for beautiful little creatures like Click.
God bless the rehabbers of the world - they are few and far between, but they make such a huge difference in their own ways; their compassion has no bounds for those with no voice. I am blessed to know six, and number them among my friends. I am proud to be a batty subversive!

Catnapping our way to the end of the year

As I stretch out and relax a little, background noise droning quietly and the sound of the twins softly breathing around me, I can't help but finally enjoy the day.  The wind pummeling the windows sounds unforgiving, so I give thanks for this little house and the heat and the lights; not to mention the food in the kitchen, and the clothes, soft bed, running water, washer and dryer...

Thank you, God, for the blessings you've provided, and for the future you have in store for me.  Thank You also for the furry blessings in our lives.

The twins' rhythmic breathing has given way to little grunts and snoring - always a smile-maker.  Their catnaps have been contagious over the past several days, and since I have been home on vacation days (LOVING not being 'you know where'), I have been 'purr-suaded' on more than one occasion to let the drowsiness carry me away.  This decadent lifestyle will be missed when the holidays are over and my vacation time runs out.

Until then, please pardon me while put my head down & close my eyes for just a moment. > ^ _ _ ^ <

Not a day late, just the day after

Yup, yesterday was Christmas, and I managed to keep from uttering 'the phrase" to all but two people, - so, I feel as though I've achieved almost complete hermit status.

All of my cards made it out of my hands and to their recipients (at least I hope they made it to their destinations), but Karl dragged his feet and missed getting one of his (I say three, he says one) out the door and on the way.  Not a bad average

Karl and I each took a turn speaking with mom, but I truly wish she were here - or, at the very least, much closer. it would make visiting easier.  I am aware she doesn't want to leave her beloved northern tundra, her moose and deer, and that icy lake, but I think it's time to get her south of the bridge.  Much as she dislikes living in the land of the trolls, she should be moving into closer proximity to the bulk of her sibs and kinder - sooner rather than later.

We had dinner at the kids' new home in Holly on Christmas eve; it was fairly low-key, and the meal was delicious. 

Just in case you are behind the eight ball, Brian and Angels bought a condo - not too far from their old apartment - and it's a world of difference in size and sounds and smells.  Needless to say, the honeymooners are happy in their new digs, and the pets are settled in, too.  Bud will need to look a little harder to find work with a decent income in that direction, just to keep from having to drive great distances in his old car, but that was the decision they made.

No complaint here, but an observation: it's been a 'warm' season so far - between Thanksgiving and Christmas - and the weather peeps are calling for more of the same... and warmer!  With the bulk of winter ahead of us, I wouldn't mind a bit of this sort of thing lasting the next month or two.  Yes, I do prefer cooler temps to warmer ones, but you take what you can get, right?

The twins are doing well: Booker is far more playful again, so hopefully I can get Karl to play along when I am at work and keep Book moving more to rid him of some chunky monkey pounds.  Even a Maine Coon can be too large.  And Odin is doing better intestinal-ly speaking.  He remains rambunctious and Odin-rific, keeping Booker jumping with his spastic antics; and the FiV is well off in the background for the time being.

OK, so I've covered all of the bases for the time being.  I was trying to be informative and still keep from being too verbose; practice makes perfect, or so they say.  For now, I am going to tidy up a bit, then plunk myself in a chair and sort through some old papers and balance the bank account against the statement!  In the background I will binge on The Great British Baking Show, starting at the first episode.  Yes, I've seen them all before, but it's enjoyable (tasty) viewing, and well worth a second screening.  From there, goodness knows what I'll do, but it will be in the house and not out and about with throngs of people or crazy 'me first' drivers.

Oh, there is one item of note which I didn't go into, but it will keep for the time being.

Blessings to one and all, and safe travels to those on the roads or in the air ~

A Good Year

Perhaps I should have called it, "A Momentous Year."  Or even, "A Year of Grand Change."  Oh, there are too many other titles to bestow on this year - always speaking in the familial - but it definitely was a year of accomplishment and change, tumult (the good sort) and beginnings/endings.

At this time of year it is common to concentrate on being thankful, on joyous celebrations of coming together, burying the hatchet, seeing the good in everyone (even if there is none in some folks to see).  It is the time folks reflect on the year as it races towards another finish line, and think themselves better off, or better people, or whatever form of improved they care to blind themselves with.

However, under the heading of "my sons," it truly was a year to be thankful for.

Karl graduated from junior college with 2 Associate's, and

Brian married his lovely friend and partner, Angela.
Even I was able to come by a full time job this year ('bout darn time!).

No, I won't spend paragraphs going on and on about any of this.  Suffice to say, thank you, God, for all of your love and goodness.

But I will ask: why does it seem as though the majority of us only wait until this time of the year to be thankful for the many blessings which come our way over the course of 365 days?  Shouldn't we be more diligent in our thanks, prayers, and praise when the blessings occur?  Think about it... then respond appropriately.

With love and gratitude -

Salute to my mom

Shot a good number of photos at breakfast following the shower; and here are three important people being silly at the table.

Really...I can't take them anywhere.

Happy Mother's Day - I love you.

My thoughts are all over the place

I have to find a way to be as wise and capable of utilizing and filling the hours of my off time and weekends as I am at managing the hours at work.  What's up with that, anyway?

The last several months have been filled with so much activity and expectation and impending milestones, that I scarcely begin to concentrate on the first item when I realize I am nowhere near ready for the next one.  And then....WHAM!  The first event arrives and passes in such a rush, it's like watching a speeding train slam pass as you stand inches away on the platform - feeling the heady gust of tumultuous breeze in its wake.

At first you are knocked back a bit, but then the momentum of the tidal air catches you up and drags your clothing, your hair, your possessions along with the train's inertia.  It's irresistible in its force; the excitement, the speed, the unknown, the hopes, the dreams...

...and then it's gone.

It wasn't your joyous moment; you're just sharing it with the owners - or rather, they were just sharing it with you.  But that doesn't matter, because the need for adding happiness into your life in any way possible is a larger impetus than the actuality of simply being a bystander in your own everyday world, and hoping to find a little joy of your own here and there.

This year has been/is going to be such a succession of happiness and life changes for my family - oh, and for friends near and far, too (but never far from my heart).  2018 seems consumed with improvement and joy - and it's about time, too.  So come on, bullet train!  Speed through and make our lives better.  Stir up a wake of indescribable happiness and change.  The happiness will be a nice change.

That said, here's me, trying to find ways to induce myself to become more reactive; to be a person of action on my own behalf.  Here's me hoping to make change and improvements an everyday occurrence and not just something borne out of an immediate need.  Instead of lazily spending my weekends in a relaxed mode, I need to make myself more of a doer (not an overachiever, per se), more of a go-getter and a 'get-er-done-er' for my own benefit.

Wish me luck - or come give me a kick in the butt.  Either would be welcomed and gratefully accepted.

Fresh start(s)

My life seems to be a series of beginnings.

Lots of beginnings - some very unwelcomed ones.  Lots of very unexpected ones.  Many sought after and hard won.  Some longed for but lost, and others despised and egregious.  But all of them was a fresh start - for the most part.  Not surprisingly, those beginnings came with a price, more often than not.  On occasion they were anticipated costs - even precipitated by something I purposefully set in action - but a good number of the endings were shocks and disappointments.

Unfortunate as they were, even some of the worst endings brought about some great beginnings.  Those are the ones I would prefer to think about.  However, this is all a matter for another discussion at another time.

Currently, I am headed for two beginnings in 2016, and I couldn't be more pleased.  Although, it feels a very tempered excitement, I am eager to begin.  The first is quite obviously the beginning of the new year, but of course, you probably went there straight away, you clever reader.  The second is a new job - IN AN OFFICE - at long last.  There will be more on this development in the coming weeks, but for now, I must get busy if I am to make a dent in what needs doing over the course of the next week.

So, if you will excuse me, I need to slip away to the sewing area to start another new thing or two - a skirt and a pair of trousers.  There's also a top I've cut out and need to assemble, so I may as well get started.  It'll be nice to have some fresh clothes to wear on my first day.

By the way, I wrestled with the phrase "new beginnings", but realized a 'beginning' is actually something new, so why the need to qualify it as a 'new beginning'?

Wazzup?

Since the last post, a lot has happened/ended/improved/come-and-gone.  Here is just a sampling.

Been living from Tuesdays to Thursdays to get K-dub through his compressed college course, and he ended with a solid A!  Yea, Karl!  He even used the opportunity to get up IN FRONT OF THE CLASS AND SPEAK for an additional (but totally unnecessary) fifteen extra credit points, using as a topic one of his written assignments throughout the course.  I am so very proud of him for following through and taking the class when he really wanted to drop out of it all those weeks ago.

Brian went to a tournament in Chicago over the weekend, and had his own brand of epiphanies.  We'll see where it takes him over the coming weeks/months.

Must head to the library to take an online aptitude test (job-related), as our internet connection is so slow, and more than occasionally takes a diaper break in the middle of every operation.  Would hate for that to happen during the typing test portion.

Have gotten halfway through RowD, and can now begin to look ahead to RowE.  One-quarter of the quilt is nearly OFFICIALLY complete, and I am excited to say the least.  A far cry from being in the first row with so much to look forward to.  I confess, I believed wholeheartedly that the process would go faster - especially after the first few squares, but adding material (colors) to the palette seems to have made it more difficult and time consuming.

Dropped online a couple of days ago to log the computer off for the evening, and saw that my lovely friend Maria was online, and in her google account.  By the time my home internet connection allowed the correspondence box to open up....she had signed out.  I was disappointed to have missed the chance to face-to-face with her. [sigh]  I hope she is doing well, and that her summer classes have brought her closer to reaching her immediate goals.  Miss you, Maria!

OK, time to stop burning daylight.  Enjoy your days and be well, everyone.

Did you do it?

Have you done it, yet? Have you moved all your clocks back one hour?

If you haven't, it's no big deal - just leave 'em be. In another six months or so it'll be the correct time again and all will be right in your world. I say show up everywhere an hour early and impress people!

;v)

End of the month

I suppose, since we've come to the end of another month, it would be appropriate to mark its demise with a word or two (or two-hundred).

Last evening, the boys and I went to a DSO concert to hear the premiere of a new work by Danny Elfman. Well, it isn't really "new work" so much as a compilation of music from films he's scored for Tim Burton movies. Elfman and Burton put together a snapshot of images and film to go with the musical scores from fourteen Burton movies - and it was wonderful! There was even an 11-year-old male soloist and the Wayne State Choir to back the orchestra, which just added SO much to the program.

As I said, it premiered in Detroit last night, accompanied by people dressed as their favorite Tim Burton character. I would strongly suggest catching this program if it comes to an orchestra hall in your town. You won't be sorry you did.

Last night's dinner brought to us by Yumm and E !

In a pinch I turned to ye olde pantry and dinner turned out fabulously well - and with a minimum of work.

I began with one large sweet potato, peeled, diced, and set to boil. While the spud was cooking, I measured off three healthy servings (and by "healthy", I mean overfull portions) of frozen broccoli and added about one cup of chopped spinach. Mind you, I buy a good deal of frozen veggies and use them in everything! We buy fresh, too, but frozen produce is a boon for cooking meals.

Once the brocco/spinach combo was steaming in the skillet, I added a spoonful or two of the sweet tater water to keep the green bits from scorching onto the pan. I cut one medium-size onion into a small rough chop, tossing it with a little butter into the same pan with the greens. When the onion began to look translucent I combined the entire lot and added a tad more water from the tuber 'bath'.

Tater cooked through? Yup, and so I removed it from the heat; drained off the water (pouring a little more into the veggie mix); placed the cooked chunks - and about 1/2 cup of remaining liquid - into a bowl and placed that in microwave to keep warm.

Washed pan and began saffron rice.

Added one jar of Trader Joe's Masala Simmering Sauce, and about 6 oz of water (with which I rinsed the jar) - of course - that all went into the vegetable mix and NOT the rice. Once this began to bubble, I turned the heat way down and added one can of chicken - YES! I said "can" (remember, I'm working out of my pantry). Chopped the chunks into smallish pieces and distributed it throughout the veggie mix. From there I added only a pinch or two of salt and a good grinding of black pepper.

With the rice still simmering, I finished prepping the yam by adding a pat of butter, about 2 tablespoons of brown sugar, a sprinkle of cinnamon, less than a sprinkle of clove, and a smidgen of nutmeg. One tiny pinch of sea salt and a grinding of fresh black pepper finished the seasonings, then I mashed the cubes by hand.

Voila! Dinner in two pans and almost no chopping, and it was GOOOOOOOOOD!!

You may now drool ~

Aaahhhhhhhh

I still need to get to the grocery store - since we have 'snain' on the way later this evening - but I did manage to COMPLETE ESSAY #2 and the additional two writing projects assigned this week! Done!

I'm DONE! OK, well, I'm done until new stuff is assigned, but it feels good to be finished for the week and able to sit and sew without feeling guilt (for anything more than avoiding housework). BIG ;v)

[happy sigh]

What a nice break from the routine

Yesterday was about as glorious a day as could have been - and is the reason I love fall in Michigan. The weather in Michigan is about as perfect as could be asked for; and the colors slowly turning on the trees (and other deciduous plants) casts such a lovely painterly effect across everything, how could anyone not revel in the fall season?!?!?

After teaching a class Friday evening, I hot-footed it up to Jean's for an overnight girl-gab-and-sewing-session, which became a jaunt to East Lansing on Saturday for sushi with the adorable, wish-we-had-one-like-him boyfriend of one of her daughters. Jean began the day by making us berry smoothies at breakfast :) then her sister, Anne, drove down from Traverse City to join us Saturday, and brought lunch with her - and it was delicious! Freshly homemade pita bread with homemade chicken salad (including spinach and homegrown basil), AND homegrown tomatoes to top it off! Soooo tasty! Thank you, Anne!

We ended the day with sushi for dinner and voila! "Perfect" doesn't really even come close to describing the whole thing. [contented sigh]

I drove home after that to work with Karl on his essay. He needs a lot of pushing and pulling and cajoling, and I hate feeling as though I abandon him (even though I know he needs to be more independent overall). When it comes to sinking or swimming, even though I know I give it my all, I still feel somehow that I push Karl under with a stick if I don't help lead him to shore (with regards to homework).

Anyway, we made a little progress before turning in last night, but now I feel like I could have stayed and played one more night with the girls and gotten Karl to about the same place today if I'd come home after breakfast instead of last evening. Ah well. If nothing else, at least I got the cat box cleaned out (and the puddle off the floor). That was necessary, too.