Apples don't fall far

One Bad-Ass (you had to know I would find the baseball tie) "Ya Gotta Believe"



and his son... also a Bad-Ass -- apparently this male fan was assaulting a female in the audience in some way and Tim thought it should be stopped... be sure to note when the guy gets in Tim's face toward the end of the confrontation, B-A Tim is ready to take care of that too! (I do like me some nice strong arms!)

8 track tapes, gas station pizza and butterflies

I know – I promised to post more frequently – and I really am thinking of posts, so that’s a start! Several swimming around in my muddled menopausal brain at the moment include, gas station pizza, chaperoning ten year-olds, music that I clean house to (thanks to this post by a HS friend), and my most recent music purchase (because of Mike’s post, but also because it is very ironic and hilarious inside my brain), also—went to one of those free summer concerts in the park last night, not because it was free, not because it was in the park, and not because we were free and could, but because it was the FACE vocal band.

So… I can’t decide whether to go backwards, forwards, or randomly through the list, hmmmm

FACE – wow, always a great show, always amazing me at the clean harmonies, great GREAT arrangements, and of course the beat boxer (he prefers vocal percussionist). Free in the park in the neighboring city of Westminster, very nice park to have a free concert in, and I get the whole it’s free, it’s in the park, it’s NOT theatre etiquette – but, dude, take your crying kid away from the people who are trying to hear the music… he is off key and quite frankly, that’s not even a real cry, he’s just making noise cuz he can – UGH. My kids loved it, and we took little plastic bottles of wine into the park (hey, it’s not some sort of spectacular fermented grape experience, screw top and plastic single servings, but still wine in the park was nice on some level), we were going to take fried chicken and fruit, but the chicken had gone bad (in three days – it was vacuum packed, so I thought it would keep three days in the fridge, my bad) so we ate burritos at home and took the fruit and fermented fruit and set up our ballgame chairs and the kids played tag like little kids and spit sunflower seeds and grapes at each other. Husband and I held hands and smiled at our childish teens and kissed in the rain.

Gas Station Pizza – so we had this finance committee meeting here at the office a couple weeks ago, and because I am the finance person for the foundation, it was MY meeting (well as much as any meeting can be mine, I do have an Executive Director that always says these are not her meetings and then takes them over to some extent, and the Treasurer of course. So, I had to provide lunch, well my boss walks in my office at oh about 15 minutes before the meeting and says “did you order some pizza”… and I “oh crap, I forgot”… so I jump up and look on the bulletin board for the well known national pizza chains phone number, without luck, who knows who took it to their office and didn’t return it, but here’s a coupon from a nearby pizza place, right up the street, and maybe it’s an awesome mom & pop pizza place (you old GM people, I was hoping for Pizza Cassa) – so I call them up, order some pizza and start to prepare a check for them, the woman calls back and says, please don’t make the check payable to Pizza Place, the name on the flyer, but to Amoco instead. Yeah the gas station… suddenly flooding to mind was the day I stopped there for gas and saw the sign, we now have pizza. So I didn’t say a word to anyone, and the pizza arrived, it was alright, not bad, not good, just pizza. Everyone left, and my co-worker says to me (cuz the boxes were all about patriotism and freedom and nothing about the name of the pizzeria) “where did you get this pizza”… and I said “from the gas station” – she about died. I have not heard the end of ordering Gas Station Pizza for the meeting.

Chaperoning Ten-Year Olds… as many of you know, my girls are Job’s Daughters – an organization for 10-20 year old girls with a relationship to a Master Mason. They recently dropped the minimum age from 11 years old to ten years old. I joined (1977) shortly after they changed the minimum age from 12 years old to 11 years old, and I acknowledge that all that I am about to say about 10 year olds could have probably applied to me at 11 years old. My girls are 15 and 17 – I am accustomed to having lots of kids around – but they are generally in this age range. I also chaperone the Job’s Daughters quite a bit, and always thought that all the griping about the ten year olds was unwarranted. Well… this year things changed. I do not want to be misunderstood – the girls I was chaperoning are exceptional, they are smart, funny, respectful, well behaved, wonderful girls. They did NOTHING wrong, they were just simply way more busy than older girls. I felt like I needed a butterfly net to try to keep them corralled. It was like herding ants, as soon as your attention was turned to this small group and you thought you had it all under control the other group would disappear, and you would find them over making friends with the girls from Greeley or Cortez – like I said nothing wrong, actually it was right, they should make friends with girls from around the state – but I could never keep track of all of them. I felt like I was teaching Kindergarten – counting girls all the time. And of course there were those times when I didn’t count someone cuz I thought they were an adult (ya know 19 and 20 years old, does seem like an adult) or I forgot what number I was hoping to come up with. Also, ten-year olds seem to have bladders that shrink in size relative to the boredom being wrought by long dry meetings full of too many speeches and too few moments of movement and entertainment. One meeting when I was on the floor (meaning as an adult I had to participate, not sit on the sidelines (audience)), I heard from the older girls that they counted and the young ones went to the bathroom 8 times -the meeting was two hours long, so they basically went every 15 minutes… giggle.

My recent CD purchase – This could well replace, at least temporarily my play list “house cleaning” – my daughter and I were shopping at Costco the other day, and for whatever reason I had the impulse to stop at that little “kiosk” where you can push the button to hear a little snippet of the songs available on one of the 18 CD’s they are selling there. They are generally “spa music”, “big band classics”, “music for a rainy afternoon” – you know the ones I am talking about. Well this particular one actually had among the Ronco style mix CD sets, some that were specific artists “Sinatra”, and also some more upbeat stuff “Latin Rythms”, as well as stuff that would only interest music weirdos “Opera through the Ages” – I checked, no Mario Lanza, or I would have purchased it probably. Also, the one button I was NOT interested in pushing (beside the spa one, ugh spa music, I mean I’m glad they play it when I’m getting a massage, but I would NEVER want it in my home) was “Cardio Blast” – which looked like a 3 CD set soundtrack for a Denise Austin workout which evoked shudders and pain. My daughter pushed the button, out belted Madonna – then she picked up the box, it is AWESOME… We are Family, I Will Survive, You Should Be Dancing, Best of My Love, Bad Girls, Car Wash, Flashdance… What a Feeling, Holiday, MMM Bop, Lady Marmalade, Express Yourself, Love Shack, Bette Davis Eyes, Take My Breath Away, We Belong, Freeway of Love, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, Signed Sealed Delivered, Upside-Down, Loco-Motion, Hot Stuff, I’m Every Woman – yeah I know, a little disco, and way pop, not fabulous music, but disco is so much better now than it was in the 70’s and I can clean house like crazy to something like Freeway of Love or Loco-Motion. Not so sure about Take My Breath Away – may skip that one a lot, after all it evokes memories of that assbag who broke up with me ON VALENTINE’S DAY.

Coming Soon (when I am near my iTunes) my housecleaning playlist – or highlights at least.

Big Things Poppin'

So… I got this nasty gastro crud that’s been making the rounds. My friend who transcribes medical charts for a hospital says that she’s seen a lot of it coming through the ER charts. I’ve known half a dozen people who have had it. It really knocks you off your feet… I don’t want to be too graphic (not much embarrasses me, but body functions are just gross), lets just say I needed two receptacles for the stuff my body was purging for several hours. Of course it hit hours before my daughters graduation party, about 6pm the night before the party to be exact. Thank heavens, we were mostly done making preparations (which NEVER happens at our house), and my husband and kids were able to put the final touches on things. Of course I was up all night and completely exhausted, not to mention still quite a bit weak stomached for the event the next morning. Mother Nature in her wisdom, saw fit to give us the coldest day of the spring for our outdoor party as well! (maybe she was keeping folks away so they wouldn’t get the crud???)

Anyhow, probably because I pushed myself at that party… my crud sort of lingered, I wasn’t really sick, but I wasn’t really well for most of last week. My son, being the chip off the old block that he is (you can guess which block)… began playing music every time I would head into the bathroom. Sort of my own little soundtrack – he included songs like:

• Big Things Poppin’
• I like to Move It, Move It
• Sail Away
• Wipe Out
• Thick as a Brick
• This Could be the Last Time

I really can’t remember the others, but I have to tell you, there is nothing quite like being on the toilet in complete hysterics to make you feel much better about your plight!

Real Mom Award

Here... http://moosema.blogspot.com/2008/05/overheard-at-moose-house.html

For those that don't read this blog -- the mooseling is a male child!

I am so doing this!

I just read this post and I am in love with this idea -- only in my own twisted way!!!

I want a business card with a frazzled ass pic of me -- you know the early Christmas Morning oh crap breakfast is burning and we forgot the batteries for the gifts from Santa and I only got 1.5 hrs of sleep and I'm hungover from the eggnog last night -- that way when I hand out the cards, it won't matter how bad I look, it will be better than the card! I also want some smart ass content... rather than "LISA D---, Noah, Violet, Ruby, and Henry's Mom, with a picture of each of her kids in the corners, a fancy border, and her phone number and email address" -- I want MOMUMO, still yelling at S, D, & K about the same stuff in their teens that I was yelling about when they were 8 -- and then instead of pics of them, I think maybe pictures of their rooms. I also (as you will see if you read my comment to Baseballmom) want to put bullets on the back...

*"mother of a college student that still eats with her mouth open"
*"mother of the class smartass"
*"I do have two other children, that's why you don't always see me at dance/baseball/swimming/dr's appts"
*"no, I haven't seen that important memo, I'm sure it's in one of the backpacks and I will try to remember to ask tonight"
*"No I didn't get your telephone message, do you have my cell phone number?"

Please feel free to make other suggestions you think would be both amusing and accurate... I am so in love with this idea I can barely contain myself to get back to my "day job"!

Well I've been tagged...

Which does make for a built in entry -- at least in this case.

Here are the rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people and post a comment to the person who tagged you once you’ve posted your three sentences.

My issue is that technically the nearest books are all reference materials, dictionary, french-english dictionary, thesaurus, MLA, Secretary's Handbook (never been a secretary, but this little gem is a rock ass reference when you need it!); and the user guide to a cell phone I don't even use anymore... there are however 4 other books on top of the hutch to my desk -- none of which I have actually read -- one I have attempted, but not finished, so I will choose it.

I hit a bookstore many years ago (I remember I still had multiple children in strollers!) that was going out of business -- and they were selling hardcover books of all sorts for like 50 cents!!! -- I bought boxes and boxes of books - brand new hardcover books, I bought childrens books, multiples of ones that would make great gifts -- I bought favorite authors, though to be fair, by the time I discovered this gem of a book sale, most of the modern fiction had been thoroughly picked through, and I bought interesting sounding books by authors I had never ever heard of... I also bought oodles of hardbound classics, some I had read many times, others that I had never read... and the last of the oddities that I bought were composer biographies -- which I donated, along with many other books, to the kid's school library. There are about 100 books in that library donated by me, is that not cool!... okay so here for your reading pleasure... Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy

Boldwood had drawn up on her left, within the room. Her singing was soft and rather tremulous at first, but it soon swelled to a steady clearness. Subsequent events caused one of the verses to be remembered for many months, and even years, by more than one of those who were gathered there:

'For his bride a soldier sought her,
And as winning tongue had he:
On the banks of Allan Water
None was gay as she!'

My children are required to read this book in High School, well I should say it WAS on the reading list at their school... I believe 9th grade(?) and my daughter had to read it, then someone wisely chose to replace it with something that is actually readable and my other two will never know the suffering they escaped. I must say, I did offer my daughter spark notes, as I just reminded myself (by blowing off an inch of dust and opening the tome), I have actually filled the inside of the book cover with small stickies covered with vocabulary notes because this book is so freaking difficult to muddle through -- Thank you Thomas Hardy for being considered fabulous only because no one can actually read your books peacefully... I do like Tess of the D'Urbervilles, and silly me, assumed I would enjoy anything by an author that could so deeply move me - argh!

For those who can't stand it... the other three books (and really they are up there purely for their nice looking covers this is not a good place for books) -- please let me know if you have read them, or the authors, as I would be curious to know if I should get excited about cracking them open soon...

Pretty Boy Floyd by Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana
The Kindness of Women by J.G. Ballard
Herbs and Apples by Helen Hooven Santmyer

(actually The Kindness of Women has always seemed like a title I should recognize and know, but I don't)

Okay so I must tag FIVE people -- (I don't actually think I have 5 readers anymore, because I took such a long break, but...) Baseballmom, Never a Dull Moment, Jenny HaHa, Doncast (because I'm sure whatever he has near his computer is bound to be unique and fascinating), and Tales from My Tiny Kingdom... y'all have been tagged!

Off to thank Moosema for tagging me!

I always hated stumbling over blocks in the dark!

I had said I would write (emphasis on actually writing) more blogs. As soon as that happened, material didn’t actually fail to materialize, but my ability to recognize it as material seemed to fail me. I am often appreciated because my blog is “funny” – so of course with the pressure on to produce funny and the blinders on keeping me from seeing what is actually funny in my world right now I feel “blocked” – isn’t that awful! I’ve been sitting here off an on all morning fantasizing about suddenly remembering whatever it is that has happened this week that had me in stitches – I know I’ve been there, my kids are hilarious, my husband is very clever and witty – and frankly, I can pop off a few funnies myself… so what the hell, did we have grumpy week at our house or what? We have a new kitten; we certainly laugh at him a lot. We frequently say “oh that could win on America’s Funniest Home Videos”. I think we all have school is almost out burnout… Do people like Erma Bombeck and Theresa Bloomingdale just run to their computer in the middle of funny moments… okay well typewriter considering they both wrote actual books about being funny long before pc’s were commonplace. My older two kids have taken three AP tests between them in the last week, all three have had term papers and major English assignments due, the French teacher continues to drive us all batty with her racist remarks, her inappropriate sense of humor and her unusual idea of what represents helpful class work, I’ve had a bitch of an upper respiratory thing, hoarse voice, sore throat, silly ass cough that mostly manages to irritate my throat and make me occasionally pee myself – I’ve been delighted to go through 3 or 4 pairs of underwear per day – speaking of all that dirty laundry – the boy put a plastic tablecloth in the NEW (fancy schmancy wow I feel so spoiled) dryer and melted it all over the back of the dryer where it gets, ya know, HOT… so he’s been busy each day running an empty dryer (hey we are being green in other ways) and trying to peel off all the ooey plastic so that we can get back to drying clothes in there… I’m about to hang a load of panties on the clothesline where the entire neighborhood can see clear evidence of how enormous my ass has become since I quit smoking and working downtown where I at least walked a few blocks every day. The main problem with hanging a load of wash (aside from the whole neighbors thinking my panties are tents… is that the back yard hasn’t been “spring cleaned” yet and the lines are dirty, the path to the clothes line is overgrown with new spring stuff and littered under that (where you surely can’t see it) with the crap that blew in, fell off the trees, got dragged around by the dogs, etc. over the winter – and you know I will step on that crap barefooted if I venture out to the clothes line. There is also the issue of my son using the clothesline to attach his pitching target and that damn thing is taking up one whole line and has been out there all winter getting dusty and nasty – I certainly don’t want my frillies blowing anywhere near that! Oh yeah and the tablecloth – one of my favorite cheery spring ones that makes the kitchen look all pleasant and happy and keeps my kitchen table from being abused by those same children that can’t seem to (in high school, um yeah he’s the one that took the AP Chemistry test???) realize that plastic will melt in an appliance that heats up… I’m really starting to doubt how well he did on that test that I paid 80 bucks for him to take. The youngest is still on that moving like a little old lady pace for everything… this morning she wrote a lunch check for herself – it really took like 5 minutes – to write a $15 check, she didn’t even have to sign it… I was expecting fabulous calligraphy when she brought it to me for signature… nope just regular handwriting, very legible, but none the less, not really special. The oldest is more snuggly than usual, but also feels that I’m not taking enough interest in her life… what the hell, how does she get that, I talk to people every day about how freaked out I am to have a kid graduating from High School, I tell her that we can’t go get a graduation dress that particular day, and I address two or three more announcements that we hadn’t yet sent… I really haven’t been that interested in her school day or her work stuff. The work stuff just seems extraneous with all this other going on right now, and every time I ask her about school she reminds me that she only has 6 days left (or some smaller awful number) and that’s about all she has to say. Maybe I should make a giant sign that has the days on it for her this afternoon. She can peel them off each morning just to make me all teary-eyed and melancholy. Well now my boss has just called and reminded me of a deadline (today) that she gave me yesterday that I totally spaced when I got here this morning… this means my lunchtime blogging is done for today… maybe I will be inspired later by some amazing moment!

copycatting moosema's list

1. I like chocolate chip cookie dough better than the actual cookie.
2. It freaks most of my friends out to find out I am a Republican
3. I remember when Bob Barker had black hair.
4. I have had nearly every pet imaginable, I am a dog person
5. Our house does not have air conditioning.
6. I prefer Coors Original to all other beer – I do not typically like beer snob beer
7. I am a 6th generation native
8. I have 6 brothers and 2 sisters
9. I consider myself a very spiritual person, but not a religious one.
10. I have a very hard time making small talk.
11. I let my children watch movies that others would consider inappropriate.
12. I have the straightest freakin hair on the planet, I can’t keep it curly longer than about ten minutes (this includes with a perm!)
13. I look great in hats
14. I had a job one summer test-driving cars!
15. I got my braces off the day before my Senior Prom
16. I take the hottest showers imaginable
17. My favorite shampoo is baby shampoo
18. I don't like wearing sunscreen.
19. I know all the words to "American Pie"
20. I refuse to shop at Walmart.
21. I love asparagus.
22. I think Mel Gibson is gay and in denial.
23. I had four bridesmaids in my wedding, with 4 groomsmen, 2 candlelighters, 2 flower girls, 2 ring bearers, and 4 ushers
24. My grandmother taught me things about sex and life that most people never get to learn!
25. I almost never use the mouse – I am a keystroke person (I could never be happy on a Mac for this reason)
26. I hate my new cellphone and will probably stick my simcard back in the old one as soon as I find it
27. My mothers photo developer told her to never allow me to touch a camera again
28. I miss Wild Wild West with Robert Conrad in those fabulously sexy blue pants
29. I drink a lot of coffee.
30. I've never used a vibrator.
31. I prefer RC
32. I had a minivan
33. – I pretended it was a “magic bus” and refused to admit that I drove a minivan
34. I detest the font "Times New Roman"
35. And "Courier"
36. I believe in ghosts.
37. I sometimes wear men’s underwear
38. I frequently let the F-bomb fly in front of my children (and my parents)
39. I would consider becoming a lesbian if Halle Berry asked me to.
40. I was in music in high school.
41. I play the flute and piccolo well, I have also played the oboe and drums (not well)
42. I don’t downhill ski – I do cross country ski
43. I collect old fashioned glass juicers and dictionaries
44. I left my Christmas Tree up until March this year
45. My husband has excused himself after I belch since we were dating!
46. I adore Maker’s Mark Bourbon
47. I broke my back when I was 17
48. Sometimes I prefer cheap wine (particularly chianti)
49. Two of my brothers have had children with the same woman
50. I get an almost uncontrollable urge to spend money when I am deadass broke
51. I'm not a picky eater.
52. My oldest daughter is going to be a freshman at the Univ. of Wyoming next year.
53. My son can do complicated math in his head but cannot figure out simple directions like “bring me that pink piece of paper on the desk”
54. I almost bit my husband during childbirth
55. I cried when my youngest daughter weaned herself
56. I miscarried the day after my husband’s vasectomy
57. I sell fruit all summer
58. Baby, I've got back! In other words, I have a big butt and I cannot lie.
59. My brother wants “Locomotive Breath” played at his funeral
60. I cried when Pope John Paul II died – even though I am not Catholic
61. I love Rocky Mountain Oysters
62. I've been to the real South Park
63. I've been to Disneyland but I don’t remember it
64. I’m not a big chocolate person
65. I have a lot of strange superstitions
66. I can scan through the radio and sing all or most of the lyrics to whatever song it lands on – regardless of genre
67. I used to use Big Chief tablets for my journals until they stopped making them
68. I can sing La Marseillaise (French National Anthem)
69. I have a Vose & Sons upright piano that was built in ???
70. My children are 15 months apart
71. I've read all seven Harry Potter books
72. I saw Pavarotti in concert, it was disappointing
73. My first concert was Barry Manilow – who I didn’t like until after I saw him live – the concert was awesome
74. I have such bad motion sickness that I can't even swing without having to take a dramamine.
75. I can’t sit still long enough for most of the podcasts that I have tried
76. I have watched Days of Our Lives since approximately 1977
77. I make such good meatloaf that I actually make it for special meals
78. I can’t cut straight with scissors
79. I record Jeopardy every day so that I can watch back to back episodes and compete against my family
80. I talk in my sleep – A LOT
81. I can’t actually communicate in Spanish anymore as I never use it, but I still occasionally dream in Spanish and when I wake up I can watch Spanish television and pick up almost all of it
82. I had dreams about Mike Meyers (Wayne’s World) while I was pregnant with my oldest daughter
83. I can perform lots of car repairs (on older models w/o all the electrical blah blah)
84. I gut fish with scissors
85. I own a rifle
86. I won riflery competitions when I was younger
87. I would never hunt, I just like shooting at targets
88. I wore cowboy boots with my wedding dress (but only during the reception)
89. I love steak but won’t order it at restaurants, and I hate most steakhouses
90. I own more books than I have room to put on shelves, I have at least one hundred books in boxes in the basement
91. I have crocus planted in my lawn – I get very excited when they are the first thing blooming in my yard
92. I prefer line-dried laundry
93. I used cloth diapers with all three kids, the entire time (except for overnight with the boy – he apparently could pee 14 gallons at night)
94. My husband washed and folded every diaper for all those years
95. My parents have both raced cars
96. I survived an Atlantic Ocean Storm with 12-15 foot swells in a 8’ open hull fishing boat
97. I didn’t realize how dangerous it was and actually thought it was sort of fun
98. I once went camping with no shoes
99. My first flute was stolen in Spain, I cried for days and days
100. The sun setting over the Rockies is my favorite moment/sight in all the world

Lots of Ideas for Posts…

Trouble making time! My friend Moosema has a great post about 100 random things about her – she and I have more in common than I would have thought—or maybe I should say that some of the things we have in common surprised me. Never a Dull Moment has a post about 5 silly things to do to waste time (or something like that) – they are all those funky fun quizzes that all the kids are putting on their myspace / facebook sites – I didn’t post it here but apparently (no shock to the people who know IRL), I’m a potty mouth. The average blog is something like 9% profane and I’m like 47% or some huge ass number. Then this morning on my way into work – I saw the funniest thing, well funny to me – but couldn’t exactly stop in the rain on the highway with kitten in lap to take a picture for ya’ll – so I will try to paint it with words. I’m driving down the highway, which because I live so close to my office, I am only on for a matter of a few miles – usually less than two minutes? Anyhow, it’s raining this morning, not all that common in Denver actually – we are a high desert, but rain is not so uncommon that we are all thrown into a tither and can’t drive. And it’s not like it was raining super hard, I had my wipers on the low speed. But with the rain, that means the dogs didn’t really want to hang outside all day, and my poor old dog that just won’t gain weight regardless of what fattening ridiculous food we give him doesn’t seem to even have the ability to stay warm (he probably does, but you know how we people are, we can’t imagine that they aren’t soft fluffy comfy all the time). So I agreed to take the new kitten to work with me so the husband could have the dogs in the house with him. Kitten is still new and the dogs and the kitten aren’t quite ready to have unlimited, unsupervised access to each other. Kitten is pretty good in car, but only if I’m holding him on my lap (yes I always bitch when I see someone driving down the road with their little lap dog in their lap and I think ‘oh yeah that’s safe’). Anyhow, its raining, kitten is in my lap, but requires my hand holding him there to restrain him there – So I’m driving down the highway, kitten in lap, and some jackass is going really slowly in a big truck in front of me, but the left lane is moving really fast and I don’t have much time to pass so I just wandered down the highway behind the jackass – and as I’m driving along I notice a bunch of debris on the shoulder. As I look closely it’s pieces of broom – or maybe even several brooms – pieces of the broom bristles and pieces of broomstick all over the shoulder… small pieces, but large enough to identify – and a hat. That’s it just pieces of broom and a hat. Well I giggled my butt off cuz I imagined this witch flying along in the early morning fog/rain and having some hideous accident that caused her broom to explode and she disintegrated in the wetness (you know, think back to the Wizard of Oz – “who’d have thought a little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness” – I really love that line) leaving behind only her hat and pieces of her broom. I just had a long telephone conversation with my dad – very weird that. I get along great with my dad, but he just doesn’t strike me as a telephone person. Let alone that I found out he was driving out to Henderson – which means I-76 and Highway 85, both lousy traffic in best weather – so we had this long cell phone conversation – it was nice. I had some other stuff, but I feel like I had better get at my work now.

I HAVE GOT TO GET ME SOME OF THOSE SHOES -- WHEN I WAS LOOKING FOR MELTED WITCH IMAGES I RAN ACROSS THOSE AND I LOVE THEM

my baby is becoming an adult :(

This graduating Senior stuff is SO hard. I truly am happy that she made it, that she got into the school that she wanted, that she's doing so great and loving her new place in the world... but I really hate it too. I just want to scoop her up on my lap and read her a book and have her drink "aboo" out of her sippy cup. I want to watch her funny little waddle as she jumps down and totters over to the books and chooses a new one. I want to put her hair up in pigtails (while she screams and battles me) and put her little socks and shoes on for her. I DO NOT want to buy her any more stuff for her dorm, I do not want to have any more talks about sex and drugs and alcohol and stupid freshman decisions, I do not want to talk about $$ anymore either -- the school she chose is actually pretty affordable comparitively, but still... this whole college $$ thing, UGH! She wants a new bikini for her graduation party (we are having it at a beach... at a lake, we aren't having a destination graduation party, lol)... and I want it to be like those silly little ones that you buy them when they are still all baby fatty and the "bra" part is a silly little strip of bright green with pink flowers and you can actually tell what the fabric is because it's way bigger than the bikinis that are worn after the boobs arrive. Oh oh and the ruffles on the butt, yeah I want it to have ruffles on the butt!!! I have to take her dress to the cleaners today for prom, I don't want her to go to prom, I want her to go to a disney movie with me. I'm faking it well, being very happy for all these milestones and happy days... I'm going to make her "montage" (it's a collage-you know on poster-board, I don't know why the parent coordinators keep calling it a montage... I think a vocabulary lesson is in order) tonight, because it has to be turned in tomorrow... I'm sure that will put me in a very blue mood. She's working though, so I should be able to disguise it. I'm putting in lots of baby fat pictures with modest baby clothes and cute shoes that I had control over choosing!!! And her blonde hair and blue eyes, she had the biggest blue eyes... now her hair is brown and her eyes are hazel.

holy crap... i still remember my password!

Well... I see that it's been ridiculously long since I have posted. To any of you who actually still have me on your RSS or some such thing, I am still alive, but I don't promise a great post here... I didn't come in with anything in mind to post, and I only have a short time here. I am bar-b-cueing chicken, well turning the chicken for the husband while he runs to pick up the daughter at girl scouts... and it's not working out all that well, I went out and turned it -- he mentioned that he wanted it to cook slowly, and it was... then I went back to turn it, and well not much change... oh joy, the burners were off, we were gassing our chicken -- I sure hope it's okay to eat after it actually cooks now that I re-lit the damn grill. Also making potatoes au gratin, so I'm being all domestic, which btw, hasn't been happening all that much around here lately... more of that later. I promise to all 2 of my faithful readers... I will post more regularly, it is sort of a "spring cleaning" oath for me. oh crap, chicken timer again... I'll be back soon!

just babbling

well I guess I should just babble a bit since it's been OVER A MONTH since my last post. This having a senior in High School thing is quite demanding - even if she does the bulk of the driving -- work has been pretty demanding, well demanding is a bit strong, but busy, definitely busy - we just hop from event to event without much break in between to recover from the last. My office is a complete explosion - today is clean the office day and tie up lots of loose ends. Trying to some degree to get ready for the holiday - not really in the spirit (I never am till the last minute though). I have had the Cold from hell for TWO freakin weeks -- I never get this sick, or stay this sick, or even for that matter stay sick this long -- and every day it's a different aspect that is center stage, stayed up coughing in the middle of the night, so today is the sore throat (scratchy from coughing, not swollen glands, though that was the first day or two). Football season turned out wonderfully - they went to the playoffs, we had a road trip over to the other side of the continental divide for playoff football, that was fun! Got to know some of the football parents in a new way, travelling together always reveals some things you didn't know before (like which mom's have been sneaking booze into the games - hey I'm not one of them, and which mom's are flirts, and which dad's are p.w., and which parents baby their boys, etc.) -- my dancer hasn't danced in weeks, poor thing has a stress fracture - she can swim though. Both daughters are swimming, have had two meets, it's been pretty good - though oldest daughter lost her class ring at the meet this weekend. The boy isn't pitching, he has the equivalent of osgood schlatter (sp?) in his elbow, taking off til after the first of the year to rest it. He is working out for baseball on other stuff, and lifting in the weight room. Husband is busy with work, that is a good thing - even though people who don't know what he sells are bitching about any winter weather at all (which we honestly have barely had a taste of). Talked to my "sister" in France -- found out she hurt herself this summer far worse than I thought from her email (her English is not great) -- apparently she fell and hit her head on a rock and was in a coma for a few days -- in the hospital for over a month, then home for over a month, still couldn't do anything for the tremendous dizziness, so she went back to the hospital to have all those little tiny bones inside of her ear "re-built" -- she is finally back to work in November from an accident in July!!! I can't imagine having those little bones "re-built" -- and the thick French accent on "zose tiney leeetle bones" was a bit amusing in it's way also. I'm regretting my big idea of volunteering for a huge thing at school to make up for blowing off and only taking baked goods for a couple of years -- WAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY TOOOOOOOOO MANY POLITICS! These women who had me convinced they were all reasonable logical normal people have slowly shown themselves to be a whole new version of "graham cracker moms". Well that's about all I've got that's light hearted, maybe now that I've got the light hearted stuff out of the way I can post some 'meaty' stuff in the days to come.

The View...

and no, not the silly show with those women who make every effort to be more and more obnoxious than another host each day (ps. I used to really like the show, however... well this is a meme and so that's for another day)

no "the view" from my blogging "window" -- I've been tagged by Jen over at 'Never a Dull Moment' -- to post what is 'outside my blogging window' -- whoever started this meme clearly assumes everyone has a blogging window -- I think this is a broad assumption, though, I've always had a window since I've had this blog - this being Colorado, where we shrivel up and die without sunshine, this isn't that big of a surprise. In fact, windows are a very big deal here -- people who want to appear to be 'green' (a new term, here in Colorado as far back as the 70's (those are my earliest memories) actually referred to it as being a 'tree hugger' - and with some pride even if you were from Denver and drove a huge gas hog of a car all around the city buying gasoline for your hideously inefficient outdoor playtime toys - have always justified all that glass by referring to it as "passive solar" -- which usually means that your house gets cold at night and on cloudy days and you have to heat it with less efficiency - and it gets so freakin hot in the summer that you absolutely must use air conditioning or you will actually bake your pets and your plants.

I used to have a view from the 16th floor of a downtown denver window - it looked out on 17th Street and I could see Long's Peak. From home - where I seldom ever blog, I look out my living room window across the street at my neighbors house - not exactly a spectacular view -- but nothing bad either, just a typical suburban view -- well unless you count when the little brats from the local juvenile delinquency facility (read junior high) are walking down the street smoking, sometimes even pot, and making out with their butts hanging outta their pants and their potty mouths shouting stuff to another kid - ugh! Now of course I have this amazing job working for a non-profit organization that I LOVE, because every day is interesting and everything I do, even the mundane like filing, is helping someone somewhere! -- anyhow, along with less that spectacular pay, comes less than spectacular accomodations -- we pride ourselves that we spend less than 10% of our total budget on administration -- this means that if you give us $100 - $90 goes to patients or research!!! -- and administration includes things like salary (remember the less than spectacular pay), office space (donated), office supplies (often donated), equipment expenses (servicing the copier), telephone, electricity, internet, postage, etc. -- in fact anything that can't be charged to an event or a program. Well the view from our donated office space is so wonderful that there is one office without a window -- and the boss took that office and gave me the window office -- don't be impressed!...

picture coming soon -- having trouble with the cell phone picture thingy, ugh

Yes... that is a dumpster, isn't it great!?! Strangely, I have NEVER seen it being emptied by the trash company, but it does indeed get emptied. And yes, those are weeds -- better yet when it rains/snows, the parking lot doesn't drain, so I get a view of dumpster in standing water -- so nice when you are thinking about west nile virus.

Don't get me wrong, because the benefits of working here far outweigh the view -- and my window has blinds, so generally I just ignore the outside world and work -- I've usually had my back to any windows I've had anyhow, so as long as the sunshine is there, I won't shrivel up and I can enjoy my day in other ways.

Now, if you've been over to Jen's pictures from her Kitchen (of Long's Peak) -- be assured that I can see Long's Peak every day as I leave my house and as I return home -- I live on a hill and I look out over the front range everytime I look west (I just don't blog looking west) -- I can also usually see Mt. Evans, and often Pike's Peak -- and there is nothing that rivals the beauty of the Front Range spread out before you -- I've lived here all my life and it still takes my breath away, probably as frequently as once per week. In fact the very day that Jen took her picture of Long's Peak, the view of it took my breath away, the snow was glowing in the morning sun and the Flat Irons were jutting up in front of it above Boulder and my daughter and I came up over the hill and just gasped at the beauty!

Thursday Thirteen - 7th Dirty Story

7. This feels like the right story at the right time – (remember I said I had 13 of these, well I do, but I only wrote the first 6 and then just named the other seven, so they are being written “real time”.

My darling daughters share a room – it hasn’t always been that way, before they all had big girl and big boy beds (you know we still had cribs and/or toddler beds) – we varied the combinations around. But once the youngest had a “big girl” bed, we figured it was time to think about gender and we put both girls in one room together. Well the bedrooms in our house are not what you would call ‘huge’ in fact they are on the small side (not compared with what we had growing up, but still, small for two beds, two dressers, etc.). So we had these two twin beds in this room and dressers, etc. And it was really just too darn crowded once they began to accumulate stuff of their own. So we determined it was time for bunk beds – and they easily agreed on who should be on top and who on bottom – so this made life easy – but… youngest wanted bottom, but she didn’t like being completely under her sister – it made her feel “claustrophobic”, so we put the beds in an L shape of sorts, because these beds were designed so that you could do that. The top bed went North-South and the bottom bed went East-West. Well this created this wonderful little cubby area that was under older sisters feet, but not really “out in the room” – this was really great for youngest, it was like her very OWN space and she loved it – I seem to remember we had a desk in there, but I don’t know exactly how or what.

Anyhow, everyone is sound asleep, husband and I are going off to bed, and of course he has always been able to fall asleep in about 12 seconds, whereas I lay there a little while and then fall asleep – well… as usual, I was half-asleep and he was snoring (loudly – and no that’s not why I don’t fall asleep – I will write a post someday on my secret hatred for the sleep apnea machine – IT’S TOO QUIET), and I hear this faint little “mommy” – no maybe I didn’t hear anything… wait there it is again, maybe louder – and then… “M.O.M.M.Y.!!!! D.A.D.D.Y.!!!”, very loud, unmistakable – youngest is freaking. We jump out of bed and run in there… and oldest is leaned over her bunk bed wretching, and youngest is sitting up just barely out of the line of fire screaming her head off… older sister didn’t want to puke in her own bed, so she leaned over and puked all over her sister. Well of course I’m thinking about clean-up immediately, and thus far the mess is completely contained on youngest’s comforter – so I begin telling her not to move… I am so mean, here she is trapped under a lake of vomit and I won’t allow her to move, lest she disrupt the nice levees her legs under the covers have created. Husband has gone for a ‘puke bowl’ and youngest is now yelling at her sister “puke in your own bed” – and I’m saying ‘no, no, this one is already dirty’ – but she is a voluminous vomiter and has already gotten to dry heaves, so really it is academic at this point. Now son is awake, standing in doorway laughing at all of us – of course – he isn’t puking, puked on, or about to clean up puke – so it’s all good in his world (he will get his though, oh yes he will get his). Once the bowl was safely under the oldest, I scooped up the comforter, headed for the laundry room and let husband comfort the youngest who was completely traumatized by the whole thing. I still have not lived it down – I frequently get the “but mommy, you have a carpet cleaning machine, you could have just shampooed the carpet and let me out”.

Not an especially dirty story, after all, but timely none the less… my girls still share a room, still have bunk beds (in the usual configuration now – youngest wasn’t about to expose her legs to her sister after that), and actually they still vomit occasionally – however I can tell you now that they don’t wait for mom and dad – the sick one will wake the other and they are remarkably fast at getting to the kitchen for the bowl for the other sister. In fact, they don’t even wake us anymore – youngest was barfing last week, and we only knew because we saw the bowl in her bed – “hey what’s with the barf bowl in your bed” – “oh I threw up last night, my sister cleaned it up for me” – so those of you who think you can’t possibly follow your children around forever cleaning up after them – keep in mind that they do eventually begin to take care of themselves and it is sad and exhilarating all at once.

my weekend

Well this was Harvest Festival weekend - which is sort of a big deal in a "farming" town - not that we are much of a farming town anymore - really more of a suburb of Denver, and most folks in town haven't ever mucked out a stall or chopped wood or gotten up early to feed critters but none the less we hang on to a few of our 'farming' roots - including the harvest festival. Well our Harvest festival is very much about the booths and the food and the carnival - there is also a parade on Saturday morning, and all the girl/boy scouts and marching bands and politicians and 4-H kids and classic car clubs turn out to show their stuff. After the parade there is usually a duck race down the creek (pronounced crik) where gold was first discovered in our town. You buy a duck from the Rotary for $5 (I think you can get 5 for $20?) and the money supports their scholarship fund. After hundreds, I mean hundreds of rubber ducks have been sold they dump them all in the bucket of a bulldozer - for those who know - the bucket on a regular sized bulldozer is darn big, so there are really a lot of ducks, they nearly fill the bucket. They dump the ducks into the creek and we all run down the banks of the creek watching the little ducks go - they get caught up in eddies and branches and behind rocks and they run over each other and around each other and it is so fun to watch them go down the creek - and of course the numbers are on the bottom so you have no idea at all which one is yours. They go down the creek for about 1/2 mile and then the Rotary has this wonderful thing some clever person built that catches ALL (okay one or two slip by, but nearly all) the ducks and it catches the first eight or ten in single file (it's shaped kinda like a Y as wide as the creek and then the leg of the Y holds ducks single file) - and of course that is how the winner is determined. We have never won - we don't care - duck race is absolutely the most fun of the day. So - The oldest had to work - well she was supposed to work at night, but a girl actually asked her to trade shifts for the morning shift which she gladly took (for reasons I will explain later), and the boy had a football game, so he and husband went to football - because I was not about to miss the duck race for a football game my boy was NOT playing in. So youngest and I packed up a cooler with some drinks, grabbed the Jelly, some hats, some cash and took off for the Duck Race. No Freakin Duck Race - I drove around the creek three times looking to see if they moved it up or down stream - no race - I'm so disappointed and well pissed off - I'm going to the next Rotary meeting to raise a stink actually! So then we went "downtown" - you know 3 blocks from the creek - and found a parking space and headed for the "catholic" school gymnasium. Why no one actually calls it by it's name is sort of beyond me, even the good little catholic girls that my daughter played softball with that attend school there don't call it by it's name - anyhow, it's the perfect location based on the rest of the events for them to hold the "food fair". Yes a real true old-fashioned food fair (hence the aforementioned 'jelly'). You can enter Garden vegetables that are abnormally large or weird looking - or on the other side of the gym (small town, small school, small gym, it's not so far to the other side) there is the canned fruit, canned veggies, pickles, salsa, jelly, jam, cake, pie, cookies, yeast bread, quick bread contests. My daughter entered her elderberry jelly. Well actually youngest and I took it in, because oldest was at work - but she had gladly changed shifts because prizes are awarded at 2:30 - and she would get off at 2:30 instead of starting her shift at 2:30 so she could possibly be there in time to get her prize. There were 7 jars of jelly in the jelly category - and she won 3rd place!! Now for anyone who actually knows what elderberries are - you are probably thinking ewwwwwwwww elderberry jelly? For anyone who actually knows what elderberry jelly is, you are probably thinking "holy crap that's way too much work". It is wonderful jelly, really delicious and wonderful. But the nature of elderberries makes it two to three times as much work as other varieties of jelly - for a bunch of crazy reasons. So that she won third place tells me that the judges actually knew that it is a bitch to get it to set and not turn to rubber, it's really really difficult - way more than other jellies. I'm a jam person myself, I have no patience for that dripping bag and that skimming the foam crap - let me cook up a big old pot of fruit and sugar and ladle it into jars any day - much much easier. Well then, after all that - we went on home had some supper - got back together as a family and went back for the carnival (much more fun at night you know) and it's all about being seen and seeing others anyhow. Amazingly - first year in ages - all three of our kids stayed with us. In part because we had the $$ (but they know we would have handed them some and let them run off if they asked), and in part because in spite of inviting lots of friends (most of their friends do NOT live in our town because they don't go to school in our town) none of them had a friend come with them. So, my eldest, she really doesn't like carnivals, and she was missing her boyfriend, and she had worked early so she was tired - she really only went for the funnel cake - and she almost has no friends from our town anymore, and certainly none that would go to the festival - though she isn't - they are all emo/punk and way too cool for something like that. Son has played almost all of his sports in the next town over or for school, so except for one year that he played sports in our town and a few friends left from elementary school (which also isn't in our town, but had a few more kids from our town than the high school) he doesn't have a lot of town friends either. Now youngest, played softball in our town (eldest did too, but quit so long ago it's hard to remember), dances in our town, for some reason has a lot more elementary school friends from our town and actually has some high school friends from our town... so she was sure she would just run into friends -- no go. But the boy ran into about 20 friends - and never once wanted to take off with them - he stayed with us. And he was delightful to his sisters - and they were delightful to him. It was so much fun - none of us rode any rides, but we shot at targets (I did pretty well but didn't win), and the boy and the youngest tried to break beer bottles with baseballs - the boy won that and all the little kids standing around were saying "wow, he should be a pitcher" -- tee hee, he is a pitcher. And then we had our funnel cake, listened to a little of the rock band in the park and went home - it was sort of a quiet night at the fair? Damn that funnel cake was good though!

Sunday is boring so nevermind - this isn't "my weekend" it's my saturday.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

I just sent an email to a teacher without "signing" it -- and in fact... it's more complicated than that. You see my daughter (the senior) specifically requested that we say something "smartassed" in her yearbook - can you believe the little stinker - all the other mommies and daddies are writing things like "You have always been a blessing and seeing the lovely young woman you have become makes us shiver all over with appreciation to the Lord for the blessings he gave us when he brought you into our lives, Praise Jesus for you - you will be the best college student ever because you are amazing and beautiful and and and... " But no, we get a request for "smartassed" - which actually now that I re-read the above example - at least in our family - would clearly qualify as smartassed, but she would also disown us - even though we will be paying for college. So this email was to the yearbook teacher, and it was:

Ms. Yearbook teacher; thank you for your help with this, attached is the picture we discussed of daughter and the sentiment we would like is:

blah blah mushy blah blah reference to favorite hippy song blah blah reference to baby song blah blah

ps. We couldn't decide between a car and a computer for graduation - but then we thought about a vacation... we will call you when we get to Bermuda, please feed the dogs!

now... I'm afraid that Ms. Yearbook teacher (who is foreign by the way, and actually does not have great English) might think the ps. is for her!!! and not include it in the yearbook - and it is actually the specifically requested smartassed part of it - which is of course altogether or more important than the mushy blah blah -- so do I write back - or do I resend the sent message but finish it this time? Adding some paragraph to make clear where the sentiment ends? I'm all a twitter at the possibility that I just fucked up the damn thing and husband and I fought about it for three days - because you see...

He sang to her in-utero (he sang to all the kids in-utero) and so did I. But we sang different songs - now... I know my memory has gone to hell in a handbasket, but... (btw, wouldn't a handbasket just ignite and burn up the minute it reached hell?) I. KNOW. FOR. A. FACT. that he sang "Somewhere Out There" from American Tale to her until she was about 2 years old and requested that he change her song to "Goodnight Sweetheart" - he swears it was never "Somewhere Out There" and always "Goodnight Sweetheart" (maybe I should remind him that he was certain she was a boy til she popped out). And then when she was about 8, she wanted another change, but he wouldn't comply, he told her that "Feelin Groovy" was his song to himself and she couldn't have it. I never changed songs by the way, always "Wouldn't It Be Loverly" - anyhow, the two songs that we referenced are BOTH HIS - and mine just would not fit in - also, we debated and debated as to just how much of "Feelin Groovy" was going to make the cut - because we feel differently about a specific line - he thinks "morning" represents youth, and I think "morning" sounds dumb and should be "moment" and I didn't want to "limit" the sentiment by using "morning". Now I get that "morning" can represent "youth" - but he didn't say that until after we had argued about it for 30 minutes - UGH men! - and then once he said it I was so frustrated that it took a few hours for it to sink in and then I was okay with it.

Anyhow isn't this all so stupid, - but looking at baby pictures of the kids last night to choose the one to go with - OMG we made BEAUTIFUL babies - WOW! and We laughed our asses off at how silly they all were. I found about a bazillion to stick on her "senior collage" - do all schools do all this silly sappy shit or is ours just over the top on this the way it is with other things - we have... senior quote in yearbook (supposed to be selected by senior, but you can tell by reading them that some of the heli-moms are "helping"); sentiment from family with baby picture (or multiple if you want to pay more $$ ($35/each); senior bricks; senior collages; speeches from mom and dad at senior picnic or baccalaureate or something; baccalaureate (which is apparently very religious - as in gentile religious, so I'll be seeing if the ____berg's are going to participate before we make a decision - our senior has already said she has no desire to participate); graduation; and then regularly scheduled senior/parent meetings about "senior issues" - this first one was about college admissions - and that makes sense - and I know that one of them is baccalaureate planning - and I know that some of them are for announcements - which when I was in school was all about the kids and the parents were surprised when they saw what we chose... I'm so confused, lol. When I was in school our senior activities consisted of Keggers (no parents), class picture (aerial on the football field), more keggers (no parents), stop by the table and vote on announcements one day, check the spelling of your name another day, more keggers, ditch day (which included a kegger), graduation rehearsal (again, more beer), and graduation - woohoo the hard stuff, champagne popping out from under gowns and being passed up and down the rows, oh yeah, and more beer, and sometimes parents joined in this beer fun - did I forget any senior activities Moosema? (we were seniors together - but I don't think she drank as much as me, so she might remember something I don't)

flufferwhat?

I was reading a post by Karly over at Wiping up Snot – or maybe it was her guest post – anyhow, she said something about a fluffernutter sandwich – now I have heard this before – but really never knew what it was – so I confessed my ignorance to her and she wrote me back – actually making a derogatory comment about one of my favorite sandwiches – I think she said she thought she might hurl – I like Peanut Butter and Mayo (with lettuce when available). Apparently, for anyone else as ignorant as me (I think it might be geographic, but that is still somewhat unclear) – fluffernutter is peanut butter and marshmallow “fluff”. And in New England there is a brand of fluff called “fluff” that is the very best – if fluff is the same as the Kraft Marshmallow Cream that we use here for fudge – and by “we”, I mean those of us who refuse to stand over a pot of boiling sugar and butter with a thermometer rising up to the atmosphere of Hell and instead of timing the nasty goo religiously with a clock with a second hand – btw… I find it ironic that nearly everything that is a “holiday treat” requires you actually have a clock with a second hand – my children cannot read clocks with hands (well not easily or well) but they can time the hell outta pizzelles or fudge with the second hand, lol. I know that ‘candy’ making fudge people look down their noses at us marshmallow cream fudgers – but, my fudge is always the first one gone on a buffet so pfffffft!

Okay well anyhow, if “fluff” is the same as that nasty crap that I put in the fudge, I could just hurl – so I guess Karly and I are even in that regard. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to combine the joys of fresh bread and peanut butter with nasty nuclear waste sugar – and I suspect she thinks of mayo as greasy nastiness or something equally as unappetizing.

But this brings me to another thought – and then I signed into my blog and remembered that I wrote about puke yesterday – so this is like a segue between puke and um… puke.

I love to tell stories on my children, and occasionally strangers – geez I wish I had voice recognition typing in my car – I wrote the best post last week in the car about inconsiderate bitches and bastards that leave shopping carts all about the parking lot among other transgressions – of course I was driving so I was just “writing” out loud to myself, and it will never come out the same on “paper” as that original artwork! Anyhow, time for a story on me – I suppose it would work as a ‘dirtiest’ story – but what the hell, we’ll just stick it in as a Friday – don’t celebrate the weekend this way!

We were at the lodge – the one mentioned previously in fish gut stew post and again after that in the “I splashed the sheriff but I didn’t get the deputy” post. The kids were very small, in fact, even in my slightly drunken stupor – I remember being concerned about their safety while roasting marshmallows – and asked my much more sober husband to keep a very close eye on them – and to definitely not let them fling the flaming balls of sugary goo into the faces of all the drunks sitting around “supervising”. The other questionable decision I made was to actually consume the beautiful wonderful snacks that my darling babies had made “just for me” even though they contained one of the most hideous “food” products hidden away in the pantries of most Americans (I doubt that people in any other part of the world would even consider putting that crap in their mouth! – note to self google marshmallows in the rest of the world). And I didn’t just consume one or two ‘smores’ – NO, my babies loved me a lot that night, and they just kept making me samples of their sugary love – and the little turds wouldn’t even turn back to lighting sugar on a stick on fire one more time til I took a bite – so though I managed to ditch a few of them in the garbage, I pretty much was forced to consume them.

Well here is an interesting scientific fact – marshmallows and copious amounts of beer do not actually complement each other when combined gastronomically – and in fact, as we all know ‘fresh’ marshmallows (do they ever really get stale???) float when thrown in a lake (or cup of hot chocolate)… well that floating quality does not cease with partial digestion, and in fact flufferbeer puke floats well in the lake also. It does not however clean up very well off of carpet – and like the lake, it floats in the toilet, which by the way, will cause you to hurl again – because it’s oh so lovely to see your puke floating inches from your bloodshot eyeballs. This particular weekend, the hostess saw fit to give us the rooms on the third floor, so by the time we climbed up to the lodge from the beach and then up all those flights of stairs to the lovely little tiny 1930’s bathroom – I frankly thought I may die at the lodge – if not from the flufferbeer rock and roll party in my stomach, then surely from the embarrassment of vomiting all that loving gooiness right into the lake in front of my sweet babies.

So… while I have never really liked marshmallows anyhow, not even as a kid – I really only like them in fruit salad – the idea of a ‘fluffernutter’ sandwich could just be my next diet tool. I think I will find pictures of them and post it on my refrigerator. Maybe pictures of big fat nasty rude people who leave their shopping carts in the middle of the fucking aisle two spaces from the corral after they’ve bought a huge jar of ‘fluff’ and are headed home to binge themselves on the nasty goo.

it's Thursday - another dirty story (#6)

Ah… more inspiration – puke. Oh do we have puke stories.

Puke after field trip… You know when you chaperone the field trip, and the teacher, out of some serious malevolent sadistic moment of revenge (maybe you forgot to make non-chocolate cupcakes for the last birthday, or you questioned her about your kids handwriting on a particularly stressful day) gives you the group with THE KID. Oh yeah, my kids went to a ‘choice’ school, which in part means that you “choose” to chaperone lots of field trips because they need drivers as buses are not in the budget for schools that get 70% ppor (if you need to know about ppor, just ask).

You know that kid… in my oldest daughters class it was a kid named C – he was adorable, and I liked him actually. Funny, didn’t have to be perfect in front of him, could slip and blaspheme or maybe even mutter an expletive when I slammed the trunk on my hand trying to stow 42 more lunches, could even listen to regular rock music and he never bitched that my car smelled like cigarettes. In my youngest daughters class it was C’s younger brother… M. M was even cuter than C with these huge mischievious blue eyes and a little dimply grin that would charm Mother Theresa into letting him TP the Vatican. M also had the same endearing qualities that his brother had – with regard to the music and the vocabularly choices and even the stinky-assed car. They were both monsters however, and most mom’s would NOT chaperone them more than once, so while I accuse the teacher’s of malevolence, I think it was also convenient that I would actually allow the little hellions into my car. I’m not even sure which one, I think M, actually tried to escape from the car on the freeway once. They both would wander off ALL of the time, but I was rather adept at staying BEHIND my group and observing their path to the wrong part of the museum and a quick retrieval before anyone was the wiser. My sons class, which falls in the middle, didn’t have a boy from this particular family. Instead his class had three or four of the little buttwipes from other families – and they made M the escape artist animal abuser and his brother C the vodka drinking porn providing little pervert look like saints. One of these little hooligans, the one whose parents were oblivious to his social idiocies, was placed in my group for a field trip. He was a pale skinned, red headed, way way freckled (those huge freckles that red heads get), chubby, spoiled little pain in everyone’s ass. (Actually his mother was totally to blame, and a bigger pain in the ass than the kid – you know how that goes – he coulda been a cool kid if she hadn’t mollycoddled him and let the world know how freakin perfect she thought he was at every opportunity). Fortunately his more than perfect mother generally chaperoned field trips, so ordinarily no one had to deal with the little beast. (Picture Dudley from the Harry Potter books combined with that little red headed hellion from the Bad News Bears – or was it that hockey movie about ducks???) But alas, the day came when perfect mommy had to go be perfect for her other son, or her husband, or was starting a support group for mom’s who can’t do enough volunteering and ass kissing – and that teacher, she actually even said it out loud to me (how politically incorrect) saddled me with him because she was sure that I was the only parent on the trip that could handle him. Through most of the field trip he was actually rather quiet and compliant – he didn’t bully the other kids too much, far less than usual… he didn’t run off, sass me, insist on getting his own way, etc. He ate his lunch rather than throwing it at people – which was a huge improvement over his usual field trip lunch time antics. Finally, the trip ended – my son of course wanted ‘shotgun’ so the other little darlings – son’s best friend – what a great kid- and another sweet kid that never quite fit in but son and his friend were always kind and included him, and he requested me because he absolutely adored me (still hugged me in SIXTH grade – EVERY time he saw me!) – he knew no one would bully him in my car probably and of course the beast all climbed in the backseat.

You know that look a kid gets on their face about 10 minutes before they puke. That sorta pale green can’t smile or move their facial features in any way, staring blankly and actually starting to look smaller than they are? The beast got that look on his face… about 5 minutes from the school… so I said “hey T, you don’t look good, are you gonna hurl?”. He replied that no, he would not hurl, he was fine he just had a headache. He got greener as I exited the highway and headed up the road to the school. “You sure you’re okay T” “Yes, I just have a headache”… then… that true green, you know the look, and the strange shape the mouth takes… the ‘its about to blow green and puckered look’… we were 100 feet from the door of the school… no sense stopping til we got to the door. As I pulled to the front door, the boys all bailed, they could see it coming too, and the janitor was walking out of the building right at that moment… my son bless his heart ripped open the back door and T leaned out and let fly with the most amazing amount of chunky looking slime… then he got up took three steps and erupted again, the two puddles on the sidewalk nearly touching… a few more steps and another huge puddle, fewer chunks, more volume, running down the sidewalk toward the others. The sidewalk was about 30 feet long to the door… the janitor picked up a quick pace to the kid and pulled a bag from his pants pocket (janitors are like boyscouts, prepared for anything) and handed it to him and guided him into the clinic. The Bell rang – the front doors burst open and 120 first and second graders began pouring out of the school like bees erupting from a broken hive… willy nilly everywhere, and then they stopped… it was a domino effect pileup of small children, trying to stop in time – the kids who could see the huge mess – probably 12-15 feet long and about 4 feet wide, a river of puke – trying to navigate around it with the pressure from behind pushing them forward. I felt compelled to try to direct the traffic, I enlisted the other boys… we were pushing first and second graders to the sides of the river of goo, the teachers couldn’t see the mess but quickly realized that we were redirecting their darlings onto the grass toward the kindergarteners and they were about to lose them all in the confusion before their mom’s could get them. Somehow someone stopped the flow of children out the front door and directed them all back down the halls and through the classrooms that had doors on the front side of the school. Parents who were used to hovering around and picking up their children began to gag and run away, no help at all… they just wanted to determine their child had not made this hideous mess and wasn’t dying somewhere of some fatal gastrointestinal dilemma. Soon the janitor reappeared with the hose, but then disappeared again and went and got the ‘sawdust’ stuff… you know the pink sawdust… wow that stuff is absorbent. I ventured into the clinic to check on T – his butt was sticking up out of the door of the tiny little bathroom that the clinic had attached to it and he was still groaning and moaning and by now heaving more dry than wet. He was also crying, poor kid, so embarrassed and hoping that he hadn’t gotten any in my car. I assured him that vomit can be cleaned and I would go find the teachers or his mom. I arrived back at the 5th grade classrooms where all of the 5th graders had been kept because we “hadn’t returned” yet and they couldn’t be dismissed til they were all accounted for. His mom (bitch) was loudly complaining to the teacher that not only had she sent him with that weird Mrs. Me, but that she knew for a fact that I had probably stopped somewhere on the way back and that I had no consideration for the rules or other people. I, in fact, have never stopped on the way home from a field trip – and I do respect the rules and the teachers, just not usually the other parents. I stepped into the room, and in my best impression of Donna Reed, looked her square in the eye and told her that her son had indeed needed to stop on the way back, but that I had managed to return him all the way to the front walk of the school before he threw up what was apparently 42 gallons of vomit and that he was currently with the Clinic Aide having the most hideous dry heaves I had seen since college. Then the teacher dismissed the class and followed me out to the front where we found the Janitor shoveling pink sawdust into a trash can and cursing that TR Brat! Apparently… T always vomits in such volume, and had done it on several occasions in his years at this school. Further, the kid didn’t know what I meant by ‘hurl’ so he really did think that he was not going to ‘hurl’. I only had to just barely clean up a few wee bits of vomit that barely caught the threshold of the car, and not the rest, so I’m not sure this would have qualified for the contest – but it was nasty just the same.

Listerine... let me count the ways

I just found this and it was never posted... I wrote it last week, looks finished, wonder what I was thinking?

I recently read a blog over at My Tiny Kingdom regarding stinky feet - and I posted there that Listerine actually helps the stinky feet - other things that help - and these of course depend on many factors...

Drop stinky assed sandals (waterproof) and watershoes in the pool overnight - upside down so that the stinky part is in contact with the germ killing chlorine... this is even better if you just 'shocked' your pool... might discolor certain fabrics (you know "chlorine bleach" -- yeah)

Rinse with cold water after bathing/showers, this helps with body odor from ANY part of the body - it's not a cure all, but some feet are stinky enough to use a multi-faceted attack

Two pairs of socks - I know more laundry, but honestly you can buy more shoes or you can try the two pairs of socks -- I have SIX brothers - who all wear TWO pair of socks, and none of them started that until their feet became unbearably smelly - even to themselves. My husband also used to wear two pair when he was working in landscaping and wearing work boots, again no stinky (although he is not a stinky person by nature, but work boots usually are)

And baking soda in shoes does help - although again... once they get the funk, it's too late, this really needs to be done as a preventive to any shoes that you care about... I read over at My Tiny Kingdom about putting it in some socks and then putting the socks in every night... now this just might work for a boy who will not sprinkle every night (hell we are lucky they brush teeth at least every 48 hours and change underwear often enough to have to launder it occasionally)

oh yeah the post title is "Listerine"... so it is supposed to be this hilarious story about Listerine

Okay so I come from this stinky family - my mother's side, though she doesn't have much issue with body odor -- and I was always taught that the aluminum in deodorant is terrible for your health (grew up homeopathic) so we avoided it til of course no one could stand us - so you can table the 'you used deodorant too soon' lecture. My uncle is without question the worst smelling American on the planet - I'm not racist, it's just that I have travelled some, and between lack of plumbing, different hygiene habits, different diets, etc... for we Americans, some people in other parts of the world are pretty smelly (they themselves probably think we stink). Anyhow, dear old Uncle reeks most of the time, but my Aunt always said that was in part due to the fact that he smokes like a chimney and drinks 92 pots of coffee each day... while those are both near truths... and well I used to smoke, and I have always been a fairly heavy coffee drinker - I didn't start stinking as bad until I stopped smoking and cut back on the coffee... hmmmmmmmmmmm. Alas, I have to change brands of deodorant (yes with aluminum blah blah) every couple of sticks as Degree will only work for a few months and then is useless so I change to Secret - again only for a few months - probably two sticks and then back to the other... I really don't know as the stink comes mid-stick usually and I just go get the other one. Then, there are fabrics that make it much worse - and I love tank tops, and I think the lack of sleeve just 'massages' the stink glands in the armpits - so if you catch me mid-stick in a sleeveless shirt with any rayon or spandex in the fabric on a hot or stressful day I'm liable to be stinky while my hair is still wet from my shower - seriously... I have noticed myself smelly while I am still IN MY TOWEL from my shower - and if you can smell yourself - you are really disgusting to other people. Add to this that my husband has never touched a stick of deodorant to his armpits his entire life and smells nice all of the time (well unless he rolls in shit or something, but he only does that on rare occasions). So I am very aware, really I am aware - and embarrassed that I stink like good-old-stinky-assed-chain-smoking-coffee-drinking-slightly-creepy Uncle.

It was a day like that, I arrived at work, had to work on one computer right next to my boss - could smell myself - wishing I had worn a wet suit to work so the stink couldn't get out - and I had to go to a meeting. I got to my car to drive to the meeting - and went for my emergency stick of Secret - UGH WRONG CAR! I had taken to driving the kids' car because it gets better gas mileage and my emergency stick of Secret was safely stored in the glove box of my car at home in the driveway. I frantically started searching my purse for some Purell (my mom has recommended this as a way to kill germs and contain odor) dammit it was empty - no doubt my youngest who has some sort of fascination with opening containers but is completely unable to close them again had found it some time previously and then it had probably run all over everything in my purse, but being mostly alcohol probably just made ink run on some important piece of paper and then dried up rather quickly. There I was at the light of a VERY BUSY Denver intersection, when I saw it... the travel listerine I had just purchased for an upcoming trip. And... there were napkins in the glove box. I grabbed a napkin, soaked it in listerine and right there at the red light next to a bazillion delivery guys and across the intersection from a few dozen more, I unbuttoned my blouse (it wouldn't untuck because of the outfit I had on and the seatbelt) and began to warsh my armpits with listerine soaked napkins. It did help with the body odor - and I had that nice medicinal smell too!

I'm sure there are 8 million uses for listerine - so feel free to share them

This weeks menu

As stated earlier, I am going to try to post our menu so that if I share those times when we actually have ideas about what to eat, other folks will offer up some suggestions that will allow me to come up with some variations and we don't eat the same three things in constant rotation (exaggerating for clarity). I have to give credit where credit is due - I still haven't figured out exactly what she wanted so damn bad - but my oldest daughter (the one that cooks) really wanted to go to the store yesterday after I picked them up - she said something about lunch, but all she bought that had anything to do with lunch was sourdough bread. Anyhow, credit goes to her, she said that if we were going [I can't type dammit, I have backspaced over like 15 typos already] we should make a menu and a list. Well bless her heart she even got her sister interested, and thus... we have a menu (for a change) just like the old days when I was an organized mom. It is for a short week, but still.

Tuesday - Porkchops with wine sauce (this is S's specialty, and she was cooking), she also made rice and sauteed zucchini to accompany this

Wednesday - Chicken Cordon Bleu (another specialty of daughter), I believe she is planning on asparagus and rice pilaf with this (she really really likes rice)

Thursday - Sloppy Joes (we have a really busy day this day, so this will rock to come home to something already planned and EASY), we will have steak fries and sliced peaches fresh from the Western Slope with this

Friday - BBQ Ribs (my husband is a magician on the grill), I'll make some pasta salad and corn on the cob to go with this

Saturday - Chicken in the Red Pan - another family recipe, you should have seen the delight on my children's faces when I suggested it - not a summer recipe as a rule because it goes in the oven, and we all know you don't bake when it's hot! [I just checked though and that is our small town festival weekend - may have to make a change, we'll see] none the less it's the plan. This is served with Rice (stop laughing, we don't usually have rice three times a week) and there is broccoli and mushrooms in the recipe - that's veggie enough, haha

Sunday - Spaghetti - Daughters boyfriend is going to be here, and she wants him to enjoy a family meal with us - apparently this means something Italian (or Polish-though she didn't suggest any Polish food). Looks like I really only have to cook once all week (WOO HOO) and that might get postponed for harvest festival! You know she will want to cook for her b/f and I won't be allowed near the sauce.

So - the grocery list also follows (keeping in mind that I probably had some of what was needed on hand.

Pork Chops
Chicken Breasts
Matzo Meal
2 Cans Crushed Tomatoes
Sloppy Joe Mix (ps. I never follow the directions!)
Buns
Ribs
Corn on the Cob (buying later at farmers market)
Rice
Zucchini
Asparagus (wth is wrong with Safeway these days, they have this nice asparagus, but they let it sit in nasty water or NO water and it's icky icky)
Rice Pilaf
Broccoli
Prosciutto
Swiss Cheese
Mozzarella
Mushrooms
Tomato Paste
Ground Beef
Red Wine