Check out the "other" blog....

I'm posting on "Bogus Journeys" right now...oh, I'll be back here...It's my "happy place".....

Leavin' on a Jet Plane....

I should post SOMETHING! I'll lose the one Follower I've gained!

The Tall One and I are heading off tomorrow for Baltimore, where we'll spend the night in anticipation of our ridiculously early flight to Costa Rica! I'm very excited in the before the trip frenzy, but I'm sad, too, if I stop to think about it. I'm always a bit melancholy before I leave the homestead to travel the world (or the nation, or anywhere I'm staying overnight). I love my home, my routine, my Grands and their mother. I could happily spend the rest of my life right where I am...but, I love to travel, too.

When the kids were small, it was hard. Vacations, no matter how local, were huge logistic nightmares. Three kids in three years, it's triplets on steroids. I don't remember most of our trips. And, what I remember was awful.

I realized I COULD travel, with Wheeler. Working as the body of a quadriplegic is a make or break proposition. And, I could do it with Wheeler in spades (I don't know what that means, but, it's a good thing). In addition to Canada, a cruise, and a couple of visits to his sister in Tennessee, we did multiple business trips, the apex being a week long traveling trade show...all over the state. Carting computers, TV's, and Wheeler and his plethora of maintenance equipment, driving hours everyday, setting up, tearing down, and handling all the paperwork, made me realize the capacity of my abilities. I'm a machine!

Anyway, when Tall One broached the subject of "travel"...I was ready. We started with Paris, and two super packed suit cases...we've whittled the luggage to a backpack each...and really, I don't miss the "extras". We've traveled solo, in tour groups and with cherished friends...and it's all been good.

Costa Rica is solo. Just me and Tall One Magee! I'm looking forward to our time together - even more than usual. Our last few trips have been with friends, or the Grands, and I would welcome them with us this time, but, it is not to be. So, I get Tall One to myself! And, the hotel room to ourselves! And, we will will take full advantage!

We're looking forward to Arenal, and the hot springs and the volcano! In Monteverdi, it's the canopy tour! On to Manual Antonia and the beach! Everywhere, the national parks, the birds, the monkeys, and each other!

On our mark, we're set, let's go.....

Carolina followup....

Following up on the pig races at the N.C. State Fair:

After reading Kristi's comment, I was even more depressed over missing the races...so, through the magic that is the internet...I goggled some videos. O-M-freakin'-G!!!! I'm laughing so hard, I'm crying...and then I found this article. You can't make this stuff up!....I try!:

CHRIS SEWARD - cseward@newsobserver.com

Published Fri, Oct 15, 2010 02:00 AM
Modified Fri, Oct 15, 2010 03:28 PM

Racing Pigs Featured at State Fair by Josh Shaffer, Staff Writer

RALEIGH -- In 27 years, Dennis Cook has trained a thousand racing pigs, sending stampedes of ear-flapping squealers after a plate of Cheetos at the checkered flag.

He has made speedsters out of enough ducks to fill Jordan Lake, transforming a wobbly gang of fowl notorious for clumsiness.

But after a lifetime spent in the company of farm animals, Cook still finds the goats most vexing. Hard-headed in the barnyard; hard-headed on the Hogway Speedway.

"Like being married," Cook joked.

Nearing 60, Cook can still fill five bleachers in his corner of the State Fair. All he has to do is let out a caterwaul and ask, "Have we got some rednecks in here today?"

His pigs, some only 5 weeks old, come bumbling down the gangplank from his trailer and root their way into the starting chutes. Cook explains their zeal for the oval track.

"I have an Australian shepherd I chase them with a few times," he said. "They're smart. They get the idea pretty quick."

Ducks are trickier, especially the flightless variety Cook uses. To inspire a duck to compete, you've got to run around behind it, clapping your hands.

"They've got little-bitty short legs," Cook said.

But goats are like spoiled ballplayers on a $100 million payroll. Crack a hoof and they're on the disabled list. On Thursday, just two hours after the fair's opening, with 300 giddy fans, the goats poked tentatively along the speedway, taking their time.

Hearing Cook describe life as a livestock racer with a black cowboy hat and a long gray handlebar moustache, you'd think he'd wake up some mornings and wish for rain - anything to spoil another danged goat race.

But no. Racing goats is unending, hoofed joy.

"I hated school," Cook said. "I finished the 10th grade. We have a ball. I never know what they're going to do. It's redneck racing."

Some rednecks in attendance Thursday came all the way from Long Island, N.Y. - their fifth trip to the N.C. State Fair. Pig racing is a delicacy to a Northerner, Susan Catanzaro said.

"I thought we could bet on them!" she said. "They're so cute! They don't race pigs in New York."

Fifty feet from the Hogway Speedway, pigs come in barbecue form. But under Cook's watch, they are blue-ribbon champions, jowls smeared with Cheetos dust.

Goin' to Carolina.....

Happy Anniversary a day late, Tall One! I should probably write some mushy, heartfelt, dedication to the eternal love we share...
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Sorry, it's not happening...

Yesterday we left Bigger in school, Baby killing mushrooms on Super Mario Wii, the Princess running in circles dribbling milk, and Daughter, defenseless...and drove 7 hours to visit PhD and Masters in their new home in North Carolina. Can anyone tell me how to get James Taylor out of my head?

Masters called me on the road, she was making her way into work, we talked and planned. We wouldn't see her till the next morning, as she works as a phone counselor (it has NOTHING to do with SEX!) and doesn't get home till after midnight. I was planning on drinking at dinner, and beyond, and knew that I'd never see midnight, no matter how much I missed my daughter-in-law.

PhD took us into town, where we ate at the local brew pub (I highly recommend the black bean quesadillas), drank at the whiskey bar and walked around exploring. It was a lovely, lovely evening.

This morning, we all went to the State Fair. No one had the guts to buy a Crispy Kreme bacon cheese burger, or even the chocolate covered bacon! I'm very disappointed. Masters did save the day with fried pickles with a fried Ho-Ho chaser...so I didn't have to pitch a fit.

We didn't see the pig races, either. We tried, But, the crowd was 10 deep at the track, and I would have had to push through small children and old people, and that seemed very rude here in the land of tender southern social graces. I think I'm having a blood sugar spike from the "pardon me mam"s and the "here you go, honey"s.

Oh, and in case you're keeping track...On Thursday evening, because it was decreed the start of our long weekend, I had some wine with our pizza. And, tonight, as I write and watch the college football game interrupted by flips to the baseball playoff game, I'm drinking sake.

Survivor: Home

I was going to wait a week to post, and then jump out and yell, "Boo"...claiming that I had really died of taking my mother to the doctor, and was miraculously revived by an EMT George Clooney look alike performing CPR. But, I'm really only amusing myself.

The doctor's appointment is over for another YEAR. I no longer have to worry about the semi or bi situation...if Mom stays "stable", her doctor says that she only needs to make the journey annually. What a time saver!

So when is the house going to learn to take care of itself?

I actually don't mind "house work". You know, cleaning, laundry, cooking... It's just exhausting trying to cram it in between all the other "stuff". I've ALWAYS had to stifle the bitch-slap, when female acquaintances used the, "You can just CLEAN so much! tee, hee!" justification for sending their children off to be raised by wolves, while they sashay off to the executive washroom. If you have children in the house, there is constant cleaning. My daughter, a clean and tidy person, is 32 years old with a home of her own, and still, she leaves a trail of detritus all over mine! Used coffee mugs, newspapers, keys, phone, dirty wash, shoes, bags, wrappers, roller-blades, and jackets...and that's just now, looking around, sitting in my chair and minding my own business!

Now, throw in the Grands! They have been instructed by their father and mother to take their shoes off when entering the house. (I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to take MY shoes off when I visit in their home...but, I keep them on. It's my knee jerk rebellion to the mess they leave with me!) The kids DO take off their shoes at my house as well. In the middle of the floor, after walking through mud, jumping in leaves, and using them as a shovel for loose gravel! They play with pennies and marbles, paints and playdoh, oh, and a wonderful invention of my daughter's, DIRT PILES! We take old cookie sheets and put on a scoop of flour, a spoonful of sugar, and a couple of chunks of old brown sugar...then we let the boys, with their matchbox trucks, play in it on the living room coffee table! Wheee!

They find "meteors" at the construction sight, and clean them up in the kitchen sink (have you ever SEEN what meteors do to stainless steel when repeatedly dropped from faucet height?)! They leave every other kitchen surface covered in water and the dish towel (have you ever seen what meteors DO to kitchen towels?) in the dining room. There are hand prints (and tongue prints) on every single window and the TV screen and the mirror and the picture frames and the refrigerator and the dishwasher! If any of them ever disappear (god forbid) the police have unlimited identification sources.

There are books, balls, cards, dolls, legos, puzzles, cars, train sets, and little people farm accessories spread over the entire downstairs living area...then they carry stuff UPSTAIRS at naptime and it mysteriously multiplies while they sleep! And, you don't want to know what they do to the bedding! They knot it, crumble it, and make it into forts! They drag it around, wrap themselves in it, then pee through their pull-ups! They wipe their feet and their noses and the cat's feet and nose with it.

Every surface is sticky. Every carpet, crumb strewn. Every lamp shade is crooked. Every drawer, rearranged. Seriously, we could be robbed or bombed and I'd probably never notice!

I'm not complaining...I'd just like a drink!

It's Still Dark Out....

That is NOT an existential comment on the the state of my mindset or emotional level...it is LITERALLY, dark outside! I had to be up early this morning...and now I'm procrastinating...to take my mother to her semi-annual (I always get confused...shouldn't it be bi-annual if it's every six months?) doctor's appointment. This is more difficult than it sounds.

Five years ago, or is it six, she moved here from an hour away. What was I thinking? Anyway, she lives five minutes from me...an hour from her doctor. She "kept" her doctor...she likes him...and believe me - you want my mother to be HAPPY! So, twice a year we drive an hour for mom to get a refill for her prescriptions.

If I survive, I'll post more later.....

Monday....

I live a charmed life. Well, maybe not "charmed". Not everything I touch turns to gold...but, it doesn't all turn to shit, either. I live a good life, a happy life, a fulfilling life...which would be greatly enhanced by a couple of glasses of wine!

I purchased a Barbara Holland book, after reading her obituary. That's sad isn't it...that death is our introduction...but, that's a bit cerebral and morbid for 8:30a.m. (note to self: topic for post, Bogus Journeys) The book is titled, "The Joy of Drinking"...

I also found another blog to add my growing list of inspiration. I found it through another blog that was recommended by yet another blog...wow! a network. I really, really enjoy reading Heather Armstrong, really, really, really enjoy Heather (http://www.dooce.com). I happened to read some of the "comments" to her most recent post and stumbled onto "One Perfect Word" (http://www.oneperfectword.blogspot.com)...Kristi has promise (she's very talented, I'm talking "promise" in becoming a "favorite" of mine).

Then, I decided I should get off my ass and do something that other people consider "constructive". So I GOT DRESSED! Even TOOK A SHOWER! I'm telling you, I'm oozing into old age...I'm preoccupied with how I feel, and it all has to do with pain and deterioration! Just today, I realized that I'm starting to care less about body hair...I don't shave nearly as compulsively as I once did...and caring for the pubes rarely enters into it at all, now. Of course, there's a lot less to care for.

I was contemplating exercising to my yoga video...Wouldn't just THAT (the contemplation) count as existential exercise?...and then I remembered that Daughter and I wanted to take a walk after our obligatory visit with Nana. There are three Grands involved in "the walk": one double stroller and one single. The single had a flat tire. So, I decided to change the tire.

Changing tires is NOT rocket science, but it is profanity inducing, and you can add it to the list of things one shouldn't attempt while NOT drinking...

Anyway, after the tire change is complete, I'm looking around and thinking about how much I HATE the garage...it does NOT look like an organizational article in Better Homes and Gardens...and I notice a new piece of machinery. WHAT is that...oh, an electric winch! Hummmm....I'm reading "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" (isn't EVERYONE?), so now I'm a little concerned....(to be continued)...

Pshew! It's ok. The winch is for the LAWN MOWER...so that the Tall One can clean the blades...nothing kinky...nothing sadistic...unless you happen to be a lawn mower blade, or have a fetish for same...