I'm posting on "Bogus Journeys" right now...oh, I'll be back here...It's my "happy place".....
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
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.....
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.....
Sunday, October 17, 2010
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!:
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
Modified Fri, Oct 15, 2010 03:28 PM
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Goin' to Carolina.....
Happy Anniversary a day late, Tall One! I should probably write some mushy, heartfelt, dedication to the eternal love we share...
...
...
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.
...
...
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.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
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.....
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, October 11, 2010
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...
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...
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Resolve is Crumbling....
Good Grief, it's only been TWO weeks! I'll probably feel better after I eat dinner, but right now I feel like opening a bottle and sticking in a straw!
Last evening, Tall One and I went to the pub. Tall One is advocating for moderation, and I agree. But, I haven't really lost much, if any, weight, and I'm kind of committed to waiting till NEXT weekend, before I "cheat" at PhD's and Master's house. Did I mention, that next weekend is also our anniversary...so, really it would be most advantageous, for my weight and self-esteem to stick to the plan. So, last night before we went to the pub, Tall One, gave me "permission" to drink...but, I didn't! I got a diet Pepsi...life sucks.
Last evening, Tall One and I went to the pub. Tall One is advocating for moderation, and I agree. But, I haven't really lost much, if any, weight, and I'm kind of committed to waiting till NEXT weekend, before I "cheat" at PhD's and Master's house. Did I mention, that next weekend is also our anniversary...so, really it would be most advantageous, for my weight and self-esteem to stick to the plan. So, last night before we went to the pub, Tall One, gave me "permission" to drink...but, I didn't! I got a diet Pepsi...life sucks.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Still Sober....
Well, here I am. I'm getting more and more bitter that I can't look forward to a glass or two of wine at the end of the day...so, I'm trying to make up for it in whine.
My energy level, physical pain, and stamina don't feel to be positively affected by my abstinence. Believe it or not, I'm considering that good news. I lean strongly towards my hormones as the culprits in my debilitating lethargy, and I'm not particularly interested in pursuing other causes or corrections. I'm hoping to out grow it.
I'm still committed in my resolve not to drink. I do need to drop some weight and I can't imagine having to cut back on food, or increase my physical activity. The older I get, the less inclined I am to suffer. Just as, at one time, I could go without sleep, but now I feel physically ill when I'm sleep-deprived, when I'm feeling hungry, it's almost unbearable, where 10 years ago, it was the norm. As for exercise, I've been experiencing a steady decline in what I'm capable of, as well as what I'm willing to endure.
This isn't a lack of will or an issue remedied by mind-over-matter. Believe me, the spirit is willing....I just hurt. So, I am where I am. I'm looking forward to telling PhD and Master's, when we visit next weekend, that I haven't had a drink in THREE WEEKS! I'm looking forward to feeling a bit slimmer when Tall One and I head off to Costa Rica at the beginning of next month!
My energy level, physical pain, and stamina don't feel to be positively affected by my abstinence. Believe it or not, I'm considering that good news. I lean strongly towards my hormones as the culprits in my debilitating lethargy, and I'm not particularly interested in pursuing other causes or corrections. I'm hoping to out grow it.
I'm still committed in my resolve not to drink. I do need to drop some weight and I can't imagine having to cut back on food, or increase my physical activity. The older I get, the less inclined I am to suffer. Just as, at one time, I could go without sleep, but now I feel physically ill when I'm sleep-deprived, when I'm feeling hungry, it's almost unbearable, where 10 years ago, it was the norm. As for exercise, I've been experiencing a steady decline in what I'm capable of, as well as what I'm willing to endure.
This isn't a lack of will or an issue remedied by mind-over-matter. Believe me, the spirit is willing....I just hurt. So, I am where I am. I'm looking forward to telling PhD and Master's, when we visit next weekend, that I haven't had a drink in THREE WEEKS! I'm looking forward to feeling a bit slimmer when Tall One and I head off to Costa Rica at the beginning of next month!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Rainy Monday Musings....
Monday morning...and it's raining. I know how Karen Carpenter must have felt. I survived the weekend...actually the weekend was a lot of fun, in that grandparently masochistic way...I started a post that I may finish at some point...but, well on to the present....
I am missing my nightcaps. But, not the calories. That's my main concern right now. I don't know that I feel significantly different, enough to abstain completely...but, I really am concerned about the creepage of poundage. Once I've gotten that under control, I'm looking forward, once again, to a glass of red. What I DO like, is reading myself to sleep and remembering what I've read, and getting up more easily in the morning. I'm sure that "moderation" may be the key.
Daughter and Dude brought back a bottle of Tug Boat Red from their trip to the Fingerlakes' wineries. It is very, very good...I took a sip. I was really ok with just the sip. I did treat myself, later in the evening after the Grands left, to a dish of ice cream. To celebrate making it over a week on the wagon...and to cushion the loneliness of the quiet house.
Tall One's been cooking on Sundays...mostly because I don't. But, his meals have been good. Last night's risotto, especially! I'm looking forward to having some for lunch today.
There are some days, like today, that I really do see the allure of Tweeter. I've got thousands of random thoughts bouncing around in my head...but not the ambition to think deeply and flesh them out. But, since I'm not obsessive enough to sit in front of this computer all day, and I don't have internet capability on my shitty cell phone, I'll post a couple of "tweets" right here....
I just looked in the mirror and I've got an awful lot (emphasis on the awful!) of gray hair!
The older we get, the more distractions we need...and yet, can't handle!
Am I a bigot, or just stereotypically astute?
When I have the time, I don't feel like crying...when I feel like crying I don't have the time.
It's getting cold out, I'm wearing socks!
Won't someone, please, make it trendy to wear socks with flip-flops?
It's going to be a busy week (this isn't a "tweet", it's the beginning of a new train of thought). I will be seeing and spending time with my mother each day (except Thursday, and, I'm watching the Grands and working on Thursday). I think that a larger than normal percentage of the tasks will challenge my resolve "to enjoy everything I do, because life is too short to do anything that I don't want to do!".
Tomorrow is the dentist (for me) and the foot doctor (for mom). Wednesday is grocery shopping and light housework for mom. Friday, mom and I are making apple dumplings. This will be the first year she hasn't made them on her own. She never seems to particularly enjoy baking the obscene amount of dumplings she insists are necessary. She gives them all away. They ARE very good...but, it's kind of sad, because nobody REALLY cares and she makes herself sick over the whole project. She dreads it for weeks before, complains about the apples, the mess, the looks of the finished dumplings, and worries herself, to "the annoyance", over whether they are good or not. Afterward, she is stiff, sore, sick and wonders if anyone appreciates her sacrifice. I'm exhausted writing about it.
I wish that, after she is gone, I could remember the annual fall apple dumplings with nostalgia and pathos...but, I think I'll probably just contine on with the overwhelmingly pissed off feeling of being manipulated into feigned enjoyment that permeates so much of my interaction with my mother. This is a two way street, people, believe me. I carry as much, if not more responsibility for my feelings than my mother does. But, now I have to go...to mom's...so I'll have to more fully explore this another day...or not...mostly not...This is really something you'll have to read about on "Bogus Journeys".
I am missing my nightcaps. But, not the calories. That's my main concern right now. I don't know that I feel significantly different, enough to abstain completely...but, I really am concerned about the creepage of poundage. Once I've gotten that under control, I'm looking forward, once again, to a glass of red. What I DO like, is reading myself to sleep and remembering what I've read, and getting up more easily in the morning. I'm sure that "moderation" may be the key.
Daughter and Dude brought back a bottle of Tug Boat Red from their trip to the Fingerlakes' wineries. It is very, very good...I took a sip. I was really ok with just the sip. I did treat myself, later in the evening after the Grands left, to a dish of ice cream. To celebrate making it over a week on the wagon...and to cushion the loneliness of the quiet house.
Tall One's been cooking on Sundays...mostly because I don't. But, his meals have been good. Last night's risotto, especially! I'm looking forward to having some for lunch today.
There are some days, like today, that I really do see the allure of Tweeter. I've got thousands of random thoughts bouncing around in my head...but not the ambition to think deeply and flesh them out. But, since I'm not obsessive enough to sit in front of this computer all day, and I don't have internet capability on my shitty cell phone, I'll post a couple of "tweets" right here....
I just looked in the mirror and I've got an awful lot (emphasis on the awful!) of gray hair!
The older we get, the more distractions we need...and yet, can't handle!
Am I a bigot, or just stereotypically astute?
When I have the time, I don't feel like crying...when I feel like crying I don't have the time.
It's getting cold out, I'm wearing socks!
Won't someone, please, make it trendy to wear socks with flip-flops?
It's going to be a busy week (this isn't a "tweet", it's the beginning of a new train of thought). I will be seeing and spending time with my mother each day (except Thursday, and, I'm watching the Grands and working on Thursday). I think that a larger than normal percentage of the tasks will challenge my resolve "to enjoy everything I do, because life is too short to do anything that I don't want to do!".
Tomorrow is the dentist (for me) and the foot doctor (for mom). Wednesday is grocery shopping and light housework for mom. Friday, mom and I are making apple dumplings. This will be the first year she hasn't made them on her own. She never seems to particularly enjoy baking the obscene amount of dumplings she insists are necessary. She gives them all away. They ARE very good...but, it's kind of sad, because nobody REALLY cares and she makes herself sick over the whole project. She dreads it for weeks before, complains about the apples, the mess, the looks of the finished dumplings, and worries herself, to "the annoyance", over whether they are good or not. Afterward, she is stiff, sore, sick and wonders if anyone appreciates her sacrifice. I'm exhausted writing about it.
I wish that, after she is gone, I could remember the annual fall apple dumplings with nostalgia and pathos...but, I think I'll probably just contine on with the overwhelmingly pissed off feeling of being manipulated into feigned enjoyment that permeates so much of my interaction with my mother. This is a two way street, people, believe me. I carry as much, if not more responsibility for my feelings than my mother does. But, now I have to go...to mom's...so I'll have to more fully explore this another day...or not...mostly not...This is really something you'll have to read about on "Bogus Journeys".
Friday, October 1, 2010
One Week!
Auld Lang Syne is playing in my head, the balloons and confetti are dropping from the ceiling in my mind...all that's missing is the bubbly for toasting...
This morning I was giving Tall One a hard time about his grocery demands, he sarcastically retorted with a very witty comeback, "I'll be glad when you start drinking again." Way to support me you obnoxious so-&-so! Actually, the week has gone well.
Eventually, I imagine thinking about my former nightly glasses of wine, the way I think about my former evening vat of ice cream...oh, how it wish it could be, but it's really not a good idea!
I slept in a little late today. I didn't get up until 6:45a.m. - I had to go over to Wheeler at 2a.m., I wasn't there long, that's not an excuse, I'm just saying! So the goal of getting up at six isn't observed obsessively, but I'm definitely on the plus side!
I haven't gone to the gym at all, but I did start my yoga regime, had a session of kickboxing and used the Nordic track ...so it's been a good week for exercise. And, since I've amended, in my head, my original goal of "Go to the gym once a week" to "Yoga tape"...I feel as if I've made it.
I ran last Saturday, and have a strategy for this Saturday, even though I'm babysitting the Grands for the weekend. I'll run during their nap time, instead of in the morning. That's the plan...it should work...I'll let you know.
Oh, I went to the pub Wednesday night with Tall One and had a soda. It wasn't difficult for me, just a little embarrassing to sit at the bar and NOT drink. But, I, seriously, have no pride left (it's a long story)...so, I'll probably just continue to take up space.
One last thought, I talked to Master's last evening about our upcoming trip to North Carolina, and we're thinking of visiting some wineries and wine stores...it's also the weekend of Tall One's and my 33rd anniversary. I was thinking out loud to Daughter, about the bummer of that timing, and she said I shouldn't be ridiculous - of COURSE I had to have some wine that weekend! So I will!
Time to go...If I don't get to post over the weekend, it's not because I'm drooling through an alcohol induced stupor...it's because I'm moderating an intense Nintendo Wii gaming session, holding a princess, or taking a nap!
This morning I was giving Tall One a hard time about his grocery demands, he sarcastically retorted with a very witty comeback, "I'll be glad when you start drinking again." Way to support me you obnoxious so-&-so! Actually, the week has gone well.
Eventually, I imagine thinking about my former nightly glasses of wine, the way I think about my former evening vat of ice cream...oh, how it wish it could be, but it's really not a good idea!
I slept in a little late today. I didn't get up until 6:45a.m. - I had to go over to Wheeler at 2a.m., I wasn't there long, that's not an excuse, I'm just saying! So the goal of getting up at six isn't observed obsessively, but I'm definitely on the plus side!
I haven't gone to the gym at all, but I did start my yoga regime, had a session of kickboxing and used the Nordic track ...so it's been a good week for exercise. And, since I've amended, in my head, my original goal of "Go to the gym once a week" to "Yoga tape"...I feel as if I've made it.
I ran last Saturday, and have a strategy for this Saturday, even though I'm babysitting the Grands for the weekend. I'll run during their nap time, instead of in the morning. That's the plan...it should work...I'll let you know.
Oh, I went to the pub Wednesday night with Tall One and had a soda. It wasn't difficult for me, just a little embarrassing to sit at the bar and NOT drink. But, I, seriously, have no pride left (it's a long story)...so, I'll probably just continue to take up space.
One last thought, I talked to Master's last evening about our upcoming trip to North Carolina, and we're thinking of visiting some wineries and wine stores...it's also the weekend of Tall One's and my 33rd anniversary. I was thinking out loud to Daughter, about the bummer of that timing, and she said I shouldn't be ridiculous - of COURSE I had to have some wine that weekend! So I will!
Time to go...If I don't get to post over the weekend, it's not because I'm drooling through an alcohol induced stupor...it's because I'm moderating an intense Nintendo Wii gaming session, holding a princess, or taking a nap!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Five!
By last evening, I was feeling grumpy and thought that a glass of wine would be a GREAT idea. So, Tall One and I went for a walk instead. He wondered about my day and I told him. He said, "Ahhh, what are you grumpy about?", and I said, "Probably because I can't have a glass of wine!" The circle begins....
I woke up feeling irritable this morning, too. The actual point of this experiment is to see exactly how alcohol effects my moods, feelings and productivity. It may be that a glass of wine, calms and settles me. It may turn out to be a great stress buster. It could turn out that my hormonal fluctuations are much worse without the calming effects of my nightly red. Or, it could turn out that I feel much better drinking only occasionally. That would definitely be easier on my weight.
In my youth, I struggled with my weight. I was never grossly overweight, I just saw myself that way. I ate all the calorie dense staples of the 60's, 70's, and 80's without the physical exertion necessary to negate it. I would jump on the latest diet bandwagon, only to fall off a week later. In the 90's I hit on a workable solution. I ate high fat, wasted calories foods almost exclusively. I lost about 25 pounds. This was because of the universal truth that if you expend more calories than you eat, you will lose weight. I ate crap, but only a tiny, little bit of crap, or nothing at all. And, then because I couldn't crap I would take a couple of laxatives. This type of diet does not bode well over the long haul. I then got interested in weight training. You can't lift weights and NOT eat. But, weight training and bizarre food patterns go hand in hand. Around this time, Tall One learned to cook. I existed on mostly tuna fish and grilled chicken. I lived for a daily snack of a banana with a little bit of peanut butter. This diet was a huge IMPROVEMENT. More time passed, and I passed into middle age. Right around 47, it all fell apart.
I learned how to eat well to get and stay healthy. I've jumped on a couple of bandwagons. The flax meal bandwagon, and the no fat bandwagon. I tried some supplements, primarily glucosamine/chondroitin. But, in the last years I have mellowed. I eat cheese, but almost never red meat. I drink 1% milk instead of skim. I try very hard to look at the whole picture.
So, now, I know how to eat. I value moderation.
There are similar stages associated with my drinking. First there was the extreme indiscriminate illegal binging of my youth, then the religious inspired tee-totaling of my young adulthood. After I decided I wasn't going to hell for drinking a glass of wine with dinner, I would occasionally have a glass of wine with dinner. Then, we encountered a couple of life glitches, and a couple of glasses of wine became a reward. A way to celebrate making it through another day! Every day now, for a couple of years. Then we discovered the bar!
The crises have passed or mellowed, and now it's time to figure out how to moderate. I'm feeling pretty good this afternoon....I get to be the designated driver tonight...see you in the morning...
I woke up feeling irritable this morning, too. The actual point of this experiment is to see exactly how alcohol effects my moods, feelings and productivity. It may be that a glass of wine, calms and settles me. It may turn out to be a great stress buster. It could turn out that my hormonal fluctuations are much worse without the calming effects of my nightly red. Or, it could turn out that I feel much better drinking only occasionally. That would definitely be easier on my weight.
In my youth, I struggled with my weight. I was never grossly overweight, I just saw myself that way. I ate all the calorie dense staples of the 60's, 70's, and 80's without the physical exertion necessary to negate it. I would jump on the latest diet bandwagon, only to fall off a week later. In the 90's I hit on a workable solution. I ate high fat, wasted calories foods almost exclusively. I lost about 25 pounds. This was because of the universal truth that if you expend more calories than you eat, you will lose weight. I ate crap, but only a tiny, little bit of crap, or nothing at all. And, then because I couldn't crap I would take a couple of laxatives. This type of diet does not bode well over the long haul. I then got interested in weight training. You can't lift weights and NOT eat. But, weight training and bizarre food patterns go hand in hand. Around this time, Tall One learned to cook. I existed on mostly tuna fish and grilled chicken. I lived for a daily snack of a banana with a little bit of peanut butter. This diet was a huge IMPROVEMENT. More time passed, and I passed into middle age. Right around 47, it all fell apart.
I learned how to eat well to get and stay healthy. I've jumped on a couple of bandwagons. The flax meal bandwagon, and the no fat bandwagon. I tried some supplements, primarily glucosamine/chondroitin. But, in the last years I have mellowed. I eat cheese, but almost never red meat. I drink 1% milk instead of skim. I try very hard to look at the whole picture.
So, now, I know how to eat. I value moderation.
There are similar stages associated with my drinking. First there was the extreme indiscriminate illegal binging of my youth, then the religious inspired tee-totaling of my young adulthood. After I decided I wasn't going to hell for drinking a glass of wine with dinner, I would occasionally have a glass of wine with dinner. Then, we encountered a couple of life glitches, and a couple of glasses of wine became a reward. A way to celebrate making it through another day! Every day now, for a couple of years. Then we discovered the bar!
The crises have passed or mellowed, and now it's time to figure out how to moderate. I'm feeling pretty good this afternoon....I get to be the designated driver tonight...see you in the morning...
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Four?
Ok, I've lost count! But, be that as it may, so far, so good! Trite cliches rock!
Yesterday went well. I didn't need to take a nap in the afternoon. I watched some T.V. with Tall One in the evening. The new season opener of "Desperate Housewives", yay! and, the new show, "The Event" which has possibilities although, I'm leery...it could deteriorate a la "24", and that would be disappointing.
The DVR allows us to watch two hours of shows in an hour and a half, so by 9:30pm I was upstairs getting ready for bed and settling down to read. The last couple of nights I haven't sleep soundly, but it's not awful tossing and turning, just longer wakefulness and more frequent trips to the toilet. I am remembering what I read, and not having to reread entire sections while fighting to focus.
In spite of the sleep issue, which may not even be an issue, just a difference...I woke up at 6:06a.m. feeling quite well. I did a half hour on the Nordic, showered, and after a couple of chores, it's 8:55a.m. I'm feeling productive and not draggy.
This bodes well for the "booze hiatus"...but, in order to be completely definitive, I'll have to go through a couple of monthly cycles (making an exception for Costa Rica). "Feeling well" could be attributed to the 20-minutes of relief that I experience every couple of months from hormonal insanity . I imagine this is what "normal" feels like. It's interesting that 5 minutes a month, can define "normal"...but, I'm clinging to it!
I'm encouraged. I'm not feeling uncontrollable cravings for my wine. I'm not eating more to compensate...in fact, I'm not mindlessly grazing, as I have been, while enjoying that second glass after dinner.
Yesterday went well. I didn't need to take a nap in the afternoon. I watched some T.V. with Tall One in the evening. The new season opener of "Desperate Housewives", yay! and, the new show, "The Event" which has possibilities although, I'm leery...it could deteriorate a la "24", and that would be disappointing.
The DVR allows us to watch two hours of shows in an hour and a half, so by 9:30pm I was upstairs getting ready for bed and settling down to read. The last couple of nights I haven't sleep soundly, but it's not awful tossing and turning, just longer wakefulness and more frequent trips to the toilet. I am remembering what I read, and not having to reread entire sections while fighting to focus.
In spite of the sleep issue, which may not even be an issue, just a difference...I woke up at 6:06a.m. feeling quite well. I did a half hour on the Nordic, showered, and after a couple of chores, it's 8:55a.m. I'm feeling productive and not draggy.
This bodes well for the "booze hiatus"...but, in order to be completely definitive, I'll have to go through a couple of monthly cycles (making an exception for Costa Rica). "Feeling well" could be attributed to the 20-minutes of relief that I experience every couple of months from hormonal insanity . I imagine this is what "normal" feels like. It's interesting that 5 minutes a month, can define "normal"...but, I'm clinging to it!
I'm encouraged. I'm not feeling uncontrollable cravings for my wine. I'm not eating more to compensate...in fact, I'm not mindlessly grazing, as I have been, while enjoying that second glass after dinner.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Day Three (reporting on two, too)
Still not drinking. It's not as dramatic as it sounds. I'm not having to follow a 12 step program, or take it one day at a time. Tall One made a lovely pasta dinner last night, and I was fine, really fine, with my water. I actually like water, better than anything other than wine! So, day two, down, on to today!
I was planning to get up and go to the gym with Tall One this morning. He has a rigid schedule that must be accommodated. Other than that, he was very encouraging. However, when it was time to get rolling, promptly at 5:45a.m., I was not feeling the like! I needed to wake up, re-group, and head out later.
Back-story: A couple of weeks ago, I set up the old T.V. and VCR in the game/second guest room/PhD's old digs. While arranging the videos, I found a yoga tape that I had borrowed YEARS ago. I loved my yoga classes, also years ago, and occasionally practice the sun salutation and a couple of poses. I've wanted to get into some sort of yoga routine....for years.
Well, even after coffee and a couple of oranges, I wasn't anymore in like with the gym idea. It's funny (funny, strange - not, funny, haha) because I used to live at the gym...I LOVED to lift. I didn't mind the pain. Coveting the option of standing to pee was the bench mark of a good workout (ladies, do fifty squats, followed by fifty lunges...and by tomorrow you'll know what I'm talkin' 'bout!). Now, just the thought of purposely making my muscles stiff, makes me a little sick. My joints aren't happy campers these days either, and that probably has something to do with it as well.
So, I decided to procrastinate on the gym and check out my yoga video. I'm very glad I did. I was breathing, stretching, sweating...and having a nice time of it. The room is conducive to yoga exercise, the tape is instructive, the routine enough of a challenge without being a discouragement. I feel like I've done something, but just enough of something! So I'm psyched...well, as psyched as one can get about yoga...it's more of a calm acceptance.
I'm going to add a scented candle...
I was planning to get up and go to the gym with Tall One this morning. He has a rigid schedule that must be accommodated. Other than that, he was very encouraging. However, when it was time to get rolling, promptly at 5:45a.m., I was not feeling the like! I needed to wake up, re-group, and head out later.
Back-story: A couple of weeks ago, I set up the old T.V. and VCR in the game/second guest room/PhD's old digs. While arranging the videos, I found a yoga tape that I had borrowed YEARS ago. I loved my yoga classes, also years ago, and occasionally practice the sun salutation and a couple of poses. I've wanted to get into some sort of yoga routine....for years.
Well, even after coffee and a couple of oranges, I wasn't anymore in like with the gym idea. It's funny (funny, strange - not, funny, haha) because I used to live at the gym...I LOVED to lift. I didn't mind the pain. Coveting the option of standing to pee was the bench mark of a good workout (ladies, do fifty squats, followed by fifty lunges...and by tomorrow you'll know what I'm talkin' 'bout!). Now, just the thought of purposely making my muscles stiff, makes me a little sick. My joints aren't happy campers these days either, and that probably has something to do with it as well.
So, I decided to procrastinate on the gym and check out my yoga video. I'm very glad I did. I was breathing, stretching, sweating...and having a nice time of it. The room is conducive to yoga exercise, the tape is instructive, the routine enough of a challenge without being a discouragement. I feel like I've done something, but just enough of something! So I'm psyched...well, as psyched as one can get about yoga...it's more of a calm acceptance.
I'm going to add a scented candle...
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Day One (actually Two, but, well....)
Morning. Sunday. Day two.
I'm going to try posting every morning for a few weeks. Yesterday, I determined, (after seeing some candid pictures of myself) that middle-aged-spread is not the look I'm going for. My diet isn't bad. What I've been doing is sucking down obscene amounts of alcohol calories. Obscene for me...not on the scale of AA meeting obscene.
I've also been dealing with fatigue. Crushing fatigue. This isn't new either. It goes back years. But, alcohol is a depressant after all, and I'm sure it's not helping.
I don't have the energy or the inclination to exercise like I want/need to.
But, I do like my wine. I'm not about to give up, forever, my glass of red with dinner, but, I need to get a base line reading. I need to drop some pounds. So I set some goals.
I'm not going to drink until Tall One and I leave for Costa Rica at the beginning of November. This is five weeks. I will have a good idea by then if abstinence helps my energy level. I fully expect to have lost a few pounds.
I'm going to begin, in earnest, my "training program" for the mudder I want to enter in April with Daughter. I enjoy a run, usually on a Saturday morning. I'm running 3 1/2 miles right now, and I want to add on an additional walk of three miles by the middle of October. I, most weeks, have a "short" run some other time during the week.
I also want to get into the gym once a week to lift. Monday morning is my target day.
And, just because I think it might be good to establish a routine. I will be waking at 6am each day. Sleeping still makes me bitter....such a waste.
So, that's it. So far, so good. I drank diet sodas at the Pub. I ran yesterday. I did not get up at 6am this morning...but, it's the weekend...
I'm going to try posting every morning for a few weeks. Yesterday, I determined, (after seeing some candid pictures of myself) that middle-aged-spread is not the look I'm going for. My diet isn't bad. What I've been doing is sucking down obscene amounts of alcohol calories. Obscene for me...not on the scale of AA meeting obscene.
I've also been dealing with fatigue. Crushing fatigue. This isn't new either. It goes back years. But, alcohol is a depressant after all, and I'm sure it's not helping.
I don't have the energy or the inclination to exercise like I want/need to.
But, I do like my wine. I'm not about to give up, forever, my glass of red with dinner, but, I need to get a base line reading. I need to drop some pounds. So I set some goals.
I'm not going to drink until Tall One and I leave for Costa Rica at the beginning of November. This is five weeks. I will have a good idea by then if abstinence helps my energy level. I fully expect to have lost a few pounds.
I'm going to begin, in earnest, my "training program" for the mudder I want to enter in April with Daughter. I enjoy a run, usually on a Saturday morning. I'm running 3 1/2 miles right now, and I want to add on an additional walk of three miles by the middle of October. I, most weeks, have a "short" run some other time during the week.
I also want to get into the gym once a week to lift. Monday morning is my target day.
And, just because I think it might be good to establish a routine. I will be waking at 6am each day. Sleeping still makes me bitter....such a waste.
So, that's it. So far, so good. I drank diet sodas at the Pub. I ran yesterday. I did not get up at 6am this morning...but, it's the weekend...
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Fair....Game....
Daughter and Dude are off for a mini-vacation. They are traveling, via Amtrak train to New York City, meeting up with Dude's best friend and wife, who are vacationing from California. I'm watching the Grands. I'm thrilled. I'm exhausted, and it's only 9:30 on the first morning.
Bigger was up at 6:30am. The cat took the bed. He had to sleep on the chair. He didn't even have time to get a cover. I need to have a cover up there, on the chair, for emergencies. Noted. Stupid of me not to have anticipated this need. Seems obvious.
Baby is playing Lego video games on the touchscreen computer - which seemed like a good idea at the time. Baby loves that computer, he also loves to eat. He does both at the same time....you don't want to know what that screen looks like. I've become a pro at de-sticking the keyboard. Did you know you could pop off the keys with a butter knife?
Pretty Princess is playing with a plastic basket full of baby spoons, forks and knives that she ferreted out of the cutlery drawer. They don't seem THAT dangerous. And, she's occupied...OF COURSE, she could poke something out...but, I'm playing the odds.
The local Fair is in town. I'm sure by tonight we'll welcome the diversion. Tall One loves the Fair, I am ambivalent. I'm actively ambivalent. I'm radically ambivalent.
When it's just Tall One and me, walking through the Fair is a fun, educational experience, full of local color. I enjoy seeing the farm animals at their very best, groomed and fatted, especially the pigs at feeding time. Actually, it's more of the HEARING of the pigs at feeding time. They sound like what a shark frenzy looks like. The smells from the food stands is intoxicating. The rides look like fun. Even a side show! The tiniest woman in the world! According to the banner, her eight year old son is twice as tall! Something for everyone!
And, the crowds! You won't find a more eclectic collection of people anywhere! Not at the beach, not even at Walmart. People-watching at it's very best! Who needs the side-show? The laissez-faire attitude of the ride operators, contrasts starkly with the non-stop banter of the midway game hucksters. Grandma, out for the evening, followed like a mother duck by her half-dozen children and their children of various sizes. The tattooed couple, in shorts and sleeveless tops, proudly showing their collection of "wearable art". The excited wide eyed children, jostling through the crowd to arrive at the show just a bit before their attentive smiling parents.
When we have the Grands with us, the whole thing takes on a sinister connotation. Like the laughing clown that transforms into the leering lunatic. The animals seem uncared for and ill used. Who's sadistic idea is the "petting" zoo? A rickety folding banquet table arrayed with a couple of dozen baby bunnies, wrapped in filthy blankets struggling to free themselves from the maniacal embraces of girls, 18 months to 12 years, as the life is forever squashed from their fluffy soft bodies. Adults, pushing and trampling to gain a prime vantage point for their children to view the hatching eggs in the makeshift incubator. The children watching joyously as the new born hatch-lings, triumphant from their struggle, drown in the filthy water dishes. Kids kicking over the piles of pygmy goats huddling in the corners, climbing on the calves for a ride, poking at the terrified alpacas with sticks or throwing straw on the defeated, exhausted lambs.
The games are nothing more than impossible ripoffs. How dare the foul barkers approach us with their offensive offers of "win" and their pathetic attempts to lure us with "prizes"? The Grands are too young and naive to appreciate the risk that Tall One and I are taking when we mumble "no thanks". All they see are the goldfish and the sun-bleached stuffed Spongbobs! They want to "play". Anathema!
The food stands look filthy. They are ill equipped and understaffed. You risk bodily injury or starving to death in the lines for service. The rides are unsafe and dangerous - erected in 30 minutes by drug addicted, incompetents, and operated by hung-over funny-uncle Bob! NO SEAT BELTS - on the Ferris wheel! Baby's only FOUR! Gaaaahhhhhhh! Everything is overpriced!
And, who ARE all these people and where do they come from? Look out! Oh my god! Nearly run over by the 462 lb. grandmother on her hoover-round. It's a game of "Dodge the Weirdos" as we're jostled and jolted by her slovenly entourage, hell bent on getting that dozen whoopie pies and cotton candy for dessert, BEFORE they finish their pork bar-b-q's, vat of fries, and extra large homemade rootbeers. How can you eat so much, with so few teeth? What the....exactly IS that tattoo? Don't LOOK! Buddy, for the love of....put on a SHIRT, nobody wants to see that...and put out that cigar...you're gonna burn someone's eye out! Sorry, my bad...."Discount Day for Children of People Who've Married Their First Cousins"!
At the Fair, I feel as if I have to grab the Grands to my bosom, shielding their eyes, covering their ears, and running for cover! They, of course, are enjoying themselves immensely!
Bigger was up at 6:30am. The cat took the bed. He had to sleep on the chair. He didn't even have time to get a cover. I need to have a cover up there, on the chair, for emergencies. Noted. Stupid of me not to have anticipated this need. Seems obvious.
Baby is playing Lego video games on the touchscreen computer - which seemed like a good idea at the time. Baby loves that computer, he also loves to eat. He does both at the same time....you don't want to know what that screen looks like. I've become a pro at de-sticking the keyboard. Did you know you could pop off the keys with a butter knife?
Pretty Princess is playing with a plastic basket full of baby spoons, forks and knives that she ferreted out of the cutlery drawer. They don't seem THAT dangerous. And, she's occupied...OF COURSE, she could poke something out...but, I'm playing the odds.
The local Fair is in town. I'm sure by tonight we'll welcome the diversion. Tall One loves the Fair, I am ambivalent. I'm actively ambivalent. I'm radically ambivalent.
When it's just Tall One and me, walking through the Fair is a fun, educational experience, full of local color. I enjoy seeing the farm animals at their very best, groomed and fatted, especially the pigs at feeding time. Actually, it's more of the HEARING of the pigs at feeding time. They sound like what a shark frenzy looks like. The smells from the food stands is intoxicating. The rides look like fun. Even a side show! The tiniest woman in the world! According to the banner, her eight year old son is twice as tall! Something for everyone!
And, the crowds! You won't find a more eclectic collection of people anywhere! Not at the beach, not even at Walmart. People-watching at it's very best! Who needs the side-show? The laissez-faire attitude of the ride operators, contrasts starkly with the non-stop banter of the midway game hucksters. Grandma, out for the evening, followed like a mother duck by her half-dozen children and their children of various sizes. The tattooed couple, in shorts and sleeveless tops, proudly showing their collection of "wearable art". The excited wide eyed children, jostling through the crowd to arrive at the show just a bit before their attentive smiling parents.
When we have the Grands with us, the whole thing takes on a sinister connotation. Like the laughing clown that transforms into the leering lunatic. The animals seem uncared for and ill used. Who's sadistic idea is the "petting" zoo? A rickety folding banquet table arrayed with a couple of dozen baby bunnies, wrapped in filthy blankets struggling to free themselves from the maniacal embraces of girls, 18 months to 12 years, as the life is forever squashed from their fluffy soft bodies. Adults, pushing and trampling to gain a prime vantage point for their children to view the hatching eggs in the makeshift incubator. The children watching joyously as the new born hatch-lings, triumphant from their struggle, drown in the filthy water dishes. Kids kicking over the piles of pygmy goats huddling in the corners, climbing on the calves for a ride, poking at the terrified alpacas with sticks or throwing straw on the defeated, exhausted lambs.
The games are nothing more than impossible ripoffs. How dare the foul barkers approach us with their offensive offers of "win" and their pathetic attempts to lure us with "prizes"? The Grands are too young and naive to appreciate the risk that Tall One and I are taking when we mumble "no thanks". All they see are the goldfish and the sun-bleached stuffed Spongbobs! They want to "play". Anathema!
The food stands look filthy. They are ill equipped and understaffed. You risk bodily injury or starving to death in the lines for service. The rides are unsafe and dangerous - erected in 30 minutes by drug addicted, incompetents, and operated by hung-over funny-uncle Bob! NO SEAT BELTS - on the Ferris wheel! Baby's only FOUR! Gaaaahhhhhhh! Everything is overpriced!
And, who ARE all these people and where do they come from? Look out! Oh my god! Nearly run over by the 462 lb. grandmother on her hoover-round. It's a game of "Dodge the Weirdos" as we're jostled and jolted by her slovenly entourage, hell bent on getting that dozen whoopie pies and cotton candy for dessert, BEFORE they finish their pork bar-b-q's, vat of fries, and extra large homemade rootbeers. How can you eat so much, with so few teeth? What the....exactly IS that tattoo? Don't LOOK! Buddy, for the love of....put on a SHIRT, nobody wants to see that...and put out that cigar...you're gonna burn someone's eye out! Sorry, my bad...."Discount Day for Children of People Who've Married Their First Cousins"!
At the Fair, I feel as if I have to grab the Grands to my bosom, shielding their eyes, covering their ears, and running for cover! They, of course, are enjoying themselves immensely!
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Hair Today...Gone Tomorrow (I couldn't resist, sorry.)
I'm letting my hair grow.
Throughout high school I had long hair that I took great pains with. I learned to sleep in plastic rollers the size of soup cans. Then I'd spend an hour or so with a "curling" iron...making sure every strand was smooth and straight. You do see the irony? Oh, and I have naturally curly hair. I dyed it. Poured lemon juice and peroxide on it. I washed it every day, lathering twice, and used "creme rinse" to keep the fizz down. I brushed it when it was wet, combed it when it was dry, and generally abused it into submission.
We were married a few years, and I was tired of being held hostage by my artificially straight hair. I decided I needed a perm. I'm really not sure how I arrived at that conclusion. Maybe it was a form of "Stockholm syndrome". You remember big hair? It was going to prove to be just as time consuming as my faux straight style, and I had to buy a pick...but, I needed a change. It would be "different". I would be different, the world would dawn a brighter place, the lion would lie down with the lamb, and I'd be tall and thin...
So I got the perm. I really liked it. Tall One took one look at me and I could tell he DIDN'T. I was crushed. Cried. And, called EVERY female friend, acquaintance and cousin-of-their-boyfriend's-sister-who's-a-beautician for EVERY perm relaxing home remedy known to human kind. I sort of wish I had collected them all in a spiral bond notebook. It would be "fun" to look back at our primitive hair care knowledge or, I could bury it in the yard and give future archeologists a real thrill. I ended up slathering my head in mayonnaise, wrapping that with plastic wrap and sitting under the hood of a portable hair dryer for a couple of days. The perm remained intact, and, I learned a valuable lesson that had nothing to do with sandwich spread. Tall One does not react well to change. I just can't take it personally.
In the early eighties, I decided I needed another drastic change and cut my hair short. It turned out to be a good look. Periodically, over the next two decades I would let it grow, then cut it short again, each time thinking that would be the last time I'd ever have long hair. I was really pushing the "Nana-maxim" - "Thou shalt not have long hair after the age of 25"! Apparently, it's the eleventh commandment. Her "homosexual" (say it without making a sound, just by the exaggerated movement of your mouth, like you're trying to communicate via lip reading to a less than brilliant chimpanzee) hairdresser who lived in the apartment upstairs told her that - 55 YEARS AGO! Seriously, whenever I hear the story, I picture gay Moses (fuchsia robe, eye liner, and a dinner ring) handing down the tablets!
Sometime around our twenty fifth wedding anniversary, I had it cut really, really short. I love that look. Sophisticated woman with an almost shaved do. Except that I don't wear makeup or ear rings, and both of those are crucial to pulling it off. I lost all my femininity. I looked like a cross between a chemo patient and bulldyke (can I say that without offense, or should I just mouth it?). But, it grew out.
Shortly after the tragedy I've memorialized in "A Hair Raising Story of Passion and Loss", I lost interest in my hair. Nothing was working, I didn't hate my hair. I have good hair, it's forgiving and easy going...it was me, not hair. Up until this last cut, my hair style was based entirely on apathy. Now, I'm actively "growing my hair".
Today, my only requisite in a hair style, is that I don't have to mess with it. I like to get up in the morning, stick my head under the spigot, finger comb and go. My hair cooperates with this completely...it still wakes up screaming from the nightmares of it's long ago "Saw"-like captivity. I've found an up-do that works! So I have a bit of diversity. The first time I tried it, Tall One had that look that caused all the problems with my perm. I ignored it. I love the elegant grey-haired-older-woman-in-a-stunning-pashima look. Or, the casual-out-doorsy-older-woman with her braid. God, I hope I don't end up looking like the wicked witch of the west!
Tall One is still petitioning for a short hair cut...I'm not giving in because I imagine his disappointment in finding that by getting my hair cut short...I won't be twenty years younger and twenty pounds thinner.
Throughout high school I had long hair that I took great pains with. I learned to sleep in plastic rollers the size of soup cans. Then I'd spend an hour or so with a "curling" iron...making sure every strand was smooth and straight. You do see the irony? Oh, and I have naturally curly hair. I dyed it. Poured lemon juice and peroxide on it. I washed it every day, lathering twice, and used "creme rinse" to keep the fizz down. I brushed it when it was wet, combed it when it was dry, and generally abused it into submission.
We were married a few years, and I was tired of being held hostage by my artificially straight hair. I decided I needed a perm. I'm really not sure how I arrived at that conclusion. Maybe it was a form of "Stockholm syndrome". You remember big hair? It was going to prove to be just as time consuming as my faux straight style, and I had to buy a pick...but, I needed a change. It would be "different". I would be different, the world would dawn a brighter place, the lion would lie down with the lamb, and I'd be tall and thin...
So I got the perm. I really liked it. Tall One took one look at me and I could tell he DIDN'T. I was crushed. Cried. And, called EVERY female friend, acquaintance and cousin-of-their-boyfriend's-sister-who's-a-beautician for EVERY perm relaxing home remedy known to human kind. I sort of wish I had collected them all in a spiral bond notebook. It would be "fun" to look back at our primitive hair care knowledge or, I could bury it in the yard and give future archeologists a real thrill. I ended up slathering my head in mayonnaise, wrapping that with plastic wrap and sitting under the hood of a portable hair dryer for a couple of days. The perm remained intact, and, I learned a valuable lesson that had nothing to do with sandwich spread. Tall One does not react well to change. I just can't take it personally.
In the early eighties, I decided I needed another drastic change and cut my hair short. It turned out to be a good look. Periodically, over the next two decades I would let it grow, then cut it short again, each time thinking that would be the last time I'd ever have long hair. I was really pushing the "Nana-maxim" - "Thou shalt not have long hair after the age of 25"! Apparently, it's the eleventh commandment. Her "homosexual" (say it without making a sound, just by the exaggerated movement of your mouth, like you're trying to communicate via lip reading to a less than brilliant chimpanzee) hairdresser who lived in the apartment upstairs told her that - 55 YEARS AGO! Seriously, whenever I hear the story, I picture gay Moses (fuchsia robe, eye liner, and a dinner ring) handing down the tablets!
Sometime around our twenty fifth wedding anniversary, I had it cut really, really short. I love that look. Sophisticated woman with an almost shaved do. Except that I don't wear makeup or ear rings, and both of those are crucial to pulling it off. I lost all my femininity. I looked like a cross between a chemo patient and bulldyke (can I say that without offense, or should I just mouth it?). But, it grew out.
Shortly after the tragedy I've memorialized in "A Hair Raising Story of Passion and Loss", I lost interest in my hair. Nothing was working, I didn't hate my hair. I have good hair, it's forgiving and easy going...it was me, not hair. Up until this last cut, my hair style was based entirely on apathy. Now, I'm actively "growing my hair".
Today, my only requisite in a hair style, is that I don't have to mess with it. I like to get up in the morning, stick my head under the spigot, finger comb and go. My hair cooperates with this completely...it still wakes up screaming from the nightmares of it's long ago "Saw"-like captivity. I've found an up-do that works! So I have a bit of diversity. The first time I tried it, Tall One had that look that caused all the problems with my perm. I ignored it. I love the elegant grey-haired-older-woman-in-a-stunning-pashima look. Or, the casual-out-doorsy-older-woman with her braid. God, I hope I don't end up looking like the wicked witch of the west!
Tall One is still petitioning for a short hair cut...I'm not giving in because I imagine his disappointment in finding that by getting my hair cut short...I won't be twenty years younger and twenty pounds thinner.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Grand beginning....
I fully recognize that not everyone is completely enamored by, or even interested in MY grandchildren. I think that, because I choose not to bore people with pictures and "cute" stories, I avoided writing about being a grandmother here on my very own blog. But, all that is about to change! Why shouldn't I write about the most important people in my world! I've written about Tall One, and Daughter and Dude, and O.S., and PhD. and Masters. I spend the great majority of my time and energy with, and on, my grandchildren. I've learned as much or more from them as I have from anyone. I've learned a lot about myself. And, you choose to read about it...or not!
When I talked with other grandmothers, before the birth of Bigger, I heard, "Oh, it's wonderful! You'll love being a grandma! It's really "different"!". And, I thought, "I loved being a mom! How "different" could it be!?!". And, then, Daughter got pregnant with Bigger.
I remember the day Daughter and Dude told us of the "blessed event". I can't remember why I went to their home, it was early in the day, before Dude left for work. They told me, and then Dude called our shop to tell Tall One. "I knocked up your daughter....", he sing, songed. Cute. Well, Dude thought he was cute, and Tall One took it well!
My theory on the utter delight of grandchildren, is simple: All of the joy, none of the crushing responsibility. I've enjoyed wonderful circumstances! Our daughter and Dude bought a home a mile away from ours. I have a good relationship with Daughter. She is my friend, and confident. I respect her. Admire her. I enjoy her company. And, I love her with all of my heart. Dude seems very content to have Tall One and me in their lives. From the time Bigger was born, really before that, he's been a part of my life nearly every day. Our families have meshed in a way that I dreamed could be possible. Daughter works in the business with Tall One. I watch the kids. They have toys here, a computer, a Wii. They have their own sleeping spaces. Their special treats, and food. They don't "come to visit Mammy", they "go to Mammy's house" like "going home".
Bigger was born on the first day of summer. A little over two years later, Baby, burst onto the scene, born on my 50th birthday. Nearly three years later, Pretty Princess arrived, already Queen of our world, on the Ides of March. And, starting today, you'll learn a bit about our journey!
When I talked with other grandmothers, before the birth of Bigger, I heard, "Oh, it's wonderful! You'll love being a grandma! It's really "different"!". And, I thought, "I loved being a mom! How "different" could it be!?!". And, then, Daughter got pregnant with Bigger.
I remember the day Daughter and Dude told us of the "blessed event". I can't remember why I went to their home, it was early in the day, before Dude left for work. They told me, and then Dude called our shop to tell Tall One. "I knocked up your daughter....", he sing, songed. Cute. Well, Dude thought he was cute, and Tall One took it well!
My theory on the utter delight of grandchildren, is simple: All of the joy, none of the crushing responsibility. I've enjoyed wonderful circumstances! Our daughter and Dude bought a home a mile away from ours. I have a good relationship with Daughter. She is my friend, and confident. I respect her. Admire her. I enjoy her company. And, I love her with all of my heart. Dude seems very content to have Tall One and me in their lives. From the time Bigger was born, really before that, he's been a part of my life nearly every day. Our families have meshed in a way that I dreamed could be possible. Daughter works in the business with Tall One. I watch the kids. They have toys here, a computer, a Wii. They have their own sleeping spaces. Their special treats, and food. They don't "come to visit Mammy", they "go to Mammy's house" like "going home".
Bigger was born on the first day of summer. A little over two years later, Baby, burst onto the scene, born on my 50th birthday. Nearly three years later, Pretty Princess arrived, already Queen of our world, on the Ides of March. And, starting today, you'll learn a bit about our journey!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
"Mommy and Me"
I am looking at a mother, live on TV, that is on a campaign, indeed, she took out an ad in the New York Post and has, now, put up a website, to find a wife for her 31 year old grad. student son. Yea, I'm watching her on national television, being seriously interviewed by Ann Curry - well, as seriously as "news" ever gets on the Today show - they aren't treating it as a comedy piece or satire, which would be a nice change. Ann is being VERY supportive and affirming in her questioning of this mother and son. Yes, the son is there, too, sitting next to mom on the sofa. Mom is allowing him to speak a bit.
The thing that really astounds me about this situation is not the fact that a mother would think so highly of her son and the institute of marriage that she would long obsessively for his marital bliss...actually, I can't even imagine WHAT is going through this woman's mind. It's not that the son -the 31 year old son- has consented to this public display of his own gross inadequacies, and that he's allowed creepy "through-the-years-with-my-bestest-girl-MOM" photos to be aired for all the world to cringe at. What causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, is that there are women out there that are actually responding, as I write this, to this woman's website!! Responding with the intention of dating this Mother's (momma's) boy!
If I were Ann Curry - or a reasonable facsimile - this is what I would ask.
"Mom, so your son is a grad. student? And, he doesn't appear to be grossly deformed in any way. Why do you think you have so little regard for and faith in your son's ability to attract and keep a girlfriend that you would even suggest humiliating him in this way?"
"What advice would you give to insure that sons grow into the kind of men that their own mothers can't conceive of their living fulfilling, productive lives without an arranged marriage?"
"Where will the three of you go on your first date?"
"After the marriage, Mom, where will you sleep?" "Really? I believe 60% of mothers that sleep in the same bed as their adult sons, choose the middle!"
"Son, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? Just how long WERE you locked in that damp basement with no light, and only the occasional burning with lit cigarettes to break the monotony?"
"We hear that in addition to your doctoral degree you've also recently completed potty-training and are wearing big boy Elmo underoos?"
"Is it true that Mom will be your best-man for the wedding? And, that she'll accompany you and your lucky bride on the honeymoon to Dollywood!"
"Well, we certainly wish this narcissistic sociopath and her Oedipal complex son the best of luck!" "And, to all the women out there that have called and emailed, hoping for a chance to date this pair......RUN! "
The thing that really astounds me about this situation is not the fact that a mother would think so highly of her son and the institute of marriage that she would long obsessively for his marital bliss...actually, I can't even imagine WHAT is going through this woman's mind. It's not that the son -the 31 year old son- has consented to this public display of his own gross inadequacies, and that he's allowed creepy "through-the-years-with-my-bestest-girl-MOM" photos to be aired for all the world to cringe at. What causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, is that there are women out there that are actually responding, as I write this, to this woman's website!! Responding with the intention of dating this Mother's (momma's) boy!
If I were Ann Curry - or a reasonable facsimile - this is what I would ask.
"Mom, so your son is a grad. student? And, he doesn't appear to be grossly deformed in any way. Why do you think you have so little regard for and faith in your son's ability to attract and keep a girlfriend that you would even suggest humiliating him in this way?"
"What advice would you give to insure that sons grow into the kind of men that their own mothers can't conceive of their living fulfilling, productive lives without an arranged marriage?"
"Where will the three of you go on your first date?"
"After the marriage, Mom, where will you sleep?" "Really? I believe 60% of mothers that sleep in the same bed as their adult sons, choose the middle!"
"Son, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? Just how long WERE you locked in that damp basement with no light, and only the occasional burning with lit cigarettes to break the monotony?"
"We hear that in addition to your doctoral degree you've also recently completed potty-training and are wearing big boy Elmo underoos?"
"Is it true that Mom will be your best-man for the wedding? And, that she'll accompany you and your lucky bride on the honeymoon to Dollywood!"
"Well, we certainly wish this narcissistic sociopath and her Oedipal complex son the best of luck!" "And, to all the women out there that have called and emailed, hoping for a chance to date this pair......RUN! "
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Yup, I'm a "Gamer".
Oh-my-freakin'-gods! I have stumbled across THE most hilarious blog I have read to date! 27b/6...who is this David Thorne (http://www.27bslash6.com/index.html)?? You, whoever you are, need to check this out....
So for the past couple of days I have been reading 27b/6 posts, and laughing till I cry. It's cathartic!
I've been encouraged by David's in-your-face, off-the-wall, irreverence. Perhaps there is hope to make something of my nasty attitude and squandered talent. Pick a topic....I'll make something up!
Life is serious....it truly is. There are awful, painful issues to be dealt with - illness, death, separation, embarrassment, ruin, emotional turmoil. But, there is no reason, whatsoever, that we can't ignore these for a few minutes/hours/days....while we surf the internet! There is support and understanding to be found in Google search! But, I'm thinking we can just chuck it all and create our own reality, mess with each other, and have a good laugh.
Since signing on to Facebook, I've found two games that I've enjoyed. SuperPokePets.com and Farmtown.com. I can't play both at the same time...or I wouldn't be able to shower....or sleep....or save my marriage. So, first I got VERY involved in SPP.
I created personalities for my pets. I dressed them and they developed lives....all by themselves! I swear! Ralphie is a dragon, an Irish dragon. He's hard drinking with a heart of gold. He has a girlfriend. Another SPP pet named RuRu. She's a Panda. And, a bigot. She hates Chickens!
Ruprect is my gay, cross-dressing frog. I did not start out to have a gay, cross-dressing frog...but I've accepted Ruprect. His sycophantic friends, the bunny boys, go everywhere with him. In my SPP world, bunnies are devious and often evil.
Then there's dear Chicken. He's a chicken. Chicken was a gift to me from Daughter. She mocks me mercilessly for my "addiction", so what does she do? Gift me one. Chicken started out "slow" - a characteristic of his mental prowess - but, he's not "slow", he's actually very talented, and smart. He has evolved to "sweet" and innocently naive. Chicken also has a girlfriend, named Noodle. Noodle is a cat. Chicken doesn't believe in "Sylvester and Tweety". He's THAT sweet.
And, then there is Sophie, a cat, another gift from Daughter - she is an enabler. Sophie is the youngest pet, not just chronologically, but emotionally. Sophie is "bad", with an attitude. She has spawned the T.O.T.s club. I forget what T.O.T.s actually stands for (cause, again I didn't make it up - it just happened)....but, they are trouble!
This has evolved completely independent of ME! There are other people on the gaming site that are worthwhile, creative, intelligent, caring, sophisticated, kind, and,,,,well,,,,nice. Soooo.....
I've been gone for while, just a couple of months, taking a break....playing Farmtown. But, I'm ready for a break from farming....and plan on seeing the "kids" again. Probably tonight, probably right now.....
So for the past couple of days I have been reading 27b/6 posts, and laughing till I cry. It's cathartic!
I've been encouraged by David's in-your-face, off-the-wall, irreverence. Perhaps there is hope to make something of my nasty attitude and squandered talent. Pick a topic....I'll make something up!
Life is serious....it truly is. There are awful, painful issues to be dealt with - illness, death, separation, embarrassment, ruin, emotional turmoil. But, there is no reason, whatsoever, that we can't ignore these for a few minutes/hours/days....while we surf the internet! There is support and understanding to be found in Google search! But, I'm thinking we can just chuck it all and create our own reality, mess with each other, and have a good laugh.
Since signing on to Facebook, I've found two games that I've enjoyed. SuperPokePets.com and Farmtown.com. I can't play both at the same time...or I wouldn't be able to shower....or sleep....or save my marriage. So, first I got VERY involved in SPP.
I created personalities for my pets. I dressed them and they developed lives....all by themselves! I swear! Ralphie is a dragon, an Irish dragon. He's hard drinking with a heart of gold. He has a girlfriend. Another SPP pet named RuRu. She's a Panda. And, a bigot. She hates Chickens!
Ruprect is my gay, cross-dressing frog. I did not start out to have a gay, cross-dressing frog...but I've accepted Ruprect. His sycophantic friends, the bunny boys, go everywhere with him. In my SPP world, bunnies are devious and often evil.
Then there's dear Chicken. He's a chicken. Chicken was a gift to me from Daughter. She mocks me mercilessly for my "addiction", so what does she do? Gift me one. Chicken started out "slow" - a characteristic of his mental prowess - but, he's not "slow", he's actually very talented, and smart. He has evolved to "sweet" and innocently naive. Chicken also has a girlfriend, named Noodle. Noodle is a cat. Chicken doesn't believe in "Sylvester and Tweety". He's THAT sweet.
And, then there is Sophie, a cat, another gift from Daughter - she is an enabler. Sophie is the youngest pet, not just chronologically, but emotionally. Sophie is "bad", with an attitude. She has spawned the T.O.T.s club. I forget what T.O.T.s actually stands for (cause, again I didn't make it up - it just happened)....but, they are trouble!
This has evolved completely independent of ME! There are other people on the gaming site that are worthwhile, creative, intelligent, caring, sophisticated, kind, and,,,,well,,,,nice. Soooo.....
I've been gone for while, just a couple of months, taking a break....playing Farmtown. But, I'm ready for a break from farming....and plan on seeing the "kids" again. Probably tonight, probably right now.....
Friday, June 11, 2010
Time-in-a-Bottle
4:10pm....50 more minutes and I can have a drink....kidding!....NOT!
It's actually been an OK day. Nothing bad happened. Everyone seems to be in acceptable spirits.... My massage was canceled for next Tuesday...but, we're rescheduling...The grands are taking their nap. I should probably call my mother-in-law...but, I'm not guilt ridden.
So, why the need for that therapy-in-a-bottle? Alcoholism! Kidding! Really, this time I AM kidding...
Some days I just don't have it in me....know what I mean? I'm ready for nothing. Everything is an effort. It's not that I'm tired or stressed...I'm just...ready for a glass of wine and some mindless TV. Or just a glass of wine...
I sat down to peruse some of my favorite blogs. I don't follow anything religiously, but there are a few bloggers I really like, some funny, one thought provoking (you don't need too many thought provoking bloggers), and even that was just "eh?". I'm not even real excited to check on Facebook, or play Farmtown - two of my favorite useless diversions. But, that's probably exactly what I'm going to do with a before-dinner-aperitif!
4:27pm. In just a couple of minutes to an hour, Nana will call for the evening "check-in". She's old, and riddled with arthritis, a heart murmur, and a superiority complex. But, while most of her ailments will never be cured, and most of her pain can't be alleviated, and she's too old to expect a change of attitude......I'M coping...I have support...and a box of Cabernet.
I bet you think I have a problem....
4:45pm. Yes, I know, it's 5 o'clock SOMEWHERE. Five o'clock is not the magic drinking -switch...but, there's something too decadent about having a drink before 5pm, except on Saturday or Sunday - or, Saturday AND Sunday. Sometimes I have a glass of wine with lunch on the weekend...but not always...and it's not for the same reason I'll take a drink tonight.
Tonight, I'm finished...just played out...for no reason at all...and that, in my opinion is the BEST reason to open up that bottle, sit on the deck, and order out for dinner!
It's 4:54, 4:55, FIVE PM....Who's with me.....
P.S. 7:13pm....I'm just sitting down (in my comfy easy chair with hassock) with my glass of wine...and left overs dinner...all's right with the world...
It's actually been an OK day. Nothing bad happened. Everyone seems to be in acceptable spirits.... My massage was canceled for next Tuesday...but, we're rescheduling...The grands are taking their nap. I should probably call my mother-in-law...but, I'm not guilt ridden.
So, why the need for that therapy-in-a-bottle? Alcoholism! Kidding! Really, this time I AM kidding...
Some days I just don't have it in me....know what I mean? I'm ready for nothing. Everything is an effort. It's not that I'm tired or stressed...I'm just...ready for a glass of wine and some mindless TV. Or just a glass of wine...
I sat down to peruse some of my favorite blogs. I don't follow anything religiously, but there are a few bloggers I really like, some funny, one thought provoking (you don't need too many thought provoking bloggers), and even that was just "eh?". I'm not even real excited to check on Facebook, or play Farmtown - two of my favorite useless diversions. But, that's probably exactly what I'm going to do with a before-dinner-aperitif!
4:27pm. In just a couple of minutes to an hour, Nana will call for the evening "check-in". She's old, and riddled with arthritis, a heart murmur, and a superiority complex. But, while most of her ailments will never be cured, and most of her pain can't be alleviated, and she's too old to expect a change of attitude......I'M coping...I have support...and a box of Cabernet.
I bet you think I have a problem....
4:45pm. Yes, I know, it's 5 o'clock SOMEWHERE. Five o'clock is not the magic drinking -switch...but, there's something too decadent about having a drink before 5pm, except on Saturday or Sunday - or, Saturday AND Sunday. Sometimes I have a glass of wine with lunch on the weekend...but not always...and it's not for the same reason I'll take a drink tonight.
Tonight, I'm finished...just played out...for no reason at all...and that, in my opinion is the BEST reason to open up that bottle, sit on the deck, and order out for dinner!
It's 4:54, 4:55, FIVE PM....Who's with me.....
P.S. 7:13pm....I'm just sitting down (in my comfy easy chair with hassock) with my glass of wine...and left overs dinner...all's right with the world...
Friday, April 23, 2010
It Doesn't Take Much...
Ahhhhhh.....Spring! This has been a beautiful day. Clear, bright, warm - not hot - blue sky, green everywhere, bird song and now - a few high wispy clouds, a fire in the Chimenea on our wood deck adjacent to our wooden barn-home (I know, but you've got to take risks!), I'm nearly finished with my second glass of wine, and Tall One's sitting here beside me (well, actually, catty-corner on the old Adirondack chair that hurts his back). Life is good.
I've probably mentioned something, here or in "Bogus Journeys", about the confiscation of farmland adjacent to our property for a housing development...That is progressing slowly, but surely, but now I'm thinking that our landscaping of trees will be sufficiently grown before suburbia finishes encroaching, that we won't feel but a twinge! (Thank you "Intrusive Government" for the slack housing market!)
There is a favorite Irish punk band playing at our favorite town bar....and as much as I want to go...I'm exhausted and trying to figure a way out...to just stay home and sleep! How lame.
Tall One has his weekly golfing outing early tomorrow morning. Last week we kept the grand-boys overnight and Tall One took Larger golfing. I had to drag MY sorry butt out of bed at 5:30am to make sure they took lunch and drinks...and that Larger's hair was combed and he had pants on! They had a ball! Smaller and I spent the morning together, and Lovely Grand-girl spent her time at "Daddy-day" while Daughter worked. Everyone rendezvoused here after nap-time!
Tomorrow, I think, I have a day off. Who knows what will really happen. My mother could call with a scooter-crisis...she just got her own personal mobility device today, and I'm sure there will be a learning curve. Dude could call for help with the Grands. Hell could freeze over and worlds collide, or MRSA could strike and I could end up spending the week at the ER....but probably NOT!
So, I'm looking forward to sleeping in (after I take the phone call from Nana promptly at 7:55am cause "Clean This House" starts at 8). Catching up with some people I love via email. And, playing with my virtual pets!
Simple pleasures...demented personality...
I've probably mentioned something, here or in "Bogus Journeys", about the confiscation of farmland adjacent to our property for a housing development...That is progressing slowly, but surely, but now I'm thinking that our landscaping of trees will be sufficiently grown before suburbia finishes encroaching, that we won't feel but a twinge! (Thank you "Intrusive Government" for the slack housing market!)
There is a favorite Irish punk band playing at our favorite town bar....and as much as I want to go...I'm exhausted and trying to figure a way out...to just stay home and sleep! How lame.
Tall One has his weekly golfing outing early tomorrow morning. Last week we kept the grand-boys overnight and Tall One took Larger golfing. I had to drag MY sorry butt out of bed at 5:30am to make sure they took lunch and drinks...and that Larger's hair was combed and he had pants on! They had a ball! Smaller and I spent the morning together, and Lovely Grand-girl spent her time at "Daddy-day" while Daughter worked. Everyone rendezvoused here after nap-time!
Tomorrow, I think, I have a day off. Who knows what will really happen. My mother could call with a scooter-crisis...she just got her own personal mobility device today, and I'm sure there will be a learning curve. Dude could call for help with the Grands. Hell could freeze over and worlds collide, or MRSA could strike and I could end up spending the week at the ER....but probably NOT!
So, I'm looking forward to sleeping in (after I take the phone call from Nana promptly at 7:55am cause "Clean This House" starts at 8). Catching up with some people I love via email. And, playing with my virtual pets!
Simple pleasures...demented personality...
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