Last Night

I watched "The 10 Most Fascinating People of 2005".

Of course, being the sort of person who cannot watch people who give me the creeps, I jumped to my local news when the 'fascinating' people were just plain creepy.

Dakota Fanning seems charming. A millionaire kid who does chores and gets no allowance. I must say that her parents must be fascinating also.

Beth Holloway Twiddy should win 'Mother of the Year'. Or, 'Mother Enduring the Most Excruciating Pain'. My heart goes out to her.

Condolessa Rice has class. I admire her.

But really, the rest of them didn't seem fascinating to me at all. And to think that I spent the day trying to guess who the MOST fascinating of all would be.

How utterly disappointed I was to see Camilla Parker Bowles.

I must be fascinated by different things than Barbara is.

I would have chosen the woman who gave birth on the bridge in New Orleans. Without water. Or anything else, for that matter.

Well, in MY little world, the person that I find most fascinating is my unborn Grandson. Today, he had a bad case of the hiccups. This made him extremely frustrated, and caused him to kick and squirm. At one point, it looked like he was going to wrestle his poor mother to the floor.

I find that fascinating.

My Life Today...

...or, Random Fevered Thoughts...

Today I thought of a question everyone should ask themselves -

"What if I'm wrong?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I still have to make the final decision on a new prescription plan for my parents, as theirs expires at the end of the year. This was hard enough to do without a fever, cough and headache.

One of the eight mouse traps was sprung this morning. It looked like we had our guy, but he seems to have pried the trap off as he made his way into a stove burner. Much less awful offal today, which I find to be meaningful.

While The Husband God Gave Me is out of town (seminars in a mansion), I was hoping to get this place in shape. So far I have found that I can carry three arm loads of 'treasure' up the stairs before collapsing into a heap to bark like a seal. Really. I thought of also trying to bounce a big red ball on my nose.

I finished reading Anna Quindlan's "One True Thing". As is my habit, I dog eared the page which contained that phrase. I found it to be thought provoking reading.

Speaking of dogs... Niki had an episode of seizures again today. She seems more confused by them than in any sort of pain. But, she's fine right now.

My phone is ringing like mad today. I never seem to have it on the floor where I am, which means when it rings I have to run for it, and when I get to it, I'm too out of breath to talk.

Did you know that all computer screens flash constantly? Only those suffering from headaches realize this. The thingy that my connection from Comcast comes into flashes green lights nonstop. This is annoying. So is how often the TV screen flashes.

Tonight I think I will put in a Christmas movie. That is, if I can figure out how to connect either the VCR or the DVD player. If not, I will just imagine that I am watching "Holiday Inn" or "White Christmas" as I have seen them so many times that I know them by heart. And that way, there will be no flashing lights.

Tomorrow, I want to feel better.

My wish for you is that you will not have to choose a prescription plan for your parents; you will not have a cough, headache or fever; that terrorist mice will not invade your home; your beloved pet will not have seizures; all the books you read will be thought provoking; flashing lights will not bother you; and that you have wonderful family members who will bring you pizza in a box in your hour of need.

Muttering and Decluttering

Notice this picture. Look at all the clutter. Hear me mutter about the clutter.

Well, this particular room has recently been decluttered. There now stands a lit (but not yet decorated) seven foot Christmas tree (fake). I will post a picture once I get it all just 'so'. For now, I am just enjoying how wonderful it looks without all the clutter.

Since I was sick yesterday The Husband God Gave Me helped out. Now that he is gone, I realized that what he did with all the clutter was to put it back into the last room I had decluttered. So, this morning I dragged Daughter and my own tired self up to that room (which now has those two white rockers in it) and proceeded to redeclutter that room.

While this is going on, my kitchen has been taken over by terrorist mice. Apparently, we have sealed up the holes so well that they cannot get out. Over the weekend THGGM (who thinks mice are cute...can you believe it!?) has caught five of the filthy vermin in traps. As a gesture of his undying love and devotion, he set eight more traps before he left town.

Mice make me angry. Today alone, I have said many a vulgar word. Words that vividly describe the awful offal these horrid creatures leave behind.

I can no longer stand Walt Disney for his effort to make mice appear charming. He failed. He made a lot of money, but he failed.

Now I must go cry...and redeclutter...and ponder,..why did God create mice? Why did Mrs. Noah let them on the ark?? Why do mice poop so much???

Sharing Is Sometimes Overrated

My Three-year-old friend shared some germs with me that she picked up from preschool. She was healthy when she came to play, but was morified and surprised by what she was sneezing out towards the end of her stay. For me it is turning into the dreaded December cough, and it isn't even December yet.
When I cough, it feels as if my left eyeball is going to pop out. I sincerely hope that it doesn't.

St. Nicholas Eve

In our family, we began a tradition of celebrating "St. Nicholas Eve". We are Dutch people, and that's what Dutch people do. Although, we began doing it for other reasons...

The Husband God Gave Me used to work in a grocery store. If you've ever been in one, you know that these places get very busy around the holidays. Christmas Eve turned into such a tense and stressful time for me, that we bumped up our holiday to a teensy less busy time. For this day we all drew names, and kept who are 'special person' was a secret. We also put out our shoes, and St. Nicholas filled them with candy.

THGGM no longer works in a grocery store. Neither do the children (although there was one holiday season when they ALL worked there). But, this year on St. Nicholas Eve he will be in St. Louis on business. So, not being slaves to tradition, we celebrated at breakfast this morning.

We went to Daughther and Son-in-law's house. It was lovely. My special person this year was Son-in-law. I got him a level and a gift card to Home Depot. Thankfully, this caused him to make all of the right noises.

Daughter-in-law had my name, and gave me the most wonderful gifts of all - BOOKS! I'm collecting "The Night Before Christmas" books, and she got me one with a family of Goblins. Too cute. I love it. She also got me two "Mutts" books. I dragged myself away from those for just a few minutes to post this. And, three delightful Christmas books in a box called "A Little Box of Christmas". She also got me another little book which I plan to read over and over again and laugh until I snort coffee out my nose, but, I do not plan to tell you what it is, as it contains some truths that are in poor taste. It would be time consuming to tell you what pages with which I do not agree, few though they be. Daugher-in-law also loves books. She understands how they make WONDERFUL gifts, and as a bonus, are easy to wrap.

Now, I must get back to my "Mutts" books...

One Month

A month from today is Christmas.

Are you ready?

I've a naked tree standing in my livingroom.

Oh, and piles of Christmas books everywhere.

Plain, yet festive.

Yesterday...

My Three-year-old Friend came to play. She was, as always, an absolute delight.

Normally when she comes we do not watch TV, but yesterday it droned on in the background most of the day.

Because of this, I have a new children's show that I hate. I hate 'Lazytown' something or other. I'm sure there must exist someone who likes it, but don't even try to convince me.

This show would make a wonderful punishment for adults behaving badly. Do it again, and you will be forced to watch this swill for an afternoon.

I have never despised a television show this much since that stupid stupid stupid 'Bubbleland Opera' on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. I LOVE Mr. Roger's, but that 'Bubbleland Opera' could make this sober grown woman cry. I truly hated it.

Yesterday I stood my ground and turned the channel when those strange colorful blobby things on PBS that make weird sighing sounds came on. I don't know what they are, or what they are supposed to be, but they are not welcome in my home.

Ask me in a few years, but I don't think I want Grandson exposed to any of this. His mother HATED television as a child, and hopefully he will also. What I DO know is that he will not be watching lazytown, bubbleland or sighing blobs with ME!

Books That Have Helped Me

I've been pondering what I am thankful for, which has brought me to thinking about the books that have shaped me.

Some of them no longer would I recommend, but they led me to where I am now. Which of course, is usually a state of bemused confusion. The following are books I would still recommend. Although now I am more deeply moved by well written fiction, these are from the days when fiction seemed like a waste of time to me. I don't know what has changed. Maybe I'm no longer so upset about wasting time?

Leanne Payne's books, "Real Presense" and "Listening Prayer"

Edith Schaeffer's "Common Sense Christian Living" and "The Hidden Art of Homemaking"

C.S. Lewis' "Mere Christianity", "The Great Divorce" and "The Inner Ring"

Walter Wangerin's "As For Me and My House"

"Finding God" and "Connecting" by Larry Crabb

"The Cleaver's Don't Live Here Anymore" by Laurie Hall

Dan Allender's "Bold Love"

And, I don't care how bad life gets, no one should ever be without a few stained curled paperback copies of "Calvin and Hobbes" - definitely a sign of a life well lived, and not a waste of anything.

I Was Five Years Old...

...42 years ago when JFK was assasinated. I was home from morning kindergarten. Mom and I were watching TV that afternoon, because she wasn't feeling well.

At the age of five, I wasn't all that aware of what was going on. But, I know my mother really wasn't feeling well, as I distinctly remember her saying with a sigh, 'now this is the only thing that is going to be on TV.'

I wonder what the world would be like if this tragic event had not happened.

I also wonder what else C.S. Lewis would have written if he hadn't died on this same day.

Listen. Can You Hear That?

It is the sound of The Husband God Gave Me snoring. I'm sure that no matter where you live, if you stuck your head out your door, you would hear what sounds like a freight train roaring down a track.

All three children and Son-in-law are here tonight. They are watching a DVD. I retreated to my new 'studio' to finish a book. THGGM came to join me. He turned on some Law and Order type show, and proceded to fall into a deep sleep. After working all day and driving home for four hours, I totally understand.

But the snoring. I'll have to get used to that, as he has moved out of his condo and will be returning his rental car on Sunday. For his future assignments he will be living in a nice hotel and driving our one and only car.

Today he told me that he could apply for a job trainer position in Tampa or Boston. Of course, he won't be, as we are dyed in the wool Mid-Westerners who are about to become first time grandparents. We're staying here. We love to complain about the weather.

Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you SURE you can't hear that? I'm watching 'What Not to Wear' while I write this and I can't even hear what they are saying!

But, he is home. All's well with my world.

Progress. I Am Making Progress.

Tonight I sit in a less messy room. I hired Youngest Son to help me move the heavy stuff from the loft. So far, we have moved a counter top and the two cupboards it rests on, eight drawers full of art supplies, several of those stacking plastic drawer things and my alphabetized Scrabble letters and rubberstamps.

The loft has suddenly turned frighteningly cold. It still has two 'kitchen' tables that need a new place to go, two large bookcases that are filled to overflowing, one small bookcase with hundreds of my favorite magazines and a shiny pink dresser full of a lifetime's worth of snapshots.

Hopefully by tomorrow I will be done. I had planned to have my Three-Year-Old friend spend the day with me, but I'm so far behind I couldn't do it.

Once it is emptied out, I will have to roll up one rug and roll down another. The 'another' rug is bunched up in tiny room where Oldest Son and his broken leg are staying. I'm sure he will appreciate having it moved. Then comes the fun part - moving real furniture back into the loft. I can almost see an end in sight. Almost.

And, I did all this with a fever and flu-like symptoms. I also made dinner for five.

I even found time to read. A bit of Edith Schaeffer's "A Way of Seeing" and Belva Plains' "Whispers".

My dog is doing well. Well enough to dig through the trash while my back was turned. She did her 'on the back happy dance' in the snow.

At one point during my day, it felt like the old days. All three of my children were here. I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. There were piles of art supplies, sewing stuff and books all over the place. Oh wait. It's ALWA YS like that here.

I might have to change the name of my blog from "Anybody Home" to "Anybody Gone?"

See, I am TO boring!

Coming Soon to a Post Near You!

What, you might ask, is all this with the pet pictures?

I am busy.

But soon, I will take the time to post these delightful stories to tickle your need to know about a boring person named Judy.

In posts to come, read about:

As I go through my day, the theme from "Sanford and Son" plays repeatedly through my brain. I am switching my 'art loft' into an empty (i use that term losely) bedroom. I'm having little success.

Daughter is nearing the end of her first pregnancy. Oldest Son is nearing the end of being off his broken leg. January looms magnificently on the horizon for both of them.

Youngest Son is no longer with the most wonderful girlfriend he has ever had. We are trying not to kill him for being such an idiot. Yet, at the same time, since we all love her so much, it's hard not to be happy for her. The only thing Youngest Son has ever committed to is a particular brand of underarm deoderant (warning...do not name your daughter 'old spice').

Frantically, I search for new prescription coverage for my parents. Their total medication costs run around $8,000 yearly. Their insurance company has quit carrying prescription insurance as of December 31. I could rant on and on (and will, someday) about how impossible it is to find out which plan will best cover them, and their plethora of drug needs. Do these people not notice that senior citizens are OLD PEOPLE? When the major need is for drugs to help with dementia, one wonders - if you can't remember what day it is and whether or not you've had lunch yet - HOW CAN YOU MAKE MAJOR DECISIONS ON SUCH COMPLICATED STUFF???

Please check back for a more complete list of things that cause me to grind my teeth.

Good Boy

Meet Charley. He doesn't answer to his name. If you want Charley, you have to say "Good Boy Treat". He spent the first year of his life living under a porch. Because of that, he hates to go outside. Especially in inclimate weather. He is so sweet! Charley belongs to Daughter and Son-in-law.
There. Now you've met the pets.

My Laptop

This is Barb. He is my Laptop. Notice that he is wireless.

If You Look Closely...

...you will see a FLOWER in my backyard. This is of interest, because why, you ask? That would be because nothing has grown in my backyard all year. Of course I do know it is only a weed, but it is MY flower in MY yard, where nothing ever grows. To you, it appears to be just a picture of a weed. To ME it means that it is possible for things to grow there.

MAX, He Who Adores Me

Max is one of Daughter's dogs. He was adopted from an animal shelter when he was eight weeks old. While Daughter was busy with her life, Max and I bonded.

He is a well loved and well cared for pet. But, when he is with "Grandma" he is spoiled rotten. He must have memories of the days I held him on my shoulder, as that is where he tries to lay his 75 pound self whenever he is with me. He nibbles my ear. Only my left ear. He prefers the earring with the diamonds, not the cheap ones.

On one of the first nights after The Husband God Gave Me started working out of state, Max came to 'protect Grandma'. I let him sleep on THGGM's side of the bed. Max snored, kicked, wiggled, drooled and tried to slap the book out of my hand. When I turned out the light, in the darkness he gave my left ear a nibble. His breath smelled like Rolaides. He must have found one on the floor.

When people ask if I miss THGGM while he is gone, I always say 'yes' because it is true. But on that night, in the dark with my eyes closed, I hardly realized he was gone.

That was the only night Max stayed. One male who doesn't want me to read in bed at night is enough.

Dear Old Niki

Friday was one of the saddest days of my life. My dear old Westie, Niki, started to have seizure/tremors and would fall over. She is sixteen. I called the vet to make an appointment to have her put to sleep on Saturday morning. They said they would call me back with the appointment time. I've been just a teensy bit more emotional lately, due to a plethora of different issues, but this one pushed me over the edge into that vague place where nothing seemed 'normal' anymore. Daughter and I made sure she was as comfortable as possible. We talked about how Daughter did not seem excited that July day 16 years ago when Niki came into our lives. When I asked her then she said she was sad because now there was something else in her life that she would love, and it would die. Sixteen years is a nice long time to have a family pet. We are very thankful for that.

This story doesn't have a sad ending. The vet never called back. By evening, dear old Niki was snatching flying pizza crust from the air. She has only had one short episode like that of Friday morning, and at the moment, she is sitting at my feet looking lovingly at me through her cataract dimmed eyes.

Never Too Many Bookshelves

This is the lovely cheap bookshelf I found while antique shopping. I like how it fits on the old oak dresser. It doesn't 'tip' I just can't seem to get the picture straightened out. Someday, at least in my dreams, I might try to strip it and see what is underneath, as it does appear to have good 'bones'.
I'm taking pictures around my house to help me in my efforts to 'declutter'. And, if those efforts fail, which is a distinct possibility, I will know how to put stuff back after Christmas.
Notice the chamber pot filled with green apples. THGGM wants to serve meatballs in it every Christmas.

Seven weeks
to go!

A Post in which Judy Protests Barbaric Hospital Practices

My dad has been in the hospital since last week Thursday night.

As far as hospitals go, he is at a wonderful one.

He has a fabulous tree top view of a beautiful lake, and greatly enjoys watching the sun come up each morning. He has already seen seven sunrises.

His nurses, aides and doctors have all been kind and caring people.

He likes the food. Except for the fact that it is all salt free.

But, I find it barbaric that all hospital rooms are not private. I would go INSANE. Yes. I'm sure of it.

I have only been an overnight patient in a hospital in the maternity ward. We were all there for the same reason.

My dad has already had three different room mates.

First, there was 'loud obnoxious man' who had an awful cough.

Then, it was 'tall dignified-looking man' who left for further treatment at U of M hospital in Ann Arbor.

Now he has 'constent headache man' who I feel particularly bad for, as I understand headaches.

Why do we send our ill to hospitals where they must live with people they do not know?

I do not live in THAT close proximity to those that I dearly love. Yet, here in our most weakened state we are made to live with total strangers.

Two doors down from my dad is 'prisoner man'. This man has an armed guard standing at his door at all times. 'Prisoner man' screams a lot. He also gets a private room. Which, of course, is good. Except to think that the public pays for 'prisoner man' to have a private room, while law abiding citizens share a room and cough, vomit and gasp in front of each other.

Last night my dad was to have visitors who are notorious for talking too loud. I feel sorry for 'constant headache man'.

If I ever have to be hospitalized (which so far has only happened for maternity purposes) I would require a private room. An EXTREMELY private room, as I can't imagine that I would want to socialize and be sick at the same time. And, I would hate to think that I would have to become a convicted felon just to get a private room. But, a girls got to do what a girls got to do.

Stopping By the Dryer on a Windy Evening

Who's dryer this is
I think I know
It's housed within
My backporch though

It will not see me
Stopping here
To fill my washer
Up with Cheer

My little dog
Must thought it queer
To wash without
A dryer near

Between washer
And new machine
The darkest load
Waits to get clean

I give my weary
Head a shake
To see if there
Is some mistake

The only other
Sound's the hum
Of dishwasher
And bus stop bum

The dryer is lovely
White and deep
And I have more
Loads in a heap

And hours to go
Before I sleep
And hours to go
Before I sleep

How to Unwind

Today was the sort of day that will take me a long time to be able to post about. A loonnngggg time.

To make a long story short, I came home from a day spent at the hospital with my dad, who suffers from congestive heart failure and is being closely watched there - and my mom, who suffers from dementia, which was REALLY acting up today. If someone could take my dad's healthy brain and drop it into my mom's healthy body, well...life just might be better as one for the two of them.

Anyway...I came home in great need of unwinding. In my mailbox was the "A Common Reader" catalog. It was just what I needed! If you are not familiar with "A Common Reader" you can check them out on-line at www.commonreader.com I have already dog-eared my copy.

I also had a "Gooseberry Patch" catalog. I'd just recently placed an order with them for six of their booklet size books. Their catalog also does not disappoint, and neither does their website at www.gooseberrypatch.com

The highlight of my day was the moment Son-in-law installed my new dryer! Oh, the joy; oh, the delight! I am so easily amused it is embarrassing. Although I will miss the smell of sunshine and wind on my clothes, I will not miss finding yellow leaves in all my pockets and cuffs.

Well, my battery is low, and it is storming, so this is it for now!

Random Stuff

I've only brain power for random stuff.

I'm still rearranging furniture.

I've five new magazines to read.

I'm making stuff for Christmas.

I've a mad craving for popcorn.

My blood sugar is high.

My dad has been in the hospital since Thursday.

The Husband God Gave Me woke me in the middle of the night, jumping out of bed and yelling "WHAT IS THAT? SOMEONE IS POUNDING ON THE DOOR!". It was thunder. I laughed.

Tomorrow we get a new dryer. It's been over two years. I cannot wait. I hope installing it is as easy has THGGM makes it sound.

I've got the stuff to connect cable internet. Now I have to figure out how to install it. I'll add that to my list of things I am supposed to be figuring out. Simple things like choosing a prescription plan for my parents. Ugh. I feel SO ill prepared.

The leaves here are still gorgeous. Especially the Red Norway Maples. And the poison ivy vines.

My sisters and I are the best daughters in the whole world. I know this, because my mom told me. My mom NEVER lies.

She also told me that she has the best grandchildren in the world. She named all eight of them and said wonderful things about each of them. Sometimes she forgets things. But love, it truly does go on forever.

I tried to write a poem tonight. This is all I've got...

oh woe is me
my brain is shot
i need to think
but i cannot

how can it be
november six
i've still so many
things to fix

i'll feed the cat
and dear old niki
then off to bed
as i feel icky

by morning's light
i will be up
to linger over
my coffee cup

my random stuff
it must now end
i hope this posts
when i hit send

For Your Viewing Enjoyment

This is a picture of The Husband God Gave Me. This was taken just after he fell into a tiny little creek that was covered over with leaves. He is wearing sandles, and his feet are caked with mud. Yet, he smiles. What a guy.

My Friend

Yesterday, my Three Year Old Friend came over to play.

We had a wonderful time together.

She brought me up to date on her life. She now goes potty all by herself, goes to school with the big kids and was a unicorn for trick-or-treat.

Together we raked leaves, pulled weeds and blew bubbles outside.

Inside, we dressed the paper doll in the sticker book, rubberstamped the characters from the Lion King, and looked at books. She isn't much into reading, although she did bring me a book that she told me was her FAVORITE. It was Aristotle's "On Man in the Universe".

We wore our mink hats and she danced with wild abandon to the pre-programed tune on my keyboard. She wanted me to dance, but that would have just been unsightly. I played Beethoven for her, but that just didn't fit her dancing inclinations.

Every empty basket and box she found she declared to be a 'treasure box'. She filled these up with treasure. She thinks my house is FILLED with treasure. I thought so too.

But then, she left.

Reading George MacDonald

I've read several George MacDonald books in the past. Today as I sorted through my piles and piles of books, I came upon "George MacDonald - An Anthology" edited by C.S. Lewis. The introduction so pulled me in that I had to postpone all of my various and sundry plans to read it from cover to cover. It didn't take long.

Here I give to you a sampling:

AVARICE

"Did you ever think of the orgin of the word Avarice?"

"No."

"It comes - at least it seems to me to come - from the same root as the verb have. It is the desire to call things ours - the desire of company which is not of our kind - company such as, if small enough, you would put in your pocket and carry about with you. We call the holding in the hand, or the house, or the pocket, or the power, having; but things so held cannot really be had; having is but an illusion in regard to things. It is only what we can be with that we really possess - that is, what is of our kind, from God to the lowest animal partaking of humanity."

Do You Identify Most with Mary or Martha?

Hmmm.

This was a question at the end of a chapter on Mary and Martha in my Sunday School class on Sunday.

Right off, I can tell you that I am no Martha. No. Right off I can eliminate that one. I'm not like Martha at all. If I was called upon to make food for a large group of people, I would grab up a load of those five dollar pizzas from Little Ceasar's. Martha could not do that. Mostly because the picture of 'Ceasar' on the box would have been a teensy bit tacky at that time. (Do you think that someday, some other culture will have Harry Truman pizza? I hear it's 'da bomb'.)

And Mary. I'm not like Mary. Although I could sit, listen, study, and think deep thoughts all day long, I would truly be remiss if I led someone to believe that I understand the depth of love Mary had for Jesus. And to think that soon, she would have had to stand by and watch him die.

No. I feel that I more relate to the little known younger sister of Mary and Martha. Let's call her Maude. I relate better to Maude. Maude is not mentioned in this particular story, as she was out thrift shopping for devotional books. Particularly those in a lovely shade of mossy green. And, shopping for art supplies. Even though Maude is not an artist, she heard that the local craft store was selling brushes that actual artists use, and for only $1.92 (which I believe translates into a pair of mourning doves and and a tea-stained toga). Maude also made a stop off at a cookbook outlet. Oh, how Maude hates to cook - but looking at those gorgeous pictures of food always gave her a sense of hope. Yes. She would buy a cookbook and look at the pictures and dream of what she would make the next time those 13 guys her sister's were always talking about came around.

Maude didn't make it home that night until everyone was leaving. Martha had a headache, Mary sat pondering what it meant to be the one who had made the better choice. Maude took her purchases up to her room. As she cradled them in her arms, she looked longingly out the window and thought to herself 'I wish someone would hurry up and invent the blogsphere'....