Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Tuesday. I THINK It's Tuesday.
Well, surprise, surprise!
Today I unpacked more boxes.
THGGM and I have managed NOT to fight or get snarky much during this whole moving ordeal.
But, last night he brought in several boxes of 'stuff' and unloaded it all into the bedroom.
'Stuff' that we didn't need right at that precise moment.
I felt my blood begin to boil, but I tried, I really truly did try NOT to be snarky.
You see, 'the plan' (MY plan) is to bring in ONE BOX at a time, unload it, put the stuff away, and get rid of the empty box.
It works well for me.
It doesn't help THGGM's cause of wanting to be able to park our one car in our two stall garage, which now has a piano in it. Among all of the assorted other things (but not ALL of our assorted other things).
We still haven't found the medium sized box marked 'pink bathroom', and I still don't have a full set of dishes in the kitchen.
The only books I have unpacked are cookbooks, which is sort of ironic, as I still don't have a plug for my electric stove. The pictures are inspiring.
In between answering the door for DSL (too tired to try to figure that out yet), Fed-Ex (bringing shutters), our friend Richard (dropping off a piano), my mom and dad (coming to see the house), my niece (trying to locate her grandparents) I pulled down wallpaper in the dining room. I tried a mixture of Downy and water and it came off somewhat easily. Although, now that I think about it, my shoulders ache. The 'April fresh' smell is good though.
Oh. Did I mention that our phone wasn't working today? Yes. It wasn't.
That might not be a problem if it wasn't that Daughter is nine months pregnant. It would be nice if the phone company installing the DSL could have told us that they would interrupt our service for almost the entire day.
Oh. And did I mention that my sister had surgery this morning? Yes. She did. But everything was fine and all is well.
Oh, yes. I also had several appointments I needed to set up for myself which was impossible to do without a phone. So, THGGM made the calls from work. He also called the phone company, who told him what was up - but he had no way to tell ME what was up.
Peeling off wallpaper is good therapy. Good thing. As I think I will be 'in therapy' for quite a few more rooms.
Monday, July 30, 2007
It's Starting to Look Like Home!
Here are two pictures of the living room.
It's the only room THGGM has painted, so far. He has been a VERY busy man.
We've been spending most of our time in the knotty pine paneled den, or the breeze-
way.
The stove isn't hooked up yet, so tonight we had grilled cheese sandwiches on an electric griddle. I haven't found any spatulas yet, so I've got a few interesting burns on my fingers.
Notice that there is a missing fireplace poker. I thought I had done an incredible job of child proofing.
Baby Boy found the poker and attempted to make a 'cat-kabob'.
The cat is fine. The poker is on a high shelf in a closet.
Labels: new house
We Are In!
And I am SO tired!
Hopefully DSL will be set up soon and I will have the energy to write something, anything.
I'm watching Baby Boy while Daughter goes to the doctor this afternoon.
I keep dreaming that I have to decide what goes into which box.
But, we are here and we are HAPPY!
Hopefully DSL will be set up soon and I will have the energy to write something, anything.
I'm watching Baby Boy while Daughter goes to the doctor this afternoon.
I keep dreaming that I have to decide what goes into which box.
But, we are here and we are HAPPY!
Labels: moving
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Soon and Very Soon...
Daughter and Son-in-law have been working very hard to get the nursery ready for New Baby. Even Baby Boy got into the excitement, helping his daddy put the crib together.
Daughter had a doctor's appointment today, and ended up at the hospital, dilated 4 centimeters.
She's back home, but told she could go into labor anytime now.
Considering that she arrived at the hospital for Baby Boy not even sure she WAS in labor and was already dilated 6 1/2 centimeters, she does need to pay close attention to this!
So, because I am using dial-up until Monday, I will not be on-line except for very brief times to check my e-mail.
See you on the other side of our move!
Labels: new baby
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
I Find This Troubling On So Many Levels
THGGM is working hard at the new house. He thinks that I am working hard here.
Nope.
I'm thinking hard. I'm wondering hard. I'm pondering big time.
And this is the story:
Lest you think that I lived an idealized childhood, I've been reminded that I did not.
For a portion of my childhood, we lived next door to the most horrible family imaginable. A family with six children.
I actually do not know how my parents stuck it out.
These people ran all sorts of illegal activities, including a gambling ring and a prostitution ring besides dealing all manner of drugs and just being disgusting human beings.
If speed dial had existed in the 1970's, all of our neighbors would have had Child Protective Services on theirs.
All six of the children were younger than me, so we were never 'friends'.
I will never forget the day that FINALLY something was done. A social worker arrived to pick up these severely neglected and ill-used children. The way they all cried and carried on one would have thought that they'd lived the lives of "The Brady Bunch".
If I remember correctly, the kids came and went many times. The final removal was based on information one of the daughter's gave. After that, they all moved out.
But, not before leaving one final 'gift'. A pan of gasoline on the stove. Thankfully, a kitchen curtain started fire and alerted a neighbor across the street from us who called the fire department. They discovered the gas, and said if it would have blown, so would have all the houses on our side of the street (this house was the middle house in a row of five - all extremely close together). My sister and I were home alone when all of this transpired.
Over the years we would occasionally hear things about this family. Mostly on the six o'clock news. Things did not go well for most of them.
The oldest daughter, who seemed to have suffered the most, was murdered in California by a serial killer.
The three boys had long records, including attempted murder.
Two of the girls seemed to make it. The younger one was placed in permanent foster care at an early age. I've read a few letters to the editor from the second daughter, who has views on the foster care system. These usually appear after someone has slipped through the system and there is a public outcry of 'why?'
Really. The stuff we knew about this family was horrific. I cannot even begin to imagine what they must have lived through and suffered at the hands of their parents - who it shouldn't seem surprising, were really really stupid people. And I'm sure we did not know half of it.
Last night, just before I was heading to bed, I flipped on the news. A picture was shown, and I thought, 'Hey. I know that guy.'
One of the old neighbor boys. Out of prison after 18 years served for attempted murder.
Stabbed his girlfriend, stabbed her defender to death.
He's still on the run.
The entire thing just sickens me.
My parents, my neighbors, the teachers at school ALL tried to do right for these children.
I'm not trying to draw any conclusions here. But seeing that face brought it all back. Scenes from my childhood. Memories of a family gone wrong. All wrong.
There. I'm done. Just thought someone might want to know where my head is while I'm throwing nine years of living into boxes.
Nope.
I'm thinking hard. I'm wondering hard. I'm pondering big time.
And this is the story:
Lest you think that I lived an idealized childhood, I've been reminded that I did not.
For a portion of my childhood, we lived next door to the most horrible family imaginable. A family with six children.
I actually do not know how my parents stuck it out.
These people ran all sorts of illegal activities, including a gambling ring and a prostitution ring besides dealing all manner of drugs and just being disgusting human beings.
If speed dial had existed in the 1970's, all of our neighbors would have had Child Protective Services on theirs.
All six of the children were younger than me, so we were never 'friends'.
I will never forget the day that FINALLY something was done. A social worker arrived to pick up these severely neglected and ill-used children. The way they all cried and carried on one would have thought that they'd lived the lives of "The Brady Bunch".
If I remember correctly, the kids came and went many times. The final removal was based on information one of the daughter's gave. After that, they all moved out.
But, not before leaving one final 'gift'. A pan of gasoline on the stove. Thankfully, a kitchen curtain started fire and alerted a neighbor across the street from us who called the fire department. They discovered the gas, and said if it would have blown, so would have all the houses on our side of the street (this house was the middle house in a row of five - all extremely close together). My sister and I were home alone when all of this transpired.
Over the years we would occasionally hear things about this family. Mostly on the six o'clock news. Things did not go well for most of them.
The oldest daughter, who seemed to have suffered the most, was murdered in California by a serial killer.
The three boys had long records, including attempted murder.
Two of the girls seemed to make it. The younger one was placed in permanent foster care at an early age. I've read a few letters to the editor from the second daughter, who has views on the foster care system. These usually appear after someone has slipped through the system and there is a public outcry of 'why?'
Really. The stuff we knew about this family was horrific. I cannot even begin to imagine what they must have lived through and suffered at the hands of their parents - who it shouldn't seem surprising, were really really stupid people. And I'm sure we did not know half of it.
Last night, just before I was heading to bed, I flipped on the news. A picture was shown, and I thought, 'Hey. I know that guy.'
One of the old neighbor boys. Out of prison after 18 years served for attempted murder.
Stabbed his girlfriend, stabbed her defender to death.
He's still on the run.
The entire thing just sickens me.
My parents, my neighbors, the teachers at school ALL tried to do right for these children.
I'm not trying to draw any conclusions here. But seeing that face brought it all back. Scenes from my childhood. Memories of a family gone wrong. All wrong.
There. I'm done. Just thought someone might want to know where my head is while I'm throwing nine years of living into boxes.
Labels: my corner of the world
Twin Fawns
Last night, Daughter and Baby Boy spent four hours watching these two fawns in their backyard.
One of them stamped his foot at Daughter when she approached, but they didn't run off.
I'm hoping she doesn't name them.
Although, Bambi and Bam-Bam would seem appropriate.
Five Months Until Christmas!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Kitchen
Welcome to my kitchen!
This is the room I would LOVE to do in vintage 1940's 'kitch'.
But, I will choose to be content.
I like the built in desk with cupboard.
Do notice the gold vinyl flooring.
It is identical to what we have already.
I also like the corner built in cupboard.
Very soon the wall paper will come down and it
will be painted a neutral yellow.
I LOVE yellow. Love it. Yellow. Got to have it.
Labels: new house
Happy Blog Anniversary to Me
I have been at this blog for THREE years.
Wow.
I still cannot believe that anybody bothers to read me.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, my faithful friends.
Wow.
I still cannot believe that anybody bothers to read me.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, my faithful friends.
Labels: memories
We Have the Keys!
This is the front living room window.
THGGM appears to be looking longingly out of the window.
Is he looking for friends?
Without a front-porch-swing view of the world, I wonder how he will cope?
The swing will now hang outside the breeze-way, where he can look in the kitchen window at me, doing dishes.
Labels: new house
Monday, July 23, 2007
The Basement
Welcome to my new basement! The picture on the left shows the 'entry' to the basement.
I think my seven bookcases will go in the space to the right of the fireplace.
On the opposite side there is a similar space, although it's a bit larger with a window. I didn't take a picture of that, as it still had some stuff in it that isn't ours.
The fireplace is gas. I cannot remember what color we are planning to eventually paint it.
Labels: new house
The Pink Bathroom
Soon, the greenish color will be gone, and where it was it will be painted white.
THGGM says the bath tub is comfortable.
Labels: new house
Sunday, July 22, 2007
My Saturday
On Saturdays, THGGM and I work in the early morning and again at night.
In between, we try to PACK in as much as we can.
I think we really appreciate our Saturdays together, because for most of our marriage he worked every single Saturday. To compensate, he had Wednesdays off, which meant we got awfully used to doing fun stuff on days that weren't busy at all. But, those days are gone and I do not pine for them, much.
Today after work we went to breakfast with Youngest Son, Daughter, Son-in-law and Baby Boy. Baby Boy kept us entertained with his vast variety of new words. He is struggling with the whole concept of the word 'please'. He thinks because he says it, he gets it. He wanted Pake to bring him to see the fish, and Pake said 'no'. Baby Boy looked at him and said "I SAID PLEASE!" Although, it sounded more like "I SHAY PLEASH!"
After breakfast we went to an antique mall to pay our last payment on a primitive hutch THGGM had on lay-away. He didn't want to have to move it twice, so lay-away was a convenient option. While he was doing that, I found several things I could not live without. But, then the thought of having to PACK THEM INTO BOXES occurred to me, and I left with one small 'occupied Japan' figurine of a girl playing an accordion. While playing the accordion she is leaning on something that looked like it could hold Q-tips in the bathroom, so I bought her. One must earn ones keep, or something like that.
Next, we went to our new favorite antique mall. It was also having a flea market in the parking lot. I couldn't do the flea market, as it was sunny and I had a migraine last night. No sun for me. Somehow I didn't mind so much the thought of putting the things I found there into boxes. I found an Alexandra Stodard book, and a Bess Streeter Aldrich book which happened to be green! I also found two little delft-ish containers that will kinda sorta match things I have for holding colored pencils and paint brushes in an attractive and somewhat matchy-matchy way.
Lest one thinks I have forgotten that I need to continue PACKING, that is what I did all afternoon.
I hadn't properly put away my Christmas decor because I had grand plans to re-sort it all. That never happened. Until today. I had been dreading it for WEEKS now, and it really was not that big of a deal at all. I bounced back and forth between Christmas decor and PACKING paper. I'm happy to report that I will not need to purchase packages of paper for perhaps and perchance a very very long time. And to think that I thought I was running low on paper.
While I did all that, THGGM did laundry. Our laundry is actually safer when he does it than when I do. He is a picky laundry doer. I just want to get it done. Since what he will miss the most about living here is the front porch, he brought the laundry out and folded it while he swang (swung? swinged? help me here!).
At some point we crossed paths and decided to go to 'the mall' to eat. I poked around in Barnes and Noble, but couldn't even find anything in the two dollar book rack. I had to whimper and whine a little, but THGGM granted me a trip to Michael's, where I purchased BOXES to PACK some photos into. FOUR cardboard/craftboard type photo boxes. I also spent $2.99 for a wooden finial to add to Baby Boy's wooden blocks. We like to build fancy towns and then knock them over. I build/he knocks over. What a team we are.
Leaving Michael's I saw three birds in the pond that looked like green herons. I thought I would check that out. I've seen white egrets and blue herons but these looked green. My plan was to look them up when I got home. But, alas, all of my books are PACKED IN BOXES!
Do you realize that in the end we all get PACKED INTO A BOX? Even cremated remains come to ones family PACKED IN A BOX!
Okay. I'm okay. Sort of.
From there I sat in our car in the drive-way of our new house while THGGM moved sprinklers around. He has been doing this a lot. Watering the grass. I think he is actually looking forward to mowing this lawn. He is happy like a little boy at Christmas about this new house. We get the keys on Monday.
He dropped my off at my mom and dad's house so I could arrange their medications for the week. That was depressing. Not because they weren't doing well, as they were doing VERY well. But, they have fallen into that horrible "gap" meaning that they have no insurance for their medications until they pay $3,000 out of pocket. $3,000 for my dad, and $3,000 for my mom. I suppose we could cry about it. But, we didn't. If crying could cause $6,000 to appear, I would have tried that months ago. No. We will stick with prayer.
I arrived home needing a caffeine jolt. I still had to work. The jolt got me through, but, here it is WAY past my bedtime, and I still have miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.
In between, we try to PACK in as much as we can.
I think we really appreciate our Saturdays together, because for most of our marriage he worked every single Saturday. To compensate, he had Wednesdays off, which meant we got awfully used to doing fun stuff on days that weren't busy at all. But, those days are gone and I do not pine for them, much.
Today after work we went to breakfast with Youngest Son, Daughter, Son-in-law and Baby Boy. Baby Boy kept us entertained with his vast variety of new words. He is struggling with the whole concept of the word 'please'. He thinks because he says it, he gets it. He wanted Pake to bring him to see the fish, and Pake said 'no'. Baby Boy looked at him and said "I SAID PLEASE!" Although, it sounded more like "I SHAY PLEASH!"
After breakfast we went to an antique mall to pay our last payment on a primitive hutch THGGM had on lay-away. He didn't want to have to move it twice, so lay-away was a convenient option. While he was doing that, I found several things I could not live without. But, then the thought of having to PACK THEM INTO BOXES occurred to me, and I left with one small 'occupied Japan' figurine of a girl playing an accordion. While playing the accordion she is leaning on something that looked like it could hold Q-tips in the bathroom, so I bought her. One must earn ones keep, or something like that.
Next, we went to our new favorite antique mall. It was also having a flea market in the parking lot. I couldn't do the flea market, as it was sunny and I had a migraine last night. No sun for me. Somehow I didn't mind so much the thought of putting the things I found there into boxes. I found an Alexandra Stodard book, and a Bess Streeter Aldrich book which happened to be green! I also found two little delft-ish containers that will kinda sorta match things I have for holding colored pencils and paint brushes in an attractive and somewhat matchy-matchy way.
Lest one thinks I have forgotten that I need to continue PACKING, that is what I did all afternoon.
I hadn't properly put away my Christmas decor because I had grand plans to re-sort it all. That never happened. Until today. I had been dreading it for WEEKS now, and it really was not that big of a deal at all. I bounced back and forth between Christmas decor and PACKING paper. I'm happy to report that I will not need to purchase packages of paper for perhaps and perchance a very very long time. And to think that I thought I was running low on paper.
While I did all that, THGGM did laundry. Our laundry is actually safer when he does it than when I do. He is a picky laundry doer. I just want to get it done. Since what he will miss the most about living here is the front porch, he brought the laundry out and folded it while he swang (swung? swinged? help me here!).
At some point we crossed paths and decided to go to 'the mall' to eat. I poked around in Barnes and Noble, but couldn't even find anything in the two dollar book rack. I had to whimper and whine a little, but THGGM granted me a trip to Michael's, where I purchased BOXES to PACK some photos into. FOUR cardboard/craftboard type photo boxes. I also spent $2.99 for a wooden finial to add to Baby Boy's wooden blocks. We like to build fancy towns and then knock them over. I build/he knocks over. What a team we are.
Leaving Michael's I saw three birds in the pond that looked like green herons. I thought I would check that out. I've seen white egrets and blue herons but these looked green. My plan was to look them up when I got home. But, alas, all of my books are PACKED IN BOXES!
Do you realize that in the end we all get PACKED INTO A BOX? Even cremated remains come to ones family PACKED IN A BOX!
Okay. I'm okay. Sort of.
From there I sat in our car in the drive-way of our new house while THGGM moved sprinklers around. He has been doing this a lot. Watering the grass. I think he is actually looking forward to mowing this lawn. He is happy like a little boy at Christmas about this new house. We get the keys on Monday.
He dropped my off at my mom and dad's house so I could arrange their medications for the week. That was depressing. Not because they weren't doing well, as they were doing VERY well. But, they have fallen into that horrible "gap" meaning that they have no insurance for their medications until they pay $3,000 out of pocket. $3,000 for my dad, and $3,000 for my mom. I suppose we could cry about it. But, we didn't. If crying could cause $6,000 to appear, I would have tried that months ago. No. We will stick with prayer.
I arrived home needing a caffeine jolt. I still had to work. The jolt got me through, but, here it is WAY past my bedtime, and I still have miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.
Labels: moving, my corner of the world
Saturday, July 21, 2007
What I Wish For...
I found this on Debra's blog www.debrasotherthoughts.blogspot.com , who found it on Linda's blog...
1. I wish it were 65 degrees all day, and 45 degrees all night. ALL THE TIME.
2. I wish Catherine Marshall had written a few more novels.
3. I wish I had a membership at Fredric Meijer Gardens.
4. I wish I could remodel my new kitchen in 1940's vintage.
5. I wish that I had the metabolism I had at 15.
6. I wish I could take three weeks to travel around Lake Michigan, stopping at all of the really great towns along the way.
7. I wish purse makers would ALWAYS give one the option of the long strapped shoulder bag.
8. I wish I still had a car. And, as long as I'm wishing...I'd like it to be red.
9. I wish my sisters lived closer.
10. I wish it were simpler to live simply.
11. I wish this move were over.
12. I wish this move were over.
13. I wish this move were over.
14. I wish this move were over.
15. Really. I'm not kidding around. I am SICK of packing. I want to do OTHER THINGS. Actually, I can no longer remember what other things I used to do, but, whatever it was, I can tell you that I enjoyed it more than I do packing boxes!
p.s. - i am thankful for all of the things i am packing into boxes. i am just sick of it. sick. sick. sick.
1. I wish it were 65 degrees all day, and 45 degrees all night. ALL THE TIME.
2. I wish Catherine Marshall had written a few more novels.
3. I wish I had a membership at Fredric Meijer Gardens.
4. I wish I could remodel my new kitchen in 1940's vintage.
5. I wish that I had the metabolism I had at 15.
6. I wish I could take three weeks to travel around Lake Michigan, stopping at all of the really great towns along the way.
7. I wish purse makers would ALWAYS give one the option of the long strapped shoulder bag.
8. I wish I still had a car. And, as long as I'm wishing...I'd like it to be red.
9. I wish my sisters lived closer.
10. I wish it were simpler to live simply.
11. I wish this move were over.
12. I wish this move were over.
13. I wish this move were over.
14. I wish this move were over.
15. Really. I'm not kidding around. I am SICK of packing. I want to do OTHER THINGS. Actually, I can no longer remember what other things I used to do, but, whatever it was, I can tell you that I enjoyed it more than I do packing boxes!
p.s. - i am thankful for all of the things i am packing into boxes. i am just sick of it. sick. sick. sick.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Still Waiting...
For Santa Claus to come 'down the chimney', so to speak.
Update: I quite possibly should have combined this post and the previous one. Maybe the tea should be given to Baby Boy to aide santa on his journey.
Labels: baby boy
Hmmm...
I found a tea bag in my kitchen cupboard today.
The tea was called "Smooth Move".
Hmmm. Was this a sign?
I certainly would like this move to go smoothly.
Somehow, I'm not sure that is what the tea is for.
But who knows?
There seems to be a tea for everything these days.
The tea was called "Smooth Move".
Hmmm. Was this a sign?
I certainly would like this move to go smoothly.
Somehow, I'm not sure that is what the tea is for.
But who knows?
There seems to be a tea for everything these days.
Labels: my corner of the world
So Far, So Good
I am stressed beyond measure about moving. THGGM keeps assuring me that all will be well.
I'm not convinced.
No major fights, though.
The previous owners, although they have been in their new place for over two weeks now, have not given us the keys.
This has THGGM frustrated. They are having a garage sale there today, tomorrow and Saturday. THEN they have someone coming to pick up what doesn't sell. THGGM assured her that we would not need the garage, just want to get in to do some painting. No, she said, because she hasn't vacuumed yet.
Oh, well. I'm not ready to move yet.
When we began packing, our goal was to finish one room COMPLETELY before we (I) moved on the the next.
So much for the best laid plans.
Not one room is totally emptied out. No, not one, no, not one.
While packing up an old dresser upstairs, I found a Christmas letter I had written in 1998. That is the year we moved here.
NINE YEARS AGO? And to think that it was just this January that THGGM looked at me and said, "I think we finally have this place how we want it!"
Anyway...
Today my mom and Baby Boy come to play. I hope I don't get confused and attempt to pack them into a box.
OH! And Baby Boy has learned to say "Excuse Me!" Instead of what he had been doing, which was pushing against whomever was in his way while uttering a sound something like "UGGGGH!". Although, his 'excuse me' sounds a bit like "Sue Me!".
(i'm tired.)
I'm not convinced.
No major fights, though.
The previous owners, although they have been in their new place for over two weeks now, have not given us the keys.
This has THGGM frustrated. They are having a garage sale there today, tomorrow and Saturday. THEN they have someone coming to pick up what doesn't sell. THGGM assured her that we would not need the garage, just want to get in to do some painting. No, she said, because she hasn't vacuumed yet.
Oh, well. I'm not ready to move yet.
When we began packing, our goal was to finish one room COMPLETELY before we (I) moved on the the next.
So much for the best laid plans.
Not one room is totally emptied out. No, not one, no, not one.
While packing up an old dresser upstairs, I found a Christmas letter I had written in 1998. That is the year we moved here.
NINE YEARS AGO? And to think that it was just this January that THGGM looked at me and said, "I think we finally have this place how we want it!"
Anyway...
Today my mom and Baby Boy come to play. I hope I don't get confused and attempt to pack them into a box.
OH! And Baby Boy has learned to say "Excuse Me!" Instead of what he had been doing, which was pushing against whomever was in his way while uttering a sound something like "UGGGGH!". Although, his 'excuse me' sounds a bit like "Sue Me!".
(i'm tired.)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Show and Tell
The crayons aren't packed yet. And, I haven't found a box big enough for the BIG paper.
This means that today, we color-colored on the BIG paper.
Baby Boy is still only interested in having me draw balls. I draw them, he colors over the top of them.
But I was able to interest him in other things that start with the letter "B".
Here, he is showing you a letter "B", a bee, a button, a boy, a binky, a beach ball and ME, Beppe!
Labels: baby boy
Pake and Baby Boy
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Why Is This Necessary?
Oh, I am sicker than even I thought.
Today I have been packing my art room.
I can only manage it in little shifts. So, I follow a pattern. I grab four boxes, fill them, label them and stack them.
Then, I sit in front of the air-conditioner for a bit while wondering "What is WRONG with me?!"
I did at one point reach a level were I could tell that at one time I actually had something resembling organization going on.
The room I am disassembling is upstairs and very warm. It's not too hot today, but up there it is rather muggy. Mostly, I am trashing a bunch of stuff I must have at one time thought I could not live without.
The room I am moving it all to is in the basement at the new house and will be much cooler to work in. So, I am only packing things into boxes. The real organization will have to happen at the new place. Hopefully, the book "Where Women Create" and the sequel about organizing it all will come in handy. But first, I have to get it all there.
Seeing what I have kept has made me so angry I want to slap myself. I actually found the cardboard from an empty roll of duct tape. I had painted it with gesso and decoupaged a picture of my mom and her two sisters on to it.
WHAT was I planning to do with THAT? If you can picture an empty roll of duct tape, it is large and bulky. Not what one would think of as bracelet material. Maybe I was going to use it to hold up a rather large round object. But if I were going to do that, the large round object has yet to appear.
I have a book packed away here somewhere called "String to Short to Save" which is a description of a labeled box someone found while cleaning out their parents home. Made me laugh when I first saw it. Now it just makes me sad. I'm appalled by the short pieces of ribbon I have saved. FOR WHAT?
I come from parents who in their prime and even past it were meticulously neat and orderly. Everything had a place and everything was in that place at all times. As a child we never had to hunt for lost objects. Objects were not allowed to become lost.
Then there was my grandma. I must take after her. She had piles of stuff around, and bowls with snips, snails, puppy dog tails, sugar, spice and everything nice to rummage around in. I miss my grandma.
Anyway, while sorting through a box of old Christmas cards, I came across the Christmas letter I wrote in 1998. The year I turned forty. The year we moved here.
The year that just days after we moved in, THGGM traveled to Disney World for work and brought Oldest Son and Daughter with him.
No Disney World this time.
It was fun to read, and reminded me that, yes, this too shall pass.
Today I have been packing my art room.
I can only manage it in little shifts. So, I follow a pattern. I grab four boxes, fill them, label them and stack them.
Then, I sit in front of the air-conditioner for a bit while wondering "What is WRONG with me?!"
I did at one point reach a level were I could tell that at one time I actually had something resembling organization going on.
The room I am disassembling is upstairs and very warm. It's not too hot today, but up there it is rather muggy. Mostly, I am trashing a bunch of stuff I must have at one time thought I could not live without.
The room I am moving it all to is in the basement at the new house and will be much cooler to work in. So, I am only packing things into boxes. The real organization will have to happen at the new place. Hopefully, the book "Where Women Create" and the sequel about organizing it all will come in handy. But first, I have to get it all there.
Seeing what I have kept has made me so angry I want to slap myself. I actually found the cardboard from an empty roll of duct tape. I had painted it with gesso and decoupaged a picture of my mom and her two sisters on to it.
WHAT was I planning to do with THAT? If you can picture an empty roll of duct tape, it is large and bulky. Not what one would think of as bracelet material. Maybe I was going to use it to hold up a rather large round object. But if I were going to do that, the large round object has yet to appear.
I have a book packed away here somewhere called "String to Short to Save" which is a description of a labeled box someone found while cleaning out their parents home. Made me laugh when I first saw it. Now it just makes me sad. I'm appalled by the short pieces of ribbon I have saved. FOR WHAT?
I come from parents who in their prime and even past it were meticulously neat and orderly. Everything had a place and everything was in that place at all times. As a child we never had to hunt for lost objects. Objects were not allowed to become lost.
Then there was my grandma. I must take after her. She had piles of stuff around, and bowls with snips, snails, puppy dog tails, sugar, spice and everything nice to rummage around in. I miss my grandma.
Anyway, while sorting through a box of old Christmas cards, I came across the Christmas letter I wrote in 1998. The year I turned forty. The year we moved here.
The year that just days after we moved in, THGGM traveled to Disney World for work and brought Oldest Son and Daughter with him.
No Disney World this time.
It was fun to read, and reminded me that, yes, this too shall pass.
Labels: moving
Huh.
THGGM pointed out to me an error in a magazine he recently purchased.
This is what he found:
"Here's a trick of the trade - Revive almost any piece of furniture in any condition with a coat of vanish."
Wow! Now why didn't I think of that?
I would happily coat all of my furniture in 'vanish' if I could coat it in 'reappear' once it shows up at the new house.
Certainly they must have meant vaRnish. They could not have meant the toilet cleaner 'Vanish', could they?
In other news -
THGGM has kindly asked that I not hum, whistler, nor sing my annoying 'earworm' songs outloud.
Apparently, 'earworms' are catchy and he has caught a severe case of Signing Time's "Silly Pizza" song.
In closing, I must tell you the latest "Bad Beppe" story.
In the mail yesterday there arrived one of those promotionals for a 'Christmas' idea book. You know the kind. Large pull-out decorating and cooking ideas and even recipe cards.
There was also a sheet of little yellow smily faces wearing Santa hats.
To include Baby Boy in my excitement over all things glossy, I put a santa sticker on the back of his chubby little hand.
This gave me time to peruse the glossy pictures of homes not decorated in stacks of card board boxes.
I heard Baby Boy say "Nummy".
I looked at his hand, and the santa sticker was gone.
I pinched his cute little nose and there on his tongue sat santa, whom I quickly snatched away.
While I lectured him on the dangers of sticker swallowing, all while wagging said sticker in front of his adorable face, he snatched it back and in one quick move I watched it slide down his throat.
"Nummy," he had the gall to say.
Of course, I HAD to tell his mommy, as this sticker was also glossy and I am sure totally unable to be digested.
Someday soon, santa will present an encore.
I wonder if he will still be smiling?
Labels: baby boy
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Remain Sane
I am trying, I really am trying, to remain sane.
Because I felt last night like I might NOT remain sane, I increased my daily medication by half.
I should not have done that.
THGGM came home from church talking about how great the sermon was. I couldn't remember anything. That isn't like me. It was about some guys, brothers, I think. There was a great visual, but all I could think was what a cool head board it would make.
That extra half of meds has put me into a foggy daze of blah. Blah, blah, blah.
Anyway. I'm not sorry that I took it, because my mom was not doing so well this morning in church. Her not doing so well = Me not doing so well.
This makes me feel like a failure. I tried to persuade THGGM to rescue her and return her to my father but he suddenly noticed a light he had failed to turn on, and left. Left me to watch my mom floundering in a sea of unfamiliarity with her normal everyday life. I do not know what to do any more. (notice that i want thggm to solve this for me.)
Sometimes I can tell myself it is somewhat funny. Like when she keeps asking Daughter when she would like to have a baby shower. This sometimes happens eight times in thirty minutes. This is Daughter's second baby, and she doesn't want a shower. It's not the done thing. She just wants to get unpacked and have this baby. So, sometimes she changes the answer. (i've concidered making her a maternity shirt that says in bold print I Do Not Want a Shower, but then, other people would think she is stinky, and she is not. so i won't.)
Last night I was caught in a bold face lie with my mother. I don't lie. But, she has this particular problem of becoming attached to a certain article of clothing and she wears it until it develops a life and culture all it's own. So, I became a 'creative storyteller' and certainly bore no false witness against my neighbor.
I HAD to snatch the pink sweater away from her.
So, when I was at their house last night figuring out their meds and pretending that I have a clue about what is going on with their insurance (i don't), I told her that I would gladly take her sweater home and wash it for her. She said basically, no thank you. I countered with a tale of how I would wash it since she spilled coffee on it at my house on Thursday.
That was a lie. We didn't have coffee on Thursday.
But, it seemed safe enough as it sure looked like coffee all over her pink sweater, and her 'rememberer' has been more haywire lately.
She looked at me like I was a lying fool and proclaimed - 'I don't think we had coffee on Thursday.'
True.
But, I did manage to get the sweater.
I want to find a big blanket, crawl under it and come out sometime in, let's say, October. I like October.
Things in my world seem very unfamiliar too. I hate when things feel unfamiliar.
But, I cannot stop. Things most continue to be sorted, tossed and put into boxes.
Tonight I padded through the fog up into my messy little art room. I filled boxes with rubber stamps. I filled boxes with paper. I filled boxes with 'found elements' that any sane person would know was actually trash and would have pitched. I have two large boxes full of books and papers for decoupage projects.
Next I began sorting out the tools for turning all of that into something. Tools like heat guns, hot glue guns, soldering irons, paper cutters, paints, brushes, inks, pens, markers, punches, a plethora of glues, beads, ribbons,..oh,..this is NEVER going to end!!!!
So, I'm taking deep breaths, knowing that things work out, things always work out, even though I CANNOT POSSIBLY SEE HOW THINGS CAN WORK OUT, they do. (don't they? please say yes.)
There now. I've said it.
I do know that things ULTIMATELY work out for the ULTIMATE good.
I also know that the universe does not exist to grant me temporal happiness. (once or twice wouldn't disturb the fine balance of things though, would it?)
But, I also know that my mom will continue to decline. My dad will grow older. People I love very much will die. Other people have it much worse than me, of that I am sure. But I am not other people, I am me.
Anyway...
Today I told Daughter (who is much more relaxed now that HER move is over) that one of my biggest concerns about moving is that nobody will like us anymore after they move all of our stuff. She assured me that that isn't why nobody likes us.
I am tired. Perplexed. Flummoxed. And, just a teensy bit ornery.
(is it noticeable?)
Labels: and she rants...
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Two Down, Us to Go
Today, Daughter, Son-in-law and Baby Boy moved into their new home.
I LOVE it. It will be perfect for them.
It has FIVE bedrooms. FIVE.
A four stall garage. FOUR.
Three bathrooms. THREE.
And two tired parents. TWO.
One move to go. ONE.
Ours.
Labels: baby boy, moving, my corner of the world
Friday, July 13, 2007
Nap Time
Baby Boy spent the day with me today.
We went to Meijer Gardens (see below).
We watched Mr. Roger's Neighborhood and Signing Time.
I became ill (whenever i am in the sun, i get sick.) and the poor kid spent over a half hour trapped in a tiny bathroom with me. Funny what one can find with which to entertain a small child (i'm not telling what).
After THGGM came home from loading up the moving truck he took Baby Boy to The Mall (what IS the name of that mall???) to ride the horse on the carousal. He LOVED it! Baby Boy did, too.
Now I am on my way to strike the same pose as Baby Boy.
Tomorrow he moves into his 'new' house.
Labels: baby boy, my corner of the world
Vacation Day
THGGM finished with his jury duties Thursday evening. He enjoyed the experience very much. It was an interesting case.
That meant he could use his vacation day he had planned for today.
So, we met Daughter and Baby Boy for breakfast
.
Daughter left for work, and we took Baby Boy to the Meijer Gardens
. 
Baby Boy was ready with his really cool sunglasses!
Baby Boy was all go, Go, GO!
The stroller became something for his aged grandparents to lean on after following him around.
He really likes the horse! Here he is running to the smaller model of the horse that he can touch.
In the Children's Garden Baby Boy LOVED playing in the Great Lakes water feature.
Superior was a little high for him, but Erie was perfect.
We could not have had better weather.
Tomorrow, Baby Boy and his family move into their new house!
A month from today, New Baby is scheduled to arrive.
In ONE month.
Oh, my...
Labels: baby boy, my corner of the world
The Thinker
I have always loved Rodin's "The Thinker".
It seems to me that he is thinking, 'Where did I leave my pants? I bet my keys are in the pocket.'
Anyway, the statue is amazing.
I was sure to point out to Baby Boy what is actually 'art' and what is the result of someone having way too much time on their hands.
"The Thinker" is definitely art.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I'm still using Daughter's laptop, which only has an extremely complicated photo altering program. So today I give you, uncropped, "Pake (frisian for grandpa) and Baby Boy Blowing Bubbles". I would not mention that it is THGGM in the pictures, except that I would not want anyone thinking that I do not shave my legs. 
Today, Baby Boy will be coming to play with Great Grandma and me while his mommy goes to the doctor AND attends the closing on their 'new' house.
Finally. It is finally the day.
Oh, and can I add this here?
I have a new favorite TV show. Besides Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, Signing Time and The Office, I've added a NEW show to my personal 'must see tv'. Do you get Animal Planet? In the morning they have a fabulous show called "Sunrise Earth". Am I the last person on Earth to know about this? Today I am watching horses in the state of Wyoming. I've also seen harbor seals wake up and make their way into the ocean off the coast of California. It is fascinating stuff.
Labels: baby boy, my corner of the world
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Cool Breezes
Today was the kind of day one imagines summer to always be, when it isn't summer.
THGGM has jury duty this week. He arrived home a bit earlier than usual, which delighted Baby Boy.
They played outside together, pouring water, blowing bubbles and hanging laundry on the line.
Another Oswald Chambers Quote
Remember? Oswald Chambers is one of my all-time favorite dead guys.
Have you also noticed that when someone lives who 'knows things' those things that they know are timeless? It never ceases to amaze me that Oswald Chambers died in a desert in Egypt during the Great War. That was a very long time ago, yet what he said has no expiration date.
"Unguarded strength is double weakness. The Bible characters fell on their strong points, never on their weak ones."
Have you also noticed that when someone lives who 'knows things' those things that they know are timeless? It never ceases to amaze me that Oswald Chambers died in a desert in Egypt during the Great War. That was a very long time ago, yet what he said has no expiration date.
"Unguarded strength is double weakness. The Bible characters fell on their strong points, never on their weak ones."
Sunday, July 08, 2007
What's It All About?
Have you ever wondered what's it all about?
I have.
In the past couple of weeks I have been totally annoying THGGM by demanding that he tell me what's it all about.
I've been spinning and twirling and dancing the dance of the perplexed.
The part that has become confusing to me is that I look at the people who would bold face tell me what's it all about and I am not convinced at all that they have a clue.
Not a clue.
So far, this is what I've come up with:
If one wants to know what's it all about one really needs to turn to someone who has just been given a death sentence.
Yes. That is right. Without much variation, those people will tell you that it is all about spending time with those you love. Oh, they might all word it differently, but it seems to simply come down to that.
Not more busy-ness.
Not a full calender.
Not a career change.
Not money, success or fame.
None of that AT ALL.
But why is it that only the dying have a clue?
WHY???
If one has learned these things and still seems to have many good years ahead, what good is the knowledge that the dying give to us - if we do not take it?
I spent a very good portion of my life running around in a frenzy of 'good' activity. If it was a 'good thing' I felt I HAD to do it. And, I did - very well, I might add.
But, hindsight has taught me - along with the words of very dear people who have died - that being busy doing just any good thing is NOT what's it all about.
Who am I? What was I put here to do? Who are the people God has placed right in front of me, for me to love?
In the recent past, when I would fall into this crappy funk I'm in, I would stop and ask myself:
Am I loving God with everything I have? Am I loving my neighbor? Am I seeking justice, loving mercy, walking humbly?
That seems to be what the dying understand.
They understand, or so it seems, that the people they are in relationship with are the ones they are to love. Dying people rarely go out and seek new people to love. But, by the nature of their loving, people are drawn to them.
Why is that?
I do not know.
But, I will continue doing what I know, and see where He leads me.
I have.
In the past couple of weeks I have been totally annoying THGGM by demanding that he tell me what's it all about.
I've been spinning and twirling and dancing the dance of the perplexed.
The part that has become confusing to me is that I look at the people who would bold face tell me what's it all about and I am not convinced at all that they have a clue.
Not a clue.
So far, this is what I've come up with:
If one wants to know what's it all about one really needs to turn to someone who has just been given a death sentence.
Yes. That is right. Without much variation, those people will tell you that it is all about spending time with those you love. Oh, they might all word it differently, but it seems to simply come down to that.
Not more busy-ness.
Not a full calender.
Not a career change.
Not money, success or fame.
None of that AT ALL.
But why is it that only the dying have a clue?
WHY???
If one has learned these things and still seems to have many good years ahead, what good is the knowledge that the dying give to us - if we do not take it?
I spent a very good portion of my life running around in a frenzy of 'good' activity. If it was a 'good thing' I felt I HAD to do it. And, I did - very well, I might add.
But, hindsight has taught me - along with the words of very dear people who have died - that being busy doing just any good thing is NOT what's it all about.
Who am I? What was I put here to do? Who are the people God has placed right in front of me, for me to love?
In the recent past, when I would fall into this crappy funk I'm in, I would stop and ask myself:
Am I loving God with everything I have? Am I loving my neighbor? Am I seeking justice, loving mercy, walking humbly?
That seems to be what the dying understand.
They understand, or so it seems, that the people they are in relationship with are the ones they are to love. Dying people rarely go out and seek new people to love. But, by the nature of their loving, people are drawn to them.
Why is that?
I do not know.
But, I will continue doing what I know, and see where He leads me.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Earworms and Bad Songs (part one)
It took an entire week, but I was able to clear the 'earworm' "Speedy Delivery" song out of my head. Now if I wanted to, which I don't, I could sing it and be done with it.
Because of the ease with which I catch 'earworms' (songs that get stuck in one's head) I should avoid bad songs. I should - but I didn't.
Last night I was awakened at five by THGGM monkeying with the air-conditioner. Otherwise, I do not wake up during the night. On the floor in the bathroom I found a book "Dave Barry's Book of Bad Songs" which I began to read, in the bathroom, at five in the morning.
This book is already 10 years old. And, it reaches waaaay back for bad songs from the 60's, 70's and some 80's. It is a must read.
Does this paragraph from page 9 of the introduction not grab you?
"Why do people feel so passionate about this subject? Because music is personal. The songs we hear a lot - particularly the ones we hear when we're young - soak into our psyche, so that forever after, when we hear certain songs, we experience sudden and uncontrollable memory spasms taking us back to specific times - some good, some bad - in our lives."
I did actually go back to bed. I finished reading the book this afternoon. It can easily be read in an hour. The reading will only take an hour. This is not counting the times when your will be overtaken by extreme fits of laughter from which you will need time to recover before you resume reading.
More to come... probably in September...
Because of the ease with which I catch 'earworms' (songs that get stuck in one's head) I should avoid bad songs. I should - but I didn't.
Last night I was awakened at five by THGGM monkeying with the air-conditioner. Otherwise, I do not wake up during the night. On the floor in the bathroom I found a book "Dave Barry's Book of Bad Songs" which I began to read, in the bathroom, at five in the morning.
This book is already 10 years old. And, it reaches waaaay back for bad songs from the 60's, 70's and some 80's. It is a must read.
Does this paragraph from page 9 of the introduction not grab you?
"Why do people feel so passionate about this subject? Because music is personal. The songs we hear a lot - particularly the ones we hear when we're young - soak into our psyche, so that forever after, when we hear certain songs, we experience sudden and uncontrollable memory spasms taking us back to specific times - some good, some bad - in our lives."
I did actually go back to bed. I finished reading the book this afternoon. It can easily be read in an hour. The reading will only take an hour. This is not counting the times when your will be overtaken by extreme fits of laughter from which you will need time to recover before you resume reading.
More to come... probably in September...
Labels: reading
Friday, July 06, 2007
Moves
For the first nineteen years of my life I lived at the same address.
When THGGM and I married, we moved into a fabulous upstairs apartment in what had been an old boarding house in the city of Grandville. It had such charm. You could still see the numbers on each door.
We lived in that upstairs apartment for five years. Oldest Son and Daughter were born during those years.
When climbing an outside staircase in inclement weather while carrying two small children became cumbersome, we moved down a flight of stairs into the main floor apartment.
Moving down one flight of stairs isn't all that easy. I remember the last day upstairs, I actually stood at the top of the steps and threw things down. Oldest Son thought that was hilarious and joined in.
The downstairs of the old boarding house also had it's own charm, and the hugest kitchen I have ever seen. Youngest Son was born during the two years that we lived there.
With three preschool children in tow (one with chicken pox) we moved from the 'boarding house' into the city. Although we were moving from an apartment into a house everything about this house was smaller. But, there was a sandbox and an apple tree in the backyard, which helped. All three children happily co-existed in one tiny bedroom.
This house had just been vacated by five Calvin Seminary students. It smelled like a dorm. But, it was solidly built and we had great neighbors. Except for THGGM's grandmother who lived next door and had nary a happy thought in her entire life.
Although no one thought it would happen, THGGM's grandmother died. We were offered the opportunity to buy the house she had called home for over 40 years.
It would have been nice to know that her belongs were remaining in the house before we attempted to move in with all of ours. The only thing I loved about that house was the very large walk-in attic.
When we moved in, THGGM's mother moved into the house we moved out of. We lived there for twelve years. Although it took us only twelve minutes to know that it was not a good idea.
Twelve years of living in the bad idea took it's toll.
One night, THGGM's mother told him that we should keep a close eye on our children. Brother-in-law had incurred a drug debt he could not repay and she had been paid a visit by those he owed. Since she had previously paid out her entire retirement fund to cover a different bad drug debt, she couldn't 'help him out'.
Quite quickly after that announcement we moved into the home we are in now. It's been nearly nine years. The children are now grown and living on their own.
Today at 4:30 we closed on our 'new' house. The former owners have thirty days to move out.
I think the strangest thing will be living in a house that none of our children have called 'home'.
Now.., back to packing...
When THGGM and I married, we moved into a fabulous upstairs apartment in what had been an old boarding house in the city of Grandville. It had such charm. You could still see the numbers on each door.
We lived in that upstairs apartment for five years. Oldest Son and Daughter were born during those years.
When climbing an outside staircase in inclement weather while carrying two small children became cumbersome, we moved down a flight of stairs into the main floor apartment.
Moving down one flight of stairs isn't all that easy. I remember the last day upstairs, I actually stood at the top of the steps and threw things down. Oldest Son thought that was hilarious and joined in.
The downstairs of the old boarding house also had it's own charm, and the hugest kitchen I have ever seen. Youngest Son was born during the two years that we lived there.
With three preschool children in tow (one with chicken pox) we moved from the 'boarding house' into the city. Although we were moving from an apartment into a house everything about this house was smaller. But, there was a sandbox and an apple tree in the backyard, which helped. All three children happily co-existed in one tiny bedroom.
This house had just been vacated by five Calvin Seminary students. It smelled like a dorm. But, it was solidly built and we had great neighbors. Except for THGGM's grandmother who lived next door and had nary a happy thought in her entire life.
Although no one thought it would happen, THGGM's grandmother died. We were offered the opportunity to buy the house she had called home for over 40 years.
It would have been nice to know that her belongs were remaining in the house before we attempted to move in with all of ours. The only thing I loved about that house was the very large walk-in attic.
When we moved in, THGGM's mother moved into the house we moved out of. We lived there for twelve years. Although it took us only twelve minutes to know that it was not a good idea.
Twelve years of living in the bad idea took it's toll.
One night, THGGM's mother told him that we should keep a close eye on our children. Brother-in-law had incurred a drug debt he could not repay and she had been paid a visit by those he owed. Since she had previously paid out her entire retirement fund to cover a different bad drug debt, she couldn't 'help him out'.
Quite quickly after that announcement we moved into the home we are in now. It's been nearly nine years. The children are now grown and living on their own.
Today at 4:30 we closed on our 'new' house. The former owners have thirty days to move out.
I think the strangest thing will be living in a house that none of our children have called 'home'.
Now.., back to packing...
Labels: moving
July Days of My Past
This summer seems to be happening just outside my window. Only the heat penatrates my home.
Not so different from the summer's of my childhood.
My dad always had vacation in July. My parents NEVER just sat around. The only work ethic I knew as a child was 'get your work done, and then THEN relax'.
So, on any given summer day in July, my dad could be found working on a project. My mom's goal was to finish up her housework in the cool of the morning and then take a lawn chair and a magazine into the backyard.
I danced around this scene for most of the years of my childhood.
Our summer vacations never included 'camping'. From some accounts one would wonder how our family stayed intact without that.
That's because WE were bonding even closer in the backseat of a car as we traveled from motel to motel cross country.
I'm the youngest. I sat in the middle of the backseat.
I remember little about our destinations. It's the drive I remember.
One particular trip took us through the mountains of Pennsylvania. I remember them well.
What my dad remembers is looking for a spot to pull off so his youngest daughter could vomit.
I'm a loooong way from those days. What hasn't changed is the feeling that I'm trapped in a stuffy backseat. While other people ooooh and aaaaah over beautiful vistas I'm staring at the back of heads wonder how in the world I can get this all to stop so I can throw-up.
Not so different from the summer's of my childhood.
My dad always had vacation in July. My parents NEVER just sat around. The only work ethic I knew as a child was 'get your work done, and then THEN relax'.
So, on any given summer day in July, my dad could be found working on a project. My mom's goal was to finish up her housework in the cool of the morning and then take a lawn chair and a magazine into the backyard.
I danced around this scene for most of the years of my childhood.
Our summer vacations never included 'camping'. From some accounts one would wonder how our family stayed intact without that.
That's because WE were bonding even closer in the backseat of a car as we traveled from motel to motel cross country.
I'm the youngest. I sat in the middle of the backseat.
I remember little about our destinations. It's the drive I remember.
One particular trip took us through the mountains of Pennsylvania. I remember them well.
What my dad remembers is looking for a spot to pull off so his youngest daughter could vomit.
I'm a loooong way from those days. What hasn't changed is the feeling that I'm trapped in a stuffy backseat. While other people ooooh and aaaaah over beautiful vistas I'm staring at the back of heads wonder how in the world I can get this all to stop so I can throw-up.
Labels: memories
Thursday, July 05, 2007
May I Be Snarky?
It's my blog and I'll be snarky if I want to!
Anyway...
Much more is going on in my life than just packing, but packing is ALL I can think about.
I was wrapping up a vase while THGGM laid in repose upon the couch.
This is a lovely creamy color McCoy vase that had been his grandmother's. It has a small chip in the base, but if I keep it turned just right it never shows.
As I wrapped it in my own 'try to have the least amount of contact with the newsprint ink' way THGGM rose from his perch, took the news paper and vase away from me, and proceeded to show me in an advice giving way that my wrapping abilities are inferior.
Ah hem. This is AT LEAST the umpteenth creamy color vase I have wrapped so far. It's not like they will be shipped to Outer Mongolia or anything.
Happily, I can report that the vase still only has a small chip.
Oh, and just because I don't have enough on my mind, my cat is having 'issues'. He just is not acting like himself. Daughter thinks he is upset by all of the confusion around here (he hates to move) and loud fireworks in the neighborhood isn't helping.
My diagnosis is old age. Everyone gets it, eventually.
Yesterday we bought him new litter pans, as the old litter pan is a litter pan set in a child's wading pool (our other cat, Maggie, was NOT a neat pooper). Anyway...THGGM set the new pans down and proceded to 'show' Barb his new litter boxes. He promptly peed in one (barb, not thggm) and laid down in the other one. Barb spent the rest of the day sleeping in the new litter box.
I don't understand this at all.
Anyway...
Much more is going on in my life than just packing, but packing is ALL I can think about.
I was wrapping up a vase while THGGM laid in repose upon the couch.
This is a lovely creamy color McCoy vase that had been his grandmother's. It has a small chip in the base, but if I keep it turned just right it never shows.
As I wrapped it in my own 'try to have the least amount of contact with the newsprint ink' way THGGM rose from his perch, took the news paper and vase away from me, and proceeded to show me in an advice giving way that my wrapping abilities are inferior.
Ah hem. This is AT LEAST the umpteenth creamy color vase I have wrapped so far. It's not like they will be shipped to Outer Mongolia or anything.
Happily, I can report that the vase still only has a small chip.
Oh, and just because I don't have enough on my mind, my cat is having 'issues'. He just is not acting like himself. Daughter thinks he is upset by all of the confusion around here (he hates to move) and loud fireworks in the neighborhood isn't helping.
My diagnosis is old age. Everyone gets it, eventually.
Yesterday we bought him new litter pans, as the old litter pan is a litter pan set in a child's wading pool (our other cat, Maggie, was NOT a neat pooper). Anyway...THGGM set the new pans down and proceded to 'show' Barb his new litter boxes. He promptly peed in one (barb, not thggm) and laid down in the other one. Barb spent the rest of the day sleeping in the new litter box.
I don't understand this at all.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Happy Monday!
Baby Boy was a delight today! We did all sorts of really fun things. I haven't taken many pictures of him lately, because when he wasn't feeling well he HATED it. Today, he ASKED me to take his picture. Since I wanted a nice one of him at a year and a half, I was thrilled.
So, I sat him down on the couch and told him to say 'Cheese!'. He gave me this confused look and SIGNED cheese. Not quite the same effect.
Oh well. I like the look on his face!
Tomorrow he goes to the doctor and will get four shots.
Oh, and SIX WEEKS from today, New Baby is scheduled to make her arrival!
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Corners of My Home
Bits of This and That Racing Through My Mind...
Baby Boy is 1 1/2 years old today. My, my, time flies when you are having fun! He is now the age that his mommy was when her little brother was born. Fun times. I remember them well.
Sometimes I like poetry, sometimes I don't. I cannot figure out what the difference is. I aways like Lewis Carrol, Robert Lewis Stevenson and Doctor Seuss. I almost always like Robert Frost and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Sometimes I like a few others. But, some days I love them all!
Why is it that in stories where an alien planet is invading our world does their world seem to be one cohesive planet? Have I ever mentioned that I do not like Science Fiction at all? Someday, I will read the C.S. Lewis trilogy, but until I do I must admit I've never read any that I've liked.
I've developed a tic in my left eyelid. Could it be stress? It is annoying.
My house is one giant mess of assorted what-nots. In the beginning I labeled boxes on the top and two sides. I wrote neatly. Lately, I've been thinking of labeling all of the rest "Stuff". That's all it is, just stuff.
I have lost more cards that need mailing than I can count on one hand.
My cat has taken up sneezing. I am rather sure it is from all of the dust we have stirred up around here. Still, it is sad to see him sneeze. When he does, he looks at me, waiting for me to say 'bless you'. We are proper around here, if nothing else.
I wish I still had a car. No, I don't.! Yes, I do. Don't! Do. Oh, well. I don't, and won't. I see interesting times in my future.
You know what? I think that if I never had another idea in my life, I still would run out of time to actually DO the ideas I have already had. I am seduced by ideas. I love them. They entertain me like nothing else. If something is called an "Idea Book" I feel as if my world will not run smoothly unless I own it. I have an idea that this is not a good thing.
Why can't someone create a cardboard box with 'lego' block features? I live in constant fear that my stacks of boxes may someday come tumbling down.
I'm curious as to why our bodies do not have a built in feature to stop stress from increasing blood sugar. I do not know what to do about that. It matters not a whit what I eat, my blood sugar is high when I am stressed. Oh, I DO try to avoid it, but stress still finds me. It doesn't help that the things that stress me would not bother any normal persons at all, but me, I have the ability to stress over things others would be joyfully about. It's a burden I must bear (or, must i bare? geesh...more stress...).
Today, I jumped out of my seat to go grab a book I wanted. It isn't there. My bookshelves are empty. It's a good thing that I am still thrifting books, as I had one by the same author, and it helped to soothe my soul.
It looks as if our town has been emptied of it's occupants. Does EVERYONE go on vacation the first week of July? Where DO they go? Many of the busiest streets around here are empty.
Okay. It's time. I have to get back to putting stuff I may or may not ever want into boxes. THGGM has assured me that we will never be buying anything again for as long as we live (or, until we are 79 and our mortgage is paid off) so, I am really struggling with getting rid of things I may want.
If only I could remember what the new house is like on the inside. I only saw it once.
Now, let me bid you adieu with a smidge of Calvin Miller poetry from his "The Divine Symphony":
"I once scorned ev'ry fearful thought of death,
When it was but the end of pulse and breath,
But now my eyes have seen that past the pain
There is a world that's waiting to be claimed.
Earthmaker, Holy, let me now depart,
For living's such a temporary art.
And dying is but getting dressed for God,
Our graves are merely doorways cut in sod."
No. I am not MORBIDLY depressed. It's just the happy thought that we can't take anything with us when we die that is an entertaining idea for me at the moment!
Sometimes I like poetry, sometimes I don't. I cannot figure out what the difference is. I aways like Lewis Carrol, Robert Lewis Stevenson and Doctor Seuss. I almost always like Robert Frost and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Sometimes I like a few others. But, some days I love them all!
Why is it that in stories where an alien planet is invading our world does their world seem to be one cohesive planet? Have I ever mentioned that I do not like Science Fiction at all? Someday, I will read the C.S. Lewis trilogy, but until I do I must admit I've never read any that I've liked.
I've developed a tic in my left eyelid. Could it be stress? It is annoying.
My house is one giant mess of assorted what-nots. In the beginning I labeled boxes on the top and two sides. I wrote neatly. Lately, I've been thinking of labeling all of the rest "Stuff". That's all it is, just stuff.
I have lost more cards that need mailing than I can count on one hand.
My cat has taken up sneezing. I am rather sure it is from all of the dust we have stirred up around here. Still, it is sad to see him sneeze. When he does, he looks at me, waiting for me to say 'bless you'. We are proper around here, if nothing else.
I wish I still had a car. No, I don't.! Yes, I do. Don't! Do. Oh, well. I don't, and won't. I see interesting times in my future.
You know what? I think that if I never had another idea in my life, I still would run out of time to actually DO the ideas I have already had. I am seduced by ideas. I love them. They entertain me like nothing else. If something is called an "Idea Book" I feel as if my world will not run smoothly unless I own it. I have an idea that this is not a good thing.
Why can't someone create a cardboard box with 'lego' block features? I live in constant fear that my stacks of boxes may someday come tumbling down.
I'm curious as to why our bodies do not have a built in feature to stop stress from increasing blood sugar. I do not know what to do about that. It matters not a whit what I eat, my blood sugar is high when I am stressed. Oh, I DO try to avoid it, but stress still finds me. It doesn't help that the things that stress me would not bother any normal persons at all, but me, I have the ability to stress over things others would be joyfully about. It's a burden I must bear (or, must i bare? geesh...more stress...).
Today, I jumped out of my seat to go grab a book I wanted. It isn't there. My bookshelves are empty. It's a good thing that I am still thrifting books, as I had one by the same author, and it helped to soothe my soul.
It looks as if our town has been emptied of it's occupants. Does EVERYONE go on vacation the first week of July? Where DO they go? Many of the busiest streets around here are empty.
Okay. It's time. I have to get back to putting stuff I may or may not ever want into boxes. THGGM has assured me that we will never be buying anything again for as long as we live (or, until we are 79 and our mortgage is paid off) so, I am really struggling with getting rid of things I may want.
If only I could remember what the new house is like on the inside. I only saw it once.
Now, let me bid you adieu with a smidge of Calvin Miller poetry from his "The Divine Symphony":
"I once scorned ev'ry fearful thought of death,
When it was but the end of pulse and breath,
But now my eyes have seen that past the pain
There is a world that's waiting to be claimed.
Earthmaker, Holy, let me now depart,
For living's such a temporary art.
And dying is but getting dressed for God,
Our graves are merely doorways cut in sod."
No. I am not MORBIDLY depressed. It's just the happy thought that we can't take anything with us when we die that is an entertaining idea for me at the moment!
Labels: my corner
