Brilliance With Beej

The Dangers of Confined Spaces

2011-07-04T14:39:00.004-05:00

During my days at the sewer (which I am missing terribly by the way) I learned about the dangers of confined spaces. Terrible things can happen to a person who doesn't take proper precautions before entering a place that is so small that it might contain toxic fumes or is oxygen deficient. Friday, I entered a confined space and I'm here to tell you that there is more danger than just lack of oxygen. There is a possibility that you might hurt yourself or the other three people that are living in the confined space with you. You could hurt them because you can't get from the couch to the kitchen (2 steps) without stepping on them. You could hurt yourself by tripping over the shoes they left in the 2 inches of floor space available or falling over the mountain of blankets and pillows that are laying around because two of them are sleeping on the couches. You could hurt them mentally by yelling at them for all of the above and just because you are in a fantastically bad mood. Litkia is especially unhappy about the lack of snack food available, but I don't think she realizes that this can't be blamed on the tiny apartment. However, there is a distinct possibility that leaving this place in order to replenish the stash might lessen the danger here.

Box Fan

2011-06-18T15:20:00.005-05:00

The fan in the hallway struggles to bring some relief from the heat and lack of A/C in the building. The drone of the motor sends me back to a house that I once lived in. I'm not sure if it was in Wagarville or in McComb because I get those two houses mixed up in my memories. It was on an extremely early morning that my five or six year old mind could not compare with any other morning in my short life. I'm not sure I had ever really experienced that time of the morning before. There was so much darkness at the windows, and it was a weird darkness. It wasn't the same shade of darkness that happens when you go to bed or wake up in the night. Why do I think the air felt damp? Do I remember hearing crickets? Maybe not, we were inside the house. I was so sleepy. There was packing and hushed movements and this noise that I didn't recognize. There it was. In the hallway. Something different. It was a very large box fan, as tall as me and much wider. It was loud and it was so big that when I passed by it I dare not get too close for fear that my arm would be sucked in and chopped to pieces. It was obviously a real fear because mama held my hand tighter when we passed by it. Or maybe it was me that was doing the extra squeezing. I don't know where we were going or why my parents had the fan in the hall, but I cannot hear a box fan without thinking of that morning.

Not right and Fruity too

2011-04-26T10:02:00.003-05:00

My supervisor type person was at my desk today and while he was standing there, he reached for my pencil cup full of magic markers. One by one, he picked them up, removed the top and took a whiff. Mostly he made faces afterward, but it reminded me of my childhood, sitting in training union at church and getting excited when that very cool box of scented magic markers was pulled from the cabinet. The yellow one smelled like lemons, the orange one smelled like oranges and the purple one smelled like grapes (my personal favorite). Some of the fruity scents were more realistic than others, but to resist smelling each and every one was futile. So anyway, I was watching my fearless leader smelling these markers, looking for one with a scent when he suddenly stuck one out for me to smell with a smile on his face. Once it got close to my nose, I realized that searching for a childhood memory wasn’t what he was doing at all. He was trying to get high.

That ain’t right.

My Mama Would Say You Were Wrong

2011-04-19T09:19:00.002-05:00

My Mama always told me that if you’re about to make a negative comment about something a person couldn’t do anything about, you should just keep your trap shut. For example, if your friend has spinach in their teeth or toilet paper hanging off their shoe, by all means, let them know politely. Although the initial sharing of the information might be a little embarrassing, the end result is positive. If, however, a person has a scar on their cheek in the shape of a lightning bolt, you should hold your tongue. Nothing can be done about that. Since my unfortunate run-in with a deer, resulting in the destruction of my Barbie Jeep, I don’t have a lot of love for woodland creatures, but even Thumper’s mama told him that if he couldn’t say something nice, he shouldn’t say anything at all. Having said all that, when I tell you I’m moving and you ask me where I’m going, my answer will be Beaumont, Texas. The correct response to this information should not include you scrunching up your nose like you smell something bad, or interjections of “ugh” or “oh man, that’s too bad”.

I might be able to understand the reaction more, if I thought you really believed that Saraland, Alabama is the land flowing with milk and honey, but the truth is, I don’t think you believe that at all. I think you’re just mean.

One out of One Hundred Twenty Five

2010-09-15T16:53:00.002-05:00

The other day at my new job, I was handed a three-ring binder that contained 125 pages. I was told to read it. It was for my own good. I know it’s important because it looks very official and the title is “MAWSS Safety Rules Handbook”. I have to admit that it doesn’t seem much like a HANDBOOK. To me, a handbook speaks of a much smaller thing. You know? Something a little less bulky. Something you might be able to carry in your pocket or stuff into your purse. At any rate, I opened the tome and began reading the letter in the front that told me that I was important enough that they wanted to keep me safe. Just like a mama might do. Then on the 2nd page, also like a mama, there was a little lecture about there being no such thing as fate and that accidents were avoidable. There were some general safety rules on pages 3 through 7, but after that I got pretty confused. I trudged on though, since it was my very safety at stake! I’m happy to say that I’m sure I’ll be safe if I ever find myself welding, using an axe, a hatchet or a concrete mixer. I now know the standard hand signals for overhead, crawler, locomotive and truck boom cranes. The only thing I can’t figure out is what any of those things are. But, no fear! If I can figure out which is which, I can signal them properly and avoid danger!

When I got to page 114, the title made me smile. “Office Safety” is what it said. Now, THAT was something that seemed familiar. And I must say that number 7 made me shake my head in agreement. “Do not lick envelopes; their edges may cut your tongue.”

I knooooow, right?

We HATES them

2010-06-10T14:16:00.001-05:00

I try pretty hard to be a nice person. Well, at least I try pretty hard NOT to be a mean person. But right now I'm am thinking along the lines of murder. Let me explain.

I planted a pretend garden this year, all in pots. I started with tomatoes and have since added some squash and zucchini and even some beans! It's fun. I'm feeling my green thumbs and I like it. I love going out every morning and seeing the progress. I get so excited to see my tomatoes getting bigger and a few days ago, to see the first one getting a little pink. I could easily imagine the day I would be able to pick it and make a tomato sandwich with my first home grown tomato. I could almost taste it.

BUT...and you KNEW there was going to be a BUT in here, I went out yesterday to check on my precious tomato's progress and guess where it was? In the mouth of my dog, being chewed in a very irreverent manner. After squirting him with the water hose and telling him off, nearly through tears, I inspected the plants and found a slightly chewed green tomato still hanging on the plant, intact with teeth marks. Squirrels. It's squirrels. There are droves of them here and I feel very outnumbered. The dog was probably not the one who swiped it, but he sure took pleasure in finishing off the job begun by the giant rats with bushy tails. We hates them.

And today, we hates them even more. Two more tomatoes GONE. I'm so sad. I'm so injured. They have robbed me of the joy of the harvest and I will have to kill them all. I don't really want them to suffer, but I do want them dead. And, after their demise I plan to hang them up along the fence by their evil fuzzy tails, one after the other, as a warning to their neighbors and friends that this is not the yard they want to hang around. And what about this "dog" of mine? What kind of dog allows such behavior right under his nose in his very own backyard? My dog. That's who. I realize that he's getting old, but I just can't feel like making excuses for him. I will allow him to live, but buddy, he has been TOLD. He better step up the guard dog duties and quit taking bribes or I'm sending him to a place where they won't let him sleep inside in a cool laundry room at night.

We hates them.

This is the dog I have. A dog of leisure.

The is the dog I need. Squirrel killer extraordinaire.

Bats in the Belfry

2010-05-27T12:19:00.002-05:00

I was flipping through a Plow and Hearth catalogue and came across a Bat House. This catalogue is just chock-full of interesting and mostly useless information. According to them, a single bat consumes up to 3,000 insects every night. Now in LA (Lower Alabama) I’ve seen mosquitoes grow to be 5” long and weigh up to half a pound. I’m sure you don’t believe that, but I know it to be true. I'm also pretty sure that my backyard is the playground for at least 3,000 of these monsters and probably more. Anyway, this bat house will hold approximately 20 bats, so for $39.95 plus shipping and handling, I feel sure my back yard mosquito problem could be solved. The only draw back is that I just don't love bats. There doesn't seem to be anything even remotely appealing about them. They are leathery, toothy, hairy and scary. I’m terrified of a bat flying too close to my head because when I was about 8 or so, my friend told me that I better watch out, because she heard they had been known to swoop down pretty low and could accidentally get caught in a person's hair. Unfortunately, she told me this on the night we were standing outside at dusk, watching a group of bats catching their dinner and even more unfortunately, I had a lot of long hair. I was afraid. I wasn’t paralyzed with fear however, because I took immediate action by zigzagging my way back to the house with my head bent down and my arms covering my hair. Everybody knows a moving target is harder to hit. My target was the front door. I imagined sitting at the kitchen table while my Mom used the "good hair cutting scissors" to extricate this writhing bat from my long hair as it dug its claws into my scalp. Maybe I’ll just stick with the Citronella candles.

p.s. Please don't ask me why I have a Plow and Hearth catalogue because I have no idea. Also, it is of interest that I found out that chock-full is a hyphenated word and that the word "catalogue" can also be spelled "catalog", but apparently only within the confines of the borders of the USA. You learn something new every day.

Cows are not my friend

2010-05-11T21:01:00.005-05:00

So, my long lost friend at the magic website posted a picture of a cow today (*shudder*). It reminded me of a fishing trip long, long ago, when my Daddy took me to a catfish pond at feeding time, handed me a cane pole and let me throw in my line. Immediate success is what happened, and it happened over and over again. That ruined me for fishing from that day forward. Any time I had to sit and wait more than a minute or so for the little cork to get pulled under, I was underwhelmed. It wasn't fun sitting in the hot sun, getting nibbled by bugs, if you couldn't pull in a fish every minute or so. Although this picture is not me, but my daughter, it is a dadgum close duplicate of that day including Daddy in the background.

Anyway, the cow. The cow picture reminded me of how much I dislike cows. On my way through the pasture, going to that pond, I had to watch my step. What I witnessed that day was simply horrific. I figured that those huge piles of manure could only come from a monstrous sized beast and sure enough when I got close enough to one, all I could think about was getting away from it. I'm not sure what I thought it might do to me. Bite me? Step on me? Fall on me? I had heard the words "cow tipping" at some point in my young life. Could they actually tip over and FALL on you? They were HUGE. You would surely perish. Cows were obviously a menace.

Although I do love a steak or a really good hamburger, I simply haven't liked the live-type cows since that day. If we are driving and pass a pasture full of cows, I just try not to look. My friend at the magic website assures me that cows are friendly and she even feeds them by hand. I think that's ludicrous. I told her I was pretty sure that cows eat people. She denied it. I'm personally not getting close enough to find out.

Fez, Fedora, Sombrero, Chapeau

2010-04-18T21:39:00.004-05:00

Today at lunch, my mama told my children that when I was a toddler I loved to put stuff on my head. Milk, for example. I don't remember this being the case, but they got a big kick out of the revelation. I'm sure the pouring of the milk over my head was VERY early on. I'm also certain that I would have learned after the first time not to do it again, but mama says I did it more than once. But milk was not really what she was talking about. It was hat-type objects. I am impressed indeed by the number of pictures in the old albums where I actually AM sporting something on my head. A pot. A colander. A bonnet. She could be telling the truth. And even now, I have the deep desire to be a hat wearer. I always, always want to try on the fancy hats at Dillard's, but my mama told me long ago that you just never have any idea WHO might have put that on their head before you and I'm just too scared. In my weakest moments, when I give in and do it anyway, I'm always very disappointed because it turns out that I just don't look good in a hat. Maybe when I'm old and feeble and don't care what anybody thinks anymore, I'll just go around wearing a hat all the time. Like those ladies in the red hat society. Now THAT is just....not right. First of all purple and red don't go together. I don't care how old you are, they just don't. Secondly, some of those get-ups...don't get me started. My mama joined this little club at some point last year and after I heard some of the stories about the official rules concerning the wearing of flowers versus hats and some of the nit picky yuck that they were spouting, I told my mama that life was too precious to be hanging around such evil old women and gave her my blessing to quit it post haste. No, I won't be a red hat society lady in my old age, but I think I will wear hats. Just because. I won't be the cat lady. I'll be the hat lady.

But then again, my mother could have been talking about my sister. She did introduce me the other day as her daughter "sister's name". And she called me that same name today when we were together. I don't care. I'm still wearing hats.

Disclaimer: No members of the red hat society were harmed during the writing of this blog post. If you are offended in any way by the writer's blatant dislike of the red hat society, she apologizes profusely and indicates here that she harbors no ill will toward those wearing red and purple together, but would never do it herself. Please keep your arms, legs, hands, feet and head inside the blog at all times and exit to the right when the blog is over. Thank you.

New House!

2010-03-26T10:08:00.004-05:00

I discovered something horrible this morning as I was straightening up the den. I leaned down to pick up a CD that was on the floor in front of the entertainment center and this is what I saw:

In my defense, I have to say that this particular area is one that I spend NO time in. I don't watch TV or play video games and I can't even work the danged DVD player. The only reason I even SAW this message was because I was CLEANING UP. But, I admit that I have become immune to dust. I can't even SEE it anymore unless somebody writes me a message in it. I guess as the kids got big enough not to relieve their teething pain by chewing the furniture and understood that eating things off the floor wasn't a great idea, I slowly starting putting on my blinders. Now that my work load has decreased drastically, I'm seeing things all over this house that need my desperate attention. My floors are kind of gross. My walls need repainting. And just recently, Dirty Larry bought a new piece of luggage big enough to house two small people and I have no where to put it. It doesn't fit anywhere but right in the center of any given room, and that's where it has been for the last week or so.

So, I guess what I'm saying is... This house is dirty and needs work, plus we have new luggage so logically, we need a new house....you know....to house the luggage. A clean house to house the luggage.

Right.

Also. Not really.

Concentrating on asphalt

2010-03-21T21:42:00.005-05:00

In my present situation, I find myself on the verge of tears nearly all the time. I've always been one to cry easily, just because it feels good, but lately, I'm having an even harder time controlling it than usual. I've never felt the effects of a big change so deeply before. A blog friend, JFZ, wrote a note at the magic website yesterday. Go read it here. It speaks to me of looking on the bright side. Being happy for the little things even when the big things are looming. Taking what could be a bad thing and turning it into something good. Then at church this morning, I heard the guest speaker talk to me about happiness. He used an illustration about teaching his daughter to ride a bike. She had a huge parking lot to practice on. Smooth acres of asphalt. He told her that she was so lucky to have this smooth surface and that when he was learning, he had nothing but gravel. But she pointed to the edge of the parking lot and brought to his attention, a pole. He told her not to worry about that pole, that she had this whole huge parking lot to ride in! She was insistent that the pole was a problem and he was insistent that it wasn't. Long story short, she ran into the pole. She said, "I TOLD you I was going to hit it!" He said, "That's because you were FOCUSING on the pole!" I'm here to tell you that your friend Beej is a pole hitter. I desperately want to be more diligently focused on the asphalt. God is so good to me, especially when I consider how very undeserving I am. I need to try harder to find the joy.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2010-03-16T09:29:00.002-05:00

The Beej suddenly finds herself with lots of time on her hands. How quickly things can change. My normally secure and totally fulfilling (cough...hack) job seems to be not so secure at the moment. Change happens. I'm pretty certain that I still have a job, it's just less of the same job, which means less money and less ability for me to continue unless I supplement my income elsewhere. In my line of work, it should be relatively easy to just go out and find another account to replace what will be missing, but the bottom line truth is that I just don't want to. I'm very tired of this corner where I have been sitting for 11 years, smashed against the closet door, typing away and letting the government take a whopping chunk of my profit because I am self employed. This job served a noble purpose. I have been able to stay home with my kids. I am thankful...and so ready to move on. So, I will search the highways and byways and I will seek the next thing (while holding on to this thing I still have as long as possible). This could be exciting or scary. I'm hoping that exciting wins that contest.

Luckily, I can do anything.

Seriously.

Foul! Foul! I call FOUL!!

2010-02-27T19:07:00.005-06:00

I just need to talk about Scrabble. What better audience than this one? (probably literally one)

So there is this person. I will not name any names but their initials are T.H.E.D.E.V.I.L. We have played Scrabble together for quite some time. We had a little hiatus when this person was away from the desk for a couple of months, but when they returned, I started a fresh list, showing who won and who lost each and every game. It was important to me because I am insane and I needed to win more than I lost and the obsessive/compulsive portion of my brain needed desperately to keep a record separate from my other Scrabble opponents. I'm posting a picture here of my little list, started on an Amitiza note pad, which, by the way was free, given to me by a friendly drug rep.
When the first page got full, I taped another page to it. If you can tell at all, down at about the 16th game, when the score was 12 to 4 in my favor, T.H.E.D.E.V.I.L. started naming the games with the score, but started at 7 to 0. Beej 7 and T.H.E.D.E.V.I.L. 0. What the what?? No, no, no. I don't think so. I told this person that was incorrect. They did not care about my thoughts in the least. I was mortified and still am.

All of this was to say that I need to add a new page to my list, but the more I think about it, the more I think I should just bow out gracefully. It's making me mean and angry. I don't think I'm normally a mean and angry person. On the other hand, maybe it's building character. But hey, I feel like I have plenty of character without being called a heifer or being forced to look at a score that I know in my heart of hearts is just baloney. Madness!

"What to do? What to do?" she said as she taped another page to the bottom of the list and started drawing lines. I'll guess I'll just go ahead and fill in this next line with the name of the new game T.H.E.D.E.V.I.L. just started. "Gonna Catch Up 15-11" (my big fat hiney! it's 21-14!).

(Click the pic for a big version. I did erase some stuff to keep the identity of T.H.E.D.E.V.I.L. a secret.)

February Miracles in the Deep Deep South

2010-02-14T20:12:00.006-06:00

The south was laughed at this week. People looked to us and snickered about how pathetic it is to shut down everything for a little snow. I'm aware that nearly every state north of me (there are none south of me) sees snow on occasion and may even find it annoying or mundane. I get it. But realize that we don't even own winter coats down here. There is just no need. How do you drive when there is ice on the road? We have no idea. Why? Because it NEVER gets cold enough for any ice to form on our roads. Again, there is just no need for snow chains or lessons about wintry road conditions.

But let me tell you MY side. Friday morning I got to see my children's faces light up as they saw the very first snow they have ever seen in their lives. I got to walk out in it with them and experience it with them. It was nothing less than pure magic. We got nearly NO accumulation. There were no snowmen, no snow angels and no snow ice cream. It didn't last but a few hours, but those few hours were miraculous and beautiful and memorable. I have experienced snow only two other times in my 43 years. Once in high school in Pearl, Mississippi and once before I had kids in Meridian, Mississippi. Seeing it fall with my kids was like introducing them to an old friend. Point and laugh if you must, but also be aware that something mysterious and otherworldly happened here on Friday. No, they can't take that away from me.

Stuff my Kids say #3

2010-01-10T14:51:00.004-06:00

Litkia: (In a very excited voice with a big smile) That was SO COOL!

I told them to wait. I told them not to fool with it. I told them over and over to just give me a second and we'd go outside, but they just would NOT leave it alone. I'm talking about the 2 liter diet coke, 7 piece Mentos debacle of January 2010.

Pateriko got a special little apparatus for launching the festivities in his stocking for Christmas. I blame myself. It was just a plastic tube to load the Mentos and a string to pull when you were ready to release the candy into the coke and watch the explosion. They couldn't stay away from it. Litkia pulled the string totally by accident while we were still in the kitchen. The spewing began. She grabbed the coke and ran. Why? I have no idea. But, she ran to the den with it, spewing the carpet and the clean clothes on the couch and the piano and the wall and then, in some more panic, she decided that was the wrong move and ran BACK into the kitchen and did a few more circles with it, spewing everything in THERE until it finally died down. We all just stood there dumbstruck, wiping the dripping diet coke off of our faces. The kids were silent. Litkia looked tortured. I stayed VERY quiet because I knew whatever came out of my mouth next would be so memorable to these kids. For some reason I had enough sense about me to want it to be positive. When I finally gained control of myself, I asked Litkia, in a concerned and quiet voice, "Are you freaked out?" Her response? "That was SO COOL!!" And please don't tell anybody I said this, but..... it was.

Stuff my kids say #2

2010-01-01T12:23:00.004-06:00

As background information for you, Pensacola, Florida is quite close to us and one of our news channels is based out of that area. To celebrate the new year in New York, they watch the ball drop. In Mobile, we watch the moon pie drop. In Pensacola, it's a pelican.

Litkia: We're going to stay up and watch the pelican drop.
Beej: Fine by me. Let me know how that works out.
Moments after midnight:
Beej: Well? Did you see it drop?
Litkia: (in a very disappointed voice) Yes. And it didn't even break!
Beej: Did you think it was going to?
Pateriko: We both did.

Where have I gone wrong?

Stuff my kids say #1

2009-12-22T18:58:00.003-06:00

Dirty Larry comes out in his nearly floor length black leather coat.

Pateriko: Dad, you look like Morpheus.
Dirty Larry: Why can't I be Neo?
Litkia: Morpheus is cool. Neo is a whiney-butt.

That's not right.

2009-12-17T22:32:00.003-06:00

My friend and I went to dinner the other night and when we returned home, she noticed a large Styrofoam package under the tree that wasn't there when we left. Apparently, a delivery was made while we were gone. I picked it up and realized that it was the steaks that my sister sent to Dirty Larry for his Christmas present. Now, Dirty Larry couldn't have known that there were steaks inside the package, but it WAS labeled in big red letters "HIGHLY PERISHABLE - REFRIGERATE IMMEDIATELY". I asked him what part of high perishable made him want to put it under the tree, but he didn't answer me.

I went ahead and opened the box. I feel like the packaging might have cost more than the meat inside. What a fancy, huge Styrofoam box! My friend immediately asked what I was going to do with it and I told her I was tossing it. She was indignant and begged to take it home with her, which I certainly didn't mind. I have no idea what she'll do with it, but it seemed very important to her that it NOT be thrown away. Also inside this box was a bag of dry ice, the obvious source of refrigeration for shipping. I put the bag into the sink and noticed the words "DO NOT TOUCH! CAN CAUSE BURNS!" I left the kitchen after that, but later realized that Dirty Larry and Litkia hadn't followed me out. I kept hearing them giggling and laughing in there and I finally couldn't stand it anymore and went to see what was so funny. They were poking holes in the bag and adding water, making smoke and watching it boil away. THERE'S a great parenting picture for you. When I walked in, they were both smiling and laughing until they looked up and saw me. Dirty Larry sheepishly said, "Look! The whole kitchen is full of smoke!" I ordered them out.

I have no idea what these steaks are going to taste like but I'll have you know that the gift was MUCH more than the steaks. Even the packaging brought Christmas joy to all and nobody was injured. It's a Christmas miracle.

Perhaps a bell this time?

2009-12-05T13:51:00.005-06:00

I am a fan of being creative. I love to MAKE stuff. I like to sew, embroider, needlepoint and crochet. I like painting and drawing although I'm not so talented in those areas. I like using my hands to produce something and then looking at it later and saying, "I did that. I must be very smart." Or even better, showing YOU what I did and letting YOU say, "You did that? You are very smart!"

I believe I got this illness from my mother. She was always sewing something or making a huge embroidered wall hanging full of color and crazy chain stitches and whipped stitches and french knots. And for Christmas, my sisters and I always got something under the tree that was crafty. Almost always, we got a beaded doll kit. Those dolls lined a shelf in the den with their chenille pipe cleaner arms and their sequined, beaded dresses and increased in number by the year. If it wasn't that, it was a loom on which to weave potholders or a kit to make jewelry or pom-pom animals with little googly eyes.

I'm foggy about the exact year, but I think I was about 7 years old when my mother did something new and different. She made a stained glass candle holder, only it wasn't glass, it was made of tiny, melted, clear, colored, plastic pellets of some kind. I will never forget the smell, but likewise, I will never forget the resulting product. It was the shape of a cathedral window and the picture that she formed in the window was Mary, kneeling. The air around her head was a clear midnight blue and the cloth on her head was white. The dress she was wearing was the most amazing color of blue I have ever had the pleasure to drink in with my eyes. The candle was placed behind the window so the light shining through made it even more amazing to look at. I loved that thing with all my heart and I would watch that candle flicker behind the mother of Jesus as long as I was allowed. I don't remember the year it was retired from our Christmas decorating, but I do remember that it was broken and I was so sad when I saw it tossed into the garbage as if it was old and dirty and not made of pure unadulterated goodness and light like I knew to be so.

About 13 years ago, I was in an antique store and I came across an iron, stained glass Christmas tree candle holder. Although it was mostly all wrong in appearance, it tugged strongly at my heartstrings and I had to buy it. It was a symbol of something I had long ago lost. I was very excited and it held an important place in my Christmas decorating. Two years later, I had a garage sale. My neighbor asked if she could place some things in my sale and I told her that she was welcome. She came over with a pile of stuff and amongst it was an iron, stained glass wreath that was absolutely the brother of my tree. I bought her trash and made it my treasure.

Since then, I have acquired four other relatives of the tree, including the tree's twin brother. You may find this to be excessive. It may be. But dear gussy, it makes me happy. And don't think for a second that when I saw another vintage, 1970, iron, stained glass candle holder on eBay this afternoon, I didn't bid immediately. I know Mary Poppins says that enough is as good as a feast, but I tend more toward the more the merrier.

Braces and Brothers

2009-11-17T19:16:00.007-06:00

Litkia got her braces today. She was very brave and didn't do a lot of complaining until a few hours after the visit to the orthodontist. Luckily, we were told that this would be the case and the Advil was handy. She pointed to the place in her mouth that was most uncomfortable and told me that she thought the bracket on that particular tooth was too low. I told her that I felt like the orthodontist knew what he was doing when he put it there. She apparently thought about it for a while and came back to tell me that maybe I was right and possibly the bracket was low for a reason. She explained her revelation like this:

You know when you're pushing somebody in a swing and you push them by the head, they just fall out on the ground? But when you push them lower their whole body moves with the swing. They are probably just trying to get my whole tooth to move instead of making it just fall over.

This was good logic, but I seriously had a hard time getting past the part about her pushing somebody out of a swing by their head. How does she know the physics of toppling someone out of a swing by their head unless she's done it herself? Well, the obvious answer to that question is that someone has done it to her. I'll give you three guesses who might have done such a thing. Better yet, I'll just tell you it was Pateriko. He denies it vehemently but I don't believe him for one second.

It takes quite a bit of badgering to get Litkia to react. If she ever really yells, I know that whatever has been happening has gone way past the point of good natured pestering. I keep thinking it's a good thing she doesn't hold a grudge easily or the piles and piles of wrongs that have been done to her by her brother would have long ago come around to haunt him. But, having said that, I won't be surprised when it does. (Nor will I let it bother me in the least.)

Things that I haven't forgotten

2009-11-05T21:45:00.007-06:00

Today I present a list of things that grownups said or directly told me when I was younger, that have somehow stuck in my brain. I'm not saying they were important things, or even helpful things. I'm just saying I remember them.

1. "When your grandfather and I owned a grocery store early in our marriage, I used to steal half dollars from the register and put them in my shoes so I'd have spending money. Your grandfather was stingy with his money." Paternal grandmother

2. "If you swallow watermelon seeds you'll grow watermelons out your ears." Maternal grandfather

3. "One day you'll learn." "One day you'll understand." and other variations on this same theme. Daddy (and he was right).

4. "Girls do NOT call boys". Guess who said that.

5. "I couldn't see the words", was my paternal grandfather's response, when my Daddy asked him why he wasn't singing the hymns in church. It made me very sad because I was the one holding the hymnal too low.

6. My maternal grandmother reacted to everything with the words, "Dear Gussy". My older sister says that all the time now. Makes me smile.

7. "If you haven't seen a little slip by now, it's high time you did." High school choral director, speaking to a male member of the choir who was pointing out that someone's slip was showing to another male member of the choir.

8. "This is the tiniest record player in the word (holds up thumb and index finger together and rubs them together) playing 'my heart bleeds peanut butter for you'." Ronnie McCall

9. "My Aunt Minnie, she died last night. She died a right way and she died a wrong way." This is a very long story and I never DID figure out this stupid game that Jay Hollowell was trying to play with me.

10. "We're healing". Overheard because the adult that said it knew I was within earshot and wanted me to hear it and to take it back to my parents (more than likely)...which I did.

11. "I don't mind giving shots, but I won't let anybody give me one. That scares me to death." This was said by the nurse who just given me a vaccination. Ruth Ruffin.

12. "Feel these!" Aunt Betty after having reconstructive breast surgery due to a mastectomy for breast cancer. I was horrified.

13. "I'll tell you when it's time to worry." Mother told me this all the time. Apparently I was a worry-wart. She only told me that it was time to worry ONCE. She was right about that.

14. "Will you bring me a lock of your hair the next time you get it cut?" I had no idea at the time how creepy that was coming from the Dad of a friend of mine. I was a child. I did it. I found out recently that he still has it. Ick.

15. "THREE LICKS" Said to me by my junior high principal as he stuck out three fingers toward me. He saw me toss a pencil to the person sitting in the desk behind me and used me as an example for the class. I didn't get the licks, but he sufficiently scared me into never throwing ANYTHING again.

I know this was pretty random. But hey, it's me. That's what I do.

That is all.

All Hallows Eve

2009-10-28T22:19:00.018-05:00

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a land called Mississippi State University, there was a group of kids who decided to have a haunted house at their dorm. The Beej was part of this group and she thoroughly enjoyed being involved in such an undertaking, and took her part very seriously.

Okay, no more third person stuff. Too hard.

So, I was ready for this haunted house, because I had always been the type of kid who would put on a sheet and make my face look horrible and pale (-er than usual) and scare the kids in the neighborhood who came by to trick-or-treat. When I was in grade school, I had a friend with an older brother who scared the devil out of me EVERY STINKING Halloween, by sitting on the porch, very still, dressed as scarecrow. As soon as I got close to the door, he would jump up and run toward me in an effort to KILL ME DEAD and I would run away screaming and begging for my life. I never forgot that and decided that every kid in my neighborhood should suffer the same fate. I was just passing along the joy, you know?

Anyway, this particular Halloween at MSU was no different than usual, except that I was getting to try to scare people on a larger scale. (This part of the story doesn't have a good ending by the way.) I remember vividly, getting ready for the festivities that night, looking in the mirror and painting my face to look like a skeleton, when the phone rang. It was my Daddy. I was still looking at my ghoulish face in the mirror when he told me that my Grandfather, his Dad, had just died. I will never forget the feeling of looking at myself in that moment, playing around with the idea of death, and suddenly realizing how very NOT FUN it was. I went on with my part in the haunted house, but that was a very hard night for me.

I never wanted to deprive my kids of Halloween, but I would never let them dress as anything scary. Luckily, they never really wanted to. I'm glad I didn't eschew it completely like I thought I would that night, but I can promise you I never looked at it the same way again. This year, Litkia will be some strange version of the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland and Pateriko will help his grandmother man a booth at the church's fall festival with the sleeves that make him look like his arm is tattooed. I'm good with that.

As always...click the pics for a bigger version!

Phood Phor thot

2009-10-13T10:01:00.004-05:00

Since yesterday was a holiday, my kids didn't have to go to school. That's always a happy time, especially when it's pouring rain outside (not that my children enjoy the great outdoors all that much, but you know...). There is usually quite a lot of whining about being bored and bugging me as I sit at my desk, working away and trying to tune them out. It can be exhausting.

I'm sure it can't be a reflection of me as a mother that I forget to feed them when they're here. I think it's just more of a habit. I'm in the habit of not feeding them lunch during the week because they aren't here. So when they're here, I sort of forget that I should see about getting them some lunch. Pateriko is pretty good about fending for himself. That doesn't help the situation. I just assume somewhere internally that all is well. However, yesterday, around 1:00 PM, a paper airplane landed on my desk. I turned around, but nobody was there. Upon further inspection, I found that the plane carried a message written in Litkia's handwriting and in her normal incorrect spelling. The plane said:

I would like to pause here to say that hungery should be a word. If adding a 'y' to the end of a word means 'having', then why can't we say hungery? That would mean having hunger. It's legit. She is as brilliant as her mother. And while I'm on that train of thought, I think that there are many hundreds, nay thousands of words that should be considered legit that we mock and say are incorrect. I also think that if we can say PH makes the same sound as F or that the letter E or the letter A can make 74 different sounds based on what's around them, we can do whatever we want. I've often thought that English is just a mixed up mess anyhow.

So anyway, the kids got fed and all was well. Again, I don't think it's a reflection on my status as a good mother that I had Pateriko make a box of mac and cheese to feed himself and his sister. I think it's just good parenting that I'm teaching him to cook....only I wasn't in there. Still counts.

I think.

For shame, for shame...

2009-09-28T09:25:00.008-05:00

If you pass by my house on foot or on your bike, or if you drive into my driveway in your car and check my meter, or if you come to my front door to visit, there's a very real possibility that my dog, who will be in the back yard, may start talking to you. And of course by talking to you, I mean barking incessantly and in the very most obnoxious way until you want to throw something at him. I'm not sure what he'll be telling you. It could be any number of things. For example "Hello person! I don't think I've made your acquaintance. How are you today? Do you have a tennis ball handy?" or maybe "Please go away kind sir, you do not belong here and I may have to do you bodily harm if you get any closer." I have no idea what he's saying because he is a dog and I do not speak dog. When the mailman comes, I'm pretty sure he's saying "Mail's here! Mail's here! Mail's here!" and when he sees a squirrel, I think he's saying "It's a squirrel! Squirrel! Hey! A squirrel!" Those are the only two that I think I understand for sure. At any rate, my promise to you, friend, is that he will bark.

What my dog will NOT do, however, is jump on you. If you are walking on the street, my dog will not come racing out to you and try to eat you because he will be locked up behind a gate. I have been frightened by too many dogs to ever allow my dog to scare you or your children when you're out for a walk or a bike ride. If I invite you into my home, my dog will not jump up on you and try to lick your face off due to extreme happiness at your presence because he will either be shut up in the laundry room or again, in the back yard, safely behind a closed door. If you venture into the back yard, I can't help you there. I will however, warn you of the dangers of dirty dog paws on your good pants if you choose to go out there, but I will STILL do my dead level best to keep him away from you.

I know you think your dog is sweet and would never hurt a fly and that he's only a puppy (even though he seems a lot like a horse to me) and that he would never bite (even if his bark sounds pretty harsh). The problem is that I am completely unaware of any of those things about your dog, and when he comes flying off your front porch at me growling, showing his teeth and acting like I'm lunch, it scares me. Heck, when he comes flying off the porch towards me and doesn't bark or show his teeth it scares me. Shame on you for letting him scare me. Shame on you for letting him run the neighborhood chasing me on my bike while I scream and worry about him nipping my ankles. Do you know how stupid I look when that happens? It's humiliating. Shame on you for making it difficult for me to have fun with my family in my own neighborhood. Shame on you for not honoring the leash laws of this city.

What you do in your own home is your own concern. If you let your dogs jump on the company, that's completely up to you. It's your house. I can't make you do any different, and if I don't like it I suppose I can steer clear. But please, let me be outside minding my own business without your dog interfering. Kthx.

A Little Princess

2009-09-21T08:24:00.003-05:00

You may already know that I got a spiffy new iPhone not too long ago. I have since downloaded and deleted many interesting applications for said phone. One of the happier ones that managed to withstand my furious deletion was BeamItDown iFLOW Reader. The version I got was free and the books that came with it were all children's classics. Of course, there are plenty of books to buy, which I'm sure I'll never do, but in the meantime, I'm reading all these children's books while I wait to see the doctor or wait in the car for the kids to come out of wherever they are. I've finished "The Secret Garden" and "Aesop's Fables". Last night I finished "A Little Princess". I have to admit that it smacked a lot of "The Secret Garden", but they were both written by the same person, so maybe that's why.

At any rate, I just need to talk about it. That sweet little precious love of a girl behaved so beautifully through her adversity that it made my heart twist up in a knot. She was so strong and kind and amazingly in control of her little emotions. I am fully aware that her behavior was the key to everything working out in the end. However, I just have to admit that I kept hoping that she'd just haul off and kick that horrible old Miss Minchin right in the shin. I really wanted her to eat ALL SIX of the hot buns instead of giving FIVE of them to one hungry, little, dirty member of the populace, leaving only ONE for her own starving self. I wished for her to smack that hateful Lavinia right in the mouth for once, but she never did. I know the author was trying to make a point. I get it. But sheesh. Thank heavens this book was written for children and these lessons were lessons that children should apply to their lives. I figure if she wanted somebody as old as me to learn something she would have named it "A BIG Princess".

Comforting Cornbread

2009-09-14T10:00:00.002-05:00

Let’s talk about cornbread.

I love cornbread. Alottabit. Cornbread is one of those things that I can cook and actually cook well. When I make cornbread, the smoke alarm never goes off like when I make cookies, because somehow, cornbread is more important than cookies. I very rarely ever get it wrong anymore. It’s crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, but firm enough to stay together with no obnoxious crumbling. Cornbread is great for crumbling in your soup, but YOU should be the crumbler. It shouldn't do that on its own accord.

My mother taught me how to make cornbread, just as her mother taught her. She tells the story of her brother stealing the good crispy outside of the whole skillet of bread by stretching out his long fingers over the top and giving it a good twist. Up it came in a big circle and then he’d run away with it. He ran because he knew my grandmother would be directly behind him, mad as a hornet about his bad behavior. It was always too late for her to do anything about it. He was too fast and the damage was already done. That is a BIG, BIG no-no around here. Everybody should get their fair share of the top layer. Of course it’s not even the top layer, it’s the bottom layer. When you take the skillet out of the oven, you turn it over to get it out so, the top becomes the bottom. If you don’t know cornbread, there’s a good chance you don’t even know what I’m talking about and that just makes me very sad for you. This picture is a close representation of what cornbread SHOULD look like, only it's obviously a little crumblier than I like and has some peppers or something in it. People really shouldn't mess up good cornbread with extraneous stuff.

If you live anywhere North of Tennessee or have only eaten cornbread in a restaurant, I’m willing to bet you are one of the deprived. Cornbread should NOT be bright yellow. Jiffy has a corn muffin mix, which should never, no never, be confused with cornbread. Jiffy is for the weak. Jiffy leaves a bad taste in my mouth. No, I’m serious. It really does. It’s a pasty bitter aftertaste. Gives me the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.

Cornbread is best when served with soup or pot liquor. Cornbread was meant for soaking up the juice left in the peas or the turnip greens. My grandmother believed that cornbread crumbled in buttermilk and eaten with a spoon was the cat’s pj’s. My eldest sister does the same thing, only with milk. Those wouldn’t be my favorite uses for cornbread, but I certainly don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Field peas and fresh tomatoes with hot cornbread…sigh. Comfort food is what that is. Just comforting.

Lies that Daddies Tell

2009-08-20T22:31:00.004-05:00

I firmly believe that you can't be a truly GREAT dad unless you can master the art of lying to your children. A lie, by definition is an incorrect or false statement and doesn't necessarily have to have a negative impact. I'm not talking about lying maliciously with intent to harm or anything, I'm talking about telling your 14-year-old daughter that Roses is closed on Saturday at 2:00 in the afternoon, or telling her that it's against the law to ride in the car at night with the overhead lights on like my own father did. Another prime example would be telling your children that you train dragonflies to land in your spare time or that you picked their mother up from a dumpster somewhere but she just doesn't remember it.

I think one of the biggest jobs of a Dad is to make the eyes of their daughters roll up in their sockets and to make their sons shake their heads in disbelief. It's a gift and a right and an obligation. A dad should be able to tell these lies with a perfectly straight face and be able to stick to their story, even when closely questioned. When a dad is asked a question about something and he is unsure of the answer, he should quickly be able to make something up off the cuff and spout off an answer as if it were God's truth. He should be so believable in his lies that he has them truly convinced that the scar on his leg was from a shark bite he got while snorkeling in Belize.

Here's a good, true life example of a daddy lie:

Dirty Larry: Kids, do you know about dinosaurs that are herbivores?

Kids: Yes, they only eat plants.

Dirty Larry: Good! What about a carnivore?

Kids: A dinosaur that eats meat!

Dirty Larry: Great! Now...what is a reservoir?

Kids: Um....*silence*

Dirty Larry: That's a dinosaur that only eats at restaurants.

Litkia: Oh!

Pateriko: *silence...shakes head*

You know, if I were completely honest, I'm still not sure if it's actually against the law to drive barefoot or not.

I think maybe psycho

2009-08-20T21:37:00.005-05:00

There's tenderhearted and then there's psycho. I'm trying to determine which of these labels best fits my son.

This is the child who at 4, would burst into tears watching his Disney Sing-A-Long Video that had the song "Somewhere Out There" on it. (see blog song) The song was next to last on the video and I had to be sure that if he watched that video, I made it into the den in plenty of time to remove it from the player before that song came on, otherwise I'd have a blubbering mess on my hands. I can't say how many times I looked up from what I was doing and realized that it was too late because I could hear the sad strains of that song coming from the other room. I would have to go running in there, just moments too late and wipe his crying, pathetic little self off the floor.

This is the same child who at 5, came to me crying because he felt so sorry for Porky Pig. You realize that Porky Pig has a stutter, yes? Well, Pateriko grieved for him and wished him the gift of correct speech. It didn't matter to him that Porky was a big star or that Porky didn't seem to be too upset by his handicap. He just mourned for him.

This child watched 20/20 without my permission when he was in the 2nd grade and came to me so upset to learn that there were people in the world who had a disease that kept them from ever sleeping. Oh how he fretted over that one!

Through the years, there have been so many things that made me label him as tenderhearted and maybe a little melancholy, but he has been so much better these last couple of years. That is, until these past couple of weeks. I saw him, once again, become emotionally unwound over something that didn't deserve that much attention. This time, it was a lizard. A lizard, riding on the windshield of the car, down the highway, hanging on for his dear, lizard life. Pateriko was visibly upset. He couldn't bear to watch this little green reptile flung to his death. So, being the good and patient mother that I am, I stopped the car at the next convenient spot and he got out and flicked the little fellow to safety. He got back in the car, most obviously relieved. It was a solid week later when the same thing happened, but this time it was a praying mantis. A bug mind you. An evil bug at that. But this creature had to be rescued from a certain death on the windshield of the jeep as well. I did ask him what size an animal had to be before he would just allow it to be blown off to it's unknown destiny and his response was that he shouldn't be able to see it's face.

So, armed with all this information, how is it that this same child can play a video game where he is given two paths to follow (good versus evil) and he inevitably picks evil? He chooses to become the killer of his peers and seems to enjoy the carnage he leaves in his wake. WHAT is UP with THAT?

I had no idea.

2009-08-16T15:41:00.001-05:00

It doesn’t normally occur to me to wonder what my husband is doing when he’s not in my presence, but I was told something shocking today by my children. Dirty Larry actually revealed one the secrets of his daily life to them that even I wasn’t privy to. He told them that sometimes he didn’t go to work. He said that sometimes, he just spends his day training dragonflies to land on tall skinny things like car antennas and gladiolas. He told the kids that if they are adult dragonflies it can take only a day but the newborns require more like a week to learn how to light correctly. When I confronted him about it today, he acknowledged his participation in this activity but corrected me by telling me that it was dragonflies AND butterflies. Then I asked him if he got paid to do this or if he just did it for God for free. He shook his head “no” to say that there was no money involved and then said, “It makes me happy”.

Seriously. No idea.

I think Jesus frowns on this...

2009-08-07T23:31:00.006-05:00

What is wrong with this crazy mixed up world? What happened to the days when your Cracker Jacks had popcorn AND peanuts? Not to mention a REAL prize like a spinner made out of actual tin and not just some punch out cardboard rocking clown that you have to assemble. I quit buying Cracker Jacks long ago because the peanuts had all but disappeared. I'm pretty sure that I can say I never DID get anything made out of tin from a box of this snack, even as a child, although legend has it that tin toys did exist. Sailor Jack and his dog, Bingo, have let me down.

So, just for the record, Fiddle Faddle, Crunch N Munch, Poppycock and all their knock off type counterparts are doing no better. Where are the peanuts people? That's the best part! I say if you're going to allow the ratio of popcorn to peanuts to be, say....100:3, then the picture you have as advertisement should reflect that. I think it should be against the law to show all those peanuts as if that's what you were being offered, because it's very disconcerting to open the box in anticipation of a danged peanut and not get one. Or at the very least it should be considered a sin. I'm fairly certain Jesus would NOT be happy.

To add insult to injury, the nutrition information on the side of the box says that one box is 3.5 servings. Who eats half a serving? Who is going to open the box and eat half a serving and then close it back? Plus your half a serving isn't going to have a peanut it in. I can almost guarantee that. One serving is 120 calories. So that whole box of popcorn with approximately 3 peanuts included actually costs you 420 calories. That's nearly the same caloric value as 4 Curly Wurly's!! Have you HAD a Curly Wurly? No? You most definitely should. They don't have any peanuts, but they never CLAIMED to. See?

Unforgettable...that's what you are.

2009-08-07T22:22:00.003-05:00

I wonder sometimes if you remember me. I want to believe that you do because there is some truly significant part of me that craves to be remembered. Besides, I remember all of you. I remember some of you better than others. You may have passed through my life only briefly, but I'll bet donuts to dollars that you made some sort of impression on me. Maybe you were the girl that was so innocently sweet and polite, who smiled at me and spoke so quietly I had to lean forward to hear what she was saying, or possibly the boy who was late every single day, walking in with disheveled hair like he had just rolled out of bed. I remember you, my four sandy-haired playmates, turning cartwheels in the front yard and catching bees. I also remember how I felt when Daddy told me you all died in the same car accident. What an impact you guys made! And you! You were the one who came to visit for a weekend. I slept in the room with my sister so you could use my room during your stay. I cried when you left because I felt pretty sure I would never see you again as long as I lived, and guess what? I didn't. But I sure do remember you fondly.

You were mean-spirited. You were so skinny! You couldn't stop touching my hair. Your eyes were two different colors. You put ice in your milk every morning. I liked you because you said what you meant without backing down. I didn't adore you because you told me I was fat. You had an imaginary friend. That was so much fun! You said something to me that I will never forget. I loved how you played the piano. You made me laugh when you made a face while I was singing. I just flat out admired you. You had the worst breath. You had some really big feet. I wanted your direction.

And that was only twenty of you. There are so many hundreds and hundreds of you here in my head. How could I ever forget you? I'm holding tight to you too. Don't get the impression that I ever want you to go away, because I don't. And that includes those of you whose memory evokes tears. You all had a hand in making me who I turned out to be. I wouldn't trade you for the world.

I remember you.

What Did Dirty Larry Bring Me Today? Episode #12

2009-08-03T19:11:00.008-05:00

Let me just say that there is absolutely no reason why Beej should ever be walking around with a wrinkled face or not smelling up to par, because Dirty Larry keeps her in the good smelling stuff and the super duper face creams. I can't help but wonder if he's trying to tell me something. Actually, Dirty Larry attended a manager's meeting last week, geered toward the cosmetic vendors. This nice haul, displayed decoratively on my new Dolce and Gabbana towel, is the latest bunch of goodies brought home to the Beej. I must say that there was MUCH more, but the rest was oriented to men, so I took no notice. What that champagne had to do with cosmetics, I do not know, but look at that cute little tiny bottle!

Read Previous Episodes of "What Did Dirty Larry Bring Me Today"!

Refrigerator Saga

2009-07-29T10:32:00.001-05:00

March 2006 – We buy a fridge. We are happy. It’s shiny. I give it cheese and sweet tea and I put my Café Du Monde magnet and pictures of the children on the front.

One year later – Fridge makes a horrible noise. It is obviously in some sort of horrific pain. We have the fridge repaired under warranty. Something about the motor? I don’t know, but it runs again and we didn’t have to pay anything. All is well.

July 6, 2009 – The fridge decides not to work. I try to think about what I could have done to cause this defiant behavior, but I think it’s not my fault. It’s 3 years old. I know how 3 year olds act. Maybe that’s it.

Day 1 – I call Samsung. They ask me lots of questions and take all my information. They tell me that a repair person will contact me within 24 hours. I wait.

Day 2 – Nobody calls.

Day 3 – I call Samsung again and explain that I have yet to be contacted by the repairman. Guess what they said? They wanted to know if I had called the repairman myself. I said, “No, I didn’t, because you told me the repairman would contact me.” They said, “Oh no, you need to contact THEM.” I said, “Then WHY did you tell me to wait for 24 hours on a call from somebody that I was supposed to be contacting and then not even bother to tell me who to contact?” They really just mumbled some crap right here but long story short, she gave me a number to call for the local repair company that we were to use. I call. I get a machine. I leave a message. I wait.

Day 4 – Nobody calls me back. So I call again and finally get a person on the phone. I make an appointment for someone to come out that afternoon. Said repairman arrives, takes a look and says “Hey! This motor has no fan!” We are all amazed that it has run 2 years without one. He orders a part and vows to be back tomorrow.

Let me stop here to point out how incredulous the guy was that it had been running for two years without a fan. He was so incredulous, in fact, that at one point I did feel the need to reassure him that I had never, no never, pulled the fridge from the wall and removed the fan for any reason. I wonder if it’s an important enough miracle that we should contact some religious faction, but somehow I sort of doubt it. It did, after all, eventually stop working. The real miracle would be if it was STILL going. But, I digress.

Day 5 – Repair guy replaces motor and fan but apparently is missing a tiny part he needs to complete the job. He leaves the house to get it and actually returns by 5:00 to finish the job. He says he is all done and it should be cold pretty soon. We pay him $200. By the time we go to bed, our fridge is not cold…

Day 6 – Not cold. But it’s Saturday.

Day 7 – Not cold. But it’s Sunday.

Day 8 – Called the guy to come back and try again. He says he’ll order a compressor.

Day 11 – Guy comes to weld in the compressor but runs out of something he needs to finish the job. Vows to return first thing in the morning.

Day 12 – Guy arrives around 2:30 in the afternoon and finishes welding in the compressor. He hangs around in the kitchen for a long, long time before he sheepishly calls for me to come talk to him. He pronounces the refrigerator “condemned”. Condemned to what, I do not know. Hell maybe? A life of hard labor in a work camp? At any rate, he says he will start the paperwork to begin the process of getting a new replacement fridge. We are still under warranty. I wait.

Day 13 through Day 22 - These days are not worth talking about, really. There was a lot of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. There were many bags of ice purchased and many phone calls made. There was lamenting over lack of cheese and cold tea. There was gaining of weight due to take out food and the feeling of camping out in a perfectly good house.

Day 23 – We are actually able to ORDER the new fridge. It is NOT the fridge I wanted because the one I wanted will not fit in my teensy-tiny kitchen. At this point, I truly don’t see renovation as an option. That’s okay. My second choice in black will be fine. Wait….are you saying I can’t have this black one delivered until Day 43? FORTY-THREE? (Aug 17). So, you say I can have the same one in white delivered on Day 27? I’ll take it.

I’ll let you know on Saturday whether we have a fridge and whether I am able to give it sweet tea and cheese and place my Café Du Monde magnet and the pictures of my children on the front. (because I know you care)

What's cooler than bein' cool? ICE COLD

2009-07-11T12:28:00.004-05:00

I've been without a refrigerator since Monday morning. I can't begin to count the bags of ice we have purchased since that time. I have now decided that it's TOO MUCH trouble trying to save the contents of the fridge in ice chests and I intend to take it all to my mama. My kids seem to be living over there with their cousins anyway, so their food may as well live there too. The thing I miss most is my tea pitcher. I'm so used to drinking cold tea all day long. I guess I could make a pitcher and stick it down in the ice chest with the cheese and the mayo, but when I pull it out, it'll be all drippy and gross and there'll be a mess to clean up every time I get thirsty. I'd rather whine about not having any tea.

I've been without it before. During hurricane season, we inevitably have to live without a fridge for a bit, but it's very sunny outside right now and it seems so wrong. It's like everything's been put on hold in what I feel is such an unnecessary way. And dealing with Samsung (I KNOW...who knew Samsung made refrigerators?? That was the FIRST mistake I guess) and the repairman has been nigh unto murder provoking. I'm trying VERY hard to talk nice to people, but my patience is wearing thin.

I had a friend tell me to put the fridge under my pillow tonight and the refrigerator fairy would bring me a new one in the morning. I'm very excited about the possibilities of that, but I think it would just be easier to take my pillow to the kitchen and camp out on top of the fridge instead of trying to get the fridge into the bed. I wonder if that would work just as well. Something tells me that it will.

Way too hard

2009-07-05T19:57:00.002-05:00

Tonight I got a call from my friend, Coco. She was letting me know that "60 minutes" was on and although it was a rerun, Bon Jovi was the featured subject. She tells me this because she cares. So I go to the den, so unassuming and naive, to turn on the TV to CBS, which should be channel 5 if I remember my days of watching "Survivor" correctly. I turn the TV on and there I find only static. I turn to channel 5 and there is still static. I remember that we are now digital and make sure that crazy box on the top of the TV is showing a green light instead of a red. It is green, but there is still static. My first instinct is to call one of the kids for help, but alas, they aren't home. In fact, they won't be home until Tuesday. Dirty Larry is off running an errand. I gather up all the remote controls that I can find, hoping that one of them will blink something at me that seems familiar or maybe, if they are worth anything at all, they will just start speaking and tell me how the heck to watch Bon Jovi. I start pushing buttons willy-nilly but only have luck in making the static much louder.

Because God is good to me, even when I don't deserve it, Dirty Larry walked in the door right at the moment I was about to commit a crime against an electronic device. He very calmly did some stuff....I don't know what (later he admitted to me that it was what Litkia had taught him to do), but it worked and I was able to bask in the glow of the TV while Jon Bon Jovi was speaking such nice words and looking so pretty.

I hate TV. And, I hate it even worse now that it's digital. What a waste of time and electricity. Don't people know about Netflix and Facebook? Now THOSE are worthwhile time wasters....sheesh.

Things I found..PLUS...visual aides

2009-06-12T10:48:00.013-05:00

I'm very intrigued because I found this unidentified object on the floor in the hallway. It's very hard plastic and has a hole in it lengthwise, all the way to the center on either side, but not all the way through. Nobody in the house recognizes it or claims it. I don't really think it was planted by aliens for purposes of spying, and I don't think it has any value....I think it's possibly just a piece of trash. But, for some reason, I can't bring myself to throw it away. It's driving me nuts.

I also found THIS thing. Only THIS thing was outside. I knew IMMEDIATELY what it was and it was NOT mine so I told it to go away.
I found this bag of homegrown tomatoes and peppers on my mama's kitchen counter. They are now on MY kitchen counter. Look at those little yellow ones...those are my favorite.

I found these impatiens at a local flower seller. She didn't take debit cards and I didn't have any cash with me. She told me to take them and pay her back another time. I couldn't believe it. Do people DO that anymore? It felt a lot like stealing but she was so insistent. Since I had already stolen my mama's tomatoes, I figured I was already in trouble so I took her up on her offer. I'm leaving to pay her now, but...

....I need to find some money first.

I just got a call...

2009-06-05T19:44:00.005-05:00

My children left this afternoon to go to Waterville in Gulf Shores, AL with the youth group at church. Litkia is new to the group and Pateriko is an old hand. They both seemed pretty excited when I dropped them off, though. My instructions were that they were to be picked up at 9:30 this evening, but at about 7:30, I got a phone call. It was Pateriko saying that they left earlier than they planned and that I should come get him NOW. I said...."NOW? As in right this second?" He said yes, they were on their way and almost home. I told him no problem, and hung up. Then the phone rang again. This time it was Litkia. "Hey mama! We left early, so come get us at 8:15!" I said "8:15? But Pateriko said to come right now!" "No, they said come at 8:15, here's Pateriko..." She hands the phone to Pateriko but for some reason, the call ends before he gets on the line. At this point, I have no idea which one to believe. All I know is that I'm not going over there and sitting in that parking lot for 45 minutes. The phone rings again. It was Pateriko, again. "Sorry for hanging up on you mama, I didn't know you were still on the phone." "That's okay, but Litkia said to come at 8:15. That's 45 minutes from now! Where are you?" Suffice it to say he has no idea where he is and neither do any of the other teen-type people on the van. I'm not going up there until 8:15 and I'd like to see somebody try to make me. I'm almost thinking that life was easier when I was growing up and you couldn't call your mama until you got home because there was no such thing as a cell phone. It never hurt us to sit and wait for our parents to come pick us up. My kids are spoiled. I should make them sit there and suffer for 8 whole minutes (which is about how long it will take for me to get there from my driveway). Then when I pick them up I'll tell them about how things used to be when I was kid and bore them out of their minds with my stories of the horrors of having to pick up the phone with NO IDEA who might be on the other end because caller ID was a thing of the future or how if you wanted to call your friend you had to stick your finger in a hole and DIAL the number, and if it was a number with lots of 7's, 8's, 9's or 0's, you could be an old person by the time you got done. They just don't know how good they have it.

I know you're sick of hearing this - don't even read it

2009-05-31T21:33:00.005-05:00

Hardly a day goes by that I don't have to type about someone who has just had bypass surgery. I think it's a crying shame that my job forces me to relive the death of my father over and over and over again. Some of these patients seem to be doing well, and others, not so much.

Tonight, once again, I find myself back in the hospital, sitting in fear and watching the nurse come into the waiting area, shaking her head, telling us she doesn't think he's going to make it. I'm watching my mother get on her knees in front of the chair she's sitting in and begin to pray even more earnestly, as if that was even possible. I'm exchanging a glance with Carol Baby, my mouth wide open, shocked and wondering how this could be happening and she mouthing words silently and privately to me that I will never forget as long as I live. I'm walking back to where he is laying and I'm standing and watching the nurse sew up his chest as I stand there in disbelief, looking back and forth at my sisters, willing it to be some horrible nightmare that I will wake up from. I'm standing there looking at my Mom who asks us to leave her alone with him and I'm stalking out of there so numb and angry and wondering why in the world they let us back there before they were done sewing him up. I'm sitting at the table with my family when mama asks us, "what do we do now?" and I have no idea what to answer. And although I honestly do feel better about the whole situation, my job really and truly sucks.

Fool me once...shame on me...

2009-05-25T12:19:00.003-05:00

I don't like cantaloupe. I just don't. I like the color and the smell and I like how it looks on a plate straight from the cold fridge, but when I put it in my mouth I am surprised each and every time that I just do NOT like it. I think I probably should. Oh! And what about the dessert bar at a Chinese restaurant? It all looks pretty nice, but seriously...none of that stuff is worth putting in your mouth.

And then there's mustard potato salad. I assume that I don't like it, but when Dirty Larry buys it and then offers me a bite, I decide that I do like it after all. I would NEVER buy mustard potato salad on purpose. My brain immediately tells me no. But like I said, my tongue inevitably decides yes.

Here's the part that I just don't get. Why do I have to go through that process of convincing myself EVERY STINKIN' TIME it happens? It's like a brand new thing I've never experienced, even though I've experienced it numerous times in the past. It's a new, brilliant revelation each and every time. You know, it's kind of like childbirth. If a woman who gives birth is willing to go through that process YET again, it's more than likely because she's totally forgotten what happened the first time around.

I think since this is MY blog and I get to make up the rules here, I'm okay with comparing childbirth to the taste of a stale fortune cookie. And yes, I do eat those things even though the majority of the population apparently does not. You know why? Because EVERY TIME I get one, I think...it's a cookie! I'm bound to like it.

Ooow...my noggin!

2009-05-08T07:09:00.006-05:00

My boy, Keifer Sutherland, who is on probation, (probably for killing somebody), has now gone off and head-butted a guy and he's gonna be in big trouble. Now, my question is...why, why, why in the world would a person make Jack Bauer mad enough to cause him to want to head-butt them? Does this person never watch television? I KNOW for sure why he's such a bitter, frightening man. His parents named him Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland. That's plenty enough to make you want to murder people.

The saddest part is that this unfortunate head-butting event happened so close to Jack Bauer appreciation day which falls on May 9th. Please my friends, let's think about our amazing friend, Jack, together, one last time before they cart him off to jail.

You know it really doesn't matter. He'll escape.

Wanted...Dead or Alive

2009-05-04T15:46:00.009-05:00

What a smashing weekend my blog friends. My high school buddy and I made a trip to New Orleans to attend the fabulous Jazz Fest and see my old flame Jon Bon Jovi. I thought I'd go over some of the highlights for you. The big let down for the weekend was that my back stage passes did NOT make it through the mail in time and I was subjected to the crowds like everyone else. Jon was singing to me, but I just couldn't get close enough to the stage to talk to him and he was pretty much brokenhearted.

Anyway, we arrived Saturday morning and joy of joys they let us in the hotel BEFORE 12:00 when the check in time wasn't until 3:00. It was the first weekend miracle and was on the list of weekend miracles at #3. We immediately set out for the french quarter to find food. After a bit of walking, we ended up at the Palace Cafe, where you have 7 waiters that all love you very much and only have your happiness in mind. Then we tried to determine how to get to Jazz Fest without getting lost or breaking the bank. We ended up on a bus and paid the nice driver $1.25 for the lift. When the bus stopped, we actually had no idea where we were but we acted very cool and just followed the crowd. That many people couldn't all be wrong at the same time. Sure enough, after a few blocks of walking, they led us to the fairgrounds where we began our next adventure, which was trying to figure out where a person might find the Gospel Tent (Aaron Neville) or the Lagniappe Stage (Bobby Lounge). We walked and we walked and we walked some more. Luckily, it wasn't terribly hot and I'm in smashing shape (shut up). The music was great, the company was pleasant and the people watching opportunities were amazing. Who knew there were so many people who thought those long spaghetti strap dresses looked good enough on them to wear out in public! After we had our fill of music, we found ourselves back on a bus, listening to the interesting conversations around us, ready to begin our search for dinner. We found ourselves back in the quarter and visited the Gumbo Shop, where we sat under the stars while we ate okra gumbo and red beans and rice, and rested our tired feet.

The next morning, we planned to meet our old pal Gnutcase at Cafe Du Monde for the obligatory french donut and got the bright idea to catch a street car to our destination. I hopped on one and my friend was right behind me. Sadly the mean driver person told her she couldn't have her coffee, so she hopped back off to discard her cup. In the meantime, mean driver lady tried to shut the danged door on me. It was unnecessary to say the least. The picture you see here is the picture I took while we were still both pretty happy about our TROLLEY ride. I'm calling it that because we were specifically told NOT to call it a trolley, but I'm a little disgruntled, so....anyway, we finally were both seated and on our way, when suddenly out of the blue, the street car (trolley) turned a corner and started going in a direction that we did NOT want to go. Now we hated the mean driver person even more. Eventually we did disembark, but it was WAY FAR AWAY from where we needed to be, so we walked and walked and walked some more. Miracle #2 is that I didn't maim/dismember that mean driver person. We did finally find Gnut and eat our beignet and we sat and watched the river for a bit and once again rested our sad, tired feet. Gnut was kind enough to drive us back to the jeep for our departure out of the city. I do want it said that my Tom Tom tried to take us everywhere BUT Interstate 10 on the way home. I have no idea why, but we were smart enough to ignore that British accented voice and got the heck out of Dodge without her help at all.

That leads us to miracle #1, which is that I STILL woke up this morning and ran two miles on aching legs. You are proud. Don't pretend not to be.

You guys come next time...was fun!

pats herself on the back

2009-05-01T12:20:00.002-05:00

Today, I am proud of me. In fact, I've been proud of me for quite a while now, but today, especially, I'm impressed with myself. Let's go back over the years of this blog and try to remember that I am mostly known as a sedentary soul. My job offers me no prospects for moving around. I sit at this computer all day and type away with no office mates or lunch buddies. I just sit. But, back in September, I joined that gym, remember? That moment has changed my way of thinking about some things. Not only have I dropped some weight, and changed my eating habits a little, I have now convinced myself that I can run. Well....I can run on the treadmill at least, but I promise you I'm thinking further into the future and it really does involve being outside. So what is my grand accomplishment? I ran 2.25 miles today without stopping. It took me 30 minutes at a very steady and obviously slow pace, but I did it. And, on top of that, I feel confident that I can do it tomorrow and the next day and again and again. So I will. And maybe, just maybe, one day I'll go faster or farther, but for today....just look at what I did!

Bling Bling

2009-04-26T23:06:00.003-05:00

It is official. I have taken the silver toe ring from the jewelry box and placed it on the second toe of my left foot where it will reside for the next 5 months**. It's a sign of spring. It's a sign of new beginnings, flip flops and pedicures. It's the same toe ring that I saw on the foot of my sister, CB, many years ago and coveted. I did not steal it. Just sayin'.

**appromixation

These are a few of my buggiest things...

2009-04-18T12:07:00.007-05:00

It bugs me that this guy I know just spelled the word 'coming' with two m's, like 'comming'. I just think since he's 42, he's had plenty of time to see that word spelled correctly by now and should realize his incredible wrongness. I wouldn't mind so much if it were a typo, but I know in my heart of hearts that it just wasn't. And along that same line of thinking, there is somebody that I will not name here that uses the word centurion in place of the word centenarian. I wouldn't care so much, but this person is completely brilliant and again, should just know better.

It bugs me that my hair is falling out at such an alarming rate that I will more than likely be completely bald by the time I get in to see the doctor in May for my scheduled appointment. I went to a funeral yesterday and the lady sitting in front of me had SO VERY LITTLE hair that I could see straight through to her scalp and I just could NOT concentrate on anything else for thinking about my own danged head.

When I buy a fresh pineapple and spend all that time sticking myself and generally being uncomfortable while preparing it to be eaten, and then ask my kids to take the top out to the yard and plant it, it bugs me that they inevitably pick the absolute worst place in the yard to put it. It's usually somewhere NEAR a flower bed, but actually in the grass in the yard. I spent a little time walking around digging them up the other day and replanting them in a bed where they have a better chance of surviving a lawn mower incident. I still can't believe those things continue to live and grow. It's actually very cool and not as buggy as I originally thought, now that I've typed it all out.

The Terminex man really bugs me. No pun intended. (Well OBVIOUSLY it was intended). Anyway, for starters, he is a creepy little guy. When he came a month ago for the annual termite thingy, he admitted to standing outside my bedroom door in the hallway listening as I typed dictation. I'm sorry, but that's just creepy. Then Thursday, when he was here spraying for bugs, he saw a snake in the backyard. He came to the door and said in a very quiet voice so the children wouldn't hear, "I don't want to alarm you or anything, but I saw a snake in your backyard". When I asked him if he got it, he said "no" and when I asked him what kind it was he said "I don't know", to which I responded, "Oh come on! Aren't you supposed to know that kind of thing?" He said it was "blackish and about 3 feet long". I could tell he wanted me to get all upset but I just couldn't give him the satisfaction. Yeah, he pretty much bugs me a LOT more than that pineapple thing.

It bugs me that I would rather do ANYTHING than work today, including typing up a ridiculous blog post about absolutely nothing. I should really get back to it now, even though my heart is just...not...in...it.

It would be like picking a fight with a porcupine...

2009-04-15T09:58:00.004-05:00

...people would watch, but you'd end up looking and feeling like a pincushion.

There are moments in this life when a person might accomplish something that they can feel extremely prideful about; something that is worth boasting about. I think I spend a lot of time on the brilliant blog and facebook bragging about myself and trying to make myself look a little more awesome than I probably am. I do tend to ask people to drink my Kool-Aid and become a Beejite like all the cool kids. I sort of crave the scraps of attention that putting myself on display seems to bring. But this woman rubbing 24 chilies in her eyes is just dumb. The Beej will never even be tempted in the least to bring attention to herself in such a manner. Why would a person do such an insane thing? All I can come up with is that she, as a matter of fact, is actually insane. If it looks like an insane person, acts like an insane person, walks like an insane person and talks like an insane person, it probably IS an insane person. Somebody get that lady some water...and a psychotherapist.

A new era!

2009-04-12T20:07:00.005-05:00

I vividly remember the day that my children were first able to get into the car by themselves, sit down, close the doors and buckle themselves in without my help. It was a landmark day that freed me like nothing else had ever done...before now.

I can count on one hand the number of times my children had a babysitter and as very small people, I didn't much let them out of my sight, even to stay with their grandparents. I felt the burden of motherhood to the point that I didn't want to interfere with other people's lives in order for me to have a moment without them. I felt like they were mine to look after and mine to discipline and mine to generally annoy. I have been very blessed and I'm so thankful that I was able to quit teaching and stay home with Pateriko until his sister was born, and then when I did have to go back to work, I was able to do so at home. I do NOT love my job, but I do love the perks of being at home.

Monday night, Dirty Larry and I attended a concert, sans kids and stayed out until the VERY LATE hour of 11:15 PM. It was pretty much a first for us because the kids were home ALONE. They ate, watched a movie and went to bed on time. I only got one text from Pateriko and it said that they were going to sleep. I admit that the den looked a little, um... "well used" when we got home, but it was another landmark day for me. I felt free to have fun without those ~~pesky brats~~ precious babies tagging along. Then again on Saturday night, I got the urge to go run and Dirty Larry said he would go with me to the gym. I hesitated for a moment and then remembered that my kids were way old enough to stay alone for 30 minutes, even at night. It made me smile. There are so many reasons that I hate to see them grow up, and then there are those things that make me know that it's just time for that and I'm so proud of what they are becoming. I admit that most of the time the thought of them getting older and leaving and having lives of their own saddens me to the point of tears, but then there are days like today when I'm just thankful for a few moments of peace and the assurance that we've done a good job with them. They are really GOOD kids. Pretty soon, it's going to be out of our hands for good. I just hope they're prepared.

And then...

2009-03-29T22:15:00.003-05:00

It was Saturday morning.

Dirty Larry woke up and walked to the window to look outside, and then...
He said, "HEY...this carpet is wet!", and then...
I woke up with a very bad feeling, and then...
He went to check the back door and discovered that water had come under the door during the night and flooded the laundry room, and about 2 feet from the wall in all the rooms along the back of the house, and then...
He got a shower and left for work, and then...
(No seriously...he left me) And then...
(Do you get that I was alone now?) And then...
I cried a bunch and had a mini nervous breakdown, and then...
I worked on cleaning up the laundry room and accidentally messed up the vent hose in the back of the dryer, and then...
I dried some stuff in the messed up dryer because I didn't know I had messed it up. When I discovered the mistake I'd make, the whole laundry room was sweating, and it was freakin' hot in there (like a sauna), and then...
I was trying to fix it and the phone rang. It was Coco. I think she wanted to tell me some bad stuff about her life, but I told her I didn't want to hear it right then but I still loved her, and then...
I moved furniture and ripped up carpet and carpet padding, and then...
I cut the wet pad out and wrung it out with my hands and threw it all in the dryer, and then...
I worried about how dumb that might possibly be, and then...
LUCKILY, it worked, and then...
My mama came over and I can't even SAY some of the stuff I'd like to say right here, and then...
I made myself a sandwich and she ate it, and then...
I made another one and Dirty Larry came home for lunch and ate it, and then...
I was ok because I made a third sandwich and got to eat that one, PLUS, Dirty Larry brought home an industrial type carpet dryer which helped, and then...
I put the padding puzzle back together and taped it all in place, and then...
I let the fans and the carpet dryers do their thing, and then...
We all just listened to fans for the rest of the night and some of the next day.

I think everything is okay now. We'll know in a few days I guess since the AIR CONDITIONER IS BROKEN and if mold and mildew is gonna happen, it shouldn't take long to start smelling under these conditions.

What can I say? When it rains, it pours (right underneath your back door, wetting your Raggedy Ann doll you made in the 6th grade).

Pretty sure I'm cognitively impaired

2009-03-27T11:59:00.002-05:00

As most Beejites know, I am a medical transcriptionist who works at home. Most of the patients that I'm typing about are nursing home residents, and I'd say a whopping 99.9% of them have seen better days. In a large number of cases, these patients have some degree of dementia, and the degree of their cognitive impairment is a factor in determining the correct treatment. One way health professionals chart this is by giving an MMSE. The doctors and nurse practitioners that I work for call it a Mini Mental Status Exam, but I think it's actually an acronym for Mini Mental State Exam. At any rate, the test is just a series of 11 questions and only takes about 5 or 10 minutes to administer. The highest you can score is a 30 and any score under 23 is a red flag. Patients are tested routinely, so if one week their score drops suddenly, the facility is alerted that action may need to be taken.

Now that you're all up on the system, I'm here to say I'm pretty sure I'd flunk that test. The very first question is worth 5 points and asks for the year, season, date, day and month. I know I'd miss at LEAST 2 of those. I NEVER, no never, know the day or the date.

The part of the test where you have to remember three things and be able to recall them later in the exam would make me lose 3 more points. I have no room in my brain to store any unnecessary clutter, much less pull up that same unnecessary clutter from the vast amount of information already hanging around in there.

The part where you have to add 7 + 7 and then keep adding 7 to your answer made my head hurt. I lose at least 4 points there because after the initial answer of 14, I'm really just not interested in playing that game any more. (It didn't occur to me right away that I could just use my multiplication table knowledge to answer, which in itself is a serious concern, don't you agree?)

The language portion of the test where you have to follow a three step command requires you to 1. Take a paper in your hand 2. Fold it in half and 3. put it on the floor. Is that not littering? Do you know how hard I try to keep my kids from just tossing stuff on the floor? I refuse. Minus 1.

By my calculations, my score would be somewhere around 20, which puts me right under that acceptable score where people don't really worry about you or your ability to get your shoes on by yourself in the morning. So, I think people should worry about me more and maybe cook the dinner for me so I don't burn the house down or run the errands and drive the kids to and from school so I don't make some crazy traffic mistake because of my impairment. I don't think enough people are concerned about my mental health. I'm just an accident waiting to happen.

At least I can spell "world" backwards.

I think.

Things I heard my children say tonight

2009-03-19T21:37:00.002-05:00

Litkia and I attended the honor band concert that Pateriko was performing in tonight. Here are some random things I heard before, during and after said concert.

I don't know. (answer given when Pateriko was asked if money was required for us to get into the concert)

Mama, that guy looks like a big old leprechaun. (he really did and I nearly swallowed my gum)

Look at that girl over there with the string bass. (before he went to sit down with the band, he had to point out this girl that he'd been telling me about for two days)

kinda.hungry (texted to me by Pateriko DURING the concert)

Mama, that man is looking at you. Are you gonna say hey? (also DURING the concert....turns out it was my cousin)

a.saxophone.is.smelling.his.money (also texted during the concert....he explained later the a sax player was actually SMELLING a twenty dollar bill....no idea why)

I'm really cold and I need to go to the bathroom. ( I told her to hang tight because it was almost over)

*shrugging shoulders* (visual answer to my question when I texted him and asked him what that instrument was right behind the bass drum in the other band)

Everybody is standing up and clapping now because they're just so glad it's over. (I shushed her but I kinda agreed)

Did you see the string bass player? Wasn't she pretty? Her name is Megan. She goes to Causey Middle School. She was really pretty. Every time she came into the room I told my friend, Shane, "hey...look...she's still pretty". She is really pretty.

The tiger's name is Koala Bear and the koala bear's name is Tiger. Tiger ate Koala Bear.....think about it. (She then proceeded to try to explain it to me while laughing. I told her to go away)

Mama, did you see that string bass player? (right before he closed his eyes)

*sigh*

Pateriko's Poetry Take 2 snap

2009-03-14T10:42:00.002-05:00

My brilliant 14 year old came home with more poetry the other day. I thought I would share.

Lunch

Choices affect you
Day by day
Even the small ones
Can leave you in dismay
Chips and grilled cheese
Or a PB & J
I can never tell
Where my heart lies
Sometimes it’s so much
It makes me want to cry
Ice cream sundaes
Or key lime pie
Sometimes you think
Oh this will suffice
But I say to you now
Always think twice
Hawaiian punch
Or sweet tea with ice
I chose the pie
My heart lied
I look back at the tasty array
In dismay…

And one more...This one you must read with feeling and longing (according to the author).

Ode To My Right Arm

Oh right arm
Oh my right arm
I love you
Never broken
Not once
No, never given me
any real pain
You give me strength when I need it
but very skilled and adept fingers
to weave
type
plant
click
paint
grab
write
We have lived 14 years together
I have always loved you
You have always loved me
That is the way it will be

Pateriko

Read more of Pateriko's poetry -->HERE<--

They'll fight over it when you're dead

2009-03-10T11:53:00.002-05:00

I was at the magic website today and ran across an ad for a place where they sell leather stuff. Now, I tend to ignore most of those ads. They all pretty much say the same thing over and over ad nauseam. It's either acacia berries or losing belly fat or getting a free High School Musical cell phone ring tone...you know stuff like that. But today, there was this NEW ad that I hadn't seen before. It caught my attention just as I was clicking the little x to close the window. I actually hit the back button on the browser hoping to see it again. Alas, it was gone, but I did a little facebook ad research and found it. The thing that caught my eye was the very catchy phrase "they'll fight over it when you're dead". BRILLIANT!

Kudos to the person who came up with this ad campaign. They deserve a raise. And just so you know, I visited the website and I agree that I would absolutely fight somebody (with my teeth) for one of those lovely leather bags, right directly over the dead body of the person who once owned it.

So, the moral of the story is...make sure you have a will? (and if you have one of those bags you should will it to me)

At least my shoes have rubber soles

2009-03-08T13:07:00.005-05:00

In my newly found devotion to exercise and all things healthy, I came across a website where you can enter your address and find out the "walking score" for your area. I knew mine wouldn't be very high because of how spread out everything is here, but I was curious, so I entered my information. My score was 9/100 and I was told that I was "car dependent". I knew this, but I was somehow disappointed that I couldn't even make it into double digits. I would love to live in a "walkable" town at this point in my life, but I don't see that happening anytime in my near future. Following a few links here and there, I also read that people who live in these walkable towns do a lot of bike riding too and there's a big problem with bike theft. The solution? A nifty CARDBOARD bike.

I personally think that the novelty of this bike makes it a sure target for theft, but apparently, since it only costs about $30 to produce one of these things, you would feel better having lost a cardboard version of a much more expensive product.

But....what happens when I get caught in a torrential downpour? I envision it melting underneath me and then flash forward to me entering my front door holding only the chain and the pedals. I also admit that the picture in my head includes my dripping wet hair stuck to a face that has less than a happy look on it, but that's a story for another day.

I think Abby should check this out for us.

Find your walkscore here!

Hic sunt dracones

2009-03-01T20:50:00.004-06:00

Here be dragons. I was told today that this Latin phrase was found written on the edges of many historical maps where the world was still unexplored and mysterious. I did a little research and only found one or two instances where this was the case, but it seems to be such a widely known fact that I'm unsure what to believe. It's not like I have access to a lot of historical maps. At any rate, it stirs up in me the desire to see some dragons. There is so much world that I have not seen. There are so many things that I have yet to experience. If "hic sunt dracones" was meant to scare me, it failed miserably. I admit that a handful of years ago I wouldn't have felt the same way. I was afraid of all things new and of everything I didn't understand. I feel quite a bit differently today, and I guess I can honestly say that the thing that scares me now is the possibility that I will never get to meet those dragons. My concerns are justifiable for reasons that I won't go into here, but justifiable nonetheless. I think in light of the circumstances I may have to let sleeping dragons lie, even though waking them would be immensely more fun in my way of thinking. I need to find a way to be okay and even fulfilled while skating on the edges of the unknown without ever actually making my way over the border to uncharted territory. How does one go about doing that? If I could figure that out, then I could sell the solution for a bankload of money. I could then choose to use my newfound knowledge to be okay with things the way they were or use my windfall to buy a ticket to dragonland. Who wants to guess which one I'd pick?

Well I never!!

2009-02-27T12:02:00.003-06:00

I think something may be wrong with us. My family, I mean. I've come to notice over many years of observing human behavior, that people are just prone to belch, blow their nose and experience flatulence occasionally. My family does none of those things. Well...okay, we do those things, but we certainly don't do them in front of each other and certainly not in front of anybody else. This morning, I decided it was a sickness. I think our behavior may be abnormal. I was sitting at the table and Litkia jumped up and left the room. She got a Kleenex and started blowing her nose in the next room. Now, I SAY she was blowing her nose, but it was the most pathetic blowing of a nose I've ever heard. It was like she was purposely trying to be quiet. I yelled to her from my seated position, "BLOW IT for Pete's sake. What GOOD are you doing like that?" So she just gave up being shy about the noise and blew it. In the car later I asked her a few questions, like "WHY are you embarrassed to blow your nose in front of people? Did I do that to you? Did I tell you that you should be embarrassed about blowing your nose in front of people? Do you think other people feel the same way that we do?" She had no answers for me. I started telling her about my friend who tends to burp a lot and how she's never embarrassed about it. Litkia named her immediately; almost without hesitation. The reason she KNEW who I was talking about is because she has NOTICED. It isn't normal behavior in her eyes and I'm sure my friend was judged harshly in Litkia's head. It goes WAY beyond just trying not to be offensive to people, it's more like a moral issue or something. You know? Like....people who are willing to make disgusting noises in front of other people can't possibly have a personal relationship with Jesus. That's bound to be wrong thinking. I should be more accomodating. So I will try, but I'd be lying if I told you it didn't bother me.

Bad Boys II

2009-02-23T09:08:00.003-06:00

In my rush to talk about evil shoplifters last night, I omitted the most amazing story of all. Dirty Larry said they caught a guy a few weeks ago, that he actually knew as a customer at a jewelry store he managed several years ago. The man is 65 years old and very wealthy. At the time he was caught shoplifting, he had $600 in his pocket and a $28,000 Rolex on his wrist. Guess what he was taking? A $2.75 Godiva chocolate candy bar. He actually finished eating it as they were detaining him, I think as a sign of his indifference. Apparently, he had never been caught stealing in the store before, but he was marked as suspicious on so many occasions, they used the candy bar theft as a way to issue a "trespass" and keep him out of the store.

I still don't get it even after a good night's sleep.

Bad Boys Bad Boys - Whatcha' gonna do?

2009-02-22T18:37:00.008-06:00

When Dirty Larry came home from work today, I asked him how his day went. He said it was fine. I asked him what he did and he said, "Put somebody in jail, you know, normal stuff". The stories he tells about shoplifters never cease to amaze me. They arrest an average of 4 people a week, all of which go directly to jail where they can make bond. They eventually go to court and get slapped on the wrist and might even get probation or have to do a little community service or something, but rarely does anyone have to actually serve any jail time. They are all served with what he calls a "trespass" which bars them from the property or any sister properties owned by the company. He estimates that the 4 they catch is about 1/3 of the total of the shoplifting activity going on.

There is a camera room where operators sit and scan the store, looking for tell tale signs, which to their trained eyes are obvious. The major two things are (1) people who enter the store with large shopping bags on their person, especially one that bears the store name or the name of a store that isn't anywhere in the area and (2) people who enter with baby strollers. The operators are constantly talking to the computer monitors, begging the suspicious people to abort their mission, especially when they have their kids with them. "Don't do it, lady! Don't do it!" But sadly, some people just don't seem to receive the message via ESP.

I asked him to tell me the saddest encounter he had and he said it was hands down the times where the people had their children with them. The children get understandably upset. He immediately starts telling them to call somebody to come get their kids because when the police cart them away, the kids will automatically go to DHR. He hates it when people don't believe him and let too much time pass before they call somebody.

I just don't get it. I really don't get it. If you can't afford 4 polo shirts for your kid, then your kid should be polo-less. Seriously. If you need a belt and can't afford the $60 one, go to Wal-Mart and find one for $5 that will keep your pants up. If you want a candy bar THAT bad, take one of the bills from your pocket and PAY the nice lady for it. What happened that these people don't care what their mama is gonna say and where are their morals? Great eejits.

Presenting....

2009-02-17T00:30:00.000-06:00

For your Tuesday entertainment and amusement...Beej and her brilliant boy, Pateriko! Luckily, the video ran out JUST as Beej hit a sour note.

It makes me very happy to play stuff with my kids, especially when they're interested in learning. I think in Pateriko's case, he just likes to take what he learns back to school and play it on the bells during band to impress the masses. He's a percussionist, but is the self-proclaimed "bell master". I personally don't think he can read music. He has the whole lot of them fooled. However, I just recently learned how to transpose from one key to another thanks to something he enlightened me about (not that I'm in any way good at it, but at least now I GET it). I took piano from 2nd grade through half of my college years and it took a few minutes and a 14 year old to explain it to me. And, brilliant though I may be, he has to put my movies in the DVD player because I just have no idea which remote control to use and what buttons to push. That is something that I just choose not to learn.

But your hair sure looks cute in that ponytail...

2009-02-16T09:01:00.004-06:00

Last night I ran for miles and miles with one leg sort of twisted behind the other leg precariously. It was very uncomfortable, but I kept going because...well, I don't know why, but I kept kept going. I kept thinking I should stop and try to run correctly with one foot in front of the other, but for some reason, I just couldn't get my feet to do that. I kept thinking how it shouldn't be this hard because sometimes when I run miles and miles, I do it right and it's not even painful. I can go for long stretches without even breathing hard, and I can go much faster.

This is a recurring dream, and to be honest, I'm sorta tired of it. I think it's just my subconscious making fun of my failure as a runner. I mostly pretend that the failure doesn't bug me, but I think it actually does. So this morning, as a show of spite to the part of my mind that is toying with me, I decided to talk to my ugly running shoes and convinced them that we should try again, starting this morning. I stepped onto the treadmill, just like I do each and every morning, but this time, after a tiny warmup, I upped the speed and I ran. Well, it was more like a jog, but can we please call it running? I figure if you and I were side by side and you walked and I did this jogging/running thing, I'd have left you way back there ages ago. Anyway, I ran. Now, much like Lemony Snicket's story telling, this story will more than likely never have a happy ending, no matter how much I build up hope. Total running time without stopping? 10 minutes. That's all.

I will try again tomorrow.

What did Dirty Larry bring me today? Episode #11

2009-02-14T20:40:00.009-06:00

As many of you know, I've become a Chanel girl this past year. I love how every Chanel makeup item is housed in a shiny black case with that pretty Chanel trademark on the top, not to mention the velvety bags that accompany them. Even the bottle of face cleanser I have has a shiny black lid and is as smooth as glass. It's all very aesthetically appealing. Everything Chanel feels hefty and substantial. I heart Chanel. All this to say that Dirty Larry brought me something Chanel for Valentine's Day today. It's a handheld mirror, but not just any mirror. It's the same mirror that is used at all the Chanel counters! It's lovely, and just in case you aren't sure about it, you are jealous. Sayin'.

Read Previous Episodes of "What Did Dirty Larry Bring Me Today"!

I tried using asterisks in place of the two S's, but it looked stupid to me.

2009-02-12T21:14:00.006-06:00

I know that some of you (TwoDogs) are not as enamoured of facebook as I am, but like Brandy says, it's a magical website. Tonight I was there, looking at and thinking about my friends, old and new, and I realized that a large percentage of them, especially the ones I feel closest to, are pretty much wisenheimers. Before I go any further, I need to clear something up. Beej went to the thesaurus to find a nicer word than wiseass, since we are all fully aware of the blog rules and how we don't say stuff like that, and wisenheimer seemed to be a Beej-like choice. Also, I did not know that wiseass is spelled like a compound word. You learn something new every day. But, I digress.

As I was saying, most of the people I choose to be around are people I have to compete with to get a little stage time. For just a moment tonight, I wondered why in the world I do that. Then I remembered something that Dirty Larry has said many times over the years. He says that you are only as good as those you surround yourself with. I think it's something akin to laying down with dogs and getting up with fleas, possibly. Or maybe iron sharpening iron. What I'm trying to say, my friends, is that I choose to blame my sarcastic demeanor on everybody else. I am a mirror, reflecting only what I see before me (which now that I think about, could possibly be an explanation for why my skin has been so dry lately). I don't remember being like this when I was younger. I think I used to be a very nice person. Now, before you start getting the idea that I'm repenting of my sharp tongue, let me assure you that I don't intend to change, at least not on purpose. I like it this way and I think I'll try harder to stay away from overly happy, bubbly people, just in case they rub off on me. I'd hate to turn back into the bowhead that I once was. Bad thing is that I live with shiny, sparkly Dirty Larry who told me that maybe I should rethink using the word wiseass on my blog. He's gonna be my downfall for sure.

That ticks her off...

2009-02-09T21:55:00.012-06:00

I went to eat with my friend tonight. We sat on the patio of one of the city's 45 Starbucks establishments after dinner and drank coffee and talked.

Friend: You know what ticks me off?

Beej: No friend. Pray tell, what ticks you off?

Friend: Gas prices are going up again.

Beej: Oh, yeah. That's bad.

*silence*

Beej: What else ticks you off? *takes a pen and dinner receipt from her purse so she can take notes*

Friend: That old woman and man in that car that almost ran over me in the Sears parking lot.

Beej: Oh my.

Friend: Old bat.

Beej: Oh my.

Friend: Our waitress tonight.

Beej: Yeah, she kinda sucked.

Friend: People who come in the one way places in a parking lot, going the wrong way to avoid a light. *points across the patio to the car turning into the parking lot, going the wrong way to avoid a light*

Beej: *turns to look* What else friend?

Friend: People who teach my kids vulgar things.

*her kid sorta got in trouble today*

Beej: It's gonna be okay.

Friend: Having to pay the dentist to clean my teeth when really I should be able to do that myself.

*more silence*

Beej: Is that all?

Friend: You know Jacob's mama?

Beej: Yeah.

Friend: Have you seen her hair? She suddenly looks like Rapunzel. She paid $600 for a freakin' weave. It took 12 hours for her to get extensions.

Beej: Are you kidding? Do you KNOW what I could do with $600 and 12 hours?

*more silence*

Friend: Yeah, she ticks me off.

Hope your Saturday was as pleasant as mine

2009-02-07T17:24:00.011-06:00

Today, I met my friend at the gym and went to the tanning bed. I know that tanning borders on bad behavior, but it really does make me happy. Later in my life, when I ask you why I did this and my skin is all leathery, remind me that I said that. When I was all done tanning, I was trying to decide whether to treat myself to coffee at Moka's. Here I am deciding.

After that, this is what I saw...

...which meant I decided yes. Here's the proof.

When I got home, it was time for the family to work in the yard. We did that last Saturday as well and it was such a success that we thought we'd do it again. This time, I bought spiffy new gloves for me and the kids from the local dollar store for 3 bucks (and that's about how much use we got out of them too - mine already have a big old hole in them). Dirty Larry already had super duper gloves that he keeps hidden in his vehicle. He would never leave them in the garage. What if a spider decided to crawl in there and settle in one of the fingers when he wasn't looking? So in the car they stay.

We worked very hard for hours and hours (seriously). Well, at least some of us did. There were others of us who mostly played around with a rope we were using to pull some dead limbs out of a tree. Here are the culprits now.

Please note that Litkia's pants, while not matching her shirt, do match her gloves...kinda. I feel almost certain that she did this on purpose when she saw her nifty new striped gloves. I did mention that she was outside for the world to see and asked her if she was sure her ensemble was appropriate attire. She seemed okay with it, so I refrained from speaking about it any further.

So, this is the corner of the yard that we worked on today. This is an "after" picture. If you were standing in the same spot yesterday, you wouldn't see the same view. In fact, you wouldn't have seen the house at all. That's how overgrown and jungle-like the place had become. Another detail of interest in this picture is something that most people have never seen before. In fact, I haven't seen it many times myself. Look closely on the bottom left of the picture and you will see Pateriko RUNNING. I'm keeping this one forever.Anyway, here's the big pile of mess we made. I hope the city comes soon to get it all. Last weekend we had 11 contractor sized bags full of leaves out there and they were all gone by the next night. It wasn't the city though. It was the neighbors. I'm not sure what they wanted with our leaves, but I thank them for removing them just the same. Please note that in this picture, Litkia is still in the front yard, still pulling on that rope. My kids need new toys.

Fantabulous Friday

2009-02-06T06:59:00.003-06:00

OH! Beejites! What a glorious Friday has begun for me this day. When the alarm went off, it didn't feel TOO difficult to rise from bed and the sun was already peeking through my window. I like that so much better than waking up in the dark. If I have to get up while the moon still shines, I feel robbed of part of my night.

Anyway, I went to wake up Litkia and for some reason, there wasn't the normal wrestling match with me trying to convince her that living and breathing is a good thing and that she should get up and eat breakfast. She, like me, seemed to not mind so much this morning.

I stopped by the computer as usual to check the morning e-mail and saw an article that added excitement to my already satisfying morning. Jon Freakin' Bon Jovi is going to be at Jazz Fast in New Orleans in May. Oh. My. Goodness.

Now, you may think that all this happiness is quite enough for a girl, but I'm here to tell you that there is more. MORE I SAY. I walked into the kitchen and flipped on the light and what met me there was brilliant. My first reaction was confusion. Things didn't look right to me. Something was wrong. This kitchen was clean! I mean REALLY clean. Everything was shiny and even the FLOOR HAD BEEN MOPPED. It was like a band of angels came down and swooped through there shining up the place with their heavenly cleaning products. I was stunned. Who could have done this?

Turns out it was Pateriko. PATERIKO people! My 14 year old son who has a hard time doing ANYTHING worthwhile had stayed in the kitchen last night and made it fabulous. I was overjoyed. He told me Happy Valentine's Day. I hugged him and thanked him and told him it made me exceedingly happy. It also took all my might not to say that it wasn't Valentine's Day yet and ask him to do it all again NEXT weekend. I think it would have spoiled the moment. While Pateriko was in earshot, I did, however, tell Dirty Larry that now that I knew he was capable of doing that, he'd be doing it more often. I couldn't help it. My poor kids.

Obvious shirking of the blog duties

2009-02-05T11:27:00.002-06:00

Did this meme at facebook. Posting it here because I am L-A-Z-Y.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? I don't think so.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I can usually answer this question with "a minute ago" but seriously, I can't remember right now. I must be having a good month!
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Not in the least, but I am powerless to correct this flaw.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? cheese (is that a lunch meat?)
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Not as a rule but I did a couple of times before.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? I'd be my very best friend in the whole wide world.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM? NevAH!
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? yes
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? only if cheese was involved.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Cinnamon Life..hands down
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? naw
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? the kind that comes in an ice cream container
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Whether they have cheese in their possession or not.
15. RED OR PINK? those colors are just wrong wrong wrong. Let's try brown...or black.
16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? I'm kinda mean. But...actually, I kinda like that, so never mind.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? my Daddy
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST? yes, and I hope they bring me cheese too.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? black gym pants, big ugly gray running shoes
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Birds outside the window talking to each other.
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? I have always had an affinity for that cornflower blue one, but I'm pretty sure I'd never go out in public looking like that.
23. FAVORITE SMELL? Interstate 65 at the Sunbeam bread making place (or maybe it's the Budweiser brewery on the other side that smells of yeast). One of those anyhow.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Larry
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Yes, I do. I wish I knew her better. She is a very smart psycho. Um...you know what I mean. ((I got this meme from Angie Miles who is a newly graduated psychology major))
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Haaaahahhahaa...haaaahahhaha...oh whew! That's funny.
27. HAIR COLOR? red
28. EYE COLOR? hazel
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? no
30. FAVORITE FOOD? cheese (did I not already mention this?)
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? No scares please.
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Scent of a woman (I heart Netflix)
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? White t-shirt with NYC on it, given to me by my precious and wonderful sister, CB, who was actually in NYC when she bought it. Too bad I wasn't there buying it for myownself.
34. SUMMER OR WINTER? There are two other seasons besides those two you know. I pick Fall.
35. HUGS OR KISSES? Hugs
36. FAVORITE DESSERT? Cheese
37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? see #38
38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? These are trick questions and I refuse to answer based on good judgement.
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? The Shack
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? coffee cup, red pen, post it note pad and my mouse. If you'd like to know what picture is DRAWN on my mouse pad, it is van Gogh's Starry Night
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? American Idol in fits and starts
42. FAVORITE SOUND(S)? Music
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Why, why, why must we choose? Why? Beatles I guess.
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Washington DC
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I have SO many special talents that I can't even BEGIN to list them here.
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? McComb, MS
47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? Everyone's
48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER? Church
49. IS THE CUP HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY? of cheese? half empty
50. IF YOU COULD SIT DOWN TO DINNER WITH FIVE PEOPLE WHO WOULD YOU CHOOSE? This is also a trick question because if I don't say YOUR name you're likely to de-friend me...but right now at this VERY second I would pick...CB, John Wood (you don't know him beejites), Jon Bon Jovi, Steve Martin and Emma Thompson (and Anthony Hopkins if there was an extra chair)

Morning Music

2009-01-28T06:55:00.004-06:00

Overheard from the bathroom this morning, coming from the mouth of Litkia...sung to the tune of Beethoven's Ode to Joy (or Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee for you churchy types). Spelling here is for rhythm purposes only. SING!

I want to go back to be-ed, but I ca-an no-o-ot.
'Cause I have to go to schoo-ool but I do-on't wa-ant to.
I don't want to go to-oo schoo-ool, be-ca-ause it is bo-or-ing.
I want to go back to be-ed, where it is so comf-terble.

Open Letter

2009-01-26T21:20:00.002-06:00

OPEN LETTER TO THE FEVER BLISTER THAT APPEARED BETWEEN MY NOSE AND UPPER LIP THIS AFTERNOON

Dear fever blister that appeared between my nose and upper lip this afternoon:

I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but I'm just dying to know why in the world you decided to show up completely uninvited today. The things that usually call you from the darkness are stress, a blow to the lip or excessive amounts of sunshine. None of those things was on today's agenda. I think it's sort of rude how you showed up unannounced and settled on a part of my face that's not even your normal place to hang out. Why BETWEEN my lip and my nose? That's just silly. And not like you at all, I might add. Maybe I should give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you don't know what heartache your presence causes. Do you realize I can't kiss my children when you're around? Do you understand that when I wash my face I have to be exceedingly careful not to touch you or disturb you in any way because if I do, you decide to MOVE AROUND? Why do you do that? Mean spirited is what I call it. And you are a pain. I mean literally....you are painful. Do you mean to be this way? Are you aware?

You and I have known each other since I was just a tiny little girl. I don't think I've ever asked you nicely to do what I'm asking you now. I'm asking you to go away. Just leave. Be gone. I know in the past I've tried freezing you out or smothering you in ether and other unmentionable things, but today, I'm just asking sweetly....please go away. If you don't, I'll be forced to write a strongly worded letter to your mother calling you what you really are. A cold sore. I know that stings. Please don't make me do it.

Sincerely,
Beej

And many more, 'til you're 104...

2009-01-23T12:07:00.005-06:00

I am so sick of birthdays. Not my own birthday (obviously), but the birthdays of other people. Kids mostly. When I was little and my birthday rolled around, I usually got to pick what kind of cake I wanted mama to make and there would be some gifts, the singing of happy birthday to me and the blowing out of candles, but that was about it. We may have called that a party, but there was no one there that wasn’t normally sitting at the dinner table. Birthdays were a big deal, but only in a small way. When Pateriko was little I felt pressured by the other mothers of the world to invite teeming masses of people to the house and have the birthday cake match the napkins, but it just never really felt right to me. It seemed over the top to ask people to come over and lavish my child with gifts, just because he’s been living here a whole year since the last time I asked you to bring him offerings. This went on for years and when Litkia was born, I was so fed up with it that I think she’s probably been robbed of today’s proper birthday etiquette. I think I made almost all of her cakes myself instead of hiring that lady down the road to build and decorate one for me (as if her boxed cake mix didn’t come from Wal-Mart just like mine). I just want to know who had the big idea to start all that mess in the first place. It just wasn’t like that when I was little. However, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m kinda starting to wonder if it WAS happening long ago and I just somehow didn’t get to participate. If so…

I call FOUL!

Listy Wednesday - 3 things

2009-01-20T23:52:00.003-06:00

Three things that I did today to help my children succeed:
1. Searched every Mobile County library and called every bookstore in the area searching for a book for a research paper that is not findable.
2. Stayed after school for an extraordinarily long period of time, waiting for my child because he didn't do something he was supposed to do...and it was very important.
3. Went to Walgreen's to develop 10 pictures for a project and got very annoyed by the dude behind the counter.

Three things that I MUST do on Wednesday even if I do nothing else:
1. Clean my tub.
2. Mop the kitchen.
3. Get well.

Three things that do NOT make me UNhappy:
1. Cheese.
2. Witty people.
3. Sparkly stuff.

Three things that make me unhappy:
1. Clogged sinuses.
2. Coughing all night.
3. Medicine that makes me loopy and keeps me awake.

Three things I learned from my mama:
1. Love books.
2. Don't worry until it's time to worry.
3. A house isn't happy without music.

Three things my kids said today:
1. I hope tomorrow isn't so stressful.
2. It's okay mama.
3. Cheese and broccoli soup? Yay!

Three things I always think about doing but never do:
1. Spraying spider webs with spray paint and mounting them on paper.
2. Cleaning up the back yard, filling in the fish pond with dirt and hanging the hammock.
3. Going somewhere. Anywhere.

Things that don't seem to require my immediate attention:
1. I got nothing here.
2.
3.

Pass the Kleenex please

2009-01-18T20:50:00.003-06:00

Have you ever had a moment where you stopped and realized that you felt really good? Nothing was hurting, your sinuses were clear, no aches, no pains, no nothing? And maybe at that moment it occurred to you how lucky you were?

Yeah, that hasn't happened to me today.

Lexington is the size of a postage stamp

2009-01-15T09:01:00.003-06:00

Today Beej is packing and getting ready for a trip to Jackson, Mississippi. From there we'll head to Lexington to attend the funeral of Dirty Larry's mother. She was diagnosed with MS years ago and has had a downhill battle with her disease ever since. It wasn't really a surprise when we got the phone call, but even if you expect something to happen in the near future, sometimes it's a little shocking when it happens in your immediate present. You know?

The first time I ever met her, she was sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette and reading a book. Beside her on the table was the radio which was tuned to a country music station, a pile of books, an ashtray and the phone. The phone was turned toward her and she was perched there in preparation to be the 6th caller to win something they were giving away. The TV was on, but the sound was off. She was watching a country music television station and if Alan Jackson were to appear she would turn the sound back up. She thought he was pretty. This is the picture of her that is etched in my brain and it makes me smile, therefore, this is the picture I choose go to when I think of her. There are other pictures of her in my brain, but you know, I think I'll just file those away and forget them.

Rated PG for brief nudity

2009-01-12T09:32:00.004-06:00

I can accept the quick, get in, get out shower as well as the next fellow, but what I really want is a bath. A bath with deep, very hot water and lots of suds. Sadly, as you probably know by now, I have a problem with staying on task. This is the reason that dinner is burned nightly and my towels sometimes have to be rewashed because they were left in the washer for a couple of days and now bear a funky smell. All this to say that I sometimes start running the bath water and forget what I'm doing. So far, I've never let it go so far as to run over and ruin anything, but what DOES happen more often than not is that the water is way too hot when I get ready to get in. The result is that I step in, find it unbearable and step out immediately. I then turn on the cold water to even things out and step back in, usually way too soon. This second entrance is normally made close to the spigot and if things still aren't acceptable, I hold my ankles with my hands to protect them from the heat. Somehow my hands can deal with the scorch better than the skin of my legs can. As the water becomes a little more tepid, I get lower and lower, crouching like some kind of coward, hoping at some point soon I can sit down and unfold without scalding myself in unmentionable places. I did this very thing this morning. I realized how ridiculous it looked and was thankful nobody was present to see it. I questioned myself about why I don't just wait until things are okay before I get back in and decided that I'm afraid if I walk away again, that overflowing and ruining the floor thing is going to happen. I can't be expected to remember the same thing TWICE, can I? I think not. Besides, I have no clothes on at this point. Should I sit on the lid of the toilet until everything is kosher in the bath? Hot bath water doesn't steam up a room like a hot shower would. I'd freeze. I supposed I could grab a robe but sheesh that seems like a lot of effort when I could just spend the time protecting my ankles.

Morning Conversation with Litkia

2009-01-08T09:31:00.004-06:00

*we get in the car*

Litkia - I'm freezing mama.

Beej - Where's your sweater?

Litkia - It's right here tied around my waist. *points to sweater tied around her waist*

Beej - Well put it on you goofy girl. Sweaters are for keeping a person warm.

Litkia - No...JACKETS are for keeping you warm. Sweaters have holes all in them and are just for making you look pretty.

Beej - I had no idea.

I can't believe I got all the way to 42 years old and didn't know that.

Toothpaste and missing children

2009-01-07T10:28:00.007-06:00

So last night before I went to bed, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I reached down for the toothpaste, but what I picked up was not MY toothpaste, but a strange new toothpaste called Crest Plus Scope. Obviously, someone had not consulted me when they bought new toothpaste. I put it down and looked in the basket again for my Arm and Hammer Fresh Mint but pulled out Dirty Larry's preferred brand, Crest Cinnamon Rush. Once, when my sister was here, she borrowed that toothpaste and came out of the bathroom saying that she felt like she had just brushed her teeth with Big Red gum. Anyway, that tube was smashed flat, which explained the existence of the new toothpaste. After one more fishing expedition I found my tube, but that Crest Plus Scope kept looking at me. I was curious, so I used it. It tasted just like Scope for real.

Yesterday on the radio, John Tesh was talking about toothpaste and he said that using a product that claimed to whiten was a waste of money because it didn't make a hill of beans difference in the color of your teeth, but I say nay. I like using the whitening toothpastes. Who is John Tesh anyhow? He's just a guy who can't make up his mind what he wants to do with his life so he does some TV here and a piano playing CD there and radio show on the side...I only accidentally heard it anyway so I'm pretty sure it doesn't count. Plus he's not really one of the cool kids so I can just dismiss that. (And look! There's the new CHI hairdryer that Dirty Larry got me for Christmas. It's way cool.)

But, do you know who else isn't cool? Doug and Valerie Herrman. WHAT in the WORLD?

Smartypants

2009-01-06T19:27:00.000-06:00

Pateriko: Mama, my teacher told us we had to do a research paper this quarter.

Beej: Oh man.

Pateriko: I know! She said it was going to be the hardest thing we’ve done at this school so far. Even harder than science fair projects.

Beej: Well, it’s a good thing you have me for a mama.

Pateriko: I know!

Beej: You could have some dumb old mama for a mama.

Pateriko: I know! You’re smart!

Beej: I know!

Pateriko: And you’re not even old.

Beej: I know! I’m liking this conversation better and better. Tell me more.

Pateriko: You’ll have to pay for the rest.

New Year but pretty much the same attitude

2009-01-04T22:20:00.004-06:00

I told a friend the other day that I wasn't making any resolutions for the new year. I think my exact words were "I'm not making any resolutions. The health issues have already been tackled and I refuse to be a better person, so, I think that covers it." Since that time, I've had a change of heart. There ARE some things I want to address.

Let's go back to that health issue thing. I don't just resolve to lose 10 more pounds, I VOW to lose 10 more pounds. I've done well so far and the holidays may have stumped me momentarily, but these 10 will come off. I'm so happy with my new found devotion to the gym and I'm so thankful to my friend Angie for being just as devoted as I am. Without her, I think it would be tons harder to motivate myself. This would be Beej tooting her own horn, but my dear Beejites, do you realize that barring Sundays I haven't missed one day at the gym for months unless I was out of the state or taking my mama to the doctor? Well, there was that 1/1/09 mishap, but we aren't counting that one, okay? This is unheard of from the likes of me and I'm very pleased. I'm also very pleased with the results, one of which is that I retired yet another pair of dress pants this morning because they were just too big to wear.

I would also like to address the facebook dilemma. I have come to love facebook for two reasons. First and foremost, I have made contact with many people from my past that make me smile from ear to ear and I wouldn't give anything for this gift to once again be in touch with them. Amongst many others, there is my high school youth pastor and his wife whom I adore with all my heart. I owe these people so much and I'm thrilled to be involved with them again. The second reason is the games. I know. It's silly. But I really love playing Scrabble and Word Twist. But, I mentioned a dilemma right? Bottom line is that I'm losing at Scrabble to Dirty Larry more than I'm winning and Abby, Brandy and Jerry are kicking my butt at Word Twist. Abby seems to be dominant, but they've all had a turn at humiliating me. I think I'll resolve to try harder...to be smarter...to become more brilliant (as if that was even possible). How does one go about doing that? Study the dictionary? Okay then, I'll study the dictionary. If it doesn't work, I'll just pretend that I'm letting them win to increase their self esteem because I'm sweet like that. I can always say my resolution was to try harder to make others happy.

And lastly (and pretty much leastly) I hope to be more persistent in the skin care area. A person who frequents the tanning bed should be more anxious to moisturize. This, however, doesn't seem to fit into my agenda. I'm afraid that I've reached the age where I MUST do this if I don't want to flake off in tiny pieces as I walk around or look like a leather handbag in a couple of years. I truly don't wish for either of these things. I have become a Chanel girl this past year but I don't think they can really offer me anything better than good old Jergens can. You think? My mama's Jergens always smelled like almonds. Do they still make that one? If so, that's the one that will push me to victory in this department. And again, should I fail, I will lean upon the words that I heard tonight at the "Expresso ladies meeting". True beauty is found within. Oh heck, that means I'll have to do that be a better person thing. Crap. I'm not sure I can win this one.

Abby gave me a J

2008-12-27T16:09:00.006-06:00

Abby gave me a "J" for the meme she got from Terri.

I present: "10 thing I like beginning with the letter J" (but not necessarily in the order in which I like them best).

JABBERING - This one gets me in trouble on occasion, but I can't seem to help myself. I do sometimes realize that I'm dominating the conversation, but even then I find it difficult to shut my trap.

JOKING/JESTING - There's a good chance that you wouldn't know this unless you actually got to know me. After that, you should develop a tough skin.

JESUS - Jesus is very cool. If you want to hear more about that you can ask me.

JEWELS - I'm so glad that Dirty Larry used to be in the jewelry business. I got some very pretty things before he left that field. Some of those pieces have extreme sentimental value, like my gold hoops with teeth marks made by my children when they were tiny babies. I could never replace those.

JON BON JOVI - Honesty, I can't imagine why anybody WOULDN'T like this man. He makes cookies and brings them to school for his children and their friends for pete's sake. And then there's that whole "I'll be there for you" thing.

J.R.R. TOLKIEN - This was a brilliant man...AND he was friends with C. S. Lewis, which is just a reflection of his brilliance if you ask me.

JUSTICE FOR GIRLS - This store is a 10-year-old girl's dream place. I like going there and finding exactly the right thing for every girly birthday party within minutes and under $20.

JUSTICE IN GENERAL - I like to see things work out properly, although I admit I don't see that very often. Therefore, when it DOES happen, that makes it even more special.

JAM (NOT JELLY) - Jam spreads so much easier than jelly.

JACKET - I love my brown lamb skin jacket. It is so soft and it smells so good. I'm sorry for the little lamb that gave up it's life in order for me to wear it, but I just try not to think about that. It's a crying shame that I get to wear it so little. For example, today it was 78°. It's December 27th and it's 78°. That's not right.

Merry Christmas to all...

2008-12-23T20:42:00.000-06:00

Just some weekend stuff

2008-12-21T19:39:00.014-06:00

Litkia: Hey mama guess what?
Beej: What?
Litkia: If you don't count today or tomorrow or the next day, it's only ONE DAY 'til Christmas!!

Brilliant.

Guess what happened today? Dirty Larry handed me the final quarter (Tennessee) that Litkia and I needed to complete our set of State quarters. I came VERY close to putting it in its place without Litkia present, but thought better of it and let her do the honors. Now, I'm sure some of you (and of course by "some of you" I mean Coco) are gonna laugh at the fact that I collected all the state quarters, but this sort of activity is RIGHT up my alley. There are a finite number of spaces to be filled and how can anybody resist filling them? I'm so glad I gave up my stamp collecting (shut up) because that was an exercise in futility. Not to mention it was very expensive. There was absolutely no way to fill up the spaces with labels like 1847 - Washington. Just impossible. It still kind of gives me stomach pains when I look at the empty spaces, but I console myself by looking at the large number of pages with no stamps missing. Very satisfying is what that is.

I went to a Christmas party Saturday night at the home of some friends and I talked to many interesting new people and ate yummy food. Dirty Larry and I were the oldest people there and I'm pretty sure we were the only ones there with kids. We were the first people to leave and we got a little flack from the hostess and some of the guests about our 10:00 departure. It seems that these people don't yet understand my way of life. When it happens to them, I'm gonna point and laugh.

Happily, Dirty Larry drove by Bienville Square on the way home so I could take sparkly pics of the thingies hanging from those beautiful, huge oak trees and the fountain (now Christmas tree). It was a nice weekend. Now I face the week with my kids home from school and work still lurking at my desk. Wish me luck. I truly think I'm gonna need it.

Actually they suck

2008-12-19T09:38:00.005-06:00

When this blog lived at Blogdrive, I paid $2.95 a month to remove ads. Paying a little bit also afforded me more space to upload pictures. For a few months I even paid $4.95, but I can't remember why I did that. At any rate, I was paying the $2.95 when I left to begin blogging here. I started blogging there in 2005 and if you've known me for any of that time, you know that they were a constant thorn in my side. I haven't had any response from Blogdrive yet about the old place being disabled, but I'm pretty sure the reason they did it was because I'm no longer paying that small fee and my picture storage is over the limit for the free version (seems I'm using 4886% of the allotted MB). I'm willing to delete pictures, but since the blog is disabled, I can't even see what pictures were posted where. I suppose I could pay again and take the time to do some photo deleting or possibly just grab my content and be done. I'm so frustrated. I'm trying to decide if there was anything written in all that drivel that was worth keeping. (Stories about Daddy...the whole week before he died...the memories I've written about my kids) Is it worth the (huge amount of) time and (seriously huge amount of) effort to do that? Maybe I could take the $2.95/month and give it to a jobless person and hire them to copy and paste for me. Oh wait...I forgot I'll have to pay to get it to even show up. There are over 750 entries there. Impossible. Just impossible.

I've learned a lesson though. If I want to keep any of this stuff, I need to do it as I go. We all know Beej is brilliant and she doesn't like learning lessons. It makes her look like she didn't know something. Beej would much rather the blogdrive people just be good to her and answer her email like a proper business and not like a website run by amateurs. Instead, I get this statement, written to me on the page I visited to submit a trouble ticket, before I ever even began to complain....

"Due to the large number of trouble tickets received, we may not respond to all."

Blogdrive never plays nice.

2008-12-18T20:17:00.003-06:00

What reason can you think of that blogdrive would disable my old blogdrive blog? I go to that page and it says I should contact blogdrive support, but it doesn't offer a way to do that. I did email contact@blogdrive.com but haven't heard anything from them. *SHOCKER* I'm going to refrain from saying anything further about this situation. I choose to wait it out a little bit and see if there is a really great reason that they disabled it and decided not to notify me or give me a chance to make good on whatever is wrong before they did it. Wait...I didn't refrain. Sorry about that. NOT.

Things I did on Saturday

2008-12-13T15:35:00.012-06:00

Made sausage bread and pepperoni bread!

Went to the Christmas parade! (please note the excessive number of moon pies and their various flavors in the parade loot)

Listened to Litikia sing at the lighting of the city's Christmas tree!

I also went to the gym, delivered Christmas presents, helped the kids put the finishing touches on some of the presents they are giving to friends, put the wreaths on the windows, typed some dictation for about 30 minutes, paid bills and took a short, but well deserved and refreshing nap. I do not, however, have pictures of these events.

I'm extremely tired now. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that I was exhausted. I will now go to sleep and try to talk myself into NOT skipping church in the morning as that is what is on my mind at this moment. I'll let you know how that goes. (click on the pics for a GIANT version)

Why Colbie isn't my favorite person anymore

2008-12-12T09:01:00.005-06:00

We went to the Colbie Caillat concert last night and I must say that I left there not loving her as much as I did when I went in. She made me extremely uncomfortable from the moment she stepped onto the stage until the moment that she took her last bow. She wore a black baby doll dress that was so short she couldn't bend over to pick up her water glass. She had to bend her knees to get low enough to pick it up without mooning the entire audience. She kept tugging on the dress at the straps like she was afraid she was gonna fall out and she was perched so precariously on her extremely high heels that I was afraid she was gonna tumble over at any given moment. And of course, the song everyone wanted to hear was the song she just refused to sing. It was maddening. When she waved her hand at the audience and announced "good night everybody", I just thought to myself, "What an attention HOG! She knows we'll all have to scream and holler to get her back out here to sing that song and she just wants to hear us do it." I chose to sit in quiet protest. She did come out for her encore and my LORD she sang something else! She did finally sing "Bubbly" but by the time she did I was so irritated I couldn't even enjoy it.

Good stuff about the concert:

*She really does have a pretty voice.
*Her drummer's t-shirt said "RUN DMC".
*She sang a very acoustic and very lovely rendition of "Killing me Softly" with her guitar player that made me kinda swoon.
*I enjoyed watching Jon McLaughlin, the opening act, beat the living devil out of that piano. I was sure it was gonna splinter into a million pieces. And he couldn't sit on the stool. I don't even know why it was there. Very entertaining. He's like a mix between Ben Folds and Eric Hutchinson.
*I think the Mobile Saenger Theatre is just the prettiest old place. I liked just sitting in there.
*The Bienville Square fountain has miraculously turned into a sparkly lighted Christmas tree for the holidays. Made me smile. Oh wait, that wasn't about the concert...but I saw it walking to the theatre so it counts.

Okay, I can't lie. I had a really good time, but she absolutely needs to try to look more stable and balanced on the stage if you ask me. Just Beej's helpful opinion.

Coco's Christmas Present

2008-12-11T17:12:00.008-06:00

I was sitting in the doctor's office the other day and a poem came out of me. I took the poem along with some pics and made a book from it at Snapfish.com. This book was then given to Coco for Christmas. I wanted to do a slideshow but I got frustrated, so here's the book in blog form. Every verse had a pic, but dang I don't want to load all that stuff...

BEEJ AND COCO

Coco is sassy and sometimes she whines,
She seems to find problems when everything's fine.

But Beej still loves her in spite of it all,
And listens intently whenever she calls.

Back in the day, they made quite a pair,
Hanging at Starbucks and straightening their hair.

Then suddenly Coco moved far away,
Leaving Beej all alone every night and all day.

The laughing, the movies, the fun stuff....all gone,
But the bond that still lingered was sturdy and strong.

How nice to have someone that I can call friend,
Even though you're a big pain, I love you. THE END.

I'm not impressed....or even amused really

2008-12-06T10:17:00.003-06:00

My friend Gnutcase, who never darkens the door of this blog anymore, sent me an interesting article the other day. It seems that I live in a town where it is acceptable to spend $9,000 of the city's money to create a giant Moon Pie that will drop at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve this year instead of a ball. And not only that, but they've hired a bakery in Tennessee to make the world's largest Moon Pie so the partiers will have something to snack on while they wait for the ball...um...Moon Pie to drop. Can you imagine an enormous crowd of people surrounding a giant Moon Pie and everybody trying to get a piece? That is so very nasty. And whose gonna clean that mess up afterwards? We're talking MARSHMALLOW people. Again, tres nasty.

I do understand the significance of the Moon Pie to this fair city; truly I do. But, I think this may be taking things a tad too far. I'm already embarrassed about the fact that my children scream MOON PIE at all the parades (even the Christmas parade) to get the people riding on the floats to throw them. This is the behavior of the average citizen and I've always sort of made fun of them for it. My kids are learning strange things.

I didn't grow up here and I do NOT do that. I'm not saying I wouldn't eat one if it happened to land beside me or if I caught it because it was hurdling through the air directly at my face. But scream for one? No. Besides, if you're standing in a bad place there's a good chance they won't throw anything but the banana flavored ones. Can you say "puke"?

The wrapping paper even looks like it's fading...

2008-12-02T12:29:00.003-06:00

My children have lots of stuff. The stuff tends to take over their rooms like the falling leaves have taken over my front yard and we wind up raking the excess stuff up in a pile for burning. Okay, we don't really burn the stuff. But there was the leaf analogy going and I didn't want to mess it up. We take the stuff to a charity, ok? Anyway, they have everything they need and most of what they want. When my kids decide they want something new, and I decide against it, they sometimes do something that I despise. They beg and plead. I have to say that this truly doesn't happen very often because they know I'll turn a deaf ear. If they do stoop to begging they quickly remember that it leads nowhere...nowhere good anyway.

So, as an adult (who has everything she needs and most of what she wants and who should know better), why is that I beg and plead with the air? Do I think the air is going to help me out in some way? Do I think my incessant moaning to the atmosphere will cause my wishes to be granted? It started out as prayer, but I guess I felt like a bratty kid and that God may not look favorably on all that whining. As time has moved forward, it has turned into a kind of pleading with the breathable molecules in my immediate vicinity. Did you ever read "Frannie and Zooey"? Yeah, kinda like that.

I'm pretty sure I quit talking to God about it because I realized I was asking God for mercy that He had already supplied. Only thing is that he supplied it in a way different than what I wanted, and like a spoiled brat, I turned my nose up and sort of refused to accept it. Now, I'm just talking to the air while looking at my mercy present sitting in the corner collecting dust. Wonder what will have to happen to get me to go open it.

Thanksgiving Recap

2008-11-30T22:05:00.009-06:00

The kids and I had a great time in Tennessee over the Thanksgiving holiday. The food was great and everybody seemed to be in a good mood and on their best behavior. We played some dominos, did some hiking and went to a double feature at the drive-in in the freezing cold. All of it was fun. My sister is a great cook. I wonder where she got that from. I don't cook. I burn stuff. Maybe I wasn't paying attention way back when. She inspires me to try harder, but whether or not I will remains to be seen.

So here are some pics from the trip because it's not my blog if I can't bore you with the details.

Here are the cousins minus one and plus a boyfriend, zombied out playing video games. This seemed to happen quite a bit. They never even knew I was there.

Here's the domino game after Thanksgiving dinner and before the pies were eaten. I won 2 out of 4 games. I think that makes me the official wiener. That's my brown sleeve at the bottom left. My mama is top left. My brother-in-law's brother is next to her. This guy named Dennis from Jamaica is across from Mom (he's 65...he doesn't look 65 does he?). The others you can't see, but there were 7 of us playing. That's my sister's hand bottom right. She's cute huh?

Here we have the cousins perilously near death at the Fiery Gizzard Trail. What a beautiful place. We hiked about 2 miles or so, but for some reason it seemed to be all uphill.

These are the crazy people that sat in the back of the truck for the drive in movie. It started raining and they were forced to move into a car before the second movie started, but they braved the cold for as long as possible. We saw Bolt, which I thought was just great. The second feature was High School Musical 3 and I have to admit I fell asleep. The kids were in a different car, and they had no desire to see that one so they just tuned the radio station to the movie playing behind them (Madagascar - Escape 2 Africa) and turned around and watched that one.

And finally, me and my sister. This is not CB, this is the other one. CB was in Spain as mentioned in a previous blog entry. She was a lovely hostess. It was good to spend time with her. And yes, I am wearing a Sponge Bob shirt that I stole from Pateriko, which was given to him by Coco, who got it from who knows where.

A good time was had by all.

I missed the gym while I was gone. Isn't that weird? I was antsy, thinking about all the food I was eating and all the exercise I was missing. Tomorrow will be difficult I think, but I'm pumped. Let's see if I can drop a couple of pounds this week. Go Beej!

The day before the day

2008-11-26T07:33:00.004-06:00

Good morning allayall. Just wanted to say that Tennessee is a freakin' cold state. I also wanted to share a little pre-Thanksgiving happiness in the form of artwork. The above picture is a Turkey that Litkia had to dress in a disguise for Thanksgiving. Her assignment also included writing a story to go along with it, describing how this disguise saved the Turkey from certain demise at the hands of hungry Thanksgiving revelers. She dressed it as a ballerina and in the story, took it to dance class and hid it amongst the many dancers to save it's turkey life. Please note the tiara.

Happy day before the day. Good luck with all the preps!

What Beej is thinking on Monday morning

2008-11-24T08:46:00.003-06:00

Oh man. I just saw a deer cross the road and run into the woods less than a block from my house. I always knew they were there but I've never really seen one so close and at a time that wasn't dawn or dusk. Very nice.

In other news, we're packing up over here in Beej's world. After school tomorrow I'm taking my maternal figure and my two child-types to Tennessee to spend the remainder of this Thanksgiving week with my sister and her family. We are all very excited except for the fact that Dirty Larry is being left behind to fend for himself. Retail employment has been a constant thorn in my side for approximately 18 years. Dirty Larry tends to be left out when it comes to holidays. My friend told me she would bring him a plate on Thanksgiving Day. I am appreciative. I also appreciate the fact that he has a job, even if it sometimes gets in the way of my fun.

I will also say that I am not in any way jealous of my OTHER sister, CB, who is spending Thanksgiving on the island of Mallorca. Who cares about Spain? Not I said the cat. What...ever.

One more thing. I got on the elliptical trainer at the gym this morning for the first time, expecting to last about 2 minutes, but made it 15. I must admit that my legs kinda felt like Jell-O when I was done but I was kinda proud and very surprised. Yay for me!

Time for coffee!

Peaceful, satisfying things

2008-11-20T10:31:00.004-06:00

After spending time looking at that original snowflake posted down there on this blog somewhere, something just wasn't sitting right with me about it. Turns out (according to the pattern) that it has one point more than it should have. I've been practicing a little and I think I'm doing better, although I can definitely see places on every snowflake that make me wonder what was going on in my head while I was working on it. Maybe the untrained eye will never know the difference and they will pass Christmas tree inspection. At any rate, my crochet therapy is working wonders and I feel a mystical peace while I'm working....except for those times when I'm scrunching up my nose, cursing and ripping out stitches because I screwed something up.

Also...

There is nothing worse than having a song stuck in your head all day and being unable to remember all the words, or how the tune goes. It's the most peaceful, satisfying feeling evAR when you can finally come to a place where you can find the song and listen to it in its entirety. It's like relief. Niiiiice.

It is also a very peaceful and satisfying moment when you know your Christmas shopping is all done and now you can just sit back and enjoy the holiday, drinking hot cocoa around the fire and listening to the carolers singing pleasant songs at the window. Too bad that peace never shows up over here until about December 24th. I should really start thinking about making a shopping list.

One more thing. Peaceful is the moment when Beej has caught up at work. I really hope to feel THAT peace this evening, but I'm not holding my breath. You see, I seem to be playing wordtwist at facebook and blogging about crocheting instead of working. This is a dilemma and it requires that I muster all my determination to work toward peace instead of entertainment. So far....nope.

Let's put a positive slant on it...

2008-11-18T22:25:00.007-06:00

I've been thinking about how to remember my Daddy on this day. I went back and read all my blog entries from that horrible week two years ago when I sounded so hopeful on Tuesday and ended up so devastated on Sunday. That's the kind of action that causes Beej to spiral downward into the funk of all funks. So, I tried thinking of the happiest things about my Daddy. Oddly enough, quite a lot of them involved his relationships with people other than me. He had a way about him that drew people to him like crazy. He was real.

Real crazy.

This isn't the best picture of any of these three people, but since it's nearly Thanksgiving, I'll post it and explain. Every year, my Daddy took my kids out to "shoot" a turkey for Thanksgiving. They would drive to the grocery store where he gave them rubber bands so they could "shoot" turkeys until they got the one they wanted. It was a tradition. A strange tradition, but a tradition nevertheless, and they all took it very seriously. I'm not sure what's up with those hats, but I'm almost 100% positive they were his idea. Daddy desperately wanted to be remembered. He would truly want us to cry and be sad on this day. And before you try to convince me that he'd never want us to be sad, let me just tell you not to waste your breath, because he absolutely did. He went miles and miles out of his way to make memories for all of us and even if we were to TRY to forget him (as if we would) his presence is so strong in everything we do that it would be completely impossible. I can't even turn the steering wheel on the car without being reminded of him. He spent a very large portion of his existence on this earth coming up with ways to exist in all our hearts long after he was no longer on this earth...and I'll say he did a bang up job of that.

Sadly, some people will never know a Daddy like mine. Instead of thinking I've been robbed, today I'll try to remember how blessed and lucky we were to have him as long as we did.

Just some stuff...

2008-11-16T20:17:00.006-06:00

Remember when I told you that I was allergic to my Victoria's Secret Underwear? Turns out I'm not the only one. Read about it here. I'm unsure what to do about it. My guess is that I'll do absolutely nothing besides never buy from them again.

I spent a large portion of my evening burning various fabrics in the backyard. It's science fair project time you know. Sadly, I now smell sort of like burned silk, which by the way is a foul, unhappy smell. Cotton on the other hand...I could do that all night. Did I mention that Beej was a pyro? 'Cause I meant to.

My throat hurts.

I have officially lost 21 pounds now. I'd like to thank Abby, Deirdre and Olliedog for the way they inspired me to move. I will only thank Dirty Larry for liking me no matter what I look like as he doesn't seem to care to a bit.

This is an especially hard week for the Beej. It's a week for reflecting and remembering and wishing. I choose not to be in a funk, but it is a choice that will require some serious personal pushing to accomplish.

Did I mention my throat hurts?

Everybody's a comedian, even Domino's

2008-11-15T16:40:00.007-06:00

The family ordered Domino's pizza last night for dinner. This morning I was disassembling the pizza box and folding it up in an effort to reduce the space it would take up in the garbage can. I turned it over to the bottom and found this...

Maybe I'm easily amused but it made me laugh. I searched the rest of the box and wasn't disappointed to find...

So everybody's a comedian. The bad thing is that some comedians are funnier than others. Some comedians are fresh every time they present their material, but Domino's has already lost their edge. This box is only funny the FIRST time you notice all the fine print. It will never again, catch me off guard and make me smile. If they REALLY want to be funny, they'll have to try a little harder. Maybe the delivery guy should do a little routine at the door while he waits for his tip. Heck, I don't know. I never claimed to be funny...just brilliant.

Blind Beej

2008-11-13T08:58:00.007-06:00

Lookie what I made. (I feel the need to insert here that it is a snowflake, just in case you can't figure it out) I know it's a little whopsided, but it's my first attempt. Maybe the next one will be better. Last week, Evie made me want to pick up crocheting again, so I have. My afghan is getting bigger (that's the very BROWN thing under the whopsided snowflake) and I'm trying my hand at some new stuff. I'm just learning as I go. I forget sometimes how VERY therapeutic creating things can be. Bad news is that last night before I went to bed I thought my eyes would never focus again. All that close work is blinding me. I've never had this trouble before and I'm assuming my over 40-ness is now catching up with me. I'm going to the Dollar General and buy some cute $5 granny reading glasses and see if that settles my problem, however, I'm unsure if "cute" and "$5" are actually compatible terms. We shall see. Oh! Haha...we shall SEE...get it?

Yeah, it's been a slow morning and the coffee wasn't all that good because I made it myself. The $4.09 kind at Moka's is much, much better, but I'm feeling awfully indulgent about throwing my hard to come by dollars away on a happiness that only stays with me for about an hour. I go there way too often. It's bad enough that all I have to do is drive up to the window or walk in and if the nice, nice lady sees me ahead of time, she's already fulfilling what she knows will be my order. Yesterday, I drove up to the window and she just handed it out before I could even tell her what I wanted. See now? That is service. BUT...my plan is to figure out the proper coffee making procedure and learn to do it myself. And again, after I get those glasses...we shall see.

Bringing Shame Upon My Family Unit

2008-11-11T10:04:00.004-06:00

I'm afraid I'm becoming "one of them". You know them. They are the Moms who roll out of bed looking like whodathunkit, and go out into the world for everyone to see, still looking like that. The worst of them wear their pajamas into Walgreens in the morning and don't even look ashamed. I'm not that bad....yet, but I'm giving myself a good scare. I've always been the type to get completely dressed with makeup and everything before I present myself to the world, and I have been known to point and laugh at those who don't. I'm a redhead. I have no eyelashes to speak of unless I paint them on. I look sickly and faceless without makeup. I never want to scare the general public, but lately (and by lately I mean since the middle of September) I've decided that all I need is a little mascara and a little shine on my lips and I'm outta there! It's the gym's fault. I think it's totally unnecessary to get completely dressed just to sweat it all off and then go home, shower and get dressed all over again. What a waste of time and effort (and water and makeup). In my defense, I go to the gym at 7:30 and there are usually exactly two people in there. One of them is a close friend and the other is a total stranger. I know I look bad because the mirrors on every wall in there tell me so. I just find that I'm having trouble caring anymore. Once in the past 8 weeks I even picked up Pateriko from school in the afternoon in THE SAME CLOTHES I WORKED OUT IN. Don't anybody have an intervention for me. The first step is admitting you have a problem and I'm already there. Give me some time. I'll work it out.

Listy Sunday Morning Listy

2008-11-08T15:37:00.007-06:00

In the last 36 hours I have...

Watched all 15 episodes of 30 Rock, Season 2.
Cleaned the kitchen 5 times.
Finished watching the last 2 episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Season 6.
Reminded myself how to crochet an afghan in "the round" (except it's a rectangle) and added approximately 18, um...rounds. I obviously don't know the terminology.
Washed, dried and folded 4 loads of laundry.
Typed 11 patient progress notes for work with the end result being that I can say I'm now completely caught up.
Laughed about some extremely funny stuff.
Cried about some extremely not funny stuff.
Added 5 new people to my facebook friends.
Successfully, firmly encouraged my children to clean their rooms. (Read: Yelled until they got it done).
Played dominoes with my kids by candlelight during a power outage.
Watched "High Fidelity" and wrote down some quotes from it like "Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?" and "I guess it made more sense (to me) to commit to nothing and keep my options open. And that's suicide by tiny, tiny increments." I'm unsure exactly why I did this except that I remember Coco and I doing it all the time.
Watched "The Full Monty" and "The Piano", but didn't write a thing down about either of those.

My eyes are kinda hurting now. I don't wonder why. Maybe I should lay off the electronics and crocheting tomorrow. Maybe just a nap? Mmhmm.

Pots, pods, whatever

2008-11-08T13:29:00.003-06:00

Saturday afternoon conversation in the kitchen at the house of Beej:

Beej: You guys need to unload this dishwasher.
Pateriko: Okay.
Litkia: Okay.
*work commences, but slowly Pateriko gets off track and starts playing with the water in the sink*
Litikia: *loudly* Mama! Pateriko isn't helping me!
Pateriko: *loudly* YES I am. I'm cleaning this stuff in the sink.
Beej: Pateriko, quit playing in the sink and help your sister.
Litkia: Pateriko, you are so mean.
Pateriko: Well so are you.
Litkia: Nu uh.
Pateriko: Yes huh.
Beej: You guys are two peas in a pod.
Litkia: *Rolls her eyes* Mama, it's two peas in a POT not a POD. *starts laughing*
Pateriko: *Looks at me in disbelief and starts laughing and pointing at his sister*
Beej: Aw man, Litikia. I'm sorry. It's two peas in a POD. Do you know what a pod is?
*Beej explains the expression to her brilliant daughter*
Beej: I guess you guys know I'll be blogging this conversation.
Litkia: Noooooo....
Beej: It's okay, I'll pretend like it was Pateriko who didn't know any better.
Litkia: Oh okay then.
Pateriko: Nooooo!!

Poor kids. They can't say anything that doesn't get broadcast to the entire four people who still read this blog. Bless their little punkin hearts.

3 Wishes

2008-11-04T07:37:00.003-06:00

If I could have 3 wishes...

#1 - That people would do what I said to do, when I said to do it and how I said to do it.
#2 -

Wait...is that one or three all mixed together? No matter. #1 seems to cover it.

Go vote today. I'll be casting my vote for McCain for a long list of reasons, some of which seem to be more worthy than others, but we all know I don't talk about that stuff here. Just go vote your convictions as it is your right and your duty.

Happy Tuesday my peeps!

Jack-o-lanterns 2008

2008-11-01T12:29:00.002-05:00

Mario of Nintendo fame and The Cheatball from Homestarrunner.com

Oscar Wilde Week #5 - The Truth Hurts

2008-10-31T08:42:00.008-05:00

* The reasons for today's handwritten entry can be found HERE and HERE.

(click the pic to make it bigger if you're old and blind...or even if you're not)

Oscar Wilde Week #4 - Self Esteem

2008-10-30T00:10:00.005-05:00

"The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else, and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated." -Oscar Wilde

Yeah...I really don't think I'll be expounding upon today's quote. All the stuff I could say is likely to land me in big trouble. We all know Beej thinks pretty highly of herself and has taught her offspring to do the same. I will say that this Oscar was a sassy fellow...yes?

Here's a bonus pic from the Fall Funtastic. Litkia makes a great pirate.