Merry merry

Here's wishing all my dear friends out there in blog land all the joys of the season and a prayer for peace in the New Year!

See you in January!

How Do You Measure the Life of a Cub Scout

38 Den mayhems...er I mean meetings
38 Pack Attacks....uhm yeah that would be meetings
10 Campouts or as I like to call them "male slave labor enrichment week-ends"
7 Badges ie this is a test...can your mommy sew????
$400 in dues A pretty darn good investment for the buck I must say
4 caps Cause you aren't about to pass it down to your younger brother
4 kerchiefs ditto
4 handbooks The roadmap to badge heaven
Endless emails, telephone calls, planning sessions, craft projects, snack coordination

I was Den Mommy, which is another way of saying, there was an "official" Den Leader Daddy and I told him what to do.

HEH

All kidding asie, I got a little (okay, OKAY a lot) misty tonight. It was the last official organized (and I use that term VERY loosely) meeting of our den before the boys move on to Boy Scouts in February.

This is a TIGHT group. There's only 6 of them and they all want to move on to a troop together and work towards Eagle. They are good kids. And good friends.

And along the way, the parents have helped each other through divorce and sickness and loss of jobs and all the other day to day crap that life throws at you.

The old saying "You get more than you give"????

Word.

In his own words

from Thumper's lips (with some editing because that boy can TALK) to my tippy typey fingers...here is how he describes how we made a special family heirloom ornament

(note to gentle readers...it was his book report for December and MAYBE I will post a pix if I can figure out how to download it!)

How to Make a Bouche De Noel Ornament


I really wanted to make a Bouche de Noel to bring to class. My mom’s family is French. A Bouche de Noel is a cake that they made at Christmas and my mom does the same thing.

But I didn't get to make a treat. I got an ornament. Mom said we should make a Bouche de Noel ornament to hang on our tree. That way if she doesn’t want to make the cake one year, we can still have a Bouche de Noel. We just can’t eat it!

You need a bunch of stuff. You need brown felt and white felt, fabric glue, holly stickers, a brown marker, a needle and some gold thread. My mom already had lots of this stuff. If your mom doesn't, you have to go to Michael's or Joann's because they have coupons and they have the stuff.

OKAY.

First you put the brown felt down on a table and then you put the white felt on top of it so every thing matches up. It may be a little messy but that's ok.

Second, you cut the felt in a square that is 4 inches by 4 inches. My mom measured and says that's the size and you have to use your ruler!

Third, you put a whole bunch of fabric glue on the white felt (but first you have to cut the top of the glue bottle off or else the glue won't come out) and roll it up (have your mom help because you have to roll kind of tight) and let the glue dry.

Fourth, cut off a little bit of the log at the end and glue the it on on top of the log. Mom had to cut it off becuse the glue was hard and I couldn't cut it off.

Fifth, you put the leaf stickers on the hump and draw on the log with the marker so it looks like bark. I don't know.....the lines are kinda gone and I got gunk on my fingers.

Sixth, you have your mom put some of the gold thread on a really big needle and make a loop from one end of the log to the other end and make a knot at both ends.

Last, hang your ornament on your tree. It doesn’t taste good, but it looks good!!

Granted, I helped him come up with the idea, but how he described the process cracked me UP.

I think I may have a future ARTISTE in da house! Or an accountant because he was oh so VERY precise with the ordering. OK...he might also be OCD, but he comes by it honestly.

"Mom. You are putting this in order right? And you are typing first and second and third...RIGHT? Because if someone wants to make one, I don't want them to MESS UP! You are doing this right....RIGHT???"

OY

The lights...they do twinkleth

I am in a decidedly more upbeat mood today.

Which is really quite amazing considering I spent three hours on my ass on a hard porch on Sunday wrapping a GAZILLION lights around a reindeer the size of a small elephant that required pre-assembly.

WHEW...run on sentence anyone?

But the reindeer? He is VERT puhrty and he sparkles much. Afterwards, I had to go take a shower because I was so hot and sweaty. Hard work and 73 degrees in mid December will do that to you. BUT....I could hear the yelps of joy from Thumper and BamBam over the running water as they arrived back from baseball practice and discovered the incarnation of Dasher on the deck in full blinged out glory.

YES.I did say baseball practice. I'll explain that one in a later post.

I can't say Jake the dog was all too enamored of my hard work though. He does not like deer. They invade his territory and he is very vocal in his displeasure.

But Jake...he is not only veddy, veddy puhrty. But also very smart. Because he intuitively recognized that this was not the real deal. However, on principle, he felt compelled to mutter at the deer the entire time I was putting it together.

HEE

And in other decorating news, the house...she be decked...fully!

Thumper and BamBam were EXCELLENT assistants this year and for once I didn't collapse from sheer exhaustion at the end of the day!

WOOT! Now if I could just enlist their help in finishing the Christmas shopping my season would be complete!

Letting go

I am back from the memorial service for the mom of Thumper's good friend.

We were fellow Aquarians (yes I am a total nut job and think that kind of stuff has MEANING) Our sons were born just a month apart. I could be her. She could be me.

I cried. I laughed. All the thing you should do at a memorial service.

It was beautiful by the way. There were so many people who came that they had to move the service from the small chapel to the main sanctuary. The sanctuary of the largest Presbyterian church in the whole freaking free world mind you. No seriously. this church....it is it's own CITY!

And I realized looking around me that there can be no greater testimony to a life well lived and loved than to have it filled with people who will take time out of their busy holiday/workday schedule and spend an hour giving thanks for a beautiful soul.

And so I sit in my house that STILL has fall decorations up and only a naked tree in it's water filled stand and I am at peace.

Now gentle readers....that is a HUGE statement from the lips of my former Type A, perfectionist self of years past.

Me of the Christmas cards in the mail the day after Thanksgiving

Me of the homemade gingerbread house in all it's mammoth glory

Me of the two trees and a house decorated to the nines by the first week-end in December.

The me of today is content and at peace. Just to be. And the ornamentation and deorations and time tables and schedules. And do's and not do's be damned.

I'd rather feast on FUNdue tonight in front of my naked tree watching Johnny Depp ET AL in POCIII with my family than stress about the details.

The big picture is far more satisfying...savvy?

Wooooshhhhhhhhhhh

The lights are on. Somebody is home. She just isin't answering the door.

The mother of one of Thumper's best buds died last week after a long battle with breast cancer.

To say that she was a bright light that made everyone feel warm and cozy and beautiful and smart and loved and special doesn't really begin to scratch the surface.

I am juggling wildly disparate emotions/tasks/thoughts

a) Being horribly and terribly afraid of the same happening to me and leaving my sons motherless

b) Making a memory quilt for her son and the requisite yelling and cursing and throwing of bobbins that always follows

c) Being unbelievably freakin happy that I am not sick and neither or my children

d) Seriously pissed that such a beautiful bright light isin't here to give me (or her family) a big huge hug in the middle of the Mellow Mushroom pizza joint

e) Comforted by the huge swell of love and support that flows and swirls around the ones she left behind

Give the ones you love a hug tonight. And if they aren't physically there. Pick up the phone and call.

Life is short, but Love is sweet.

Peace my peeps.

I believe in you

random affirmations in the past week

from BamBam

"Mommy. You should have your own cooking show on Food Network. Really. You are funny and you know how to talk in front of people and you can REALLY cook good. So can't you send in a tape or something?"

from Thumper

"Mommy...PLEEEEEEEEEEZ enter 'Who Wants to be a Milionaire' I mean come ON...you get all the way to the 50 thousand question EVERY time without using ANY lifelines. Man.... 50 thousands bucks....we could SO get a flat screen TV!!!"

from my oldest friend

"Duh. It's called a gift. What are you awiting for?"

I don't know. What am I waiting for?

People I love? I guess they see things in me that obviously I can not. Or don't want to because I like the status quo. Or just maybe my significant others in life are watching WAY too much TV!

Me? I like safe. familiar. steady. constant.

So do I hold on

or let go

Do

or not do

Where the hell is Yoda when you need him???!!!

Last Minute #$%^

CRAP

I need to be:

1) Packing. I have a suitcase. I have clean clothes. But I do not have a game plan for what I am to wear over the next three days, ERGO..I do not have a packed suitcase. Nor do my children for that matter. This surprises you???

2) Finishing up my mom's birthday present, ie pages for her mini "ode to the wonderfulness that is my mom" scrapbook album.

Have I mentioned or has anyone noticed that I don't do that all so much anymore??? If you look closely you can see the tendrils of smoke coming out of my ears as I attempt to engage my creative gears.

3) Coloring my hair. I haven't seen my brother in almost three years. These are NOT random observations or comments. I love him mightily, but I would like to give him one less point of discussion in the ole sibling rivaly game.

Okay I really, really, really am outta here

to do

1,2,3

3,2,1

2,3,1

YOu guess...which order did I go for????

No worries or prejudging...I have no freakin clue myself!

20 years and counting

Married 20 years in June. No wait, I already bloooooged about that...so what could the random blogging queen be talking about now you may wonder? Or not, but I'm GOING to tell you anyway!

Last Thursday I celebrated 20 years with my firm. Yep. Boggles my mind. They're having a PAHTAY for me this afternoon! The boss gave me some champers last week which I shared with my girlies at my supper swap...WEEHOO! Oh and a parking spot. I'm supposed to get a designated parking spot. SWEET...I can actually DRIVE to some neat places for lunch and not be relegated to the "LOSER" lot offsite!

People are alternately amazed or puzzled. What can I say? I'm a loyal person. You treat me right, I'll work my ass off for you. Obviously they did and I did, so we did and here we are 20 years later.

ON to another topic.

Shopping

Yes, I did that ALL day on Saturday. Let me first recommend that if you are going to be shopping all day at an outdoor mall the size of Texas you may NOT want to wear clogs with thin socks. Dogs barking doesn't even really begin to describe it. More like a thundering herd or horde of ravenous and rabid flea bitten canines.

And what do I have to show for the misery? EHHH Not that much. I got the kids lots of clothes, some they'll get for Christmas and some for the trip on Wednesday to Indiana where it's supposed to be a HIGH of 46. Now. That ought to be interesting. We're Southerners. We don't do cold. Our brains may just freeze off and fall out of our heads.

But no toys. See here's the thing. They've kind of outgrown "traditional" toys and have moved on to wanting "grown up, ridiculously expensive toys" like Ipods and flat screen TV's and the like.

Now there's a lot I really appreciate about private schools, but the one thing that I REALLY dislike (with the burning intensity of a thousand suns) is the residual effect that the affluent descendants of Thurston Howell the Third are having on my kids.

ME: "No honey, I'm sorry.

You can not have a flat screen TV for your bedroom.

Why?

Because not only do Mommy and Daddy not have a TV in THEIR bedroom, we don't have one SINGLE flat screen TV in the entire house.

So you might want to check with the bookies in Vegas, but I'm pretty sure your chances of getting a flat screen TV from Santa are between hell freezing over and when dogs fly"

Call me old fashioned, but I am just generally opposed to my children having any high tech, high priced piece of technology that I don't have myself.

And if I don't have it myself, then OBVIOUSLY in my eternal mommy wisdom it is not necessary for THEM to have said item.

Note to those keeping track. This is an extension of the primary directive "If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy"

YEEESHHH

Righty-oh....well I'm off.

I'll blog upon my return from the Hoosier state. Guaranteed.

Funny stories ALWAYS follow my return from the Hoosier state.

I attribute it to the air. Or at the very least...the ground water. Or the in-breeding. Whoops. Did I just SAY that???

Gobble, gobble.

Random thoughts

Not much here to report peeps. Soo I thought I would enterain you (or me!) with my random observations for the day

1) Why do I like dinner for breakfast? Seriously, metloaf sounds really good right now. Oh wait, it's close to lunch. maybe THAT'S why it sounds good!

2) Teenagers have entirely TOO active social lives these days. Teenage babysitters on the week-end...FOHGETABOUDIT.

3) I am going Christmas shopping. Next week. OY. It boggles my mind.

4) If you were in a supper swap would a crab/artichoke dip in a bread bowl sound like something you would enjoy? It sounds good to me. Maybe I can make THAT for lunch!

5) I need to go to the library and return books. And check out something for myself. My brain cells are atrophying by the second. I'm thinking Social Studies and science test reviews and the endless stream of medical records I have to summarize are not keeping my mind limber. But they are an EXCELLENT alternative to a sleeping pill!

That is all...happy week-end peeps!

Ten things I love about Co

I have this friend named Co. She posts here. And I "heart" her. Not just because she posts here (HAH) but because once upon a time almost three years ago, we both held our breaths and jumped from the internet to real life.

One of the smartest and best things I've ever done in the friendship arena.

So in honor of her birthday, here's my little tribute to her!

TOP TEN THINGS i LOVE ABOUT CO!


1. You make me laugh. Hard! Remember when I fell off the chair at Mardi Gras? It had ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with the amount of libations ingested. No, seriously don't you remember? You told that joke about the priest, the rabbi and the atheist in a bar??!!

2. You keep it real. No bullshit from this chick. You're the real deal.

3. You make me think. My world view has become so much broader and richer since we met. Thank you for that.

4. You are a rockin good hostess. Never underestimate the power of the "PAHTAY"!

5. You are, as my boys would say, "babalicious" I like to think that the shiny sparkly power of your hotness rubs off onto me by sheer power of association. What? I can dream can't I?

6. You are one of the kindest people I have ever met. Even when keeping it real, you still manage to do it in a way that makes the recipient of the reality check feel ever so good about themselves. I think we should pitch you to the networks for your own self help show because Dr. Phil is grating on my very last nerve.

7. I love how fearless you are. You are like the poster girl for "You only go around once, live it well!"

8. You can rock the written word and the camera like nobody's business.

9. You are unfailingly loyal to those who hold your trust. A rare gift these days.

10. Last, but certainly not least. You are my friend. And that means the world to me.

Happy day of your birth chick. Live it well!

The Candy Caper - Part Two

A very enterprising mom (not moi!) came up with a grand scheme to get rid of our unwanted, excess candy!

As of today we have cut our load of candy in half by

1) Giving the non-chocolate items to her to ship to a friend who is serving in Iraq. He shares some of it with his buddies, but the rest they hand out to kids during their patrols. She shipped 60 lbs...the mind boggles!

2) The chocolate went to our neighborhood fire stations. We now have some very happy and hyped up first responders!

My kids still have a respectable stash and have the warm fuzzies that comes from sharing their "wealth"

Happy Monday peeps!

The Candy Caper

or "How I lost my candy because I tried to outwit my parents: A Tale in Two Parts"

TALE of the First Part

Halloween has come and gone and all that remains for my little goblins are:

1) Two ghoul masks with the remnants of fake blood drying within their drip chambers

The masks are on the back porch lying on the table. They freak Jake the dog out and the kids are not allowed to wear them around him. Or me for that matter. They freak me out too. But Dad thought they were "cool" so set one to Dad.

2) 15 pounds, yes you read that right!!! FIFTEEN freakin pounds of potential insulin shock, rotting teeth and hyperactivity all packaged in very pretty and colorful wrappings.

The candy is underneath our bed and here is where the REAL story picks up.

So we get home VERY late from trick or treating. We all had a GRAND time. No seriously. The kids walked about 3 miles through every street of our sprawling neighborhood, collected one massive haul of goodies and had a night of plundering with their friends, dubbed "The Boys in Black" because every single one of them wore some ghoulish black get up.

We have found that the oldest will trick or treat as long as he looks "Cool" and not like a "baby"

Did I mention he's 11?

Of course the 9 year old had to follow suit.

Ah the dynamics of sibling rivalry!

But back to the candy.

So we get home, it's too late to sort the loot, we're all wiped out so I told the boys to leave the candy in the trunk and we would go through it when they got home from school.

Everyone falls into bed exhausted.

(fade to black)

TALE of the Second Part

The next morning, the ghouls? I had to blast them out of bed.

Of course we are running late because we overslept.

The boys did manage to beat their dad to the car though and got their bookbags and instruments loaded into the trunk.

I wave them off and then proceed to do what I do every morning, which is to run around and turn off all the lights in the house.

NOW

I had ALREADY been down in the basement once that morning to turn off the table lamps they had left on ALL night long.

(Yes, Hi Georgia Power? Do you have some kind of gizmo that I can attach to the lights in the house, you know something with an audio feature that will PROMPT the turning off of lights? I'm thinking of something along the lines of "HEY we're not made of money here. Turn the lights off or I'm taking away your TV privileges!" No? You don't have ANYTHING like that? Well all I can say is that you are missing a PRIME marketing opportunity! Hello? Hello?)

Sorry, I digressed. You still with me?

anywhoo, I am turning off all the lights and I see that the lights are on in the basement AGAIN!

So...grumble, grumble, stomp, stomp (see I can out teen a teen!) down the steps I go again.

SEQUE TO LUNCH

I get a call form my hubby unit telling me he is at home and has opened the trunk of his car to take the candy out and low and behold the candy, it has disappeared, vanished, without a trace.

DH thinks the kids have stashed it in their bookbags and taken it to school.

I tell him no way they could get away with 15 pounds of candy in their book bags. While the bags are GINORMOUS even they could not hold that AND books.

DH...he is not happy. That sneaky stuff drives him nuts. I tell him he needs to take a chill pill and learn to laugh, because if he doesn't? There will not be enough high blood pressure meds in the world to deal with the teenage years.

SEQUE TO DRIVE TO CARPOOL

LIGHTBULB moment!

That light being on AGAIN in the basement? Those little stinkers took the candy and stashed it in the basement while we were running around upstairs that morning!

So I make a detour home, go downstairs and SURE ENOUGH, there it sits in all it's bulging glory in the closet.

HAH! Set Two to Mommy (for those of you keeping score at home)

Seeing a golden opportunity for some mischief of my own, I take the candy, stash it under my bed and pick up the kids as usual.

The kid get home and of course the FIRST thing they want to do is PLAY in the basement.

HEE!

"Sure guys, you deserve a little downtime now that football season is over. I'll give you an hour!"

Cheers all around as they race to "play"

THEN SILENCE!

BWAHAHAHAHA

"What the? HUH?"

Thundering feet back upstairs.

"Uhmmm, Mom. We have something to tell you. You know our Halloween candy? Well. Uhm. We took it out of the trunk and hid it in the basement because we didn't want DADDY to eat it all! And NOW it's GONE! Do YOU know where it is?"

Serene smile from Mom

Silence

(Game, set and MATCH to Mommy)

MORAL OF THE STORY: Mommy really DOES have eyes in the bak of her head.

THE END

Boo! Yah!

So in celebration of the day I shall give you a little run down since my last post.

Boo, as in boohoo, tears, ,sniff, sniff

Yah, as in the German pronounciation of YEA!. Maybe that should be JAH???

Anywhoo, here we go

Friday - Ian's team loses in the playoffs BOO...............and YAH!
Sad to see the season end, but yay for more free time to play and do homework after school.

Saturday - A trip to the Farmer's Market for all kinds of yummy goodness AND all is well in Bulldog Nation as the mighty Bulldogs took down the hated Gators. Let's make this one a DOUBLE YAH!

Sunday - Slept in, lazy day.....YAH! Pestered the kids to study for upcoming tests next week....BOO. Got together with chicklets, swapped suppers, drank wine.....YAH, YAH, YAH!. Down 4 pounds....YAH and a HOO!

Monday - Connor's team loses in the semi finals. BOO, see reasons above!

Tuesday - First completely free day from football. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Tonight....get together with chicklets, DH's and offspring for pre trick or treat dining. Encourage consumption of something moderately healthy to offset sugar rush to come. Chicklets gather by the bonfire whilst DH units are sent into the field with the minions to oversee candy pillaging.

YAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Happy Halloween!

Guess what I have in my gladware container

that you don't have in YOUR Gladware container??!!

A very very pretty salamander by the name of "DAMan"

Guess what I have bandaged that you don't have bandaged?

An 11 year old with a sliced up finger on the eve of his championship playoff game where he is expected to be receiving some passes on key new plays.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The joys of boys.

Updates on the fate of the salamander and the game later.

The Accidental Epicurean

So this is how it goes on just about any given night in my household when I actually have a chance to make a REAL dinner and not just throw together a quick meal of quesedillas, cottage cheese and fruit or sandwiches

WHAT is that you say? That sounds like dinner to me....damn it!!

Why yes they are my dear bloggers and I embrace them in the season of the sport. And I hug them and pet them and whisper sweet nothings to entice them to give up their heady and nutritious variations.

But I must confess that after two months of eating said fare, homemade soup, bread and a salad sound like a FEAST! So back to my story....so where was I? Oh yes...soup!

DH: "YUMMMMM....Honey this is good! What is it?"

MOI: "Uhmmmmm......some kind of chowder"

DH: "What do you mean some kind? What's in the recipe?"

Now I should pause the action at this point only to point out that we've been married 20 years and he should know the answer to this one by now, but alas.

This species of the male variety? He does not not adapt well.

As a matter of fact it is my firm belief that the only reason we as a species have adapted, survived and thrived is due to the female of the species ability to....AHEM....shall we say "get rapidly up to speed"

BACK TO THE ACTION

MOI: "I don't know sweetie. It started out as potato corn chowder. But I had some chicken breast I needed to use up. And then there was this half of a red bell pepper in the crisper that probably only had a day or two left, so in it went. Then, I thought the color was a little monochromatic and needed some green. So I chopped up some parsley, even though I wanted cilantro. But my cilantro had turned into slime and I had to pitch it. But I DID have green onion and so I tossed that in too! The pot seemed to be making a detour to Mexicali, so I threw in some cumin and the juice of half a lime for kicks. And then I thought, what would happen if I added the rind of the half of the lime into the pot as well? So I did and let it simmer for awhile and then scooped it out and it looked like it needed a little somethin, somethin....so I crushed some tortilla chips on top and hit it with a dollop of sour cream and a shred of jack cheese. So I guess it's Mexicali chowder!"

DH....looking sideways from his steaming bowl

"So is there any chance we might get this one in writing??"

Heh

You saw it here first!

Monday Monday

The week-end? It was busy much.

No, see that's like Noah on the ark saying "A bit damp for this time of year, wouldn't you agree?"

So I'd just like to go on record right now with my grown up Christmas wish list.

Dear Santa. I have been very, very, VERY good this year. I have been raising two fine young boys, mostly without the loss of my sanity. In the process my house either looks perfect and I am exhausted or it's a disaster and I am exhausted from looking at the mess. So, Dear Santa may I please have:


1) A maid.

Unlike Barbie, she doesn't have to be pretty or have multiple changes of clothes. I just need her once a week for dust bunny control. The model that comes with her own supplies would be lovely, but not required!

2) A lawn care serviceman.

Unlike Ken, he doesn't have to be mindless hunk who looks good in shades. As a matter of fact, I would prefer he NOT be good looking, because then I might spend too much time looking out the window and not getting a blessed thing done. Again, just once a week. But this model does need his own tools since ours seem to always need to be serviced. THAT is not a comment on any ONE person's attempts to be Mr. Fix It in this house.

3) A sitter once a week

Preferably NOT Kelly Bundy. But I'm kind of desperate so as long as she has a clean record we're good. My kids are old enough now that they would narc out anyone breaking the rules. Heck they narc me out. WAit? Did I say that? Strike that!

Remember, I have been very, very, VERY good!!!

Me Time!

Yeah baby. I got some of THAT yesterday!

I had a delicious lunch (greek salad...yumyum) and lots of wonderful girl talk for a LONG two hour escape with two of my former co-workers. One is a retired, simply elegant and hilarious at the same time grandmother. The other is a chick my age who has a 21 year old (YIKES!) I felt like a new woman after some time with them chatting about EVERYTHING but work. SIGH I miss those two. They make me laugh hard.

And then, it was football practice last night, but I don't do practice. Only the insane running around getting them ready for practice.

Once they left, I sat on my back porch with a glass of red wine and contemplated my belly button. Well I tried to contemplate it, but I think I might be having a little too much red wine because it's getting harder to find!

So it's back to WW for me on Saturday. And when momma goes on the wagon, DH comes along for the ride whether he likes it or not...HEH!

Let's do the time warp.................

again

EGAD that's where I felt I've been for near on high the past two months.

Hello dear blog readers, if I have any left. I'm thinking not.

I have many good reasons for my absence. My dog ate my homework. Oh wait that's the kids.

My kids ate my homework. No wait that's not quite it either.

AHA...I Know!

My kids ate my life...yep that's the ticket!!! And the little buggers think it is quite tasty and keep coming back for more.

Let me just say that football is fun. Oh...you can just HEAR the sarcasm dripping from my voice can't you. Actually the dripping sound you hear is my brains slowly leaking out of my head.

However football combined with odd year commencement of school for both kidlets....not so much fun. No sireebob. Just a whole lot of wailing and nashing of teeth...mostly mine!

But hey! The good news is only two more weeks of football!

And after 2 months I think I have finally figured out how to get the kidlets to manage their workloads.

So I should be blogging more regularily. Which might not be all that important to the masses as a whole, but is most certainly necessary to my mental health.

But if I disappear again, you might want to listen for the faint wooshing sound of me dropping through that damn black hole.

Into the Fray

School started this week for my little peeps. I don't know if anyone else has the same experience, but I can predict with ABSOLUTE certainty the pattern for the first week.

Day One - 6:30AM
Children are wide awake, dressed, backpacks loaded and fixing their own breakfasts

Day Two- 6:30 AM
Children awaken with a few gentle nudges, get dressed(Dad has to do their ties because it is Chapel...they gag, roll their eyes and howl at the moon in general)then argue the merits of trail mix or pudding for their backpak snacks and Dad is fixing breakfast

Day Three 6:30 AM (which was this am)
Children are still asleep. Dad is downstairs fixing breakfast. One, two, three calls for breakfast. Sleepy eyed kidlets stumble from bed. Pull on uniforms (yay for lack of freedom of expression!) Mom packs snacks, pushes them out door.

Tomorrow is Friday, early dismissal. It's spirit day which means "wear a school tee and shorts and party on!"

I'm thinking tomorrow will be easier...yes?

Waiting

I feel like the Lone Ranger

without Tonto

or Silver

My boys don't start school until next Monday, but they are deep in the throes of football season (practice at least)

All the other neighborhood kids are back.....or are going back this week.

The only thing left to do is buy school uniforms and the pending damage to my bank account makes me lightheaded.

I feel like I should have been enrolled in some type of 30 day "back to school mommy boot camp" to prepare for the oncoming deluge.

1) 5 circuits of various office supply store forays to find ALL the items on the school supply list.

2) 10 circuits of going through each child/recruits clothes from last year to see what can be salvaged.

3) 20 circuits of cramming in every last sleep-over, play date and "fun days" to tide the juvenile recruits over to Christmas.

Are you tired reading that? I know I am.

You know the fable of the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dyke?

Yeah

That would be me. Waiting for the mayhem of the school year to come washing over me in big crashing waves.

Anyone have a spare index finger they want to lend me?

Or a canoe? Maybe a personal flotation device?

I'm not picky....any port in a storm

Reeeeeeaaaaaallllllly?

I don't know whether to file this as:

"Understatement of the Year"

"Dunderheaded Quote of the Year"

"Or I'm a fame mongrel looking for my 5 minutes"

Read the last sentence....you be the judge

OUCH

I have returned

from vacation.

The deets?

18 people, which translates to cousins GALORE for the kiddos to romp with and only ONE night of cooking on my part. Well to be honest, I also assisted on the prep chef detail on several other nights because I wield a wicked fast knife.

And because my idea of fun is to hang with my BIL and SIL on their respective nights and drink wine and help with the creative process.

We all stay in one HUGE house on Hilton Head, my inlaws. It sounds impressive, but the reality is we only get to use it one week out of the year. The rest of the time it's rented out to pay the mortgage.

Equal parts sun, biking, beach and Bloody Mary's.

I am positively golden in color and glowing with plenty of sleep.

I slept til 8 AM every day! For a 6AM call girl that is my idea of heaven.

My kids also ate individual boxes of cereal every morning. So I didn't have to get up and feed them. The kind that comes in a pack of twenty and maybe only 1/3 are marginally good for you.

But hey....they only do it once a year. And the lack of circles under my eyes is a good trade off for the sugar ingested in that short time span....in my opinion.

And to cap it off, the last night? Me and my SIL's abandoned our kiddos to the tender mercies of their male parental units so we could take a LONG stroll on the beach.

and when it was completely dark?

We took off ALL our clothes and ran hand and hand into the warm salty water and flung our (temporarily immature)
naked not nekkid selves into the surf, giggling like the slightly tipsy nutcases that we were/are.

Note to those who MIGHT be worried about our bravado. We had cell phones and flashlights, we knew our beach path marker number and we marked the entrance by dragging a big ole discarded lounge chair as if to say "hey you nutcases...here is your crumb to the path home"

Also to be noted. The reason for all the responsible precautions is because I and a SIL not to be named, earlier in the week, had taken off for an after dinner stroll down the beach, without ANY of the above mentioned items. One hour and many arguments about the inconsistencies and loose ends of HP7 later, we found ourselves in the dark and unable to find our path home. Fortunately, "50A" was sticking in my mind. We turned off and I recognized the home of the parents of one of my hometown girlies and I knew we only had to double back 4 markers.

Our "responsible bravado" aside, I highly recommend this type of vacay for mommy types who have too many responsibilities and not enough time to decompress.

Naked on the beach.

It's not just a froufrou drink ya know?

I've been ROBBED

damn it!

On Mother's Day, my DH and boys took me to our local home gardening center. Not the "big box boys" mind you, but a real local family owned nursery (yes they still DO exist) so that I could select and compose my "ideal" container gardens for our big deck out back.

I greedily stuffed three wagons full of flowers and herbs and varieties of squash and tomatoes. (Oh joy..oh glee...I imagined myself an Earth Mother to Be)

All the while dreaming of the bounty of color and fragrance and taste that would await me in the wretched heat of the summer to come.

The wretched heat?

It has yet to show it's glowering/shimmering/breath robbing face.

It has been so damn gloomy and rainy here for the past two months I feel like we went from spring directly to winter, although slightly warmer.

But still my plants survived and thrived.

And I rejoiced in every new bloom, every shiny plump new fruit that glimmered on the vine, every heady frond of earthy delight that managed to survive the deluge that would drown out its life.

Until today.

Today...there are NO MORE FREAKIN plump shiny unripe fruits on my tomato and squash plants.

They have been stolen away, in the dead of night, by some unknown scavenger. I have no DEFINITE ID's, but I suspect

a fox (nice threads girl) or maybe a raccoon (okay you have the mask) possibly a possum (sympathy for the ugly but persistent factor)

CRAP

One side of me is PISSED as hell that I won't be enjoying the fruits of my labor this summer

THEN the other altruistic side of me (and by the way I don't like "her" very much. The alruistic side? She is far too freakin sensible and rational and makes the pissy side of me want to kick her ass)

THAT side says "Poor animal, how hungry she must be. Pushed on all sides by this city's insatiable need to build and develop and destroy her habitat...how can I begrudge her a meal"

But striking a balance I have to ask....did the scavenger have to eat EVERY SINGLE LAST COTTON PICKIN ONE???"

I swear, it's enough to want me to toss all the plants to the compost heap and throw in the towel.

And just because I need to give my self-indulgent self a good swift kick, I think to myself

"At least you aren't trying to make a living doing this like your grandpa did"

I tell you truly, sometimes the war between my early childhood Catholic guilt self and my latter year Presbyterian pragmatist self make me want to howl at the moon.

Boys are funny

My youngest child will be turning NINE on Wednesday. Yes. I was a child bride. 15 years old. They let you do that here down South. HEH

They also let you marry your first cousin. Or did. But not anymore. That may be why our SAT scores are inching up ever so slightly in the course of 20 years.

But I digress

So Thumper is turning NINE and in honor of the occasion, Gigi & PopPop (my parental units) came swooping into a town for a whirlwind two days of shopping, eating and movie watching.

Because as we told Thumper..."It's all about you baby"

They started off the day with a Matinee showing of "Ratatouille"

Now here's the thing.

Thumper had seen the previews when we went to see "POC3" and thought it looked hysterical. "Almost 11 year old" BamBam merely rolled his eyes, pronounced it "lame looking" and lobbied hard for "Transformers"

Alas...this was the week-end of "Thumper" not "BamBam".
So Thumper trumped BamBam and Ratatouille trumped Transformers.

I know, I know...it's a crazy universe.

After the movie and $40 later...my folks asked the boys how they liked the movie.

BamBam and Thumper in unison: It was....okay.

Thumper: Not enough action

BamBam: Yeah it was kind of boring.

Dudes. Seriously. What were you expecting? A movie about a RAT who becomes a CELEBRATED CHEF is NOT going to be BIG on the action scenes. Know what I'm saying?

Oh well, at least dinner afterwards at "Happy Sumo" was a hit.

Cause nothing says FUN like a flaming table of meat and a guy in a 2 foot toque tossing bits of meat in the air for you to catch in your mouth.

HEH

Twenty

I just typed that word and it looks so WEIRD

And I want to spell check it....because it does NOT look right.

TWENTY

It looks like a typo doesn't it?

But it's not.

TWENTY

TWO times TEN

FIVE times FOUR

TWENTY

Twenty years ago I..............

patted my daddy on the arm and told him it would be okay as I walked down an aisle in yards of lace

pledged that his people would be my people

danced under the stars

TWENTY

Twenty years later I........

answer people who ask "how did you make it so long?" by saying

equal parts love, friendship, faith....AND

STUBBORNNESS

We were/are both too damn stubborn to throw in the towel and cry "uncle" when things got/get too hard.

Heads up to all you newlyweds......things ALWAYS get hard. Repeatedly. Buckle up.

"the HARD is what makes it GREAT"....hats off to Jimmy Duggan in a "League of their Own" for that last quote.

But if you can hold on through the hard....well

I'll leave it to you to pen you own happy "neverending"

Tagged

Yikes

DINA tagged me a WEEK ago and WHAT have I been doing?

WELL.....I've been off making googly eyes with my DH for the past week.

HEH

It is/was our 20th (more on that later...I PROMISE) and so I'm back and have to answer the diviine Ms. "D"

"If you had the opportunity to do a 1-year internship in a company or field completely unrelated to your current career or specialty, what would be your top 5 choices?"

travel writer, travel photographer, restaurant critic, marine biologist, or art museum curator.
Uhmmm

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

ALLLLLLLL of the above!!!!

WHAT???!!!

I have to pick one?

CRAP

Okay If I MUST pick one...I obviously would pick restaurant critic

Why?

Because you can learn more about a culture and a people in an hour of dining with them than you can in a week of seeing "the sights" with them.

Food is truly the universal language.

Can I have an Amen...and a pass the applesauce...and the charbroiled crickets!

And here are my FIVE posits for woulda/should/couldas (Cause Dina dinked me on the head and said "hey you silly girlie..wake up and read the rules)

Would you go on a FIVE year mission to Mars?
What FIVE things would you pack?
Name FIVE people you would you take if you could?
List FIVE things you would not miss AT ALL
What FIVE things would you bring back?

And I tag Patrice....because I am a total slacker in the blog challenges and she is so NOT a slacker inparticipating.

ladies and gentlemen...I give you

PATRICE

First day of Summer

Yes, yes I know this is a bit late.

But I was so charmed by the sight of my next door neighbor's girls and their friends flitting through their backyard this past Wednesday....catching fireflies and celebrating "the night"... that I had to come up with my own random bloggy thoughts and post this

List FIVE things that you do/enjoy/look forward to/celebrate during the summer months that you DON'T during the rest of the year.

COLD BREW TEA

Being a transplanted Midwest gal, even after 20 years, I still don't do "sweet" tea.
The "sweet" makes my teeth ache. I figure if you are going to drink your sugar, you might as well eat it and well...I'm not a "sweet" person. But if held at sword point by Cap'N JACK Sparrow, (grrrrrr)I would be able to toss back a beignet and a cafe au lait, but THAT is as far as I go. There in the sand is my line. No further.

But during the summer. I drink Cold Brew Herbal Tea. Celestial Seasons, if you please. Raspberry Ice or Peach Mango. By the half gallon. Daily. No sweetener.

I'm really an uncomplicated gal and obviously a dehydrated one at that

PEDICURES

You know. The advent of the corner nail salon has been a boon to my mental health. It's hard to feel like crap when you're piggies are all buffed, waxed, polished and shiny.

It can ALMOST make me feel good about slipping into a swimsuit and lounging poolside.

almost.

LAUNDRY

Fewer, skimpier clothes equals less loads of laundry

Nuff said

BOOKS

Summer reading lists for the boys equals more reading time for mommy

"Okay boys. It's summer reading hour. Everyone to their rooms and I don't want to hear a peep out of you for an hour"

SANDWICHES OR SALADS

on today's menus will be

SALAD or SANDWICHES

Mix and match. Free for All. Roll with the flow.

yeah baby!

The boys of summer and lessons learned

You know

I've never been a big fan of baseball. Too slow. Too much standing around. Statistical mumbo jumbo. And the acronyms..Oyyy. ERA RBI BB...blah blah blah

Even less so this past season as I watched my family time being pulled apart at the seams by conflicting schedules for the boys and all the added work and stress endured by DH as he coached a team of 8 year olds. Yes. He deserves an automatic, "pass Go and COLLECT $200" Heh

So I find myself in the unusual position of writing with more than a soupcon of irony about my new found love for the game.

Born of a championship tournament team

And three short weeks

And friendships made. I feel like my circle of friends has been expanded threefold. My sons, yes both, the player and the observer, have play dates lined up for the rest of the summer.

And lessons learned

You can click on the link HERE to get the full scoop on Thumper and his team. Go to tournament links and look at the 8 Year olds for all the deets.

Thumper, my youngest. So named because he has this quietly contained supernova energy that threatens to explode at any given moment off his adorable self. Imagine an 80 pound lab grinning at you whilst thumping his tail waiting for his treat. got the pix? that's my boy. Minus 10 pounds.

He?

Was a rock star. Leader in RBI's (oooh look how easily that trilled off my fingertips) Second highest batting average. A certified member of the "no ball to the wall" gang.

Murphey Gold may not have won THE Gold in the final championship game. It was a Family Feud in the best sense. Two teams from the same park, battling it out like crazy and walking off the field friends. The winning coach, who coached Thumper a few years back, called BOTH teams, blue and gold to pose in front of the District championship banner for photos for the "press"

The thing that made my heart swell up to the size of Mr Grinch's after he decided to return all the gifts to WhoVille was this email that arrived in my inbox the next day from the league president


I was able to watch both teams in action over the last several weeks and I can honestly say that at a time when people are quick to sensationalize the things that are wrong with youth sports, these coaches, players and parents exemplified what is right. The parents and coaches from the other parks at the tournament commented to me, on more than one occasion, that they “have it right over there at Murphey Candler” and that “the President must really be doing things right” (thanks Jack!). They not only praised the boys baseball skills and the way they had been coached, but also raved about how well mannered and polite the boys were.


To the Coaches and Players, thanks for your hard work, discipline and dedication over the past few weeks and for a finale that could not have been scripted any better in a movie! To the parents and families, thanks for supporting your sons, coaches and teams and for tempering your support and excitement with good sportsmanship.

A little bit of good still shines in this sometimes dark world of ours.

And my cheeks are just a little flushed for being so...I don't know....what's the word?

Let's see...jealous, resentful, PO'D...take your pick, about the time spent at the park. Obviously there were some life lessons in the offing that I didn't see. Darn that forest for the trees.

On a final note, I will quote Jimmy Dugan from "A League of Their Own"

"The hard...is what makes it great"

BOO to the YAH

What IF Wednesdays

Buh bye Webster's Wednesdays.

HELLO........ "What IF Wednesdays"!!

We are going to have all kinds of fun posing the question "What If" in various ways, shapes and forms in the next couple of weeks.

and today... we have for your reading and posting pleasure the following

"You have won $5000 in hotel and frequent flyer air miles"

"You have ONLY 48 hours to spend it"

"You can take one person along for the ride"

"It can't be your spouse"

"So what are ya gonna do???"

Me?

Fly my Mom to ATL.

Then fly to Paris.

Snap a pix with the Tour D'Eiffel behind us in silhouette

Visit the Louvre all day.

Eat a croissant and drink an espresso at some local cafe.

Sit for an hour or two watching the world go by, with my best friend.

Buy something small, silly and slightly extravagant for both of us.

Take lots and lots of pictures.

Not go to sleep.

Take a journal. Write every silly, wonderful, inconsequential, boring and not so boring detail in said journal.

Savor every moment.

The 7AM sprintathon

Manic Monday Challenge is replacing Movie Monday Challenge, because.....well I' want to do something different!

I'm sure we're all the same, rushing around Monday morning trying to get out the door and I ALWAYS forget something. Thank GAWD for cell phones!

Anywhoo....I want you all to blog about the last FIVE things you always do before you rush out the door.

My summer routine in this EXACT order would be.

1) Kiss the kids

Okay this take about 10 minutes during the summer because they INSIST on cuddles....little snuggle rats!

2) Pack my breakfast and lunch

I always try and save some leftover dinner for lunch. I hide it. In opaque containers. So DH doesn't snack on it. Terrible aren't I?)

3) Fold a load of laundry.

It's a psychological thing. I can't stand doing 20 loads on the week-end. A load a day we can manage. DH tosses it in the wash at lunch. I throw it in the dryer at night. Fold the next day. So It's not wrinkle free. Who cares. At least it's clean. BEsides DH does the ironing...HEH!

4) Feed the dog and let him out.

The why's should be obvious. Poor poochie would be nibbling on the kids otherwise cause they sleep SO late.

5. Kiss the DH

HAH! Thought I'd forget him didn't ya!

Five for Five

Blog challenge today is to post five thangs I'm grateful for. Today I am feeling very sassy and not at all sentimental, so be forewarned!

1) I am really, really grateful that I have a washing machine and dryer. And a dishwasher. And Central Air Conditioning. And oh hey that microwave thing and an oven. And electricty. Seriously, I so would have stunk at being a pioneeer woman. I just would have up and refused to be everyone's doormat. And then they would have branded me a witch and drowned me, which while proving that in fact, I wasn't a witch, at least got me out of back breaking manual labor.

2) I am thankful that Clairol Natural Essence in Nutmeg is as close as my neighborhood grocery store and I don't have to ransom my children to achieve something closely approximating my youthful natural color

3) I am insanely appreciative for Trader Joe's. Every time I pass through the hallowed aisles I give thanks for the hormone free milk, the cheap organic produce, the roasted corn and "greens with envy" in the frozen section and the wine. Especially the wine. Can we have a shout out for the wine?!

4) I am thankful that Ms. Carlson taught me how to balance a checkbook in 7th grade "accoutning". That my dad taught me how to separate darks from lights in the laundry and how to change a tire. And that my mom, the former home ec teacher, taught me to cook at a really early age. Feeling competent sure beats the heck out of feeling like a dumbass.

5) And finally (on a slightly sentimental note) I am grateful for all the people in my life, DH, my boys, family, friends, cyber and otherwise, who put up with me and make me laugh in spite of myself. Thanks gang!

Kids Say the Darndest Things

No challenge today... just a random moment of hilarity at chez moi last night.

To set the scene, my youngest is sitting on the sofa with me watching "Who Wants to be a Millionaire". What else.

And he's not so much sitting as he is draped across me like a 65 pound afghan.

ME: Honey, you need to move. Mommy needs to get up.

DS: Nope. I'm not moving. I'm snuggling

ME: No seriously, I need to get up. Move your tush.

DS: No, no, no. Neener, neener, neener. You can't make me!

ME: Is that a challenge?

DS: (giggling)

ME: Well alrighty then. I guess somebody needs a swat on the behind.

DS: (more giggling)

ME: SMACK...ouuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccccchhhhhhhhhhh!!! That hurt mommy's hand!

DS: (giggling) That's because I have BUNS OF STEEL!!!

Fill in the blanks

So Shandy challenged us today to complete the following


I wish I had more ___________ because _____________.

Do I have to limit myself to one?



I wish I had more TIME because there's so much I want to do and I am too freakin tired come 9PM to get it done. And I'm not just talking chores. I want to do FUN stuff. Like playing with my art spplies or reading or knitting



I wish I had more MONEY because I want to quit work and stay at home with my kids. News flash. Your kids need you just as much, if not more, as they get older.


I wish I had more FAITH because waking up at 3AM every morning and not being able to get back to sleep worrying over every detail, big and small, is exhausting.

hhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....not as long as list as I thought.

Who,What, Where, When, Why, How

I am reaching back into the archives of my brain and retrieving this little nugget of writing goodness from journalism 101, Indiana University, circa...oh never mind!

And am posting the blog challenge early because after a Friday working at home and a Monday holiday and a Tuesday out with a sick day. Tomorrow. back at work. will be. hell.

So here we go. I'm putting on my Christiane Amanpour flack jacket and hitting you with my take on the golden mantra of the school of journaling. It won't be Emmy worthy, but it should be....ahem...revealing.

WHO

Who pushes your buttons. It can be in a good or bad way.

Without a doubt it is my DH. I love him to death, but he can make me nuts by sheer virtue of time together. He knows all my dark little secrets and is not above bringing them out into the light of day and giving them a little spit and polish to make them all, shiny and blindingly APPARENT. I hate to admit this, but he only does it when I need to be reminded that I am not well...perfect. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

WHAT

Makes you crazy (are you seeing a theme here?)

Oh the list is long and wide. I hate it when people take the elevator to go one floor. And I KNOW there are people who have to do it for medical reasons. But when I KNOW the people in question (ie work) and I KNOW they are perfectly healthy in addition to being perfectly lazy. It just irks the bejeesus out of me. I have been known to hop off when they get on, run down the flight of steps and casually stroll by the elevator door as it opens. I know. I am NOT nice. See WHO above.

WHERE

Where were you when you last lost your temper?

When my youngest DS told me that a teamate of his told him he didn't deserve to be an all star or to make the bball tournament team. What's worse, this teammate also made the tournament team and the all stars. Way to show your support....little putz. My husband is the coach of the tournament team. Thank god, because if I were? The little putz would be sitting....on the bench....a WHOLE lot. Instead, his mother will be getting one of my patented tactful "heart to hearts" this Saturday at the pool party kick off. You all can stop laughing now. I REALLY am good at making my point with a minimum of collateral damage.

WHEN

When is your crazy time of day?

5 o'clock follies. Kids screaming, dogs barking, dinner on the verge of burning, anarchy in the streets.

WHY

Why do you blog? Therapy, creative outlet?? Something other?

Therapy, creative outlet, frustrated writer syndrome, all the cool kids were doing it. All of the above.

HOW

How do you chill out?

Glass of cold crisp chardonnay on my back porch, listening to the birds and my water fountain. Usually when the 5 o'clock follies roll into town.

And now, back to you

Dinner, Dancing and Ducking the Hail

Shandy challenged us to write about our first date with our spouse!

Ahhh...sweet! And a nice prelude to the eve of our 20th anniversary in June.

We had met by the pool at our apartment complex. Michael says it was the lacy white bikini that reeled him in. I'll save that story for another day! I was attracted to his gorgeous green eyes and HOT swimmers bod! Yes, yes...terribly superficial, but there you have it!

Anyway, we chatted for about an hour talking about our schools, work, family, life and I thought hmmmmmmm....there's more here than meets the eye. He was a real deal, for sure, Southern gentleman and charming to boot!. BUT, I had to leave to have dinner with my family, so I left and he didn't ask for my phone number and I thought, oh well that was a nice way to spend an hour.

But he showed up on my doorstep the next day after work (silly boy forgot, he said he was so nervous and forgot to ask me for my phone number) and asked me to dinner and dancing for Saturday.

So Saturday arrives and he fetches me right on time, opens my car door and proceeds to charm my socks off once again. On the drive to dinner, we got caught in a hail storm and had to duck under the county police department garage to take shelter from the pounding. But then the sun came out followed by a GINORMOUS rainbow!

Funny in retrospect kind of a little bit of a metaphor for our lives together!

We had dinner at this beautiful restaurant on a large bluff overlooking the city. I had suggested the location because it was special to me. It was the first place I had dinner after moving to Colorado with my family. My brother had his wedding reception there. And now it had become our "first date" place. Kind of full circle!

After dinner, we danced and danced and then came back to my apartment and watched "Blue Lagoon" and snarked at the lack of acting ability.

Of course he kissed me goodnight and my toes got all tingly! Hee

And that was all she wrote folks.

He would call and then show up on my doorstep everyday after work from that day forward. We were engaged two months later, married 10 months later and as I said we are on the eve of our 20th.

Let's here it for itsy bitsy teeny weeny white lacy bikinis.....WOOOT!

(ps...I still have the now fading "man lure" wrapped in tissue in the bottom of my hope chest. It will make a good visual aid when I tell the story one day to the kiddos!)

I don't do Disney

My bloggy challenge for Monday was to revisit the trauma inflicted upon my young psyche by a bad movie experience.

Let's set the stage shall we.

I am 4 or 5. My mother wants to treat me to my first movie experience and is delighted to learn that Bambi, is coming to our local movie theater.

Ah joy, ahh bliss. What could be better than cute little forest animals romping through beautifully mastered forests and glades with the signature Disney touch.

You know where this is going.

Obviously, my mother did not know then, what we all know now....that is, there is a very dark side to Disney. His "ouevre" had not been in development long enough for this key factoid to surface.

So clutching my mother's hand and settling into a big plush velvet seat with a big buttery calorie laden bowl of popcorn (a moment please...for the sweet memories of my 4 year old metabolism)we prepare ourselves to embrace the "Magic of Disney"

Needless to say the magic was short lived, since anyone who has ever seen Bambi knows that the mother is killed within the first 10 minutes of the film.

I will never forget the sheer terror I felt when I heard Bambi's mother crying for him to "Run...Bambi, run" and then

the gunshot

I dumped the bucket of popcorn on the patron in front of me and ran screaming and crying from the theater...my mother hot on my trail.

And can I tell you.

I STILL have never seen the rest of the movie.

Never have

NEVER will.

Nope not a big fan of the Mouse in this House.

Busted!

Weehoo...it's "Busta Move" Truth or Dare Friday at the AOA!

(cue evil chuckle)....this is going to be SO fun!

So my challenge to all of you today and I do mean ALL of you, not just the SG challenge gals. I want all lurkers and posters to play. Heck I want you to come and play all the time...but seriously, I REALLY want ALL of you in on this one!

Today.... I want you to FESS UP to a time in your life when someone held the proverbial "mirror" to your face and made you see something in yourself through another person's eyes.

It can be:

hilarious or
embarassing or
ridiculous or
silly or
recent or
Whatever!

Just share a "BUSTED" moment!

In case you all haven't picked up on this little factoid already...all these challenges I come up with are completely lifted from my everyday life.

Yes siree bob....which just goes to prove that EVERYONE has something to blog about because I guarantee you if a middle age mom of two boys from the Deep South burbs, who works in the legal profession, can come up with stuff to blog about, SO CAN YOU!

Okay...pompoms down! Ready set? You bet!

I'll take "Most Recent Busted" moment for $500 Alex

Rewind to Tuesday afternoon. I ask BamBam to bring me his study guide for his Maniac Magee comprehensive test that he's going to have in a week. Ever read Maniac? If not I highly recommend it. Excellent book for the 8 to 12 year old demographic. Great life lessons. Newberry Award winner. And hey it's got heavy baseball/life allegories so my son totally dug it!

Sorry, plug over.

On it? A section is dedicated to multiple choice. YES! Huge fan of multiple choice back in the day....obviously displaying an early affinity for deductive reasoning skills (cough, cough) that are serving me well now.

So I start with the first question

"The suitcase that Amanda Beale carries is"

a) blue and green plaid
b) a gift from her grandmother
c) used to hold her books
d) kept on her closet shelf

BamBam looks at me with a totally straight, serious face and says

"That would be C...used to hold her books...final answer"

Oh

my

god

Nothing like being busted on my obsession of watching "Who wants to be a Millionaire" in the afternoon with my boys.

I laughed so hard I almost had a Depends moment.

But on the bright side...they are SO going to kick major butt at Trivial Pursuit in the future!

Wednesday Weirdness

I've been tagged by Dina to share 7 weird things about myself.

And since it's "Webster's Wednesdays" for my blog challenges and well WEIRD starts with a "W"....we have a winnah!!!

But I have to ask? Only 7? Lord I could write a novel. But in the interest of time and your attention span, I will just have to restrain myself.

1) I love grits. I think of them as cream of wheat with attitude. I also think of them smothered in a shrimp sauce with peppers and crumbly bacon bits and shreds of cheese.

2) I have to sleep catty corner in my bed when DH is out of town. And I do mean a full stretch taking over every available scrap of mattress real estate. With the 80 lb lap dog curled in one tiny little corner of the bed as an insurance measure. Full bed equals a good nights sleep.

3) I pat a kiss on my shot gun pewter angel that is clipped on my visor everytime I turn on the ignitionof Big Red. It's from my mom. Let's just say she's experienced Atlanta traffic first hand on more than one occasion. And she has serious concerns about her only daughter's safety after said experiences.

4) More superstitions. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Before we pull away on long trips in BIG RED... we all hold hands in the truck at the top of the driveway and pray for our safety and the safety of our home. It's a big scary world out there peeps. Positive energy is a good thing.

5) I like hot sauce. And biscuits. And gravy. together. on one plate. intermingled.

But even better? I LOVE my friend Corrie's Crawfish Cream Sauce over biscuits. Don't make THAT face! Crawfish are sweet eatin....and don't knock it til you've tried it!

Oh....and I have the recipe...which I so "helpfully" left on the counter Saturday night before Mother's Day. My menfolk? They are clueless. Corrie needs to come kick their behinds or at the very least give them a good talking to! (Co....remember Verizon to VErizon is free on the week-ends!)

6) I am female. Chocolate is NOT my comfort food. At all. Somehow this craving was left out of my DNA. Now salty and crunchy......that's MY language. Bring ON the chips and TJ lime salsa! Woot! Party in my mouth!

7) And hand's down the weirdest thing of all?

My husband and I finish each other's sentences. After 20 years together, you'd almost expect as much. Thing is...we've been doing it since we first met. For random weirdness I give you example 5,097,065 from this past week

"hey honey...did you....?"

"Yeah...done and I...."

"Picked up the.....?"

"Yep...got it right here"

It's awesome and annoying at the same time. But it is, what it is.

Freeze Frame

Home movies.

What is it about watching those grainy (in my case) images of me in my youth that has such a pull?

I posed the question on my blog challenge "Talk about your favorite home movie"

Obviously I had something specific in my mind!

My dad LOVED taking home movies. I think he was a frustrated cineamtographer at heart. Either that or he had a thing about shooting pixs of my mom from behind...which SERIOUSLY ticks her off to this day. My mom at 80 still has a toned, sleek bod, but I really can't say I blame her, because REALLY? Who wants to look at backsides. This must be my father's genre...who knows!

Anywhoo....my favorite family produced flick is from an Easter, long, long ago.

I was 2, my brother 1

Yes, we can all pity my mom now and understand COMPLETELY why she had to be given a sedative by her gyno when she came in three months after having me and was pronounced knocked up by the doc. No the doc wasn't the dad. oh heck. you know what I mean


I'm all in crinolines and an honest to god Easter bonnet (shhhhh don't tell anyone...I still have an affinity for them), with little white lacey ankle socks and white patent Mary Janes.

And I am running

and skipping

and hopping

and grabbing every last egg I can lay my hands on

Seriously peeps...I never stopped moving. ever.

Contrast that to my brother. In a little red jacket, blue shorts, blue cap, thumb FIRMLY planted in his mouth, other hand clutching his basket, walking around in circles like a little robot, never stooping to pick up an egg.

Having just learned to walk, he has probably decided that stopping one's momentum, once up and moving, is probably not such a good thing. Either that or he's not taking that thumb out of his mouth for love or money, nor putting down what he considers to be the ultimate prize, the basket.

And in the background of every single frame is my paternal granmother. Thin, her body ravaged by cancer, her face simply glows. She has grandchildren. She has lived to see them born. She has lived to see them walk. She has orchestrated their first egg hunt.

She is strength and love and grace personified. And if I have any ounce of resiliency, it has to be in large part from her.

This is her last Easter on this earth and my only memories of her are from this film clip.

Thanks dad.

For this?

The family will forgive the booty shots.

Fontilicious

Shandy asked us on Friday to post our favorite fonts.

So, so easy....it's called "Lisa's Hand" heh and I'm not talking Lisa Bearnson! Although she probably now owns the patent on that one. SNAP!

My computer crashed in January and I lost ALL of my saved fonts, which I only used on the very rarest of occasions when I was in full CZ clean linear graphic scrapping mode.

But even before that I was still all about the hidden handwritten journaling behind my main photo.

But if I had to pick my favoritest or all when I do the CZ thing is would ARIAL....clean, simple, easy to read.

I'm telling ya when I'm in the CZ mode it's the full monty or nothin!

Whoops..upside the head....I say

upside the head.

Today we are supposed to blog about something really funny. In typical fashion my family takes something that is scary as all get out and manages to find some humor in the situation.

Case in point?

BamBam got beaned by a ball at his game last night.

Fortunately, or not, yours truly was not present to witness said beaning.

Why you ask? Because I left after the second inning to clean the bathrooms and let Jake the Wonder Dog out to do his biznez.

All I got was second hand accounts, for which I am eternally thankful. If I had been there? In the moment? It wouldn't have been pretty. Why?

Because Momma Tiger has big long scary eye teeth and a wicked temper when her kits are in danger

So to RECAP

BamBam: Man he was throwin like a wild man and he hit me in the jaw and LOOK at my bruise

Me: Uhhmmmm...I don't see anything (Which MIGHT make me a lock for the WORST MOM EVER award but read on)

DH: God honey. My heart stopped. You could of heard a pin drop.

BamBam: And then WHAMMMM...man that kid can throw some serious heat!! Hey do you think I can throw that hard? Can we go out in the backyard tomorrow and practice?

Me: You want me to throw balls? at you? Are you serious?????

DH: He dropped like a log and was down for about a minute. But then he got up and said he was okay and wanted to stay in the game.

BamBam: So then Laine...he hit one REALLY hard and I took off running and I kept looking at my coaches and they kept waiving me

DH: And you wouldn't believe it.....our boy scored a run from FIRST after being knocked to the ground. Good lord almighty that boy is FAST!

Me: "Oh Honey you really got back on the horse...YEAH???!! High Five. Big Kiss!!! Hit the shower big guy!"

All the while giving DH the baleful eye in my well honed after 20 years of weddedness telepathic connection saying "You LET him PLAY after THAT??!!"

SEQUE

A dad in the neighborhood whose son played for the opposing team called us that night to make sure BamBam was okay. Good man...class act.

We told him BamBam was fine and obviously his head was almost as hard as the helmet.

EPILOGUE

They won the game

He doesn't have a concussion

It didn't hit him in the jaw

It hit him in the temple, which rattled his jaw(see above,so okay...I am NOT the worst mommy ever, just on the short list. For not being there)

Thank God for batting helmets

that protect the temple

and the resiliency of youth

Mama Tiger is slinking back to her lair now....it's safe to come out.

Nada, zilch, the big goose egg

Shandy asked us to talk about what we did for National Scrapbook Day and I'd love to regale you all with layout after layout of lovely, thoughtful, artisitic creations but nope.

I got a whole lot of nothin.

No layouts, no me time, just baseball, baseball, baseball. I am so FREAKIN sick of baseball I could just hurl ball park dogs.

Seriously, you know it's REALLY bad when all you want is a free day to do something totally wild and crazy, like oh, I don't know, clean your house! Yes, folks I am so desperate for a free day that the thought of getting cozy with the Tidy Bowl man would thrill me beyond words.

And guess what's on the agenda for this week? You got it.... THREE consecutive days of baseball.

Summer and the return of family dinners and family time can't come soon enough!

Vent over....return to your normally scheduled programming.

The rule of three

Appliances and coordianted demise.

I'm starting to think the little chips in all my appliances gathered round the glow of the LCD of the dying microwave at midnight and decided to have a coordinated demise just for grins and giggles. And to hear me swear.

First it was the microwave...it blew up, literally, in rather spectacular fashion.

Turns out you shouldn't try to use the infernal thing when there's a hold burned through the microwave plate. Of course one would have to know there was hole burned through the microwave plate. It would also help if people, namely my beloved, would remember to cover food before hitting that little start button. But I digress.

So first the microwave and while we don't actually use it to cook it is an indispensable part of our daily routine. All of a sudden we couldn't heat up leftovers or make popcorn. And I tell ya peeps, it was downright UGLY around here, on the heels of general anarchy, if you want to know the truth.

So I hustled myself off to TAHRJAY and bought a nice Sharp Carousel with all kinds of "preset" functions which I'll never use because

A) We only use the thing for the aforementioned two tasks and

B) If I have to use the manual to figure it out, tis not happening

but they sure are pretty!

So then a few days following the microwave replacement, our coffeee maker of 20 years just up and gave up the ghost on us. With no warning. No note of farewell. On a Saturday. It was just cruel.

So this time I hightail it to Bed, Bath & Beyond. Oh I do LOVE that store. And I LOVE the 20% off coupon. But it's a lot like Costco. I always end up coming out of there with more than I had planned on buying going in. And generally, I only have one coupon, so that is a very, very bad thing.

But the good thing, I have a lovely little Cuisinart individual pour coffemaker. It's sleek and shiny and pretty and makes one fine cup of coffee.

But I miss my thermal Krups.

And there's a fair amount of trepidation in these parts waiting for that third appliance to kick the bucket.

Please oh please, don't let it be the food processor. Friday night, with no pizza?

Inconceivable.

Riddle me this

for random "getting to know your wild side" blogginess, here are the three questions du jour.

You ready chickas?

1) Do you have a tattoo? Where? Why? What does it look like?

2) Are you a "fly by the seat of your pants gal" or "a planner"? (Love me some Julia Roberts circa "Pretty Woman" vibe)

3) For one day.....and one day only. If you could do any thing, be any thing,say any thing with no consequences...what would that "thing" be?

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


1) Nope. I'm Chicken. Bwahhk.....bwahhhk. Heck I can't commit to a shade of eye shadow for more than six months at a time. Or as my brother so succinctly put it in my circa college days, "You change your boyfriends more frequently than your underwear!" Guess who's giving him the big "neener....neener" coming up on 20 years of weddedness? Note. It isin't all bliss. But all in all it ain't a bad gig if you can get it.

2) uhhhhhhhhmmmm.....BOTH! I prepare for the worst/best and if I see the moment is taking me somewhere else? Well HECK I throw my hands in the air, scream at the top of my lungs and enjoy the ride! (confession...sometimes I cover my eyes)

3) Nuts. I can't even answer this one. And I posed the question. How clueless am I? Don't answer that! I'm of the mind that all things happen for a reason and in their due time. So I won't call a redo on anything. Cause I might alter the course of the future and total screw humanity. (And I have Captain Kirk to thank for THIS warped way of thinking...thank you VERY much)

WouldaShouldaCoulda

Let me introduce you to the three most hated words in my "southern" vocab....the dreaded WSC. As in..................

I WOULD have made a great actress
I SHOULD have gone out for the dance team
I COULD have been a Supastah

WSC...let's have a moment of silence for my and your personal WSC's and then kick that ole piece of baggage to the curb and talk about what we Know For Sure. Because we are all strong, intelligent, beautiful women who have a lot to share and it's time to let our lights SHINE!

So here we go, my top three "What I know for Sure"


1) Love

People come and people go. But the love you share is just a drop in the bucket compared to what you are given.

2) Family

Family comes in many forms,

Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.

Mother, Father, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles. Those who watch, those who teach, those who protect, those who love unconditionally.

Or SHOULD
but WON'T
or CAN'T

Then, oh then, comes heart of my heart.

Spouses, children, friends. People you choose or who more importantly, choose YOU!

People who teach you lessons in love and life when you are "in the moment" and when you "are zoned out". When you are sad and when you are happy. When you are at your most unlovable or in your moments of absolute triumph and joy.

3) FAITH

And this paraphrased and modernized from a Hindu teaching

There are hundreds of paths up the mountain,
all leading in the same direction,
so it doesn't matter which path you take.
The only one wasting time is the one
who runs around and around the mountain,
telling everyone that his or her path is wrong.

And that's all I have to say about that. (Thank you, Forrest Gump)

Peace out peeps!

Coming soon to you on DVD.....

"Tales from the Burb" starring Julia Roberts in the role of Lisa H, a feisty (is there any other kind?)Southern suburban baseball mom with attitude who takes on life, love and the pursuit of the missing sock in this whimsical comedy about how to find yourself without losing your mind. "Remember, the ride of life may be bumpy, that's why you have friends for seatbelts"

Truth or Dare

Oh I am BAD....so, so very BAD. I really should just be banished to an island far, far away. With cabana boys and endless supplies of mojitos. This sounds like heaven to you?

So much YOU know. Mojitos....blech! Margartias....HELLO! Sweet...not so much. Salty...I'm your gal.

So today is Truth or Dare at the ole SG challenge, courtesy of moi. Hence the TWIST. Spill your guts or take the dare.

And I decided to get down and dirty and dish!

The Rules.

Describe in excruciating detail your MOST embarassing moment. The one where you wanted to crawl in a hole and die. No holding back. We want every teensy eensy agonizing detail.

Don't feel like sharing your skeletons a la the written word?

Then find your most embarassing photo and do a layout "honoring" it. No holding back peeps. The photo needs to be THE focus of the layout. You can journal or not...but a brutally honest title needs to be included.

So which shall I choose? The written word or the hard cold photographic evidence.

Phewwwww

Saved by a non functioning scanner....WOOT!

So to my MOST embarassing moment.

Flashback to

Junior year in High School

Field Trip.

Do you have goose bumps yet? Seriously. Think about it. 17 years old and field trip. Those two things alone should be enough to conjure up dread and foreboding in any sane person's mind.


The setting

St Louis Museum of Art

The time

Why that TOM of COURSE!

Ohhhh you know where this is going don't you!

So. Flashback to a tall gawky 17 year old lurching off the bus with excruciating cramps.

Walking, walking through the Monet exhibit...all the while feeling like she is about to pass out.

But NO!

She can not pass out, because there is humilation yet to come!

Yes folks, her light colored skirt bears the mark of all her pain and suffering.

A quick thinking teacher, grabbed the sweater from her shoulders and wrapped it around the poor girl's waist before anyone else (well almost everyone...more on that later) can see and herds her onto the bus right before she collapses.

Cramps were a NO PICNIC to say the least, until HELLO...discovery of birth control pills!

So fast forward 20 years. High school reunion.

Mingling, small talk, bLAH, BLAH, BLAH...GAH....HATE reunions, file away for NEVER do again

THEN

Run into some girl I barely remember, more small talk, more BLAH,BLAH,BLAH

THEN

"I told my niece about what happened to you at the museum. And that everyone has moments when they just want to crawl in a hole and die. And that you'll survive"

OY

I am a life example on how to handle humiliation?

Note to self...again....DO NOT GO TO ANYMORE REUNIONS.

WORD

Define Yourself!

Blog Challenge today up at Scrapgal is take the letters of your name and pick adjectives that start with those letters and well....define yourself!

I feel a "Madonna like" vogue bust a move coming on...ha

So let's see

Oh it would be so easy to go with lovely or lovable or lighthearted...because all those are things that I long to be, but am not. So it's got to be

L - learn·er noun
a person who is learning; student; pupil; apprentice; trainee.

I'm all about the process people. I feel like I am a student of life, of people, of being. I am never happier than when someone is showing me a new way to do an old and tired task. Or when I discover something new to me

I

Innocent...NOT! Incomparable? Maybe! Ioconclastic? Nope....the Aquarian in me refuses to shove my beliefs on any other folks.

I'll take idealist for $100 Alex

i·de·al·ist –noun
1.a person who cherishes or pursues high or noble principles, purposes, goals, etc.

2.a visionary or impractical person.

3.a person who represents things as they might or should be rather than as they are.

4.a writer or artist who treats subjects imaginatively.

5.a person who accepts the doctrines of idealism.

#3 probably sums me up the best. The glass is half empty...pshawww....nope half full baby. And there's always tomorrow!


S - sen·si·tive–adjective

1.endowed with sensation; having perception through the senses.

2.readily or excessively affected by external agencies or influences.

3.having acute mental or emotional sensibility; aware of and responsive to the feelings of others.

4.easily pained, annoyed, etc.

5.pertaining to or connected with the senses or sensation.

6.Physiology. having a low threshold of sensation or feeling.

7.responding to stimuli, as leaves that move when touched.
8.
highly responsive to certain agents, as photographic plates, films, or paper.
9.
affected or likely to be affected by a specified stimulus (used in combination): price-sensitive markets.

Again here I am going with #3. Is that a sign? #3? Hmmmm
Anywhooo.....I'll cop to this one. I am hypersensitive. I can read people's moods as easily as a 12th grader can read "See Dick Run". For me, this means I know when to hold them and know when to fold them. Kenny Rogers...get thee to the back of the bus!


A - ar·tis·tic –adjective

1. conforming to the standards of art; satisfying aesthetic requirements: artistic productions.

2. showing skill or excellence in execution: artistic workmanship.

3 exhibiting taste, discriminating judgment, or sensitivity: an artistic arrangement of flowers; artistic handling of a delicate diplomatic situation.

4. exhibiting an involvement in or appreciation of art, esp. the fine arts: He had wide-ranging artistic interests.

5. involving only aesthetic considerations, usually taken as excluding moral, practical, religious, political, or similar concerns: artistic principles.

6. of art or artists: artistic works.

7. of, like, or thought of as characteristic of an artist: an artistic temperament.

And to cap it off, just to be contrary, I will pick 3 AND 4. I've always struggled with calling myself an artist. It seemed so, I don't know, boastful.

But reading the definitions...yep. I think I can safely classify myself as artistic. I'm sensitive "see S above" Geesh peeps, I cry at Hallmark commercials. I am such a SAP. Hey! Maybe S should be for SAP!

AND I have a great appreciation of art. Sometimes that appreciation translates into actual physical manisfestations of what others would consider art.

And then again not.

But there you have it

LISA defined!

The Coach's Wife

This is the tale of the Coach's Wife, Little League style.

The Coach's Wife.

She remembers to fill the water cooler and have it ready for every game. Despite some little stinkers who complain that the water is tap and not bottled. Yeah right kiddos, like she's going to fill the cooler with $10 of bottled water each game only to watch you spray your teammates in the dugout with the contents.

She memorizes the names and numbers of every kid on the team.So she can cheer for each child by name and yell encouragement from the stands. No matter how many dropped balls and muffed plays from kids in the field who would rather gaze at the sky than play ball.Because it is in FACT, only a game.

She gently reminds the kids in the dugout to pick up their hats from the ground, to pay attention to the game, to cheer on their teammates…good or bad. And all the while, she misses her husband, the family dinners, her downtime.

She resents the constant rush to complete homework and the stress of trying to make something in 15 minutes for her kids to eat so they can leave with the Coach. The same Coach who goes to the park an hour before the game to help any kids who want to take extra batting or fielding practice.

But still she sits in the stands. And watches. Watches her husband give a pat on the back, a shout of encouragement, hold his breath, hold his tongue. And in return?

One night a grandfather sits in the stands. His grandchild, a player on the husband’s team, leaves the dugout, once, twice, twenty times. To stuff his face with snacks from his grandfather. No other child snacks mind you. No other child leaves.

Because.....those are the Coach’s rules. And finally, the coach says something to the child leaving the dugout.“Hey buddy….let’s stay in the game okay?”

Then the coach’s son, who was batting a thousand, yes a THOUSAND, through the first five games of the season, fails to get on base on his next at bat.Even though he has already had two hits that game, he is VERY upset.

He feels like he has let his team down.They need the runs. He is angry with himself. He starts to cry. He comes out of the dugout to his mom, the Coach's wife, who gives him a hug and tells him that EVERYONE strikes out. It’s part of the game. He’s doing great, hang in there.

THEN....Oh then, the greasy haired grandfather with his nasty curled ponytail that reminds her of a pig’s tail...he says

“What???? Doesn’t the coach’s son have to stay in the dugout??”

In response? The coach’s wife gives her son a gentle pat on the back and tells him to get back to the dugout with his teammates.

The the coach's wife turns to the greasy haired shit of a grandfather and gives him a measured stare and says…nothing.

What she wants to say is “Listen here you jerk. My husband has said nothing for the past hour while your grandson chows down and flouts the rules, leaves the dugout and basically thumbs his nose at my husband and his teammates. And you have the cojones to complain that I am comforting my child who is visibly upset. Well SCREW you”

But she said nothing. Just gave him the death stare. And stood her ground. Remained in the stands and continued to cheer for the team. And the other team when they made good plays.

Because….. she is me....I am the coach’s wife.

Movies Magic

If ever there was sure fire way to make me feel better when I am down in the dumps (aside from snuggles from my boys!) it is the magic of a really good movie.

I know my challenge was to name your favorite of all time, but I'm sorry I can't limit myself to just one.

Rules....who said there were any rules!?!

So here's my short list

In the category of "Make me laugh so hard I Cry " is

Princess Bride. Oh my.

"Have fun storming the castle" (this one is my rolling screen banner at work)
"My name is Inigo Montoya.. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
"You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles. "
Inigo Montoya: You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you. Westley: You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.

And the list just goes on and on and on and on.

And I laugh and laugh and laugh.

It's my little happy pill in a 120 minute film. 120 minutes of laughter does a lot of good for my soul

In the special category category of "Positive Life Messages Set to Music"

my pick goes to "Sound of Music"

Because there's just something about a singing nun healing a brood of motherless children and finding love with their broken father (even though he doesn't know he's broken) and finding her own life path in the process....all set to GLORIOUS music that makes MY soul sing!

And hey, it's fun to watch the Nazi's get bested by a bunch of non-violent nuns!

Finally the winner in "Best Overall"

the award goes to .......hands down.....Field of Dreams

Baseball, James Earl Jones, never giving up on your dreams, sassy, spunky women, redemption, forgiveness. This one has it all.

Enjoy the show!

I ain't afraid of

....no GHOST!

I debated on going with "Twighlight Zone" or genuine "Fear Factor" with this post, but decided I'd give you a good one to share around the campfire.

So Twighlight Zone it is......you may or may not want to sleep with the light on tonight!

Read on to see what I mean

The summer after my senior year in college, I spent about a month living with my best friend Julie and her family, while I tried to figure out what to do with my life.

In many ways, I still am trying to figure it out..HA!

Anyway, Julie was and is what a lot of people would call "psychic." I know a lot of folks don't believe in that kind of stuff. I'm of the opinion that there is a WHOLE lot that the scientific community doesn't know about how the brain and the time space porperties, so I'm not willing to discount anything at this point in my life.

What I have seen and experienced, especially with Julie, definitely has me leaning more towards it's probably rather than not.

Like the time we were down in Florida for Spring Break and I was driving. We had come to a stoplight at an off ramp from the highway. I was about the fourth car back and was rolling forward to start through the intersection, when Julie screamed at me to stop. I slammed on the brakes and a car came tearing through the intersection at about 80 miles an hour. We would have been toast for sure.

Now you're saying to yourself, "Big Deal...she saw the car coming" Well you would be wrong. At the time, she was turned around in her car seat with her head down, trying to recover a map off the floor. She never saw the car coming.

doodoodoodoo

But back to our main story

So I'm spending the summer with her and she tells me when I move in, "Don't be alarmed if the lights in my room go on and off in the middle of the night."

Of course I gave her "The Look" like spill it girl. Why would the lights be going on and off unless you were turning them on and off?

She told me that she would be sound asleep and lights, different lights, would go on and off for no apparent reason.

Of course I thought she was full of beans and seriously considered moving out before I had unpacked, but she was my best firend and I just figured there was something wacky with the electrical wiring in her room.

her dad overhearing us, told me that he had been concerned about this as well, afraid there was faulty wiring in the room or even with some of the lamps. So he had had an electrician in to check eveything out and the room and the lamps were given a clean bill of health.

I was a little mystified but figured, hey...if it didn't bother her, it shouldn't bother me.

So about three days after I had moved in, I got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom.

I was obviously conditioned at an early age to be a mother!

AS I walked past her room, the door was ajar, Julie's nightlight was on and her two teacup poodles were asleep on her bed. I could see that Julie was sound asleep.

As I left the bathroom, and I approached her bedroom door I could see that it was still ajar and I saw that Julie was STILL sound asleep .

THEN...right when I was in the doorway, her bedside table light came ON!

Seriously, I about peed my pants.....amazing feat considering where I had just been!

As I stood there with my mouth hanging open and my heart in my throat, Julie remained sleeping BUT the dogs leapt up and did their "alert" stance staring at the light You know the stance dogs do when they can see or hear something and you can't?

FREAKED ME OUT!

Then before I could bolt for my bedroom, the light went out again!!!!

Well....I dashed for my bed, leapt under the covers and didn't budge until morning!

When I told Julie what had happened the next morning, she kind of smiled and said "Well I guess my "guardians" feel comfortable with you"

She went on to explain, that she often felt the presence of people who had passed on and she believed she was a magnet for those with unresolved issues. She said she would pray for them and eventually they would move on.

I did continue to stay with her that summer. I guess that makes me REALLY brave HUH? Or stupid...bwa! And I witnessed the lights on/lights off action several more times...always with different lights in the room. Always when Julie was asleep. And the dogs reaction was always the same.

That's what I get for my nocturnal bathroom breaks!

When she got older, word of her reputation got around, and the local FBI and police departments would call her in to see if she could help with unsolved cases.

She did this up until the time she had kids. After her first child, she quit because she said it was too hard on her having that "negative" energy from crime scenes tagging along with her when she went back home.

So there's my story. Believe it or not!