pensieve.me

For Peter, For Jenny, and a Festivus for The Rest of Us (aka A Contest)

Revised 7/5 ~ "C o n t e s t" (that word being used very loosely) ends on Sunday.  And I've decided the prizes aren't lame at all...they're reeeallly good and will be highly coveted...so if you haven't left a dazzling or poetic comment, it's not too late.  And if you're not so creative...remember...I CAN be bought ;).

1)  Does anyone remember seeing this hanging "down under" around a month of "Fun Mondays" ago? 

It's probably familiar to a fair number of people who visit Robin's little Pensieve, or at least to those who participate in Fun Monday.  It's a prize I "w o n" when I resorted to bribery and demonstrated my imaginative contest-guessing prowess over at "A Dingo's got my Barbie" aka Willowtree.  I had actually seen this bag when Willowtree asked us to post pictures of our blogging environments way back in February and commented on it then (it, or one like it, was hanging on a bookcase in his office).  Apparently he's got a mind like a steel trap and that was my prize for his recent non-contest contest. 

Thanks, Peter, it'll be going with us to the beach this week...it arrived just in time to make the trip:).

Oh...and for those of you who followed the dueling Photoshop expose' soap opera between Willow and Marnie (ummm... adult- rated, so I didn't link the actual posts...and really, it's only fun(ny) to those who know those two knuckleheads)(and by "know" I guess I mean read with some regularity), he included an invisible letter with additional insight--they'll be announcing their engagement soon, and something about kicking some "fashionista dirty uncle's" behind....not real sure what he was talkin' about.

2)  Jenny is one of my favorite "Mamas", so when she begged me (see comments) to share a few decorating secrets with her, how could I say no...yes?  She even brought Victor with her to take a look around.  Here's the paint recipe straight from the horse's mouth (well, if a horse could talk, and by horse, of course, I mean paint can...except they can't talk either, so why do people say that??).

 

3)  What's a "Festivus" without "airing of grievances"?   But instead of grievances, how about a little contest.  And by little, I mean little.  What is this contest, pray tell?  Well...let's see...we're headed out of town on an annual pilgrimage to Kiawah Island.  My blog will be lonely.  There are no scheduled posts, no guest bloggers.  Won't you keep her company?  Please?  Make me do a little happy dance when I get home and see your smiling faces wonderfully creative comments?

What's the contest?  Best comment wins.  Best conversation in comments wins.  Best poem in comments wins.  Is that specific enough?  What do you win? 

Let's let that be a surprise, she says rather slyly because I have no idea at the moment.

Have a great week, y'all.  Sure, I'm still discombobulated, but the beach is the BEST cure for discombobulation...I'm sure of that! :D

Chop, chop, get chur comments on!

 

I'm either REEEAL touched or ROFLMB(ehind- because-I-can't-say-the-A-word)O

Before you go on, even if you never click links in a post, PLEASE READ THIS (very short post, I PROMISE) and the comments.  Go ahead...feel free to comment to it...I'm thrilling to these comments...I really could use another from you.  Yes, YOU!  And if you're wondering if I mean you, YES, I DO mean YOU! 

Okay...if you've read the other (very short) post--you may now continue.  Truly, really, I value obedience in a person, so your compliance is appreciated.  And not just appreciated, but greatly so.  There's a difference, trust me. 

 

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

Oh, mercy.

Oh, my ever-lovin' m e r c y.

Oh, my ever-lovin', slap-me-naked-and- hide-my-clothes-but-first-close-your-eyes mercy!

Let's make the general clarification of the previous post simple.  For those who've read me a while, you already know I'm the Mistress of Enumerated and Nested Lists.  Don't even try to compete...I'm afraid I'll whip you like Aunt Estelle's mashed potatoes every.time.

1)  I'm "okay", and by "okay" I mean I laughed at least 23 times today.  Hmmm, slightly above average.  You might want to note that laughing a) does NOT always mean "funny ha-ha" kind of laughs, sometimes it might mean b) the hyena's hacking up a hairball or c) I think you're an idiot but I'm disguising it by smiling, nodding my head and giving you a "mercy chuckle". 

Still, laughter is divine, so 23?  I'm definitely okay.

2)  Our house has a)  NOT been leveled by an out-of-season tornado, b) NOT been ransacked by a band of marauding  space gypsies, but c) IS under renovation (I mentioned this a few weeks ago).

3)  Renovation includes a) repair of some damaged/rotting wood outside, b) painting our outside trim, c) demolition of a wall in our kitchen, and d) other painting...replacing a broken window...and other little this-es and thats.

Here we go...this is where I get discombobulated... you might want to fasten your seatbelts: 

People are in my house all the time not just people but w.o.r.k.e.r.s. and they need me to make decisions and answer questions and did I mention make decisions when ohmyword, someone tell me how many times I've explained I have a completely off the chart slightly-above-average inability to make a choice about ice cream, let alone how tall to make the bar, what color red to paint the new pantry/cabinet (I'm pretty sure there are 761 variants and when you add finishes and glazes that number grows exponentially!), how many inches over from the wall to hang the light, ma'am, you're going to need to buy a new, double- paned window because the replacement glass we got just broke AGAIN, do you care that we can't find the exact spindles for the porch rail because the one we found has three bands, not two ahhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH B.R.E.A.T.H.E.!

And, as I've mentioned both HERE (see #4b) and more recently  HERE (see #3), I cannot "go" when out of town OR with people "around" and even when I need to tinkle, no matter which bathroom I choose (we have three), I hear people--no workerMEN--talking outside the window or door and I have performance anxiety and I can't go and if this keeps up much longer I'm terrified I'll have to investigate usage of "the dreaded apparatus" and that would NOT be ha-ha funny, it would be hackin' up a hyena hairball SICK and I might just have to go somewhere "special" to recover and THAT would NOT be a good thing ahhhhhhHHHHHHHH B.R.E.A.T.H.E.!

And, none of my kitchen stuff is where it used to live because I had to move it around so they could saw and sledgehammer and otherwise obliterate the wall where our microwave and coffee mugs USED to hang out, so now all my "s t u f f" is all over the place and we've got too much of it, so maybe I need to give it away since I'm a minimalist wannabe and might as well start now since my crap temporarily doesn't have a place to sit anyway except for crammed in another cabinet where you can't get to it anyway or stacked on our dining room table ahhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHh B.R.E.A.T.H.E.


And today because I felt bad for Stephen since he's lonely because Rachel and Thomas are at camp this week, we met some friends at the park and he played in a really cool fountain and rode the amazing carousel and we ended the visit with Clumpie's, and, although I HAD to try "Creamsicle" and wonderfully, it tasted like the original, OF COURSE I ended up with chocolate, then Stephen went home with one of those little boys and I drove 45 minutes to the cabinet place, spoke with not one, not two, not three, but FOUR different people there, then picked up Stephen, then came home (praising God, to an EMPTY house!), looked in the mirror, saw CHOCOLATE FREAKIN' ICE CREAM DRIED ON MY CHIN and NO ONE bothered to tell me and I remembered when someone DID tell me WORSE and I decided right then and there that yes, I'd rather "know" ahhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH B.R.E.A.T.H.E.

And after dinner, while Tad was at his men's study, Stephen was beating me like Keith Moon's snare . . . hustlin' little punk and I played "Gin", and I knocked my fingers on the table by accident and broke the nail I actually paid to have repaired TWICE and it broke AGAIN :( and it's not that I'm too vain to have a broken fingernail, it's that it's too low to come off all the way, it's attached by a sliver of skin and it HURTS and now it's too far gone to be repaired a third time but who wants to pay three times for a stupid nail even if it hurts? 

I'm too tired to breathe. 

But NOT too tired to grin.

Thanks, guys, I am so, SOOOOoooo sorry my last post was misleading.  Honestly, it didn't occur to me it would be taken the way it was, but your kindness, your concern was touching.  It's nice to know if flying monkeys attack or a deranged cat juggler decides to mangle my den, y'all will be waiting in the wings to offer your support...pray for us...and encourage me in general. 

Oh, and I couldn't upload my own pictures earlier because, in perfect discombobulation mode, when I linked the cord to the laptop, the battery died (so I googled an image quickly).  For fun, I'm repeating a picture from Fun Monday a few weeks back and what our kitchen looked like yesterday...see the thin coating of dust?  No wonder I'm having problems breathing...;).

 

                                             

Discombobulated...

I'll be back...eventually...

Fun Monday - Top Shelf

This week's Fun Monday is sponsored by the Illustrious Swampwitch and since she's the boss of us this week, I'm cutting and pasting exactly what SHE said:

"Fun Monday's challenge for June 25 is to post pictures of your bookshelves or stacks of books. Hopefully, we will be able to read some of the titles. If you want, while you're at it, post pictures of ANY shelves...shelves with toys, dishes, collections, Aunt Gertrude's ashes in an urn, etc. Also, post pictures of your garage, carport, or places where you store 'stuff.'  (No fair cleaning first, but if you must, maybe this will be the motivation to do so.)"

Okay, I'll admit it, I cringed a little bit on this one.  One of the things on my summer "to-do" list is to straighten the books in the hutch in our guest bedroom.  There's no rhyme or reason how they're organized--a loooonnngg time ago there was--and I'm kickin' myself for not getting to this BEFORE Swampy had to go and ask us to show pictures.  I'm good at following instructions  would NEVER think of breaking the rules  the very obedient type (see #3 :/ ;) ), so I didn't clean first.  Instead, today while it rained (a big "wahoo" for us in the Tennessee Valley!!), Tad and I napped.  Yep, I've got my priorities in order ;).  Not that I have any O-C tendencies (denial?), but it drives me crazy genres aren't paired with genres, authors are scattered, and there's two rows of books crammed on the bottom shelf....  Here's a picture of the hutch as is...but not how it'll look in a few weeks...

I'm not sure when that angel ended up on the middle shelf, I didn't put it there; I used to collect cherubs (before the years I collected elephants and after the years of collecting carousel horses) (you'll see another in the next group of photos), but somewhere along the way never mind the self-righteous reason why I stopped collecting anything but tennis rackets (even though we don't exactly play) (seriously...:/)  cool martini recipes books.  There's a FABULOUS used bookstore here and it's difficult NOT to buy something EVERY time you go especially if you have a little problem buying stuff marked 75% off   are you fed up with all the "strike-throughs" yet?

If you were Fun Monday-ing when Willowtree was host and asked us to show our blogging environs, you saw, among other things (and with the accompanying explanation), this photograph.

Lonely, isn't it?  That was then, this is now (supersize the middle one to get a better idea of the colors):

For fun (since it IS Fun Monday and all...), I thought I'd show you a picture of shelves in our garage.  Tad's junk outside is even neater than my junk inside.  The "portrait" was a going-away gift to him when we moved to Tennessee from a friend who knew he was a "Seinfeld" aficionado.

Thought I'd include one more picture in closing I wasn't able to include last week since our kitchen was being painted.  I love this thought :)!

Be sure and visit Swampy for the rest of the Fun Monday gang--it's never too late to join in the fun.

Sweets & Treats & What Kind of Girl Do You Think I Am???

1)   Remember when I "got lucky" and posted a tell-all?  (It's okay if you don't, that's why I included the link)  Well, Risa, the ParTea Planner hosted a tea party-themed swap, and I got paired with a real "tea specialist", Jenny Wells, aka the Tea Party Girl.   Jenny and I have exchanged several emails, and it's clear I've gotten lucky with all.things.tea. twice now :); she's a sweetheart. 

We were supposed to send an item that began with all the letters in the word "PARTEA" and provide an explanation for what we sent; here's the description Jenny provided.

P - for Pot, teapot, that is

A- Anne Shirley's Almond Black, her best selling tea (love Anne of Green Gables!)

R - for Rose Sugars (my daughter ate several of these thinking they were candy, but I managed to take a picture before they were all gone...!)

T - Teacup and saucer (it's beautiful and oh, so delicate)

E - for a loose lEaf tEa strainer (Jenny stretched it on the "e", hehe)

A - for A perfect pot of tea spoon

Jenny was also thoughtful to include a copy of her brewing tips in case I was new to brewing loose leaf (which I am).  Probably the thing that made me smile biggest, though, is one of those "detail" things that makes a difference--her mailing labels were Mary Engelbreit...gotta love that connection.  I haven't tried my parTEA stash, but it's just a matter of time :).  Hmmm, maybe I'll have my morning coffee in my new cup tomorrow, just for fun...I don't think Jenny will mind.

 

2)  Notice the new patriotic sidebar doo-dah?  The 5 Minute Mamas are having one of their contests again.  This time it's not a party but there will be a dozen prizes!  You don't even have to be a blogger to enter, just click the links for the rest of the details. 

3)  And, this...THIS...I don't know what to think about it.

You Are a Normal Girl

You are 50% Good and 50% Bad.  Sure you've pulled some bad girl stunts in your past.  But these days, you're (mostly) a good girl.

Are You a Good Girl or a Bad Girl?

"Normal" is good, right?  So why was I just a little bit disap- pointed I wasn't one or the other?  See?  That's NOT normal :).

HT:  Chickie by way of Friday's Feast

Friday's Feast - 149

I hope you'll have time to read my post from last night, I've so appreciated your comments so far.  When I saw Friday's Feast this week, I liked the questions enough to play along...I love how Susie comes up with this stuff.  If you decide to feast, too, let me know and I'll be sure to visit!

 

Appetizer
Name a funny habit you have.

The way I put on lipstick--top right side of my lip, two strokes; top left side, one stroke; then the bottom lip, left to right, then right to left.  I didn't realize this about myself until Rachel mentioned it once, and now I'm very aware...  It was more fun when I had my MAC lip brush, but that was stolen when I was robbed a while back and I never replaced it.  Buzzards got my $13 lip glass, too.   Geez...$33 on my lips (and I rarely use lipstick...).  It was Isabel's fault.

Soup
If you could instantly know how to play a musical instrument, which one would you pick?

Know how badly I wanna say "guitar" for this?  1)  because you can take it with you, and 2) because they ooze "cool"?? 

The truth is, I'd love to be able to play the p i a n o.  Remember that scene in "You've Got Mail" where Kathleen (Meg Ryan) and her shop posse are standing around the piano, and Birdie (Jean Stapleton) is playing a Christmas carol (I think)?  I would LOVE to be Birdie, able to sit at the piano, play anything... everything by ear...and have a home adorned with the music and laughter of friends and family. 

Which is about as far away from "real" as you can get...not ONE person in our family is gifted musically; at least it has given us many opportunities to laugh AT and WITH each other. 

Salad
How long is your hair?

Just below my shoulders. 

Main Course
When was the last time you forgave someone, and who was it?

My sister...yesterday.  But I don't think she knows it, so I guess it's not "complete". 

Dessert
What is your favorite kitchen appliance?

Well, I do love our waffle-maker, and I've slap worn out my mixer, but without our coffee maker, I might just be impossible to live with.  It brings me to life every morning...it's a shameful, legal addiction. 

Trifecta - Part One ** Revised ** ** Oops, Another One **

My house is quiet right now, companion noises are few.  The drone of my computer and its printer bride... across the hall and down the stairs, Aussie occasionally repositioning, a dog tag cowbell of sorts adorning her neck and reminding me that she is comfortably nested under our dining room table...the soft tapping of my own finger tips as they serve as wand to temple, coaxing thoughts from my tired mind into my blog pensieve. 

Now is one of those times I wish pensieves were more than mere literary device, a means in Rowling's arsenal to accomplish Potter's ends.  There's so much I'd like to extract, to rid myself of present thought while keeping it safely nearby so I could revisit and rethink it when there weren't so many ruminations colliding. 

A mother's life is notched by the milestones of her children, the turning points in their lives give meaning to her own.  When all is right and good and balanced, these things are not everything to her, but the something they are is everything for that moment in time.

"Firsts" are nearly always magic--a smile, a step, self-tied shoes and lost teeth all inscribe their place in her heart.  Those are the "good" kind.    The not-so-good firsts also find their place--foot-stamping, indignant "No's!", skinned knees, a call from preschool to inform you that YOUR child is the class biter. 

I'm in a s e a s o n of milestones, any one of them on their own would send me into a pensive state; when I multiply it times three, well...I want to write to remember.   I have to write.

Stephen, my baby, turned ten in April.  As all young men should be, he is p.r.o.u.d. of those double digits.  I forgot that that meant something until he reminded me (how could I when both of his older siblings had already crossed that magical threshold?). 

Stephen is our affectionate one, as a kindegartener he earned the nicknames "Romeo" and "Cassanova" from Mrs. Farrar and Mrs. Tucker, from me, "the Kissing Bandit".  He loves to touch, to be touched, it's how he gives and receives love.  He has always been the reluctant one to spend the night away, especially if Tad and I were out of town; for some reason our being gone made it worse.  While he was eager to reach that milestone, once he understood it actually meant spending the night away, he retreated for a while.  Pushing him only made matters worse, so we let him take his time until he was ready again.

So, the first reason I'm writing when I'd like to be sleeping?

He's at camp this week :).  First time.  A magical, good kind of first. 

I've missed him from the moment I dropped him off, but I couldn't have been more thankful he never looked back.  When we first mentioned camp, he had that "deer in the headlights" look.  Little did he know, I had already paid the deposit.  He responded with, "It's too late, you were already supposed to sign up" and I just slyly said, "Well, I talked to Mr. P, there's a spot if you want it...".  For the next several weeks we sowed seeds of "camp benefit" (Rachel and Thomas did, too, they had already had a year of camp under their belts by the time they were his age).  My own camp years hold some of the most wonderful memories of youth...a smile curls my lip just pausing for a moment to remember...:)

Slowly, he accepted?  became resigned to? the fact he was going.  After the requisite labeling of belongings--in a most likely futile attempt of assuring his things returned home with him--and making sure he had  enough underwear for every day (speaking of futility...!), he was ready.  As I kissed him goodnight, he actually told me he was excited.  That was a good thing, a very good thing.

So, it's been quieter without him this week.  I think his siblings are f i n a l l y beginning to miss him, too.  Rachel has dutifully taken care of his fish every day and filled his gumball machine FULL of tasteless balls of color (couldn't help but sample them) to surprise him when he gets home; Thomas even said it.

In spite of his physical absence, he's been present a thousand different ways--when I walk past his room, I catch myself turning my head to see him, the same way you mindlessly flip on a light switch when there's a temporary power loss;  the noticeable decrease in the number of times I'm asked "What's for dinner?" and, really, just his characteristic "need-to-know" questions in general; only two babies to kiss goodnight....

A huge milestone for him, maybe one just as large for me.  Once again, I'm reminded I've already had him at home longer than I will have him home...and it pains me just a bit in advance knowing the next eight years will fly by even more quickly than the previous ten.  Time has a funny way of speeding up and slowing down like that...

And then there are those "things" with Thomas and Rachel...lol...I might just give up sleep for a while.   :)

* * * * * * * * * * *

** Friday Night Revision**

1)  He had a GREAT time and can't wait til next year.

2)  The kind of conversations that were absent while Stephen was at camp:

Stephen:  "Mom, you know what I hate?"

Me:  "What's that?"

Stephen:  "When someone pinches your nose and you have a booger...it huuuurrts."

Me:  Blink blink.

* * * * * * * * *

Me:  "Baby, I'm so proud of you..."

Him:  "Yeah, me, too."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

3)  Apparently, my propensity for "not going" when out of town is genetic.  He didn't either.  Okay, he did, but only once. 

So what does that mean?

I'm up late because he wasn't feeling well...got sick...IN HIS BED (thankyewverymuch)...and hashed a week's worth of camp groceries.

4)  I forgot this last night...sue me...it was late and I had just inhaled the aroma of vomit.

Changed underwear:  Daily (according to him AND the laundry...)

Showers:  2

Brushed teeth:  ONCE

(glad I wasn't his counselor.............!)

Yep, sounds about right ;).

D.C. Top Ten (field trip edition), Continued

Memories continue to fade, almost two weeks have passed since we were in Washington for Rachel's class trip.  I was compelled to post a "Top Ten" list after our family trip to D.C. a while back, so I thought it'd be fun to compare the differences.  Click here to read the first five memories this trip...and following is what comes to mind now.  Again, they aren't necessarily in order, just enumerated so I'll know when to stop :).

5.  Bus rides ≠ Thrill rides.

Or at least they shouldn't.  Our driver was not only new with the company, he had never set wheel--or foot--in D.C. before our trip.  Let's just say both parent and child were on edge when he was behind the wheel; it might've had something to do with hitting guardrails at 70 mph...or having the side mirror busted off by a "dump truck"...or leery "looks" and strange remarks (i.e., once when we were getting off the bus, I said, "We'll be back..." and he said, "Is that a threat or a promise?" and I was just a bit weirded out...) or getting lost in a suburban D.C. 'hood, where a "neighbor" was moving large cross ties from driveway to street at 10:00 p.m., and when asked for directions, said, "We don't get many buses around here..."  Duh...ya think?  Actually, I'm sure this was a "had-to-be-there-in-order-for-it-to-be-funny" kind of thing, but it was freakin' hilarious at the  time.  Then, again, that just might've been frayed nerves...  Think a cross between Schneider from "One Day at a Time" and the odd neighbor Mr. Heckles from "Friends" and you'll have a good visual. 

 

4.  Sleeping with strangers. 

I about died when I found out I'd be bunking with three other women.  Four girls, one bathroom, two beds...YIKES!  When I was MUCH younger, this wouldn't have fazed me, but now?  Different story...I was fazed.  I snore...I can't "go" with other people around...I don't like putting on make up, getting dressed or showering with an audience (like I'm sure they couldn't wait to see all of the above... ).  I had told K (principal and organizer) I'd give up staying with Rachel in order for her to be with her best friends; the other moms were chaperoning, too, so that would've meant the girls would be split up...and since this trip was about her (not me), I figured that was the least I could offer.  I DIDN'T KNOW I'd eventually regret that "sacrifice" THAT WOULD MEAN I'D BE SLEEPING WITH ANOTHER WOMAN IN THE SAME BED! 

The first night I got a reprieve...there were two rooms available for the four of us (whew!).  The next two nights (in a different city), no such luck.  Of course, because I cannot keep my thoughts to myself, I was pretty vocal about my anxieties...nothin' personal, I just like my s p a c e. 

The thing is, our days were full and long and there wasn't a whole lot of time spent in the room anyway.  AND, I got an unexpected surprise....the "found-$20-in-your-coat-pocket-from-last-winter" kind, not the "cat-left-you-a-'goodie'-in-your-right-shoe-because-he-was-ticked-you-left -him-home-while-you-were-on-vacation" kind:

It was FUN!

The first night together, as we laid there not spoonin' or anything even remotely approaching saucy or salacious in bed, delirious from having walked a thousand miles and carpe diem-ing D.C., everything was funny.  It reminded me of school-age sleepovers when life was easy and good and...more innocent.  There was a symphonic rhythm to our conversation--someone would say something, we'd giggle, and then settle...over and over again.  Eventually, the rhythm changed as we drifted off to sleep.  Snores replaced snorts.  Remarkably, insomnia queen that I am, I was one of the first ones asleep so the Zzzzz didn't bother me a bit.  Them, maybe....not me;).

3)  Sometimes $#!t happens, sometimes it doesn't. 

AKA ENTIRELY too much information...As I've recounted on my blog before, when I'm out of town, I cannot "go". This is not something I consciously "make" happen (or more accurately DON'T make happen).  My body seems to know I'm not at home, so apparently I digest food some other way.  I have an extremely shy bladder, but an even shyer bowel.  Why I feel compelled to admit this before God and the whole world wide frickin' web is beyond me.  It's amusing to me I can t a l k about it, just not do it...

My friend and favorite co-chaperone Nancy was concerned about this on my behalf...she encouraged massive consumption of water.  Kinda hard to do this when you're averaging walking seven miles a day--your body may need it, but it's just not practical.   Nancy, a teacher, also decided to educate me.  She explained that "__it" is supposed to be S-shaped, make a "certain" sound when it hits the water, and healthy stuff should be in a particular color range.  HUH???  WHAT THE HECK‽‽  Well, apparently she's been watching too much Oprah...and Dr. Oz is her personal physician.

I REFUSE to become a poop inspector.  If I had wanted to be a proctologist, I would've gotten a medical degree.  Besides, obviously "I don't do that", so it's not necessary.  Kind of ironic that on our first day I took a picture of a "privy" at Monticello, don't you think? 

2)  Oh, the Joy!

We had a tour guide, Joy, who accompanied us from Chattanooga.  Lemme tell you this, Joy was a professional in every sense of the word.  She was dressed in uniform everyday--a long-sleeved white blouse, navy vest, khaki pants and sensible shoes.  She's been a tour guide since 1982 and Nellie.bar .the.door.and.get.out.of.her.way...she was more than able to make it happen, whatever "it" happened to be.  She ran us ragged, and I'm serious when I tell ya we averaged seven miles/day.  A wealth of information (like where to buy $18 hoodies that sold for $30 everywhere else and the best food courts for kids...), Joy was deliciously "old school"....

It's important to add, she was born BEFORE the Depression.  The Great One (which really wasn't great at all).  She's in her late 70s and ran circles around us!  Oh, my, we enjoyed her on a thousand different levels--I soooo wish I had a "good" video of her--for now, here's a glimpse.  She was absolutely precious...and then some...;)

  

1.  Watching my daughter ... "become".

This one is going to be a whole post to itself.  There's no way I'm squenchin' it in to this one. 

Fun Monday - Wall Bling

Good, golly, Miss Molly, aka Return of the White Robin, is hosting this week's Fun Monday.  She asked bloggers "to show us something that hangs on your wall that is fun, interesting, endearing, sentimental, or otherwise enticing."

I've gone with sentimental...let's just say I'm in a mood, okay?  Enough said....

A bit of a disclaimer (seems like I'm having to disclaim a lot lately :/)--because of the time of day I took these pictures, I had a hard time not getting photos that glared at me.  Did y'all have the same problem?  I guess this is the reason they offer you the more expensive non-glare glass when framing, which apparently I must always decline. 

First off are three cross-stitches, all made by one of our dearest friends, Christi.  When we moved to our previous hometown back in 1989, they moved into the condo directly under ours the day after we did.  We peered out the window of our second floor and thought, "Hey, they look about our age," and since we didn't know a soul in town, the next day I cooked brownies, hand delivered them to their door, and we've been fast friends ever since.  Between us we have six children, both girl-boy-boy, and their grades stair-step each other's.  These are "lifetime" friends, and for the past (we can't remember when it started) X number of years, we've traveled to Hilton Head together to celebrate a long Memorial weekend.  GREAT family tradition for both of us. 

If our house ever catches on fire, THESE treasures are going with us, right after I throw the children and our wedding pictures out the window.  Sorry they're blurry...lighting issues, too...

Next, this is the first cross-stitch my mother-in-law ever stitched.  I had known her over 20 years when she showed it to me, I've never seen her doing anything crafty (baking, heck yeah!  Crafting, never).  She made it in 1975, but never could find the extra money to have it framed.  Tad and I loved it and asked her if she'd frame it for us for Christmas, so she did (2005).  It's a treasure, and yes, it, too, will make it out of the house if there's a fire.

Last...are some oil paintings that belonged to my mother.  In my mind's eye, I can still see them on the wall of our little apartment.  My grandfather had an antique store (before I was born), and these paintings were originally in his shop.  I've never had them appraised, but a friend (who "knows" these kinds of things) told me they were the "nicest" thing in my house...even nicer than my Polyphon  (which says a lot, I've never seen a duplicate of it IRL anywhere). 

Whatever.  Their value to me is their attachment to Mama; for some reason, even though I don't love them on artistic merit alone, they're always somewhere prominent in our home because they were prominent in her home.  Interesting...I've never had that conscious thought before.

Okay, head over to Molly's to check out what's hanging around everyone else's place, even if you stop by here on Tuesday or Wednesday or...;).

My D.C. Top Ten - Field Trippin' This Time Around

Why the delay in writing this post?  Because I've been TRYING ALL FRICKIN' WEEK LONG TO UPLOAD VIDEOS TO YOUTUBE and I cannot get them to load, no matter WHAT I try.  Tears...  They account for two of my top ten picks...for now I'm going with Plan B.  Dang it. 

WAHOO!  STOP THE PRESSES!!  BACK TO PLAN A.  I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO MAKE IT HAPPEN (cartwheels and handsprings on my end...backwards and forwards).  So what if I'm a bit s l o w...nothing wrong with being a remedial student.  Einstein wasn't born that way, was he?  No sirree, he was born wrinkly and naked with a brain the size of a kiwi....so there!

It finally occurred to me to search "video uploading alternatives" and voila...enter Google Video.  I can continue this post without the accompanying angst...turmoil...POSTAL-TURNED-ROAD-RAGE  frustration!!   I ** heart ** search engines right now, I'm buying rounds for the house, I love all creatures great and small, and although it is certain y'all would've known to do this within five minutes of youtube not working, I could care less that you're rollin' your eyes at me, feeling an earned sense of superiority.  It is my pleasure to bolster your self confidence. 

 

Perhaps this would be a good place for me to move along (lol).  These are numbered 10-1 to help you (and me) keep track of where I am, but order doesn't matter...at this point, these are the things I'm remembering.  Who knows what the list would've looked like if I got the videos to load Monday or Tuesday.

10.  Last one in is a rotten egg. 

Departure from school was scheduled by apparent sadists for 6:00 a.m.  After getting, oh, about 1 1/2 hours of sleep because I was scared I'd oversleep, we left our house at 5:57 a.m.; the only problem with this is we live about 15 minutes from school.  Screeching into the parking lot on two wheels I wish, I didn't see any students...just parents staring at the bus.  Yep, we were the last ones on and I wished I was the two inches tall I felt so I could sneak onto the bus without anyone noticing.

Last one on means you don't get to choose your seat--it chooses you.  All the mom chaperones were paired up already. That left Big Dave for me (big as in athletic stocky, not big as contender for circus freak).  I knew David before the trip (once whipped his tail and took his money as a substitute player in Texas Hold' Em.  I was the player you'd DESPISE playing with, an innocent (ha!)  a poker ingenue (ha!ha!) pretty doggone clueless throughout the whole night, and I'M the one who goes home with the cash...heh heh, hustler without even trying ;) ),  but after the trip, I REALLY knew him.

9.  Sanitary wisdom. 

The lady cleaning the bathrooms at The National Museum of the American Indian was one of the happiest people I've ever met.  Her body smiled out loud, her countenance radiated joy, she was a princess who could've cared less that her current vocation involved cleaning up after other people all.day.long.  In just a few words, I KNEW this about her.  Of course, how could I not adore her after she told me I looked like Sarah Jessica Parker.  I told her I was voting for her in the next presidential election.  She just laughed and told me she shouldn't have been watching so much "Sex in the City", explaining that her niece had given her the videos.  What I'd do for Carrie's size four killer body AND the ability to run in stilettos.  But even more than that, this lady's aura that had the ability to make my day in a matter of minutes. 

8.  "Off Campus" Field Trips.

For the first time ever, I had opportunity to tour both Mt. Vernon and Monticello, respective homes of Presidents Washington and Jefferson.  Worth it, Worth It, WORTH IT!  Knowledgeable and animated docents brought these homes to life.  The architecture and the home sites are, in a word, amazing.  It's clear these men were progressive, visionary, great thinkers and risk takers.  But it's also clear they couldn't have maintained what they had without slave labor. 

Which gives me pause to contemplate how not having slaves would've changed the evolution and progression of our country.  Wow...think about that one...how would the complexion of our country be different without the savagery and indignity cursed upon one man for the gain of another. 

Never mind, it's easier not to think about it :/. 

(Heather was already thinkin' about it with her comment in the Jefferson post...).

7.  Eat your heart out, Miss Congeniality!

One of our nights, dinner was scheduled in Old Town, a section of Alexandria, Virginia.  Old Town is a wonderful district, the perfect place to walk and dine and shop and people watch.  It's on the Potomic River, and the architecture bleeds history.  It's very animal friendly--I wish I could've gotten my camera in the "ready position" fast enough when I actually saw a woman walking her dog that was riding in a baby stroller (arms on the bar in front, tongue hanging out, happy as a lark!), but she was out of sight quickly.  Everywhere you turned pets were walking their owners, and not surprising few were mutts (this is the high-rent district)...tons of (I'm guessing here) purebreds.

Anyway, dogs were not the "top" memory here, Jamey Turner was.  Remember Sandra Bullock's talent in "Miss Congeniality"?  Well, her coach must've been Jamey. 

We walked to the Marina after dinner--the weather was fantastic all week long!--and as we rounded a corner, there he was with dozens of water-filled brandy snifters. A fantastic entertainer, Jamey knew how to work the crowd.  He held us captive as long as we were "allowed" to stay (tour guide Miss Joy kept us moving...you'll "meet" her later...), and I've never seen a street musician's hat sooo full of tens and twenties, there had to have been hundreds of dollars.  Interestingly, he was in Chattanooga the week before we saw him, so we could've seen him here AND there.  This guy has played concert halls and been featured on all the major networks, but he seems to delight in being up close and personal with his audience.  His joy was as palpable as Miss Cleaning Lady's in #9 above. 

A disclaimer:  Sorry the quality isn't better...this is with our digital camera and I always seemed to begin a bit late.  Also, my seat partner, David, aka "Bama" (so named by me because he wore an Ala-freakin-bama tee shirt every.day.!) was drafted to play wrench.

6.  Library of Congress

Sadly, I'm having trouble saying this correctly now, for which I deserve to be cursed.  God-love-her 76-year-old tour guide self Miss Joy referred to it as "Libary of Congress"...which gave me giggly reason to bastardize it even more, calling it "Libary of Commerce" and now I can't seem to get it right.  I sound rather ignorant, which, like I said, I deserve, because I shouldn't have been having fun with Miss Joy, mocking her and all, and I'm really sorry, but it was funny, so it was worth it at the time.  SHE didn't mind when I called it that, but now, well, now it's not funny anymore.  And I can't seem to alter my teeth, tongues and lips to say "liBRARY".  It's kind of like when you tell your kids not to make faces because they'll get stuck like "that"...  I'm stuck like that :/.

Anyway, this was my first visit to the L of C.  In three words, a maze ing!  Have I used that word before?  Can you tell I love D.C.?  Get this, we barely saw any books; the L of C is housed in three separate buildings, and we toured the oldest, The Thomas Jefferson Building built in 1897.  We wondered around for about 45 minutes (not nearly long enough) and I'd recommend you scheduling a tour so you could have a full appreciation of what you're looking at. 

I don't know the language of architecture but this place was stunning.  STUNNING.  This is NOT a place to leave out when you're visiting the area, trust me.  Even if you burn books for a living, you will STILL thank me for insisting you visit.  And plan the guided tour. 

Whew...this is enough for now.  I'll finish with the remaining "Top Tens" later.  Long posts wear me out...writing AND reading them ;).