Reviewing Last 2010 Resolutions

Now is the time to reflect on the success of last year's resolutions.  Based on my blog this time last year, I had five pretty solid resolutions.  Let's see how I did...

1) Fix Body.  I gained 12 pounds this year and almost passed out bringing the laundry upstairs.  Guess we can say I did meet this one.

2) Fix Person.  Really?  For the first time EVER I actually hit my son.  Oh he deserved it and much more, but that is certainly not the intent of being a better mom.  Second one down.

3) Fix House.  Well I hired someone to replace the driveway, does that count?  Never touched a paint brush there year.  Strike 3.

4) Fix Mind.  Mainly I wanted to be calmer. Although my son and husband kept me laughing - does that count. We' ll say maybe to this one.

5) Fix Career.  I did start a new job but I did not publish anything.  I submitted a short story to a contest - didn't win but let's call this one a success.  Baby steps.

The bad news is I am still screwed up and need to address the same things in 2011.  The good news is I don't have to write a new list, the old one is just fine :-).

Happy New Year.

Sick Puppy

If you know me, you are aware that I am not what they call an animal person.  Not the one to coo in front of the SPCA outlet in the mall or to pet every dog I see when walking mine.  It's not that I am against them, actually I am quite fond of them especially in the form of coats, belts and boats.

Today however I experienced the epitome of emotional turbulence surrounding my pet.  My head split into two parts:  compassionate and annoyed.  On our early morning walk, the dog experienced constipation.  Understanding what my husband does for a living, you know who made the diagnosis.  Actually the dog squatting with his back and tail arched, while he did a little two step hop across the lawns of Ashland, gave us the first clue.  He continued like this for about 20 minutes.  Keep in mind it is cold out and I was losing patience (annoyed) but I did feel sorry as he looked like he was in pain (compassionate).  Eventually he was...how shall I say... a bit successful in his endeavor.  Now he is having trouble and making quite a mess of himself.

I can't let him in the house while he is doing this.  So he stays outside while my husband and I take a shower ( Sounds like we did that together - not today, too much to do).  Anyway, we come downstairs and the dog us outside; he has made a mess of himself but is shivering from the cold.  My fabulous husband cleans the dog, brings him in and goes off to work. Hopefully this is not a prelude for the rest of his work day.

I decide to work in the kitchen today so as to keep an eye on the pet.  Well he starts "messing" the kitchen.  I rush to take him outside.  Now he has made another mess of the backyard and himself.  I go outside, shovel the yard and clean the patio.  Now I try to clean the dog.  As I do that, he proceeds to bite me. Of course no one is available to fix this, so I need to take care of it.  Ugh.

I bring the dog in the house, take him into the basement washroom and give him a soak in a hot bath.  If you have tried to wash your pet, you will know this is not an easy or clean task.  While bathing him, he bites me two more times. Maybe I should just leave him in the tub (annoyed).  I proceed to lather him up with my specialty shampoo (could not find dog shampoo in the house because we take him to the groomer for baths).  Dry off the dog, place him in his bed and finally get to go back to work.

Kid wakes up and we both go upstairs to check on the cleanliness of his room - its not, surprise surprise. Unfortunately we left the kitchen door open, the dog followed and proceeded to make a mess in my son's room.  Grab him and take him outside AGAIN.  Kid cleans up the room.  I am back to dog sanitation.

Dog is shaking now. We cover him with a blanket and Max holds him trying to make him feel better.  Now the dog is looking bad.  He is moaning.  Max gets the blow dryer and proceeds to dry him off.  Keep in mind he has only been outside for 5 minutes tops.  Dog then proceeds to vomit all over the place.  I get to clean up the floor, the kid and the dog.

I text the husband for help.  He is operating and not coming home.  I go online to see what is wrong with the dog. No clue, call the vet.  Max continues to hold him - we switch off (compassionate).  We finally calm the dog down and now he seems exhausted.  He is resting by my feet as I work and gets up to follow me whenever I get up. I let him sit on my lap as I type (compassionate).  We decide to keep an eye on him tonight and call the vet if anything changes.  Looks like I will be bringing him in this week.

Dog seems ok now but will have to wait until tomorrow to be sure.  This all took place before 9:30 am. Plan on rewashing, polishing the hardwoods after work and buying a new dog bed.  As much as that dog annoys  me, I love him as part of the family and although I am disgusted by the clean up, I am relieved that he is resting comfortably.  Maybe I am more of an animal person than I thought...no, I am not.

After thinking about it, this is the perfect end of year metaphor.  Cleaning up the sh#$ but relieved that everyone is ok.

Putting Away Christmas

The only holiday I decorate for is Christmas.  When Max was younger I used to do all of the holidays from paper Valentines on the windows in February to semi-scary looking witches on the front lawn in October.  Slowly but surely the joy of holiday decorating turned into a desperate need for a ride to parties in the burbs and an open palm for "spending money".  Without Max's desire to decorate I let it all go...except of course for Christmas.

Because I host Christmas Eve for about 30 guests each year, I feel obligated to make the holiday festive and that includes full on wooden soldiers, sparkling ornaments, huge fresh tree, Victorian elves and of course lights.  Painstakingly I unpack each ornament and relive a former Christmas.  There are the red threaded apples that my sister and I always hid in the back of our tree growing up because they weren't colorful or sparkly. There is the paper ornament with Max's photo as a three year old in a cowboy hat - he wore that hat for 2 years straight.  There is the ornate Madonna ornament Matty and I purchased our first holiday in Michigan.  I continue with each room.  Green feathered trees and silver beads for the family room;  red/gold ribbons with towering amaryllis for the dining room; Radko ornaments for the silk tree; old time Santas for the mantle, the boxes are everywhere.  It only takes a couple of days to put it together and I actually love the time sitting with a holiday cocktail admiring the effort upon completion

Then it is December 26th and I want it all gone. I find the decor unbearable. The soldiers take on an evil clown quality and the lights remind me of flashing strip club signs.  The whole house looks tacky and cheap.  How quickly it all changes.  It needs to be out of sight..the holiday is over and I am ready to start a new year - one without those obnoxious decorations.

How do you put it all away?  Boxes and boxes and boxes.  This time I don't wait until I am finished... I start the cocktail as I take down the first piece of garland. Seems so depressing.  I close my eyes and pray the holiday fairies will clean it all up while I sleep.  No such luck.  I must put Christmas away.  This takes the entire week between Christmas and New Year.  Mainly because I hate doing it but also because Matty would prefer the decorations stay up until Three Kings.  Ugh.  So I find myself putting away a little at a time so he won't really notice.  Pretty sad but by Jan.1 - the house is back to normal.

No time to write, time to put away more ugliness.  Be gone poinsettias; back to your cabinet wooden soldiers. With the decorations,  pack away the year.  But the bad in the box and store it deep in the basement.  Pour another cocktail and fill another box.

Time to Revive

You probably thought this blog was dead.  But no, it has simply been in a coma deadened by a new job, a son starting high school, an overworked husband and frankly a lack of interest.  However, with so much to say and no other outlet, it is time to defibrillate.

I'm thinking of ways to make it better...  mainly for me ... but also to elicit more comments.  Seems I am more annoyed than ever with the news, with the general population and with daily encounters.  Maybe the older I get, the more cynical I become or maybe it's just that everyone is getting dumber.  Hmm, probably shouldn't "revive" with such a bitter attitude.  Looks like there will be plenty of fodder.

You may have also noticed that I changed the photo and caption to the right.  Max and I are being silly in Disney when my family went over Thanksgiving.  There were 20 of us, 16 from Buffalo.  Quite the adventure, but that will be another blog.  With all of us in the most magical place, I had visions of family photos chronicling this once in a lifetime vacation.  My camera had other visions, all of which were dark, red images.  Guess how many family group shots I have...big fat zero!  Anyway, I will be showing more personal photos on this blog.  Of course, I will need to get a new camera.

So let's start 2011 with some observations and ruminations. Hello Again Blogosphere.  Round two.

Itsy Bitsy Spider

Not so itsy and quite expensive.

As the weather cooled, I decided it was time to pu ton the furnace.  Cranked it up Saturday morning but it did not seem to go on.  Called the good doctor who tried his best as well but you know its not his expertise.

Sunday morning we awoke freezing.  I say freezing but actually it was 64.  I like a balmy 72 - ALL THE TIME.  Anyway, the furnace is broke.  Keep in mind this thing is only 4 years old and cost a fortune so the damn thing should be working.  It appears the indicator light is flashing two quick red lights and then stalls for 3 secs and repeats.  According to the manual - can you believe we found it - that means Furnace #2 is down.  How can I even tell which furnace is one or two?

Called the repair guy.  The phone operator stated he would call before he came over but that did not happen, so he was greeted with a less than cleansed woman still in her jammies.  I take him downstairs and he asks me which furnace is the problem.  Seriously?  I don't even know how many I have!  Figure it out fix it guy.

After 1/2 hour and a lot of parts on the floor he comes up to show me an elbow pipe the size of your finger that has some white stuff stuck in it.  Apparently it is a spider web.  He pushes on it and low and behold he comes the creator....still alive!  That damn spider built his web in an integral piece of my furnace.

Problem solve, the furnace is put back together within the hour.  Oh this little animal encounter?  Cost me $212.

Anticipating the Weekend

You may recall that the boys and I are Scuba certified.  I hesitate to call myself more than an occasional vacation diver, but I do enjoy it.  My son is a little more adventurous doing a drift dive in the Niagara River and my husband is one dive away from his Advanced Diver certification.

So the wonderful husband scheduled a dive trip for the three of us for this weekend.  Granted this is probably the worst weekend to go away seeing as school just started, I am in the midst of a new job and we have about 10 birthdays to celebrate.  But it was thoughtful and he is really excited.  A weekend away looking a ship wrecks 70 ft below the surface.

Seems harmless enough until I get the details.  First of all the location is 6 hours away in upper Canada.  It appears that the hotel we are staying at is on park grounds and that park closes at 11pm so we must, must, must get there Friday night before the gate goes down or we are sleeping in the car.  Also, Sunday we need to be back home to attend an info session on Max's POTENTIAL trip to Japan, which means we must, must, must leave Sun morning before 8 am.  That's about 12 hours of driving for 5 hours of diving.

Well, we have had tight schedules in the past so this isn't that bad.

Until I hear the next part.  I need a 7mm we suit because the water can be as cold as 40 degrees.  You heard me - only a few degrees above FREEZING. The packing list includes gloves, coats and hats to put on in between dives because it is so damn cold.  Did I mention we have 4 dives Saturday?  In between we sit on board wet with cold water.

I spent close to $1000 on wet suit, hood, gloves and more weights as the suit will make me more buoyant.  I can't even bend my arms it is so thick.  Image the shoes I could have bought for this price tah.

Let me paint this picture. Before entering water I am loaded down with a black wet suit and full vest, hood which covers my entire head only the face peering through, gloves, slippers and fins, a bc loaded with air tank and a regulator in my mouth, leaping off the side of the boat.  Once I finish the first dive, I I am back on a swaying boat.  My hands and feet are blue (I have Rinaud's syndrome).  My 7mm wet suit is on from the bottom down, from the top up I am wearing layers of fleece, a winter hat and most likely a blanket.  You know my nose is running cuz I am still dealing with allergy season.  I remove the blanket to periodically vomit over the side of the boat, because I am continually motion sick.

What happened to beautiful fish and coral under the sun as the water glistens on my warm skin?
I will try to get photos for next week.

No one can say I am not adventurous!

Watching Fireflies

Did you know firefly populations are shrinking?  Did you also know that over 700 people have volunteered to journal their insect observations in an attempt to help scientists discover this potential extinction of the glowing insect?

Tons of volunteers tracking fireflies.

I am amazed that people will go so far as to track the appearance of fireflies but are too busy to:

Vote
Write a thank you note
Give to a food bank
Read to their kids

Maybe I an cynical, and its not that I have some aversion to fireflies, its just very odd to me that all those people would jump to this cause but let seemingly more urgent issues pass them by.

Time Shuffle

Hopefully you have noticed that I have not been writing lately.  Bad news I have not had the time.  Good news is I have taken a new job.  Could not be more excited about the company and the opportunity but it means my schedule is a mess.

I have always been that early morning riser.  Getting things done as soon as possible in the day just in case something comes up later in the afternoon.  The adjustment is subtle.  I still get up at 5:30 am but now I need to shower, get dressed, get the kid off to high school and get myself out the door.   Takes some re-alignment.

I have too many yet not enough calendars.  Trying to sync my work, committee and home calendar with that of my husband's work and home calendar and my son's school calendar is becoming a nightmare to do electronically.  Odd huh?  its just that my son does not update his and my husband's integration is not happening.  So back we go to color coded white board in kitchen.  We each have a color and one which means the entire family is needed.  The boys have committed to updating it, watching it and living by it.  Every month we will sit down and update.

So as I shuffle my schedule I will try to update my blog as possible. But writing time is fighting with yoga time so we will see.

The Bat Hunter

My husband and I were walking back to our house after a strenuous yet peaceful yoga session.  Our conversation ( borderline bicker over whose flamingo pose was stronger) was suddenly halted as we see our son racing from the house dressed ... peculiarly.  He was wearing sneakers, pajama bottoms, a hoodie, scarf, gloves and googles.  It is nighttime and about 80 degrees.  What the hell is going on?

My first reaction was that he was higher than a kite and we are going to have issues.  I yell out "What the hell is going on?"  So much for that calm serene yoga afterglow.  He screams that there is a giant bat in the house.  Interesting choice for bat fighting gear, but at least i don't have to worry about drugs tonight.

Apparently he was walking past the library and saw it fly by.  He ran upstairs, closed his bedroom door and suited up.  Called both our cells, which of course were not next to us in our yoga class, and then realized he had to act.  Not wanting us to enter the house and be attacked,  he left his room, past the crazy flying monster, grabbed the dog and went outside.

When we got into the house, the bat was going crazy racing from upstairs to down and back again.  My husband trapped him in our son's room.  Our son was behind the door outside the room asking for the play by play.  Just then I hear a little girl screech...no that was my teenage son after seeing the bar squeeze under his door and pass his feet.

Over an 1 hour of chasing, screaming and me hiding, the bat was lead out the kitchen door.  He was the largest bat I had ever seen with what had to be a 2 foot wing span.  This is our first and hopefully last visitor of the season.  Back to Home Depot to get a new low pitch audio device to keep them out!

I only wish I had a photo of my son the BAT HUNTER.  Later that night, our "fearless" bat hunter was searching for rabies symptoms sure that somehow that bat bit him without his knowledge.

Nieces and Nephews

My sister and her kids came into town this weekend and it was two days of full family.  Starting at my mom's house all 20 or so of use had a bbq.  This involved lots of eating, drinking and laughing while the kids ran around with squirt guns, frisbees and lacrosse sticks.

The kids range in age from the youngest Helana at 3 to the oldest my baby at 14.  They played together marvelously.

Then my brother offered to take all the kids for a sleepover at his place.  Trampoline, swimming, late movies and more laughter.  Sunday was my turn. Bring the group to Elmwood to walk, shop and once again eat.  The kids played in the hot tub and ran through all three floors of the house.  It was awesome to see all the cousins enjoying each other so much.

Not forgetting the adults, we spent the time discussing everything from teacher salaries, past indiscretions, kid issues to our futures.  My family may make me crazy on a fairly regular basis but I realize how fortunate I am to have them as a support network and balancing foundation.

Check out these beauties!

Email Virus

Woke up this morning to find that some medical company worm got into my hotmail account and sent ALL my contacts a bogus email regarding pharmaceuticals.   So now I am getting emails from people I have not spoke to in years, asking what the hell I am doing.

I subscribed to this email account back when email first started.  Seriously.  I have used it for something like 20 years.  I have every parent in my son's class in that list,  every person I  worked with or for, every board member from every board I have served on and all my friends and family.  I am so completely embarrassed by this.

Now I will need to cancel my account and create a new one.  Big Giant Pain In the A$%.

If you received such a link from me, I am very sorry and have no idea what happened.

Embarrassed at Yoga

I love doing yoga.  Several years ago,  I would practice about 3 times a week and never felt better.  After the pace maker I stopped going.  Well my wonderful husband bought us yoga classes for the next 6 weeks.    It is awesome to get back into it.

Usually I mock my hubby during this time.  He has been known to laugh at the participant's flatulence; expose some serious crack during the downward dog, snoring during our srivasana  and get stuck in a binding pose.  I know I am being mean when he is so sweet to do this to me. But I think I am better at this and there are few things I do better than my husband. Not too competitive huh?

So last night we are at yoga and I am feeling a little off.  It is warm and I am tired.  During our floor stretches I notice my husband is pretty flexible so of course I need to one up him in the balancing pose.  He pushes me over.  We wonder why the kid gets in trouble in school when he has two parents yuking it up at yoga.  Anyway, it was a great class and we are ready to rest.

The last five minutes of class you lie down and completely relax.  Usually our favorite part.  The instructor pulls you out of this relaxation with three chime rings.  A gentle awakening.  I don't know why, it could have been the low lights and slight breeze from the window, but I fell asleep.  This never happens.  I don't even fall asleep that fast when I am trying.  I am out cold.  Did not hear the chimes.  Next thing I know I hear the instructor.  I jump up to see that the entire class is in the sitting pose (I am lying down) and looking in my direction. Mortified I jump into the sitting pose in time to say Namaste.


Gathering what little pride I have left, we leave the room and start our walk home.  I look at my husband and chastise him for not waking me. "Why didn't you nudge me or say something?"  He gives me that sneaky look and states "Apparently I am the better yoga master who can control my body and mind".

Hubby 1:  Bonnie 0

Drug Test Questions

I am starting a new job and they require a background check and drug test.  So this morning I left the house at 7:00 am to drive to Rochester for my mandatory test.  Asked my son to go along for the ride and keep me company.

Hour fifteen minutes there, three minutes to pee in cup, and an hour fifteen back.  The conversation on the way back was worth the drive.  My teenage son found it hysterical that I would have to take a drug test.  His questions and scenarios were non-stop.

KID:  What do they test for?  Prescription drugs, pot, etc?
ME:  Cocaine and marijuana.
KID:  Why not crack and heroin?
ME:  Because if I was on crack or heroin I would not have been able to make it past the first interview.
KID:  Do drug addicts use other people's urine?  How about animals?  Raccoons?
ME: You cannot use animal urine.  Its different.
KID: How?  They eat meat and vegetation like us.  What if the raccoon ate people food?  Urine is just waste right?
ME:  Are we really having this conversation?
KID:  I guess it is ridiculous because you could never get a raccoon to pee in a cup. (shy smile)

Then we moved to all the nicknames for drugs he "learned" through health class and why the drugs were called those names.  Moving on to who discovered certain drugs?  What if you accidentally used drugs in your food, like coccaine thinking it was sugar.

Then onto what if you fail the test.  I won't I don't do drugs.  What if there is some mix up? Aren't you concerned that your new employer thinks you're a drug user?  What did you wear on your interview?  I told you the eye makeup makes you look dark and evil...some would say strung out.

Seriously, he kept me discussing this topic for the full hour and fifteen minutes home. I tried to interject continually with the dangers of drugs and how I will kill him if he ever tries them.

As we pulled into the driveway he showed me the business card he took from the testing place.  Claimed he was going to let all his friends know that he had to accompany me to mandatory drug testing. Should get some lovely calls from parents this month.

Shopping with my Nieces

Last week I decided I wanted to purchase some new work clothes.  My sister, also my ultimate favorite shopping buddy, suggested we go to Lord and Taylor.  I was thrilled, as we haven't had a shopping trip in years and she is so attentive.  One stipulation, can the girls come?  Her girls are the most adorable toddlers in the entire world.  Of course I would love it if they joined us.  It's time to start their training.  Little did I know that the shopping experience would be so very different.

First issue is that I am used to being the center of attention while shopping with sis.  Sis had to keep the girls in check.  Ok I was jealous, but because I am the grown up had to refrain myself.  Nice huh that I was jealous of the kids attention by their mother - might be a little selfish.

The little ladies are picking out tons of clothes.  I have to explain to the youngest that Aunt Bonnie does not wear giant geometric patterns in earth tones and that she should never as well.  The oldest had some really good pics.  Holding about 6 outfits, we decide its time to go into the dressing room.

My sister convinces the girls to come into the dressing room by telling them I will be giving a fashion show of all these clothes.  Yeah.  Keep in mind even the handicapped dressing rooms are a little tight for 2 adults and two toddlers, not to mention catwalk precision.  In we go.

In the dressing room, the girls notice that I am wearing high heels ( 4 inches).  As I am stripping down, one hugs my legs while the other rubs the shoes.  I am toppling, but manage to avoid crushing their little hands.  I put on the first outfit, both girls insist that I dance.  WHAT?  Well of course when you are doing a fashion show for toddlers you must dance.  So I am in the dressing room, in an lovely Tahari black suit and heals, bouncing swaying and shaking to my nieces' version of the Lemonaide song.  My sister is rolling on the floor laughing.   Might be time to try something different.

We leave this store and head to Sephora for makeup.  My eldest niece finds the perfume aisle. Being the good aunt, I find a bright pink bottle and tell her to hold out her wrist so I can spray her.  I sprayed her right in the eye and the poor thing is hysterical.  I am a horrible aunt and feeling terrible.  We rush to the rest room to wash out the evidence.  I think it is time for ice cream.

This was quite the experience.  I never bought so little and laughed so hard while shopping.  Might need to resort to the online stores.

A Simple Greeting Required

I hate to be ignored.  Surprised?  It's bad enough being ignored in a conversation but lately I have noticed being ignored on the street.  Let me explain.  I was casually walking on Elmwood when I see an acquaintance in the window of a coffee shop.  He is sitting with two women, looks right at me, recognized me and turns away without a "hi" or a smile.  I smiled and lifted my hand to wave, but he already turned away.  Why?

Last week I was in the grocery store, it was pretty crowded.  I friend is at the end of the aisle, I swear she sees me and turns around.   I chase after her, actually just walked quickly but she was gone. What is happening here?

I make it a point to at least say HI to anyone I know when I see them.  That's common courtesy isn't it?  When someone turns away I feel they are trying to hide something.  Maybe they are doing something they don't want you to see.  What are you hanging out with drug dealers and planning attacks  It's ridiculous.  Or is it simply that they cannot be bothered to say a simple greeting.  Do I talk too much?  Probably, but please I  know a  simple greeting when it is appropriate.

I joke with one friend who I see completely put together in the morning while I am looking a little shall we say haggard.  When we pass on our walks I smile and cover my face, saying "You did not see me - I look terrible".  We laugh and continue on.

So here's the thing.  If you see me, stop and say hi or wave or give me a big smile.  I will not bother you and it will make me feel that you are indeed a friend and that you are not hiding anything.  If not I will hunt you down, make a fool of myself and keep you talking for at least 1/2 hour!

Gone Again

We dropped Max off at camp yesterday and already the house is feeling empty and quiet.  Everything changes when he is away.  Granted I get so much more done.  THe cab driver role and house cleaner role are very time consuming when you have a teenager.

This week we will eat differently.  No real meals, unless its a salad.  Most likely we will go out for a cocktail before dinner and then just catch some appetizers.

This week we will relax differently.  No games or playing cards or tackling each other.  Most likely we will take long walks and read.

This week the house will be clean.  Big difference.  Less laundry, no more glasses and food in the family room, no stray GatorAide bottles or candy rappers, no sweatshirts on the kitchen table or sporting equipment blocking the door entrances.

This week will be quiet.  No new ipod sounds, no screaming video games, no non-stop text messaging.  No never ending stories, no non-stop questions, no hysterical laughing.

I can't wait until Max come home.

Qualified Advice

I have a problem with people who give unsolicited advice, especially when they are not qualified to give advice on the subject they are pontificating about.  Here are a few people who should either keep quiet or refrain from adamantly distributing garble.

- Uncle who borrowed money but insists on discussing how to manage retirement funds
- Friend who has never entered a gym discussing the problems with exercise routines
- Overweight acquaintance scoffing at cleansing or fasting programs
- Unemployed mother barking about the trials of full time employment
- Childless couple discussing the parental discipline choices
- Public school parents insulting the private school education
- Conservatives benefiting from public aid while slamming the democratic government's hand on approach

This list could go on but for now I think that's enough.

The Need for Jam

Did you ever find yourself with an intense desire for jam?  Sounds ridiculous but it happened to me.

We were in Hershey PA this weekend for a LAX tournament. With temperatures approaching 100 degrees  and the idea of high intensity thrill rides making me sick, my wonderful husband agreed to take the kids to the amusement park so a friend and I could explore PA.  Did you know Hershey is right in the heart of Amish country? I had never been and thought it would be a kitchy way to spend an afternoon.

We parked in a little town with the most adorable shops.  All I could think of was my mother mentioning that the Amish make great jam.  I must have jam.  Lots and lots of jam.  We rarely eat jam or jelly regularly but the desire was overwhelming.  The first stop was much like a market with quilts, hand sewn linens and much food stuff... especially jam.  Jam and jelly and preserves.  After about 10 minutes looking at each flavor, I settled on Sweet Cherry and Rhubarb.  Maybe spread on a turkey sandwich?

Next we went into an antique place.  Right outside we saw more jam options.  This time I had to get boysenberry AND blueberry.  I was feeling a purple.  Maybe on toast or waffles?

While walking to the quilt store, I bought fudge and my friend bought whoopie pies.  Yummy.  No jam, do I have enough.  Bought apple butter instead.  Now starting to think I may have a problem.  What do you put apple butter on?  I think my sister likes it so consider it a souvenir.

It's getting late and we have to go to the yarn store.  Right outside I see one more jam stand.  The amish girl is adorable and so sweet.  Of course I will buy just one more.  Zucchini Jam.  It is made with zucchini, sugar, crushed pineapple, jello, hello and lemon juice.  Can the Amish buy jello?  What do you do with zucchini jam?  I cannot even make up a recipe for this one.  Had to have it.  Now I know I am over the edge.

Go into the yarn store to distance myself from the sugary purchasing addiction.  Low and behold, this store is the mecca of hand dyed yarn.  New addiction?  Oh yes.  I need alpaca yarn and wool and specialty colors and patterns and and and....

Maybe I can eat all that jam while I am knitting.  I think I like Amish country!  Maybe I should consider retirement there...

Beach Day Leftovers

Decided I wanted to spend the day at the beach with my nieces and nephews.  Coordinated a date with my sister and sister-in-law, organized a list of who brings what and prayed for a sunny day.  That morning it all seemed to come together.  The weather was beautiful.    I packed everyone's specific favorite sandwich, a case of water and a case of GatorAide.  Made sure we had clean bathing suits and towels, plenty of sun screen and our ipods.  Off we go!

The kids had a wonderful time, playing in the sand and specifically just being with each other.  Plus I had an opportunity to talk to my sisters in peace while my son entertained the other kids.  Pure bliss with a tan.

The beach day was a great idea except for the next day.  I brought back half the sand that is now adorning my patio and driveway.  I had a cooler full of uneaten soggy sandwiches and grass (where did we pick up grass?).  I got off easy though.   My sister called to say her girls have rashes all over their stomaches, chests and arms.  The doctor's first question "Were the kids at the beach or in a hot tub?"  Not a fun thing to bring back from the beach.  A little cortizone cream and time, they will be fine.

At least we have photos!

You Gotta Regatta

My son rows at West Side Rowing over the month of July.  It is a summer camp program and he has been doing it for the past three years.  He loves it.  So mush so that we got him a ERG machine so that he could practice rowing at home...and he actually uses it.  He enjoyed the camp so much that he has decided to try out for the crew team at Nichols.  I think he has an awesome shot at making it.

Last Thursday he had his regatta and his boat came in first.  I have been praising this sport because I feel it is less dangerous.  Lacrosse players get beat up, football players get crunched, snowboarders break bones and my son has even come home from squash with some black and blue marks.  His only injury from rowing has been sore muscles.  This regatta however sowed that crew like all sports can still be dangerous. The first boat my son's boat raced was significantly behind them.  As my sons boat's crossed the finish line, one of the motor boats rammed into the opposed craft and knocked the bow rower into the canal.  She was quickly retrieved and ok.  The crowd was amazed as was I.  It just goes to show you that all sports have risks and all athletes need to be prepared.

Even with this accident, I am a fan.  If you have not been exposed to crew, let me recommend it.  It is a high endurance, high strength sport.  A team sport with no physical confrontation of the team members.  They must all work in synchronicity and it  is a beautiful thing to watch.

Weekend Essentials

Forgot to pack for the weekend - I know seems like something I would remember to do, right?  Well I had about 5 minutes to pack for three days and two nights.  Here are the essentials:

Toothbrush
deodorant
hair brush
2 pair shorts/2 shirts
undies
pjs
Book/glasses
camera

Was able to pack in record time.  I think I am becoming a pro at this.

Purpose of a Confirmation Number

Can someone tell me the purpose of a confirmation number?  I had always thought it was the consumer's security or proof that a reservation had been made.  While I am at it, maybe someone could also explain to me the purpose of a reservation.  I had assume a reservation meant you reserved an item, which meant it would be available to you at a certain time and price.  Based on this week's events and the TERRIBLE customer service of BUDGET Rental, I have been wrong in my assumptions and thoughts.

Let me start with our friends at Hilton Hotels last week Friday.  We had booked a room in April at a Hilton Hotel near Albany.  The hotel was recommended by the tournament we were attending.  We went online, left all our information including credit card, and received our confirmation number.  Since that booking we have received weekly marketing emails from the Hilton.  Our arrival date was confirmed as Friday, July 16th and we were informed that we could not check in prior to 3pm.  Also, if we cancelled prior to 24 hours, our credit card would be billed for the entire amount.  Thursday, July 15th we received an email confirming our room and stressing the cancellation policy.

We arrive at the Hilton at 5:30pm on Friday (our confirmed arrival date) and we are informed that they do not have a room for us.  Well there must be a mistake because we made reservations, have a confirmation number and even received a reminder confirmation less than 25 hours ago from your company.  The manager apologies, states she realizes we had a room booked but they do not have a room.  So she will be sending us to the Holiday Inn Express.  But we have the damn confirmation number!

After explaining to her, that my son's team is staying at this hotel and that we just drove 5 hours and that we have dinner reservations with friends in 1 hour, she said not to worry the Holiday Inn is fine.  We tried to be adult about it.  She said the HIlton would pick up the tab for our room at the Holiday Inn and sent us away with a form letter.  Apparently this happens all the time.

I can understand a mistake and at least the hotel tried to compensate us, but why were we the ones who were booted out to stay at an inferior hotel?  We chalked it up to poor hotel management and forgot about it.

This Friday we were once again struck with the irrelevance of the reservation and confirmation number.  We are driving with friends to Hershey PA for another lax tournament and felt out SRX was not big enough.  Tuesday we visited BUDGET car rental and discussed options with the manager there.  That afternoon we went home and reserved a Ford Explorer for Friday pick up by 11 am.  Once again we gave all information, including credit card and received our all holy confirmation number.  Thursday we received our reminder email with the cancelation policy reiterated.  If we did not pick up the car by 11, our card would be charged and we would lose the reservation.

Friday at 10 am we went to the beastly BUDGET and were told they did not have our vehicle AND four other people were waiting for one ahead of us.  But we have a reservation and a confirmation number.  The woman actually said "Well what do you want me to do?  We don't have the vehicle?"  Not  even an apology!  So what are we to do?  We need to leave in an hour and we have no vehicle.  My husband calls corporate bullshitters at Budget to find the exact same response.  No customer service what so ever and no compensation for our nightmare.  Not even a nice apology.  Simply cocky, arrogant sarcasm.

We are boycotting BUDGET and ask you to do the same.  I have no recourse as a customer, except to stop using them.  I plan on writing a poor review to EVERY online entity available to me as well as working on a letter to the editor.   It will be time consuming but it will at least be something I can do.

So someone please help me ... what is the purpose of the reservation and the confirmation number?

Inception

The boys and I went to see the movie Inception last night.  Although I am not a fan of Leonardo DiCaprio, I loved this movie.  The idea was innovative, the imagery was spectacular, and the story was thrilling.  Imagine being able to enter someone's dreams and architect the setting?

Stop reading and go see this cinematic jewel!

Cause of Insanity: Fly

Yesterday evening I was pretty sure that the title of this blog was what my medical records were going to say if I was unable to kill the persistent demon flying around my study.  For three days I have heard a constant buzzing around my head whenever I sat at my desk, adjusted the stereo, looked for a book or worked on my computer.  Frankly it was making me crazy.

The disgusting insect was channelling some Charles Manson energy, as was evident by his mind games.  He would not leave the study.  So I would forget about him when I left that room.  Forget until I sat down to work on the computer.  Then he would give me just enough time to really get into what I was doing before he started circling my head.   Or I would chase him around the windows for an hour only to have him disappear.  Where did he go?  I would leave the room only to enter after a couple hours and have the whole ordeal start again.

I am also pretty sure he had a cloaking device because I could hear him even though I could not see him.

It was man (woman) against beast (insect) and I was losing.  Of course he would not appear or make a sound when I brought my husband or son into the room.  No he was too smart for that.  The irritation was just for me.

Today the stars were aligned and the better man won.  He stopped on the window and I grabbed my son's wallet from the desk.   The rest is Darwinian history.  Fly: 0 Bonnie: 1.

Congratulations on Your Horrible Day

I have been thinking about celebrations.  How whenever something good happens, your friends and family ask how you plan on celebrating or everyone gets together to celebrate.  That is all well and good however, I think that is when you least need a party.  We should change the norm to have a get together or party when you are feeling low.

For example, you just lost your job.  Now would be a good time for your friends to get together and take you out.  First you are probably worrying about money so it would be nice if someone else paid.  Plus they can cheer you up.  Or when you lost the game, failed the test, missed the opportunity.  Isn;t this when you need a couple cocktails and laughs?

When good things happen I am already pretty happy and the win is the best celebration of all.

I'll work on this and let you know if it is successful.  If not, I will need a party :-)

New OnLine Obsession

As is evident by the mere existence of this blog, I have delusions of writing grandeur.  Some people fantasize about being a movie star or living like a king; I fantasize about book interviews.  Hey, it could happen!

I recently found a toy to add to my dream state.  It is called "I WRITE LIKE".  You submit some text, click the analyze button and viola you now know whose writing style you follow.  Could not be easier.  I pick out a few pieces and cross my fingers that my work will resemble the greatest, significant writers the world has ever known.  I don't want a David Sedaris (sorry sir) but I would love a David Eggers.  Dare I dream of real classics - Mary Shelly, John Updike, Jack London, Ernest Hemingway, Shakespeare.  Hey again it could happen!

I submitted two flash fiction stories to be analyzed.  These are the writing samples I am most proud of and encouraged by.  One fiction claimed I write like Raymond Chandler.  Really? He is one of the greatest detective novelist but I can't really see it. Next...Douglas Adams.  Who the hell is that?  Fortunately the marketing geniuses at Amazon allow me to immediately click to all of my fellow writer's books for ease of purchase.  Dougie boy is the author of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  I thought this book was ridiculous and the movie competes with Lord of the Rings for my longest and most painful cinematic experience.  I am in trouble.

New approach, I will submit some blog entries.   Now we have something and I am feeling a little better as David Foster Wallace pops up. Granted I have never read one of his books but coincidentally Infinite Jest is on my TO READ NEXT list. All three blog samples resulted in David Foster Wallace. So this must really work right?  It is consistent.  Now I have to read him.

I should have stopped there, but now I had to press my luck.  One more blog entry.  Just when I was starting to buy it, I was analyzed with Margaret Atwood.  I read many of her books and love her.  The problem is the blog I submitted is NOTHING like her, I am sorry to say.

Either way, I am loving this.  This little exercise took about 2 hours of my time and will be a regular game for me.  What a brilliant concept.  It grabs you, so return visits to the site are guaranteed.  The site is  getting a targeted audience so advertisers should be thrilled.  Amazon immediately allows you to purchase a book by your alter ego writer.  Try it - you will be hooked.

The Most Annoying Fan

I really enjoy going to my son's lacrosse games. Granted there is a level of anxiety; worrying about how he will perform, praying that he won't get hurt, hoping that he has fun.  But even with that anxiety it is always wonderful to be involved in your baby's activities and to see him "performing".  It is also a nice time to interact with some of the other player's parents.  Usually.

That was not the case at a recent game where I met one of the most obnoxious men.  To be fair, I really don't know him outside of this particular situation, that of father of a lacrosse parent, so maybe he is a wonderful professional and human being off the field.  I had just met him so of course I was pleasant and full of small talk:  how many kids do you  have?  what other sports are they into? do your boys like playing lacrosse, blah blah blah.  Then the game starts.

Initially he is yelling plays at the team.  Not so crazy we all yell words of encouragement.  But it doesn't stop there.  He then yells at the parents yelling at the team.  Letting these parents know that the encouragement they are offering is wrong.  He moves to individual critiques of the players.  That one doesn't pass enough, that one is slow, that one couldn't make the net if he was on top of it.  My son was not playing his best.  This guy is lucky that he said nothing, or he would have had a full cup of Tim Horton's black poured over his arrogant head.

I wanted to say something.  As I am thinking of a witty remark or put down, he yells to one of the players and proceeds to explain what that particular kid is doing wrong.  I thought for sure this teenager would throw a ball at his head.  Instead, the player said "Thank you sir".  How PERFECT!  I wanted to hug that kid.  You knew he was irritated, I mean really how could you not be?  But he showed this strange dad respect and frankly shut him up.  I could not have possibly been more adult or eloquent than those simple words.  Particularly because mine comments would have included various objects and his anatomy.

This was the first game this team lost all season, so maybe the Mr. KnowItAll was accurate in his suggestions.  But it doesn't matter.  The delivery sucked.

If you really want to coach join the coaching staff otherwise try to control yourself.  Team sports are supposed to teach more than just competition and the art of winning.  They should teach sportsmanship and life lessons.  Plus shouldn't it be fun for players and fans?

Twins with Singular Perspectives

I am a twin.  My sister and I are complimentary but very different in so many ways including our political views, physical appearances, families and vacations. She has always been the nice one; the sweet one; the one who befriended the down trodden and odd.  I have always been the bitchy one.

Today is our birthday and another area where we differ.  You see Annie loves her birthday, whereas I hate any reminder that I am speeding toward my death.  I will not go gently into that dark night.  We always try to talk on our birthdays.  She lives in Chicago and it is difficult for us to get together to celebrate so at least we chat on our day.  Last year was no different.  I can't remember who called whom but I can clearly remember her voice.

She was elated.  Apparently her staff decorated her office and there were flowers, balloons and a cake.  The planned evening celebration included a pleasantly coiffed family and an expensive restaurant.  She reminisced about past celebrations and how fun it is to have everyone thinking of you.

My response was a little different.  I mentioned the aches and pains, the cynicism, the bleak future dotted with doctor visits, loss of senses and of course complete removal from participation in any marketing demographic outside of adult diapers and gravestones.  I explained my boys try to cheer me up but I prefer to wallow in self pity.

How can two people who shared a womb have such different outlooks.  All I can think is that I was first and therefore had to pave the path.  Maybe my view has always been more frightening.

Happy Birthday my optimistic twin.  Your excitement and enthusiasm for the day pokes a little sunshine into my dark mood.

A Customer Service Lesson

My home phone has been down for three days.  We have not had any issues with the phone until, surprisingly enough, the phone company came to repair the neighbor's problem.  Do you see a potential connection?

The first day I just dealt with it.  The second day I called Verizon.  You should know I am switching my phone service so this is not a feel good customer service story.  After traversing the automated voice commands, which included gathering all of my "essential" information, I waited on hold for 15 minutes to talk to a customer service rep.  The first question was for my name and phone number.  I just provided all that information to your automated response system.  The csr's comment was that she did not have any of my information on her screen.  Good thing I had to talk to the automated voice for the past 10 minutes.  Moving right along, I proceed to answer about 100 more questions and finally am allowed to explain the problem. I have no dial tone and have not for two days.  "Oh I cannot help you with that, I will need to transfer you to repairs, but first I would like to tell you about a special offer we are conducting to switch your  internet and cable service".

Are you kidding me?  The csr felt that I was primed for a sales pitch.  Let's see why wouldn't I want to buy more services from you?  I have been on the phone for 1/2 hour and have gotten nowhere.  I have repeated the same information to an automated service as well as a person and will have to repeat it again most likely to the repair department.  Most importantly, I have no phone service so one of your products does not work.  How does this make me a prime sales prospect?

Kindly, I explain the error in her judgement and make it clear that now is not the time to sell me.

Off to repairs.  Once again I answer the same questions and explain the problem. This lovely woman apologizes for my inconvenience and informs me she is checking the line now.  After I few seconds, she tells me that the line is fine.  Is there anything else she can do for me?  WHAT? You haven't done anything for me. The line is not fine or I wouldn't be calling you!  So she gives me the technical catch all and tells me to turn off all the phones, unplug them and let it rest for awhile.

It's been an  hour on my cell phone and I am late for another appointment, so I say fine and hang up.  Unplug everything and leave the house.  Guess what?  That did not fix the problem.

Now the third day, I call again.  In speaking with the automated voice I find they have my record of my problem call and would be happy to schedule an appointment for me automatically.  Twenty minutes with the automated voice, I think I am moving forward and then I am transferred to a csr who asks me the SAME DAMN questions I started with.

By now my cell phone is losing power and my head is ready to explode.  No one can come out to fix the problem for 4 days and by the way it will cost $91 for the tech visit. (Why $91, they couldn't round up?) What are my options?  I make the appointment.

Oh I know my options.  Dump Verizon.  I immediately call Time Warner Cable.  Speak with one very bright and articulate sales guy, who will have my new service installed within the week and this will bring my monthly bill down by almost $60.

We have choices.  Sure Verizon will not go out of business because I cancel my phone service (although I secretly hope they crumbling like a house of cards).  But I feel better .

Pressure Regarding the Pressure Cooker

My family recently bought me a pressure cooker.  Knowing that I enjoy cooking but am constantly complaining about not having enough time, they ever so thoughtfully found and purchased this incredible machine.

I had no idea what it was or how it worked.  Apparently I am the only one still cooking in the middle ages, because everyone else I tell about this gift raves about how their mom used one, or how they love their cooker or how they heard the model I just received is incredible.  Who knew?

Super excited about my new gift, I opened the box.  Of course it is from Williams-Sonoma (the cult continues) and I follow the directions to the letter.  The whole time I am doing this I am arguing with my husband about the differences between a crock pot and a pressure cooker.  He is not a fan of either; it's his fear of fire, specifically me burning down the house.  He has reason for this fear, but that's another story.

Every page in the book has some sort of warning.  Do not touch!  Removing with cause serious burning! Pressure may create explosion!  All i can picture is my photo in the Buffalo News with a pressure cooker lid lodged in my burnt profile while my family sits at ECMC eating the delicious veal shank with white beans I made JUST prior to the explosion.  Also starting to think maybe my thoughtful family is trying to kill me.   These warnings are pretty scary.  Do I really need to risk my life for that quick pot roast?

After the initial fears and death fantasies subside, I plan my first meal.  The easiest thing looked like potatoes, carrots and broccoli with a ham steak.  Note I don't like ham.  I never make, except for slicing it for sandwiches around Easter time.  I don't think the boys like it either.  But it looks easy and I really really want to try my new toy.

It only took 5 minutes to cook.  Keep in mind it takes about 15 minutes to build up pressure, but still it is amazing.  The cooker also moves to a warm setting automatically in case your hard working spouse is not home when he is expected. No idea if the ham was good because as I said I do not like ham.  In hindsight, I should have tried something I liked.  Talk about no confidence.

Now I want to make more.  The next dish I tried is red beans and rice.  This came out terrific and only took 30 minutes. I am cooking up a storm.  Will plan on boeuf bouruignonne, north beach cioppino and maybe even a ginger creme brulee as the week continues.

I no longer think my family was trying to kill me.  Actually they are pretty brilliant because the boys and I will never eat all this food and they know I will drop off leftovers.  Bon Appetit!

Glutes

I am waiting to check out at Wegman's yesterday and couldn't help noticing a magazine called "Glutes".  An entire magazine devoted to "your best butt ever".  How could I refrain from dropping $5.99 on this gem?

Unpack the car, pour myself some diet ice tea and open the magazine.  The table of Contents is encouraging.  Articles on how to eat to lift your bottom, what to wear to make it round and tons of exercises that only take a few minutes a day to give you the perfectly sculpted tush.  I can zap butt fat and look sexy from behind with only 16 minute workouts and in only 7 weeks time frame.  I can do this.  Already I feel my ass tightening.

Problem one. These models are ripped.  I mean like body builders.  The first few ads could not possibly be real women.  And by the way the ads are not for low fat cheese they are for things like Myofusion and Hydroxycut Max - nutritional supplements to build muscle.  Uh oh.

Problem two.   I page to the first set of 5 exercises.  A new (at least new to me) technique called plyometrics.  This will increase my caloric burn and keep my metabolism revving all day.  Cannot be easy.  The point is to jump - yes I said jump - from one position to the next.  Let me explain.  Start in a lunge position, jump and land with the opposite leg in front.  Does this sound complicated to you?  Try it, I knocked down a lamp and just about broke my knee cap.  That was the first and what appeared to be the easiest exercise.

Now I am thinking maybe I could just get this hot ass by eating right.  Upon further reading, I found problem three.  This eating plan is to build muscle not to lose weight.  Apparently it doesn't matter how tight you backside is if it is carrying an extra 10 pounds it will still look flabby.

Three strikes you're out.  The Glute magazine is now adorning my magazine rack and my "sexy" ass is sitting on the coach with a bag of chips.

Salsa Sunday

Looking for something different to do Sunday, I dragged my son to the opening concert on the steps of the Albright Knox Art Gallery.   It took a little coercion to pull him from C.O.D. on the XBOX, but the allure of an Elmwood Taco & Sub (ETS) lunch and the promise to leave him to his video games for the rest of the night seemed to do the trick.

We grabbed our backpacks, jumped on our bikes and headed out.  It's a short ride to the gallery lawn and even with the stop at ETS we arrived about 10 minutes before the band started.  The shady areas of the lawn were already crowded but we found a nice spot near the cube sculpture and settled in.  Some people had their lawn chairs and newspapers while other more romantic couples sipped wine lounging on their blankets.  It was sunny and hot but the crowd didn't seem to mind.

The MC kicked it off with a thank you to the sponsoring Buffalo News and the music began.  The latin sounds came from the band La Krema highlighted by an energetic and melodic singer equipped with plaid fedora and sunglasses.  The 4 piece horn section and  fast-as-lightening percussionist made the gallery rock.

A few couples ventured to the "dance floor" to show their latin rhythms.  The band leader started a salsa and called out his dancers.  Two couples in red and white whose hips kept up with their feet to a non-stop beat.  They were fantastic and I worked p a sweat just watching them.  I asked my son if he wanted to try a salsa with me.  I got that look.  Although he was adamant about leaving about an hour, he did spend some time translating the spanish lyrics for me.  I started questioning his language skills when one song seemed to focus on thirst and an uncle.  Ah that tuition is so worth it.

I kept my promise and we left after an hour or so.  Too soon for me.  This was a delightful way to spend a Sunday afternoon and a real gem for the Elmwood Village.  I highly recommend it!

The Salsa Dancers.

Kid is ready to go.

Zombie Walk

Living near Elmwood, you learn quickly that the cast of characters walking the street at any time of the day or night can be quite eclectic as well as scary.  This Saturday it was a little more obvious.

Minding my own business driving near West Ferry when I see a young man with blood dripping from the back of his head and down his shirt and pants.  He looked like he was staggering and the other pedestrians didn't seem to care.  Before I had time to pull off to see if I could help him, about 2 dozen more with a much more gruesome appearance, strolled past Cleveland.  No placards or signs so it couldn't be a protest, way to early for Halloween and the kids dressed and accompanying their parents meant this was not a drunken mob.  When I asked someone on the street, I was informed it it was the Fourth Annual Zombie Walk.

Talk about creativity.  What an idea.  Not really sure why but it seemed that the crowds were up for a party.  The event included costume contests, music videos creation, even food bank donations and an evening pub crawl.  People were really into it and I have to say I was pretty entertained.

Later that night I was fortunate enough to sit next to the Winner in Crowd Pleaser Category and his trophy.  His fellow zombie is a make up artist by trade. The photos do not do them  justice.

The Cult of WIlliams-Sonoma

It started simply enough, a quick peek at a catalogue or a browse through the store.  I didn't think I had a problem.  But I now realize I have drunk the Kool-Aid and am a full fledged member of the cult of Williams-Sonoma.

How it happened I do not know.  Sure I needed that dutch oven and let's face it the table lines matched perfectly with my dinnerware.  That one of a kind platter I received as a gift needed a matching bowl. I quickly moved from cooking accessories that seemed essential to keep my family fed, to tableware that could not be found anywhere else to the train heading for crazy town.

I realized I had a problem when the need to create ebelskivers became overwhelming.  No kidding I was obsessed.  In case you don't realize (obviously not a member of this cult) ebelskivers are stuffed pancakes.  How did I survive without these? How could I have raised a child without ever making him ebelskivers?  Where did I go wrong?

So I had to buy the pan, which would be useless without the turning sticks (chopsticks but  400% more $).  Well the mix would make them perfect and of course I need a variety so I might as well get the original and chocolate.  That will get boring, so throw in the cookbook.  Looks like there is a recipe for a lemon filled pancake so I better also order the lemon curd and powder sugar shaking utensil. On and on it went.  I am pretty sure I could have made an extra mortgage payment for the amount I spent on the cult that day.  Note that I did have a pretty solid excuse....I was going to throw a party to celebrate my new found ebelskivers, thrilling my deprived family.

I tried to kick it.  Throwing out the magazine as soon as it came in the mail.  Walking upstairs at the Galleria to ensure I never passed the store.  But I couldn't escape the call.  I recently had a bad relapse which included a vanilla bundt cake mix, a $20 spatula and ice cream toppings which will of course necessitate the purchase of an ice cream maker next week (couldn't carry it that day).

This is call for help.  A need for deprogramming.  Stop me before I can no longer move in my cult created kitchen.

Happy Birthday Daddy

I am fortunate enough to say I had a great childhood and still participate in a very loving family.  That statement could not be made were it not for the efforts, love and unyielding support of my father.  There is no way I could convey the love and respect I feel for my dad in a few paragraphs.  From the time I can remember he has always been there - I mean really there - for me.

As a little girl, he would play ridiculous games with me and my siblings in the pool, creating nicknames and reason after reason for laughing.  He was the one who told me how beautiful I looked in a dress and insisted we buy it without ever mentioning the price tag.  It was my dad, who interrogated my boyfriends to ensure they showed me the respect I deserved.  And it was my dad who made me know that I could go out and try anything without fear of failure because I was always welcome back home.

As an adult we discussed current topics, although his social security views were not as progressive as mine, he taught me how to stand up for myself and present my opinions intelligently and respectfully.  When it was time for me to marry, he completely accepted my husband as his son and became the father-in-law any man would dream of.   His love for my mother and commitment to his marriage is a beautiful example for my husband and me.  As a grandfather, he is jaja to my son.  Recreating the laughter of my childhood for my son and his cousins.

On this day, he doesn't have the energy he had when he was my age and unfortunately I found out he is not an all knowing god.  But he is perfect to me and I love him very much.  I look forward to spending many more years with him.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Is this a Sign

I am not sure if I believe in signs or random events that are sent from some higher power to motivate you to some course of action.  But sometimes it seems like nature is trying to tell me something.

As I was stuck at a light on Elmwood near the Art Gallery, I saw something in the opposite lane outside my window.  On focusing, I noticed a small sparrow in the middle of the road.  It's mouth was open and it looked as if it could not move.  His little leg seemed wrong. As I am trying to figure it out, a bus came and ran directly over it.  Shocked, it was not touched by a tire.  Until of course a pick up came and completely smashed the bird.  At that point the light had turned and I was being ever so gently encouraged to move by a symphony of car horns.

I am not an animal person, but this was horrific.  How was I in just the right place and time to experience it?  Shouldn't I have done something?  If I threw the car in park and walked into opposing traffic to pick up a bird, would I have caused an even worse accident?  How would I have picked it up and what would I have done to help it?  Maybe I should just let Darwin's laws operate as they will.

Somehow I think this is a sign, but I am not sure the meaning.  It could be nature telling me to act - to do something - or be killed.  Hmmm ...  or maybe it's just a sign like the bumps and scratches on my car telling me to pay attention to traffic while I am driving, instead of contemplating nature.

Not Just Cool, Spectacular

My son thinks I am "uncool".  He thinks my husband is "cool" but I am apparently the old mom who just doesn't get it.  It shouldn't bother me at all except that I have been forgetting what I used to be like.  With an upcoming birthday and a complete confusion on the future, I have been feeling old and uncool.  Until this weekend.

We had a visit from a friend we have not seen in about 14 years.  Back when my husband was a resident in Detroit, our closest friends were T and D.  We dealt with the the trials of the hospital, the ugliness of Detroit, as well as laughed at the characters, enjoyed the concerts and even vacationed in San Francisco together.  After 5 years we all went our separate ways and unfortunately just didn't keep in touch.

It was terrific seeing T.  We spent the entire day, night and early morning drinking, laughing, reminiscing.  He helped me remember that I used to be full of energy, busy, fun.  At one point he told our son that we were totally cool, back then and now (ah that was without a prompt).  My son rebuked.  But no T. persisted.  Not only is your mom cool, she is spectacular.  Did you hear that blog-o-sphere?  I am SPECTACULAR.

Most likely that comment did not change my son's way of thinking, and T. did have several cocktails by then,  but it renewed and revitalized me.   Why can't I be just as entertaining and energetic and interesting as I was?  Why not refrain from the nervousness, the fear and the complaining?  It's a new day and I am feeling good.

I miss our old friends and look forward to seeing them again soon.

Salvage Mission

Early in the spring I decided to get prescription sunglasses.  My eyes are certainly not what they used to be and the ability to actually see while wearing sunglasses was thrilling.  Found great Ray Ban frames, waited 2 weeks and have been wearing them ever since.

This weekend we were on the boat and as I leaned over to tie the rope while we were docking, I knocked the sunglasses off my face.  I dove to get them, which left  the boat sailing directly into the dock.  I could not get them in time and down they sank.  We spent the next 45 minutes trying poking the water, staring into the darkness and getting depressed.  Even had the help of a neighboring boater and his net.  But the water was not cooperative.  Maybe it would be clearer in the morning.

So the next morning at 6:30 am we drive out to the dock to start our salvage mission.  Not sure if I should say "our mission" as it was just him.  I was disheartened when we get to the boat and see that the water is not much clearer.  It is about 4 feet high, with 3 1/2 foot seaweed and a hideous oil smell. I am already afraid that he will catch something simply by entering the water.

But my wonderful husband suits up in his scuba suit, shoes, gloves, mask and snorkel and enters the water.  As his feet hit the sinking ground, he is obviously grossed out.  But he persists.  Diving down and pulling up zebra muscles and rocks.  It seems hopeless as he circles the dock posts.  He vows one more underwater try.  Low and behold he returns with my sunglasses!  They were under the muck and absolutely filthy.

The resolute determination, the persistence and the non-stop effort by my hubby made it happen.  Sounds like a little thing to be so excited about.  They are just sunglasses after all.  But its more.  It's his effort and our little adventure to salvage the Grand Island seas.

Next day , he bought me croakies to prevent future slippage.

4th of July Bunting

I am not a big fan of holiday decorations.  Excluding that weekend in November when I deluge my rooms with green and red trinkets, I do not embellish the house to celebrate any other calendar day. It's not that I can't understand the purpose.  When my son was small every real and make believe event was greeted with some obnoxious paper cutout for the window, or figurine for the tables.  Halloween was his favorite which meant spider webs, fake blood, monsters and mind numbing eerie music.

Lately, I am becoming more annoyed by the tacky decorations than ever before.  The big holidays I can almost deal with, mocking the giant snow globes and easter bunnies.  But the others are just too offensive to my sense of sight.  For some reason the Fourth of July decorations annoy me most.  Exactly how does a string of boating flags in stars and strips help you celebrate independence?  What is it about red, white and blue bunting that makes us feel patriotic?

I consider myself somewhat patriotic.  Grateful and happy to be living in the USA although not always thrilled with our political decisions internationally or domestically.  Does that mean that I have to line up miniature flags on my lawn or purchase one of those giant Uncle Sam blow ups?

Instead of the damn bunting, why not show our patriotism by using a little less gas this weekend?  Or maybe by reading a book on an historical event to help understand the toils experienced here.  Consider a visit to a landmark or location that would evoke an appreciation for our land. 

Yes its easier to fire up the grill and bite into some flag inspired dessert. And yes I will probably be doing much of the same.  But can we at least refrain from hanging the hideous bunting?

Spies Among Us

You have seen a ton of movies, sit coms and TV miniseries with the undercover spy plot.  But how often do you see that drama played out in the NY TIMES?  Apparently there is a ring of Russian spies living as parents in New York.

Frankly I am not all that surprised about spies.  Seems a little antiquated but I am sure this type of thing  happens between governments.  What shocks me is that these parents have been able to keep up a double life, secret from there children, for more than a decade.  Hiding birthday presents i can handle.  I can even manage the afternoon nap for mommy and daddy.  But that's as undercover as it gets.

How do you manage the schedule? I would assume spies have to monitor suspect activities and write status reports on a regular basis.  When does that happen?  Unless these "parents" have some specialized technology to add hours to the days, I do not see it possible.

With all the "hats' we were, spy would throw me over the edge.  You have to be the disciplinarian mom, the martha stewart baking mom, the encouraging mom, the cool mom, the adoring mom, the worried about college mom, the don't drink mom...the list goes on and on.  How do you manage the secret agent mom?

Instead of putting these parents in prison, I say we expose them to intense interviews with PhD's and self help authors.  Maybe we can learn something, creating the New Dr. Spock book.

Reading the Classics

I have always been a fairly avid reader and take my choice of books somewhat seriously.  The need to finish any book I start is obsessive and I have been working through a kind of 12 step program to eliminate this obsession.  It's not working very well, so it's kind of important that I choose good books.  Otherwise they pile up on my night stand half read, waiting to be finished or tossed.

Recently, I have had the desire to read classics I missed in my high school and college years. I have no interest in rereading books, although I am sure I would have a very different perspective than I did when I read say "The Fountainhead".  I picked up "Sea Wolf" by Jack London.  Truth be told, my son is reading it and liking it so I thought I would give it a try.

How did I miss this book?  It is fantastic.  The pace, the vocabulary, and especially the dialogue is compelling and probably why it is a classic. I would never have picked it by reading the back cover or knowing the author.  Seems the interaction between a sea captain and his rescued gentleman, would not interest me.  I was wrong.  Not only is this book a thought provoking mechanism, it is leading me to pick up philosophy reviews.

I think all book genres have their purposes; to entertain, educate, or enlighten.  I enjoy the mind candy once in a awhile but completely understand why we all, including our kids, should also be reading certain books.  They can change your thought process and lead you to search out new ideas.  Frankly to allow you to just think.  It's a shame this realization is just hitting me midlife.   

 

Blooming

Just took a quick walk through my garden.  Not bad, eh?

First pink flower on the lily pads in the Koi Pond (by the way all four fish survived the winter)

Geraniums and ferns in the window boxes

    Deep red day lilies in the front yard

                                                  Pink Calla lilies in the front yard

Passion flowers growing up the hot tub

He's NOT coming home today

Woke up to check if my baby's flight from Barcelona was on time.  Three hour delay, will never make connection to Buffalo.

Text him - R u planning on coming home? He calls.  Will be staying overnight at JFK hotel.  Great, want me to hop on a flight and we can hang out in NYC until your morning flight? Resounding NO.  He is fine with friends will see me in the morning.

Thinking of flying out anyway.

He's Coming Home Today

Tonight my baby returns from Spain.  I cannot wait to see him as he has been gone for months (ok 10 days but it feels like 10 months). It's going to be a great Wednesday!

I kept a list of all the things I wanted to remember to tell him, like how dad tried to pick up a pizza from a location other than where he ordered it... how I finally found the shirt he has been looking for... how the neighbor ticked me off regarding his weeds... the status of the BP clean up... the article on college requirements...how the dog kept his smelly lacrosse socks under the table and would bite me every time I attempted a take over... how his nieces couldn't understand why he wasn't at the party ("he could just go back to Spain after he plays with us").  I don't want him to miss anything we did, or saw or heard when he was gone.

I envision him running from the gate and hugging me with yells of "I really missed you".  We'll  talk non-stop on the way home.  I'll make one of his favorite meals and he will eat like he's never had food.  He'll love the new room improvements.  We'll stay up all night looking at photos and hearing about his adventures.

What will really happen, is a brief kiss in front of his friends.  A few yes /no answers on the way home, drive thru at Mighty Taco, and off to bed.  I am sure he will be exhausted.

But hope survives because I have him all day Thursday!

Respect your painters

I had another great idea.  While my son is traveling Spain, I will paint his room. This project will create the illusion of being with him, while finally tackling a very necessary home improvement.  The voice of reason (my husband) clearly stated this was a bad idea and that I should "just hire someone".  That sound advice was greeted with "What am I so weak that I can't even pain a room?  Do you think I am too stupid to buy paint?  Is this what a complete waste of space you see me as?"  Maybe a bit of an overreaction but he acquiesced with "do as you like".

My son's room is huge with 9 1/2 foot ceilings, 2 inch ceiling molding, about 18 in ornate baseboard, cracked walls, marble fireplace and hardwoods that are older that the trees on our street. Maybe a little daunting, but seriously how hard can it be to paint a room?  Didn't we used to do this with our fingers in preschool?

I've never liked the prep part of things.  For me, its jump in with both feet.  Not a really good plan when painting.  So I ignored the entire room of partially used painting supplies we have in the basement and instead took my American Express card to Home Depo.  Four gallons of paint, paint brushes, scraper, tarp, rags, tape, and some trim paint samples were loaded into the car and I was prepared.  That's what I like to call the good ole days pre implementation.

Fast forward 5 days later.  I have spent at least 40 hours on this project.  The room looks worse than it did when I started and my son returns in two days.   He will be "thrilled" to see the updates.  His waterbed is torn apart and empty.  His baseboards are splatter with "french grey" and his floors are now streaked.  Did you know that if you paint over a wall with a crack in it, it only gets worse?  I do now.  Additionally, his room is cluttered with paint cans, tarp, paint brushes and the like.  Did I mention I do not have the energy to put up all the posters, boards and junk he likes on his wall?

Time to recoup.  Running to purchase new curtains, quilts, sheets, posters and furniture to hide the hideous walls.  Maybe a giant silk tree to hide the corner fiasco.  Oh and a very big rug or not.  No time to hire a painter - will have to schedule one for when he goes to camp in August.  

Next, how to handle the voice of reason and "I told you so".