"Busy poopin'"

Unless I'm really naive, I think I was accused of being a med-seeker today.

I'm done with the medical posts as I typically find these really boring to read, so after today, I'm done posting about my health--unless I die or something. My CT scan came back normal, so the surgeon can't figure out what is wrong with me. He'll dance with the official diagnosis of Levator Ani, but he can't quite write the name on my dance card for some reason.

"Well......there is some enlargement of your liver ducts.............but............I don't think that has anything to do with your sore bottom." Yes......and???

"So, we can send you to the gastroentinologist (?) and he can put you out and put a camera down your throat to check that out. Or we can schedule an MRI....."

WHOA, Nelly! Really??? We are just gonna keep runnin' tests until the cows come home?? Yeah...NO.

And I told him so. Sorta like that too--'cuz that's how I am.

"Well, somebody's gotta keep the medical field afloat, " he says half jokingly--but see, I don't find him funny. And then the conversation sorta went south from there. I told him that he can leave all that test stuff for the old people who go out for their morning donut, get a billion tests done on them for fun, eat dinner at 3:00 p.m., and then rush home to go to bed.

I don't think he liked that.

So, pretty much he told me that he wouldn't give me any more pain pills (I got a whopping 24!) that aren't even strong like Valium or Percoset or anything, that I should just try Metamucil for 2 weeks and then come see him again.

Metamucil? For a spasmodic pelvic muscle??? Really??? That sounds like something my old Polish Grandma would suggest--nothing like a good bowel movement to solve your health problems.

"Fiber," he says. Fiber is what I need?? Really??! Because everything I read about Levator Ani had to do with massage, a tens unit, muscle relaxants and/or hot baths--I don't remember crappin' to be the answer. Criminy, if it was, I could have saved myself hundreds on all these ridiculous tests AND had my whole freaking body healed from that solution you drink before the colonoscopy!! Crappin' wasn't the answer that day.

I think it is time for me and Dr. I'm-always-in-a-freakin'-hurry-and-I-can't-answer-your-questions to part our ways. I thought about calling him and telling him so, but I figured that would just confirm in his mind that I really was out there to score more of that Tramadol he parceled out to me.

"Pain meds aren't the solution," he says on his way out the door.

"So what is the answer?" I ask him sort of sarcastically.

"Metamucil and hot baths" is his answer.

Lounging in a hot bath and crappin' the day away--yeah, 'cuz that's what I can do while I'm at work during the week to cope. It's gonna be hard to explain to my boss that I need a hot bath halfway through the day to continue doing my work.

I'm going to see my gyne on Monday. Somehow I think I'll get more out of talking to her for 15 minutes than I have with this idiot for the past month and a half. And somehow, I think the 'scipt for bubble baths and poopin' is gonna make her laugh.

If I wasn't so frustrated, I'd be laughin' too.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

Looking for Stripey Goodness?? You can find him here--out in the yard watching the birdies, talking to the woodpecker, sniffing around the pond.

This is Hobbes' favorite time of year--warm time, anytime the kitty door is accessible and free to swing his orangey bod out into the yard at his whim.

"Doesn't he run away?" they ask. Nope. He knows where he's got it good.

And if you step out the door to look for him--he plops down on his side and rolls on the ground to entice you onto the thick green lawn for a little kitty time. Dare you ask "Where's the kitty?" and you'll hear his little "mew" from behind a grass or around the corner.

He's never far--but he is always in heaven out in the yard. I like this time of year too.

Guest post by my mom

It was a chilly fall day
when the farmer spied the little sparrow lying on its back in the middle of his field.

The farmer stopped his plowing,
looked down at the frail, feathered creature and inquired,
"Why are you lying upside down like that?"

"I heard the sky is going to fall today," replied the bird.

The old farmer chuckled.
"And I suppose your spindly little legs can hold up the sky?"

"One does what one can," replied the plucky sparrow.

My mom sent me this after I stood before the school board standing up for what I believe in. I like the message.

May you all be plucky sparrows at least once in your lives.

Texture Success!

Dear Ann,

Thank you for the push and the inspiration to actually play around with my PSE yesterday! Yes, I was cursing your name while I tried to figure out how to create new layers and merge them, but in the end, I thank you. I have a long way to go, but that 2 inch book of directions doesn't intimidate me so much today thanks to you.

Learning something new is a good thing and I'm feeling kinda smug (and a little bald) after tearing my hair out on trying to figure out the darned thing. Please do not give me any more great ideas.

Thank you,

Lin

The Princess and the Pea

It's the result of a really poor economy, all this hushed tones and asking about one's job at social events nowadays. Seems like no matter where we go or who we run into, there is a story of another job lost or one not found yet, in a long (too long) time.

It used to be that we would see old friends and ask "How are the kids?" or "How is your wife/husband?" and instead, now we are asking "How is your job?". There are quiet discussions by the snack bar, whispers of imminent difficulties ahead, hoping the kids don't overhear. It's scary times for everyone, but still we whisper, afraid to say out loud that our financial fears might come true.

I watch our friends, one by one, talking of possible layoffs or firings. There is business lost or worse yet, closings of a job that has been there for years. Day after day, friend after friend, I hear more and more sad news. And it seems like there is no occupation immune and no end in sight.

We watch our money like we watch our kids--always hoping it is safe. We don't spend an extra dime, but then again, our kids are asking for things and we hate to turn them down. We don't want them to be scared or left wanting and we definitely don't want them to see us fail. So, we splurge here and there on them, hoping they don't notice that we are going without ourselves.

I hope things change soon in our economy. Not a day goes by that I am not thankful for our jobs and I pray it stays that way. Every bit of news affects the businesses we are in, and we watch like hawks to see if it will affect our companies to the point of layoffs. It is scary times, and I don't see the promise of recovery on the horizon just yet.

So, while we pretend we are fine and smile to the outside, the truth is that we are all worried. With every job loss and layoff of our friends, we cross our fingers and hope that the next one isn't us. We nod in sympathy and comfort those who are struggling, knowing how terrified they must be. But all we can do is hug them, cheer them on, and tell them to be strong. Lame encouragement for terrified folks, I'm afraid.

And while we go on with our lives and laugh in spite of tough times, that stinky economy has a way of sneaking in and making its presence known.

Bernice and the Dalai Lama

Ah, Bernice--Loveliness of the backyard. Queen of orange leggings. Rock dove who cracks me up.

She is one of those things that makes my yard unique. While everyone else has chickadees, goldfinches, and cardinals visiting their feeders, I get Bernice. And though I get the little birds as well, Bernice's Hindenburg frame casting a ginormous shadow on the intended feeder is enough to send the bravest birds a-fleeing. And once she's there, there isn't much room for anyone else.

So, while the rest of the world would shoo my turkey-sized visitor, I welcome her with a "Hi, Bernice!" when she comes. It used to scare her and send her flying, but now she is almost used to it and sticks around.

And even though she doesn't fit the standard of what true birders want visiting their feeders, I love Bernice. She adds character and flair to the already wacky atmosphere of our yard.

"When you entertain evil thoughts like hostility and hatred, there is no joy in your heart and you are a nuisance to others. On the other hand, if you develop kindness, patience, and understanding, then the whole atmosphere changes."
---Dalai Lama

Happy Weekend, pallies.

Damn you, Harry Potter!

Levator Ani--it's the new words in my vocabulary. Straight out of Hogwarts, eh?



Although it sounds like something Harry Potter and the gang would say, it's actually just a muscle--a pelvic muscle. One that spasms sometimes. And the doctor thinks that's what I've got going on.

So, while I'm going through some fun tests like a colonoscopy and a CT scan to eliminate any other more serious diagnosis, it's sort of anti-climatic, isn't it? It's a freaking muscle spasm???! Okay, so it hurts, a lot, to sit down after a few hours--especially at work. But can it really be this silly syndrome that makes that pelvic muscle grimace and cause me so much pain?

Sheesh. Why do I get all the weird stuff?

The good news is if that is the "official" diagnosis, it can be eased with some simple things like walking, hot baths, muscle relaxants, etc. and no surgery is required. The bad news is that I don't know how long this will hang on for. And it really hurts when I sit--and I like to sit sometimes. Not sitting is not an option. Most folks have to sit sometimes.

So, while you are enjoying your sofas, Adirondack chairs, bar stools, and recliners, just take a moment and think of me................standing.

Expelliarmus, levator ani syndrome!

I Love Hobbes Thursday

I'm off to have a CAT scan this morning. Nothing serious, just double checking that this whole I-can't-sit thing isn't anything. But in the meantime, this is what I am hoping the CAT scan to be like.

The tech sees you into the room.

They ask your name, birthday, and make you get on the scale.
(They always make you get on the scale--the beasts)
Then they look at you real close-like.

And closer still.

And then you go home and wait a week for the report from the tech.

Well, that's what I imagine a CAT scan to be like anyway. Somehow I don't think there's any fur or orange stripey's involved.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

Is it me or is everyone just crazy busy these days??

Sniff 'em while you can

On the side of my house I have an arbor and 3 trellises that host a viney plant called schisandra. It is a lovely twisty-stemmed vine that blooms the tiniest of flowers that smell just heavenly--problem is that the blossoms last for all of about 4 days out of the whole year.

These next four days are the one and only time that I actually just stand on that side of the house inhaling. The rest of the year it just smells like dog poop because the neighbors don't believe in picking up after their dogs. Sigh.

So, if you are looking for me, you can find me with my nose stuffed into those teeny tiny blossoms--enjoying their teeny tiny gift of the most lovely fragrance. Some things are just so worth the wait.

Dew Drops

I love sedum in the garden.
After a dewy night, morning finds little pearls of water
sitting just so in the folds of the leaves.

I often wonder if tiny creatures
like ants or butterflies know this
and drop by for a drink.

If I were little, I would.
They just look.....
so refreshing and pure.

And I wonder....
how do those drops stay so round and perfect?
And if anyone besides me
notices such things and wonders like I do?

Dragonflies and fools

As spring settles in, so do the pond stories. I love when the yard gets fired up in color and life, as it just makes my daily blogging less of a stretch for something to write about. Each day, something new happens or changes in that back 40 (feet) and if you still yourself, it comes to you like a gift from god.

Here's to waiting for the dragonflies and hummingbirds to return to my yard. Here's to spotting the first butterflies to emerge from wherever butterflies overwinter. Here's to watching the goldfinches return to their lovely yellow color instead of their winter drab. Here's to tadpoles and "eeping" bullfrogs.

And here's to the wacky neighbors, who are emerging from their winter hibernation like grizzly bears out of their caves--only to be more annoying and obnoxious than usual. Sigh.

Yes, the frogs really do sit on the lily pads

I celebrated my second year of blogging this past week and the day came and went without a soul remembering--mainly me. Criminy, I can hardly remember things like my kids' birthdays, how am I supposed to remember my blogoversary? Sheesh.

Oh well, so Happy 2 Years to me and Sherrie over at Boogers, Screams, Headaches, and Dreams who also started blogging on the exact same day!

So, while I was busy having my insides cleaned out this week, Grace asked about the lilies in the pond. And while they are lovely and useful (yes, the frogs really do sit on them), they also bloom--lovely white flowers.

Water lilies are plants that are submerged in a pot at the deepest part of the pond. They stay there year round, but we clip all of the greenery away for the winter. Come spring, they wake up with the longer days of daylight and soon little red shoots come up to reach the water's surface. These "leaves" form the lily pads that the frogs are so fond of. They turn from red to green in a matter of days.

In order to keep the water cool and clear of algae, you must have the water's surface covered about 60-70% by plants. I do this by using the lily pads, 3 other potted water plants, and by floating plants such as water hyacinths. The lily pads are great for this, but they don't like moving water and they won't go anywhere near the waterfall. That's where the other plants are more useful.

My water plants are potted and they just rest on the inside ledge that is built into the pond. They love the warm weather, so it is a hassle come winter to bring them all in to sit in tubs of water in our family room. This is the only water my cats drink all winter long--don't ask me why. They have a perfectly good water bowl in the kitchen, but they would rather drink out of these pots instead. It's funny, but the water always remains clear and clean in these pots--the plants somehow filter out any scum that may form from sitting water. I just add water to replace what the cats drank.

A lot of people ask me if the pond requires a lot of work and I typically say "no" but Joe will correct me. I guess initially it takes a huge learning curve, but once you get the routine down, you don't think about it anymore.

If you are considering a pond in your yard, you'll need a good garden store to refer to and some good pond buddies to discuss the status of your ponds regularly. If my pond is a cesspool for most of the summer, it is consoling to learn that my friend's pond is the same or the dude at the garden store will confirm that everyone is complaining about the same thing. There are fabulous summers of crystal clear water and then there are whole summers where I don't see my fish because the water has gone green.

I do not use chemicals, but I do use barley pellets to fight algae, Microlift bacteria products, and water changes to fight problems I encounter. I will sometimes resort to Algaefix and a lot of scooping if I am having a string algae problem that is gunking up my filter, but that is a rare occurrence and that doesn't harm the fish or frogs.

It's all trial and error, but the rewards are incredible. Everyone, without exception, walks up to the pond first when they come in my yard. It adds life to our garden and you never know what you are going to find in there. I get the opossum drinking out of there in the winter and dragonflies laying their eggs on the rocks. There are frogs coming and going all the time and the fish are now spawning in spite of me telling them not to. It is beautiful to see and relaxing to listen to.

And in case you are wondering--I've only had one cat fall in--Ruth. And she got out really fast.

Pooper Scoop

I sat down to write about my colonoscopy yesterday and then it dawned on me--does anyone really want to read this???

I guess the only reason I write about it is to tell you that it is nowhere as miserable as it sounds. Other than prepping for the occasion, it really isn't a big deal at all. I'm here to tell you not to put it off if your doctor is telling you to get one.

Prepping entails cleaning out your system for a day. Okay, so everything including my ear wax has been flushed out, but that also added up to a little poundage off the scale--so who's complaining?? Besides, I got to actually read those magazines that have been sitting on the coffee table for months.

The actual event is quick, painless (with that "twilight" stuff they give you), and you don't feel a thing afterward. And the best part--they can give you the results immediately.

They didn't find a thing with my colonoscopy other than a few blips of diverticulosis, which is completely normal. I guess this happens as you get older, so I'll deal. So, now I'll have to have a CT scan on why I can't sit down. Yeah, fun. Add another 2 weeks of uncomfortableness to my life.

I guess the point of this post is to encourage everyone to have this done should it be suggested by your doctor. Don't let the mere thought of this procedure scare you out of having such an important test done. I will tell you that I canceled my first appointment with my surgeon out of embarrassment--I didn't want him looking up my bum. And when I finally did go, he was extremely sensitive in preserving my dignity. At no time did I feel uncomfortable both in the office or the hospital, everyone was very professional--even while I was joking.

So, while I chuckle about it, it is a very serious test to have done and it really isn't as bad as it sounds.

Well, unless you have a monkey do it.


(Thanks to Chuck who pointed me to AmyOops who had posted this very timely photo.)

I Love Hobbes Thursday

Okay, so it was funny the first time I looked over and saw this.

Now it is just obscene.

I mean, really--
cats just don't do this.
Normally.

Cesspool-B-Gone

A month ago the pond looked like this:

After a little water change,
some good bacteria,
and turning on the pump,
we've got this:

Cool, eh?

I'm excited to see the first lily pads of the season. They start off as little red leaves, but slowly grow larger and more green. That too, will help keep the water clear as the sunshine is what creates the algae blooms.

Next step, the water plants go in when there is no more danger of frost and the fish go in. And even though the weather has been mild, we typically wait for this until mid-May. In the meantime, I watch the minnows dart around and laugh at the frogs sunning themselves.

Lin--Activist and Human Sewer

Whew! I'm feeling like Em's jeans these days--frazzled and worn thin. I've been missing in action on the blog front and I apologize for that. Life is busy these days, but who's isn't, right??

I was off battling the school board last night, speaking out against the proposal to lower the graduation standards. And in typical fashion, all the parents who said they were coming to speak out against the plan didn't bother to show. And when the big moment came in the agenda to voice your concerns, no hands went up. Well, unless you count mine.

So, there I was, in front of the crowd, giving my name and address to the school board secretary readying myself to give my dissertation on why we need to raise the standards and expectations of kids and not lower them. I must have done well, for I spoke slowly and clearly and made my points and then received a bunch of encouraging thank you's and back-pats afterward. Chickens.

I'm good at that, you know--saying everything I want to say and not regretting a thing. It's my talent.....and my downfall. You don't ever want to be on the bad side of me for that very same reason.
Well, I'm going to catch up on all my blog reading on Wednesday, hopefully. I'm gonna have that ultra-fun colonoscopy on Thursday, so I'll be busy cleaning the pipes on Wednesday. The nurse says me and the potty are gonna be close friends, so I'm taking the day off work to stick close to my white porcelain pally. Sounds like fun, eh??

Sigh. Yeah, so.....who wants to be me?

The boys are back in town

Nothing says spring like your first game of the season.

Okay, so it was still a bit chilly, we bundled up and set off for The Cell yesterday. The only good part of the cool temps is that your beer never gets warm and you don't have to spend a fortune on a bunch of those $7 bad boys.

Coming in to the concourse is like coming home, I tell you. The smell of brats cooking, onions grilling, and cold beers pouring is elixir for those of us sensory-deprived fans after a long winter. Add to that the blinding green grass of the infield and the music rockin' and it's got my heart beating again.

It was good to be back there again, hanging out with the family and the crowd. I love the slow pace and the whole thought of just of passing a few hours relaxing watching a game. I dig the crunching of peanut shells under my feet and the smell of stale beer. I enjoy laughing with Col about rope-flavored-rope and spending too much on White Sox-wear. I like watching the old guys keeping score and the little kids eating cotton candy. There is a reason this game is as old as the hills--you can't beat it on a weekend afternoon in the warm sunshine.

It's official for me now--spring is here.

I don't like you, but I don't like YOU more

Sammy the Wiener Dog came to stay with us this weekend. As routine as that seems, it's apparently a big deal to Hobbes as he spent most of the weekend walking on the counters and "talking" to the dog.

Well, it was more like walking on the counters and taunting the dog.

Sammy's parents are always thanking us profusely for taking him in when they go away, apologizing for him terrorizing the kitties. It's always hard to explain to them that it is actually the contrary--the kitties terrorize and bully that poor dog to death. I'm forever saying "be nice to Sammy" and reassuring the poor dog with a gentle pat on his head. It is just awful how those two gang up on him, hissing and spitting at the poor guy and eating his dog food and daring him to do something about it. I am ashamed to admit that I raised two bullies.

Sammy is going home this morning, relieved to have his dog food and treats to himself and his family back. My two goofs are gonna go back to hissing and spitting at each other and looking for Sammy who left hours ago. In some way, I think they miss him when he leaves.

It's weird, but for one very small moment, Grace and Hobbes actually like each other--well, in comparison to the dog.

But I'll bet she likes linoleum

The other day, I commented to Grace over at Hugz Before you Go that she and I are like Ernie and Bert.

A self-appointed grump, Grace says she doesn't like mushy or inspirational posts. Her comment to my happy snail post was this:

"Ah, all you happy, positive people - so not my nature - finding a snail - regardless of size? would simply elicit a huge "ewww" from me. Small thing that would make me blissfully happy? One way ticket outta here..."It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...." La La La"

Okay, so that is very Bert-like, don't you think?? And after I laughed at her comment, I realized that while she is like Bert, I'm kinda like Ernie, cracking myself up most of the time. And her "La La La" at the end of her comment just reminded me of this:




C'mon, Grace. Won't you la, la, la, la, la with me?

Shhhhh, I'm Cheering for Badminton

I love that my kids haven't followed in my footsteps and joined the things I did back in the day. Nope--no swimmers, pom pom girls, or theater geeks in this house. They instead joined things I wasn't familiar with, like band, badminton, tennis, and show choir combo. And rather than being sad about that, I'm really enjoying it because I'm learning a lot about sports and activities that I didn't know anything about.

And do you know what I learned about badminton? It is a very quiet sport.

There are no buzzers, scoreboards, whistles, referees, umpires, coaches shouting plays, or cheering crowds in badminton. There aren't hoards of fans packing the gym and there isn't a band playing at a non-existent half-time. There aren't folks clapping or cheering and there aren't balls bouncing off the ground making bouncy noises. Nope. No sound whatsoever. It is even quieter than golf because after a good shot in that sport, the crowd is actually allowed to cheer. Not in badminton.

It is hilarious to go to a meet at another school and try to find the event. Sure, you sort of aim for the big tall building that looks like the gym, but there is no crowd to follow to find it. And once inside, there isn't any sign whatsoever that there are literally 12 very exciting games of badminton being played simultaneously in the gym. I'm almost whispering when I walk into the stands to watch....quietly.

Now, if you know me, you know that being quiet for too long is just out of character. So, when I watch Em's matches, I have to be sure that I don't make my "ooohs" or "awwws" too loud. Even my gasps have to be toned down or I get the evil eye--from Em. It just isn't protocol to exhibit much more than a wee "Yes!" when the opponent whiffs the birdie.

So, while this sport is all new to me, I'm an avid follower. I go to the matches and support the team, albeit silently. I smile to Em on the outside, while I'm hootin' and hollerin' on the inside. I think sometimes I even start a mental wave in not-so-crowded stands. I like this sport, I just don't like that I have to be so darned non-emotional and quiet.

And my favorite player? This one.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

Sunday was not only Easter,
it was also a perfect day for....

A Ribbon Dancer Smack-down.

Which is big fun if you are orange and stripey.

He wrestled that rainbowy piece of ribbon
into submission.
The world is once again safe.

Life......in miniature

I'm not sure why,
but I just have this knack for finding joy in the tiniest of things.

I spotted this snail on a piece of mulch in the yard
while I was chatting on the phone--and he made me smile.

So, while Snail Friend is the diameter of a #2 pencil eraser,
he brought me a mountain of joy
watching him swirl those wacky antennas of his.

Life is good, you know?
And it doesn't take the big stuff to make it so.

Spring, Baseball, and Peeps

Grace over at Hugz Before you Go reminded me of this:

It's my entry for the annual Peep contest that the Chicago Tribune holds each Easter. This lovely creation representing too much time on my hands was my entry 2 years ago. No, I didn't win, but it should have--well, me and my mother think so anyway. (That's what I love about mom's--they always think you should win.)

Here is a close-up of my "Field of Peeps" entry:

And what better an entry than the combination of White Sox baseball AND peeps?? Criminy, I'm thinking that contest was rigged.

Sigh.

Hey, Opening Day for baseball was yesterday and who can beat that?? Ah, nothing like spring and baseball. Add to that they won 7 - 0 with a fab play by Mark Buerhle. Go here to see a funky play that scored #1 on all of the highlights last night--perhaps all season. It's worth the go see, even if you aren't into baseball.

On another note--go see my pally, Merry, and send her good wishes on her battle with breast cancer, okay? She's scared and rightly so. She is a wife, mom, blogger, and true pally. Merry is forever sending us packages from Louisiana, corrupting us in the ways of beignets and Cajun spiced foods. She was sending me good wishes on my hiney the other day, all the while I had no idea what she was dealing with. But that is just how she is.

Go send her some blog pally love, okay??

Our new son, Sean

We went on a campus tour on Friday which was informative and well, uh, weird. In typical Kautz fashion, we spent the day cracking ourselves up.

It was a semi-private tour that included a tour guide, the four of us, and our new son, Sean. Sean was an ultra-hip prospective transfer student who could have belonged to our family except for one feature--he was just too cool for everything. And we are anything but cool.

We met Sean in the admissions office, where he sat in his Myrtle Beach coral-colored shirt and had his snappy white hat on backwards. He had some nice jeans on and flip-flops to top off the ensemble. Pretty much he looked like this:

Yep, he looked like Spencer Pratt, complete with flesh-colored beard. Em thought he was cute, but she's 15 and easily impressed.

(If you don't know Spencer Pratt, don't worry about it. He's one of these faux celebs that is somewhat famous for absolutely no reason other than he was on a lame semi-reality series on MTV. You aren't missing a thing if you don't know Spencer Pratt, believe me.)

While we are zipping around campus in a limo-version of a golf cart, Joe and I were asking question after question about dorm life, cafeterias, local transportation, laundry facilities, etc. and Sean was just sort of tagging along. He and Colin weren't asking many questions, they were sort of just listening to Joe and I ramble about how college was back in "our day" and rolling their eyes. But as silly as we were, we were trying to figure out what was good or bad about this campus so Col could make some decisions on whether or not he really wanted to go there.

We were touring the public affairs building and asking one of our billion questions, when Sean finally gets brave enough to speak.

"Uh, I don't mean to get off subject, but, uh, is there a casino nearby?" To which we all just stood there looking at him like "Did he really just ask that?". Even Em thought he was an idiot at that point.

"I, uh, well, uh, I don't think so. " the tour guide replies. Joe jumps in to save her and tells Sean/Spencer that the nearest one is the Quad cities or Chicago--hours away.

We held off the giggles until we got in the car much later--then we lost it. I made the connection with Sean and Spencer, Em was cracking up about his South Carolina gangsta hat on backwards, and Joe was still cracking up over the casino question. Col reminded us all of Sean coming to the conclusion that he didn't think he could live with anyone else because if they ate his food, he'd "punch them in the face". We must have laughed for miles on that dude.

It was a funny realization that one of us in that group just didn't belong on a college campus and for once........we weren't the dorks.

Yeah, lamb cake!

I like this time of year with it's message of re-birth and the promise of opportunity. Well, that and lamb cake.

We are laying low this Easter, staying home to just breathe today. With the craziness of our weekday lives, we decided to just hang out with the four of us, leaving the running for another day. It's a sort of re-grouping, resting before the madness winds up again. It's a good thing to do every once in awhile.

So, here's wishing you a very Happy Easter. May you find time to relax a bit, breathe deep, think about the flowers of your life, and perhaps snag the lamb cake ears. I don't know a family that doesn't fight over those.

(Lamb cake--for those who are confused)

Looking for Abe

The other thing I learned about blogging is that you can't really announce to the world when you are going on a road trip. Well, I guess you can, but you may find your house empty when you get home and a certain Orange Stripey missing with a ransom note left in his place.

I wasn't taking any chances on Hobbes life, so I didn't write about our college visit yesterday.

We are within weeks of Col making his final decision on which college he wants to go to . I suppose we could wait until June or something, but May 1st is the deadline for getting all those housing deposits back in full, and I'm not taking any chances on getting some cash back. So, we went to see his first choice again--University of Illinois-Springfield.

It was nice for me and Em to tour the campus that Col is so fond of. It was exciting and scary both, to imagine Col living there in the dorms, attending college classes, and having a life away from the perimeters of home. We met with a tour guide, school rep, and even a financial aid adviser (gasp!) to bring the reality of college home. Yikes, it's hard to believe he'll be leaving--with my money.

So, while we spent the better part of the day driving (I was laying down in the back, in case you were wondering how my butt is), we still had a lot of time to tour the campus AND sight-see a bit in Springfield, IL--Home of Abraham Lincoln. It was a Fun Family Adventure from beginning to end, with lots of laughs and a bit of grumpiness tossed in. You can't travel with teens and not expect someone to get sick of the P's (parents) at some point.

I purposely didn't bring the camera because I didn't want to embarrass Col on campus, but dang, I wish I had that bad boy for recording some of the highlights of the day. There was Sean, our adopted son (the lone other person on our tour), Joe trying on UIS-wear in the middle of the bookstore, and Em wondering aloud why there was "all this Lincoln-stuff everywhere" in Springfield. Yeah....no.

I leave you with the sole photo of the day--me hanging on Lincoln's steps. They wouldn't let me in, apparently nobody was home. Me and Lincoln shared that in common yesterday--we both had our curtains closed.

Forget Me Nots

I've learned this week that blogging entails a lot of sitting. Maybe too much, according to a certain bum, so I've been taking some time away from the computer this week. As much as I miss blog-hopping and commenting, I've got to chill a bit. And if that doesn't work, I've got to reschedule with the surgeon. Ugh.

I'm not sure what the weather is like where you are at, but here it is unseasonably warm (82 degrees) and absolutely lovely. The trees and bushes are budding and the perennials are shooting up in the garden. Okay, so the pond is still a cess pool--I'm thinking a little water change this weekend might help it--or not. It may just be one of those summers where we don't see much of the fish--who knows?

I'm taking a day or two to regroup, hang out with the kids, and to rest my weary bum. I'm gonna go lay out in the grass and let the sunshine warm my winter white skin. I'm thinking of hanging out behind the privacy of the fence, soaking up the fresh air and cool grass. The red-wing blackbirds are calling--beckoning me to walk away from routine for a minute. "Okay, " I tell them, "but only for a day."

I noticed the brunella plant was coming up yesterday. Okay, so they are faux forget-me-nots--I still love those teeny tiny blue flowers no matter what they are called. I still call them forget-me-nots.

I Love Hobbes Thursday: Good Will????

For some reason, I'm thinking I'm gonna get
this bag back.

Hobbes has been in his glory with extra warm weather here (80 degrees!). Yep, he is climbing over the fence to go visit the neighbors. Yes, he's spending every possible moment outside, coming in with his fur smelling of fresh air. And nope--he doesn't want to come in when he is called. Arrrgggh.

Here's a little Holy Week chuckle (but not in sacrilegious way), LJ posted this bad boy : Jesus is your FB friend.