A Fish Called Mr. Cuddles

I can't move today.  Every bone, every muscle, every thought in my brain hurts--because of the fence. We spent Memorial Day rolling and brushing that thing into redwood beauty. Both sides (thanks to the cooperation of the new neighbors) are finally stained and prepped for another 5 years. Whew!

It wasn't the actual fence that makes the job so darn difficult--it is the utility poles at either end of the yard, the grounding wires for the utility poles, the plants, the intense heat and sun, 2 cats who insisted on being underfoot, the friends stopping by for a visit, and my sprained foot that all seemed to work against us.  But in the end, the four of us conquered the beast.  Thank goodness we only have to do this every few years--my body can't take the beating.

Oh--pond news:  We are now the new family of Mr. Cuddles, the goldfish.  Remember me vowing to not have fish anymore? Yeah, well....that sort of went out the window with a few too many cocktails on Saturday night when we adopted Mr. Cuddles.  I still don't know why our friends didn't want their fish, but apparently they saw "sucker" (or "drunk") on my forehead and sent him my way. Sigh. And no, I didn't name him--he came with that moniker.

Damn, we're back to having a fish again.

So, the backyard was spiffed up this past weekend--both by a newly stained fence and a fish called Mr. Cuddles.  I am one lucky gal.

No Negative Waves!

I welcome this Memorial Day like I do all the others--with quotes from Kelly's Heroes, my all-time favorite war movie. If you are wondering, yes, it is on today--you can find it on TCM. I highly recommend watching it.



And while I will be wishing I was on my couch quoting Donald Sutherland, I will be instead on enemy territory, staining the fence. For some reason, the neighbors on the back side always seem to have issues with us staining the fence--you'd think they would want the cedar fence to look nice. Go figure. Wish me luck, as these are new neighbors and have given us the official okey-dokey to step on their property to do this. We'll see....

Enough with the negative waves! I'm off with brush in hand......


Oh...Happy Memorial Day, pallies. May you all take a minute or two to reflect on those who gave their lives for our freedoms.

The Demise of "Inaccessability"

The frog has nothing to do with the story--I just thought he was lovely.

I have this love/hate thing with texting.  I love that it is super easy to communicate with the kids relatively quickly and easily, and that they actually respond to it--which is the beauty part. I don't like how our lives are suddenly at the beck and call of whoever is texting us at the moment, expecting a response asap.  It's the instant messaging of inane thoughts and everything and nothing that is on one's mind needs to be sent to someone....including me. Why, I do not know.

Recently, Joe and I went to the mall so I could find some clothes. There I was, in a changing room, wrestling my pale lumpy thighs into one pair of shorts after another when I hear my phone beckoning.  Of course, any distraction from this hell is good, so I dig out my purse from under a pile of discarded clothes and tap away to reveal whatever is so important.

"We r bored. Got suggestions"  It's Em who is hanging with her friends.  Apparently they are done doing whatever they were doing and are bored--so they text me so that I can figure out their entertainment dilemma. Really? I'm 1-800-FUN now?

"Im trying on clothes. I don't no"  is my response, which is probably too long for a text, but I'm old school and I add things like punctuation and capital letters and such.  I'm not up on the "lingo" or anything. Whatever.

Then I get this from Joe:


"Some woman just prayed for me"  Joe is weary of shopping with me and he is waiting down by the fountain while I wrestle fabric in yet another store changing room. 

"Well, she should be praying for ME" I answer.

":)"   That's Joe's reply.  He's not very good at texting so he does a lot of smiley faces and "K" as his replies.  That's pretty sad being that he's got a phone with that qwerty keyboard feature which makes the actual spelling of words pretty easy.  Typical Joe, he's a man of few words.

So, I finish and pay for 2 pairs of overpriced-but-they-somewhat-fit shorts and head out to the fountain to find my newly blessed husband.

He was so excited. "Some woman with a baby in a stroller came up to me and started talking," he says.  "She asked me if she could pray for me and I thought, 'Sure, why not', and she did." And he starts laughing. "So, I've got that going for me...."

"Yeah, that's nice,  Joe. Do you think you looked like you needed a prayer?" I'm asking him.

"The funny thing is, that with sitting right next to the fountain, I had NO idea what she was saying.  She started talking and then she stopped and I just said 'thank you' and she walked away with her kid." So, he's not sure he was really blessed actually.

Then my phone starts buzzing again--this time it is Col.  "Where u at" it says, followed by another text from Em--"Still bored".  Ugh. 

How did we ever live without this before?

More Good-byes

I went to graduation last night even though I didn't have a graduate in the crowd. I went to help with the band and to cheer on those families who I have grown to love over the past few years.  It's a bittersweet thing, this graduation stuff, as I understand the permanence of it now.

I didn't cry last year at Colin's graduation because it was just nice and I just sat back and enjoyed the occasion--the choir, the band, the speeches, the hugs. But this year, it was different--I understood what it meant for these kids to graduate, and in essence, leave us all behind.  I didn't realize the permanence until that first band performance at a football game.  There was the trumpet section....without Colin.  It's then that I cried. Graduation had nothing on that first football game without my kid there.

Last night I sat with my band buddy, Sue, who was eye-dripping as much as I was.  It was Mr. P, standing at the foot of the stage, hugging each band kid as they graduated that did me in.  Typically not an emotional man, Mr. P giving those kids a sincere hug and a congratulations kills me for some reason. It is four years of spending so much time together that comes to a conclusion at that moment--and he says goodbye and congratulations with one long hug. 

And I'm fine through all the speeches, through all the music and caps and gowns and parents snapping pictures--it's just that hug, by Mr. P, that makes me cry.  Even the beastly band kids--the ones who are pains in the behind, that do drugs and steal, and all kinds of horrible stuff--when they hug Mr. P, it's like, "Okay, it's all over" and "Good luck".

Me, I'm not so forgiving.  I think Sue and I actually cheered when one particular idiot walked the stage and flipped his tassle.  But there was Mr. P, handing out warm hugs and congratulations, regardless.

I guess it's a good message--one of good-bye, good luck, and forgiveness.  I guess he's used to it after so many years of teaching. But me, I'm not so good at it and the crumpled Kleenex in my pocket shows my inexperience. 

Apparently Mr. P is wise even beyond my comprehension as I watched those band kids, one by one, return to the band room to say good-bye to the stained carpet and musty smell, trumpet sections and mellophones, color-guard friends and loose-leaf sheets of music--and to Mr. P. As I collected the uniform necklaces, I watched as those graduates and their families return to the place they knew as "home" for so long--the band room. 

How wonderful that it was, that after 4 years, that is where they wanted to be--the band room. The room that  was witness to beginnings, endings, growth, failure, friendship, forgiveness, hellos, goodbyes, and most of all......acceptance.

It's a good way to be--at the beginning, the middle and the end--accepted.  May every one of those graduated have that at least once in their lives.

I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday - PSHobbes

Ann and Duke inspired me to play with PhotoShop Elements for a few minutes last night. And like our little pally, Duke--Hobbes is just one of those faces you can't go wrong with. It pays to have a good model.

It's been raining for a few days now and poor Hobbes is stuck in the house.  Sometimes he throws a fit and I let him out on the front porch just to be outside without getting too wet.   But like half of the country, we are under tornado threats lately, so no outside for kitties.  Until the threat of evil vortexes dissipates, I've got myself two major grumps staring out the window.  Ugh.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday--Snappy New Hat!

Look what Merry made me!!! Isn't it just the snappiest hat that you have ever seen?! I'm gonna be the envy of everyone during marching season--including the adults.

And not only did she make this hat for me, but she also sent me some snappy new mitts to go along with it. Thank you, Merry. See--I told you I was wearing it already!

Merry ROCKS!

Perfectly Good Parts

One of the many subjects that Jim and I used to touch on in our "morning meeting" was the subject of getting old.  He and I would sit and laugh about things that go wrong with you as you age.  Oh, we would cover the typical eyes going bad, the need for medications, and how your teeth just sort of break off in your mouth.  But then there is the other fun stuff like aches and pains and mysterious ailments that give no warning.

"Perfectly good parts that worked yesterday, just don't work today," I'd tell him. And he would laugh, knowingly, while Irene just looked at us confused.  She's young, you see, and she hasn't woken up stiff--from sleeping.   Yeah, getting old isn't easy on the ol' bod. 

This week, the top of my right food is swollen and painful--why? Who the hell knows?  Joe ran through the litany of questions like a doctor would do: Did you drop something on it? Did you twist it? Did you step on something? Is that a bee sting?  Asking a cabillion questions like he knows what is wrong with it. You know, like I'm stupid and I can't remember doing some serious damage to my foot that would cause it to swell up and hurt like the dickens.  But I can't, for the life of me.  My foot was fine on Friday--and Saturday it hurt. Plain and simple.

So, I hobble around and hope it doesn't get worse and fall off or something, while doing my usual chores like mowing the lawn, watering the gardens and bringing in the garbage cans.  Sigh. There is no sympathy here for the wounded. But every so often, someone does say something sweet like "Hey, does your foot still hurt?!"-- I'm touched by the warmth of this family.

And then there was Joe, trying to sink a new post for the gate in the yard.  He was whirling and twirling a crowbar, trying to maneuver the post into place when the crowbar flew into the air, did a double-twist back-flip, doopty-doo twirl and landed.....smack on the precise spot on my foot that is all hurty.  And while they were all standing there, speechless and afraid to laugh, I just turned and hobbled into the house.  Didn't say a damn word.

So, I wait--for the moment when my foot goes back to normal (or not) and the next perfectly good body part decides to act up for attention.  And I'm not even that old.

Like you need to know more? Sheesh.

I snagged a meme from chauceriangirl--a new pally. She did this one this past week and I sort of liked it. Copy and paste away if you please--I'll be curious to see your answers.


1. Were you named after anyone?
I think my mom liked a song with my name in it. I dunno. I'm not big on it so I changed the formal "Linda" to "Lin". I dropped the "duh".
2. When was the last time you cried?
I cry a lot because I'm a softy, so crying for me doesn't always have to be a bad thing. I think my last cry was at the band banquet last week. Gonna miss those darn kids.
3. Do you like your handwriting?
Oh yeah. Give me a fine tipped Sharpie and my world is complete. And others ask me to write things for them so I guess they like it too.
4. What is your favorite lunch meat?
Ack. Don't like sammiches or lunchmeat.
5. Do you have kids?
Yep. Two. Three if you count Joe.
6. If you were another person would you be friends with you?
I'm kinda hard to know for the masses. You have to be a tolerant person to be my close friend. But yes, I'd be my friend.
7. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Uh, yeah.
8. Do you still have your tonsils?
Nope. 5th grade and they were goners.
9. Would you bungee jump?
Nope. I'm a big chicken.
10. What is your favorite cereal?
Lucky Charms. They're magically delicious, you know. But oatmeal is my first, albeit healthy, choice for breakfast.
11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Nope.
12. Do you think you are strong?
Physically not so much anymore, which bothers me. I am strong in other ways though.
13. What is your favorite ice cream?
Ack. I don't like ice cream.
14. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Their spirit. I love happy, fun people who will laugh with me.
15. Red or pink?
Pink.
16. What is the least favorite thing about yourself?
My fat thighs and I expect a lot from myself and others.  Too much so sometimes.
17. Who do you miss the most?
Don. A former co-worker of mine--another old guy. He was the best.
18. Do you want everyone to send (link) this back to you?
Nope. If you want to use it, copy away my friend, but no links required.
19. What color pants and shoes are you wearing?
Snappy new capris that took me weeks to find. It's those thighs again. Sigh.
20. What was the last thing you ate?
Pizza and a cold beer. Heaven after a long day in the yard.
21. What are you listening to right now?
Hobbes snoring in his basket.
22. If you where a crayon, what color would you be?
Probably a plum color.
23. Favorite smells?
Gardenias, peonies, cement after the rain, my cat's head and the back porch at the lodge in Cumberland Falls.
24. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Wendy. We talk for hours when we get on the phone.
25. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
I think so. I'm new to her blog, but so far I like her. :)
26. Favorite sports to watch?
Baseball. Chicago White Sox in particular.
27. Hair color?
Brown with highlights. Everyone thinks it's blonde, but it's not. 
28. Eye color?
Blue/green.
29. Do you wear contacts?
Nope.
30. Favorite food?
Breaded pork tenderloins--cold, the next day. Pure heaven.
31. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings. I don't like being scared. Life is scary enough sometimes. 
32. Last movie you watched?
The Phoenix. A cheesy AMC movie that Joe and I actually sat down to watch. We rarely do that.
33. What color shirt are you wearing?
Beige. With my snappy new capris.
34. Summer or winter?
Tough one. Summer for the pond, but I like snow too.
35. Hugs or kisses?
Hugs. But a kiss is nice too. Depends on who's doing the kissing.
36. Favorite dessert?
Not a big dessert fan, folks.
37. What book are you reading now?
"Whatever you do, don't run" . A book written by a Botswana Safari tour guide. 
38. What is on your mouse pad?
Don't have a mouse pad.
39. What did you watch on TV last night?
Went shopping. No TV last night.
40. Favorite sound?
Believe it or not, a quiet house. But then again, I like the sound of my kids coming home. Then I can sleep soundly knowing they are safe.
43. Rolling Stones or Beatles?
Beatles. 
41. What is the farthest you have been from home?
I went to Hawaii twice. That's pretty far from Chicago.
42. Do you have a special talent?
I can square dance. And tap dance. I can also make up words for songs on the fly. It makes my kids laugh.
43. Where were you born?
Oak Lawn, Illinois.
44. What time is it now?
6:01 p.m. on Sunday evening.  I'm settling in for the Apprentice finale.

Rapture--Duck and Wheel Style

"So what exactly is 'rapture'?" Em asks.

And Joe explains between mouthfuls of dinner, "It's the day Jesus comes back to Earth, Em. And the truly good people--those who are going to heaven--get called on that day.  Those who are not chosen are left on Earth."  (I think he even says some of that with food in his mouth--much to my, and his mother's chagrin.

Col chimes in "You know, HELL, Emma." 

"Yep. Hell on Earth.  Which is pretty much what we got going anyway." Joe laughs.

"Well, I guess I'm not going anywhere today" I say.

And we didn't--we all ate our breakfast on the patio by the pond this morning.  We enjoyed the company of the hummingbird and the frogs, and even the fish came up to enjoy the warm sunshine on their backs.  Hobbes lay under the chair in the lawn and chattered at the birdies overhead.  

If this is hell, I'll take it.

SlowFest

Typical of this time of year, I made my pilgrimage to the garden store for flowers the other day. I go early in hopes of dodging the crowds and those pesky shopping cart drivers who block my view of every flower in the place. And then I have plenty of time and space to do my own meandering of those rows and rows of potted happiness.

Sigh. I don't think I'm ever so happy as I am in that darn garden store. Even if that cocky pond dude is working. I stop and say "hello" to him because 1)I like to annoy him with my pond stories and 2)he's the guy I gotta see for water hyacinths, tadpoles, and snails. It's sort of a weird win/lose kinda situation.

After 2 hours in that beastly hot place, I came home with the back of my car full of green while my wallet was a little emptier of the same. But if you count that I don't gamble or smoke, I'm figuring that is a healthy addiction--annuals and perennials.

Along with all those plants that now needed to be dealt with, I snagged me a couple of snails and tadpoles for the pond. And while the tadpoles were really small, those snails made up for it--they are ginormous. But they are hungrier when they are that large, and I've got me an algae issue, so everyone is gonna be happy with this purchase.

If you are wondering what the heck the turtle is looking at in the photo, it is the new snails. Aren't they lovely? They aren't too big on being out of water, so they have their little trapdoors shut. Once they are in the water, they'll sniff out all that yummy algae and come out of hiding.

And yes, that is algae growing on their backs. How ironic is it that they spend their days looking for algae to eat and it is right there on their backs? Every so often I'll find two friends working out a deal to solve that problem--or they were....uh....doing something else. I'm not sure. I prefer to think they are eating algae.

So, it's SlowFest here this weekend. I'm planting a cabillion flowers while the snails are working on the pond algae. And you just know that Hobbes will be supervising all of this from under a hosta leaf.

God is doing a Nu Thang--and it's not picking a winner on Survivor

I have this gripe with folks who think God is taking more interest in things than I think he is.

Take, for example, this past season of Survivor. There was this dude, Matt, who consistently kept saying that God wanted him in the game and he was just playing for him.  When he was low, he said that God told him to keep playing. When he was in better spirits, he said that it was God's will that he was still in the game.

Really?

I dunno. I'm up with Jesus and all that, but somehow I don't think God is all too caught up with Survivor results.  And I'm thinking that IF he has a TV, he certainly doesn't have TiVo, and he's defnitely not messing with the outcome of some ridiculous reality series.  Somehow I think God has bigger things to worry about--like slamming those pearly gates on folks such as Bin Ladin and Hitler.

Anywho, I don't wanna get all theological, so please don't send me hate mail and nasty comments--I was just thinkin', that's all.And I wanted an intro to my latest crack-up on YouTube.

So if you think, like me,  that God has nothing to do with football touchdowns, homeruns, or who wins game shows, you gotta know he has nothing to do with this:




But I am sincerely thanking him for blessing some person on earth with the ability to create Auto Tune.




And you gotta love the comment to this video:  "This is what he sounded like in his head" 

Yeah, no doubt. 

Sorry. Now you are gonna be singing that all weekend.  You can thank me--or God, if you so prefer.

I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday

If you are looking for him.....

he's outside.

He loves outside.

Pterodactyl!

Joe came running into the house yesterday, merely seconds after he left for work.   His eyes, wide as saucers, reminded me of the infamous cement goose find on our porch last fall, but alas, this was even more exciting.

Joe found a blue heron in our pond yesterday morning.  And while you are all excited thinking "Wow, cool"--I am not so excited.  1) Because blue heron eat pond inhabitants and 2) my pond is the size of a spittoon and we don't want him hanging around these parts. I don't really have any fish for him to eat, the minnows dove for cover in their little fish house, but I did have to check the skimmer for the frog.  I was really hoping that dopey bird didn't eat my frog.

Then there is reason #3--thanks to my dear friend, Wendy.  After I told her our finding, she reminded me of that yahoo over at the garden store who said it was a heron that ate my fish last summer. Crap. She would bring that up. Sheesh.

I will go down saying that it was NOT a heron that did my fish in last summer--I think this visit is pure coincidence. AND I'm not giving that dude at the garden store any credence. I'm sticking with the raccoons--they did all sorts of damage that blue heron do not do.

And while Pterry the Pterodactyl took off with his 6 foot wing span when Joe took out the garbage, I did manage to capture his footprints on the flagstone:
 

And because I'm super creative with my Photoshop Elements, I drew them out so you could actually make out the evidence.  Although I'm sure Sharkey would have figured it out without my help--she's good with stuff like that.

To put this in perspective--these footprints were larger than the size of my hand.  It was one freakingly large bird that was wading around my wee pond. 

And in case you were wondering--yes, Hobbes was outside for all of this. But somehow I think he was hiding.  Seriously. He appeared only when Joe and I went back out to check out the footprints.  Apparently he wasn't messin' with that bird.

(Blue heron can reach 4 feet in height and have a wing-span of 6-7 feet wide. You know, Pterodactyl-size.)

Guess Who's Home?

My two favorite guys--Col and Taylor Terry! 

It's hard to believe that they have one year of college under their belts already. Seems like yesterday and forever that we were saying good-bye to them. While it seems fast on one hand, it also seemed like eternity that they were gone. 

Taylor is like one of the family 'round here.  He comes over to help me with Photoshop and makes me laugh by inserting extra heads and wacky eyeballs on people in photos.  He's always game for whatever wackiness is going on at the moment and will come over to hang out, even if his cat allergy makes his nose bleed. You gotta love that.

And the best part?

Well, other than the fact that he reads the Duck and Wheel every day.....

 he loves waders! 

I'm just glad that Colin and Taylor are both home again.  It's been a long school year without them here to make me laugh.

"It's all about companionship"

I was saving this post for Wordless Wednesday, but I wanted to just get it over with.  You see, I'm not "wordless" as much as speechless as my friend and co-worker, Jim, retired last Thursday.

It's was a fun friendship we had, me, Jim, and Irene were all all together in the back room at work, sharing our cubicles and lots of  laughs.  We had a "morning meeting" each day, discussing current events, Jim's tales of his trader days, politics, or whatever else was going on in the world--all before 8:30 a.m.  We'd grab some coffee and chat while we waited for our antiquated computers to fire up for the day. 

Jim was one of the kindest guys I know, helping everyone with everything from the heat/air in the office to getting me a $50 rebate on the new TV we bought.  He drove us nuts with his war stories, trader tales, his disgust with politicians and unions, and his made-up retirement plans that would make me laugh.  Oh, he aimed high with jobs at Costco and as a greeter at Walmart, but his quest for a van by the river was bittersweet. But if he got me laughing, there was no telling where his stories would go--and they went far on some days. There was one particularly hilarious scenario that included looking for Cuban "companionship" in Miami.  (Don't ask)

Irene and I are smiling here in the photo, but I have to tell ya, Jim left behind two very sad cube-mates.

It's that time of year again...

Look what I found outside my side door. Ugh. It's officially Baby Bird Season.

While the rest of the world probably thinks this little nest of skin and scraggly feathers is exciting, I'm holding my breath. Baby Bird Season is nature at its best/worst and after too many years of BBS, I have just come to dread it.  And the whole reason I don't like it?  Because it just gives me a few more beings to worry about.

When you are a cat owner, you notice things like nests and baby birds on your property.  And while my kitties are typically pretty good about not going after the birds, every so often, one of the two of them finds a baby bird who has fallen from his nest.  Sometimes they are alive, but most often, they are not--and I stand there heartbroken. 

My too-close neighbor has these god-awful overgrown junipers on our property line and every year some wacky bird decides this is the place to raise a family.  Ugh.  And right below those icky prickly bushes is some rocks, a bit of cement, and lots of dog poo.  And whoever happens to fall (or get pushed) from that little nest doesn't stand a chance of survival, unfortunately. 

It's when I find Hobbes (or Grace) standing there at the fence, looking and poking through the wires that I know it's happened again.  And sure enough, it is then that I hate Baby Bird Season all over again. 

I try to be excited and positive, really.  I go out and peek at them and ooh and ahhh, and then snap some photos.  But I try not to get emotionally attached because I know they have a long way to go yet.  These little ones still have to leave the nest AND not get eaten by those below--cats and dogs included.  Yes, Hobbes will be banned to the house for a few days while they learn to fly, but I can't speak for the rest of the 'hood. I guess everyone doesn't care so much about baby birds as I do.

And then we have to deal with yappin' mother birds, announcing all over town, LOUDLY, that her baby is in the yard.  Criminy, Colin nearly got his eyeballs pecked out last year with some wacky robin protecting her baby.  Those mom birds are extra annoying. (That's kinda the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?)

So, while I'm all about a nest full of the promise of life and all that, I'm also freaked out about the prospect of keeping these little ones alive. 

And as you can see, I'm not attached to these little ones at all....

Hey, where did everybody go?

Okay, what was the deal with Blogger the past two days?? Criminy. I couldn't access the pallies and their blogs--or my own blog for that matter.  And now, I lost a whole Hobbes post from yesterday. Sheesh! 

Then I can see all those Thursday posts in my blog reader queue, but they are gone--gone like my super stupendous Hobbes post from yesterday. It's gone....all gone. Kinda makes a girl crazy to see all those intriguing lost posts in my reader, but I can't access them. Ugh. And I'm thinking I'm missing some comments too--or is it just me being paranoid?

Okay, but I have to admit to loving the forced time away from the blog a bit. I actually sat down to watch cheesy TV shows last night with absolutely no guilt.  And with my calendar as nutty as it has been lately, I'd like to thank Blogger for giving me a day to just chill.  And for reminding me what crap is on the tube each night.

I Love Hobbes Thursday - Napping

Lately, whenever I look out into the yard, I can find my 47 lbs of Stripey Goodness lounging wherever--by the fence, under the hostas, in the mulch, or by the pond. 

And he's so comfortable out there that he almost looks dead. In fact I think have asked Joe to check him--because he really does look dead.  Cats don't sleep like this normally. But then again, Hobbes isn't a "normal" cat, right?

We should all be living La Vida Hobbes.

I'm-Never-Wordless Wednesday

Maybe this is just taken for granted in those exotic locations like Malaysia and Hawaii that have year-round color, but color here after a long winter is downright intoxicating.  Add in the fragrance that we miss 6 months out of the year and folks here are all walking around sniffing the air like a bunch of hound dogs in heat.

While I would love to have that lilac and cherry blossom fragrance year round, I wonder if you appreciate it like we do this time of year.  I've got a plant on the side of my house that literally only blooms for a week or two, and for those two weeks, I suck in more air  by those plants than I do the whole rest of the year--I just can't help myself. Okay, so the other part of the year it smells like dog crap because my idiot neighbors don't believe in pooper-scooping, but I'm in hog heaven for the smell of those flowers for these two weeks.

All the trees are in bloom now, so mix in the lovely colors with the glorious fragrance and it's like heaven.  My eyes and nose are happy dancing.

And while the trees are showing off, the garden is just beginning.....

Goodbyes and forget-me-nots

Ironically the first flowers to bloom in my yard are the brunnera--or faux forget-me-nots.  Typically one of my favorite flowers, I'm sort of melancholy at the sight of forget-me-nots these days as there are too many goodbyes on the horizon.  And I don't typically like goodbyes--but I don't think anyone does.

While graduation is a happy occasion, I'm awfully sad to see so many great kids graduating and moving on to college this year. I've realized with Colin and his friends that going to college means that I won't be seeing as much of these smiley faces that I have grown to love. And while I'm happy and excited for them to experience college, it just makes me sad that I won't be seeing them as much around home or school anymore.

And along with those kids, I'm gonna miss their parents. Oh, we all say that we'll keep in touch and we'll still see them at band outings, but in reality, it doesn't work that way.  Like their kids, parents move on as well, going to college football games and choosing to stay at home rather than sitting in cold bleachers cheering on the band. I don't blame them, because if I had half of an excuse not to sit on freezing bleachers....

This year is extra sentimental for me as my pally at work, Jim, is retiring this week.  It's me, Jim, and Irene in the back room and we are a tight bunch.  While the rest of the office has their private offices and cliques--I've got Jim and Irene.  We're stuffed in the back of the office, nestled in cubes, and we love every minute of it.  We stick together, us three, having "morning meetings" and and the thought of this breaking up makes me sad.

I'm a little misty-eyed these days as I edge closer to these goodbyes. I don't like those reassuring hugs and words of promises that won't be--although they feel good for the moment.  I don't like the lump in my throat as I see my friends for what may be for the last for a long time.  And I certainly don't like the thought of returning to those places that I typically see them--band, work, etc.--to find their seats empty.  All of that just makes me sad. Very sad.

Damn forget-me-nots. 

I think I'm gonna start liking dandelions.  They just remind me of all the annoying things in life that I'd like to ditch.  Then I won't cry so much when I see them.

And these are just right....

It's fuzzy because I was laughing so hard.  Joe  was trying on shoes, which is a major event...IF you are Joe. May is busy enough, but add in the fact that Joe needs some shoes, and we've got us a major ordeal. 

He is the kind of guy who waits until he's got holes in his shoes before he starts to shop.  And then he has these ridiculous expectations and style requirements before he'll finally settle on something for his feet.  He's so darn persnickety that its a freaking miracle the man isn't walking around in his socks.  Sheesh.  It's like taking Goldilocks to go find shoes--and I said so.


These shoes are too pointy.

These shoes are too square.

These  are too brown.

These are too black.

These shoes are too big.

These shoes are too small.

These shoes are too dressy.

These shoes are too hip.

My patience was done for when he asked if they had saddle shoes.  Yep--saddle shoes.  Homeboy is not a fashion plate, if you haven't already gotten that. And no, we didn't look for saddle shoes--even if they are back on the market, unbelievably.

After a longer than expected shoe shopping outing, we finally settled on a snappy new pair of dress shoes AND some new casual ones as well. Killed two birds with one stone, thank goodness--I am spared shoe shopping with Joe for another few years.

And now, along with his snappy new shoes, Joe is sporting some snappy new blisters on the back of his feet. Apparently Goldilocks thought it was a good idea to walk 8 city blocks in his new shoes. Ugh.

Word to your Mutha'

Nothin' like horrid matching skirts, orange draperies, and some funky floral chairs to honor Mother's Day. Sigh. We were some happenin' chicks, weren't we? 

Here's to you, Mom, and all those other Mom's out there, who are honored on this day. And here's to the toughest job on earth--motherhood.

Neverending Prom Post

Em had prom last night, which meant that my camera is now loaded with about 3000 photos of Emma, Emma's hair, dress, date, friends, more dress, and some of our friends. Bear with me while I post just a wee bit of the pre-prom paparazzi results:

Snappy up-do

Prom Princess Barbie--according to our friend, Steve.  

He said the only thing missing is the box.

Em and Linnea--two southern belles

Wen's dogs, Wrigley and Cole, were banned to the backyard. 

They were not happy.

Paparazzi shot

Emma and Jose

Mary and Mark

Mary has been Mark's sign language interpreter since he was little. Not only is Mark graduating, but Mary is "graduating" as well. I get misty-eyed every time I look at this photo.

Five hot girls.

Morgan, Linnea, Zack, Emma, Jose, Meagan, Mark, Kaitlyn

Aren't they all lovely?  Oh, it was a beautiful night, full of excitement and fun, mixed in with a little melancholy.  Only Emma and Zack are sophomores and not graduating, so it is hard to see these great kids moving on.

Snap Happy......or not

I went out into the yard with my camera the other day--finally. After a long winter, the yard is just starting to come to life and color is returning once again.

This is really my favorite time of year because the plants are still small and green. There are no weeds to pull, no dried up stalks of spent blooms, or dry patches that need to be watered.  It's all just fresh and new and clean. Gees, I wish it would stay that way.

Hobbes walked the garden with me, but bailed the minute the camera turned on him.  And the frog did the same.  Birds--well, they were gone the minute they saw Hobbes. Sigh.  So, any creatures of the yard went completely M.I.A. just when I was ready to shoot.  Now I just have a lot of flower shots--and even they aren't that good.  Thank goodness I have my grumpy frog figure to pose for me. It was either that or Joe.

Today is prom for Em.  We'll be spending the day getting hair and nails done, steaming the dress and anticipating the event.  And after all the money is spent, all the shopping done, and all the errands run, you know darn well those kids are gonna be moaning about all the photos we parents are going to take, right. But this time, I'm not letting them escape.

I'm looking forward to a fun next couple of days as the kids run from prom to parties.  Prom is a 3-day event in these parts and so we are anticipating a long weekend of carting them around, wondering what they are doing, and hoping they are having fun.  I can't wait.

Have a great weekend, pallies!  Happy Mother's Day too! I wish you all peace and a moment to just breathe.

I Love Hobbes Thursday - Laundry Help

What is it about freshly laundered clothes that whispers to the kitties "Come, sit on me"?  Ugh. Nothing like black slacks, fresh from the washer and dryer, with a splash 'o orange stripey on them.

This is the kind of help I get around here.  I'm a lucky gal, eh?

Semi-Wordless Wednesday - Hiding Out

Sometimes in life, camouflage is absolutely necessary. 

And sometimes, it's just sorta fun to blend into the surroundings

and hope nobody notices you.

Don't blink

When you are knee-deep in it, raising your little ones seems to last for.ev.er.  Days are too long, naps are too short, diapers are never-ending, and everyone is exhausted--well, except for the kids.  It's tough work being a mom or a dad and you swear these days will never end.

But, they do.  Those darn kids grow up. And they grow up way too fast. 

Oh, people warn you. They say things like "Enjoy it--it goes too fast" and "I remember when I had little ones" and they get all melancholy and misty-eyed and you just think to yourself "These people are idiots".  Nobody can tell you how much you miss all that work and stinky diapers and whiny kids.  Nope.  It's kinda like childbirth--the years erase the hell of it--and all you remember is the smell of the top of their heads or how they would snuggle up and fall asleep in your arms.

My baby girl is turning 16 today, and while I am totally enjoying these times with her, I am aching for how quickly the day is approaching that she'll be leaving us.  It's good to be Em these days with Sweet Sixteen bashes and Prom topped off by a great new guy in her life.  It's fun to see her growing up, but I wish there was a hold button so that I could catch my breath in between these events.

Oh, I know grandchildren are coming and that's all great with "no responsibility" and all that, but I like being the mom. I'm here for everything--not just happy updates and holidays.  I'm here for the nitty-gritty and the warts along with the rainbows and butterflies and unicorns.  And I like that, so I'm holding onto every last minute of it--with a death grip.

Princesses in the 'hood

Funny how everyone was so blinded by Will and Kate, that only one person commented on my wedding attire all those years ago.  Sheesh.  Who knew that my dress-up clothes, dug out of a smelly hamper in the basement, would someday be exactly like the future Queen of England's? Go figure.

When I was little, I had this hamper full of dress-up clothes--and a friend who loved it as much as I did. And while Kate had Pippa, I had Evie, a neighbor friend.  Evie and I hung out often, digging into that hamper for plastic "glass" slippers, old prom dresses, and a gold plastic wig.  We'd spend hours dolling up for our imaginary husbands-to-be and strutting around the backyard like we were princesses in our own right.

I can remember that while I had the Hamper 'o Fun, Evie had a Barbie collection to die for.  And when we would be discussing what we were gonna do on any particular day, I'd yell "Barbies!" and she'd yell "Dress Up!".  Sigh.  Needless to say, it was a serious case of the grass being greener, and it oftentimes led to all out war.  To which  it ended up with either me or her stomping home and dragging out the possessions in question, flashing and flaunting for the other to see two houses away.  It was ugly--but it worked.  We were both miffed.

This is one of my favorite photos of my childhood because it reminds me of how we used to just play until the streetlights came on.  Life was good then--no cell phones, no child abductors that we knew of, no PlayStations or computers to waste good sunny days on, and plethora of neighbor kids to hang out with.

It was just so different then.  I think we were more easily entertained because we didn't have all of this technology or our parents to figure out what we should do for fun.  We just went outside and did whatever--and we never really got into trouble with all that freedom.  We were creative and happy--or we were bored.

And I'm not sure why, but everyone had an "ie" or a "y" at the end of their names.  I was Linnie, my brother was Stevie.  Petie and Paulie lived next door.  Evie lived 2 houses over--and right in-between was Jeannie.  Richie lived across the street, right by Susie and Johnny.  I think Pammy moved in after they moved.  I can't make this stuff up--these are actual names of the kids on my street.  What is with the inclination to add an "ie" to everyone's name?

When I thought of the Royal Wedding, I thought of this photo immediately.  And I wondered if Evie was watching somewhere remembering our days of being princesses.