Brain Freeze

Maybe it's because it is January. Maybe it's because I've got the blahs.Maybe it's because I sat on the couch last night watching back-to-back episodes of "Hoarders" with the cat on my lap.  I dunno, I just didn't have a thing to write about today.  The cow is dry. 

So, I just post one of my favorite photos of the kitties and write the day off. I'll be back tomorrow.

Well, unless "Billy the Exterminator" is on or something.

"I am not an animal!" --The Elephant Man

I have been avoiding photos of my FrankenToe until now because it is still healing. My doctor says it will take a full 6 months to heal and the swelling to disappear.  Until then, I wear a little compression sock on that toe every single day to keep the swelling down.  And while you may think that it is not very pretty--I'm really glad that it is straight and that surgery was rough on the little guy--and his surrounding friends.

Everyone asks about the GERD now that my toe is straight.  If you remember, my reflux (GERD) was really acting up before I went in for my toe surgery.  My acupuncturist casually  mentioned that the second toe is the direct line to the belly, and he seemed to think that my surgery might correct the GERD.  Hmmmm....weird, I know, but I was hopeful.

So, here is the update:

I am officially off the omeprezole--the generic GERD drug for Prilosec that so many doctors are pushing on their patients these days. (I wish I had stock in the makers of Prilosec!) I did my own research and learned that you just don't quit taking that stuff cold turkey--it makes your stomach over-produce acid and makes the GERD worse. Yeah, I found that out before.....the hard way.  I took omeprezole for 5 days, then 1 day of Zantac. Then we slowly (!) went to 4/1, then 3/1, and then 2/1 until I was taking only the Zantac.  Now I have stopped taking Zantac except for when the GERD flares--which with much research and talking to others is a direct result of carbs (well, for me anyway).

Mix this combination of weaning with digestive enzymes (to aid digestion because the acid level is funky), DGL licorice(coats the throat), aloe vera juice (coats the throat), and a lot of carrot sticks (I dunno, they just help), and I am managing my GERD successfully so far.  My tummy is still funky at times, but heck, it has been through the mill with 2 years of omeprazole.  I'm sure we have some adjusting to do, but I am proud to say that I think that we are heading in the right direction.

Was it the toe? I don't know, but I'd like to give it a little bit of credit--It makes for a good story, doesn't it? 

While I got the official "okey dokey" from my doctor to start walking and even running a bit (what gave him that idea?), I have not ventured out for a true workout.  Call me protective of that newly straightened toe or maybe just lazy, but I haven't gotten further than the back 40 (feet) lately.  Okay, so Colin and I went on a hike a few weeks ago--that hasn't happened much since then. Sigh.

And I wonder why I feel so....bleh.

Anywho....while Hobbes and I were out in the snow the other day, I took a look around the yard a bit.  I took note of the large amounts of opossum poopers that need to be picked up, the cut-up Christmas tree that is now mulch in the garden, the wee birdy footprints under the feeders, and all the poor little plants coming up--confused by this warm weather.

I checked in on the praying mantis eggs too. Yep, still there clinging to the branches....waiting for a cabillion little creepy bugs to hatch in Spring.

It never ceases to amaze me the tiny miracles that surround us. Even icky miracles.

Hello, down there....

The opening around the pond heater was extra-large the other day, and so I was allowed a peek at our little buddies under the ice.  There they were, all swimming around in spite of the icy ceiling above them.  No sign of the frogs though--they must really be slumbering.

It always amazes me how those wacky fish and frogs manage to survive under that ice--even with the heater to create an air hole.  It just all seems so..... you know.....cold. Brrrrrr. 

It's a weird world in winter--one that I can't imagine those who live in warmer climates year round would understand.  When the cold and snow come, the outside world sort of shuts down.  We all hunker in our homes and toast our cold bones by fireplaces or just the glow of the TV.  We don't see much of our neighbors (thank god) and it's like the world is hibernating. 

When you live as close together as we do, winter is a good thing--we all need a break from the annoyances of each other.  We don't hear radios blaring music we don't like. We don't hear squealing tires or loud motorcycles. There are no lawn mowers or leaf blowers.  Heck, I don't even smell my neighbors cigarette smoke in my family room during winter months.  It's all quiet--gloriously quiet. And neighbor free.

I imagine that is what it is like for my fish friends as they swim around under the ice.  It's probably quiet and dark, sounds muffled and no annoying visitors like the raccoon or opossum to eat you.  Oh, they still come to drink water by the heater, but there isn't much fishing going on during winter. Apparently opossum are not big ice fishermen.

I think we all need this time of respite--even the fish.  It's good to just slow down, relax, and ignore the world for a bit.  It's stressful that big 'ole world, you know.  So, while everyone is trash-talking the snow and the ice, I'm sorta glad for the time off. 

Hibernation is underrated.

 

I love Hobbes .....and snow

After I made sure the coast was clear of cops and other assorted pains-in-the-neck (a.k.a. neighbors), Hobbes and I ventured out into the snow.  One of us bravely lead the way, making trails for the other, less brave Eskimos.

After a little encouragement, my 47 lbs of Stripey Goodness met me in the yard:

And while the path was nice, he soon got bored of that and made his own trail.  It lead past me and Em....

over a mound or two of snow....

and straight over to the pond to see if he could see the fish or the frogs.

The whole adventure ended abruptly when he sniffed the heater and a foot  got a little soggy with cold pond water.  Snow is fun--but only until you get cold....or wet. 

After a half hour of playing in the snow and chasing snowballs, Hobbes called it a day and snoozed the whole adventure off in his basket by the fireplace.  He is not a very good Eskimo.

Wordless Wednesday

Who knew?!

I'm Heartless and Cold. Whatever.

Hobbes is just cold.

 
Okay, what's the deal with all the bums these days?  No, seriously. On my way to and from work, it's like the Bum-O-Rama.  There are so many dudes limping, walking with lame-o cardboard signs, shaking cans, pounding on buckets, walking up to cars--doing whatever it takes to bum money off hard-working citizens. It's annoying as hell. Now just move outta the street, Bum Boy, I've got to get to work.

Now before you all say "Oh, that Lin. She is heartless and mean. She doesn't like bums," you've got to understand that these are professional beggars.  They have been working the circuit for years. And if you were so destitute for years, you'd be skinny or haggard, or even dead, right?  Nope. These guys aren't even losing weight or looking worse-for-the-wear after years of this gig. I think they are big giant scammers--which just makes me mad.

There is one guy that I have seen around the south side of Chicago for 25 years. Seriously. Not making that up.  He's been working the streets, selling flowers to cars for over 25 years. And I know that because Joe and I used to see him when we were dating--and that was a long time ago. He's a scrawny looking dude with a long, hooked nose and no chin.  So, naturally, I gave him the moniker "No Chin".  And no, he is not of Asian decent, so it's not really mean to call him that.

No Chin has been seen in every kind of weather, working every busy street corner on the south side for years. Sometimes he wears a knit cap. Sometimes you see him holding a cup. Sometimes he's sportin' a piece of cardboard begging for food. But most times you see him selling flowers.  But at least he's doing something for the cash--the other knuckleheads are just doing what I call "Bum Theater"--it's where you just look really, really sad and limp a bit between the rows of cars at stoplights and hope someone opens their windows to give you cash.  There are some award-winning performances, I tell you. And people fall for it--every single day.

Criminy.

I have favorite bum these days, Limping Larry.  He's the master of sad and the king of pathetic.  Day after day, he walks all wobbly, limping sadly with one leg, holding a cup against his chest.  And he walks--up and down the rows of cars.  What gets me about Larry is that he actually passes up the newspaper dude--who looks older, less fortunate than he in his battered coat, and more in need than Larry will ever be. But the difference is that the newspaper dude is working.  He's walking the same exact path, at the same exact time, doing something constructive to earn a meager living.  At least he is trying.

And I'm not sure why the cold is bringing them all out. It seems to have started at Christmastime--I think they count on people feeling guilty or something.  I don't --but I think you knew that already. But I do like that it is wintertime because it is a lot easier to ignore these goofs with your windows up. 

Don't get me started about the summer bums who wear shorts to show off their prosthesis limbs for that added effect.  Criminy.

Go get 'em! Or not.

 Hey! It's Monday!!

After a fun weekend of good friends, music, cocktails, a couple of hilarious comedians, and a bit of dancing at an Irish bar, I'm heading into the week with leaps and bounds!

Kinda like this guy:




Well, I'm not really.  I was just trying to motivate myself. I'm never that spunky on Monday.

Or any other day for that matter. 

Happy Monday, pallies. Blech.

It's a Marshmallow World.......finally

Winter has officially come to Chicago. 

We're in that phase of snow after snow, leaving no time for melting in between.  The roads are cradled between the bumper pads of plowed snow, which just get taller and taller with each snowfall.  The streets are also very white--not from snow, but from the huge amounts of road salt they pour on them.  Commuting is disappearing lanes, snow ruts, and the reemergence of potholes.  It's interesting to say the least.

But while all that ugliness abounds, the rest of the scenery is lovely.  The entire world wears a little white cap of snow this morning. Everyone looks like a newly groomed poodle with a little white pouf on its head.  It's all clean and white, unsullied by footsteps or dirt--its just beautiful.

I can't wait to get my boots on and get out there to take photos.  And yes, I will be taking Hobbes with me, but we'll be keeping an eye out for the cops.  We're rebels like that.

The Friday Dance

Yeah.

It's Friday. And it's gonna snow--a lot. Which is great because I'm off work and I don't have to drive anywhere except the foot doctor, which is early in the morning, wayyyy before snow accumulation time. Then I can sit at home and hang with Hobbes and my Kindle by the fire.

Kinda makes me wanna dance. Like this guy:



Em seems to find this dude and his dancing hilarious for some reason. I dunno. Maybe it's kinda like how I dance so I don't find it half as funny as she does.

I'm just impressed he can even move with his pants so tight.

Happy Weekend, pallies. I wish you dancing and lots of it this weekend. (Even if it is just in your mind.)

I love Hobbes Thursday: Retro Hobbes

Ah, the good 'ole days when he actually fit in his basket.  I think this was taken.....oh....about 13 pounds ago.

Hobbes and the rest of us are wishing our dog pally, Abby, a very speedy recovery! Abby and her owner, Gerard, were attacked the other day on their walk by a couple of hoodlum dogs who had gotten loose. Abby is showing some positive signs, but she is badly hurt.  Gerard got bitten up when he tried to save Abby.  We are praying that she and Gerard recover quickly.  We are also sending love to Karen as she is very worried about them both.


Get well soon, Abby!

And this is why cats don't have cell phones

I have to preface this story with some background facts about my cat:

1. Hobbes loves the snow.  How many cats do you know that willingly go out and stick their face in it?
2. Hobbes likes outside. You have all seen the video of him throwing a fit by the door to go out.
3. Hobbes has a basket by the fireplace to warm his body after he has been outside.
4. We love Hobbes....a lot.

Then I have to preface this story with some background facts about the police in Weirdville: (don't get ahead of yourselves here yet)

1. They can't find the drug house on my block, even though a high-ranking detective lives directly across the street from it.
2. They arrested a woman for child neglect at the local Walmart a couple of Christmasses ago because she parked her car in the front of the store to walk two small children to put their change into the Salvation Army kettle. She parked there because she had a toddler in a car seat asleep. She locked the doors and literally walked 10 feet to the kettle and back. It made national news for being totally ridiculous. They dropped the charges only after it aired nationwide and they made fools of themselves.
3. They are not allowed to write tickets to Weirdville residents because the Mayor doesn't like that. It's sorta the wild west because of that.
4. They can't apparently can't find the two cars that have been parked on our street for weeks--in spite of the winter parking ban in snow over 1 inch.  The plow has to go around these vehicles.
5. Barney Fife looks good in comparison to this police department.

So, now the story:

I was reading and fell asleep for 45 minutes yesterday after work--Em was doing homework, so the house was quiet and dark.  We both jumped to find someone pounding on our back bedroom window and a flashlight shining back and forth through the window.

Our hearts were pounding and we ran to each other. There was someone screaming "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR!" while all of this pounding and flashlighting was going on and I told Em to get in her room. I didn't know what the hell was going on or who it was. I was scared to death.

I ran through the house to the back door, and as I did, I noticed a squad car in front of our house. My heart stopped--I figured Joe was dead. I mean, what else could it be? And why were they pounding on my window in the backyard? Why didn't they ring the bell or knock on the door? My mind was racing.

All that I heard as I opened the door to the 2 awaiting patrolmen was "Do you have a cat?" and "Do you know that this is animal abuse?"  I didn't know what the hell he was talking about.  "Yeah, I have cat...." and I was shaking....literally. "Animal abuse? Wha???"

According to these two I'm-typically-in-a-coma cops, they were driving by and saw Hobbes mewing at the side door to come in.  I had let him out (on his own accord, mind you--he does this 10 times an hour) and fell asleep. He was outside in the cold for 45 minutes--and no, it was not subzero temps--he wouldn't go outside in anything really cold.  And this caught their police eyes???? Really?  And they noticed that poor skinny (?) kitty, abused, neglected, and tortured, outside? In my yard??? As they were driving by? Really?

Criminy. Is there NO other crime in this community to be investigated?

So, Em and I told them what happened, showed them the cat door, and tried to convince the orange stripey to come out from behind the shed (he was afraid of the cops). Fortunately, they did not arrest me, Emma and I did not go to jail,  Hobbes did not freeze, and Joe was not dead.


And for the animal abuse allegation (without even investigating), Officer, would you like to see his basket by the fireplace with his blankie in it, the bubbling water fountain of fresh water for the two kitties, the stack of cat toys on the fridge, the plethora of cat food (just look at those 18 lbs, Officer), his uber-cool peace collar around his neck, his cat door, the assorted blankies strewn on comfy furniture all over this darn house, just so you can see how truly abused this animal is?

Yeah, I thought not.


I think that is the last time Hobbes will be calling the cops on us for not letting him in fast enough.  I think he was more scared than all of us.

Traveling Candy

I was reading one my favorite columnists in the Tribune yesterday and dang, if girlfriend didn't nail it again.  She wrote about the odd things we eat when we are on a road trip--and only on road trips.  I swear that woman writes my life story--well, minus the frog and fat cat stories.

There is just something about a road trip that makes you stock up on strange, quickie-mart foods.  Things that we do not buy at the grocery store on a regular day is now coveted when you are on the road and making a pit stop at some divey gas/mart.  We peruse the aisles like it's some gourmet buffet, when in reality it's just crap food that you wouldn't touch if you were at home. But it's so enticing when you are on the open road, with no rules or healthy food to hold you back.

Foods like Tangy Taffy, Corn Nuts (that nearly break your teeth), PayDay candy bars, and Powerade have all been known to find their way to our car, but there is just one treat that is the staple of vacation car rides in our family-----Twizzlers.  And they have to be the red rope variety--none of those bite-size kinds or twisty-peel-away kind.  We are connoisseurs of  Twizzlers, this family.

I'm not sure who started the Twizzler thing for road trips, but it isn't a trip until whoever is driving makes the call:  "Got any of dem dere Twizzler sticks?"  And you have to say it like that for some reason.  It's part of the history that is our family road trip snack-o-rama. So, we roll our eyes, and hand over the bag of Twizzlers, and then proceed to inhale those suckers like we have never eaten before. 

While we all laugh about the stupid Twizzlers/vacation connection, I can remember my mom stocking up on Snaps when we were kids.  We never bought Snaps the rest of the year--it was only for vacation, and only for the car ride. We didn't eat the Snaps the rest of vacation if I remember right. Nope--we had PayDays and Bugles for the actual vacation part.

PayDay candy bars were for the beach and the pool wherever we went on vacation.  It was a huge treat to sit in the sunshine on your beach towel and snarf down that delectable combination of sweet and salty.  To this day, we buy PayDay candy bars for the pool and the beach for my own family. It's kinda a history thing.


I think all of this trip/candy thing started with my grandpa, he used to pass out candy to all the kids in the car whenever we went somewhere with him.  Oh, what a kick it was to hear him laugh as he passed out candies to us. We never got in the car with him without it.  I'd like to think he started the craze, but then I read the article in the paper today. Apparently other people have "Traveling Candy" too.


Ms. Brotman wrote about her addiction (Hostess orange cupcakes) because Hostess just filed bankruptcy and the future of all HoHos, Ding Dongs, Twinkies (No more Twinkie Casserole????! GASP!), and fruit pies is uncertain.  Imagine your traveling food gone forever?  What?! No Twizzlers??! I don't want to imagine.  Vacation would be ruined, I suspect.

It's one thing to have the kids grow up and leave us to take vacations alone. But it is a whole other thing to be Twizzler-less.

Who wants to be the mom?

The most wonderful/difficult part of parenthood is the direct connection of your heart to your child's.  While it is lovely in those good, happy moments, there is no pain like that of the one your child is suffering--because you suffer their pain too.....times ten.  All those teams not made, friends who were nasty, childhood disappointments....they are shared by me, their mom.

And it never goes away--no matter how old they get.

It's hard to be the mom, I have to keep that you-can-do-it smile on my face, all the while they are doubting themselves--and sometimes you are secretly doubting inside as well.   You make up it's-gonna-be-okay encouraging words and stories, even though you want to scream with them.  And there have been a few kids that I have wanted to punch--just for the hurt that they have created....in us all.

The worst part?  It's the smiling when it is all over and whatever problem is long forgotten.  I stand there, exhausted, angry, disappointed, sad, etc. and your kid walks away--moving onto the next adventure, completely letting go of whatever just happened.

I had one of those moments this weekend.  I dealt with nerves, anxiety, and frustration and then had to stop asking questions when I got "the look".  When the dust settled and I called to check in--I was met with a "It's fine, Mom." Okay.  Commence turning off emotions.

sigh. If only it was that easy.

Doo Wap Dipty Doo

Sometimes I think the entire world is crazy.....and then sometimes I just think it is just me.

Em had to pick her classes for her Senior year this week, so there we sat at the kitchen table for an evening, discussing the merits of this class or that--and the downfalls of some of the teachers that teach those classes.  Is it honors this or AP that?  Do we take this class with this teacher or go down a level and get that one?  It's all very complicated. Finding the right mix of a challenging class with a good teacher was escaping us on a couple of levels.

Exasperated,  Em finally asked if I could go in and talk to her counselor with her--we just needed to know our options and figure out a plan.  Sure.

But it wasn't so easy.

I email her counselor and immediately get the reply "I'm sorry, I am out of the office until the following week".  That's it. No "If you need to get a hold of someone in counseling call such and such" or automatic email forwarding to another counselor. It was just "Yeah, sorry. I'm out on vacation even though I just had two weeks off for the holidays AND it is class scheduling time.Too bad for you."  Sigh.

After a couple of emails to the school, I get a call yesterday morning from a very annoyed counselor who wanted to convince me that I really don't need to come in.  Which really didn't work for me and I think I kinda gave him that message.  It was a mess. I mean, what does it take for counselors to counsel these days? Or employees to show up for work and actually DO their work?  It seems to be a theme for those around me lately.

I made an appointment with this guy (much to his chagrin) for later in the day.  I swear I heard a deep sigh as we were setting the time--so that sorta miffed me even more.  So, I asked his name again and he replied "Shama. Mr. Shama."

And the first thing that came to my mind?  Shama-lama-ding-dong.

Seriously. And how utterly appropriate for this knucklehead.

I called back and canceled that appointment.  And when I met with another counselor instead, I didn't once refer to the first knucklehead as Shama-lama-ding-dong.  Not once.  You'd be proud of me.

But I thought about it.

My Monkey is Exhausted

There are just some tasks that may be too hard for the monkey. Seriously. He's doing his Mojo Monkey Magic, but sometimes, you just can't beat some things in life--and big boobies are one of them. Mojo Monkey's can't top a double D apparently. 

No matter what my little friend throws to the wind, no matter how much havoc he creates, the powers that be just overlook it all.  Coming in late, not showing up at all, messin' up your work, and creating controversy and conflict at every turn--all ignored.  Why? I dunno, but I'm beginning to think that big boobies and dressin' like a hooker makes those in charge forgive a lot of sins. I don't know how else to explain it.

The monkey is exhausted.  And I'm sorta giving up hope that he's doing much good.  But, he's good company, so I keep him close.....and I hope against hope......

We may need to call for Monkey Back-up.


Oh....on another note:  We did the super-professional drawing (Joe drew two winners out of a bowl of names) for the winners of The Bat Sanctuary donation yesterday and I'm excited to announce that the winners are......

Ann and Anita's Mom!!!

I was really excited that Anita's Mom won after her super sweet story of her and Anita swimming and the bats swooping in for a drink.  Made me smile lots.  And of course, we love Ann and Duke too!  I think Marie, Anita, Ann, and Duke will be happy to know that they are helping some little bats survive.  

Congratulations, bat lovers!

Snow Man

The winds of change are blowing in today--literally. We are gearing up for our first snow of the season--a whopping 3-6 inches are predicted. It's funny how everyone is so worked up about it, it's all anyone talks about. I think folks are honestly excited about having some snow....finally.

There is one person I'm pretty sure is NOT excited about the upcoming storm--well, besides Hobbes, I mean.

On my way to work each morning, I pass this man riding his bike on the sidewalk. He is a husky Hispanic man bundled up like Nanook of the North. Poor guy is peddling like a fool, probably trying to get to work and stay warm at the same time. I'm guessing this is his only means of transportation--which is gonna be interesting if we have any accumulation of snow.

I look at that guy every day and I think how fortunate I am to have a car. A simple thing like a car--isn't that weird? There I am, all warm and listening to the morning news while he is peddling away, trying to avoid traffic and road debris. Gees, that is a tough way to start the day, isn't it?  Just imagine what your hair would look like after a death-defying ride to work like that.

So, while the rest of the folks are gearing up for our first snow of the season, I'm sure my Road Warrior friend is probably dreading the morning commute. I'm sure his sidewalk trail won't even exist if we get the 6 inches of white stuff. Yuck.

I toast the Road Warrior this morning--brave, cold guy that he is. He is my everyday hero just for making that commute--rain or shine.........or in today's case, snow. Brrrrrr.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday - Well, if the cat likes it.....

G'ma Phyl bought me a Kindle for Christmas, and while I was unsure whether or not I'd like using it, Grace gives it the official "thumbs up".  There is something to be said for technology that keeps the cat on your chest undisturbed as you flip pages on the book you are reading.

Lil Drac ROCKS!

Look what I won over at Your Daily Cute!

Snappy, eh?

Dorian (tender-hearted gal that she is) posted these adorable videos that show the good that is happening at a bat rescue in Texas.  She was making a donation in the name of one her readers and that lucky reader was ME. Hooray!

I received this neon pink bracelet in honor of her donation (thank you, Dorian!) and now Em and I are fighting over who gets to wear it. It reads "BAD"--which stands for "Bats are Deserving".  But I think that it means a whole other thing when Emma wears it. (Don't tell her I said that)

Either way, raise your awareness of The World Bat Sanctuary and the sweet little creatures they help by watching these videos.  If you don't fall in love with Lil Drac, there is seriously something wrong with your heart:



*sniff* *sniff* Wasn't that lovely?  Wanna know what happens to Lil Drac?

Yeah, I did too.  Look:  (grab your hankies--"sweet" alert!)




Dang. Isn't that just the sweetest thing EVER?

Thank you, Dorian, for the bracelet, donation in my name AND for introducing me to a great cause.  I'd like to pass on the love of Lil Drac and his friends and do the same for TWO of my readers.  So, leave me a comment and let me know if you are in and I'll toss your name into the mix.  I'm gonna skip the bracelets and just do a cash donation--more money will go to the bats that way.

No, John, you can't have enough feet posts

My friend, John, told me the other day that I post too many photos of my feet on my blog. Really? Because I don't think so--especially when you have great toe stories. I don't think there are a lot of great feet bloggers out there, so maybe I've carved out my niche. I think it's a brilliant idea--unless I start getting weirdo feet people leaving comments on my blog. Then, not such a great idea.

I think he is also secretly jealous of my straight toe, which, by the way, was revealed to the general public in a vodka gimlet induced toe-peep show Saturday night. Okay, so this evening also featured crooked fingers and spit balls (shot by the adults, I might add), so I think you can see that me showing off my newly-fixed toe wasn't exactly weird.

Well, maybe it was....just a little. But that toe starts conversation, I tell ya.  Everyone has a toe story it seems.  Or a crooked finger--according to another friend, Steve.  I'd like to take credit for inspiring him to schedule his surgery to get that thing fixed.  So, yeah, John, my toe is inspiring too.  Me and Toe--we are gonna take on the WORLD. We are kinda like Oprah in that way.

And for the record, I have photos of other people's feet on this blog too:

Look familiar, John??  Hmmmmm? 

If this takes off, we may be changing the name of the blog to Duck and Wheel with String and Feet.  Criminy, imagine the header.....

Yesterday......Swanarific

It was 55 degrees here yesterday. Seriously, I could have sworn it was spring, except I know better.  When we've got "normal" temps in April, we are gonna be moaning because it is going to be COLD. 

After my foot doctor gave me clearance to exercise again (rats.), I laced up the old jimmies and headed to a local hiking path.  I grabbed Colin too--much to his chagrin.  But it was just too lovely to be inside and that toe was just itchin' to get moving again. Colin was not itching to get moving, but he went anyway--which was nice.

We headed over to Lake Katherine--a local park that has a walking path around a small lake.  It's nice there--quiet, scenic, and loaded with seniors, dogs, joggers, and moms with kids.  I felt odd and not fitting into any of those categories.  I miss having little ones again--this seems to be my mood lately.

My favorite part of Lake Katherine is the swans.  Last summer, they had babies and I'm guessing these are them all grown up.  I know nothing about swans, but I did learn that they are some pterodactyl-sized beasts and when they fly they sound like jet airplanes.  What it takes to get those bodies airborne is amazing--the sound of their wings in the air is LOUD.  I think I said that like a thousand times--which was sufficiently annoying to Col. 

Here is the other thing I learned about swans yesterday--they are much lovelier in the water. Those big preening birds are just massive when they are out of the water. I just kept wondering if people eat swan--and how much white meat is on that sucker.  Is that wrong?  I mean, I don't want to eat them, but I could not believe how darn big those things are up close--they make geese look tiny in comparison. And what kind of pot would you roast that thing in?

It is stuff like that which makes Col roll his eyes and walk faster....ahead of me.  He doesn't like to think about stuff like I do.  Nor does he think I'm funny.  Sheesh.

This is the best part of the whole day--just hanging with Col before he goes back to school. Okay, so this was only about an hour--I'll take it.  I miss that kid when he isn't here.....a lot.  And I think I said that about a cabillion times this holiday break too.  He's gonna hear it in his sleep, I'll bet.

And just for the record, I offered to hold his hand like the old days--you know, like when he was little.  He refused. 

Sigh.

I'm not sure if I miss it or not

Shhhhhh. If you listen carefully, you can almost hear them snoring.

Typically, I don't see a little frog head appear until March or April, but these "warm" days have interrupted the winter slumber party for a few frogs.  I actually saw a little guy sitting out in the rain the other day--a rare occurrence for Chicago in January.  It's such an odd winter this year.

Heck, January is a week down and we haven't had an accumulation of snow yet--which is really strange.  I almost miss it.  I think.

Remember last year around this time?

You know it's bad when you have to shovel the pond heater. I have to keep an air hole open so that the gasses from the pond can escape, otherwise the fish, frogs, and snails can die from lack of oxygen.  I think we had 3 feet of snow over the top of that thing last year.  Yuck.

I think I will stop complaining about the warm winter now. It's all perspective, people.

If only my box had a lid...

Peace.

It does not mean to be in a place

where there is no noise, trouble

or hard work. It means to be in

the midst of those things and still

be calm in your heart.    --unknown

It's funny, but when I saw this photo, I pictured myself sitting in my cubicle at work with chaos and commotion surrounding me.  There I sit (for the very few part-time hours that I'm there) trying to escape the games of who-can-do-the-least-amount-of-work and ridiculous banter of conversation for the sake of conversation.  I wear my headphones a lot lately.

Work is a new adventure these days, but I'm not alone.  All around, I hear tales of this new, younger work force who don't really want to work, but put in face time to get a paycheck and benefits to move themselves along to the next place of employment with no regard to "company".  Managers everywhere are not willing to deal with problem hires because doing so means documentation and action-plans that require diligence and babysitting.  Why bother if we don't have to?  If someone complains, it's best to tell them to ignore it or just to "get along"--good employees will do just that, you know. Now, isn't that easy? Problem solved.

It's a whole new world--one that I am not used to and definitely a big reason why I did not care to be a full-time worker and a part-time mom when my kids were small.  I'm not good at this playing-the-game sorta stuff--it just makes me miserable. Can we all just work hard and do our jobs?

My life has changed now, down-sized from my full-time mother status, I'm slowly easing back into the work force--stuck now with childish behavior and silly manipulations to deceive employers into thinking that we are actually working.  I sound like my grandpa when I say "If only they would take all that effort and actually put it into their work....." It's not a place I like to be, but what is the alternative? The cats don't need PB & J sammiches at noon, unfortunately. Sigh.

So, while I'm not big into making resolutions, I do have to make some changes in my own mind set to survive. Like Hobbes, I have to learn to sit in my box and ignore the mess that surrounds me.  I've got to find that peace amidst it all and be calm in my heart.

And in the meantime, I'm listening to the likes of ELO's "Mr. Blue Sky" on the ipod to cope.  I know, I'm a dork.

Find the Kitty

One by one, I called each family member into the living room and asked them the same question:  Where's the Kitty?

Some took longer than others, but everyone needed the same coaching--look up.  Somehow nobody expected to find the 18 pound cat on top of the cabinet. Hobbes thought he was hilarious up there--I did not.

Apparently de-Christmassing the abode gets the kitties a little wound up--and one kitty in particular was finding every possible obnoxious place to be.  He was having one heck of a good time.  I was gonna kill him. 


And while I offered to help him down, Hobbes insisted on a Superman flight to the floor--he's lucky he didn't end up with four very uncool casts on his legs.

Now do you see why the Lladro nativity is inside the cabinet?

Pointing the Paw

Remember when I was all braggy that my cats left my tree alone? And remember how I said that they don't bother the ornaments or the wee village under the tree?

Yeah, they'll make liars out of you every time, those darn cats.

The other morning, I heard a small "thunk" in the darkened family room. I knew it was the sound of an ornament hitting the floor. So, I got up and walked over to where I heard the sound and found this:

And there wasn't just ONE ornament face-planted on the wood floor, it was TWO.  And one of them was my first ornament ever--my Baby Lin ornament. Oh, the nerve of somebody furry. 

I will point out that the Baby Lin ornament was high up on that tree. You know, I put it up high so just in case somebody got spunky, this, my favorite ornament of me, would be safe. Hmmmm......

And there it laid--face down on the wood floor, like that little angel-baby was drinking vodka gimlets the entire holiday season. But she wasn't--she is a baby, people. Sheesh.

So, I looked for the guilty orange stripey party.....

but instead I found this:

 Tinsel still stuck to her guilty head.

Grace, of all kitties.  My friend. My trusted pal. The "good" cat. Go figure.

The orange stripey bad guy was outside--and he had nothing to do with it.  No matter how much she tried to pin it on him.

Sure, NOW it comes

It's official--I'm done with Christmas and New Year's.  Well, actually, I was done with it three days ago, I just finally finished packing it all up and sticking it in the attic.  Sheesh, that is a lot of work for a few weeks of decorations around the house.   I'm glad Christmas only comes once year, I'm exhausted.

It was frustrating that after the last box of holiday was shoved up the attic stairs, the snow started to come down.  It's like it was holding out on purpose, driving the kids nuts with its absence.  Now we have little time left to hang out and here it comes--taunting us with snowy white slopes, bitter cold, and glittery ice, perfect to skate and sled on.  Sigh. That darn Susie Snowflake--she is such a tease.

Here we are, January 2 and beginning 2012.  I'm not one for resolutions (or revolutions), but I like to start the year positive, acknowledging the things I need to work on, and I make a conscious effort to improve myself, my skills, and my attitude.  I'm big with ditching the negative, not engaging drama, and trying to laugh just a wee bit more than the past year. I like Diane's thoughts on this--she's gonna stay light and just try her best.  I think I shall join her.

But first I have to go shovel the walk....