dust bunny club of north america

A day with the Oompas~

2011-12-14T00:58:00.000-07:00

"What's happening to me? I'm all toasty inside.
And I'm leaking. I love ya!

Today was spent Christmas shopping with Oompas Gabe, Zack, Art, Rocky, and Future Oompa-In-Law Steffi. We made it to only one store, Michaels and spent 1 and 1/2 hours there. I got my stuff rung up and discovered that I didn't have my debit card. I apologized and told the already holiday harried cashier that I was unable to pay and she would have to put the stuff back. The cashier said I was lucky she was on the other side of the counter then immediately said she was kidding. I didn't believe her. She looked and sounded like the kind of person who writes 'LOL' after every threat, insult and criticism she posts online but you know she's dead serious. The kind of person who says "Bless your heart" when what she really means is "Go to hell!" She just stood there waiting for me to produce my debit card from my previously proven empty pockets like it might magically appear or that perhaps I too had been kidding, LOL and bless your heart!
I had already told her once to cancel the transaction and was afraid to say it again. Short of volunteering for a full body cavity search I didn't know what else to do when Art came to my rescue and swiped his debit card. That was as close to a near death experience as I ever want to get.
My memory returned to me when the chilly December air hit my face outside the store. Gabe had used my debit card when we gassed up the car earlier. Phew, that was a relief!
Dinner at Panda Express (their mushroom chicken is AWESOME, and the blonde Hispanic girl really packs the plates!) and then we finished the night with an encore presentation of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas". For a second, underneath the green fur, I thought I saw the cashier from Michaels.

IT'S A HE!

2011-12-06T16:52:00.002-07:00

My newest grandbaby is expected to arrive mid May, and it's a boy! I'm so excited but I have to remind myself to tone it down because it's not my baby... I have to share! Hmmph! We'll see about that! Anyhow, Art and Steff are both positively glowing with pride and excitement. I guess we were kind of calculating on a summer arrival and while the young parents to be are a little frantic now that they have less time to prepare, I am excited because I don't have to wait as long to hold the tiniest Oompa~

EMERGENCY SUBSTITUTIONS: Thanksgiving Edition

2011-11-26T12:13:00.001-07:00

* Chicken for turkey: 2 years is 2 years 2 long when storing a turkey in a cranky old freezer. If after thawing you are greeted by a less than pleasant smell coming from your Butterball but the local grocers are all sold out of turkeys of any kind because... hey, it's Thanksgiving day.. a whole chicken, or even cut up chicken pieces, make a delicious last minute substitution. You may even find yourself preferring it if you try deep frying them in peanut oil after injecting them with Creole Butter marinade. Make sure to fry them with the skin on, that's the best part!

* Confectioners sugar for granulated sugar: This should be used as a last resort (I used all the colored sugar sprinkles the last time I made iced tea here). Powdered sugar contains starch in it so it will cloud liquids and thicken if it gets cooked or baked. My biscuits weren't as fluffy as I was used to but that may also have been because the yeast was one year out of date.

* Flour for corn starch. Good thing Gabe ran me to the store to buy flour before he took off our we wouldn't have had biscuits OR gravy! I would have used the confectioner's sugar which contains starch, but that would have made my gravy too sweet.

* Baking powder for baking soda. Another reason my biscuits may have been a little off in taste, but they weren't bad. Of course I found 2 unopened boxes of baking soda AFTER I mixed the dough.

* Boxed wine instead of bottled wine. And you don't have to worry about finding that forever missing cork screw!

4 of my kids were in the 4 directions of the compass so it was just my future ex, my 2nd oldest son Zachary and myself. The table was cluttered so we cleared a spot for our plates and sat down. No candles this year, no fancy glasses. I even forgot to cook the yams but nobody seemed to notice. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' in the background. It wasn't a traditional Thanksgiving, but it was certainly a pleasant one.

Note to self: I moved out of the house a year ago. Since then my well stocked kitchen has dwindled. The next time I have to cook or bake at the house I should bring my own ingredients cos it's a Man-Cave now~ they don't have sissy things there like sugar, just salt, pepper and Tabasco sauce.

Finally, GREAT NEWS!

2011-11-17T10:46:00.000-07:00

I'm positively glowing. Pregnancy does that to a woman. No, I'm not pregnant, my son Arthur is~ or actually his girlfriend Stephanie is. And I am positively glowing! Next year is going to be a great year. I'm anticipating a visit from my first grandbaby, who is almost 7 now, and the arrival of my newest. There's no stopping this smile on my face and in my heart!

NEWS FLASH~

2011-08-30T01:06:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I wish people could read my mind so I wouldn't have to stress over how I should tell them~

PPTSD? (Parental Post Tramatic Stress Disorder)

2011-08-27T00:56:00.001-06:00

As the mother of a soldier who was deployed in a war zone twice, I think I suffer from a different type of PTSD. I never saw the horrors, and my son came back to me in one piece although he would never be the same~ but I myself had changed. The months of staring at the computer screen, searching for the tiniest bit of information and yet hating to read it for fear of the worst. Waiting for hours for the phone not to ring~ only to stare, frozen in my seat when it did. Running to the window every time a car drove into the cul de sac, but not wanting to look in case it was a black government vehicle. I can no longer watch war movies, not even my favorite Green Berets. And this video brought me to tears. Loved it by the way, but I still cried.

After-thoughts~

2011-08-25T15:37:00.000-06:00

So, after sitting and thinking on it for a day I realize that perhaps my last entry may have been published a little hastily and without careful consideration. Chances are he will read it. And so might she. She may be flattered... or offended. If he hasn't seen it yet, he will after that. There will quite possibly be no more invites to cook, no more free steak dinners.
And yet the entry remains~
Probably because even if I were to delete the words, the feelings remain the same.
I don't see how they can go on acting like nothing happened to anyone but themselves. My whole world was knocked off of it's rotation, my future plans were discarded like yesterday's trash. I sit in a bedroom that I share with my daughter, a dog and a cat, trying to stretch an $800 paycheck into $1000 worth of bills and failing miserably. I can't even afford my own pride~
It would be so easy to just hit [Delete] and play along like everything is okay. Wedding vows, pahhhh! They are so over-rated, merely a mindless tradition. A simple click of a button before they see it and I can prevent so much additional grief. Yet I can't. Tonight I shall enjoy our last supper of sorts because when it hits, and it will hit, it ain't gonna be pretty.
It happened. Things changed.
And the entry remains.
(jab!)

I'M SO OVER HIM!

2011-08-25T12:43:00.001-06:00

I've been invited to cook supper over at the future-ex's. I don't mind~ free steak and the company is decent. We're still friends, he and I, so it's cool. All I wanted ever in terms of revenge (yes, I admit I want revenge!) was for him to miss me. I think I've gotten the hint by now that he doesn't really miss 'me' with my sarcasm, flipped priorities and extreme organizational flaws, but he DOES miss my cooking and pathetic as it may seem that's good enough for me. Do I miss him? No. I miss the relationship, but not him. Can't miss what you never had.
Agh! I can't believe he pretended that I was HER! (pokey pins away! STAB, STAB, STAB!)
Oops, sorry, relapse. I'm okay.
And I really am so over him! (poke!)

?

2011-08-22T04:29:00.001-06:00

At 50 years of age I wonder... is it easier to look forward or behind? Is it easier to go back and fix things or to just start anew and see where experience will take you? Can my life long mantra of "No regrets" continue to serve me now that the number of days left is undoubtedly less than days passed. Should I mend those fences and broken bridges or forge new paths as I always have without a backwards glance? At what point should I admit that what I have artfully tried to portray as tracks of forward momentum have in fact all along been nothing more than splattering from the centrifugal force of my life, through no control of my own?
I can't believe I am losing sleep over this. I suppose that in itself is my answer.
May as well put on the coffee. It's going to be a long day.

FYI~

2011-08-05T10:52:00.000-06:00

Parenthood does not expire. 18 is not the magic age at which time you no longer must care about your children. It is not like a marriage. There are no vows taken and then taken away~ It is not like having a pet that you discard once you tire of it and the responsibility. And if you get hurt, you don't burn the bridges that you helped to create even though it may already be ablaze on the other end. You be the wiser one, the mentor... and you give that child the space and time to grow up and learn but you keep that door open in the case they should ever need to walk through it to you again.
You be a parent.
And parenthood never expires~

CAKE~

2011-07-27T01:22:00.000-06:00

Feeling a little like the eaten cake in the old "Have Your Cake And Eat It Too" equation.

Life is a race and the world is my track~

2011-07-20T09:29:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I'm 50. I don't exactly consider myself 'over the hill and on the downward slide'. That's for old people, older than me. I prefer to think of myself as being on the second lap of my life. I've gone around the track once and I'm picking up the pace. The funny thing is, I've noticed I'm making a lot more pit stops this time around~

Dirty rotten scales~

2011-07-18T09:00:00.000-06:00

I saw a bathroom scale lying out in an aisle of the Hardware Department at TheStore and gave in to the temptation to step on it.
I quickly remembered why I haven't been on one for over 2 years.
They lie!

FIRST SIGHT SYNDROME~

2011-07-13T02:23:00.000-06:00

Two guys passed me in The Store then one stopped, came back and smiled at me before rejoining his friend. I heard them talking behind my back.
"It was first sight syndrome. You know, when something looks good when you first see it but on second glance not so much~"
10 years ago I might have been hurt or even offended, but today I felt a sense of pride.
Hah, at least I made him look!

The Ultimate Psych-Out~

2011-05-09T11:31:00.001-06:00

It's 9:30 Mother's Day morning and someone is banging on my door. I peer through the peep hole and see Dickidoo with my middle son Zack. Wow, didn't see that one coming, but ok!
I let them in thinking they have some kind of Mother's Day surprise in store for me. Dickidoo asks where my youngest son is and seems irritated when I say he had just left for places unknown.
"We're supposed to work on the truck!"
Right~ I'm thinking and pretend to ignore the obvious ruse. Dickidoo helps himself to coffee and asks if there is anything to chew on. I direct him to the egg salad in the fridge and he makes himself a sandwich.
Okay, so maybe breakfast wasn't the plan.
They get in touch with Art and he returns home. The guys go out to 'work on the truck'. Or maybe they are cleaning out my car and giving it a nice wash like they did one year long ago. I get ready for work then open the door to check on 'the truck'. Art's girlfriend informs me that they probably aren't out there cos Art had mentioned that they had to go get parts.
Right~ I can play along....
The hands on the clock get closer and closer to my depart time but I dig deep into my unused patience and wait. The guys return and sit down, congratulating themselves in getting the truck running. It is now time for me to leave for work. Nobody gets up to see me out the door but I know they're be watching when I see my surprise.
From the sidewalk I recognize the dirt on my car. I am still hopeful when I open the door... and am greeted by the same old mess.
Then it dawned on me~ they were just waiting for me to leave so they could clean the apartment and fix me a nice dinner. The day dragged but I got the expected text from one of them, Becca, asking me to come home for supper so she could get something. Right~
I got home to an empty but messy apartment. Supper was the last of the egg salad.
Dickidoo texted me so he could pick up the car to drive Zack back to the Shop and I met them in the parking lot. He asked how things were going. I don't think it even dawned on him that it was Mother's Day.
"You sabotaged my Mother's Day!" I accused. "Those kids probably weren't planning on making breakfast but I could have blackmailed or guilt-tripped them into making something until you came banging on the door to work on the stupid truck... on MOTHER'S DAY! I saw more of Art's girlfriend than I did of my own children, how sad is that?"
Well, he did offer to take me out to dinner after work but the truth is, it wasn't about us~ it was about me and the kids, and he ruined that.
Well, not really. My kids did shower me with gifts and cards, notes and texts, hugs and kisses later and throughout the day and once again I was Queen for a day.
But man, that guy really knows how to pee on a parade!

WHO WOULD HAVE THUNK IT~?

2011-04-23T00:41:00.000-06:00

I will be house sitting my house this week. Weird huh? Who would have thought in their wildest dreams that one day they would be house sitting their own house?
What can I say, my marriage, to say the least, has been wild.
So I'm house sitting my house (I am on mortgage as the co-owner) and my payment for the week... 1/4 bottle of Absolut vodka. But it's not a little bottle. It's a fricken huge bottle that probably holds close to a gallon~ which means that I have been paid about 2 quarts of vodka to babysit my house.
Sounds good to me~

When bad days attack!

2011-04-11T23:19:00.001-06:00

After getting up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, I asked myself if things could get any worse~ and they did! (I've got to stop asking myself that!) I got pulled over by a traffic cop going 46 mph in a 30 mph zone, or so he said. Naturally I didn't believe him, and I kind of told him so~ politely of course. I handed over my license, registration and proof of insurance, and then waited while he sat in his fancy, brand spanking new unmarked Charger. 20 minutes I sat there, fuming in my car while he sat in his car, probably stalling trying to figure out how to pronounce my last name. Luckily for both of us, a priority call came through before he could finish writing the summons and he returned my papers with a warning.

"Try driving a little slower in the future, like less than 16 miles over the limit slower." he said, obviously relieved that he didn't have to deal with my name. I thanked him a million times in my head but only said it out loud twice.

5 hours later I found myself traveling down the same roadway. 5 hours later I had one eye on my speedometer and the other out the window looking for the shiny blue Charger. And guess what happened? While cruising down the street, my foot nowhere near the gas pedal, the momentum of the car built and I was speeding down Main Street going 38 without feeling it. I tapped my breaks and thanked God that Smoky the Bear was nowhere in sight. I also thanked God that today was one of the rare moments when I held my tongue and did not challenge someone who had accused me of doing wrong, for I was in fact wrong. Had I challenged the officer he just might have found the time to finish writing out that ticket.

16 mph over the limit at $10 per mile, that's $160 plus the 50 court cost~ this ticket would have cost me $210 plus a couple of points on my license and a rate increase on my insurance.

Perhaps my day wasn't so bad after all.

Note to self~ don't go to bed on a full stomach!

2011-04-05T10:36:00.000-06:00

Last night I dreamed that I was pregnant. At my age that's not even funny! And being a Born Again Virgin, that would raise questions that I'm not so sure the rest of the world would be ready to hear and accept the answers for. Then of course, there would be the issue of having yet another one of my off spring loose on this earth. Not a good situation all the way around and no matter how you look at it.

But~ should the unthinkable ever happen...

If chosen to be the Born Again Virgin Mother, I promise that all church sermons will be limited to 10 minutes or less, all chapels will have a Crying Baby section, the pews will be cushioned and a fried chicken and biscuit dinner will follow every Sunday Service (to encourage attendance and fellowship of course! not to mention feeding my addiction to the combo.)

I am Dornbrau, Born-Again-Virgin and Dust Bunny President, and I approve this message.

Super Saimin~

2011-04-04T22:19:00.000-06:00

I made some saimin (ramen) when I got home, seasoned with dashi (broth), shoyu (soy sauce), sesame oil, hot sauce and black pepper, but Rocky and Boris saw me and intercepted.
Rocky: "Do you know what's missing from these noodles?" (slurp, slurp)
Me: "Yeah, about half a package!"
Rocky: "Yeah, but also bean sprouts~"
Me: "And Spam, and egg, and mushrooms!"
Super Saimin, yep, that's the way uh huh, uh huh, I like it!
I have learned to cook 2 packages at a time, not because I am a pig, but because my kids (and parrot) are pigs, and I would like to have at least a bite or two from the pot myself.

Who, me?

2011-04-02T00:12:00.001-06:00

Apparently I snore~
I vehemently deny the accusation but I am out numbered by my many accusers. Well, perhaps I do... a little, due to my seasonal allergies which have my sinuses so congested that my eyes bulge like a fat Chihuahua. It's not a pretty sight, believe me, but I don't care. I don't have to look at me.
Anyhow, I did a little research and it is recommended that I sleep on my side (I'm a tummy and back sleeper), don't take sleep aids (no melatonin?) and no alcohol.
Great, in order for me to stop snoring so everyone else can sleep, I must refrain from the very things that help me sleep?
Awwww, what the heck, sleep is over rated!
I still don't believe them cos I've never actually heard myself snore! I think they're just jealous of how fast I can achieve R.E.M.

Bleh~

2011-03-30T23:31:00.000-06:00

I took supper to Dickidoo this afternoon. Rocky asked me why. I had no good reason.
"You're such a wife," my youngest daughter accused. It's weird that I felt I had to defend myself and yet there was no defense. I am such a fricken wife!
So I decided that I should be a disgruntled fricken wife. I walked into his bedroom, which until 2 years ago used to be our bedroom~ and I left a calling card. A pinto bean and 3 chili salsa calling card. I only hope he gets home before the potency drifts away through the ventilation system. I have no real confidence in it though. I have always been a potent but sissy farter.
Seriously though I have had to make an extra effort to wean myself from my future-ex-husband. I miss talking to him. I miss joking with him. I miss sitting in silence beside him. I find myself talking myself out of impulses. I applaud those I deny. I mourn the ones I succumb to. Baby steps I tell myself, my nice self.
Is it wrong to want to baby step up his butt? My not so nice self thinks not.
Just a thought~

HOMESICK?

2011-03-12T23:50:00.000-07:00

With all that is going on in the world now days, and all that is happening in my own life, in a moment of quiet today I began to feel a little homesick.
Then I realized that I don't really know where my home is any more.
On the bright side of things, because there is always a bright side (if I keep saying this I will eventually start believing it), tomorrow is daylight savings and I get to wake up an hour earlier than usual so that I can go to work an hour earlier. Yep, it doesn't get much brighter than that!
What, who, me, facetious? Never!

The New "Middle Age"

2011-02-15T11:04:00.000-07:00

The older I get, the older 'middle aged' gets. Once upon a time, in my earlier prime, I considered 50 to be middle aged. Now that I am 50 I have decided, at least for the time being, that middle aged shall be 60ish for I fully intend on sticking around for at least another 60 years or so~
So here's to the ever elusive 'middle age'. May we never catch up to it in our life time.

The Last Anniversary~

2011-02-04T09:46:00.001-07:00

On February 4, 1984 we said "We do." From that moment on "We did." 27 years later we look back and say "We tried", but it wasn't enough. Letting go is harder for some than others, but in the end it is the only way to go forward. This I understand now, "I do." So when it was all that was left to do, "I did." Looking back I know that above all else, "I tried" even though it wasn't enough.
On my own now I look to the future with eager eyes and think "I can!" I wake each morning with a new goal and say "I will!" Each night as I fall into bed, it is with the satisfaction of knowing that "I did".
And I am happy again with who "I am".

This video was originally posted on February 4, 2006 in celebration of my 22nd Anniversary.

GROUNDHOG DAY 2011

2011-02-02T14:34:00.000-07:00

I don't need some big rodent who was rudely awaken from hibernation to look for his shadow to tell me whether or not spring is going to be early. One step out of the apartment this morning into the snot-freezing -12 degree air and I had my answer~ spring is no where near. It's not that hard folk. Half the Groundhog Day celebrations were cancelled due to blizzards. Spring ain't coming yet! Let poor little Puxatony Phil go back to hibernation. I'll see you all when global warming heats up this hemisphere and thaws the glaciers in my nostrils.

I'm outta there!

2011-01-27T10:13:00.000-07:00

I have finally made the first giant step towards independence by moving out of the house, The House of Loompa. So many memories were made there and I won't lie, most of them were good. Even the bad memories weren't that bad. But it was time to move on and I have.

It's getting easier to point the car in the direction of the apartment now, and all references to 'home' are about the little 900 sq. ft. 2nd floor apartment that I share with a son and daughter... and parrot.

The hardest part right now is cooking for 3. After cooking for 7 for so long it's hard to make the adjustment. Occasionally I'll catch myself before I start throwing things together but most times I'll find myself staring at dishes of food that will feed us for a month. Today is day 2 of teriyaki chicken. A bowl of tacoroni and cheese sits ignored in the refrigerator next to a zippy bag of Cajun chicken. That never happened at The House of Loompa. Guess it's time for a Left-over left-overs buffet.

And yes, I miss my best friend. I miss talking to him and sharing my day with him. I know what I have to do, but how do you let go of someone when you never really had a hold of them to begin with? You'd think that would make it easier but for some reason it does not.

So what do I do with this hole in my life? What do I fill it with? A new vice? A new hobby?

Baby steps. Let's just start with A New Me~

HAPPY NEW ME! (One step at a time~)

2011-01-05T11:37:00.000-07:00

2011 started with a resounding 'bang' that just keeps building. Last year is hardly what I would describe as a bad year although it did have it's challenges. I just felt like I was dangling in limbo, with no course, no destination and no means to get elsewhere. Today, on just the 5th day of the new year I am caught up in the ever growing momentum of life that has me breathless with anticipation.

One step out the door. One step away from Mrs. One step closer to Me.

Tomorrow my new home will be a tiny apartment on the south end of town, shared with a son, a daughter, a parrot, the shithound and 3 goldfish. It is only temporary until Art can find a permanent roommate. After that, for Me, who knows? But I can't wait to find out!

Some Of My Most Important Lessons Were Learned When I Was A Baby~

2010-12-16T08:34:00.000-07:00

They say that you are never too old to learn and at 50 years of age I believe that. I still maintain to this day though that some of the most important lessons in life were learned while I was still in diapers.

A nap is the best way to start the day.
If you're hungry, fuss until someone feeds you.
A nap is the best way to cure a full stomach.
If you make a mess, fuss until someone else cleans it up.
A bath followed by a nice long nap is a great way to refresh after a busy day.
A smile will get you EVERYTHING.
You don't need a reason to smile.
You don't need a reason to nap.
Smiles and laughter are contagious. So are frowns and cries.
Everything tastes better when you eat it with your fingers.
It is never too early, or too late, for a nap.
Just because something smells good it is not a guarantee that it will taste good.
You can never be too young or too old for a nap.
Hugs can be substituted for naps when naps are not possible at the time.
A nap is the best way to end the day.
When all else fails, take a nap, regroup and start again refreshed.
Everything is better after a nap.

These are some of life's earliest and most valuable lessons. And on that note, I think it's time for a nap~

BABIES COME FROM KISSING~

2010-11-28T21:05:00.001-07:00

It is inevitable that children are going to be curious about where babies come from. I have never filled my childrens' heads with fairy tales of birds and bees or the stork. I delivered 5 children so I think I am more than qualified to define where babies came from and let me tell you, there were no buzzing bees happily pollinating flowers with their little pollen sacks or a long necked stork with a train conductor's hat flapping around.

Nor did I feel the need to complicate things with the actual physical recipe. I kept it simple.

Babies come from kissing.

There may be different circumstances each time, but it all starts with a kiss, every single time. Then nine weight laden, increasingly uncomfortable months later, after pushing and panting for ions, the mother, not some stupid long necked, long legged bird, delivers a splotchy, slimy, purple skinned, screaming baby, leaving to wonder how it was possible that she had just squeezed something that ginormous out from an orifice in her body.

And if anyone is wondering, God is a male, because a female would never have blessed female kind with a menstrual cycle or the business end of conception.

The Taste of Autumn~

2010-10-19T11:19:00.000-06:00

I'm not a big breakfast eater. Yes, I know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, blah, blah, blah. I actually buy into that propaganda about twice a week. This morning was one of the twice. This morning I made an apple butter sandwich to go with my coffee.

Apple butter is a simple indulgence, a smooth, deep brown spread made from stewed apples and seasoned with cinnamon. Slathered between two slices of bread, with a swipe of butter and it is a meal fit for a king. I held the sandwich in front of my face and closed my eyes, breathing in the fragrant aroma. I was instantly transported to a time long ago.

Groton, Connecticut, 1968ish. It was autumn, the days were long and warm. The air smelled of freshly mowed grass and bayberries. In the distance the repetitive crackle of an ice cream truck lured children from all directions, but not me. I had an apple-butter sandwich clutched in my hands, the only clean surface on my almost 8 year old body following the required hand washing before acquisition of food. I held the sandwich in front of my face and closed my eyes, breathing in the fragrant aroma and I was instantly transported to a time not so long ago.

Scotland, 1964ish. It was a cool, crisp autumn day. The smell of smoke from every chimney in the neighborhood mingled with a faint hint of salt drifting up from the river hung in the air. The monotonous cawing of hundreds of sea gulls filled the atmosphere with almost a festive mood, but I was oblivious to anything but the two slices of thick bread separated only by a generous slathering of smooth, dark, spicy apple butter and creamy, home churned butter.

And I was instantly transported to another time, another place. It was autumn~

MY 'YESTER-ME'

2010-10-16T10:41:00.000-06:00

I was looking for a specific blog entry in my badly neglected Dust Bunny blog when I got caught up in reading some of my past entries. I hardly even recognized myself as the author. The woman-child words and descriptions of daily life filled the web pages with lighthearted humor. It was obvious that she was devoted to her children and even her husband whom she affectionately and sometimes exasperatedly referred to as Dickidoo. She seemed to find humor in almost anything, and when she chose to be serious, it was a deep, emotional side that came through. She was a simple person with a big heart and a bigger laugh.

I miss her.

I've tried to lure her out but she has retreated so far into the shadows of my mind that I fear I have lost touch with her completely. Her spontaneity has been replaced by cold calculation. Her laughter is now bitter and sarcastic. She doesn't sing, not even in the shower. Doodles no longer take over bill statements. She says she loves to cook but if you ask she probably couldn't tell you when she last prepared a nice sit down dinner for the family. She scoffs at the words 'love', 'forever' and 'trust'. She has accepted that she has become an American statistic.

So this is what 'growing up' feels like. Not sure I like the person staring back at me from the mirror in my mind. I'm certainly not liking what I am growing in to but I can't blame the metamorphosis on anyone but myself. I have allowed myself to become this.

Well, if she won't come to me then maybe I'll go back for her. I can never really go back entirely for obvious reasons, but I can certainly go back to being who and what I knew and loved. If you can't love yourself then who can you love? That may sound vain, but really, if you are not happy with yourself, who you are and what you are, then you can never truly be happy in any other aspect of your life. I miss being happy, truly happy.

I miss being me.

So be warned folks, here I come... again!

Happy "BLAH DE BLAH" Day to you~

2010-10-04T10:42:00.000-06:00

I woke up this morning and thought "Blah de blah!". No, really, I did. In my mind I clearly heard "Blah de blah!", and I thought "Wow, that's a nice change from the self deflating thoughts I usually harbor first thing in the morning." (yes, I really thought that too, in my internal tone of voice).

So what does one do on a 'blah de blah' kind of morning? I don't know about anyone else but I celebrated with red velvet cake, vanilla ice cream and 2 hour old coffee, barely lighted by an unhealthy splash of hazelnut creamer. Wondering how so many calories could weigh so little on my plate and yet multiply so greatly on my body, I picked the icing off of the cake and pushed it to the side of the plate, immediately alleviating all guilt.

Cake, ice cream, a mug of coffee and no guilt. What better way to start the day!

What I want~

2010-09-22T14:56:00.000-06:00

I've been flip-flopping worse than a Democratic senator on the hot seat but I think I've finally made up my mind, at least for today~

I don't want him to regret this any more than I can regret what led up to this end. I don't need the satisfaction of saying "I told you so," since I never had the satisfaction of warning him in the first place. I don't need to say "I was right and you were wrong." because I was never part of the discussion. The decision was made for me and I was handed the results without choice.

All that I want is to know that every once in a while, whether he wants to admit it or not, he misses me.

If I can't have that then I'd at least like to stop missing him and what we once were~

In the mean time I'll just pull up a seat and make myself comfortable while waiting for the temperature in hell to drop.... Hey, a girl can dream can't she?

Hi, I'm 50, how are you?

2010-09-14T16:53:00.000-06:00

Somehow, between accepting the inevitable and convincing family and friends that I was alright, I actually became a believer myself. Somewhere along the way 50 ceased being a number and became a state of mind. I have reached the top of the hill only to discover a mountain in the distance. Life is full of wonderful surprises. I intend on enjoying as many as I can while I can.

Next?!

IN PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS~

2010-09-01T15:15:00.000-06:00

How sad is the person whose hunger is never sated, whose thirst cannot be quenched and whose longing is eternal. To be able to move forward without tainting your memories with regret is a blessing. To be happy, to be satisfied and content with what you have is a gift far greater than the temptation of ambition. A simple life is all I ever wanted and it was what I have achieved.

I am happy. Are you?

If in doubt, it's mine!

2010-07-29T12:17:00.000-06:00

I am finally getting around to clearing out the closet from my old room. I dove in with great expectations of discovering long lost coinage and $'s. As of yet I have only recovered 13¢. I am not impressed. I did, however, find a treasure of another kind, an old wooden Roller Derby #10 skateboard.

Someone dug it out of the attic from a previous residence and I have been safe keeping it ever since. Dickidoo swears it was him. I know for a fact it wasn't me because I have claustrophobia and I will never enter a small enclosed area if I can find someone else to do it instead.

At any rate, we both want the skateboard. It's been in my possession all this time. I say it's mine. Dickidoo had a solution. He held up a fist.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

You have got to be kidding! How old is this guy again? I mean seriously, how fricken immature! I held the skateboard behind my back possessively.

"Huh uh, it's mine, so there!"

End of story. We don't need a lawyer for this.

I heard it on House so it must be true~

2010-07-27T22:36:00.000-06:00

"As long as you're here, it's just a fight. As soon as you get a place, then it's a divorce."
(House to Wilson on why he might be dragging his feet in moving out and getting a divorce lawyer.)

I suppose I'm dragging my feet. I suppose I should stop talking and start walking. I suppose~

I suppose that while it's true that I'm excited about my pending independence I'm actually terrified that I might not be able to make it on my own financially. From a distance I can convince myself that I can do it and I can do without, but when the time comes I back off because it's just not feasible.

Of course it's feasible. And yes, it will be financially difficult but here and now, looking into the future I know it will be worth it. If only I can convince my present self that there is no convenient, good time so it may as well be now.

I suppose~

ANTIBACTERIAL COFFEE~

2010-06-29T00:03:00.000-06:00

I found my cup of coffee right where I left it as I rushed off to be late for work this morning. A quick survey of the half empty, half full cup resulted in a green light and I downed the now room temperature hazelnut tainted beverage with almost, but not quite, the same enthusiasm I did this morning when it was still piping hot. Possible bacterial contamination never even crossed my mind. In two swallows it was gone, leaving just a slick mocha colored residue on the inside of my coffee mug.. and an ant carcass.

Ant carcass?

Well, there, see... just as I suspected. Day old coffee that's been sitting out in the elements is safe to drink because it will kill anything that tries to settle in it, including bacteria and ants!

To Observe or To Not To.

2010-06-26T11:31:00.000-06:00

Seems like now days every day is a holiday. Every occasion warrants a gift. I understand Valentines but Saint Patrick's Day? Cards and gift bags are available at all fine retailers and discount $ Stores for all your gift giving convenience.

Anniversaries for every occasion imaginable...

What about the anniversary of the decision to divorce? And while we're on the subject, is there a shorter term for the event because having to say 'the decision to divorce' is quite a mouthful that can surely be shortened to some idiotic, insensitive acronym of some sort.

This time last year Dickidoo was probably squirming and losing sleep over how to break the news of his life changing decision. This time last year I was ignorantly happy in my 'good-enough' rut of a life. It wasn't my idea of 'Happily Ever After' but it would do, or so I thought. He thought differently.

This time this year, which is right now, Dickidoo and I remain polite friends, no benefits, no illusions and no real direction. We're just floating with the tide, in a slow back and forth motion that gets us nowhere. There is no fighting, no bickering, no need for secrets. I have my dignity which is all I thought I wanted, but this is barely an existence. I wonder if maybe we have taken two steps back.

In an effort to keep it real and focused I feel the need to mark our morbid little anniversary. July 8th, the day my heart truly broke in half. I wonder if he remembers the date? Probably not. It was probably just a blur to him. But to me it was, for a moment in time, the moment that redefined my life.

I'm not sure if this calls for a celebratory card or a sympathetic one. Only time will tell. But I think there will be chocolate and alcohol involved.

CON-GRADUATION REBECCA!

2010-05-21T23:37:00.000-06:00

Becca graduated from Mesa Ridge on May 2010. She played her violin with the Orchestra for the last time during the ceremony. I almost didn't cry.

The next day she and about 50 of her friends, including Art's Pink Haired Girlfriend who graduated with her, celebrated at the house with 50 cans of shaving cream and 6 cases of soda pop. I thought for sure that after a few hours the group would settle down and maybe thin out. The party lasted 7 hours and ended up on the patio with s'mores and the hot tub. By the time the last teenager got out of the hot tub the water level was down by 10 inches and a thick layer of shaving cream scum bubbled like a pale oil slick.

Amazingly, despite the diverse personalities and lifestyles, there was no drama, no fights (other than the sponsored and supervised shaving cream fight), and no drugs or alcohol. Just 7 hours of good clean fun.

That's not entirely true. The house is trashed, and Becca had another party today so she didn't clean up like she had promised. Well, guess what, she graduated from high school, not from house work. She can clean up tomorrow.

Tomorrow I am going to look at a one room bunk house on a ranch about 20 minutes from here. Supposedly it's one of the property's original buildings, which means its as old as dirt and is actually built into a hillside. In less than 12 hours I might be walking through the doorway of my future home.

Dickidoo found this place for me and is going with me to the walk-through in the morning. He might just be trying to get me out of the way quicker but I don't care. I'm so excited I could pee!

HERE COMES SUMMER

2010-05-01T10:30:00.001-06:00

Summer is almost upon us and yet I am not over come with the sense of dread I used to experience when the kids were younger. Gabe is never home. Zack is yak wrangling and pig corralling in New York. Art is getting ready to take off to Oregon for the summer and Becca has already begun the process for joining the Air Force after graduation. That leaves Rocky, who is also never home.

Which leaves me home with Shithound and Stupid Cat. Not cool!

I'm leaving for Georgia in a week or so for a partial Family Reunion. I'm so excited. After the cancellation of the planned Reunion I was to host this summer it wasn't certain when we could all get together. Big Sisters and Brothers in Law put their heads together, got the gears in motion and now 4 of the 6 siblings will be at my sister's house to enjoy our parents' company. Of course I will be fashionably late, but they've come to expect that of me. (Thanks to everyone who made this possible.)

And what of the rest of the summer, besides shithound and stupid cat sitting? My #1 goal is to have a Bachelorette pad in full swing by my birthday. I don't know who's more excited, me or Dickidoo. I wonder if he'll notice if I take the bed...

TESTING...

2010-04-18T10:35:00.001-06:00

My neat-o-wow cell phone is also a teenie, tiny computer without the headaches. It comes with all kinds of applications like a flashlight, a lighter with flame (for concerts don't ya know!), a scrolling banner, a dating advice service, and yes... a blogging service. So here I am trying it out. I'll warn you now, there is no spell check on this thing.
My banner is currently bright yellow with big black scrolling letters that spell out "You're jealous!" I like to flash it at Dickidoo whose phone probably has bigger and better apps, he just doesn't know how to use them.
Well, enough about my phone, lets see if this thing works.

Kids... can't live with them and can't live with them! (nope, that's not a typo!)

2010-04-18T10:23:00.000-06:00

All my kids lives I've been waiting for them to grow up and become self sufficient so that I could maybe have some kind of peace while at home and in their presence. I provided them with cell phones to keep tabs on them so that I can have peace of mind when they are not in my presence.

Sucker!

Now they phone and text me constantly when we're apart and are like talking fly paper when we're together. Very little has changed from the days when I would hide in the bathroom only to be followed with little fingers wiggling from under the door as inquisitive voices demanded to know what I was doing.

For the past 25 years I've not had a moment's peace.

Little by little though the flock is leaving the nest and flying away. By the end of the year it could very well just be one fledging spawn remaining. I'm looking forward to the empty nest and setting off on my own but that will happen in it's own good time. For now, I revel in their company, as irritating as it can be sometimes.

I could use a little less of the guilt trip phone calls though. Seriously Rocky, you will not freeze to death on the 1/2 mile walk home from school. And why don't you try calling your dad's cell phone for a change huh? You're 50% his fault too!

Good grief!

COFFEE 911

2010-03-08T09:33:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago I woke to the smell of dirty socks and slobbery dog, common scents in my house but usually masked in the morning by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. On that particular morning it was just the lingering odor of a right sided ghost sock and the shithound's drool. That was when I remembered what I had forgotten to remember the day before.

Buy more coffee!

Crap... I mean, shit! I mean, suffering succotash. No... DAMMIT, and I mean DAMMIT!

I could already see how my day was shaping up and it was not promising. A quick stop at 711 took care of my immediate need and then a trip to The Store filled up the long term need.

What awaited me in the mailbox later that day though would make my day. A small box, addressed to me in tiny print beckoned me to open it. I tore it open and was delighted to hold in my hands... a coffee emergency kit, a bag containing several packets of coffee grounds of various flavors (no decaf!) with the instructions:
Open kit.
Cure coffee Jones.
Replace usage.
Close kit until next emergency.

Gonna make a few emergency kits to pass out to some of my equally disorganized coffee ~~fiends~~ friends. I know they'll appreciate it just as much as I. Nothing is worse than a coffee addict going through withdrawals!My brother-in-law is like my personal FEMA. It's so nice to be loved. Either that or he's tired of hearing me whine about running out of coffee all the time. What ever the case may be, it worked and peace is once again restored to the galaxy. Thanks K. I am now prepared.

Confessions of a Reluctant Hypochondriac.

2010-03-01T11:16:00.000-07:00

Last week, after I slipped on the ice and landed on my back, I made light of my injuries but in reality I was scared shitless. I remember one foot slipping out from under me and thinking "Crap, there goes my other knee!" because just days earlier I slipped on another patch of ice by the ponds and came down hard on my right knee. But this time, even as I tried to regain my balance I could feel my other foot slipping as well. Swoosh! Nothing but air! I don't know what hit first, my butt, my hands or my head. I closed my eyes as if by doing so I could soften the landing. It did not work.

I didn't feel pain so much as I felt the force... a powerful energy that sucked the air out of my lungs... and I remember hearing a strange sound, like something solid hitting the concrete. That would be my head. My body instantly tensed into a ball although in reality I was sprawled out on the ground, face up. The dog began jumping on me.

Lassie would have gotten the neighbors to help me. Jubilee just wanted to play. Stupid dog!

I rolled over to protect my skull from further pounding as the bassett hound bounced on me. I opened my eyes, half expecting to see blood and brains spilled out on the ice but the ground was bare except for a dusting of snow over the ice. I laid on my belly, feeling the ice melt below me, for what seemed like ages. I wished Jubilee would get Lassie, who I knew would get me help. I just knew I was going to die out there on the ice.

I didn't feel real pain until I tried to stand up. It felt like talons were digging into my lower spine and pulling me down. I knew that pain, I had felt it before after an accident at the ice skating rink when I was a teenager.

I had busted my butt... again.

The bump on my head was immediate, and it was alarming. It filled my cupped hand. The part of my brain that was not still in shock from the blow was horrified yet amazed by the size of the bump, which was steadily growing. In automation I went around to the car, picked up Art's Pink Haired Girlfriend, drove her to school and drove back home. By then the goose egg had developed into an ostrich egg and I was concerned.

So I googled 'concussion', certain that was what I was suffering from. For the rest of the day I barely moved, getting up only to use the bathroom and examine my pupils. I listened for ringing in my ears. Was I nauseous or just hungry? Were those stars floating across my vision or just dust in the air? Was I going into shock or having a seizure or was it just cold? I had taken 3 asprin before my slip... was I now bleeding out in my brain?

In all seriousness I did, at one point, entertain the idea that I could be dying. I had no 'near death' or out of body experience. I didn't see the 'light' and my life didn't flash before my eyes but in a moment of clarity I acknowledged the fact that I could actually be living my last moments of life on this earth.

A check list went through my still rattled mind... did everyone who needed to know that I loved them actually know without a doubt that I loved them? Check. Were my bills up to date? Kind of check, nothing that my current paycheck couldn't handle. Life insurance? Check. Will? Check. Clean underwear? Check.

What snapped me out of it was the realization that I had a ton of dirty laundry in my room. I couldn't die and leave someone else to sort through my dirty laundry. I had a bunch of raunchy socks and some not so clean undies that I could never RIP knowing that someone else had to touch them.

So while my butt still hurts and my head looks like a deformed conehead, I am alive. And I won't be dying any time soon, because I still haven't gotten to that pile of laundry in my room.

CACTH OF THE DAY~

2010-02-17T12:15:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when you leave someone who spells with a lisp in charge of the bill board. Most passers by don't cacth the mistake because their brains automatically correct and process the word without them even realizing the error. I was able to cacth it because I'm anal. Ironically I am a lousy speller.

COUNT DOWN TO 'ME'

2010-02-03T12:52:00.003-07:00

I've got all kinds of count downs ticking in my head, my 26th Wedding Anniversary, which is also my unofficial 1st Un-Anniversary, or what ever they're calling it, there's my 50th birthday, my LAST cycle (woo hoo), and somewhere down the line in the not so distant future although no definite date has been set, is my divorce.

If someone were to tell me a year ago that I would be writing that opening paragraph I would have laughed, but it's not so funny in the here and now.

What also looms ahead is the steady decline of residents in the house. Zack is still in New York. That is just a temporary thing but I'm not so sure he'll be moving back here when the time comes. Gabe is barely ever here. Art is planning on moving out in the summer, and Becca is making plans to share an apartment with her friend after Graduation. That leaves Rocky.

Oh yeah, and the shit-hound. And of course Henry the homicidal goldfish.

And then what? Now that the shock has worn off I can honestly say that I am actually excited about the new opportunities opening up to me. Do I want to pursue my passion for the culinary arts or take a course in photography? Do I want to learn the skills to present my literary aspirations or dare I follow my dreams and just point my nose forward, going where ever it leads me?

I'm like a kid in a candy store, I want it all!

Realistically all this didn't become available to me because of my divorce and the kids moving out, I was just forced to focused on the fact that there will come a time when everyone is gone and I will be on my own. What will I do with myself then? Fact: there is life after family, and it keeps on evolving with the changing times. Fact: 50 is not too old to enjoy life or learn something new.

Eek! (screech to a halt).

But what about, you know, love... Is it necessary? Not the love of a family, I'm confident that I will always have that. I'm talking the romantic stuff. Do I really need that? I know I thrived on it when I had it, I know I miss it now that I've lost it, but do I need it to enjoy the rest of my life?

Yeah, well, I don't know. Let's just go with 'NO' and see what happens.

But just in case, I'll keep shaving my pits and legs cos you just never know...

Finally, a real bed... sort of.

2010-01-25T10:31:00.003-07:00

I have finally gotten my bed set up, a different mattress, on a box spring and on a frame. The frame is a little bit too large for the box spring, which was discovered early on when I jumped on my bed for the first time in celebration and both mattresses... with me on top, dropped to the floor through the frame like a trap door. Just as well it's a twin bed, it's not very motion-friendly. So long as I don't move, and keep my breathing to a minimum, I should be okay. One thing's for sure, there will be no hanky panky going on here! Other than that the bed is very comfortable.

It's not my job!

2010-01-14T10:51:00.002-07:00

I was walking through a multi-million dollar store the other day and on it's high polished floors, under a clothing rack that sported shirts more expensive than I could ever afford until next season when they show up on the racks of my favorite Thrift Store, was a dust bunny almost as big as my cat. There is a whole battalion of men who come into this store each night to tidy it up for the next business day. They are paid to do the floors, nothing else; just sweep, dust, mop and wax, and yet this small Army of men missed an 8 inch dust bunny? Perhaps it's petty on my part, but suddenly I don't feel so bad about my own house. If a whole cleaning crew can spend 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week on nothing but cleaning and they still can't get it all, then how can anyone reasonably expect one woman, in between her own 8 hour job and all the fun things that come along with raising a family of teenagers, a cat and dog to have an immaculate house?

I rest my case.

Deserprate Times or Green Coffee...

2010-01-03T10:14:00.004-07:00

It's just 3 days in to the new year and I'm already out of coffee. I almost made a resolution never to run out of coffee... Good thing I didn't because it would really be a bad omen to fail your resolution after just 3 days. Or maybe I would have planned ahead so I wouldn't run out of coffee grounds...

Technically I didn't run out of coffee grounds. I had 4 scoops in the canister, but it was too cold to run to the store and buy some more, and I had 5 scoops of once-used grounds still in the filter in my Bunn-Omatic Brew-Omatic from yesterday... so I just reused a scoop or two.

And what a perfect pot of coffee it made! And it's earth friendly too!

END OF THE YEAR CELEBRATION!

2009-12-31T18:03:00.003-07:00

Santa came back to town and took me to Best Buy this afternoon for my late Christmas/ early Birthday present... a new Nikon. Then the Jolly Ol' Elf took Art and me to Famous Dave's BBQ where we enjoyed our last meal of the year... 4 different types of barbecue served on a trash can lid. Let me tell you, that food was soooo good, there was no place in the whole world I would rather have been at that time than right there eating off of that trash can lid! Pulled pork, brisket, ribs and chicken, with corn muffins, potato wedges, corn on the cob, cole slaw and baked beans. What a way to end the year. Seriously! I was so excited about my new camera, which I took into the restaurant with me, but I put it down long enough to absolutely pig out on bbq!

The after shot of the meal wasn't pretty. I still can't believe how much I ate. Even more unbelievable still is the fact that we actually had left overs and brought home a doggy bag! I know what my first meal for the new year will be... Yay!

Now, back to the camera... I can't tell you how depressing it was to work with my old faithful second hand Nikon, knowing that it was slowly dying. Well, not really dying, but it's auto focus motor is burning out. With my eye sight being as lousy as it is I rely heavily on the auto focus although I do most of the other settings manually so it was frustrating to say the least to have to manually focus my shots only to find out later that most of them out of focus. The new camera, a D5000, isn't a heavy duty camera like it's bigger cousins the D80, D90 or my dream camera the D2, but it is amazing and has so many cool little bells and whistles... like a tilt screen and video! But most of all it has a working auto focus. Yay²!

It was dark by the time I was able to get it outside to play and the battery only had a factory charge so I wasn't able to really mess around like I would have liked to. I do know that I love the camera and I hate that I have to go in to work tomorrow because there is nothing I would like better than to just play with the camera and all it's cool settings all day long!

Warning: heavy photo swarming may follow!

Happy New Year to all of my wonderful friends and family.

Thank you Santa, you rock!

Once upon a time...

2009-12-28T11:16:00.005-07:00

The year is almost over and I find myself reflecting on the past months in a daze. For once I don't find myself wondering 'Where the hell did the time go?' For once I actually know where the hell time went... away! It went away so quickly that I am still reeling and gasping for breath. Forget trying to comprehend what has happened, I'm just happy knowing that something has happened and that the 12 months, the 365 days or 8760 hours have not been in vain.

Have those days been spent the way I wanted, not necessarily, but they have not been entirely wasted. A little 'pro-action' mixed with the standard and sometimes deperate 'reaction' has kept me some what balanced and moving in a forward direction. Life handed me lemons and I made lemonade. Life handed me limes and I made a margarita. Life took away my fruit and I drank my tequila straight. Then, as if that wasn't fun enough already... life changed the ending on my fairy tale leaving me to come up with an alternate ending. That is proving to be a bit challenging but not impossible.

So what now? How should the next chapter of my life go? My resolution; not just for the coming year but for the years to come... is to be an independent person. I don't want to settle for 'good enough'. I want the clarity to set a goal and the determination to achieve it. I want the ability to stay on the path but the vision to see beyond it. Most of all I want the strength to be myself and not become some bitter old woman with a closed heart and mind.

I will not settle for less than 'happily ever after'.

CHRISTMAS 2009

2009-12-25T15:58:00.002-07:00

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen. Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. And of course Rudolph. But don't forget the cutest reindeer of all ~ Jubilee!
Merry Christmas from the House of Oompa.

Dust Bunny Tip of the Day

2009-12-06T11:46:00.000-07:00

I have always said that you can't believe everything you read on the internet to be true. I base this on the fact that Al Gore invented the internet and I don't believe everything that Al Gore says. So when I get e-mails with amazing tips and stories I tend to be on the skeptical side. Sometimes, however, something will catch my attention and I will test it out.

I recently got a million times forwarded and reforwarded e-mail from my brother-in-law/friend (how cool that he can be both!). Anyhow this particular e-mail contained several useful tips for around the house. The one that really grabbed my eye though was the one about using hair conditioner as shaving gel.

Being as we always buy conditioner AND shampoo, but the shampoo runs out faster, we always have left over conditioner, and if we buy a different brand of shampoo or even the same brand but a different fragrance... goodness knows you can't mix and match the conditioner! So we have all this extra conditioner that is just building up in the shower.

The downstairs shower that is. Not the upstairs shower where I was when I decided to test out this helpful household tip. The only condition in the upstairs shower was a bottle of Head and Shoulders Conditioner bought by accident instead of the shampoo.

But it was conditioner none the less so I squirted a handful onto my palm and smeared it all over my leg. I scraped my razor up, down and around my legs. I even did my pits and panty line. And then for the test.

Silky smooth!

And now I can wear black without worrying about embarrassing flakes of dandruff showing up on my pants, shirts and panties!

So, this is proof that not all internet stories are false. Try some out, you really might be surprised! I know I was, and I absolutely love this particular shaving tip.

The end of a dream...

2009-12-01T11:09:00.001-07:00

My Broncos have regained their composure and are back in the running for the Wild Card. Dickidoo's Steelers are still stumbling. Although Pittsburgh won against the Broncos, karma is paying off and they trail Denver in wins. Their past record is indisputably impressive but lets face it, the Broncos are the better team this year. Or maybe they've just played the worst teams so far... either way they have a better record thus far. But Dickidoo has to crow about something and he's found a doozie.

Did you know that Howie Long was a Raider? I did not. Did you know that I hate the Raiders with a fiery passion with the exception of Lyle Alzado who was my favorite player when I first started watching football way back in the day... it broke my heart when he died. In my defense Alzado was also a Bronco at one time, although it was long before I became a Bronco fan. It was just meant to be...

So anyhow the other night after Sunday Night Football Dickidoo and I were watching the Post Game show and Howie, my favorite commentator was talking. Suddenly it dawned on me that I had no idea what team Howie had played for so silly me asked Dickidoo. The only thing he knew for sure was that Howie was not a former Steeler so he googled 'Howie Long'. His laugh was long and evil.

Howie was a Raider!

To say that I was devastated would be an understatement. I was and still am totally disillusioned. I cannot even watch those Chevy Truck commercials any more without hanging my head in utter disbelief. It's a feeling that can only be described as what a child might feel when he finds out that his parents are really Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny as well!

Dickidoo has offered to buy me a Howie team jersey. He has never offered to buy me a Bronco jersey, not Henry or Bailey, Marshall or Elway, but he really wants to buy me a Howie Long Raider jersey. What a sweetheart!

I suppose I probably shouldn't have hung Pittsburgh Pete over the toilet during the game huh?

Howie... a Raider?! Life is so cruel! I'm going to wake up and it will all have been a nightmare. When I google 'Howie Long', he will show up as a Bronco.

Or not...(sigh)

THERE'S JUST NO PLEASING ME

2009-11-18T14:31:00.000-07:00

I have to say... my new work schedule isn't very family friendly. I start too early in the day to do anything before work. I don't have enough time to cook supper before I leave so the family has been eating bachelor food for the past week. I get off too late to do anything after work. I work straight through the weekend. I have no social life.

On the plus side I actually get to say good-night the kids as I walk in the house and pass them on their way to bed. You'd think that the current situation with it's time constraints would get me off the hook for fight mediations and general nagging.

Nope, that's what text messaging cell phones are for!

Shhhh...

2009-11-13T11:48:00.002-07:00

Did you hear that?

That was the sound of me snapping out of it.

I giggled yesterday. I actually 'giggled'. Girls giggle, not 49 year old grandmothers. But I giggled, and it felt good, and I didn't care who heard or saw me giggle because it felt that good. It was as if I had opened up a box stashed away in the corners of my memories and found a long forgotten treasure. I lifted it up, shook it out and tried it on, and it still fit! I looked in the mirror and I saw it...

A smile that reached my eyes.

Silly girl! Hehehehe!

No, I'm not drunk. I'm alive!

Lessons learned

2009-11-10T12:55:00.002-07:00

I sneaked into my old room last night after the game, shooting Dickidoo a message warning him of my presence so he wouldn't think I was some intruder who had hidden in his bed while he was at the game.

'Possession is 9/10th of the law,' I texted as I burrowed deep into the fluffy softness that I once took for granted. Despite the disappointment of my team losing to his team, sleep came easy. I was awakened some time later by his voice.

'Does this mean I have to sleep on the couch?'

'No, but you can if you want to.' I replied. I waited for the goading, the heckling and harrassment that I certainly would have dished out had the Broncos won... but he merely commented on the good game, fussed about parking and was snoring within minutes. Just like the old days, I thought before my snoring joined in the chorus. Dang, I miss that bed.

I'm looking at life differently now days. It's not so complicated any more. Happiness is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ecstasy is two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Friends and family think I need a guy in my life to be happy. Why? I've got a fresh loaf of bread, a jar of Skippy and some blackberry jam. I'm good!

The moral of this story is: Enjoy life's simple pleasures, don't take anything (especially your mattress) for granted, and NEVER let me babysit your mascot when your team is playing my team and you go to the game without me!

Disclaimer: Gno gnomes were harmed during the making of this or the previous post.

Jealous, who, me?

2009-11-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

Dickidoo's friend gave him a ticket for tonight's game~ Broncos vs. Steelers at Invesco Field in Denver.

'Sorry, I wish there was another ticket for you.' he said.

(Yeah, right, I'll bet you do!)

But he didn't call to brag. He called to ask me to pick the ticket up for him.

Say what?

Yeah, okay, I can do that. And I can even babysit Pittsburgh Pete, the Garden Gnome for you while you're at the game. Don't worry, he'll be safe with me! I'll take good care of him!

RESURRECTION

2009-11-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

resurrection: (n) 1.The act of rising from the dead or returning to life.
2.The state of one who has returned to life.

I had a nasty bug this weekend. No, it wasn't H1N1 or the Swine flu. No fever was involved, and no coughing or head aches. Just gosh awful cramping, nausea and a whole lot of running to the bathroom.

Art: Hey mom, what's the past tense for 'When Pigs Fly'?
Me: I haven't a clue.
Art: Swine flu.... Pigs fly, swine flew... get it?
Me: Grrrrrrrrr!

We ran out of Immodium AD (wonderful little pill, works wonders and so easy to swallow because it's so tiny!) so I started popping Peptol Bismol caplets. By the end of my illness I had taken so many of those pink pills that I half expected to be ... well, you know... doing it in pink!

'Actually the ingredients in Peptol Bismol would turn it white,' Rocky's adorable Cello Playing Boyfriend informed me. Simply adorable. See why he fits in so well with our family?

The house is a mess. Dickidoo has been gone all week so I can't blame it on him. The Oompas are all teenagers and insist that they clean up their own mess (when did they start doing that? It must be a new thing), and I've been way too sick to do anything let alone wreck the entire house. I guess that leaves the pets.

I know for a fact that the shit-hound unstuffed the sofa cushion and that the cat helped to distribute the stuffing through out the house. There is evidence of trash can raids in the kitchen, bathroom and all remaining corners of the upper level. The goldfish glare accusingly every time the cat and dog enter the foyer where the tank sits. Henry the homicidal goldfish waits, his little goldfish cheeks fully loaded with stinky tank water, poised to shoot if the cat even so much as thinks about jumping on the aquarium to knock down the fish food for the dog to chew open. The stairs leading to the lower level of the house still bear proof of the last such conspiracy.

Yes, it is quite possible that the cat and dog actually did trash the house without help from the Oompas. It probably took them just a few minutes to do so. It will probably take me all afternoon to clean it up. (Art, a little help here? I think you owe me after that swine flew joke.)

And I wanted a cat and a dog... why?

Note to self: next time I decide to get a stomach bug and die for a few days, send the critters to a kennel. This is just crazy!

But other than that, I feel mah-valous!

Man-Camp

2009-10-30T14:23:00.000-06:00

Dickidoo is going hunting with his buddies for a week. Elk camp, deer camp, man camp... they can call it what they want. I call it what it is.

Vacation! Woo Hoo! And I get the queen sized Serta for a week!

I've been cooking and freezing like a crazy woman to show my appreciation. Elk chili. Elk-a-roni. Elk stew. Tomorrow I'll whip up a batch of elk curry. If nothing else those guys are going to be eating good. Or... they'll be so sick and tired of eating elk that they won't even bother to take a shot when one walks by them.

I got a scary email from my Baby Sister yesterday. She's recently been diagnosed with some kind of spinal disease that may require surgery. In the mean time she's popping 18 pills daily to deal with the pain. 18 pills? I couldn't imagine it. I couldn't even manage popping a birth control pill once a day thus the 5 Oompas, so there is no way I could do 18 pills. With surgery there is always the risk of paralysis but she is young and strong. She's scared but she'll never let something like this slow her down.

And here I am belly aching about how bad my love life is. All of a sudden my problems all seem so insignificant. I really have it easy.

Last night Rocky's boyfriend told me that he thought she was mad at him. She later told me that she thought he was mad at her. I told her that they were both over reacting to something silly. All they needed was to be a little more sensitive to each other's feelings and learn to let silly little things go.

Even as I was saying those words I realized that it was probably the best advice I could ever give myself.

"Be more sensitive to each others feelings and learn to let the silly little things go."

(Yeah, okay, fine! But I still get to decide what is silly and what is not!)

I should probably make the guys some cookies or something sweet like that. I don't want them to get hungry and have to pack up and come in early. Maybe some brownies, and I'll get them some hot cocoa mix. And lots of toilet paper, enough for a couple weeks just in case they should get snowed in or something equally wonderful like that. Yeah, that sounds like a plan!

Pride Of Mesa Ridge

2009-10-26T10:19:00.000-06:00

The High School Marching Band season ended on Saturday, highlighted by the State Championships. Becca's participation this year marked her 4th and final year in the Color Guard. She was the only 4 year Guard member and for that accomplishment she was given the honor of carrying the American flag during the retreat at the end of the night. This is only Rocky's 2nd year but she is as dedicated as her sister. Rocky may be one of the tiniest members of the band but she has big ambition and she absolutely ROCKS! Last year the Pride of Mesa Ridge took 5th Place in the State Finals. This year they placed 4th. Way to go Oompas! Way to go Mesa Ridge!

And now... back to our regularily scheduled programming.

2009-10-22T11:00:00.000-06:00

Zack left for New York this morning. He's going to try his hand at yak wrangling at my sister and brother-in-law's farm. He's been looking forward to it ever since they accepted his offer to work there for room and board... and the opportunity to mess around with the welder, and maybe the tractor or other large machinery. I'd rather see him in a regular paying job, but this is a wonderful opportunity for him to gain some new experience and it certainly will be helpful for his aunt and uncle to have the extra help during the winter now that all of their own children have moved away. Poor Val, just when she got rid of her last child I start sending her mine! What a brilliant concept, I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner! (kidding Val, just kick him out and send him back here if he gets too much for you.)

"I think you'll have fun, except maybe for the mud and poop which all kind of looks the same there." I told Zack before he left this morning.

I sure am going to miss his intellectual banter. I am not going to miss trying to get him to share my computer with the rest of the family. He's hooked on Bejeweled and can play for hours! I think he was trying to get in as many games as he could before he left because he won't have unlimited access to a computer once he gets to the farm. Poor guy's going to go into Bejeweled withdrawals. Game over!

And how about them Broncos?! 6 and 0, yeah! As for the Steelers... the Super Bowl ~~Chumps~~ Champs, they're 4 and 2. Awwwww, what's the matter with your team Dickidoo? Maybe they're just too old for the game. 6 championships is a good legacy but it's time to let a younger... BETTER team take over! Go Broncos!

ps: 64 days until Christmas! Ho Ho Ho!

A huntin' we will go... 2009. (edited)

2009-10-20T13:59:00.001-06:00

With the change in my current lifestyle it is safe to assume that this fall would be my last season for hunting. With that in mind I was determined to fill the freezer one last time, to prove my worth as a provider for the family.

My friends all thought Dickidoo was either very trusting or very stupid for going out in the wilderness alone with me... with a loaded rifle, and for good reason because for the first time in our 25 plus years of marriage he is actually worth more to me dead than alive. But with kids like ours, even as old as they are, I don't relish the thought of being a single parent and it suits me to be able to say 'Go ask your father!'

Preparation is a ritual. I washed my camo and blaze orange gear in hunting soap... which smelled like dirt. I then showered with soap and shampoo that also smelled like dirt. (I suspect it is so difficult for hunters to spot elk during the season because the elk can spot hunters from miles away... we all look like big fat blaze orange pumpkins and smell like dirt!) At o'dark hundred we were up and out in search of the elusive bull elk.

Dickidoo had the perfect spot in mind. We arrived early, got set up and waited. We weren't the only hunters in the area but that was okay, we didn't mind sharing. Too bad the other hunters didn't feel the same way. They didn't think twice about talking loudly, walking around us and then walking right through the field in front of us. Jerks!

It was pretty obvious that we were in the wrong place at the wrong time so we began to look for signs and tracks. 'Signs' in hunting speak is 'shit'.

Deer shit, elk shit,

Oh shit, bear shit!

Dickidoo knew where the elk would pass through so we set up a make shift blind. If the elk showed up as planned I would be filling the freezer. Unfortunately a couple of helicopters doing low altitude maneuvers decided our little area was the perfect area to train. "We appreciate your service guys, but seriously, go away!" Of course, they did not. They circled until all of the animals in the state of Colorado had migrated at full speed to Kansas. Not cool!

Time for Plan B (or was it Plan C?).

Plan B incorporated the assistance of Dickidoo's friend who was hunting up the way who would be in communication with us via a two way radio if he happened to see anything moving in our direction. There's nothing that makes one lose the urgency for relieving one's self in the woods than the thought of some guy with high powered binoculars up the hill behind you and some guy with his son scouting around in front of you. I had to go soooooo bad that I thought I would pop, but there was no way I was baring my full moons with that much traffic all around!

Day one was what I call a 'Murphy's Hunt', when anything that could go wrong did go wrong. Day two could only get better, right?
Not so much.... There was no fresh sign anywhere, except for bear scat. And let me tell you something about hunting in Colorado. Colorado is in the Rocky Mountains. 'Mountain' is another word for 'up'. In Colorado everything is up. Even down is up. To get to the top of a mountain you must go up. To get back down you still must go up. And no matter how up you are, there is still upper and then it's all uphill from there!

I don't like up. I really don't.

So when Dickioo suggested that we wait in a nice little scrub oak hollow looking out over a meadow, with very little up involved, I was ecstatic. We visited the grave site of an 8 year old boy who died in 1886. Dickidoo affectionately calls him 'Jimmy'. We would be hunting in Jimmy's meadow. Dickidoo is a spiritual hunter. He asked for Jimmy's permission and then he asked for Jimmy's blessing. I had a hunting prayer that I whispered over and over. 'Let me be swift and sure.'

It was almost sundown when Dickidoo spotted the antlers among the scrub oaks. He followed their progress patiently through his binoculars. I sat by impatiently, waiting for a glimpse of the big bull Dickidoo promised was coming. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the bull crested the hill.
It was a decent sized elk although not so much wide as tall... I admitted aloud. My future ex gave me an 'are you fricken kidding?' look. He uses that look on me a lot although I'm not exactly sure why.

Steve jumped into gear and began a new plan of action. The bull had disappeared behind a dam with 3 possible exit routes. We moved into place... and waited. And waited. And waited.
It was almost sun down. I was running out of time so we began to run as quietly as we could through the cactus minefield to peer over the dam and possibly spot the bull. Just as I got to the base of the dam Dickidoo hissed for me to look to the left. I turned right and only saw my husband's excited face. 'Left, left!' he hissed again, running over. I peered over his shoulder and he grabbed me by mine.
'Your other left!' he growled, physically turning me to my left, and then I saw it standing just 100 yards away. It was a picture perfect pose, broadside and motionless. Not so much wide as tall. I dropped to one knee, took aim and squeezed the trigger.

It was a picture perfect miss. How could I miss at 100 yards? I'm dead on at 300! I quickly reloaded and shot again and this time hit my target. The bull spun and took off back behind the dam. Dickidoo grinned and congratulated me but I was worried because I could no longer see the elk. A few moments later we spotted the him laying down near a pinon tree not far way. It jumped up and took off again, disappearing near the tree line just off to our right (the right right, not my left right). It was getting dark. Dickidoo left to get the truck and I waited, listening for any sign that the elk was leaving the wooded area we had seen it enter, hoping that it had bedded down. Aside from the wind and my constant prayer it was silent.

'Swift and sure, please don't let this life have been in vain.'

Dickidoo returned a short time later with a couple of friends to help track and retrieve the elk. In the dark it was almost impossible to find any tracks or blood trail but these guys are good. Dickidoo found two small drops of blood, nothing more, and there were no fresh tracks. It was as if the elk had been walking on air... or tippie toe as I suggested. Steve's friend was the one who found the bull, tucked in next to a pinon just 100 yards from where we last saw it. The guys told me where to place the final shot and it was over.

Some people think hunting is cruel. I respect their stance. I, however, hunt without regret or remorse. I hunt for food. I will get about 400 pounds of meat from the bull. That will feed my family for many months, and it sure beats hotdogs!

The bull, which I refer to as Jimmy's Bull, weighed about 700 pounds on the hoof and carried a 6X6 rack that the guys are guestimating will score over 300 in the Boone and Crocket thingie, which means nothing to me but Dickidoo insists that it's 'one fricken big bull!'

We have a standing rule in our family... 'You kill it, you clean it.' I started that when Dickidoo used to bring home fish for me to gut (yuck!). It sounded good at the time... until I began hunting. After my first kill I had to gut my own kills. Dickidoo was in a good mood though (or maybe he realized that it would take me 4 times as long to do something that would only take him 20 minutes to do), and he offered to field dress the bull. I weenied out and jumped at his offer. Hey, I may not be able to tell my left from my right, but I'm not entirely stupid! (Thanks Steve!)

Not only did he clean the elk for me, he also took it to a butcher to process the meat so I didn't have cut and wrap the meat myself, and he's having the antlers mounted (European mount.... I won't have room in my future home for half an elk to hang on my wall.)

While this was quite possibly my last hunt with Dickidoo, it was probably my best hunt ever. Nothing but good memories. Murphy's Hunt... anything that could go wrong did go wrong, but it ended up perfect. It was the hunt of a life time with the bull of a life time, (although not so much wide as tall)

Thank God, thanks to the Spirit of the Elk, Thank you Jimmy. Thanks Dickidoo, that was amazing!

Edit 10/21/09: Dickidoo suggested that I rename the bull 'Jimmy's Bull' in honor of Jimmy McGlothlin (January 10, 1878 - October 3, 1886) whose spirit watched over us that afternoon. In actuality it wasn't a "Murphy's Law" kind of hunt at all. It was a "Jimmy's Law" hunt, when everything that could go right did go right.

Mantra (if you say something often enough you're bound to believe it eventually)

2009-10-13T11:36:00.000-06:00

Ahhhhh-tumn lasted all of 5 minutes in Colorado. It is now winter. Winter for me has always been cold, crisp mornings when you can see your breath, sunlight reflecting off of diamond tipped snowflakes and a crackling fire in the fireplace at night as the family sits around reminiscing about winters past.

Although the mountains are capped in white, the snow has yet to stick down here in the foothills. The chimney remains clear, the hearth is cold and dark. Everything is different now. Everything has changed. The family is split in different directions as all growing families do but I fear that the bridges we cross are being burned behind us. Sometimes I ponder the classification of 'family' and wonder if we even qualify any more. Life has become a mosaic of technicalities.

I am, therefore I am.

I miss the sentimentalities of the past. I miss laughter that comes from the heart and reaches the eyes. I miss spontaneous hugs and holding hands. I miss the comfort that comes with naivety and the peace of innocence. I wonder where I went wrong. Did I zig when I should have zagged?

My daughter quoted me the other day... 'No regrets,' she said, mimicking my voice as she repeated my mantra.

No regrets. That thought has kept me from drowning in self pity many times during my 49 years on this earth. If I had zagged instead of zigging... where would I be today? What of my life now would I have achieved? What pain would I have avoiding, what joy would I have missed?

No regrets indeed. (thanks Baby)

It is a good motto, but now a new thought enters my mind. One day, when I look back upon these events, what will be my take-away, my silver lining? What positive thing will emerge from these past few months to make me believe without conviction that I have no regrets? Try as I might I cannot think of anything right now... I haven't a clue, but experience has proven that there is always something if one is willing to step back and look at the big picture so I shall keep my eyes and mind open to the possibilities.

I still miss the way we used to be... and but it was all just a part of the path we took which has led us to where we are today. What now?

I guess a nice fire in the fireplace is as good a place as any to start.

Brrrrr.... (but in a good way)

2009-10-08T11:28:00.000-06:00

Baby, it's cold outside....

In fact it's down right nipply! I love it! It tried to snow earlier. The heavy snowflakes melted just before they hit the ground. The sky remains grey and over cast. My nose sniffs in anticipation, searching for the scent of a crackling fire in the the fireplace; steaming cocoa laced with peppermint; and pine.

78 days until Christmas!

Something to smile about...

2009-10-02T08:25:00.002-06:00

After months of procrastination the boys have finally begun to pull up the carpeting in the upper level of the house, revealing what promises to be a beautiful blond hardwood floor beneath. I find myself pacing barefoot on the unfinished floor with the same enthusiasm I experience when walking barefoot on a wave dampened sandy beach. If my feet had lips they'd be smiling. My face does have lips, and believe me, it's smiling from ear to ear. Thanks guys, but don't stop now, you still have the rest of the house to do!

We celebrated Becca's birthday a couple days early since she and Rocky will be at a Marching Band competition on Saturday. The boys have always seemed ageless to me, with their easy tempers and laid back attitude. The girls are more emotional and every day is a major, dramatic occurrence of one sort or another. Is Becca really going to be 18? Did Rocky really just turn 15? It feels like they should be older, like maybe 30 and 25. When the boys were little I could get away with answering the question 'Why?' with 'Because I said so, that's why!', and that was good enough. I never even heard the phrase 'But Mom....' until the girls came along. It would be very easy to assume that it is a girl thing, but I was once a girl, and I know for a fact I was never EVER that bad. (Save it Mom and Dad, nobody would believe you if you were to disagreed with me here!)

My big sisters have been nagging me about getting some of my scenic pictures up. I kind of lost my enthusiasm for photography when my camera crapped out on me and Dickidoo proved to be very reluctant to let me borrow his. My second hand camera has issues that kind of take the fun out of photography, but in the end my thirst for preserving the beauty of the world as I see it took over and I'm back behind the lens, snapping like a crazy woman. I have, however, decided to retire my old photo blog 'Through the eyes of the Beholder', and feature my new photos in a different blog, one I started in 2007 to feature some of my favorite photos but kind of lost interest when my camera died. It's a different format, the photos are really large, and some of the files have been X'd out (I might be able to fix them once I get more coffee in my system), but I think over all it's a nicer presentation. Here's the link: COLORADO AT THE SPEED OF LIFE

In other news... How 'bout them BRONCOS? Yeah!

More Pictures~

2009-10-01T11:48:00.002-06:00

Art's Aspen Haired Girlfriend

Pensive

Aspen Gold~

You can't see them but she is wearing Converse Hightops
with her dress.

A rare photo of Art.

Photo Shoot~ Pikes Peak

2009-10-01T10:51:00.003-06:00

Papa-rrazi

Father, daughter

Waving to the tourists... I think they thought she was a celebrity.

Art's Pink Haired Girlfriend.

Becca, the Snow Princess~

Because it's my day off and there is nothing worth watching on TV....

2009-09-30T10:25:00.007-06:00

While engaged in surveillance in the baking aisle yesterday I discovered that at $2.88 an ounce, pure vanilla extract runs $368.64 a gallon. If you think paying $2.34 a gallon for gasoline is bad, just be glad your car doesn't run on vanilla!
Vanilla extract is commonly stolen and consumed in grocery stores as a tasty alcoholic beverage. It's an easy target for alcoholic shoplifters but if you were to buy it by the pint as one might in a liquor store we're talking $46.08 or $97.92 a liter! It would be cheaper to buy Hennessey.
There are 28 messages (and counting) on our Comcast voice mailbox, but we don't know how to access the messages... so if you left us a message, we didn't get it.
I have 467 unopened emails in my AOL mailbox, so if you wrote to me there, I didn't get it. I remember when I used to stare at the little mailbox and wait for the mailman to say 'You've got mail', then pounce on the little envelope to see who was writing to me. I am no longer excited by promises of penile enlargement.
Foamy rocks! <-- clicky (warning, heavy sarcasm and profanity)
So does Mr. President! <-- clicky (re-post, but I really REALLY love this)
Bush wasn't a popular president (I liked him), but he's looking better and better every day.
With just 85 days until Christmas there is still time to make it to the Nice list. Quick, send me chocolate and I'll put in a good word for you.
Of all the possible letter, symbol and space combinations, this is what I found today. Beware, tomorrow is another day off!

Bleep.. bleep, bleep (censored)

2009-09-24T10:18:00.005-06:00

I have been blogging about my life for over 5 years now. I blog about every thing, the good, the bad, the ugly and the smelly in my life. I blog about work, I blog about my football team (go BRONCOS!), I blog about my pets... the goldfish eating goldfish, the shit eating dog and the dog eating cat... I blog about the mess in my kitchen and the absence of toilet paper in my bathroom. But mostly I blog about my kids, my husband and myself.

And more recently I have blogged about how my chaotic, imperfect but for the most part happy life was turned upside down. Blogging has been therapeutic for me. It served as a vent and helped me through this extreme life changing event.

But I have been asked not to blog about this particular subject any more because it has upset the delicate balance of parallel lives.

Interesting.....

Can you say 'tough titty'?!

Yeah, well, apparently I can't and I agreed not to blog about... that which I have agreed not to blog about.

Which leaves me little else to blog about except for the same ole, same ole!

(Sorry gang, not my fault!)

So, here goes Dust Bunny, censored edition:

Rocky brought home some little goldfish she won at the Colorado State Fair and we placed them in the tank with Henry, the homicidal goldfish. Nobody has seen the littlest one for over a week. Ironically Henry seems to have grown a little and he appears to be smiling. In other news, we are down to 4 rolls of toilet paper from the 24 pack Santa (aka Gabe) delivered 9 days ago. That's more than 2 rolls a day! Amazing.

And how about them BRONCOS!

Christmas in September?

2009-09-15T12:17:00.002-06:00

Santa Claus visited the House of Oompa sometime after midnight, bearing gifts of Fruit Loops, 2% milk, boxes of Mac and Cheese, cans of Spam and Corned Beef Hash and tons of Gatorade.
And coffee creamer... lots and lots of coffee creamer!

He also brought bottles of shampoo, body wash and a couple of razors. Girl razors. ("So the girls will leave my fricken razor alone!" grumbled Santa)

Anyhow, it was a welcomed visit and the fridge and cupboards are full of junk. Good junk! But best of all, he also brought a 24 count family pack of toilet paper. That should last us through the week end.

Thanks Santa. You're a good son!

Because somebody asked...

2009-09-11T14:25:00.002-06:00

No, I don't make this stuff up.

If I were, for starters, I'd make myself happy and with the body of a 20 year old. Not fat like I was at 20, but a boobilicious 20 year old, with perfect teeth, a perfect body, a gorgeous face and no split ends.

I would drive a really cool car, like a '65 Mustang, or a 2009 Challenger... I'd have a loving husband, my kids would be honor students or CEO's in million dollar corporations, and I wouldn't have to work other than to pull up my stock portfolios once daily to see how much I'm worth. And of course I'd have a new camera, a Nikon D5000 would be nice.

No, this is all factual. If you were to show up on my door step right now you would find my house exactly as I have described it... messy, noisy and smelly, with a shit eating dog, a dog eating cat, a goldfish eating goldfish, 5 kids of various ages, sizes and shapes, a husband on the couch with one eye on the TV and the other on his computer, the remove near one hand and a cell phone in the other. And I would be banging on a dusty computer keyboard instead of getting ready for work, which starts in less than half an hour. My hair would be unbrushed, my feet bare and I'd be trying to remember whether I put on deodorant or not. But supper is done so the family will get to eat tonight... although only time will tell if I get to or not... it depends on who all shows up at the door step at supper time and if they leave any left overs for me.

Yes, this is my life, and it is all real. How about yours? Think about it, is it really as good as you think or is it just wishful thinking? Don't ask me, listen to your heart, it already knows the answer.

All about me....

2009-09-09T14:37:00.004-06:00

I need:

A good night's sleep.

Beer and truffles.

A quiet place to think.

A sound proof room to scream in.

Scratch the beer, I need Absolut Black.

And truffles!

Just a little ventilation.

2009-09-08T11:13:00.006-06:00

I have chronic 'Foot In Mouth Disease'. It's incurable, and my prognosis is bleak. I open my mouth and speak my mind then almost in slow motion yet always way too late, I realize what I have just said but the damage is already done. When will I ever learn that sometimes what's on one's mind is best left in one's mind.

I said that some woman 'either has big balls or no balls. Either way, if I were her, I would not be in her position.' What I was attempting to communicate was that in her place I would have handled her situation differently. Compliment or poorly veiled insult? I'm not even sure myself how I truly intended it to be, but judging by the ensuing silence after the sharing of said comment, it was probably taken as an insult.

It's not that I mis-spoke, I just should not have spoken at all. I should have kept it to myself. Shoulda, shoulda, shoulda! Grrrrrrrrrr!

Oh well, c'est la vie. Such is life. Grow some balls but keep it real! Here's some violin music to go with that whine!

Uh oh, I think I just did it again. Damn! See what I mean? It's chronic!

By the way, that's Becca in the picture down by the pond yesterday. She took last year off from Orchestra so she could concentrate on other classes but as promised she is back in Strings this year. Some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Becca was born with a violin in her hands, they were just meant to be together, her and the violin.

Steaks, wedding gowns and sunflowers... oh my!

2009-09-06T07:59:00.003-06:00

I'm supposed to be Memorial Park taking pictures of hot air balloons. But then again, it's supposed to be sunny but it's not. It's over cast and gloomy. I'll try again tomorrow morning. Besides, I'm sore. I got in a tussle with some huge gorilla of a man who wanted some steaks but didn't want to pay for them. In the end I got my steaks back, and his shirt and hat. I also got a very sore body, but apparently I kicked him in a tender spot so I'm thinking he's feeling a whole lot worse than I am and that makes it all better as far as I'm concerned.

I saw an acquaintance, the ex-wife of a friend, at the store yesterday in a wedding gown. I took pictures for her at her last wedding. That was just 3 years ago. At first I was shocked but then I realized that it was really no big deal. Some people get married just to be married and love is just a 4 letter word. The first time Dickidoo asked for a divorce was during our 4th year. Who knows where we would be today if we had just given in then and called it quits right then and there. Would we be happier now? Would we ever realize what we had lost because we didn't want to work on our relationship? The girls wouldn't even exist. He would ask for a divorce 5 more times before this (you'd think I'd have gotten the hint by then) but we always seemed to work things out, for the kids. Well, the kids are grown and it's no longer about them. As much as I resent being replaced by an upgrade, I've finally gotten the message. I'm just glad it took me 25 years to get it.

Art has a garden on the side of the house. We have more zucchini than we know what to do with, and there are more on the way. Plus we have fresh green onions, green leaf lettuce fresh off the stalk and cilantro... with pumpkins and watermelons on the way. Sadly the strawberries, rosemary, basil and thyme never even sprouted. But the sunflowers, oh my goodness, the sunflowers! Who needs roses? These are gorgeous, and almost as big as my face! The birds in the neighborhood are very appreciative of Art's gardening skills and have been pecking at the blossoms ever since they bloomed. Every afternoon I can hear Art outside, shouting and shooting at the feathered fiends with his air soft gun like an armed scarecrow. The pellets just bounce off the birds feathers but they get the message and fly away... until Art leaves, then they're back again feasting on sunflower seeds.

Not sure what will be for supper tonight but I'm thinking it will probably have something to do with zucchini.

Oops, I did it again.

2009-09-02T11:02:00.003-06:00

I'm in the dog house.

Not the shithound's house, but the metaphoric dog house although I think I would prefer the literal dog house which is actually a plastic travel kennel on the side of the house.

I accidentally tipped my glass of wine on Dickidoo's old laptop while shopping for a lense he had offered to buy me for my birthday. The machine sizzled to an abrupt stop... no error code, no blue screen of death... just the black screen of 'Oh My God, What Have I Done?' That wasn't the first time I'd splashed my drink on the laptop. Last month I spilt a little bit on the bottom corner... not in the keyboard, but Dickidoo had asked me not to put my drink near the computer again. I forgot.

How come when I do something wrong, disaster almost always ensues yet when anyone else does something wrong nothing really happens and nobody seems to notice? I guess I'm just lucky like that. It sucks!

I confessed to Dickidoo as soon as he got home and he sat there with his arms crossed, glaring at me the way he does when people screw up around him. It's really an intimidating sight. I felt like a child standing in front of the principal. For a second I wished I had taken Rocky's advice to blame it on the kitten.

'I'm sorry', never felt so ineffective.

Oh well, what can he do, divorce me? I'm thinking I won't be getting that lense for my birthday though.

Meteors, birthdays and hair removal

2009-08-15T14:23:00.002-06:00

Spent the night simmering in the hot tub in the hopes of seeing some meteors from the Perseid's meteor shower. I saw 5 two nights ago, including twins that streaked through the night sky side by side in a perfectly paced race into the atmosphere. In an instant, like the others before them, they were gone, leaving me wide eyed in awe. Did I really just see that? I would have missed it if I had blinked. Last night I must have blinked at the wrong time because without my glasses on, I saw only the brightest of stars.

Not true... I did see 3 shooting stars. I'm pretty certain they were not part of the meteor shower since they were traveling in the opposite direction. Not one to waste wishes I closed my eyes tightly and wished the same wish I've been wishing on ever falling star I've seen for the past month.

My wishes have been coming true because I have made through yet another day and night.

We celebrated Rocky, Gabe and Art's birthdays last night. It was nice to have the entire family (along with significant others) together, laughing and enjoying each other's company. These moments are becoming more and more precious with each passing day and I hesitated to leave the restaurant because I knew that with the moment passing into our memories, we took one step towards the future and the inevitable.

I'm still trying to decide how to spend my 49th birthday. For some reason the excitement has kind of left me (duh!) and I am no longer in the mood for a celebration. I am not, however, going to let an opportunity to consume beer and truffles pass me by, so I imagine that what ever I decide to do, it shall include a 6 pack of Coronas, lime wedges and Godiva truffles.

Tip for the day: Be sure that the adhesive strip on your panty liner is fully adhered to your panty before pulling the garment up and on. The result, though not necessarily immediate, can be quite painful. And to think some women pay $$$ to have a similar hair removal procedure done. It felt like my eye balls were being ripped out of my head by the roots of my bikini hair! I cried, I kid you not... I sat there trying to carefully remove each hair one by one from the adhesive strip, blinded by a steady flow of tears.

Just 24 more cycles!

Where have all the children gone?

2009-08-11T11:57:00.003-06:00

I hardly ever see the Oompas any more. The best time for possible sightings is 0'dark hundred, which is usually just a couple of hours after I get into bed... and they hover over me, asking questions in a language that my sleep muffled ears cannot decipher. They're gone by the time I get up. Or maybe I don't get up until I hear the front door slam for the 5th time... At any rate, I hardly ever see the Oompas any more.

The honorary Oompas, the four legged, long tailed ones, on the other hand, are constantly under feet.

The cat thinks it's a dog. The dog thinks it's a cat. They both think they own the house.

I think they are both pains in the behind.

The dog is starting to think the same about the cat, who has just discovered the dog's nipples and decided to start nursing again. Jubilee is just a baby herself and doesn't really appreciate that kind of attention so she just bites the cat's head. And the cat meows and the dog barks, and I growl... Grrrrrrrrrrr!

I should have stuck to having kids. At least they speak English!

So... the cat and the dog are in time out, again! And the Oompas are off to the four winds.

How did I ever get suckered into this?

Another 'wtf' moment

2009-08-05T12:00:00.002-06:00

I woke up this morning on my own. No Oompas barging into my room to borrow my clothes, no dog whining to go outside, no cat whining because the dog won't play. It was quiet, as if nobody wanted to disturb me. Dickidoo was in the den watching TV but the volume was set low.

"This is why I shouldn't go to bed with wet hair," I apologized as I tried to force my Medusa doo down. My future-ex laughed but then grew serious.

"No coffee." he said without further ado. How like him not to beat around the bush.

Of course I didn't believe him and ran upstairs to see for myself. I looked high and low but to no avail. I even peered inside old coffee cans, maybe I could scrape up enough grounds to make a pot... Nope, I drained them the last time we ran out of coffee. Then I remembered all of the MRE condiment packs that were accumulating in the cupboard. MRE's always come with a napkin, moist towelette, salt, pepper, Tabasco sauce, gum or candy, powdered drink, sugar, creamer and instant coffee!

And more recently... tea?

I kid you not, tea!

We feed our soldiers these meals. They eat these before going into battle. They need something to give them strength and energy... something to put hair on their balls.

They need coffee, not tea! I need coffee, not tea!

"The English won the war with tea," Dickidoo reasoned.

"No they didn't, they lost the war... and the Colonists threw the tea into the ocean because they wanted COFFEE!"

Dickidoo is almost as addicted to coffee as I am, so I wasn't too surprised when he offered to go to the store to buy some. Unfortunately my over-worked Bunn-Omatic coffee maker is starting to show it's age and it keeps popping the circuit on my power stick so when the pot was ready, the coffee was only luke warm. It would take another 30 minutes before we had a pot of hot coffee. But we did get our coffee and once again there was peace in the universe.

In these changing times you take happiness when and where you can get it, even if it's just a fresh, hot cup of coffee...

Or a can of Febreese... the damn shithound has gas again! Grrrrr.... Gag!!!!!!

Pets, pests... same difference.

2009-08-03T13:42:00.003-06:00

The dog is in the dog-house because she ate the can of gold fishes food (including the can). The cat is in the dog-house because he knocked the zucchini bread batter off the table and all over the carpet. They're not precious little pets, they're just hairy, 4 legged Oompas with tails.

Rocky woke me up this morning at 8am. She knew it was my day off and that I wanted to sleep in but she had good news that just couldn't wait until she got home from Band Camp later on this afternoon.

"Mom, you'll be glad to know your jeans fit me good!" she said holding up my favorite faded black jeans, which had been neatly folded in my laundry pile yesterday but now showed obvious signs of wear.

"No they don't, they're baggy on me, they'll fall off of you!"

"I just need a belt."

Just because she can fit into my jeans doesn't mean that they fit her, but she and Becca have been my biggest supporters during my battle to lose inches and especially lately she has taken every opportunity to make me feel good about my accomplishment.

The only drawback... now that the girls can fit into my clothes they are always borrowing them and I still never have anything clean to wear.

This pay day I get to go on another shopping spree... for smaller undies. I'm finally out of the Granny-panties. Even my bra size has gone down. All I need is the right push 'em up bra and I'll be looking good.

Ha! Looking good for what, for who?

Actually, now that I think of it, I'll be looking good for me.

Maybe some black or white lace....

Song of the day: Stronger Woman by Jewel

It's all good...

2009-08-01T10:19:00.004-06:00

Dickidoo and I went to breakfast yesterday... Southside Deli, one of our favorite spots. We discovered it during a trip to court to fight a traffic ticket (it wasn't my fault, honestly Officer!), and now we go there every time the mood for homemade pastrami hash hits us.

It hit us yesterday and we ditched the Oompas for a little 'us' time.

It wasn't a date. We're past that. It wasn't 'making up', we've made up but there's no going back. It wasn't even a truce since we're not at battle. No, it was just two old friends sharing good food, good conversation and good company.

Looking back now I can't believe how close to the edge we came. This bombshell that Dickidoo dropped in my lap... Lord, was it really only 3 weeks ago?... was our wake-up call. Sink or swim, batteries not included. I'm not a strong swimmer, but I can float like a boat and kind of paddle myself in the general direction I want to go. It may take a while but I'll get there eventually. In the mean time I'm enjoying the cruise.

One day, some day, I may see this for the blessing that it is. For now I'll just say that it's better this way. Am I happy? No, but I am happier, which I had come to believe in recent years would never be possible again so yeah, this is definitely better. I love him, but do I love him enough to fight for him, for us? Yes, but I won't because love cannot be won. It must be given. I love him enough to let him go. That is my good deed for the day. Where's my stinkin' lollipop?

So, what is the point of this rambling post? I want to convince my family and friends... and maybe myself, that this is a good thing. I want to convince Dickidoo that I'm okay, that I will get through this, and that he doesn't have to worry about becoming the next episode of 'Snapped'. (I wasn't kidding about the genie and the bullfrogs though, that wish stands!)

Most of all I want folks to let it go. There is no good guy or bad guy, just 4 aching hearts in search of love. If at least one person can walk away from this happy... truly happy, then it will have been worth it (at least for that one person.) For now I'm content with walking away with my head held high. Happy will come later. But it will come.

And Rocky, my dear, no... this does not mean that the divorce is cancelled. I'm sorry but perhaps you will understand in time.

For everyone who came to support me, thank you. I appreciate it. For those who are giving me the gift of time by not calling, I apologize and thank you for understanding. For those who are worried, don't be. You have all been a huge helping hand that got me back up on my feet again, and I'm seeing clearly now that this isn't such a bad place to be after all.

It's all good!

Breaking the news (after all this time)

2009-07-26T00:29:00.004-06:00

I finally got the balls to call Mama today and fill her in. It was made even harder because one of my cousins in Hawaii had severe hemorrhaging in his brain and is being kept on life support just long enough to find recipients for his organs before he will be put to rest.

We talked about my cousin. I remember him being so cool. He was infinitely patient with me, his clumsy cousin who idolized him because of his skills on the guitar and surfboard. I remember when I bought my first guitar, he came over to help me learn to play it... and he fell in love with my round back so he went out and bought an Ovation, which is the Cadillac of acoustic round back guitars.

He taught me to play the opening chords of 'Here comes the Sun', one of my favorite guitar tunes.

I miss him already.

There's nothing like real tragedy to make your own discomforts seem petty.

I hoped Mama had read my blog and was already aware of the situation but Mama doesn't really get on the computer much. She was not going to make this easy for me. Suddenly I felt like a sophmore in High School trying to figure out how to tell my parents that I had gotten a D in Algebra. I had never gotten a D on my report card before and I was devastated... not so much personally but by the thought of my parent's disappointment in me.

Mama was surprised but I didn't hear even a hint of disappointment in her voice when I told her of the pending divorce. She seemed genuinely saddened. But not disappointed.

And then there she was again, optimistic as always. How does she do that? How does she always see the bright side of the darkest room, and yet she always does and is already making plans for next year, and the year after.

I used to think I wanted to be most like my Grandmother, Baban. Now I realize that if I can be even just a little like my Mama I'm doing pretty damn good.

I wonder if Mama has Sam Elliot's phone number because I am now available to take his phone calls.

If I can't have you...

2009-07-25T10:35:00.002-06:00

1-800-BOOBIDOO: I have a kitten.
1-800-BOOBIDOO: I can't have you. You won't let me have another baby so I got a kitten.

1-800-DICKIDOO: Bad idea. Just telling you and you know it.

1-800-BOOBIDOO: I know.
1-800-DICKIDOO: Say no.
1-800-BOOBIDOO: Too late.
1-800-DICKIDOO: Send it back.
1-800-BOOBIDOO: Look, it's either a baby, a boyfriend or a kitten and the first two are not going to happen!

So add a tiny part Siamese kitten named Smokey to the chaotic population at Loompaland. Did I also mention the two garter snakes and a new goldfish named Aku?

And guess who held the kitten last night and let it fall asleep on his chest while watching TV last night... none other than Mr. "Send It Back" himself!

Argh!

2009-07-22T14:42:00.003-06:00

I'm sitting on the couch right now dying one heart beat at a time, slowing bleeding to death. The phone is near by with 911 on speed dial. The broken left clicker on Dickidoo's laptop is the least of my worries. I must blog my final words.

Okay, maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but I am going through some major junk right now. I woke up never really quite fully waking up. Aunt Flo arrived last night and has been sucking the blood from my veins at an alarming rate. My heart is pounding to keep up with her demands. My head has been spinning for hours, and it might actually be enjoyable if I could keep the room from spinning with it. My arms and legs are as limp as spaghetti... cooked spaghetti. I feel like left overs from a Vampire buffet.

Actually what I'm suffering from is just pre-menopause coupled with an extra heavy menstrual cycle due to high stress levels. It sucks!

51 is the average age for menopause. That's just over 2 more years, or more importantly 25 more periods.... if I survive this one.

I need chocolate and Corona, lots of chocolate and Corona.

100

2009-07-21T10:32:00.003-06:00

After staring at the hole in my pinstriped pants for half an hour contemplating a mending job that probably would only have taken two minutes tops, I decided upon my black brocade pants, lace tank, a denim jacket and swede ankle boots. I even brushed my hair. I wanted to look good for my 100th bust.

I was tempted to hand 'her' a balloon in celebration, complete with confetti and cake like the Dutch store did for their 10,000th. Fortunately for her I am obligated to be respectful, dang-it! At any rate I guess you could say I totally ruined her shopping experience and I'll settle for that.

The bad thing about adrenaline is that it makes me stink. Adrenaline itself doesn't stink, but it makes me perspire and that stinks! I couldn't take my jacket off because my bra strap and walkie wires would show so I had to sweat it out... and live with the stench.

Hey, maybe I burned off a couple of pounds! How cool would that be!?

100th on my 1st Anniversary. Yeah! (By the way, that's not great at all by any standard but it was a personal goal and I'm proud of it.)

The New Normal

2009-07-20T11:49:00.004-06:00

So life is slowly starting to settle into a new 'normal'. Nephew Joseph has returned to his family in the south. I still look for him riding around the cul de sac when I drive down the street. Gabe finally has a room to sleep in. I'm bunking in Rocky's room for obvious reasons.

Just for the record Dickidoo is not leaving me because of another woman. He's leaving me because our marriage has failed. He is in love with another woman because he no longer loves me. If he still loved me this would not be an issue. I'm not taking this as well as it may appear. Believe me, I had my 2 day long pity party and still have relapses on a daily basis. In my mind I say things that are neither graceful nor amusing. If I had a genie there would be two new bull frogs in the pond. My mother drummed it in to my head 'if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all!' The funny thing is now that we have accepted the inevitable we have a better relationship than we have in quite some time. Perhaps we were just meant to be a young couple and then later on just friends. At any rate, without speaking for him, I personally have been happier since this all came out in the open than I have been in 5 years and that alone says more than words could.

At work I am preparing to celebrate my 1st Anniversary at my new position (today, yay!)... and also hope to make my 100th 'stop' (I'm at 99). In anticipation of the event I went sniffing through the laundry pile to find something decent to wear on this special occasion. I found the pinstriped slacks that I wore the other day and shook them out. Then to my horror I spotted a big gaping hole in the back of the pants, not in the front where the zipper should be. Did I really wear these pants to work with a split in the seam? I had calico polka dot panties on that day... Oh Lord, I hope I never know.

As for future plans, well I guess it's back to the drawing board. My 50 Year bucket list has taken a new direction. Gone are the mandolin lessons, the flight in the hot air balloon and the fishing trip in Alaska. Realistically speaking I think just being out and on my own two feet will be a good start for now. Starting over at the age of 50 is a bit scary but I'll still have my best friend (who is VERY lucky that I don't have a genie otherwise he would be croaking quite happily next to his sexy little amphibian sweetheart out by the pond down the way).

Song of the Day: I Was Already Gone, by Sugarland.

Acceptance.

2009-07-16T15:00:00.003-06:00

Life has a new surreal quality to it now. Everything looks the same but it couldn't be more different. Steve and I agreed to be friends and we are but I'm sensing a strain that didn't exist before.

Duh!

For the record though, our failed relationship is not based on a whim. We have not been consistently happy for several years. It was just a matter of time. We'd have good spells, then something would happen that would knock us off kilter for a while. Usually we would right ourselves, apologize, kiss and make up. This time it's different. This time there is no kissing and making up. It's time to count our losses and let go before we destroy each other.

It is possible that things may not work out the way Steve hopes. He is well aware of this. I can't blame him for wanting to try. 'Anything worth having is worth fighting for.' We've been fighting to make 'us' work for a long time. It's time to accept that our time is passed. It's time for Steve to fight for something else. If it doesn't work out as hoped, the fact will remain~ our time has passed and it's time to move on.

I'm ready to move on. Not financially... my credit sucks! Emotionally though I find myself getting more confident with each passing day. I can talk without getting choked up and teary eyed. I no longer feel like a failure... broken and disposable. It's not the end of my life, but the beginning of a new exciting phase.

Now if I can just get people to understand that I'm getting a divorce, not dying from some incurable disease. I'm not in the market for a new love. I don't do blind dates, nor am I interested in a referral for eHarmony. Really, I'm fine!

But I swear if I hear another sappy love song I will puke!

Today revisited~

2009-07-15T07:13:00.002-06:00

I just read my last post. Day off, NCIS marathon, 'life is good'.

Bullshit!

I never should have gotten up off of the couch when Dickidoo came home a couple of hours after I made that post and suggested a ride. Of course it would only have prolonged the inevitable but at least I could have enjoyed the rest of my marathon while I still cared.

'I'm not happy', he said.

'Ditto,' I replied.

'I still care for you but I don't love you anymore.'

(Phew! Is that all? Well, at least there isn't another woman!)

'There's someone else and I can't stop thinking about her.'

'Her' is a woman from his past, his childhood sweetheart. Long story short, they have rekindled their love for each other. Unfortunately they are both still married.

I thought I was ready for anything. I was ready for everything except that he was still in love with her. I could have dealt with anyone else but her. There I was thinking I was too fat and unappealing for him, or maybe he had ED, thus his distraction and my involuntary re-virginhood but it turned out not to be about me at all.

No, it was something more powerful than that. It only took him more than 25 years but he finally figured it out, he's still in love with her. Secretly I hope it's just the romantic memory and that once they are back together and she realized that he farts in his sleep, is a sub-conscious public nose picker and doesn't flush the toilet that she'll want nothing to do with him. Then I realize that because I loved him I had accepted those less than romantic qualities about him. If their love is as enduring as it appears to be it won't matter.

Still, I hope she's a farter too, and they can sit on the porch in their rocking chairs and watch the sun set rocking and farting like two happy hillbillies.

(That was supposed to be our future, dammit.)

So how do I feel about this? 'Feel' may be the wrong word. I haven't 'felt' much since I was so wickedly lured away from my NCIS marathon. It's like somebody has pulled the plug on my future leaving just a blank or staticky screen. I struggle to restore power and bring things back in to focus but just as I gain control and think 'Yeah, I can do this,' the power flickers and I'm in the dark again. Crying helps. So did drinking until Steve got rid of my 5 liter box of wine after I got sloshed and suggested that he do so to keep me from developing a bad habit.

25 years of 'in one ear and out the other' and he picks now to start listening to me! I could have used some wine last night. And where's my tequila? I didn't say anything about getting rid of the damn tequila! Grrrr!

I wish Steve was being a butt about all this, it might be easy to handle if I were on the defense, but he has been very honest and sensitive. I wish she were a hussy, but I've met her family and know she's comes from good people. I wish I could hate Steve and her for kicking me out of the fairytale but I can't because I honestly want Steve to be happy again. Not gloriously happy but he is a good man and should be happy. For that matter I happen to believe that I am a good woman and therefore deserve to be happy as well, but in this case we can't both be happy so it may as well be him since he's already got a plan.

The kids know and weren't particularly surprised. They are pre-conditioned by the accepted norm in society, plus they are all very mature so they understand that sometimes things just don't work out and families become separated. They are all making plans for me moving in with them when they move out. They have obviously forgotten my vow to let them change my Depends when incontinence sets in. For now they are just concerned with making me feel loved.

Its weird. This time last week I thought I was set for life. Now I'm plagued with thoughts of where I shall live once we sell this big old house. I'm almost 50. I'll never make enough to buy a house which means my less than generous paycheck is going to have to squeeze out rent for the rest of my life. I'm going to turn in to the bitchy old lady in the downstairs apartment who is always banging on the ceiling with a broomstick for quiet.

The first time Steve proposed to me he said and I quote: 'I want to watch our hair grow silver together.' That was sooooooo romantic... and as predicted we have both aged gracefully. He has more silver than I do, but mine is longer. Poor guy must have crapped his pants recently when he realized that I had dyed my hair to cover all the white and he'd have to wait longer to fulfil the prophecy so he could call it quits and get on with his life.

Every day Steve asks me if I'm okay to which I lie and say 'yes' but I'm not fine. My 25 year old romance has been replaced by an older, deeper love and I am nowhere in the picture. It's not even a 'happily ever after' story yet since it is not possible for Steve and 'her' to be together for the time being and they must wait.

I wish someone would love me like that, with a love so powerful that it endured a quarter of a century separation and countless obstacles but it still prevailed. I can understand and respect that kind of true love. It just would have been nice if it could have been for me.

So now that I am soon-to-be-single, what now? Zack's already thrown in the name of a replacement.

Are you fricken nuts because I sure am not!

No. For every heart there is one true love. Ideally the match is mutual but occasionally, as in this case, there is a mismatch and while my heart chose Steve, his heart was meant for another. No regrets though. I've got 5 wonderful kids and many great memories out of it. And now that we aren't so busy feeling unhappy with our marriage and have accepted that we cannot force it I think I have found a new friend in Steve. It's good to hear him laugh again.

But please... please, please please let her have morning breath and night-gas!

Today~

2009-07-08T12:06:00.002-06:00

The first time I peeked at my alarm clock it read 9:15 am. Somewhere outside the bedroom door an obnoxious basshit hound barked for attention. I made a mental note to ignore further canine outbursts. That proved to be easier than I could have imagined and the next time I peeked at the alarm clock it was 10:30. The dog was still barking from somewhere beyond the bedroom door. I suspected the Canine-English translation was something similar to:

"Hey, get your fat ass out of bed and let me outside, I have to pee!"

I don't know why she was barking at me because there were 3 other people out in the living room. Dang dog. Dang kids.

Breakfast was 2 cups of coffee. Lunch consisted of a coconut covered 'Snowball' and two black licorice whips while sprawled out on the couch in front of the TV.

An 8 hour marathon of NCIS on my day off, life is good!

Under where?

2009-07-01T10:37:00.003-06:00

Fashion fads come and go. In my job I see the trends ebb in and out like the tide. Fluorescent hair, facial piercings, multi layered shirts, skin tight jeans, mismatched shoes, full body tattoos ~ all in an effort to appear cool.

I view most of these passing fancies with mild humor. Young and old alike, trying so hard to keep up with the Jones, who are trying to keep up with the Smiths.

I'm still wearing last decades jeans (yay, they fit!) but I do have a purple iPod with matching earbuds, does that make me cool?

The one fashion craze that I'm having a problem accepting is the displaying of the undies. Girls and women prance around with their bra straps deliberately showing, silently begging us to notice their neon animal print. Low cut jeans and high cut thongs that disappear into proud plumbers cracks. Guys waddle around with their feet far apart in an effort to keep their jeans in the perfect height above their knees but below their butt. I'm still trying to figure out why they even bother with a belt.

That's not fashion. That's just an attempt to justify sloppy, lazy dressing.

And for the record, I never thought Picasso was very talented either.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

2009-06-17T10:37:00.002-06:00

I had strawberry freezer jam on toast for breakfast... again. I'm not a breakfast person but I will make an exception for strawberry freezer jam on toast, again and again and again. My nephew wanted to make a sandwich. He opened up the silverware draw. It didn't rattle as it normally does because it was empty. My steadily diminishing population of flatware had since been relocated to the dirty side of the counter. I deduced that information immediately upon entering the kitchen. My nephew needed time to stare into the drawer, taking in it's emptiness to process the possibilities.

"Keep staring, something might re-appear," I suggested as I helped myself to another cup of coffee. And so he did... for another full minute, just standing there staring at the empty drawer organizer. Finally he shook his head and shut the drawer, then dug through the dirty dishes for a knife to wash. It took a while but I think he's catching on.

I'm blogging with a wounded mouse. The left clicker has been amputated, no doubt during one of Zack's late night battles with his WOW buddies. He replaced the little panel but it doesn't stay in place, sticking to my finger every time I press down upon it. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that Zack was not victorious in his conquest last night, thus inflicting the mortal wounds to the mouse. Sad times indeed.

Oh well, I suppose I've procrastinated enough and better get busy. I've got a huge splattering of pooh on my car to clean off. Some dang bird emptied it's cargo bay right over my beautiful little car while I was at work. There was so much ick all over the poor Impala that it almost drowned. My initial suspicions were that Big Bird forgot to go to the bathroom before leaving Sesame Street and chose my car as an emergency evacuation location but Big Bird can't fly, so now I'm wondering if maybe there is a California Condor cruising the friendly skies above my store. I was able to clean the junk off of the windshield but had to drive home with it oozing all over the rest of the poor little car. And let me tell you, it's very distracting to have two big splatters of bird crap dripping down your window as you're driving. It was there the whole time in my peripheral vision like a bright neon sign that flashed out 'Look at me, I've been shat upon!' Grrrrr!

Today I'm staking out the parking lot. I'm going to find that dang bird and I'm going to shoot a cork up it's tail pipe. Crap on my car will you? I don't think so!

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING?

2009-06-13T12:08:00.006-06:00

Strawberries are on sale right now so I grabbed a bunch to make freezer jam. I got enough for 1 recipe then decided to make 2 batches so I bought some more strawberries. (what can I say, it's some gooooooood stuff!) I started crushing berries and measuring them out, and wouldn't you know the first batch of berries I bought was the perfect amount for 2 batches of jam. Which meant that I had a bunch of left over berries.

I still have a bunch of left over berries. Every time I seen an Oompa I remind them to eat the strawberries so they don't go bad. It's gotten to a point where I'm almost ordering them to eat the berries. I think they're starting to avoid me. Who would have thought I'd have to order my kids to eat strawberries! At any rate, I have 11 jars of strawberry freezer jam, which puts me pretty close to Strawberry Heaven, except for one little problem.

The Oompas ate the last of the bread and I have nothing to spread my strawberry freezer jam on!

I'm trying to justify making a special trip to the Grocery Store down the way to get a loaf of bread but Al Gore's image and warning about Global Warming haunts me.

That's okay, that's what spoons are for! Mmmmmmm good!

Dickidoo left for California on Friday. He decided to fly rather than to ask me to borrow the car. Actually I think he did it just so I wouldn't try to sneak one or more of the Oompas and maybe the Shithound into the trunk without him knowing. I haven't talked to him since his lay-over in Denver that night. I'm thinking he's having all kinds of fun and is not sharing. I'm thinking 'out of sight, out of mind'. I'm thinking at least one of us is having fun and it may as well be him... although I'd have rather it be me.

I hope he eats a real Fuji burger and maybe a Carnita's burrito for me. And maybe he can track down those folks from Killer Shrimp...

But he's not going there for the food. His brother's son is graduating (with honors! Yay Michael!) and Dickidoo wanted to be there for the celebration. And he will also be able to visit with friends and relatives he hasn't seen in years. I guess I should be happy for him instead of pouting because he left me home... with the Oompas... and the Shithound... and no real Fuji burger or Carnitas burrito... and no Killer Shrimp...

Yeah, at least one of us is having fun and it may as well be him!

THE OOMPAS STRIKE AGAIN,

2009-06-09T10:05:00.002-06:00

and this time it's one of their own!

Life in LoompaLand is in a time warp. With all of the Oompas back in the nest it is like old times. The house is loud and messy. Someone is always hungry. We never have enough toilet paper. Coffee is the scent of the day.

I watched Gabe grooming his hair from the bathroom doorway yesterday. He is trying to grow his hair back to it's pre-Army length, down to his waist. In the mean time it is at an uncontrollable length that is just beginning to curl over his ears. So he mousse's it down.

'Do you know why I had to buy my own mousse?' Gabe asked as he slicked back his hair in front of the tacky turquoise faux marble vanity. 'I used the girl's gel the other day and when I got to work Dad looked at me funny and asked what I had in my hair. When I looked in the mirror my hair was covered with glitter. At first I thought I just got a little glitter on me, but then I realized that my hair was covered with glitter.' He turned and shook a tube of hair gel at me.

'This is fricken glitter gel! I went to work with fricken glitter gel in my hair!'

I laughed long and hard. I'm not sure if I was laughing harder at the thought of my big tough son showing up at work with his dark wavy, neatly groomed hair sparkling brightly in the morning sun, or the thought that he had become a victim of his own siblings.

Yep, it's just like old times.

Sticks and stones...

2009-05-21T09:12:00.003-06:00

Some bratty t'weenaged kid called me a 'b-i-t-c-whatsit' the other day at work. In the first 47 years of my life nobody had ever called me a 'b-i-t-c-whatsit' to my face, and now all of a sudden it's almost as if it's written on a name tag on my forehead because everyone is calling me it.

I accept the moniker with professional pride.

Today is the last day of school. Ironically I'm not dreading it like the past. There's no on going count-down to the re-opening of school posted yet. With the Oompas being older and able to fend for themselves I will probably rarely see them between their busy schedules and my work. It's that way even now. I'm usually still asleep in bed when they leave the house in the morning and they're usually in bed by the time I get home from work.

Not to worry. The Oompas have never observed the sacred boundaries of my bedroom. If Dickidoo isn't lying on his side of the bed while I'm there, it's fair game for the girls and their late night re-caps or sleepy, morning breath conversations with me. Even the boys make a point of staying up on occasion to talk to me.

I feel for the bratty t'weenaged boy's parents because I doubt they will have such fond memories of conversations with him. I've seen him talk to his father and it was laced with profanity, not quite the thing fond memories are made of.

Today is the last day of school. Tomorrow is the first day of Summer Vacation and I am actually looking forward to spending some time with the Oompas. Of course, by the looks of their dry-erase calendar I may have to settle for those late night re-caps and morning breath scented conversations in bed.

More stuff n' such.

2009-05-15T00:20:00.003-06:00

Dickidoo is going to California next month for our nephew's graduation. I don't get to go due to inventory, and besides I went on the Cross Country Pajama Party in March. I get to stay home with the Oompas. I heard from a little birdie that Dickidoo has made plans. He's made plans that include me and my cute little Impala. But as most of Dickidoo's plans that include me go, I am always the last to know. Apparently Dickidoo plans on driving my cute little Impala to California, most likely because of it's excellent mileage. And since a few years ago when he bought himself the Hemi for my birthday which coincidentally I can't reach the clutch because I'm only 5'2 and by the way, in case you haven't heard... I'm not very clutch friendly... Gabe gets to drive the Hemi and I get to drive....

The Pimp-mobile!

Okay, I know I'm not fooling anyone, I really want to drive the Pimp-mobile. I'm just wondering how long it will be before Dickidoo shares the plan with me. I'm predicting that if he doesn't read this blog first, he probably won't tell me until just days before the trip at which time he will swear he thought he discussed this with me already.

I'll be posting a new picture of myself... soon? Becca gave me a mid-life-make-over. She cut my hair and colored it. My hair is now just below my shoulders instead of just above my butt... And while it is still brunette, there's no white hair! Okay, so maybe some of the hair is a little (a lot) lighter than others, but it's not definitely, starkly, pure white!

Everyone has complimented me on my new look except for Dickidoo, whom I really don't think has even noticed. And he hasn't said anything about my new figure either. Grrrr! It's a good thing I'm not doing this on purpose because I'd be really ticked off by the wasted effort. As it is I'm just ticked off.

Look at me, dammit! Say something! (hey, easy! Be nice!)

A little boy, maybe 4 years old, smiled at me the other day and said 'Oooooo Mama!', just like that. That made my year.

Maybe I'll get a mohawk and dye it red while Dickidoo is gone, and pierce my belly button (which isn't as big as it used to be!)... think Dickidoo will notice then?

Nahhhhhhhhh, probably not.

Jubi-doo

2009-05-12T23:43:00.004-06:00

What happens when a Shit-hound eats glitter? It lays shiny shit. We have shiny shit all over our back yard. Of course it's perpetual shit, Jubi ate the glitter and shat, then ate the glittery shit cos it was shiny and it tasted good(?) And then she shits the glittery shit, and then eats it again and... well, you get the picture.

And I have a shitty but glittery back yard.

Let me fill you in about our not so little basshit hound. For starters she has ADD... I didn't know dogs could have an attention deficit disorder. Jubilee cleared that misconception up real quick. She can't even pee without being sidetracked by a leaf blowing across the yard or a bug flying past. While her paws are some what clumbsy, she has velcro lips which suck in and latch on to anything within 6 inches of her jawls. She may only stand about 2 feet high but has a 4 foot reach. That means anything on the lower three shelves of the pantry, the bread box and the table are pretty much fair game when nobody is looking.

Jubi-doo is highly intelligent and is playing on our simple human minds. She does tricks for us, she can sit, and lay down. She shakes hands and gives high fives. More importantly, she has us trained to give her treats when she performs these silly little antics. But we love her for it and toss her a bacon-bit on command.

She is learning how to howl. So far she only does it by accident. So far it's still cute. I'm sure I will be fussing about it before long, but for now it really is quite adorable.

Summer is almost upon us. The Oompas only have a couple more weeks of school. I'm not dreading it that much this year. Perhaps it is because I'm pretty sure they will be gone most of the time. The girls both have steady boyfriends, and then there's their busy marching band schedule. Art hopefully will have a job by then and between that and time spent with his pink haired girlfriend he'll probably never be around either. Zack is seriously thinking about moving out to New York to help out on my sister's yak farm. And Gabe, who is now working in the same building as Dickidoo, is hoping to be out in his own apartment in a couple of months. My nephew will most likely be rejoining his family back east so it will just be Dickidoo, me....

Oh yeah, and the shit-hound!

1 rhinoceros, 2 rhinocerosesssss....?

2009-05-12T11:25:00.002-06:00

There is a Community White Board at work full of important notices, Employee recognition and useless trivia. Two days ago, in the block reserved for useless trivia, was the following: A group of rhinos is a 'crash'. I actually found that interesting. (what can I say, I am easily amused). That little tidbit got my gears turning and promoted more questions, as any good bit of trivia will.

I love Google!

My first question was the obvious. How the heck does one spell the whole word? 'Rhino' only brought up encyclopedia entries for 'rhino'. I had to speed read through several pages to find 'rhinoceros'. Okay, so what is the plural for 'rhinoceros'?

I should have been happy with knowing the correct spelling and the knowledge that a group is called a crash. Wiktionary doesn't even know for sure. Acceptable options include 'rhinoceros', 'rhinoceri', 'rhinoceroi', 'rhinocerotes' and 'rhinocerot'.

Hopefully I will never encounter the need to use the plural for rhinoceros in this lifetime.

Thought for the day: 'Swine flu' is the past tense for 'When pigs fly'. (thanks Art)

Technically retarded

2009-05-08T10:29:00.005-06:00

retarded: (adjective)
Delayed in development.

I lovingly refer to my kids as 'techno-geeks'. They are, but it's not genetic that's for darn sure. Dickidoo, in a moment of jealousy, purchased himself an ipod nano in an attempt to keep up with the Oompas. He was entranced by the possibility of having thousands of songs at his finger tip. Being as Mother's Day was right around the corner, he got one for me as well (in purple!)

That was Quarto de Mayo... May 4th. It is now Ocho de Mayo, May 8th. Neither one of us has a single song loaded on our ipods.

Did you know that before you can load music on to an ipod, you must transfer your music to iTunes? No biggie. All you have to do is select 'add folder to library' and iTunes can transfer it all over. It started off quickly, then a little box popped up. Did I want iTunes to convert my .wma files?

Sure, why not!

6 hours and 4434 files later iTunes sent me an error stating that I didn't have enough room in my iTunes library for all of the files (really? it's only 23G or 11 days worth of music... yes, it calculated all of that).

I don't even know 434 songs in my lifetime let alone 4434! I did a quick scan of my incomplete library. iTunes had loaded every sound file it found including little sound effects ( is that what those .wma files were?) When I get tired of listening to the soothing sounds of Kenny G. I can listen to 'body falling in snow' or 'car backfiring'.

4 days later and neither Dickidoo nor I have a single song loaded on our ipods. I'm thinking we probably should have saved ourselves some time and money and gotten portable 8 track tape players. (in purple of course!)

I CAN BREATH!

2009-04-29T10:37:00.003-06:00

My nose has been running a marathon since the first thaw this spring. I don't mind. It could be worse. I could be full of snot and NOT have a runny nose. In my book congestion is worse than free flow.

But there is an absolutely disgusting gadget on the market these days to help combat nasal congestion. If you get congested a lot you have got to try it out.

It's a squirt bottle that you fill with a saline solution then you stuff the nozzle up one nostril and squirt the liquid up your nose. The saline goes up your nose, into your sinuses, and out the other nostril (and your mouth... don't swallow!), taking snot and mucus from your sinus cavities along with it. If you're not sure that it is actually doing it's job, just look in the sink as the saline pours out of your nose and into the basin. Yep, chunks and sludge!

As disgusting as it sounds, it is instant relief for this allergy suffering old lady and her pollen ravaged sinuses. Even the sinus headaches are gone. I feel positively rejuvenated. Sure beats the booger-ball that sucks out the mucus and your eye balls as well if you're not careful.

Now I can enjoy the fragrance of a warm spring morning, the roses, the lilacs, the Water Treatment Plant down the way...

Ah, spring time! I love it!