Archives from 2000

January 3, 2000 - Ahhh, the year 2000!   I made out my first set of checks to pay bills yesterday, and did not write 1999 once!  (I did, however, write December 3, 2000 instead of January.)  Can't win for losin.

Work went well, rolling over and all.  We killed three trees for the paper to check and double check our work.  Numbers matched and all seemed good.  I've checked the system each day since to make sure it hasn't changed it mind and reverted back to the 1900's, but it all still seems stable.  Did you see the Eiffel Tower Fireworks?  My sister mentioned that with all the money all the countries spent on fire works, we could have solved world hunger, which is probably true, but man, did you see the Eiffel Tower Fireworks?!

I had a 'free' day today, with the kids back in school.  (We had a floating holiday at work.)   I went to the bank, the pharmacy, stopped to see my Aunt Jean at the hospital, then went to Meijer's.  My youngest son turns seven on Wednesday, so I wanted to pick up cake mix and a few presents.  At our house, you get your choice of cake and dinner on your birthday.  He wanted a lemon cake. "You've never had lemon cake" I pointed out to him.  Turns out he wants lemon "because it's Pokemon Cake" (meaning, it's yellow).  I got lemon cake mix, and I will make that into cupcakes but I got a yellow cake for the main birthday cake, and I will attempt to draw Pokemon on it.  I am a bit artistic and my Cartman cake way back when came out good.  Cross your fingers.  Gotta frost them all!   He is currently contorted up on the couch in some odd six year olds "stance of rebellion" and crying because I will not let him open his birthday presents.   Ah, being a Mom is hard, but some things make it all worth while. (Evil laugh).

I bought myself three new pillows over the weekend.  The pillows I had were very very old.  One of them was my Dad's pillow for years and years, and when he died in 1985, I inherited it.  So it's years and years old plus another fifteen years old.  It was a feather pillow that would form to the shape of your head, and I loved it because I could form it to fit my neck, which I have such trouble with anyway.  But the feathers had degraded to a point of balling up into one small lump in the corner of the pillow case.  Breaking in new pillows SUCKS, let me tell you.  I bought a feather pillow to replace my 'old faithful' and two other to replace the flimsy polyester filled pillows I use for a 'huggy' pillow and additional neck support.  This all makes sleeping a challenge the last few days.

Sparky the dog has been making the kids laugh out loud with her antics as of late.  I finally had to explain to my daughter what Sparky was really doing.  Even though Sparky was spayed, she seems to still have 'needs' and takes care of those 'needs' in the middle of the living room, to the children's hysterical laughing fit delight.  Odie, the miniature Doberman - Chihuahua, who is 10 years old and neutered a long time ago, has been known to take care of his 'needs' by rolling up into a ball like an armadillo and rolling about the floor like an eight ball, which also brought on tons of hysterical laughter from the kids.  They never did ask 'why' he was doing it.  They just laughed that he did do it.  Sparky is not as discrete as Odie and tends to squat spread eagle right in the main drag of the living room and go at it like there's no tomorrow.  Since my daughter just saw 'THE MOVIE' in health class today, questions had to be answered.  I look forward to going back to work tomorrow, now that you mention it. Sigh.

January 6, 2000 - I was home sick today. I had tummy problems.  Needed to be near a toilet.  It's not a gracious thing, pooping your brains out.  Humbles one quite a bit, don't you think?  I am better now, though.  Got out of bed around 4 p.m. and was able to do some housework.   Hold me back, my life is too exciting.  My oldest son finally called tonight.   I have not heard from him since Christmas.  I invited him over for dinner, but he said he would be over sometime next week.  I believe his car is 'dead' actually, so he cannot come over.  He didn't say it was, but he has a check here from his last job, and there is NO WAY he would NOT come to get that, unless he couldn't.  I hope he gets his car fixed soon.  In a way, it's a blessing, because he has no car insurance at this time.  Real life BITES sometimes, don't it?

My youngest had a nice birthday get together at McDonald's with my sister and her family last night.  We had some McBirthday McCake after we had our dinner, and the kids played in the McPlay McLand and got lots of McStatic in their hair.   The help at that particular McDonald's left much to be desired.  One of the teenagers behind the counter was kind enough to mime Mr. Ed's greatest speaking parts as she chomped on her gum.  There was a girl who enjoyed her gum!  The other girl who took our order, seemed to be in another dimension.  I am happy that she has a place to go.  Every time she pressed a button on the register, it was as if it was the first time she had touched it.  A victim of lead paint chips, no doubt.

My OWN CHILDREN demonstrated my parental skills by eating with their mouths open, and swinging around in their chairs at a high rate of speed, and reaching across the tables.  The word 'manners' was not heard nor practiced last night.  My son was also the perfect gentleman when my sister gave him a birthday gift.  He adored the Blue Ty Bear she gave him, which was accompanied by a cool bear pen that lights up when you write.  He had received one of those pens the day before from my friend Sue, so he told my sister, "I gots one of them ALREADY, geez..."   I was just abashed!  Sigh.  We had a nice talk on the way home about proper 'receiving' manners.  I could tell it did not compute in his little head.   Sigh.  Somewhere, I went terribly wrong.

Calgon? C A L G O N ! ? ? ? ......

January 8, 2000 - The kids each had a friend over last night.  The two young boys were quite funny to listen to.  I never hear the word 'butt' used in so many different ways!  My son's friend's laughter was infectious.  He has a good laugh.  They did not go to sleep until after one a.m.  They spent the night giggling, making farting noises, and belching like REAL men. (Real men giggle?)  I finally went up for the 20th time to tell them to go to sleep.  I had on a wrist support for my bad hand, and the friend says, "Why you wearing that?  Is it because you are fat?"  I told him "Yes, if I didn't wear this, gooey fat would ooze out of my wrist and get everything all sticky. It ain't pretty."  He seemed content with that answer.

I am headed off for a nap to recover from the night of giggles and fat repression ...

January 12, 2000 - The snow comes, the snow goes.  The mud gets deeper, then freezes.  The grooves in the driveway have increased in size so much I can only see the top of my kid's heads as they walk to the bus.  If Odie runs out the front door, it's weeks before we can find him again.   The joy HERE is that it isn't even SPRING!!!

My mind has left me for vacation this week.  I start to say something I think is of much importance, and *Poof* it's gone.  I dial the phone at work, and forget who I'm calling and why.  I forget where I park at the store and at work, and have come up with many marvelous ways of looking nonchalant about backtracking to find my car.  My only hope is to continue to the point where I am forgetting I am forgetting, hence, no stress about the lapse of memory!

I saw my friend Diane at the store.  Lordy, I love that woman!!!   I don't care how down and out I feel or how frumpy or old I feel, or if I was stark naked and my stretch marks were purple from the cold, she would make me feel loved and welcome and wanted.  I think there are very few people we feel totally accepted by in our lives, I mean totally unconditionally accepted by.  She is one of 'my few' - and when I see her, I relive that emotion of her wonderful 'gift' all over again.  She has a wonderful laugh.  Her daughter was with her too, and she, too, always hugs me and I feel worthy.  If you have a friend like that, tell that person next time you see them how they 'thrill' you.  They deserve to hear it, or at least read it in print.  (Oh, and remember, Jeff says - NEVER PAY RETAIL!)  We talked about our sons. Her's is in college, he just went back from Christmas break.  Mine had not called me in a long long time.  We lamented things concerning the eldest of the fruit of our loins.  When I got home from the store, my eldest son's car was IN THE DRIVEWAY!  WooHoo!  I can't believe how HAPPY I was to see him.  I held him in a bear hug until I could hear him struggling to breath.  He's alive!! He's ok!!  And he stayed for dinner!  Happy Sigh.

My Aunt is back in the hospital with pneumonia.  She sounded much better last night when I saw her.  Doesn't it just piss you off when you can't shoulder some of the pain a loved one is suffering?  Very frustrating for both parties.  One not wanting to impose, the other wishing they could help in some way.   On the way back from the hospital last night, I was thinking about 'things' - how my Mom never did nor would ever if she were still alive, attempt to understand the use of a computer. It was beyond her ability to fathom ... how different generations come to tolerate and accept different types of things ... how we as humans just 'accept' some things with blind faith, never NEEDING to know how they work or why they work.  I believe I mentioned before how when I was younger how I would think about the end of all things, the sun, the galaxy, the universe, time and space ... Well, a human just cannot understand that type of THING!!!  It is not possible.  You can have faith and beliefs, but to actually ponder it to the point of comprehending the size and the vastness of it all - you just can't do it.  The next generation after this one MIGHT be able to understand more about THINGS, and deal with it.  We, right here, right now, just cannot.  Sigh.  It felt good to admit that to the sky last night. Right now, my youngest cannot comprehend how to get out of some level in his Gameboy Pokemon game.   His little man has been running in circles for quite some time now.  Even hitting the game has not helped.  His sister is in the shower, and he pounded on the door and demanded that she GET OUT NOW and help him. (She in no uncertain terms told him he was s.o.l.)   He understands she can find the way out of whatever he is in.   He cannot comprehend why he can't.  This is too much frustration for him.   He is in tears.  I believe it's time for the Gameboy to go to bed, don't you, and we all should just stop thinking too much!  Now get to bed, ALL OF YOU!!!

January 13, 2000 - Dr. Dahlstrom, the doctor that delivered me in 1960 and then delivered my oldest son in 1980, and was the best family doctor EVER, passed away in December.  I just found out. Dr. D was one of the first female family doctors in this area.  She was wonderful.  Stern, stubborn, strong willed, but always willing to help in any way possible, Dr. D was an inspiration.  I couldn't tell you how many times she calmed my mother down or listened to her cry over things at home.  She was more than a doctor, she was a confidant and a friend.  Way back when, when I didn't know what to do when I broke water with my soon to be first born at six in the morning and called her in a panic -she had just been up hanging up clothes on the clothes line already- she told me not to worry, to take my time getting around and up to the hospital, and she'd meet me there.  All so calm and worry free, which of course calmed me down too.  She looked at magazines with me as she waited with me.  She was there nine hours.  She helped delivered a few other babies in between, waiting for me.  When I had a terrible time with life three months after he was born from depression/postpartum blues, she sat with me for an hour listening to me talk and cry and babble on until I talked myself out.  I know she touched thousands of lives in her life.  I am very honored one of them was mine.

It snowed quite hard in the early morning hours with much wind.   The roads were VERY icy this morning. It was quite fun going to work!  I love this weather!  The neighbor boy slid off the road down about a mile from here.   Someone brought him home.  I find it quite funny ... he is always lamented he can't find himself  'a woman' to date more than a few times.  Well, when I went around the corner where he slid off, there were four vehicles stopped to 'check' on the car that was WAY into the ditch with it's lights on, and they were all beautiful women!   "I can't see inside" said one, when I rolled down my window, "I wonder if there is anyone there?"  I told them the Jeep Cherokee belonged to my neighbor and he was safe at home.  The crowd of fine young looking ladies all sighed a 'phew' of relief and went on their way.  For some reason, this tickles me to no end.

Work has been just CRAZY all week.  I cannot think the chaos could be any worse.  It's not life or death chaos, just very unorganized excessive normal chaos.  I can't wait for the weekend.  At least at home, I can control the messes, and who makes them, and WHO CLEANS THEM UP!!!

Did you notice how a lot of the newer, alternative music lately is pretty darn good?  I always wondered as a kid if SOMEDAY all the patterns of notes would get used up and there would be no way a 'new' song could be written.   Apparently I was wrong, or the different combinations of sounds/notes/arrangements is so huge, it can't be reached.  I had to suffer through the disco era, but the music lately has more than made up for that.  The words to these songs are sometimes quite deep and profound as well.  The combination of a song who's tune makes you get goose bumps plus with words touch your heart or mind as well is better than chocolate. And I would like to know how do we store all those words in our heads for songs from our past?   I bet if I asked ten people (who were my age) right now to sing the Gilligan Island theme, they all could.  Or if you switch to an 'oldies' station, you know most of the words to most of the songs, even if you haven't heard them for 20 years. I said before, it would be cool to have our own personal soundtrack that plays along with our lives ... now I'm thinking we already do!!

January 14, 2000 - As I pulled in the driveway tonight, I noticed my son's path in the snow where he walked from the bus to the house.  The path went this way and that, trailing over to the tree, where I saw he had pummeled the tree with snowballs, and back over to the bare lilacs, where it looked like he had consulted with the neighbor boy over something, then it meandered up to the front door, but not before there was evidence of half a snow angle with hints of a backpack attached.  I also saw my prints in the snow from the day before, going to the mail box and back.  A straight line.  I didn't stop to check the bird feeder, or the suet.  I didn't wander over and smack the tree up with snow for no good reason.  I didn't check out the corn feeder for the squirrels.  I went straight out and back, probably with my head down to where I didn't even notice the setting sun last night.  Sigh.  I just put up a post it note that says, 'MAKE SNOW ANGEL' - since it's winter, I can't stop and "smell the roses" but I am sure we should all make time to meander and flail in the snow.

January 18, 2000 - When we were young, my cousin Dave was quite sure there was a certain frequency that could be broadcast from a fighter plane over an enemy nation to drive the inhabitants of said enemy nation insane, or make their ears bleed at least.  I'm not being morbid, mind you - we used to play 'war' a lot as kids! One has to have a plan of attack!  I was just reminded of this fragment of memory after the last Southpark I watched, where Cartman found the note when played just right on a Recorder would made everyone in the world crap their pants.  (OK, so I'm not always SO PROFOUND, OK?)

My daughter is in 'duh' mode overdrive - she left the house tonight for trombone practice with only one pigtail on the right side of her head and no money for the trombone teacher ... I have not heard from my oldest son in a week and doubt if I will in the next three weeks, because his woman is coming home from college .. My youngest son had his check for weekly lunch money in his backpack today, but forgot he did, so he charged his lunch telling the teacher that "Mom had no money" ... Frank the Basset Hound has to pee every half hour, mainly because he knows if he pees, he gets a treat.  He is an old dog.  He is a 63 pound Basset Hound.  He does not lift his leg to pee, he just strikes the famous 'Urinary Pose' and goes at it.   Frank requires regular bathing ... Sparky the Mutt Hound ate all of the cat nip today, finding the bag of it and partaking of the weed.  The cats must have helped, for they are all still sleeping ... Odie the seven pound Miniature Doberman slash Chihuahua just seeks out anything with body heat and wedges himself into the nearest available void and vibrates ...

And I thought I didn't have a life! Geez.

January 24, 2000 - A Happy Birthday to Mr. Daniel Jon!! Turning 30 today ... Turning 30 is a hard thing for a lot of people.   I didn't have problems with it myself. The girls at work got me black balloons and a black coffee cup that says "MID LIFE CRISIS IN PROCESS" - (I still have it, Linda)!  I have learned so much since I turned 30 years old, I would have missed the last almost decade for a thing!  I didn't even have any 'regrets' concerning the fact that half my life was probably over when I turned 30.  However, sometimes I get a twinge of 'wow' when I think of next year, which will be my 40th birthday.  I'll be 51 when my youngest is ready to 'kick out of the nest' ... and my main wish at that age is that I can still tie my own shoes without passing out.  I have some wonderful friends in my life, and they are past the "big four zero mark" and they are just as vital as the day I met them (you know, way back when before television and we walked to school ten miles, uphill both ways ....).

I guess I'm just saying age should be embraced for what it is - another year older means another year on earth, alive. And that in itself is kinda cool, when you think about it.

January 26, 2000 - If I had a penis, it would be hard right now, I'm so proud of myself! Woo Hoo! The printer I had be fussin' and fumin' with for three days is working. FINALLY! I can't tell you what a relief that is! I am also AMAZED that I did it! The configuration was a nightmare! Sigh. (Thank you Jeff, for the inspiration to do it in the first place, and to Keith who is the worlds greatest support person - I owe you brownies)! I love learning new stuff when it is a learning experience that was not intended nor wanted. A present to my brain, of sorts. Sigh.

I took Sparky, the mutt spaz dog, out with me when I fed the birds. What a hoot. She's 32 lbs., but short and long, like a very furry dachshund. To watch her frolic in the snow is a joy. She LOVES to run, but when the snow gets deeper, she leaps through it like a whale through waves. She also will haul objects she finds in the snow to you, in case you might want to play fetch with her (although it's US who does the fetching). She found the old broom that was laying in the 'burn pile' and dragged that thing all over. I wish I had film for my camera. You could almost see it in her eyes - "Man, LOOK AT THIS STICK! Did I do good or WHAT?!" Now that I think of it, the look in her eyes was probably like mine today when the printer worked. "Man, LOOK AT THIS PRINTER! Did I do good or WHAT?!" Woof.

January 31, 2000 - Where did THIS month go? Geez. Time goes faster lately, or I am getting slower. (I'm sure I am the one getting slower).  Time is relative, so it must be me.

I found the neatest soap today.  It smells so good.  I can't wait for my morning shower just to use it.  My daughter used it tonight and the house smelled so wonderful when she opened the bathroom door.  Of course, she does use the hottest water she can manage to coax out of the hot water heater, and manages to peel a layer of paint off the walls with each shower from the sheer steam heat, so I am sure that enhanced the effect of the scent.  It's a slice of that fancy soap you get from gift shops with the shapes inside.  A female moment on my part.  Please, don't tell anyone.

"My employment creates a vacuum of sorts" - (how does that sound, instead of WORK SUCKS)?

The kids and I had an 'art' night, working on my youngest child's ocean project and my daughter's Inuit project.  We made quite a mess out of the living room.  The kittens were a help, also.  If there is a surface to be laid on, they find it.  My son did his project on the Blue Whale, "cause that is the biggest one in the ocean" and he drew one heck of a good  blue whale free hand!   Man!  He's gonna be an artist!  (Well, not according to him; he's aiming to be a garbage man, but a Mom can dream.)   I looked it up in one of our nature books, and he had that whale dead on for a seven year old drawing it.  It was a little buck toothed, but other than that ... and it did my ego good when he told me that it was the female blue whale that is the biggest mammal on earth, like me.  He didn't mean it as it came out, but I nodded my head in a motherly sort of way, and made whale sounds in amazement.  By the time we were all done with our projects, we were all covered with glue, cotton balls, sand, and kitten hair.  We had a very good time.

My oldest is coming over Thursday night with his woman.  It will be nice to see him.  I miss him sometimes a lot.  Other times, I don't miss him at all.  It is weird. I do wonder if anything I 'gave' him while he was growing up, knowledge wise, is helping?  You never use junior high math in real life, do you ever use your Mother's teachings?  Sigh.  Does a Mother ever get to find out?   Does it matter?  We will never know.
February 20, 2000  - We are watching "The Brak Show" on Cartoon Network.  The kids were rolling on the floor.  They loved it, especially my seven year old.  He's still laughing.  I will have to record that.  It's just too strange, which is the humor preference in my house.

I was upset this morning, and was venting on this diary page about people chiding me for being 'corporate' now as opposed to 'production' -  I hear it all the time.  "You don't have to work weekend" or "must be nice to have time off" and the like.  I have logged over 40,000 hours on the production floor in my time.  I was writing about that.  But in reality, why am I defending myself?  It doesn't matter does it.  All I need is to be happy with myself.  Lessons in life never stop.

February 21, 2000 - The day flew by today!  In a way, I'm glad.  That means it is closer to tomorrow, and that means tomorrow is Tuesday, and that means that the kittens will go in to be neutered and their front claws de-clawed.  I never believed in declawing a cat before, but with my own kids being the target of the claws, I changed my mind.  Muffy, our oldest cat and reining alpha eunuch, can bring down a rabbit with one fell swoop and no front claws.  Plus, he is none less the manlier for it, so the kittens, both males, will follow in his footsteps.  I am hoping it will tame down Spazzy some 'cause he seems to be a bit ... um ... horny.  I just caught him humping my seven year old's head while he was asleep on the couch!  Cripes, is nothing sacred?  Nobody is safe, for I've dragged him off of a sleeping Frank and a sleeping Taffy (his brother no less)!!  He has yet to try to take advantage of Muffy, for as I said, Muffy may be claw less, but he has his morals and is still all male.

My youngest is on the couch with a bad headache.  Poor little dude.  When I pulled into the driveway tonight, he had made a snowman all by himself, and it was 'waving' at me.  He had taken out a carrot for the nose and pennies for the eyes.  And he was freezing, 'cause he gave the snowman his hat and his mittens.  But my son was VERY proud, and he was jumping up and down.  We took Polaroid's of him and his snowman.  It was a nice way to come home.  I don't know why he has a headache tonight, unless he's just pooped out.  WE can all relate to that from time to time!

I have to call the dentist tomorrow.  I have a cavity.  It is preventing me from eating ice.  That is not acceptable!  I must have my ice!  I don't ask for much in life.  I ask for ice.  Ice, and Ice Tea.  Ice, Ice Tea, and maybe some cheese.  But that's all I ask for!  Really.

February 22, 2000 - My oldest son called tonight.  He's working at a "Rob and Go" gas station on the night shift now.  A mother can stands so much, then she can stands no more ... my guts hurt.  What can a mother do?  Every mother want their son to #1 - Grow Up - Meaning to survive long enough to reach puberty.  #2 - Have goals and dreams and faith.  #3 - Never call at 8:30 at night at tell them they are working the night shift at a "Rob and Go" that they feature so much on 'American's Most Deadliest Work Places.'

Today at work one of the VP's that I've known since 1979 (he hired me, actually) was outside sizing up one of our little trees.  It was the tree that housed the robins from last spring, and kind of looks like a fountain of green water in it's prime.  It died on it's north side late last summer.  He was examining it, touching the branches.  It was a specially grafted tree that cost 500 dollars, he said.  I asked him, "So, isn't there a durable sturdy tree that is cheap you could plant instead?"  He explained to me that the expensive ones are pretty and delicate, the cheap and durable ones aren't so pretty.  I almost choked!  (It was like a paraphrasing of my life story - I can safely say, I'm cheap and durable, ok?)  Smile.

Sparky the dog is bugging THE HELL out of me.  She knows something is missing.  She is looking for the kittens!  (They survived the whacking and declawing, for all those concerned.  I called this afternoon.  All is well.  I can pick them up Thursday afternoon).  Sparky keeps staring at the litter box as if she is waiting for them to come out.  She'll then run to me and 'talk' in her doggie way then run around in a panic.  Muffy, on the other hand, has his feet up on the arm of the Lazy Boy smoking a Cigar and sipping at a snifter of brandy, enjoying his single cat status once again.

February 26, 2000 - Ah, the weather has been quite warm the last few days!  I had the windows open yesterday.  My kids were home sick, so it part it was to air out the stench of illness, but also because it was so warm.  It does not smell like spring yet, though.  It did smell like the dog's potty 'lot' which is to the south of the house.  The wind was blowing hard, so it wasn't too bad.  The driveway is a patch of quicksand mud.  The roads are breaking up.  The dreaded signs for bus riders are popping up - "Seasonal Road Limits In Effect" - ewwwwwww!  Everyone who grew up in the North East knows that term too well.  The time of year all the kids on the bus are forced to sit with the nearest neighbor kid.  (Normally not the kid of their choice).  It could snow tomorrow, but for now I am enjoying this warm weather!

My Sandhill Cranes are back!  Right on schedule.  I do so enjoy hearing their calls and I love it when they get down n dirty and do the 'dance.'  For some odd reason, it is a comfort to me. 

The kittens are home, and limping, but recovering well.  Spazzy runs like he has a corn cob up his butt, plus on his tippie toes, so he constantly looks as if he's running downhill.  They are not yet used to the fact they have no front claws.  More than once they've stretched out leisurely and started to slip off a chair, and it's a frenzy of paws as they try to catch themselves.  It doesn't work.  They fall.  They've taken to sleeping low to the ground.
March 3, 2000 - Oh, I am happy that February is over!  I hate typing and saying that month's name.  Never did like it.  As a Second Grader, I think I got it wrong on several papers.  Maybe that's the reason.

Spring is just around the corner.  I can tell by the many many splats of road kill on the road.  I try not to run over the poor deceased critters that have met their fate on the highways.  It just seems like running over a dead animal is adding insult to injury, doesn't it?   There have been so many skunks!  My goodness!  A bumper year for skunk carcass' or carcci, however you spell that.  My youngest son and I have seen tons of deer scampering across the road on the way to Day Care.  He thinks it's neat.  Seeing a deer up close is a neat thing.  Except when it's a kamikaze mission.  I did that to my first born.  It was summer, and my oldest was only around three years old.  Out for a Sunday drive near the end of summer, it was decided to treat my son to Deer Forest, a park where they have deer and chickens and Story Book land.  When I was a kid, I remember there were always tons of people there, and we could meander through the fenced in herd of deer with our ice cream cups full of deer food, petting them and having a wonderful time.  I wanted this for my son;  to pet the nice deer and feel at 'one' with nature!  Apparently though, twenty years is a long time for a recreational park and business at Deer Forest had dropped off quite a bit, being the end of summer and all, and the place was quite worn down and dilapidated.  It cost seven dollars a piece to get in to the park, which was outrageous to me in 1984!  The fee was paid, in the anticipation of a memorable experience.  Then we entered the park.  No one was there! Just us and the chickens!  We got my son an ice cream cup full of deer food, and shoved him into the fenced area, thinking, "...he will love this interchange with the nice deer...." when all of a sudden there was the sound similar to that of an F15's after burners - HAAAWWWUUUUUUSSSHHH  - and  my son being was being pulled around by a mob of angry deer all vying for the food.  They pulled his shirt with their teeth, hoofed his poor little body, and were working on his hair before we could drag him away from the crazed herd.  Sigh.  We don't talk about that day much.  Nope.  Oh, on occasion, we wonder what went wrong, but mostly we just try to forget.

Now, the tough question.  Did March come in like a lion or a lamb?  I expect your essays regarding this subject in my mailbox by noon tomorrow.  Remember when John Belushi did the editorial on March 'coming in like a lion...' on Saturday Night Live's "Weekend Update"?   (Man, am I old or what)?   I am thinking it came in like a marmoset this year.

March 12,2000 - Well, the results are in - March came in like a lion with a terrible case of asthma ...

I got my annual review at work on Friday. It's the first time in a long time I got an 'average' rating.  On a scale of 1 - 5, I got a 3.  Kind of like getting a "C" on an assignment at school.  The last time I got a 'C' was in 12th grade Physics class.  (You know, the class that was held during the "you didn't eat breakfast so now you are having a lull and you graduate in a few months anyway and you are a teenager on top of that" period).   I slept most of the year in that class.  In that case, a "C" was a blessing, considering.

But not often does this woman get rated as 'average' so it's hard for me to deal with.  Very hard.  I thought a lot about this weekend.  A rating system in itself is a standardized thing.  A computerized rating system on top of that is based on a program that somebody wrote in a numeric machine language to cover all circumstances and generalize.  You have to start somewhere, right?   One must consider oneself, personally, inside their own heart/brain when faced with a situation like this.  You have to think of it on your own personal terms.  So I got a 'C' from my boss and a standardized program for ONE of the jobs I do.  If that software package could possibly take into consideration ALL that I do on a daily basis, I am sure I would have earned at least an "A - " (for there is always room for improvement unless you are God).

If one was rating something like, oh, let's say - climbing a mountain, you'd have to consider all the factors which a software package and sometimes your own boss or his bosses cannot take into consideration.  If I climbed a mountain and lived to tell about it, then of course I'd get an "B" since I am overweight, out of shape, and afraid of heights, plus the fact that I have no need to climb a mountain at this time (marked down of course from an "A" for the swearing I'd be doing on the way up).  Frankly, I can get a nosebleed just fine from the lack of humidity in my house let alone the lack of oxygen factor at higher elevations, so climbing a mountain for me would be an effort, an extra, and deserving of a higher grade.  But, let's say I was a mountain goat;  to get a "C" for climbing a mountain I'd have to be a really bitchy mountain goat with a bad attitude.

I guess what I'm trying to say and perhaps even convince myself of,  is that it  is how YOU perceive yourself that is important.  If you've worked your ass off on something and you are proud of what you did, then that is the only rating you need worry about.  If you are proud of YOURSELF (which, by the way, you have a right to be from time to time) then be proud inside and know how hard you worked or how much of a challenge you overcame to get to where you are.  In the long run, it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of you, even some bitchy mountain goat, it's how you view yourself.

The other day I was reaching for something on the top shelf of my cupboards when I sneezed and literally heard something in my left side go "rippppppp" and the pain was almost as bad as giving birth.  I thought it was healed up, but this morning, I sneezed (not thinking to try to ease my left side in any way during the snotting process) and this time I didn't hear I rip, I just felt a liquid rushing bulge.  Too much pain.  I almost fainted.  And since I never sneeze just once, I went through this pain over and over.  I think the only thing that kept me from fainting was the fact my youngest son was explaining to me the finer details of his Pokemon drawing.  I will be calling the doctor tomorrow.  I knew this day would come ... happens to the best of us.  "Stop this human, we wanna get out" my internal organs are screaming!

March 17, 2000 - Top O The Mornin To Ya!  Happy FRIDAY!  Sometimes weeks drag on and on, don't they?

The 'rip' I heard when I sneezed the other day was the cracking of a rib.  Not even 40 yet, and I'm falling apart!  Obviously, it was a sign from above that I am not consuming enough calcium.  I backed off of the calcium after passing the kidney stone when I was pregnant for my youngest.  Guess it's time this old girl started drinking her milk.  Got Milk?  Smile.

There was a diaper delivery truck broken down along the road yesterday.  "DIAPER DOWN!! DIAPER DOWN!!"  (Well, I imagine the guy would radio in to headquarters!  If it were me, I'd have fun with it.)  Yesterday would not have been a good loose bowel day for babies in this area.

March 19, 2000 - A relatively relaxing weekend.  I didn't leave the house once.  I rested my rib.  I defrosted the freezer.  I washed bedding and watched Southpark.  I did nothing, really.  I wasted 48 hours of my life.  Now, that was a weekend!

It rained a lot today.  The driveway is a mucky pit of goo.  My only hope of getting out in the morning is that it freezes tonight.  Cross your fingers.  Of course, this is really bad and quite selfish of me.  The trees are already budding and crocus are croaking, and tulips are pushing up ... freezing is not good.

Have you ever worried over your life?  How many people out there actually will admit to worrying about being scared of their own 'end' or the end of a loved one?  It seems futile, really, if you think on it too hard;  this life of ours.  We are born, we live, we die.  Not much to shoot for there unless you are extremely faithful to a superior being or have a knowledge of things 'beyond' this life.  So you have choices.  You can worry your life away, fretting about the end and then all too soon  it's here, and all you did was lose your life worrying about the end of it.  Or, you can just live your life to the best of your ability, knowing that it doesn't really matter that you make Vice President or CEO at any company, really, because titles are actually meaningless in the big picture of things.  You can be happy with yourself as you are instead of wasting time being something for someone who could care less.  You can be in awe of the sunrise or the sunset or the stars at night, and enjoy the view.  You can skip down the driveway to get the mail singing your heart out or jump in a mud puddle and splatter mud on your shoes with the glee of a child.  We have many options concerning our lives as humans.    I guess the art of it all is taking it one day at a time, stopping to smell the roses without getting pricked by the thorns.

March 20, 2000 - My son and daughter got into a wrestling match, and my son ended up pinching the skin near his eye with his glasses and getting a huge bruise above his eye, as well as putting his frames on his glasses way out of whack.  I will need to take them both in for adjustment.  Just two weeks ago the frames broke.  The eye doctor is going to know our name well.  My initial reaction was to scream at both of them like a crazed maniac threatening to take away their right to breathe.  I just cannot afford new glasses right now, plus my 'baby' got bruises and my daughter was acting like a typical older sibling, claiming she didn't do anything while repeatedly smashing his head against the wood part on the couch.

When I got home tonight, the first thing that hit me was the stench from Frank's obvious lack of bladder control, so only three minutes in the door, I am steam cleaning the carpet pretending I can't hear the yells of "when is dinner?" and "what's for dinner?"   I could end this problem, the urine problem, by having Frank put to sleep, but who can look a 10 year old 65 pound basset hound in the eye and even think of ending his life?  Not me. So I steam clean.

As I type this, my daughter is upstairs practicing her trombone, and she's playing "16 Miles on the Erie Canal..." and I have to laugh.  That song makes me think of Tennessee Ernie Ford for some reason, you know - "you load 16 tons, what do you get, another day older and deeper in dept...." and maybe Erie reminds me of Ernie or 16 stands out in my mind, who knows.  Anyway, it made me laugh.  I suppose it's ok if the kids breathe again.

I hope all the above mood swinging is a sign of PMS.  It has been nigh on three months since I had a normal 'cycle' and I wouldn't mind having one.  Makes me feel like a natural woman, it does (but then again, so would having sex, but I digress) and I feel cheated to go through the bitchy part without the bleeding to death part.  I know now that it's a controllable thing - the mood swings from PMS.  An occasional outburst is gonna happen, I suppose.  But in reality, you gotta laugh at the Tennessee 'Erie' Ford stuff, too.  I actually believe that if you give into them, the mood swings, that they will suck out all the bad emotion you had pent up for years and draw upon them.  (Hmmmm, now I wonder if I'm repressing bad things, since I am not giving in.  Oh my, what a quandary!  What to do?  What to do?  Oh my stars........).

Today was the vernal equinox.  I wonder if Nancy got her egg to stand on it's end?  I wonder if I spelled equinox right?

March 22, 2000 - Down on the corner is a sign that says "now taking orders for chicks" - wonder how many young men have laughed at that one?  Of course it's a feed/seed/grain store, but still ...  It makes me chuckle.

I was pondering the current generation gap between myself and my kids.  My Mom was 40 years old and my dad was 49 when I was born.   They had been raised during the Depression then World War Two so I heard many stories of suffering and doing without.  They taught me many things, though.  (I can make a dinner out of a clump of field dirt if necessary;  thirty dinners from a can of SPAM, and other neat tricks of the less fortunate).

When it came to 'current' technology of the seventies, the gap between my parents and myself was way too obvious as well as the ever changing roles of males and females.  I guess what I am trying to say is that we had legitimated, notarized, government approved  "gaps" in our musical tastes and general thought processes.  Following example of different thought processes - I was almost 18 before my mom attempted 'the talk' - and it went exactly like this:

My Mom - "Do you know where babies come from?"
Me - "Well, duh - Yes!"
My Mom "Good, let us never speak of this again..."

I do not think the generation gap between my children and myself is like that.  I started squirting them out when I was 20 years old.  They were raised on rock and roll "Saturday Night Live" style humor.   Currently we trade CD's of music, since for the most part we like the same music.  We like the same TV shows.  We all fight over the computer and kids are all trained on computers and keyboarding  in school starting in Kindergarten.  (My Mom would throw her arms up in the sign of a cross and pray whenever anyone would mention the word 'computer').

So it bothered deeply that I didn't have anything to 'bitch' about when it came to generation type gaps between myself and my children.  It's my kids who are always yelling at ME to turn down the music or the TV volume.  It's my children who yell at ME about acting my age in public.

I was feeling cheated as a parent.  What did I have to complain about my children with?????  Then in bed last night, I was thinking on this subject and it dawned on me we DO have some generation gaps.  How many of our children would know how to dial a rotary phone?  I believe my oldest son, when on his first solo road trip, became quite confused over a rotary dial pay phone - hence I received no phone call.   I think if our children saw an actual vinyl album, they might attempt to launch it as a new type of slim line Frisbee.  I know for a fact that I am the only one who still knows how to change the television channels by hand, this being proved after one of the many "Mom-the-dog-ate-the-remote" incidents.  Plus, what is the fascination of the younger generation with EuroPop?  Don't these kids realize that it's just the transmission of Disco finally bouncing off of Britain and coming back?  Euro-Pop Dance Music is the TeleTubbies of modern Pop music - repetitive dance rhythm.  Now in MY day, we had eight tracks and the only repetitive rhythm we needed was the tracks changing mid song,  and we LIKED it!   We only had black and white TV and we used our minds to imagine the colors and we only could receive three local channels and we had to turn the channels by hand, and we LIKED it!  And what's up with these video games.  When I was a kid, we had Atari PONG and that was cutting edge, and we LIKED it!

So I feel better now because all in all I guess we still have a 'gap' of some sort, (and as my daughter knows, it's located on the second story of the local shopping mall.)

March 27, 2000 - This morning started out with a sense of foreboding.  I can't explain why.  I felt cautious and leery.  Just plain strange.  I felt like I should draw my children close to me like a mother bird - cover my fledglings with my feathers and hide in the nest until the storm passes.  It could be a lingering feeling from odd/bad dream I had last night or it could be due to all the bad news in the world.  When did it become acceptable that children have no idea that death is final ... and killing is something fun?   When did the lack of remorse for horrible crimes become so rampant and why did we as a society let it happen?  Sigh.  It's all very sad.  This morning it also seemed to me that there are more and more white crosses along side the road to mark a loved one's final departing place.  Life is so fleeting.  It would almost be acceptable to me if we were like the kamikaze squirrels or opossums that make a mad dash across the road at night, only to end up victim of a passing vehicle and dinner the next day for the crows and vultures.  That would at least be a form of the 'circle' of life.  That is something we as humans could understand better, I think.  It is just when it comes to us, personally, that we can't see the sense in the ending of it all.  Perhaps we still have some evolving to do.  The feeling of sadness and foreboding and deep feelings passed by this afternoon.  Reality turned into merely the fact I had not thought of a thing for dinner - the babies would be hungry when I got home, and me with no worms were de-thawed.  Peep.

I have always been 'behind the times' on a lot of things.  I didn't go through my rebellious stage of my teen years until I was 36.  I had to figure out where babies came from after I had seen my first naked male picture, and did the math.  I never saw the little trick of "hey, do you like see food" until I was 30, and Rhonda showed me at work.  I laughed so hard I peed my pants.  As you can see, I tend to lag in the area of "What's Hot and What's Not".   So, when the new vending machine company had Susan B. Anthony dollar coins in the change machine, I first thought I was being short changed when I changed out a five.  Once I figured out it was a dollar coin and not a quarter, I was elated!  Never before had I seen something so cool!  I went and got two ten dollar bills out of my purse, and changed those.  I was stinking rich in Susan B. Anthony dollar coins.  I felt like a kid with a bag full of new shiny marbles.   I used them to pay for everything.   A burger at Burger King, a greeting card at the Drug Store.  I was just waiting with my prepared "no, it's not a quarter!" speech for someone to say, "Hey, this is a quarter!"  No one ever said that to me.  They all took the coin type dollar like it was a normal, everyday thing.  I was confused.  It wasn't until later when I was looking through my collection of them and found one dated '1998 ' that I realized, once again, I was a bit behind the times.  Now I jingle when I walk, but hey, not from quarters!

March 29, 2000 - My oldest son was supposed to come over last night with his girlfriend for dinner.  My youngest son sat at the window waiting ... and waiting ... Big brother never did show up last night.  Little brother got a red mark on his chin from waiting for big brother at the window.  Around 8:30 he finally said, "Mom, I miss him.  I love him, you know."  It almost broke my heart!  Sigh.  It brought tears to my eyes.   (Until today, when I got home from work.  My oldest was here borrowing a few things.  Little brother was jumping up and down and screaming at his big brother.  Seems the concern over him coming over originally was due to some Gameboy attachment he had promised to let little brother use).  Sigh.  It was getting too mushy for me anyway ... I am a bit relieved it was all "virtual greed" induced.

Even with this cold spell, it is officially SPRING!!  I can tell due to all the dead worm bodies all over the sidewalk after it rained!  The robins are out eating the worms that didn't drown from the rain.  The grass is a bright green in various spots.  Daffodils are up in people's yards.  The peepers are out, too.  I love that sound ... froggies in love singing in the nearest swamp.  ( ... and where I live, everywhere is the nearest swamp).

Marci, a friend of mine, sent me the nicest letter about my web page.  It made me cry 'cause it made me happy.  I suggested to Marci that she also do a 'diary' of sorts, for her writing style is quite humorously true in itself.  I know this thing has been a godsend for me.  Being able to talk to no one in particular about nothing in particular.  That's all I need, this web page.  Well, this web page and my Paxil.  Ok, this web page and Paxil and that chocolate over there ... but that's all I need!   Paxil, this web page and chocolate - I lack for nothing.

I talked to Nancy the other night.  She forgot to balance her egg on the vernal equinox this year.  But she can do it!  It has been recorded in the history books around the world!  One of my childhood fears was that the eggs would grow legs during the night in the fridge, and we'd all wake up with yolk all over our faces.  I never would eat yolks as a kid.  Ahhhh ... now it all makes sense.  The fear and loathing of yolks!  My family never got attacked by eggs in the wee hours of the morning but that didn't stop me from enjoying the act of boiling the evil things around Easter time.

It's funny how, when you love someone so much that one negative word from them can make you sad.  What is funnier is that we allow ourselves to feel bad over one negative word.  A 'catch 22' of sorts.  Reminds me of the 'dandelion' theory ... a young child finds a dandelion in the yard and to the child it is beautiful.  So the child brings the dandelion to the Mother knowing how much he loves his Mom and how pretty the flower is and how much she will surely enjoy it!  The mother says thanks you and sticks it in a glass and puts it out for show.  During the night the dandelion folds up and dies.  In the morning, the child is devastated.  His offering of love lays dead in a glass of water.  All that work for nothing ... ain't that life?

I have 'liar' bumps on my tongue.  You know, those cold sores for tongues that hurt like the dickens and you can't help but play with them with your tongue or poke at them with your fingers.  Maybe they are infected taste buds or something - and you poke and poke and it hurts and you poke ....  sigh.  When we would run to our mom as kids and tell her we had a sore on our tongue, she would say "must be you told a lie!"   I'd rather my nose would grow longer as in Pinochio than have a bump on my tongue.  Wives tales or Fairy Tales ... next on Maury Povich.
April 4, 2000 - Hey, how did March go out?  Like a lion?  Damnit, I missed it!  I was working all weekend.  Sigh.

Today on the way back from lunch I was taking remote side roads from my house, admiring all the daffodils and gas line flags that are in bloom this time of year when the song "La Vida Loca" by that nice Ricky -Loose-Rear Martin came on the radio, and it amused me to no end.  The tens of squirrels ahead of me dodging here and there across the road seemed to be doing so to the beat of the music!  My own little rodent music video! There was one little black one that looked like he just got out of bed.  His hair was sticking straight up all over his head, his tail was mangy, and he would go for the road, run back to the side, go for the road, run back ... He needed coffee or therapy.

I was staring at my hair in the mirror on Monday, thinking how fast it grows out lately.  I swear I just had the roots shaded to match the rest of it, and here I was again looking like John Arbuckle on Garfield again!  After the dreaded Halloween "color your hair black like an idiot" incident of '98, my hair keeps coming in darker and darker.  I used to be a nice Strawberry Blonde color.  Now it's just a mousy brown.  I kept having it colored to be like it USED to be.  It just finally dawned on me I was doing it all wrong.  I should just accept it the color it WANTS to be!  Now when I have a bug up my butt to have my hair done, it has to be done NOW!  I called all my regular places and they were not open on Monday's.  So I got in my car and tried a newer place I had seen in town.  I walked in, since they were open, and there was a former class mate of mine.  "Jackie?" I asked.  "Sandy?" she replied.  "Can you do me?"  I asked.  "Sit down!" she said.  Jackie took me back to the color my hair wants to be, and we had a lovely talk in the meantime.  We both said how much fun we had at our 20th class reunion.  How after all those years, the tier caste system of "who's who" is gone ... and we can finally enjoy each other for who we really are.  Time is a wonderful equalizer - we lose hair, gain weight, get gray.  We all fart, burp, hack up fur balls, cry, laugh and live.   It's amazing.

April 6, 2000 - Today is a vacation day for me.  The kittens and Sparky decided it was time for me to wake up any way.  So much for sleeping in.  I was awaken to the sound of herding house pets running up and down the stairs like idiots.  Sparky would chase the cats up and the cats would chase Sparky down.  I had big plans for today.  My youngest decided he was deathly ill with a sore throat and headache at the last minute before school.  When I checked his throat with a flashlight, hoping to find nothing so I could send him to school without guilt on my part, his throat was covered with white spots and his tonsils were huge.  Sigh.  I guess he did have something.  He laid on the couch, sprawled out as if this was his last famous final scene, looking at me with innocent child like eyes.  "OK, you can stay home, BUT you are spending the day on the couch!"  I'll be damned if he hasn't stayed put all day long!  I still carried on with most of my plans today.  I had a dire need to clean up the yard and the fire pit where we have annual bonfires and sacrifice a piece of furniture.  We fondly call the "burn a couch" parties.  After all these years the fire pit was more of a mound with all the skeletal remains of the bonfire victims over the years.  I managed to haul all the old metal frames up to the dumpster with little or no damage to myself.  I picked up all the half chopped up Hot Wheel cars on the way, along with the beheaded army men and old amputee dolls.

It's quite windy here today.  I swear this state has the most unpredictable PMS weather patterns in the whole United States.  I would NOT want to be a meteorologist here for all the money in the world.  You'd have better luck predicting tonight's winning lottery numbers.

I was cleaning up this morning and noticed the tube of Preparation H on my desk.  "What in the world is ..." I started to wonder.  Then it hit me.  Last night, in the dark of the living room, I THOUGHT I was putting Mycitracin on my sore chin.  DUH.  No wonder my chin felt less swollen and didn't itch or burn ...

Remember playing with Silly Putty as a kid?  I remember thinking how cool it was as a child to copy the Sunday comic by smashing Silly Putty all over them.  What a hoot!  All that fun in an egg!  My son got some Sparkle Silly Putty the other day and has played with it non stop since then.  He's entertained us with facial alterations a la Putty, hours of searching for it after a demonstration of it's bouncing capacity, and he too was amazed at the fact you could smush it on a comic in the newspaper and pull it up and copy it.  He left it out of the egg downstairs last night up by the VCR.  On one of my many runs to the potty during the night, I saw his kitten, Spazzy, up by the VCR.  I walked over and pulled him down, only to find him with a wad of Putty in his mouth.  Half of it was GONE!  The stupid cat ate the Putty.  I do not look forward to cleaning the litter box the next few days!!!

April 10, 2000 - Today is a Monday.  Monday's suck.  Suck, Monday, Suck.  See Monday Suck ... Sigh.

Shania Twain has several songs out that crossed over from the country stations to the pop station my daughter and son listen to.  The other day I overheard my son playing in the living room and singing, "Man, I feel like a woman! ... "  One of those moments you wish you could rewind and play over and over.  I shouted at him from the kitchen "you feel like a WHAT?"  He just cocked his head and smiled.

I have heard from two old classmates, Brian and Tammie!  WooHoo!  How wonderful to hear from people you held dear so many years ago.  It did me good, I tells ya.  I felt alive all weekend.  The memories alone are priceless.  Tammie and her Mom made my Surprise 17th Birthday Party birthday cake.  It was beautiful!!  The flowers looked kinda like mums, and they were purple and other colors ... it was a cool cake.  Brian and I went to a movie alone once.  That was fun.  Normally we were always in a herd, and never alone.  Being alone with Brian was kinda cool for a change.  I am very happy I am finally in touch with them again after 20 years!!  I always admired Tammie and Brian for tolerating me as well as they did back then.  We all came from fairly religious families but I was more of a 'rebel' and loud and vocal, yet I always felt accepted by those two, even knowing I probably embarrassed them enough times to kill a dog.  Hey, I never said it then, you two, but THANK YOU!

April 11, 2000 - There is a cute sign at the plant nursery in town.  It says "Mother Nature ... Isn't She a Hoot?"  I had to laugh.   She sure keeps us guessing lately, that's for sure!  Snow then Sun, then Snow and Rain then Wind and Mud, then Snow and Slush then ... (you get the picture).  Everyone has a cold 'round these parts.  Sneeze and Snot and Blow and Wipe and Hack and ....

I am SICK of skirts!   Boy, howdy - I've had it!!!  A person can stand just so much.  First there was the time I tripped on the sidewalk in town, and fell flat on my face, flinging my car keys half a block in front of me and mooning the poor UPS man that had the luck to be directly behind me down the street.  (Now, back then mind you, I believed that when they said 'panty hose' there was no need for panties).  Then there was the time I mooned the people at work outside due to an blast of wind swirling around the corner of the building.  I started wearing real underwear after that one.  Of course, there was the time I was on the way out of the Beauty Shop and my skirt caught an updraft and completely 'bloomed' out in all directions then decided to impale itself on the metal door handle.  So there I stand all exposed whilst I wrestle my skirt off the door.  (It was noontime downtown).  Each time this happened, people were struck with laughter.  Laughing with me, not at me - I'm sure.  Oh, yeah - there was the windy day flashing in honor of the new Food Vendor Company.  What a welcome, aye?  But today just pushed me over the edge.  I don't mind showing my tush off apparently seeing as I have done it so much.  Accidents happen, you know?  But today - I topped myself.  I had been on a long help call at work AFTER my second cup of coffee.  I had to GO and go bad!  As soon as the call was over, I flew to the potty.  Ah, relief, finally.  I hurried and washed my hands and left the bathroom.  I have tried retracing my steps after the bathroom break, but can't remember exactly where I went.  I did end up talking to my coworker Judy, leaning on her door casing that leads into her office as we talked.  My boss just happened to fly out of his office en-route somewhere, when he stopped, made a face that will go down into history, and made "puling' a wedgie out of my butt" motions to me.  I said, "What?  You?" thinking he had an underwear problem.  "No, YOU!"  It turns out my skirt was neatly tucked up into my underwear in the back.  By then I was laughing, Judy was laughing, and Cathy came around the corner and laughed as she turned red.  "Look, I'm embarrassed for you" she said.  Celia started laughing, Booger poked his head over the cube near us and rolled his eyes, and Jane joined in the fun.  It went downhill from there.  Sigh.  It was funny, I must admit.  The face my boss made was even funnier.  It was the "cripes, woman, do I have to watch you every minute of the day?" look.   I am getting underwear that has "this space for rent" on them or "hey, how's my driving?"  Better yet, I came up with a wonderful new product!!  The "Skirt Alert 2000" which would be a small electronic eye one would attach to their leg at a certain level, and if one's skirt rose above that level, an alarm would go off.  Heck, it's been real windy lately, maybe I'll just make it vibrate ...

April 20, 2000 - The last week or so has been very interesting.  So interesting, I have not had time nor the need to 'vent' in my diary here.  That scares me!  What is this thing called 'life' and 'living' .... hmmmmmmmm ... must give us pause or should I say 'paws'!!!

Last weekend, my brother in law stopped to pick up my daughter for an overnight visit with her most favorite cousin in the whole world.  Jory and I talked for a while outside, not even considering the girls or their whereabouts.  We did notice them coming back up to the house panting like they had run the Boston Marathon with Odie in tow.  Apparently Odie had made a break for the back yard then continued he freedom quest (with the girls in hot pursuit) through the woods and people yards to the next street!  (He's fast for an old doggie).  They finally caught him as he was running in circles trying to decide which tree to mark.  My daughter had him safely tucked under her left armpit, giving him a good motherly lecture all the way back up from the back.  Sparky had gone along on this quest to find Odie, nipping at his back legs to slow his progress.  All returned safe - even though I never knew they were gone!!!  Sigh.  How is THAT for parenting skills?

Later that night my friend Sue came over to watch an episode of Mystery Science Theater.  We entertained her by finding and removing tics on Sparky that Sparky no doubt got from the romp in the woods.  You know how it is when you have dogs ... you find one tic or twenty on one dog, all must get the thorough going over then you have to check out yourself and the kids and the cats and then you itch just thinking about tics and are sure every little movement on your skin is a tic and ....  I am sure Sue will just FLY over here next time she's invited for the sheer thrill of the parasite community alone!

I was VERY proud of my daughter this week.  She did something I didn't think she would ever do.  One doesn't prepare one's child for such an incident, so it all turned out fine, and I beat my chest with pride.  The eldest and all Holy Male Muffy the cat decided that he was bringing lunch indoors the other day.  Upon arriving home from school, my daughter opened up the door and let him is, as is par for the course, since he walks out with us in the morning to do manly cat things.  He did not rub up against her like normal.  He streaked past her to get in the house.  She followed him in knowing something was up.  He had a dazed and confused sparrow in his mouth!  He plunked it down on the floor next to my bed and began hissing for the sake of hearing himself hiss, I suppose, for the other kittens were nowhere around at the time.  The hissing made them come see what all the noise was about.  The bird laid still and wide eyed.  She knew he was still alive ... "I saw him BLINK!!!"   My daughter at first did a spaz dance of "ohmygodwhatdoIdo?" but finally calmed down enough to put the two younger cats in the bathroom and shut the door.  She then got a tupperware bowl and came up to Muffy and his prey and distracted him enough to put the bowl over the bird.  Then sliding a lid under the bowl, the bird was taken outside and set free.  Mr. Sparrow hopped and flapped for a while, but finally took flight.  My daughter was very happy to see him alive and well and I was very proud that she even processed the situation in the first place.  Her first 'major' crisis.  Sure, it's small, but she reacted well.  Things like this renew a parents hopes.  I am almost sure now that if fire broke out while she was alone she wouldn't stay in the house freaking out.  I believe she would react correctly and RUN.

Then, just a few days ago, I pull into the drive way with the music loud and feeling relatively happy to be home.  I swung the door open and PLOP, into my lap springs a spotted tan and brown hunting dog!  He was ever so happy to see me.  He was ever so sure that I was 'his' and he should be ever so happy to welcome me home.  I pushed him off my lap.  My son and next door neighbor boy came running up and petted him.  "Can we keep him, Mom?"  my son asked.  "Uh, I doubt it very much," I said as the dog formerly introduced himself with a nose up the skirt.  He followed me up to the door and I had to push him back as I came in.  I threw my purse down and called for my daughter.  "We gotta get his tag numbers and call someone" I said, sounding very 'in control' as I grabbed a pen and paper, shoved some doggie treats in my pocket and told my daughter to get her shoes on to help.  We went out and called "here's doggggggie" and he bounded up to us with sheer joy.  Bounded may not be the right term.  He came at gallop near light speed and side swiped my daughter, leaving a dark pungent smear of brown.  Apparently to show his happiness he had decided to go dab on some doggie style perfume from the neighbor's yard.  He stunk.  He proudly wore a head full of poop and the rolling had also smeared the feces all over the dog tags!  "Yuk, Ewwwwww" said my daughter.  "Yuk, Gross" said me.  "He STINKS Mom!"  said my daughter.  "Yeah, I noticed that!" said me.  "Um, like - EWWWWWW!!!" gagged my daughter.  "Sigh ..." said me.  I told her to pet him while I got the tag information.  Now, it this were her little brother she would have run screaming and condemning him to the bowels of bloody hell and she would not have touched him.  But this was an ANIMAL, and she is an animal lover.  She would take a bullet for a mouse.  She'd throw herself in front of an oncoming truck for a cat.  So he bravely grabbed his gooey smelly collar and patted is stinky gunky head while I pawed through the crap on his tags.  He had smelled the treats in my pocket and was covering my side with his perfumed head looking for them.  We were dealing with rabies license number 5050.  My daughter and I threw the treats out in the yard for Mr. 5050, and slid back in the house to wash up.  I called the number of the Veterinarians on the tag.  It was three minutes after six.  They closed at six.  Nobody would answer.   I called Animal Control.  Nobody answered there either.  For the rest of the evening, Mr. 5050 would stand on his back legs looking in the doors and windows of the rooms we were in, scaring us half to death to see a 'face' looking in on us.  After darkness set in, my daughter paced back and forth worrying about him, staring out the windows trying to find him.  He wasn't around in the morning.  I hope he found his home and took a nice hot bath.

We have had so much rain last night and today that the driveway is flooded.  Interestingly enough, though, it has been a windfall of good luck for my youngest son.  All the lost plastic action figures that were buried in the dust of the driveway are now afloat and waiting for rescue.  He has a tough time of it this time of year.  They practice tornado drills at school and he sees all the "tornado season do's and don'ts" on the T.V.  This is his big 'fear' as a child.  Storms.  All children go through one or two major fears.  For my daughter it was the fear of aliens.  (My oldest son and the neighbor girl had convinced her when she was six that aliens were everywhere, lurking and waiting to take her.  Siblings!  Oye!)  She would shriek in terror every time a plane passed over head knowing it was the 'mother ship' for sure!  (We live in a flight path to the local airport, so the shrieking was loud and frequent).  She eventually grew out of this and with age comes wisdom.  Of course, she knows now, "Aliens would not arrive via Northwest Airlines!!"  My oldest son's fear was of the dark and little men running on his walls at night.  He was convinced that they did that.  Those types of fear are easier to handle - you can show scientific evidence about aliens and make up better soothing stories to calm a child's nerves;  you can buy a night light and a fly swatter for a child to whack the little men - but calming a child's nerves about weather is much harder.  It is there.  You can't control weather.  You cannot make up cute funny stories or get rid of bad weather with a fly swatter or a night light.  Sigh.  I love storms, personally.  The majestic power of weather is to be respected and appreciated as far as I am concerned.  When it's stormy weather, I anticipate 42 trips up and down the stairs after my 'baby' is sent to bed, just to assure him all is well.  I try to point out all the good features of a good spring/summer storm - the rain is good for trees, plants, and plastic figures embedded in dirt.  The lightening is far 'cooler' than any light show one could see, even if attending a Pink Floyd concert. The clouds dance circles around each other in 50 shades of gray ... oh, and one more thing.  It's one of the best  reasons to snuggle in the dark with your youngest child.  Smile.

April 23, 2000 - Happy Easter!  As is tradition, we celebrated the holiday by losing a major appliance.  It always happens every year.  One year it was the fridge.  Another year it was an exploding dryer.  Another, the washer.  This year, the vacuum cleaner died.  Sigh.  I lay in bed worrying about it the whole week before Easter;  What is going to blow up/break down this year?  I am seldom disappointed.  It is something I could safely bet on.  It's as if my appliances must act out the last days of Christ.  I had a wonderful Sunday School teacher who once said, "praising and honoring the Lord is sometimes done in odd and personal ways ..." and my appliances have proved it such.

The appliance "phenomenon" reminds me slightly of something from high school days.  My best friend Vickie and I would drive around all over the place in my green Pinto wagon, usually late at night.  I don't even remember if we were going anywhere in particular most of the time.  We just drove.  Sometimes we drank and drove, listening to the eight track with the Cars first release or ToTo.  Sometimes we would just listen to the radio.  Then it happened one night  ... we heard the song by Supertramp "Take the Long Way Home" and with the first note struck, (you remember that first note, it hung in the air like an organ chord or bell), the points on my Pinto would break.  Everytime.  There we would be, stranded on some back road with broken points.  One could chalk this up to a coincidence had it only happened once or twice.  It didn't.  It happened more than twice.  Vickie and loved the song, mind you.  So did many people, for they played it A LOT.  It got so bad that I just carried extra points in my glove compartment.  Dad showed me how to gap them properly and install them.  One night, we heard 'the note' - both of us flying to push the buttons on the radio, but it was too late.  The car died.  We were on a dirt road in the dusk.  I was mad!  Not because of the points so much as the fact there were a group of motorcycle riders along the side of the road up ahead.  Big hairy motor cycle riders.  Vickie and I were young cute females.  There was an element of fear here.  But instead of being too scared, I was MAD.  I got out of the car, swearing loudly, and threw the hood up.  Two of the big hairy biker men came up.  "You girls got some car trouble?" said the nice hairy big biker men.   "No, the damned points just broke is all, mumble cuss mumble" I replied to the hairy men.  I got an extra set of points and the feeler gage out of the glove compartment.  "She's right" said one of the biker men, looking under the hood.  "We'll do that for you" said the other hairy man.  I gladly let them change my points.  It was then Vickie and I were ready to become nuns if we came through this alive.   (Vickie and I swore to become nuns many times if we lived through things back then, now that I think about it!  Smile).  The nice hairy biker men let us drive away alive and untouched.  It was a long time before my Dad finally took the car into a Ford dealer to get it fixed up proper.  I heard that song on one of the 'oldies' station a while back on a trip up north.  I had to laugh at the sheer panic that gripped me when the 'note' rang out.  (Nothing broke, mind you.  And I was even driving a Ford!!) And Vickie, if you are reading this, someone misses you VERY MUCH!

My oldest son came over and helped the younger two get their Easter kites airborne.  It was kinda neat.  My youngest was quite thrilled.  There were a few near mid-air collisions, but other than that there was just enough wind to have a good launch and fly about.  I stood back and took pictures.

Brian called me today.  (The Brian from the earlier entry from my High School Days).  It was neat to hear from him.  He moved to North Carolina in 1982 or so, and he has picked up a 'southern' accent.  So me with my infinite wisdom, fuss over the fact he has an accent like forty times!  Duh!  Sorry Brian.  I don't get out much - it's my only excuse.  Plus, accents 'scare' me ... I always have this dire need to 'copy' the accent I am listening to.  I believe it's a legitimate mental illness of some sort.  At least I hope it is.

I hurt my side/stomach again during the night last Thursday.  I was getting up to visit 'Aunt Martha' and started to cough half way out of bed.  Oh My Goodness, the pain.  Not even forty yet, and I'm falling apart piece by piece.  It's a sad thing.  I go for my annual "poke n prod" in May.  I'm telling the doctor I want a tune up, a flushing, a lube job, and completely new internal organs.

April 24, 2000 - My son thinks that when I say, "Go wash your face" that it means stopping where he stands and giving himself a hearty spit bath with his muddy little hands.  Sigh.  Reminds me of the time years ago when my friend Sandy was over to visit, and my daughter was coughing on a snot ball, so I said, "cough it up and spit it out!" and she did, right there on the living room floor.  Sandy about wet her pants laughing.  I was very embarrassed.

It's a three man operation to clean behind my couch.  It's a big huge couch.  It's hard to tip it up and hold due to it's size.   The vacuum had a surge of life after dying yesterday, so I was bound to take advantage of it while it was running.  Cleaning behind the couch is a planned precision maneuver.  I tip and hold, my son goes in and grabs the piles of crap that have formed over the last week (toys of his, mainly), and my daughter goes in after my son to vacuum.  Tip, haul, and sweep.  We discuss this over a war map with little brass figures prior to the operation.  "I tip and hold, then you go in ..."  I scream to my son over the vacuum's motor  (since it won't shut off now at all unless you unplug it, but hey - it's running - Don't look a gift Eureka in the mouth) ... "Then you go in with the vacuum and get the rest!" I bark at my daughter.  "We're only going to have one shot at this - make it count!" I command.  We haven't lost a man yet.  Cleaning behind the couch proves the "princess and the pea" theory that obviously none of us are royalty because none of us can feel the sixty two plastic figures with little plastic space guns poking into our rears through the couch cushions as we sit there.

April 30, 2000 - This morning, there are Legos spread all over the living room.  Yesterday, I  cleaned my youngest son's room.  I had been putting it off.  Three hours of sorting and cleaning.  The stuffed animals back in the stuffed animal box.  Cars in the car box.  Action figures in the 'people' box.  During the sweating and cleaning, I did the mental math and the child must have 4000 dollars worth of Happy Meal toys in the 'people' box.  Sigh.  Why am I so gullible to fall for the fast food spider web that lures the hurried parent?  What would it kill me to make macaroni and cheese on the "frenzied" nights?  Ten minutes.  TEN MINUTES it would take!!  I spend that much time driving to McDonalds!  More time with my kids that way and they could help with the macaroni and cheese!  No free toys, mind you.  Less toys to pick up for me, though.  Anyway, I digress.  The room got clean, and my son says, "it's like havin' a whole new room and toys!" because he can find stuff he thought he had lost.  Like the 10 billion Legos that were scattered all over his room, but are now scattered all over my living room.  Sigh.

This is the last day of April.  Today, we will go buy some May Flowers to plant.  Maybe pansies - they are hearty little goobers.  I will also want to put up my hummingbird feeder.  They will start arriving soon.   My youngest son had his 1st grade program on Thursday night.  What a hoot.  Each class has different color T-shirt, and it looks like a rainbow up there on stage.  Three first grades and three second grades.  What a cute program.  You can't help but laugh at the innocent faces up there, singing their heart out.  How can that not melt one's heart?  My son was doing pretty good until the second half of the program where he started doing some odd form of a snake dance up on the risers, gyrating like he was having a seizure of sorts.  Then during the finale they all had to hold hands while singing "Hand in Hand" and my son tried with all his might to rip the arms off of the boy next to him in a whipping disco dance move.  I guess being in the spotlight has it's downfalls for those not ready for it.  I took my camera that night, and had all his little classmates line up for a picture, but THERE WAS NO FILM IN THE CAMERA.  Duh.  Too bad you couldn't scan your heart and mind for cherished pictures, huh?

On the way home from the program, the kids made me tell 'the stories' of their big brother  It tickles them to hear of their big brother's childhood snafus.  They laugh every time and sigh as if reminiscing for themselves.  They like to hear about the time their big brother told his kindergarten class during show and tell time how "my parents, yeah, they beat me with a frying pan sometimes."  (I got a call from his teacher on that one!!)  They also like the story of when my Mom moved in to an apartment near a lake in town for older people, and we were over helping her out.  Big brother was down by the lake checking things out when I called for him that it was time to go home.  He ran with a fury up the hill to the apartment's back sliding door entrance.  Then, as if in slow motion, we all watched him run smack through the screen of the sliding glass door.  Phoomphwap!  He stood on top of the screen door in my Mom's living room, dazed and confused as we all laughed while checking for blood and broken bones.   My two youngest always laugh hysterically at this.  "Why did he run through the screen, Mom?"  "He says he didn't see it!" I always reply, noting to them that he had never seen the likes of a sliding glass door, let alone a screen door that big.  "Bet he felts stupid, huh?" asks my youngest son.  They also like the story of the "windy day" years back, and my oldest came inside and proudly announced that he had secured the cushions on the outdoor chairs with the "paralyzed rocks" from my rock garden.   It was actually petrified wood chunks that were in the rock garden, but what made it funny was the sheer pride in his voice when he announced he had saved the cushions from a windy fate with hands on hips and a cocky air about him.  Paralyzed rocks, is there anything they can't do?  My daughter likes to retell the time when her big brother and Jessie, the neighbor girl, had her convinced that aliens arrived via airplanes at the local airport and were coming to get her in the night!  She used to run to the house and fly in the door every time a plane made a decent over our house enroute to the airport.  They also make me retell the 'tornado of '80' story, when I was pregnant for their big brother.  (I hate telling that one, because my youngest hates the thought of tornadoes and I've spent many a night soothing his fears over tornadoes.  But they insist, so I tell them.  I guess I'm not above comforting my youngest son and easing his fears - how many more times will I get this chance?  He's already 7.  Sigh.)  The tornado of '80 was personally my first 'bad' storm.  The tornado touched down 20 miles away from where we were, but still, we saw some of the amazing effects of the storm.  I was watching out the back window during the storm and saw the neighbor's shed fly up and over the railroad tracks out back!!  People who were in town at the time said they were amazed to see the garbage cans just lift up and hover above ground. It was exciting in a dangerous way.  I think my kids should be in respectful awe of Mother Nature.

Taffy, the kitten, is a kleptomaniac.  I caught him last night taking the strainer out of the sink!  Duh!  Must be he has to filter out his catnip?  Spazzy, the other kitten, got tangled up in my daughter's slinky dog.  That was a noisy event.  Life is never boring here.  Kids, cats, and dogs.  Tics, fleas, and scraped knees.  I believe I have it all.  (This is where I throw my hat up in the air and twirl around like Mary Tyler Moore ... cue the theme music).
May 9, 2000 - Today at work there were so many flies!!  Flies chasing each other.  Flies catching each other.  A regular fly orgy it was.  I have felt the urge to mate before, but this was ridiculous!!  There would be so many jumping on each other that they would form little black balls rolling along the sidewalk.  Cripes.  We didn't try to break them up - flies do serve a purpose, after all.  Without flies and crows and the like, all the road kill would build up until we were driving along the tops of trees.  We did have to practically scrape them off when we went in the building, though ... but the sheer tolerance by the human population concerning the flies is amazed me.  Odd behavior, for flies and humans alike.

My Dad hated flies.  Flies were dirty filthy creatures.  That was one thing you could get Dad for Father's Day and he'd use - a fly swatter.  During the warm months he would keep score on how many he killed in the house, marking the body count on a napkin.  He'd brag about it to anyone who'd listen.  When he would sit on the porch -  kill them - and keep them in a pile.  Sometimes I think he'd attempt to kill one twice, just to show off.  Once I caught him using his fly swatter to play with one of my cats.  (This was the man who I am sure was instrumental in the disappearances of many of my pets over the years).  He was actually smiling and teasing the cat with the swatter.  The cat was batting at it like crazy, and Dad would chuckle out loud.  When he finally caught  me watching, he hauled off and smacked the cat on top of the head.  "He's after the flies..."  he grunted.  Sigh.

My son was telling me about how someone "show-ed 'n tell-ed" a baby painter turtle today at school.  That also reminds me of my Dad.  One of the cool things I remember - there were not that many TO remember - was when we were walking through the woods to the garden when I was about 7.  We found this big old pond turtle.  My Dad told me to watch the turtle and he would be right back.  He went off toward the barn.  I just stared at the turtle.  He was in no hurry to go anywhere, and what do you say to a turtle?  When my Dad came back he had a little rusty can half full of white paint and a small paintbrush.  "Paint yer name on it" he said.  "Turtles live a long time, your name will be on him forever" he said, as he egged me on.  I didn't know if it was proper to perform an act of graffiti on a turtle.   Dad wrote "Ed" first, then gave me the brush.  I wrote "Sandy" with the paint below my Dad's name.  The turtle had withdrawn into his shell during all of this.  Then we sat on a rock and watched the turtle until he slowly went off into the woods.  Some memories are priceless.

It stormed last night pretty hard, but tonight there was a tornado warning.  My daughter was letting one of the dogs in the house when she said, "Mom, what are those sirens?  You know, like the ones they test on the the first Saturday of the month for .... " and her eyes got very large, and in the house she ran.  The TV was showing the warning by then.  I made my daughter run next door to tell the neighbor lady, who was still on her riding lawnmower, that there was a tornado warning.  I cleaned out the area of the closet that we plan on using in the event of a tornado (we don't have a basement) and put my purse and car keys in it.  I laid down a blanket for the kids, just in case.  Then went about the normal 'shutting' down of major appliances, etc.  The neighbor lady was safe in her house when the hail and wind kicked in, and that's when I made the kids get  in the closet.  Large hail balls make lots of noise!!  Rain was blowing in the part of the roof out back that goes into the laundry room which is a tiny little addition.  Rain was all over the back room, running down the walls.  I got the flashlight and went in and sat with the kids until the worse was over.  My daughter stared crying.  My youngest son was chewing a hole into a stuffed animal he was holding.  I tried to assure them best a Mom can.  "I just want you in here, just in case.  It's hard to hear a tornado let alone anything else when it's hailing so loud" I said to them.  The dogs added comic relief, crawling all over the kids inside the closet and cleaning their faces and ears.  After the hailing stopped, I got up to check things out.  The worst of the storm was moving east.  I let the kids get out and we sat on the bed and watched the Simpsons until the warning was over.  My son had occasional shivers.  My daughter, who usually professes to LOVE thunder storms made it clear that the previous statement only pertained to mild ones, not ones involving the closet.  My oldest son called me after the storm from where he works.  I thought that was cool of him to check on us.  That was our excitement for tonight.  I was tickled by the dogs, how they stuck close to the kids and seemed to know they needed their faces licked repeatedly.

May 11, 2000 - I HAVE A HUMMINGBIRD BACK TO THE FEEDER!  WOO HOO!  My 'honey bear' humming bird feeder broke during the storm on the 9th.  It's ear got knocked off by hail, so it wouldn't hold a 'vacuum' and keep in the nectar.  I fixed it by performing 'shipper's tape' and glue surgery, and I am glad I did!  I saw my first 'buzzie' of the season tonight!  He sat and drank for a long time.  He even POOPED!   Sigh.  How cool.

My son has started saying "I'll tell you what!..." before each story or sentence.  It is similar to my daughter's use of "um, like ...." but this is more cute as opposed to annoying.  "I'll tell you what, Mom, I was the fastest runner today when I chased them girls at recess..." "I'll tell you what, Mom, I have a TON of Pokemon cards and some are even Japanese ones!"  It tickles me.  He even says it wish a slight 'southern' twang to it.  I can just picture him leaning up against a gas pump like Gomer Pyle, pushing his hat back, and saying, "I'll tell you what ..."

I feel so bad for people south of where I live!  We got hammered with hail, and I got maybe two dents in the hood and roof of my car and my humming bird feeder was wounded, but the people just a mile south and down - OH MY GOODNESS!!  Jeff and Cheryl and Jim were at work when it hit, and their poor cars looks like someone beat them with a pall ping hammer!  There was glass and tail light covers all over the place.  Every insurance place I passed yesterday was just packed with cars.  "It's not nice to mess with Mother Nature!!!"

Today was my anniversary date at work.  Here is some of the 'thank you' letter I sent to my coworkers:

" I just wanted to thank you all ...

Today is my 18th (Full Time Official) Anniversary Date.  I wandered into Victor Plastics (on the corner where the Subway Sandwich place is now) back in June of 1979, soaked from head to toe from a  stormy downpour,  to put in my application for summer work before I headed off to Michigan State University.  Victor hired me, amazingly enough.  Smile.  Thank you, Vic!

Little did I know, 20+ years later, I'd still be hanging around.

Some say "Man, Sandy - are you nuts??"

Nuts, yes.  But I am still proud to be WHO I am WHERE I am.  What an inner feeling of satisfaction to 'grow' up with a corporation!  I do not take the lessons learned during the last 20 years for granted.  I carried all three of my lovely children while working on the production floor.  (None seem the worse for the wear of it, even when they were 'wedged' behind the wheel of a forklift!!)

I have made many friends and have learned many things.  I have gone through many levels of growing up, giving up, getting over it, and moving on.  The amount of education I've acquired over the years from 'real life' could never have been taught at a college.   I've been pushed aside, pissed off, picked up, prepped and propelled into new heights of understanding.  I don't think people appreciate the little bursts of learning that go on from day to day in an work environment - but I have learned to depend on them, and look forward to them.

I like to say "I've had more revelations than the last book of the Bible" since I started working here, because it's true.  I just wanted to say "THANK YOU ALL" for your participation (perhaps involuntarily) to my personal evolution!  It is an honor!

Hugs - Sandy"

As much as I get upset over that place, I have to admit I've enjoyed the trip all in all.   Now that I'm a 'computer geek' and wearing skirts and showing me bum off to everyone during a good wind, I find that EVERY DAY is full of more and more learning.  I love it.  (Although I do believe I'd be just as happy sweeping up rabbit turds.  I would imagine attitude has a lot to do with life in general, don't you?)  Maybe it's the Paxil talking, but I'd have to say it's been a lovely ride.

May 13, 2000 - Happy Mother's Day!  I had a lovely day.  My daughter mowed the lawn with gusto.  My oldest son called from work.  My youngest son is sick with a fever and sore throat and ear ache.  (What better way to show your mom you still need her?)  He battled a fever earlier, but has perked up some now.  He had a dose of soup and fish shaped crackers - that seems to have helped.  Now he's laying all stretched out impersonating Malcom in the Middle's friend in the wheel chair ...  "Mom (pant) I'm too (pant) weak (pant) to make it (pant) to the (pant) potty ... (pant pant) ... carry me?"  This afternoon, I left him in a semi delirious state in the care of my daughter and I ran a Mom's day cake over to my Aunt Jean.  It was a carrot cake, and when I was frosting it this morning, my son weakly suggested that I draw a smiley face eating a carrot on the top.  "I'm always havin' good ideas like that ..." he murmured, before falling asleep.   I imagine if his fever doesn't go away, I will be home with him tomorrow.

May 15, 2000 - It's tomorrow, and I'm home.  Took my son to the doctor's today.  He has strep throat.  He barely made it to the pharmacy.  He laid in the back seat moaning.  When we got to the pharmacy, he wasn't even interested in picking out a toy.  He saw two chairs by the counter, pushed them together, and laid down.  I let him lay there as I looked around.  Besides making people laugh at the store, it made me 'proud' of him in an odd way.  He knew he had a need -  he had to lay down!!  As soon as we got the medicine, I gave him a pill.  He's on the couch right now,  just laying there.  He had a burst of energy earlier, enough to throw all his fish crackers to the dogs and spill juice all down the front of himself.  Cursed straight straws!

Sigh.  Now we are without water.  The water pressure, which was similar to that of a anorexic ant who had not drank liquids in six weeks then making a feeble attempt to urinate to begin with was less than that, prompting me to check the well pit.  The well pit was full of water.  Another sigh.  After using the sump pump to eliminate the water and save the salamanders and toads who live in the well pit it was very noticeable that the tank was leaking with a fervor.  The tank is well over 16 years old.   (That's as long as I've been in this 'house').  The tank will need replacing.  The neighbors were kind enough to loan us two seven gallon containers they use when camping as well as the water to fill them.   I also sent my daughter over to their house to get drinking water.  I boiled water and did the dishes, then used the dish water to 'flush' the toilet that was in dire need of flushing.  Tomorrow is another day, Scarlet.  You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille?  Ain't no sunshine when you're gone?  Two steps forward and three steps back?  Three doors down, their laughin and drinkin and havin a party? .... DRINKING?  How come you don't want water 'til you can't have water?  I fear I'm a bit delirious!  I felt like I was getting sick earlier today ... please don't let it be the stomach flu!!!  Mommy? .....

May 19, 2000 - We had water on the 16th for approximately two hours.  A toad had to die in the process, but we had water.  (The salamanders survived)  In my excitement, I started a load of wash.  I went to check it after the wash cycle had spun out -there was no water coming out.  Sigh.  Not that one should expect water coming out during the rinse cycle.  The pump had lost it's prime.  We all lose our prime sooner or later, but why did the pump do it so soon?  That was Tuesday.

Wednesday my daughter went next door to the neighbors for a shower.  Pre-teens tend to stink.  My friend Diane rode her bike to my house to see me and give me a hug.  I had talked to her at school that morning, lamenting the fact I had no water in the house.  She had a similar problem, but hers was the opposite - they couldn't get the water to LEAVE the house.  I thought it was really cool that she rode all the way to my house 'just because' and show me she cared.  As of tonight Diane is pumped and I am primed.  (Pumped and Primed, the sequel to Thelma and Louise?).  Tonight, we have (knock on wood) water!  I am on my SECOND load of wash!  I am going to attempt to take a REAL shower after this load!  After a week of 'Little House on the Prairie" bowl and pitcher baths, I am ready!  I wanna shave!  I wanna feel soap stinging my eyes!  I want to break out in song to hear the bathroom acoustics!  "Oh, what a beautiful bathtub!  Oh, what a beautiful spray!  I've got a wonderful feeling all of my dirt is just washing away!"

The robin is back and building another nest outside the building at work.  Half the tree is dead, but it doesn't seem to bother the robins.  We all gathered around and watched through the dead side of the tree and they continued to build!  It's kind of neat to watch them after they weave in dead grass and sticks and then come back and plop on a mud blob.  They wallow right down in the nest to round it out.  Too cool.  Soon will be the babies.  Nature rocks.  My hummingbirds are getting more and more aggressive at the feeder!  It reminds me of F15's in a aerial dog fight.  Zoooooooooom!  Mind you there are four sides to feed on this feeder, but NO, they have to have the whole thing to themselves.  So the fighting begins.  They tickle me, those hummingbirds, but they are severely lacking nectar manners.

Sharron from the South (Tucson) found an e-mail address of mine on Yahoo, and wrote to me.  Sharron is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, inside and out!  She has the voice of an angel.  If I was a guy, boy howdy, I'd jump her!  (But that's the shallow testosterone side of me talking).  I cried when I read her note for I have missed her so!  What joy!  I have missed working with her and hearing from her.  She read this entire diary and wrote me a letter last night.  She is a hoot.  Sharron, I am so GLAD you are on line and that you sought me out!  I miss you woman!  HUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!  Don't ever lose me again!  Smile.

The washer is on spin from the rinse.  Soon I will be in the shower.  Never take your dripping faucets for granted EVER AGAIN!  I'm off to shave before I need to start braiding!  Happy Friday.
 

May 23, 2000- I was thinking one of the things I really want to accomplish before I 'shuffle off this mortal coil' is to choreograph a ballet of sorts, filmed from an aerial position and involving a four way stop and lots of cars timed perfectly to music.  Not just any cars, though  - I think I'd want the newer Volkswagen models.  You see, I have lots of free time to think about things like that. duh, when I'm hauling in water to boil and bathe with and do dishes with ... speaking of which - Friday's shower is the last one I took.  The sheer joy I raved about above was short lived ... (I mean, I wash every day from a bowl like the good pioneer woman I am) but ...

Water situation update - WHAT WATER?  Sigh.  I got quotes today to have a new well driven.  After getting the quotes, I filled out paperwork for a loan.  ($3,400 - 3,700 dollars!!!!!)  I then called the health department and found out how to get a permit to drill a well.  That is $88.50 which includes the inspector coming out after the water is flowing and testing the water to make sure nobody goes on a madcow disease type killing spree after drinking it.  A bargain for only $88.50!  What happens if they find killer parasites in the water?  Do I have to start all over again?  I think if they find something in the water and it doesn't cause too much DNA damage, it should be considered "ok" to drink, don't you?  I don't plan on reproducing ever again so I wouldn't have to worry about creating a race of mutant deranged children (other than the three I already plopped out).  I talked to Diane today yesterday, and she is still able to flush, so I know there is hope for me as well.

Two sandhill cranes were halfway up into my back yard yesterday!  What awesome birds.  I love to watch them strut, although my knees hurt at the thought of the backward way they do it.  Very majestic and stately birds.  They have a royal air about them.  "Come, Cynthia darling, there are more things writhing and waiting to be consumed over here...."

My daughter's 6th grade band concert was tonight, and it was WONDERFUL.  I cannot believe a bunch of sixth graders can play so well their first year.  (I am VERY proud of our school system when it comes to music)!  She looked so mature in her dress as she walked on stage.  As Aunt Arlie said, "That's HER?"  Smile.  They keep growing up!  She is almost as tall as me already.  Mind you, I'm short, but she's almost eye level with me.  I don't mind a bit because I've been waiting YEARS to have some one get me that can on the top shelf in the cupboard!

May 28, 2000 - "What I did on my weekend off, by Sandy"

Thursday - My son lost another front bottom tooth so he spent the morning entertaining me before work with his ability to squish his tongue through the spaces.  We took pictures so I can blackmail him later in life.

The well permit is secure, just not processed nor faxed to me at work, as they had promised.  Finding the place in which to apply for the well permit was a hoot!  It reminded me of the Pee Wee Herman movie where he's looking for his bike, and the psychic says "It's in the basement, at the Alamo."  After driving around for half an hour in the old college campus that was now in use by our local government as offices and labs and the like, I finally found a help desk.  I waited in line behind three young mom's with crying children going in for well baby checks and/or booster shots.  There was also a person there for the H.I.V. clinic, and a women there for TB testing.  Finally it was my turn, and they said, "Hmmmm, that's in the basement" and I almost laughed out loud.  Now, where's the basement?!  I looked for the nearest door with stairs leading downward.  They actually had a basement!  I filled out the appropriate paper work, paid my $88.50, and fled to the safety of city streets.  I went after work to sign the loan papers for this current crisis.  I kissed the hand of the loan officer.  She just smiled.

Friday - The well drilling company called and said they will drill today.  As a matter of fact, they were on their way out!  I was elated.  I had to meet them, to show them where all the vital things were, like my septic tank and the neighbor's septic tank.  I was so happy to see them pull up!  The poor man must have thought I was an loony.  I was so happy it was finally in progress.  "You'll have a well by the time ya get home ..." the well man said.  I did, too!  A nice white PVC pipe poking it's head up out of the yard, teasing me with it's promise of free flowing water.  I had called the other place that will install the pump and tank, etc.  They cannot come out until NEXT Friday.  Still, there was hope, and it was all going forward.  After two weeks without water, what is another week?

For a treat, I booked myself and kids into a Holiday Inn in a neighboring town.  It had a jacuzzi in the room!  We would would spend the night playing in free flowing water to our heart's content.  My son loved it and hardly got out.  My daughter went in twice and I soaked once in it.  I bought a bar of Lavender soap and just let it dissolve in the jacuzzi water.  The room and all of us smelled marvelous.   I had more fun in the shower with such high pressure that it felt like being sprayed by a fireman's hose at three paces.  I swear my hair is lighter now!  The joy of WATER!  The kids slept in their sleeping bags on the floor.  We were all very very clean and smelled right pretty.

Saturday - I woke up around 6:30 like normal.  Felt like I had a hangover without the joy of the drinking the night before.  I used the bathroom and went back to bed.  I slept another hour or so.  My son wanted to play in the jacuzzi again, so I filled it up and dozed as he splashed.  My daughter was content listening to the new Matchbox Twenty CD she had.  I could hear my stomach rumble in low angry tones.  I thought to myself  "this is really it" meaning my all out and out gall bladder attack that my doctor had promised "would eventually happen."  I ached all over.  I felt so bad.  After my son soaked the floor good, we packed up the car, checked out, and headed home. We missed the free continental breakfast the kids had looked forward to.  I barely made it home.  I flew to the bathroom and exploded at both ends.  The fever took over.  I crawled into bed in a 'flu fog'.  My daughter is a godsend.  She managed the fort.  I got up every two hours to be sick again, and then pass right back out.  I couldn't keep medicine down, so my body fought the good fight on it's own.  Chills then too hot then chills then .... w