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 Meijers.  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 son 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!!  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.

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!

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.

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?  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).

It's funny how, when you love someone so much that one negative word or no words at all from them can make you sad. What is funnier is that we allow ourselves to feel bad over one negative word or silence.  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 Pinocchio 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.  n 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 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 "pulling' 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 - 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. 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. 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.  Every time.  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 set of 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. 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 gauge 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!!) ((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.

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.  hen, 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 en-route 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 ..."

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.

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 .... when I crawled out of bed near evening my son was on the couch sick as well.  He had a fever and a bad headache and his throat hurt, but no barfing.  The night 'flu' by ...

Sunday - I am coherent again, somewhat, but very weak.  The fever came and broke and came and broke but I am able to see again and move some.  My son remained on the couch all day, dozing and sipping seven up.  I sent my daughter off to her cousin's with my sister.  I am so grateful she was able to take her along.  Today was my niece Wendi's adoption party for her new son, Eli!  I had to miss it and I was upset.  My daughter even had to wrap the present for me!  After my daughter left, I slept with my son on and off throughout the day and we had soup for dinner.  It stayed down!  Soup is good food.  All praise Campbells.  I took a chance and swallowed two Tylenol.  Toward evening I managed to get up enough 'umph' to print out my niece Cassie's graduation invitations and some maps.  They are having the party here since it's it's a more accessible location.  I wanted them ready for when my sister dropped of my daughter.  My daughter came home hopped up on Coke-a-Cola and talked for 1/2 hour non-stop.  Once she used up all the air in the room, we all go to bed for the night.  Things are getting back to normal, slowly but surely.

June 1, 2000 -  I went to the doctor's on Tuesday.  I felt so bad in the morning when I went to work.  I had a fever - felt like each limb weighed a ton - and I was quite the bitch, I must say.  Jeff saw my wet hair as I scuffed past his cubicle doing my best impersonation of 'Maxine' and he called out in a happy voice, "I see you must have your water back!" and I said "NO I DON'T HAVE MY WATER BACK, AIN'T YA NEVER SEEN ANYONE WASH THEIR HAIR IN A BOWL FOR CRIPES SAKE?  DIDN'T YOUR MOM EVER LET YOU WATCH THE WALTONS??" in a not so happy voice.  I continued to spread my joy throughout my end of the building by screaming sweetly at my boss "I FEEL LIKE SHIT SO AS SOON AS I CAN GET INTO THE DOCTOR, I'M GOING" and my boss said, "Well, Good Morning to you, too!"  Sigh.  (No, really, I wasn't the author of "How to Win Friends and Influence People" but I understand your confusion).  I called the doctor.  They could get me in early.  So I turned around and scuffed back to my car.  I drove downtown to my doctor's office.

I signed in and dozed in a chair as I waited.  The nurse finally came.  She weighed me.  "You've lost five pounds" she said.  "OF COURSE I LOST FIVE POUNDS 'CAUSE I HAVE A PROBLEM BEING ANAL RETENTIVE LATELY AND CRIPES, I HAVE BEEN PUKING OUT MY GUTS LIKE I'M TRYING FOR RIPPLEY'S BOOK..." I muttered in an innocent voice.  She got me to my room, asked the normal questions, took my blood pressure, then my temp.  When the doc got in there, she asked (by now, mind you, I was becoming a bit irritable) "How are you today?" and I replied, "LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER ..." You get the picture.  I knew I had strep throat.  I had finally figured that out the other night by the way I felt.  I didn't know I also had an ear infection.  That was a bonus prize for going to the doctors!  I left with prescription in hand.  I managed to get pills and get home and get to bed.

My son came home from school on Tuesday afternoon and I asked, "How are you today?  How was school?" and he said in his child like voice "HOW THE HECK DO YOU THINK I AM?  I SPILLED PAINT ALL OVER MY PANTS AND CRIPES, THEY EXPECT US TO EAT VEGETABLES FOR HOT LUNCH?? ..." and he curled up on the couch and fell asleep.  I rolled my eyes. Here we go again.

My son went BACK to the doctor's on Wednesday. The doctor thought he just had a cold after his treatment for strep, but after the swab came back, she said, "He still has strep!"  So, we are both on medication.  We have changed our toothbrushes and changed our pillowcases. Hopefully, we are on the road to wellness again and this evil circle of strep and bitchy attitudes will be behind us.

Today, Thursday, the people who were to put in the pump came out!  I was so happy - but that's because ignorance is bliss. The two men from the pump place came out with the guy who had the back hoe.  I couldn't believe the neat precise yet deep lines a back hoe could make!  Amazing.  The young man driving was quite good. That was obviously all he was there to do, for he wandered off to lounge under a tree. The pump people went to work.  I was so happy I was going to have water again!!  When I got home after work, they were getting ready to leave.  They handed me the bill, which was not as much as I had expected, so I was thrilled and hugged the man, and said, "Boy, I can't wait for a real shower..."   BUT - and we grow big butts around here - you just can't jump in the shower. They poured a megaton of chlorine down the well and it has to sit for 24 hours! Then you have to run the well for 48 more hours!!!  Of course you don't wanna drink it for a few weeks after wards. The health department has to come out after the 48 hours of running to check it for cooties. Sigh.  I am quite discouraged.  Yes, I now have flowing water but I can't use it. I almost cried.  After three weeks, I don't have the moxy to say, "what's a few days more?"  Sigh.  Hand me a kleenex, please?

June 4, 2000 - I was a bad girl.  I couldn't wait for Monday before using the water.  I started using it after letting it run for 24 hours instead of 48.  I did wash and mopped my floors.  I did a lot of things that involved WATER.  I was a slutty water pig.  The pressure is amazing.  Real water pressure after 16 years of a trickle!!!  What a concept.  Before all of this water crisis as of late, if someone flushed the toilet, you couldn't use ANY faucet or water apparatus for a half an hour.  The washer took 45 minutes to fill for each cycle.  Now, the washer takes two minutes or so to fill up!  Can you believe it?  It is truly amazing.  For all those who say water is over rated, I smack you upside your head like a bad donkey.

Have you ever sat and watched a child eat animal crackers or Teddy Grahams?  You know, anything with defined body parts in food form?  It seems they take great delight in biting off heads and arms and legs as they munch.  I wonder if this isn't some inner prehistoric genetic need to hunt?  If not, then I am raising cannibals.

Where they did all the digging outside for the new lines for the well -  my son has decided this is the worlds largest sand box.  He is dirt from head to toe.  He just got a new butch hair cut and it's packed with sand.  From a bird's eye view I imagine that area looks like a track for Pro Stock Nationals.  Hot wheel cars everywhere!  I can't wait until the next rain storm when it becomes the worlds largest mud pie.  Sigh.

June 8, 2000 - The week has been long.  I must have logged and resolved over 60 help calls since Monday.  Sigh.  Plus doing my 'real' job on top of that.  I've been struggling with a problem on my mapping for EDI for IBM, and finally got it late today.  Woo Hoo.  I've been 'self' taught all these years ... and I am kind of proud of the fact I can still learn, being so old and all.  I thought for years after I quit college that I was too stupid to learn.  DUH!  Now that was stupid!  We can all still learn SOMETHING.  And you know what?  I love it!  It is frustrating at times, but a very very enjoyable thing.

You know how the 'little' things in life that make it worth living?  Like seeing a magnificent sunrise with a thousand different colors or seeing a hummingbird duke it out with another hummingbird over sugar water at the feeder ... those little things that make all the big things seem not so big.  My buddy Jeff has been sending me MP3's of music he knows I will like that he finds at night while he's surfing the web.  hey make my day!  What a hoot.  He's sent me Frank Sinatra's "The Way You Look Tonight" and Tony Bennett's "Would You Like to Swing on a Star" and some humorous ones from The Bob and Tom Show -"Blow Me ... a kiss as you're leaving..."

Something else that 'makes your day' are little errors that happen and either shock you or just flat out make you bust a gut laughing.  I went to the local grocery store tonight.  My sister Joyce works there.  I went through her line after I got a roasted chicken and a pound of potato salad from the Deli and a few other things.  When she rang up my bag of cat food, the display said $27,370.49!!!  I said, "Holy Shit! That me be some damned fine cat food!!" before breaking out in laughter. My sister and the bag girl joined in the humor. "Forget the cat food, they'll just have to eat each other!" -  "Well, there goes my extra money for clothes ... gonna have to make clothes out of the cats!!" - "Man, I'm gonna have to cash in my 401K plan to get the dogs some food!!"  She fixed it but I'm still laughing. She had charged me for 4031 bags of cat food.  Hahaaaaaaaa.  When I got home to eat supper, I happened to notice that the potato salad cost $7.09!!!  Sigh. 6.91 a pound!  Turns out the label said Seafood Salad. I had to pick up my son later so I took it back in and said, "hey, it was OK potato salad, good potato salad, but not GREAT potato salad, and definitely not $6.91 a pound potato salad!"  They gave me my refund.  Ahh, it was a night of funny little faux pas that made me chuckle.

I saw Diane this morning and the poor thing is still having trouble with her septic tank.  She only got to flush for a while.  Now the septic tank is acting weird.  Now that I have incoming, she can barely output.  I will say a prayer tonight that they don't get the stomach flu over there!  She said her and her husband were out on the porch over looking the septic tank last night, watching it gurgle ... I think about then I would have yelled at the kids, "Someday, kids - this will all be yours...."  Ah life, there must be more?!

June 11, 2000 - My son was showing me pictures from his year book. "This is Morgan.  She loves me.  She chased me at recess all the time!"  Then his eyes got all wide and sparkly, and he said "this is Becca.  Man, I love her!  She looks GOOD in this picture! I chased her at recess all the time!"  Too cute.  To be young again!  I remember chasing Larry Eberstein at recess back in first grade.  He looked just like Charlie Brown back then.  I'd chase him, knock him down, kiss him, then go off and swing on the swings. Andy used to chase me and knock me down.  He liked me.  He really liked me!  He used to take things out of my desk at school, like my Kennedy pencil sharpener, and hide them in his desk.  I can see now where the Andy relationship was more like a "Fatal Attraction" sort of thing.  Of course my intentions toward Larry were nothing like that.  Nope. I didn't go "Glenn Close" and go stalking anyone until seventh grade when it came to Bobby. That poor guy.  I worshiped the ground he walked on!  I would take things out of his locker and hide them in my locker.  Now that I look back, I must say he was a gentleman!  He could have brought up charges against me, I harnessed the poor boy so much!  In my yearbook that year he wrote "Don't walk behind me, don't walk in front of me, walk beside me and be my friend ... "  I do believe he was trying to make a point, don't' you?  (Bob, if you are out there, I apologize from the bottom of my heart!)

My daughter keeps having near fainting spells, for the love of her life signed her year book at on the last day of school. I guess they get brave toward the end of the year, figuring they won't see each other much until fall, for she made it clear to anyone who would listen or read the poster boards on her locker or notice the words etched in ink on her notebook that she liked a boy.  "He wrote TEN WORDS in my year book!  TEN WHOLE WORDS!"  I can imagine her joy.   All of her female friends were jealous. We all know most guys will write "Stay loose" or "good luck" or "ug" in a girl's yearbook, but not a whole TEN WORDS!  Goodness!  I will be a Grandmother before I know it!  Geesh!  She has read the year book entry to me a thousand times, and chants what he wrote in a sort of rap-pop song over and over and suddenly breaks out into bouncing fits of glee when she remembers he did sign her yearbook. I gave her the "Bobby" speech and explained how one can go overboard when it came to expressing themselves to someone they like a lot. She can't see that yet. Warn your sons, RUN - BE AFRAID!!!

I know they say don't leave candles unattended ... but do you know why they say that?  Because apparently some cats are drawn to a flame like a moth!  Muffy, my oldest male cat and great feline hunter, has ignited his fur TWICE in his lifetime, today being the second time. I had candles burning on top of my T.V. today, and Muffy deemed it necessary to find out what the new smell in the air was.  He climbs up the bookcase to the top of the T.V. and steps over one burning candle to get to the second one.  As he is sniffing the flame, his belly ignites from the first candle!  Duh!  I saw this happen out of the corner of my eye, ran up and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and proceeded to pat out the smoking hairs on his belly.  All the while, he's leering at me as if he's thinking "Man, what's up with HER?  She really needs to mellow out!"  Muffy has had way too much catnip in his formative years. Now when he stretches out on the floor, there is this huge nearly bare oval of skin and burned hair surrounding it on his tummy.  He's been branded.  He did that before by catching his tail on fire from a candle and walking away casually, smoking and stinking up the house as if nothing had happened.  I have come to realize now why there is no "Burning Cat Hair" incense out there on the market.  Sigh.

June 14, 2000 - Today my Dad would have been 87 years old, had he not died in 1985. I find it disturbing that I can remember my Dad's birthday and I can remember when he died, but I can't these things about my own Mom!  What's up with that?  Maybe it's because my father was such a mean person when he was alive yet the last few weeks of his life he had to depend on us, and became quite thankful and mellow.  One is bound to remember something like that, no doubt.  I remember driving him to the doctor's office and helping him up the stairs.  He would support himself by putting an arm around my shoulders and crack jokes about "maybe you could carry me piggy back" or "can't you carry the doctor down to me?"  Those were sweeter memories, from the dark to the light.  With my Mom, it was the reverse.  She was always the kind person, the giver, the do-er.  Toward the end of her life, she became mean and seemingly so full of hate and much confusion. I guess that is probably something one might choose to forget.

My children have survived three whole days together since summer vacation started.  That's all I got to say about that one ...

Earwigs.  Millions of earwigs.  Everywhere.  This year is a bumper crop.  I know they are not harmful to humans.  But there are so many!  I finally looked up ways to control them on the web.  Some information I found, in case you too are suffering from the little buggers.

EARWIG CONTROL:

Diatomaceous earth put in hiding places such as cracks and crevices ( do not water the ground after application -around and on the woodpile and do not put on a windy day ) around the foundation and the garage in tubular legs of lawn furniture around and in dog house

Diluted dish detergent sprayed directly on them, when you see them alone or together. Do not spray on your lawn to get rid of the insects because you will kill all the beneficial insects therefore causing an ecological problem in your lawn

Traps of rolled newspapers, toilet paper carton rolls, bamboo tubes bait with peanut butter, fish oil, corn oil. Every morning, tap them out in soapy water

Shallow cans containing 4 oz. beer (strain insects out and re-use)

Traps of corn oil, fish oil with either water or vinegar ( 1/2: 1/2 ) in a small can buried in the soil with a bit of the edge sticking out

A bucket of soapy water put in the garden where they will climb in and drown

Chicken ( bantam hen ) where zoning laws allow

Bug juice: Put in a blender earwigs with water and spray the result on other earwigs

I like the chicken idea the most, but Muffy the cat would end up eating the chicken, or getting eaten by the chicken, so that's out.   The thought of having a pet chicken, though, does hold some sort of temptation for me!  Weird.   Now, what the heck is diatomaceous earth?  Great, now I had to look THAT up:

Diatomaceous Earth, powdery material formed almost entirely from the skeletons of diatoms, forms of algae deposited in most cases during the Cenozoic era. Usually fine in texture and gray or white in color, diatomaceous earth is composed largely of silicon dioxide or silica when it is pure. The material has multiple industrial uses, and deposits are found in many parts of the world

There, I am all educated on earwig control. And diatomaceous earth. You can all razzle and dazzle your friends with these new facts next time you are at a party. "Oh, yeah, I'm doing great, but I feel as old as diatomaceous earth!  Hahahahaha"  or "Just when you thought there was nothing else to do with your Bantam Hen..."  I just gave my seven year old an old Windex Spray Jug full of soapy water, and sent him on a mission. I can hear him screaming outside "die, you pinchy bug-butts, die!!"  I have created a monster?  Yes, and the Monster is ME!!  Ah Ha!  I went on bug bivouac with my son, and we freed the swing set and the Eagles Nest of earwigs!  Victory is ours. Who would have thought just dish soap could be so versatile? (My luck the antibacterial part of the dish soap will make all those earwigs into some kind of SUPER earwig. Lock your doors).

June 15, 2000 - Day four of summer vacation.  When I pulled into the driveway and before I could turn off the car, my son flew out the door and jumped in the passenger side of the car.  "Quick, let's go!" he shrieked.  "What are you talking about?" I asked him. "Come on, give 'er some gas, let's get outta here!" he said as he locked the door and plastered his face against the window, staring at the house."Hurry up, SHE'S COMING!" he cried. I looked up and saw my daughter coming out of the house.  I had to laugh!  "Come on, Mom, we havta getta way from HER!!!" he said in a faked voice of terror.  My daughter stood there with her head cocked and her arms folded over her chest.  "He's so funny, I forgot to laugh" she sneered as she looked in at her brother. I thought the whole thing was quite amusing, myself!!

My son also entertained us later that night with the "Pumpernickel" song. At first it sounded to me like a rip off of the 'Dr. Pepper' theme, but he eventually adapted it to match sister tune as she played 'Fur Elise' on the keyboard.  After completely wearing out the word 'Pumpernickel', he announced to us that the word 'pumpernickel' was a cowpow. My daughter and I looked at each other and smiled questioningly. "What the heck is a cowpow, dork?" my daughter asked her brother so politely. "You know -  cowpow - when the word is more than one word ..." my son explained.  "That's COMPOUND word, you idiot!" my daughter sweetly corrected her brother.  "Cowpow?  Oh man ..."  she mumbled as she headed for bed.

June 16, 2000 - I am so happy the week is over.  I am just drained.  Pooped.  Worn out.  Plum used up.  I sometimes think it would be the easiest thing just to give up all will to live and roll over and give in to the world.  Just "live to serve" and surrender all personal hopes and dreams. I am so tired at this very moment. I'd love to be vain enough to feel worthy enough to be selfish and say "I wish someone would just hold me and touch my hair and rock me and make me feel special" but we all know self pity gets you no where. So I will just wait until bedtime and thank the Lord for my bed. Tomorrow won't seem so bad, now will it?  Even if it is bad I will just do what I need to do and what I'm expected to do, and it will all be wonderful.  Shiney Happy People R Us.

June 20, 2000 - Today my son brought home a permission slip which grants my approval for him to go to the local library tomorrow.  He is attending a summer reading program or reading 'camp' as they call it.  I was reading the permission slip to myself ..."if any medical treatment is required during the trip, I consent to the trip survivors to authorize ..." and I stopped and thought, HOW RUDE, THE SURVIVORS! After careful re-reading, it turns out it says " ...trip supervisors..."  Sigh. Well, I had a good laugh.

There is a light rolling thunder on occasion and a steady downpour of rain outside.  When I pulled in to the driveway there were 10's of black birds partaking of the worm fest going on. They always remind me of little men in tiny tuxedos. They strut around so proper, like tiny Groucho Marx's. (Can you make a plural word out of Marx?)

Now that the sun eventually poked through the clouds, the kids are outside playing in the "Flapping Flamingo".  It's a bright pink toy you attach to your hose and it spews water through its wings as if it had way too much coffee and is now signaling in planes. (In my day we called them sprinklers, or as the Indians say, "maize"). I can never remember the name of the thing, so when they get bored I tell them to go hook up the 'Penguin with tourette syndrome'. They seem to know what I mean. They are now holding races around the swing set and through the Joe Cocker crane.  It's very neat.  Before the new well, there was never enough water to hook up a contorting water fowl for playing in, let alone anything else. My son is making plans for a Slip N Slide in the near future since we now have water to spare. As they race around the spewing stork now, though, I see they have discovered how to make their own Slip N Slide N Bruise in the mud. I am waiting to hear the inevitable 'thud' of one of them slipping into something harder than their own head.  hat 'thud' sound gives a mother enough time to start running to the scene of the 'thud' and get the pressure applied early enough so the blood doesn't draw sharks.

June 27, 2000 - "What Sandy did on her summer vacation" ... (did I mention I'm on vacation) ... I am officially on vacation from work for two weeks.  On Saturday and Sunday I enjoyed sleeping in, and then lounging all day in my jammies.  (I am a firm believer in wearing as little clothes as possible, and for those of you who know me, I apologize for that mental image). I cleaned when I felt like it, not because I had to. I sat and read my book which I started a long time ago and only got a chance to read in the family "library" - aka Bathroom. I took time to mow in a lower gear instead of racing around the yard getting hemorrhoids at mach speed. I know this doesn't sound too exciting, but it is. The option to do it at my leisure - that is a wonderful thing!  I had hoped to play in the pool as well, but it's been a bit too nippy temperature wise.  Maybe next week?  Later today I plan on stopping at the nearest corn field and doing my "official wives tale seasonal corn height test" -  (by all rights the corn should be "knee high" by the Fourth of July. Since I'm pretty short, I am giving the corn all benefits of doubt).

Next week is the week of all weeks, My Favorite Week, the Balloon Festival!  Woo Hoo!  Nothing tickles me more than watching 130 or so balloons in the air at once.  What a sight.  Sigh.  'Tis a marvelous thing.  It used to be when life got too overwhelming for me, I would drive to the nearest Great Lake, sit on the beach,  and reflect on things.  Going to a lake where you can see no opposite shore and all you see before you is water, much like an ocean, puts things in perspective.  We are all a piece of sand in the big picture of life.  We just need to be reminded of that from time to time.  Life can get to overwhelming for ANY of us and we need some way to put things into the right light.  Are our problems as big as we think they are?  Are we the only person lonely or suffering in the world?  So a drive to the Big Lake would slap me upside my brain and put me straight.  Now, the balloons, not only do they give me the benefit of this whole 'perspective' thing, but damned if it just ain't amazing to see!  Sigh.  The Thunderbirds will be at the airshow as well, and we all know how Sandy loves the big jets!  The Discovery Channel and The Learning Channel have, of course, started showing all their "Air Show Disaster" series. Normally they just show those when I'm ready to fly somewhere for work.  A couple of weekends ago, an F-15 went down during an airshow. So do I hesitate to go? No. I go. I love the airshow. I adore the balloons. If there is an accident, and a plane plows into the crowd and kills me, know after many loud swear words that I died happy.

The phone books are here!  Woo Hoo.  I found my new book out on the back stoop.  he back stoop, or the "Poop Stoop" as it is known 'round these parts, is the South side of the house where the dog chain is. The official canine potty area of the new millennium. It's a land mine of piles of doo doo which no known human can navigate and live to tell the tale. Oh, I guess they could tell the tale, but as they are scraping large amounts of feces off their tennis shoes as they do. I pity the person who thought that was the front door!  It's one of my daughter's designated chores to scoop da poop out there which she approaches  with little or no gusto.  Normally she just gags a lot and shoots evil stares at me through the window. In the winter it's not so bad, because the poop freezes and gets 'auto piled' together in a neat and manageable row as the dogs go 'round and circles on the chain.  But I digress ... the phone books are here! A sure sign of summer. I saw a phone book in the middle of the road the other day.  Some person got the whole idea of recycling totally out of context.  It is in the middle of a four lane road, so stopping and getting it seems futile unless you want to die for the greater good of the Yellow Pages. It started out in book form.The next few days and after a rain shower, it has all fanned out in a semi circle and puffed up twice it's original size.  I will be sure to keep you posted on it's progress.

June 30, 2000 - This has been a fun week.  The phone book mention above eventually disintegrated enough to spread out all over the roadway.  Large birds still fly up to the pages and binding that remain in the middle of the road and pick at it until they realize it's not rotten meat (just in case anyone was wondering about that phone book).

Me, my youngest son and my niece, Tori, went to see "Chicken Run" on Monday night.  It was a cute movie, but I'm happy we just paid matinee prices for it. My niece went home on Tuesday evening.  My son had to wing it alone until Thursday when his big brother came over to spend the night with him. My daughter has been up north all week with her friend Katie. My son was feeling the pain from being 'alone' - so what did I do?  I SPOILED HIM ROTTEN!!  He now has three trillion mini-beanie babies from McDonalds, a new Pokemon race car, and various other toys and treats that he was given in the effort to ease the pain due to the lack of his sister's presence.  I don't think he missed her at all now that I think back on it, but he figured out soon enough in the week that pretending to miss her caused a reaction in Mom called "Pavlov's Parental theory of rewarding the whining solo sibling." Sigh.

I ordered myself a book this week. I have all the "Dune" series books by Frank Herbert except "Heretics of Dune" so I ordered that one and had it sent over night.  I am up to the fourth chapter.  It seems so nice to have the option to read when you want. I also bought clothes line and hung my clothes out to dry this week on the line.  My dryer is dying a slow death.  I thought it could use the time off).  Nothing smells better than sheets dried outside in the sun!  OK, maybe sun dried raisins smell sweeter, but the sheets smell darn good too.  My son was NOT at all happy with me the other day, though.  I had six pairs of his underwear hanging on the line in clear sight of the neighbors and God himself, and he gave me a stern lecture. "Mom, cripes!  I don't want everyone seeing my Rugrat Underwear!  Can't you dry them things in the house?" (One of many ways a parent can screw up a child - showing off his underwear for all to see. There's also the one where you put alcohol on an open wound they got by falling down, but prior to the pouring you had assure them "it won't hurt a bit!"  I also believe that's why it took so long to replace the rectal thermometer with those quickie one second ones that work in the ear. WE as parents had to find legal, legitimate ways of getting back at our kids).

My jaw has been out of place all week I think.  At night as I'm drifting off to sleep, I must clench my jaw and my teeth meet at the incorrect places and it HURTS.  You know how that goes, though, when you think something is not right ... you think about it and think about it and end up over thinking about it until you are convinced you are dying of some tropical deadly jaw disease.  I have tried ignoring my jaw/teeth.  It's not working.  My bottom jaw/teeth are in pain. It dawns on me that it may be due to my bad habit of eating ice. I love to eat ice. My dentist has warned me more than once that eating ice is not the best thing for one's teeth. Do I listen, no!  Oh sure, I expect my son not to eat his own boogers. I expect my daughter not to chew with her mouth open, but when it comes to ME, I can chew ice until my teeth fall out!  So why am I bitching? 

July 1, 2000 - I got all two acres of grass mowed today, by golly.  Now I can relax and enjoy next week with no immediate concerns.  I have a good farmer's tan going.  People will be jealous of me and my stunning random tanning.  (What I call tanning just means more freckles - I swear I am an albino).  As I mowed (and since it's the first Saturday of the Month) they tested the local sirens.  The city to my North started it out, and then the city to my south kicked it.  Even with the mower going, I could hear them loud and clear.  My son and his friend just kept playing. They didn't even look up or act as if those sirens phased them in the least. I remember when I was little it was always something 'scary' to hear the sirens being tested.  We would look up in the sky and run to the house just to make sure there were no inbound missiles or tornadoes headed our way.  As teens, we would wonder if the nuclear plant 60 miles away was having a meltdown. My oldest son is still hesitant of the first Saturday's testing of the sirens. When he was around two years old, we were driving down the road just sightseeing on Saturday.  It just so happened we drove by a testing station at the exact time the siren went off LOUDLY.  The siren was pointed straight our way and his window was right in line with that siren. It scared my son so bad that he flew out of his seat and practically blew through the window on the other side.  Even though he's almost twenty years old now, he still cringes when he hears them go off.  I guess the fact that my youngest son doesn't fear them is a good sign. A sign of more peaceful times?  We can only hope ...

My daughter came back from her trip.  She has talked non stop since she arrived.  From what she has been saying, I would have to say that she had a pretty good time up North. Sparky, her dog, was so happy to see her she was throwing herself in the air in huge arcs of happy dog dancing. Then Sparky had a spaz fit to end all spaz fits, pulling the other two dogs and three cats into her wake as she ran.  It was a bit chaotic there for a while. We all survived.

I am off to set off some fire works with my kids. My son is still trying to live down the angst of having the neighborhood see his underwear on the clothes line.  I think he is thinking some kick ass fire works will fix all things. He is wearing his ear muffs to pad the sound of them so he looks like a tiny little air traffic controller. I would have much rather been at the Verve Pipe concert tonight at one of the summer festivals to be honest.  I love that group.  I remember the first "rock and roll" concert I ever went to. The band Yes was in concert at our local arena.  We had never been to a rock concert and didn't know what to expect.  We did know, however, that we needed a male to go with us. For protection of course.  Oh, yeah, and to buy beer.  Smile. The chosen male was Terry. Vickie really had a thing for Terry.  I really had a thing for beer.  Terry drove us, but I cannot for the life of me remember how we hornswoggled him into it.  He had a new van and it was his "baby."  He warned us several times that we were not to hurt his van in any way.  (i.e. barf in it).  The Yes concert in itself sucked big time.  People were puking next to us and the band played maybe one popular song everyone knew.  Apparently the year of 1979 was not the year to see Yes in concert.  (Years later on a VH1 special, I would learn that was the year they were breaking up).  We kept Terry busy fetching us alcohol in mass volumes. I do remember making Vickie go with me to the bathroom so I could throw up.  I also remember laughing the whole time I was doing it. Vickie reminds me from time to time how she remembers seeing my bottom half under the bathroom door facing the toilet paying homage to the porcelain god.  At least I didn't throw up on the stairs like half the people in the arena did!  On the way home from the concert, I do recall Terry letting me drive his van back to his apartment. DRIVE his VAN!  That was his BABY!  Now why he would let me drive is van is beyond me.  It never dawned on me that Terry may be far more drunk than myself.  It never occurred to me that maybe he had plans for Vickie in the back of the van. All I knew is that I was driving "the" van.  I felt so special.  I assume we all made it home alive since I am telling the story now, but the details on how we got home have long since vanished from my memory banks.  Wait, I do remember something else.  Either Vickie farted or I farted in the van. Terry was so taken aback!  All he could say was "Girls FART?" He honestly didn't know females emitted gaseous fumes!  It is not like we grabbed our butt cheek and hiked it up to let one rip!  Geez.  His mother must have been far more of a lady than I am even to this day.  Ah, memories!  Belch.

July 5, 2000 - Yesterday was the perfect day.  The Air Show was wonderful!  The Canadian Snowbirds were excellent as always, and the Thunderbirds did an extra cool job, buzzing the crowd three times!  Woo Hoo!  The last time the solo flyer buzzed over, no one was expecting it and as my daughter said, all you could see was 200,000 people ducking their heads in unison. (I was jumping up and down screaming with joy which is normal for me. I love the big jet fly overs).  My friend Sue came with us. She was excited to be going, which made it even more fun for all of us.  She one of the coolest people I know.  She had never seen a mass balloon launch, and all the balloons went up that evening!  Even the specialty balloons like the huge daisy and the sun and the snowman and the pumpkin.  Hot air balloons rock!  Sugar Bear went up, and my son's favorite, Tony the Tiger.  What a sight.  I hope some of my pictures come out good enough to post here on the page for you all to enjoy.  I know I want my ashes spread from a hot air balloon after I'm dead 'n gone. What a majestic sight, all those balloons in the air at once... 113 balloons last night. The fireworks by Grucci were THE BEST I've ever seen!  They had the usual spectacular display, but they also had new ones that made smiley faces when they exploded, and also ones that were gold and formed a huge ball that seems to melt within itself with molten colors of gold. My daughter called it the 'death star' firework. All I know is everyone was saying that they were 'freaking us out' with those 'death stars' ... an odd and enjoyable visual effect it was. Sigh. I spent a ton of money on those cool glow in the dark rings and we were all decked out and aglow with those. My daughter was a bit down during the day because she said the announcer for the festivities was "lame" and "boring" and "he gives me a headache" and "can't someone smack him up?" and "if he makes the crowd say Wazzzzzz Up one more time, I will just puke!"  She did however seem to enjoy meeting and shaking hands with some of the ground crew from the Thunderbirds.  (Sue and I enjoyed looking at some of the ground crew from the Thunderbirds).  Even the normal two hour trek out of the parking lot area took only one hour. It was the perfect day.

I was very sleepy and sick feeling today after getting all that sun yesterday.  A sun hangover as it were.  The sun and I do not get along.  Ever since I was laid up for two weeks with a horrific sun burn back when I was 16 years old and working in the cornfields for a summer job, the sun and I have been at odds. Too much sun and I just get sickly feeling, but it was worth the lethargic day today for such a wonderful day yesterday.  There was rain the day before, and today it has been cloudy as all get out, but it cleared up like someone scheduled a perfect day yesterday!

My Uncle Chuckie died Monday night. He was the youngest of all the brothers and sisters on my Dad's side. He was born in 1930, quite a space apart from all the other brothers and sisters.  He didn't hang around with many of them from what I can remember from my youth.  My Dad's family went that extra step to be really dysfunctional. I imagine Chuck just didn't want to deal with all of that crap. I don't blame him, really.  I do have fond memories of him when we did get to see him as I was growing up. Weird, I remember going to visit them when I was around six or so and that is my first memory of eating watermelon. Sitting on the front steps with my cousins spitting out seeds.  It's odd to think I have cousins out there I barely remember meeting. His memorial service is Friday, and I plan on going. Only one brother remains now -  Uncle Ralph.  He lives in a supervised care facility up North.

And just when you lose faith in your State's Department of Transportation:  I had seen a sign on the way home last week from up north about the thingys on the side of the road that make that terrible roaring noise.  It had the name of the 'bumps' and I thought, "cool, how appropriate" when I saw the name on the sign.  So when I got home and was trying to tell people about it, I forget completely the name of the 'bumps' and the story makes me look like a complete idiot.  In my desperation, I wrote to the MDOT to get help.  I figured they'd never answer such a stupid question as this:

Dear MDot,
  On the way to Schoolcraft from Grand Rapids on 131, there was some
construction going on.  The traffic was routed to the right a bit, and a
signed warned of bumps in the road.  It's been driving me crazy!  The sign
had a specific name for those bumps or ruts in the road, but I can't for the
life of me remember WHAT!  I know this sounds stupid, but it is bugging the heck out of me what the
name of those lines of grated holes are called!  Any help here would be wonderful.
  Thanks -  Sandy

Now, I never did honestly expect an answer back!  But today I received one!  Way too nice of them.  I feel a heck of a lot better knowing the name of those things!

Dear Sandy,
It's not a stupid question...we've all had little things nag us  from time to time.
The name of the "bumps" on the shoulders is "rumble strips."
The Michigan Department of Transportation now routinely grinds these strips into freeway shoulders as they have proven an effective way to wake up a sleepy driver.  If I can be of further assistance, please contact me.

Now, we can all sleep better tonight knowing the name of the things carved in the roads!  Rumble Strips!  Who would have ever thought!  My Stars!

July 6, 2000 - I rented and watched "Bicentennial Man" tonight.  I sobbed through the whole movie like a girl.  Now why, I'm not sure.  I don't remember the story making me sob when I read it.  (I read it way back in sci-fi class in high school).  Maybe I just needed a good cry?  I adore Robin Williams and his work.  The movie was well done.  I will  have to re-read the story to see how far off it was.  My favorite book(s), the Dune Series by Frank Herbert, well - when they did that first book as a movie, it sucked.  (The movie, that is). So maybe this movie is way off too.  For a movie, though - in itself - well, it made me cry like a baby.  I give it two thumbs up and a box of Kleenex.

And now like any good female, I will go off and have a good cry about other things that have absolutely nothing at all to do with the movie I just saw.  It is required by genetic law, I believe.  I will cry myself to sleep and wake up tomorrow with a swollen face, and I will be a better human for it.

July 7, 2000 - My son and I ate out tonight then drove over to watch the last mass launch of hot air balloons for this year.  Sigh.  How wonderful that sight is.  We then had to go 'potty' (indicated to me by my son's death grip on his lower regions and lots of hopping around) so we drove to Meijers to use the 'potty' and since we were "there anyways ..." as my son so kindly pointed out we might as well go shopping around.  So we shopped.  Of course, shopping to a seven year old means "toy section only" and since we were there anyways we might as well buy him some Legos.  His sister is spending the night with her cousin, so it was just us 'guys' as my son says when we do an outing together.  (It's my mustache that throws him off my gender, I'm sure).  So "us guys" got Legos and drove home and now he's on the floor assembling the Legos.  He gets so frustrated over things when he cannot figure them out the first try.  "This will NEVER go together:  they made it all wrong!" he'll cry out and throw things to the ground.  Sigh.  I have tried to explain to him over and over that patience is a virtue and things usually work out in the end if he would just calm down.  He does not believe me.  He is convinced nothing will work out and when it does work out, he is giddy as a school girl.  I don't know how to alter this behavior in him, to be honest.  Any suggestions here would be gladly accepted!

I sat up 'til two in the morning last night reading.  The only reason I stopped is because all of the body parts below my neck lost all sensation of touch from me sitting in one place so long.  I was amazed at the fact I didn't have to pee a million times!  Normally, had I been sleeping, I would have made two trips to the bathroom by two in the morning!  I am thoroughly enjoying my new book, no doubt to my bladder's chagrin.

July 10 2000 - My first day back to work wasn't bad at all.  I got a LOT of hugs from many people!  I think they missed me!  Ah, they like me!  (They really like me!)

I finished reading my book!  It was a good book. I am glad I read it.  Saturday night I stayed up until four a.m. trying to finish the book. I read all but two chapters.  I was bound and determined I was going to get it done before I went back to work from vacation.  I finished it up on Sunday before the Simpsons came on.  I sat there and savored the thought of it like a fine wine after I was done. Contented Sigh.  Now, I must re-read the next and last book of the Dune series, "Chaperterhouse: Dune" - now that I've read the 'missing link' I didn't have, the last one will make more sense!  I adore reading.  (As long as it is not a user's manual for a machine or software at work.  I used to hate reading manuals, but my friend Mike K. always told me "never underestimate the power of a manual" or was it "a person could take over the world if he read enough manuals" ?? I forget. Turns out he was right though.  User manuals are handy things.  Oh, by the way, I have lost my copy of the User's Manual called  "How to Raise Your Children So They Don't Tell Everyone At Cocktail Parties When They Are Adults That They Come From A Dysfunctional Sloth-Like Family").  I would have loved to meet Frank Herbert in person.  I bet he would have been a cool person to talk with.  I also want to spend the day with Robin Williams before I die.  He too, would be interesting to try to keep up with mentally.

I took my kids into the pool tonight. We got in at seven thirty and I no sooner had I started skimming out dead bug bodies when a line of very dark clouds came our way. "Every body out of the pool!" I said, and pushed the kids out despite the arguments.  As soon as we got out, it rained a bit, but the clouds were very low and dark and I had no desire to get water fried by a lightening strike with the kids in the pool.  We came inside and the kids went about their normal Lego duty and In Sync listening duties.  By eight it was sunny and clear!  My youngest decided that all was well weather wise, notified his sister, and it was back into the pool.  I 'ran' 25 laps around the pool.  My daughter poked me periodically with the skimmer when I slowed down.  "Faster, Mom!  Faster!"  Tomorrow I'm going for 30 laps, hopefully without major coronary distress.

I was listening to someone's voice mail today at work.  (I had to leave them a message).  I could hear the 'puffed up' sound of that person when they stated their title.  Mind you, it's ok to be proud of who you are and what you are.  Titles, though, always baffled me. Some people take their title and abuse things and/or other people in a work environment.  This bothers me.  When people actually believe a title behind their names on a business card means they've 'made it' in life, I feel sorry for them. Be proud, but don't forget - we all still wipe after a bowel movement.  (Ah, poop!  The great equalizer).

July 12, 2000 - I am up to 35 laps around the inside of the swimming pool.  It's just a small above ground pool, but for someone who mainly walks from here to the refrigerator, those 35 laps almost killed me!  Nice thing about exercising in water is - You Don't Sweat!  (Well, you might, but who's to know?)

Work has been wonderful since vacation.  My head is clear and I've gotten a lot done.  lus, I don't come home all stressed.  I am sure that will change in a few weeks, but for now it's kinda nice.  The kids have been pretty decent, too. No broken bones or dead bodies strewn about all hapless like when I get home. There are a lot of women at work just ready to have a baby or having them as we speak or they have had had them recently.  Ah, it gives us old timers a chance to whine about all the pain we had been through ...  "I remember when I  was in labor for 62 hours and still had to do laundry and darn socks while balancing plates on a tiny dowel on my nose while barking like a seal - the whole while, hosting the PTA Meeting!" ... "Oh, that was NOTHING!  I gave birth while landing a plane after the pilot fainted from seeing my water break!!  The whimp!  Anyway, I named the baby 'Pam Anne' - get it?" ...  "Oh, you all don't know pain!  I hemorrhaged for three days after my first kid.  They would come in every four hours and cram their hands up inside of me and pull out clots the size of small watermelons!  Now THAT was pain!  Heck, I'd rather have pooped out quadruplets than go through THAT!"  I think a great new birth control method would be to gather mothers that have had at least three kids and send them out to high schools for assemblies.

July 20, 2000 - I have finished re-reading the "Dune" series from start to finish.  My eyeballs are hanging by their nerve endings.  It's not a pretty sight, but I feel so content.  Finally, I have the 'whole' picture.  I wish I could 'purr'; if I could, I would.

My youngest has been whiny from a summer cold. My son says he can't blow his nose due to the fact his "boogers are all hard and up and ain't goin' no where" and "the snot just goes down my throat, not in the hanky!"  Now there's a slogan for M&M's!  He has been wanting to 'snuggle' at night.  So we do.  Snuggle and read a book.  We've gone almost through the whole collection we have of Dr. Suess. I figure he's not going to be small enough to 'snuggle' for long, so I'd better get it where I can.  My daughter is as tall as I am, and going higher. We tend to just hug now.  No more snuggling.  The young years go too damned fast.  I can see why the youngest tends to get away with murder.  My siblings say I did. As I think back, I did push things to the limits with my parents, but they seemed to let a lot slip by without punishment or retribution.  It's the "last one in the nest" theory, I believe.  If I didn't already have a house full of critters, I'd be tempted to get a puppy to baby so as not to spoil my youngest so much.  He is a spoiled brat!!!

I laid in bed last night thinking about how more than half my life is over.  I'll be 40 this year.  It wasn't a bad thought.  I didn't get scared at the thought of eventually dying as I did years ago.  I didn't get sad because I'm not a famous author or rocket scientist or recording star.  It did dawn on me though that I'm still 'me' and half of 'me's' life is already over!  I believe we all get to that point where we see our lives no longer as a bare canvas waiting for us to paint, but more of a tiny little sticky note with hardly any 'sticky' left on the back. I think we NEED to feel that way so we enjoy our final years in a proper manner. Normally people waste a lot of time until they have the 'sticky note' moment.  It is only then they realize that they should stop and smell the roses.  I have been lucky to remember to smell the roses most of my life.  Every day I get over one more 'petty stupid thought process' that keeps me from truly enjoying life. No doubt my friends and family feel I'm just not interested in anything as of late. This is not true.  I am. Just some things I cannot spend too much time on anymore.  It's too easy to fall into the "petty" thought patterns of "Why don't I have more?" or "why is she prettier than me?" or "I can't believe that person could do that to me!" or "I am the only human in the whole world that feels sad and lonely and sorry for themselves". As Garfield once said in a rather well drawn cartoon, "We are all entitled to a good bout of self pity" and I agree, but we mustn't wallow in it too long.  Cry if you need to.  Smack around a pillow with your enemies picture taped on it, then get over it. Ask someone for a hug because we all need them from time to time. Go get mental medical help if you need to!  (Heck, I had to!)   What you don't want to end up doing is losing the 'sticky'.

July 25, 2000 - My daughter has gone full steam in to puberty.  Two months shy of her 13th birthday, no less!  She giggles constantly over boys and says - like - you know - the word 'like' - like- you know, maybe -like- forty times in one sentence. She also has a forehead full of zits. Sometimes, they get so painful and huge she actually asks me to pop them.  (Yes, it's gross.  We all know zit popping is gross.  Any woman, though, will tell you that it's some deep rooted primitive instinct in a female to make things ooze out of pores). There are other times that I take it upon myself to pop some of her zits on my own.  She will squirm and scream "You're - like - KILLING ME!" as I do it and threaten to call the authorities to report child abuse.  "You are squeezing out my BRAINS!!!" she will scream.  (This statement always amuses me ... brains?)  Mind you, this is all going on while I have her pinned up against the bathroom door as I examine her greasy teenage forehead.  My youngest son will watch this and encourage me "get her good Mom!"  The other day, though, during a rather LOUD confrontation, my son watched his sister scream and squirm for a while and eventually quietly said "fascinating, VERY faaasssscccciiiinnnnnating..." Too funny.

July 26, 2000 - Today at work went quite well. Things where working very well.  Problems were resolved in a timely manner, and if I may say, resolved well.  It was a good day.  Well?  You know that couldn't last too long!

I had parked up close to the building after lunch and had left all my windows down since it was so warm out. I don't like to leave the windows rolled up when it's so hot out due to the fact that over the last 15 years I've had my rear view mirror melt and fall off the windshield maybe like 30 times. Leaving the windows open when there is no threat of rain seems to help this problem some. It sure didn't look like rain!  Plus, where I work it's mainly farm country all around. I usually don't have too much fear someone will steal anything from my car.  (It also helps I have nothing in my car to steal).  I went outside around three for my break.  I chatted with Gloria from Quality.  I stretched and looked out over the fields across the road.  A movement in one of the cars in the parking lot caught my eye.

"Gloria, is that somebody in that car?"
"Where?"
"There ... in that car ..."
"I don't think so"
"Yeah, there ... in that car ... wait, that's MY car!"
"Your car?"
"Wait, there is someone in there!..."
"I don't see anything"
"Oh my God!!  It's a dog!..."
"Where, I don't see ..."
I whistled ... A little head popped up in the back seat of my car!
"Oh, now I see it!"

Gloria and I walked toward the my car. Sure enough, in the back seat of my car, looking at us from between the front seats was a dog.  A spaniel of some type.  "Now I've seen it all!" I laughed.  "How the hell did a dog get in my car?"  I walked around to the driver's side door, and saw how the dog got in!  There were scratches all over the place.  He'd jumped in through that window!  We opened up the door and the dog got further in the back seat.  We opened up the back doors and the dog got in the front seat under the dash. He wasn't acting too mean, just scared to death.  And the doggie was HOT!!  We left the doors open.  I went in to get the doggie some water.  By now quite a crowd has collected, mainly because I walked into the office and yelled, "Hey, do you believe this - There's a DOG IN MY CAR!!"  Brenda came out to see the dog.  "I love dogs" she said.  She tried to coax it out.  The dog wasn't going anywhere. As Brenda and I walked away from the car, Brenda said "Sandy, your life is never boring."  That made me feel good, and I had to laugh.  It isn't, you know - my life, that is ... it's never boring.

My boss came out and Cathy came out. They talked to the dog. They tried to reason with the dog. We tried offering it pretzels. I got my car keys and turned on the air conditioning on for him.  He did come up to feel the air and let me pet him. He still wouldn't leave and not to be rude, but he STANK!!  Why dogs find it necessary to roll in crap?  (Crap is the canine word for cologne)? Cathy and my boss made several suggestions on what I could do.  My boss' first comment was "congratulation - you have a new dog!"  Cathy suggested I take him to our local veterinarian.  My boss gave me permission to take him.  I got back into the office to shut down my computer, but there were problems to resolve before I left. Booger came in later to tell me that "Preston got the dog out!"  Seems Preston also tried reasoning with the dog. They tried bribing it with beef jerky.  Poor Preston was sweating to death in the car as he tried to coax the dog out. Finally, I guess, he just pushed it out. I wasn't going to do that to a strange dog - push it that is!  Preston had more guts than I did.  I walked out just in time to see my little friend sniffing the air by the road.  He then took off sprinting south down the road.  (No, not Preston!) The DOG!  He seemed to know where he was going.  I wonder why in the world he needed to get in a car?  And out of the 75 cars in the parking lot, why MY car? For those of you who don't see humor in this, oh well.  I find this whole thing very very humorous.  Why the heck did I waste all that time yelling at the kids all these years - "DON'T SCRATCH THE CAR WITH YOUR BIKES!!!!"  or "BRING IN THOSE BAGS FROM MCDONALDS!  IF YOU LEAVE THEM IN THE BACK THEY'LL END UP SMELLING LIKE CRAP!" - when it just took one afternoon to achieve all of this, anyway?  Hahahahaaaaaa.... 

August 1, 2000 - The day after the "Hey, There's A Dog in My Car!" incident, I came into work and there was a stuffed dog on my chair. Too funny!!  No one has 'fessed up to the stuffed puppy joke, but it still makes me laugh.  It also reminds me of the time when I was in shipping and receiving years back. I had herded my girls up to the front office for a meeting, and when we came back to the dock bay, everything - and I mean EVERYTHING - was wrapped up in shrink wrap. The boys from materials, Dave and Mike, had wrapped everything up nice and airtight with shrink wrap.  They had woven their way in and out of all of our stock as well.  Our pens and knives and the computer keyboard were sealed to the tables with shipper's tape.  Way too funny.  I appreciate those little things in life that make it fun and worth living!  Those types of moments tend to sneak up on us out of the blue and leave a stupid grin on our faces from the memory.

I had to get my leg x-rayed today, so I wore a shorter dress to work and tennis shoes.  My thought process here ... easier to get to the part of me needing pictures without totally disrobing which would cause me leg pain, and that is why I'm at the doctors in the first place!!  Mind you, I have never had a sense of fashion, and if I do, it's definitely not connected to my logical 'thought process' as I know it, so my attire didn't cause me any second thoughts.  Practical, it was - this 'scan and go' type ensemble.  When I got to work, people would look down at my shoes, then give me a once over.  I would cock my head a bit, wondering what was so unusual about tennis shoes ... besides the fact we are not supposed to wear them in the office?  "Hmmmmmm ... " I pondered.  At the doctor's office, the nurse said to me as she was scooting me around the x-ray table  "you were smart to wear shorts today because it saved you all the disrobing which would cause you leg pain and that's why you are here in the first place!"  Deja Vu, except for the shorts part.  What shorts?  I know my underwear are big, but not short like!?!!!  Oh well ... I let it pass as she maneuvered my body into unnatural positions.   After I got back to work, I got more stares and odd looks. "What the heck is up with these people??!!" I thought.  Well, it took my coworker John to point out what everyone was thinking - that the dress looks like a T-shirt but longer, and the tennis shoes made me look like I had just jumped out of bed and come to work.  Now I get it!!!  Duh. The next class I'm taking at the local college is Fashion Sense 101. I will fail miserably no doubt, but at least I will have tried.

August 4, 2000 - My buddy Jeff found and yanked out my first gray hair from the top of my head today!  I was thrilled.  I have had gray eyebrow hairs, but never found a gray hair on my head!  I'll be 40 in October, so it was high time I got some gray!!  It was pretty when I looked at it.  White on both ends, and dark in the middle.  You know, like that singer -  Blondie?  I don't know why this thrilled me.  It's just one more reminder that I'm another day closer to dying!

My buddy Jeff also threw me to the ground today.  I cannot blame him in the least bit!  I was the one who popped around the corner like Kato from the Pink Panther movies and tried to kick him in 'the nads' as it were. (Normally this is a game for us. I pretend to kick him in the lower extremes and he parry and dodges and we slap each other around awhile). He was taken off guard this time though and protected himself instinctively.  I had kicked with my good leg (the right one) and he caught my foot and turned it enough to throw me off balance. All my fat slid to the left in one fell swoop. Prior to the split second it took for me to slam into the nearby wall and make a feeble attempt to save myself by grabbing the fire extinguisher then plop to the ground, I thought it all out very clearly.  "Now, Sandy, if you try to catch yourself, you will make things worse ... so just let this happen and fall as you fall ..."  So I fell.  Of course the impact was on my left leg, which just had it's picture taken at the doctors. My knee has a nice scrape and aches, but it was aching before, so no big deal. My ankle is swollen, so that is like a bonus. It was no doubt a funny sight. I myself cannot help laughing at people or things when they fall. I did manage to get up on my own and limped gracefully out the door.  Speaking of falling down, it's obviously genetic ....

Yesterday, my daughter called me at work. My youngest son had fallen down the stairs. My daughter's summer job is taking care of her brother. Up until yesterday it had gone along quite uneventfully.  When she called me she was not talking in a panic like way. She was very factual. "I don't see any bones sticking out or anything ..." she said over the screaming of her brother in the background.  I made her give the phone to him and calmed him down enough so I could hear her. "...and there's no blood or goo anywhere, Mom!" she yelled into the phone.  I talked to my son and got him down to a slight sobbing. She told me to 'hang on' while she got her brother onto the couch and got him a pillow. I told her to spray his scrapes with Bactine. I heard her cooing to her brother in a motherly way "... now if this hurts, blame Mom ..."   I also had her get an ice pack for his side, which he had banged on the steps on the way down.

After her brother was doctored up and tucked in and calmed down, she got back on the phone and said to me, "MOM, I COULDN'T BREATHE I WAS SO SCARED 'cause I was letting Odie out to go potty and I heard this 'thumpity thumpity thumpity' and I said to myself GREAT the cats have knocked something down the stairs but then I hear him screaming like he was dead or something so I ran in the house and find him at the bottom of the stairs and I'm thinking like you know that OH GREAT HE'S DEAD or SOMETHING and I checked him and he was still alive and breathing and SCREAMING and my HEART WAS RACING and I got him into the living room and he could move and everything so I'm thinking like nothing was broken but he was SCREAMING so loud and then I called you ... "   I immediately asked her to take a deep slow breath before she fainted.  She did.  She then sighed a "motherly" type sigh. "Honey, do you want to know something?" I asked her. "Everyday I go through this in one way or another;  when your brother stays under water too long in the pool ... when you aren't home right on time from school.  Welcome to parent hood, dear!"  She was quiet for a long time.  "Man, Mom - this sucks!!!" was her response.  "I didn't know it was like this when bad things happened!"  I told her the secret is remembering to breathe.

This morning, my son announced as he walked like an Egyptian into the living room, that he was going to "show and tell" his scrapes and bruises today at Summer Reading Camp. "I wanna show my teachers!" he said with pride as he pulled his shirt up to expose one of his bruises. My immediate thought was to tell him "no, don't show them!" but I want him to feel like he can tell adults he trusts important things. I wondered if they would think there was child abuse at home!!  I then thought I should write a note to the teachers, but decided against it.  If there were social workers at my door when I got home, then let it be. It's a pity the people who beat their children to near death don't give these things a second thought, and good parents panic that they will be put in prison for a snotty nose.  Sigh.  Isn't it ironic, don't you think?

August 10, 2000 - It was a lovely day.  I saw the Fuji Film blimp today flying overhead at work.  You know me and balloons!  I just had to watch it for a while!  (Long enough to determine it was "Fuji Film" and not "Good Year").  There was a small group in the parking lot with me, watching over head and listening to it sputter along.  "Maybe they will throw film!!" I ventured ... then I remembered the Thanksgiving Day episode of "WKRP" and decided that perhaps items throw from a blimp would fair as well as those poor turkeys.  Someone from behind asked what we were looking at.  "A blimp" we said.  "Oh, the HUMANITY!!!" I screamed.  (Thank you Jeff for laughing).

When I left for lunch the car was very hot inside. I decided to use my air conditioner. I usually don't like to because it bogs down the car so much.  It's just a little Ford.  I thought that I'd use it for just a while to cool off the interior a tad so my butt didn't get grilled on the seat and the palm of my hands didn't peel away from the wheel.  As I putted down and JUST as I was thinking about the news story I had seen in the morning about the hoards of locus eating everything over in Russia, a huge grasshopper hitched a ride on my windshield. He was poised like a ballerina directly in my line of vision and going no where.  He seemed to be enjoying the wind in his face.  The faster I went, the prouder he looked as he watched the world whip by.  I continued to accelerate the best I could with the air conditioner on, down the main road. The car labored to go faster and faster yet the grasshopper stayed in place.  Then I had an idea, and I smirked to myself.  "Here's for all those poor people in Russia ..." I said as I flipped off the air conditioner.  (Right after that the car jumped into hyper drive and right before I was propelled into another dimension altogether from the increase in speed, I could see the grasshopper's 'face' tighten as he flew up and off and back).

Tonight we ventured out into the big world of school shopping.  With limited budget in hand, we did get two pairs of shoes for my son and three pairs for my daughter!  Thank goodness for the half off shelf!  We also got folders, glue, crayons, scissors, paper, pencils and erasers.  Next week will be the backpacks and a beginning set of clothes.  We found several pair of really cool shoes on the 50% off rack.  I have NEVER been this lucky to find cool shoes for cheap.  I was very happy.  My let the kids get two packs of trading cards each.  My daughter got two of NSTINK, wait - NSYNC and my son got two of Pokemon.  As we were pulling out of the parking lot, there was a live band practicing in the parking lot across the street, and the music was lovely.  A mile down the road, my daughter screamed.  "Oh my GOD!  I got a holographic LANCE card!" she swooned.  Three seconds after that my son screamed "Oh my GOD!  I got a holographic CHARIZARD card!!!"  Both were very happy with their random luck of the draw on trading cards. We ate at McDonalds. We saw many Volkswagens and there was slapping and screaming "slug-bug-no-slug-bug-back" in between lobbing french fries at the birds outside our windows. We drove into town for ice cream. It was delicious ice cream.  Hand Dipped. Creamy. On the way home from there, we saw a hot air balloon!  "This is our lucky night, Mom!" my daughter said. It was a very lucky night.

When we got home my children lead me into the front yard where they claimed they had heard "hissing" and "gurgling" this morning.  We listened.  No noise tonight.  I bet I know what it is.  It's the old feeble dry well(s) that lay out there, waiting to explode with gallons upon gallons of fermenting bodily fluids.  If they could just hold off until I recover from having the new well drilled!!  Sigh.  You have to have a drain field now days.  I am not looking forward to it, but one must relieve oneself from time to time, so whadya gonna do?

August 13, 2000 - I talked to my kids for 45 minutes tonight about bones and spines. I drew pictures.  My daughter has been having neck pain for quite a while.  I have a chiropractor appointment for her and was just letting her know what was going to happen. This little talk turned out to be a long discussion on lots of things. I got to tell them about my panic attacks as a kid, and how I would worry myself into a frenzy.  I had no one to tell, or thought I didn't.   (Actually, I didn't. When I tried to tell my Mom, she immediately thought I was on drugs or claim I could ease any fear if I prayed enough. Mind you, praying does help. I advise everyone to pray.  BUT - fears can be big and ugly and real. Fears for children can take them over, TRUST ME, I know.  Fears for adults can be as bad or worse.  When you are an adult, being out of control is a sign of weakness and is not often tolerated nor understood. A sad thing). The kids opened right up with questions during this stick man - picture drawing - spine and body talk.  More and more questions came out.  It was a wonderful talk.  I am glad I started it.  I will do this more often.  My kids are pretty cool, for kids and all.

I also came to the conclusion, as I have before, but this just enforces my belief that many people out there must suffer from hidden fears that are deep within them. They try to hide them. The harder they try, the worse it will be when they have to face them. Too bad we just can't accept that we have a fear.  Other people have the same fear out there. You are hardly alone.  I used to think I was crazy because of my panics ... my inability to cope through my childhood. Ten to one, my neighbor kid was having troubles too. Why did we try to hide it?  I have seen others through my life fighting fears.  They cried when I said, "Man, do I know how you feel..."  Fear can be real and terrible. Fears can control you. There is help out there for these real fears. Sometimes, life can suck you down into a black abyss that has slippery sides and it's a bitch trying to cling to the edge. There are a lot of us out there that have slid down the sides and managed to get out one way or another. Get help. Talk to someone.

August 18, 2000 -  I had a TERRIBLE four minute bitchy mood hit me this evening.  Where is came from, I do not know.  I just started barking orders and getting pissed at everyone for merely breathing.  Most people would say it's "that time of the month" but I haven't had "that time of the month" since the first of the year, so I am not blaming it on hormones gone bad.  Sigh.  It passed quickly (the kids were very happy about that).  Getting upset over things is one thing.  Staying mad for TOO LONG is another.  Eventually, anger can take it's toll.  I don't think we can all be forgiving 100% of the time. I don't think all things can be forgiven. Yet, I also don't think that one should stay upset over trivial things for more than ... um ... four minutes.

My daughter and I have mounted a campaign against fleas on the animals. This has been a bad year for fleas. She uses the flea comb on them in the morning and I do it again at night. I honestly believe it's now become an obsession with both of us, though. Apparently we are both fascinated about the amount of fleas we get off of them. We both stare into the toilet (where we put them once off the pets) and shake our heads and say "I can't believe there were so many!..."  (FLUSH!  You would have thought the earwigs would have mentioned our tendency toward bug destruction to the fleas).  The cats seem to enjoy their brushing, but the dogs all run when they see the metal flea comb. This is kind of nice, though, because they all 'dog' pile under my desk with their butts hanging out and they get wedged in there, so it's much easier to comb them.

Other than the unexplained burst of anger tonight, the week was fairly mellow. The kids are anxious to go back to school come Monday morning.  (That will last approximately three minutes into Monday).  My well water still has not passed the Health Departments bacteria tests, so as I type, it's going through it's third chlorinating process. It gets tested on Monday.  Cross your fingers.  Someone brought in a grocery bag of green beans to share with our end of the offices so I drew stupid  faces on some and stuck stupid notes with them (like, "where have you bean all my life?" and "hell bean-t for leather") and left them all over Jeff's cubicle.  I also taped five together and made had them looking over the cubicle wall at him in a Petticoat Junction type mode. I thought it was immensely funny. There was a sign by the bag of beans - "Help Yourself" - so I made a talking bean saying "No!  Help ME!"  I need to see someone for this dire need to write on fruits and vegetables ... I also wrote letters this week to friends and mailed them out.  I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that.  Speaking of mailing stuff out ...

For most of my life, and I have no clue WHY, I have wanted to take any Canadian coins I get and randomly pick someone in Canada from a Canadian phone book, and send the coins back up there.  You know, stick a coin or two in an envelope, and just mail it.  Years from now when you hear on the news about someone "who sends coins to people in Saskatchewan for no apparent reason ..."  remember, you knew me when!

August 25, 2000 -  I started vacation tonight.  I don't technically go back to work until September 5th.  I will still call into work and do stuff from home.  I realized tonight that except for the kids and work, I have no life.  I wasn't even sad about it. If I make it until 2011, I'll be 51 years old and home free. I will take up some odd hobby like nude hula dancing and travel. I will see the world and send postcards to the kids and grand kids - "wish you were here .... psych!"  I'll send them a live lobster from the shores of Maine and a didgeridoos from Australia.  Of course, all of these plans depend on the event I come into a slew of money between now and then.  I don't foresee that happening, but you never know. I might slip and fall on a pack of cigarettes, and then I can sue the tobacco company for not warning me I might slip and fall if I slipped on a pack of cigarettes!  (They did studies, the tobacco companies did!  They hid the truth from the public! There will be Congressional Hearings on this, I swear. How could ANYONE know that slipping and falling on cigarettes could be so dangerous?  What is the general public, Rocket Scientists?  Geez!!)

The water finally got a clean bill of health from the Health Department!  Woo Hoo!  No more cooties.

Today at work the cicadas were making there noise that they make. I don't think any letters of our alphabet represent that sound well, so I will assume you all know the sound they make. One group would start up and get so loud and fade out. Another group would start up and then fade out. They did it in a way that is sounded like cicada surround sound  Kinda cool.  Almost like the light saber sound in Star Wars.  My sister said they actually got to see a cicada "molt" -  or lose it's hard crusty skin, or what ever it is they do. My friend Vern works at a spice factory and says they grind up certain types of dried beetles into a powder and sell it to places as food die. Carmine, I think he called it. It's used for things that need a bluish tint to them. All your life you've been eating bugs and didn't know it!!  What was I talking about, anyway? ... Speaking of tangents ...

At work we were discussing people's age.  Polly is 45, and no one believed it.  People sometimes doubt I'll be 40 soon.  The group got on to the subject of people looking younger than they really are, and Betty mentioned Dick Clark. "Geez, I remember being little and watching him on Bandstand!!  Hell, I'm old NOW, he must be ancient!!"  The group decided he must be a clone of the original Dick Clark, and they keep growing new ones and replacing him.  I said, "can you imagine his maid cleaning his house, walking in to a room to dust and there three or four jars of Dicks sitting there, all different sizes ..."  The group just all exploded with laughter.  Things flew out of our noses. I did not intent to make a joke about male body parts but it came out that way in our mind's eye. Well, you can imagine for yourself where the conversation went from there.

August 28, 2000 - Day One of My Vacation.   I was tempted today to call the people who installed the new well to ask if they had used lead pipe.  Sigh.  My daughter has completely lost her mind as of late and she wasn't overstocked in that area to begin with. She talks so much that she hyperventilates and nearly faints.  Tonight, she was going on and on and on and on and on and on about school and a certain boy when she sat down and hugged the arm of the chair.  "Are you ok?" I asked, running to her.  "I think I am.  I just had a sudden headache, and feel light headed some and felt like I should sit down."  I got her a cold rag to put on the back of her neck, and commanded her not to speak and just relax there in the chair.  She has always had troubles with headaches through her life, but this "nearly fainting" was something new.  Well, maybe not so new.  She flung herself off the swing set once and knocked the air out of herself, then fainted.  Another time, she was trying to do a flip on the monkey bars and yanked her shoulder very hard, and the pain was enough to make her stagger up to the playground supervisor and say, "I need to go inside ..." and the playground supervisor said, "every time I let a kid go in, they never come back out ..." so my daughter said, "ok" and proceeded to faint dead away.  I wouldn't say she's prone to faint, but she has fainted.  She nearly passed out on the first day of school, she had herself so worked up over it.  I think a lot of it has to do with the fact she never breathes when she talks.  Everything is just one long sentence each sentence can last up to an hour. She has been having troubles with her neck/back for some time now.  She goes tomorrow for a chiropractor visit.  I hope getting her spine in line will help her headaches.  I don't know what to do about the teenage part.

Well, I made a chocolate cake this morning. I guess, when you are on vacation with no plans, you feel compelled to do things to prove you at least did something.  After the cake, I mopped the kitchen and bathroom.  I steam cleaned the living room carpet.  I cleaned the bathroom.  I washed rugs and caught up on laundry.  I flea-combed the dogs and cats.  I changed the sugar water in the hummingbird feeder and filled the bird feeder.  I gave peanuts to the squirrels. I dragged back limbs that had fallen from the storm over the weekend.  I made pork chops, mashed potatoes, and sweet corn for dinner.  Through this all, I played all of my Toad and the Wet Sprockets CD's very loudly. I also played a CD by Live and Dog's Eye View.  It felt so GOOD to hear music and hear it loud.  Of course, at my age, that is the only way I can hear it!  Smile.  All in all, it was a productive day.

My laptop got 'zapped' during the storm over the weekend and blew up the modem.  I took it to work on Sunday to try to fix it.  I tried four different modem cards.  Nothing. I left it there with a whining note for Booger to fix it.  "Dear Booger. I have no life. Fix my PC so I can live vicariously through the Internet once again." Boog fixed it, and it's back up and running.  He did give me a lecture on storms and electrical appliances, though.

Last week when my daughter was walking the dogs, Sparky ran into a hornet's nest, literally!  They stung her rear hind quarters up good before my daughter could brush them off and stamp them dead.  Odie got stung on the face, and his left eye was swollen shut for a few days.  I am ever so thankful it was the dogs and not the kids!!!  My daughter did the right thing, though.   When the bees started biting, she told my son to run to the house and she did too, calling the dogs.  Several bees stayed with the dogs all the way up to the house, but she managed to get them squashed. Now, whenever anything touches Sparkys butt, she jumps a foot high!  It's kinda cute.  When she was sleeping today, I poked her rear with a pencil.  Man, was she up and off the couch in a hurry. My son was throwing popcorn at her the other night, and she would flip around when a kernel hit her rear like it was on fire. Ok, I know!  We are mean!  But it's funny .... smile.

August 29, 2000 - Day Two of My Vacation. I trimmed up some bushes that had grown afros during the summer. Boy, howdy, are my cutting shears dull!  I would have done better to chew off those branches. It was very humid and I was sweating like a horse at full gallop.  hen I mowed the lawn. I will be the first to admit I mow like a blind weasel on acid. I get tired of mowing over here, I go mow over there.  By the time I am almost done, I've completely forgotten what I have done and haven't done, so I have to drive around for a while checking things out.  It did get done. I also killed the bees that attacked the dogs. I thought they were in the ground, but actually, they had a cool paper like two story under the pine treat.  It took two cans of bug spray, but I think they are no more. I made scalloped potatoes and ham for dinner. I threw those in the oven so they could cook while I took my daughter to the chiropractor.

Yesterday, my son left his glasses at school.  Now mind you, these are BRAND NEW glasses!  Apparently the little ditty the eye doctor told him, "if they aren't on your face, they are in your case" didn't sink in.  I had threatened him with various evil motherly punishments if he broke or lost them. He knew he was in trouble last night when he came home. "I left my glasses at school, ok?!!  I have a headache, too, so am going to take a nap!"  He curled into the chair and fell asleep. This morning we searched the school. Not in his desk or in the office. Diane and Peggy put out an all points bulletin on them, and helped my son retrace his steps.  No good.  No glasses.  Sigh.  I was planning out in my head how I would come up with money for a new pair ... "I'd have to sell a kid or work at McDonald's at night ..."  I left a note for his teacher.  "If you find his glasses, would you please staple them to his head?"

When he got home from school tonight, we loaded him and my daughter in the car to get her to her first chiropractor appointment.  Our family doctor was concerned about her having curvature of the spine at her last physical, and she has been having neck pain and headaches. I know the chiropractor worked wonders for me. My son played in the toy area while my daughter and I went back to the room. She told him all her "problems" and he examined her.  He then took x-rays. "Cool, we are gonna see your GUTS!" I said!  Sure enough, she had a slight curve of her lower spine, and her neck was way out of whack!  "Wow, Cool!" my daughter said. "There is the inner you" I laughed, as we looked at the x-rays. "Hey, are those her intestines?" I asked, pointing at a blob on her x-rays.  "Yep" the doctor said "and they are full!"  (Guess what she did when we got home?)  He put her neck in place, and I wish I had a camera for the look on her face when he did that!  It was LOUD and crackly!  "Man!  Wow!"  she said, in a bit of a daze.  He then worked on her hip, and off we went.  My son had cleaned the toy area up and organized it very nicely. "See, I cleaned up!" he said, puffing out his chest.  No doubt, he was shooting for brownie points to pad the lost glasses punishment.

We looked for his glasses when we got home. The more I looked, the more dirt I found behind things. Spider webs and dust ... "I get SO MAD when you lose things that makes me see more dirt that I have to clean!" I yelled at my son. Still no glasses, though.  I took away his Game Boy.  What else was I to do?  He's seven. He can be entertained by a booger for two hours, so I had to find something to make a point!  Now, if you'll excuse me, I  have to print up some "Lost Glasses" posters, and prepare my resume for McDonalds just in case ...

August 30, 2000 - Day Three of My Vacation. Last night I laid in bed thinking back to my elementary days.  In the June 11, 2000 diary entry, I had mentioned Andy.  He would take stuff of mine because he really liked me.  He'd hide things in his desk that belonged to me.  As I said in the diary entry, he stole my prized J.F.K. pencil sharpener.  It occurred to me last night, though, how RUDE was that to have the head of Kennedy with a hole in the back to stick pencils??  Geez!!  People had an odd sense of humor in 1965).  Anyway, I thought to myself, "Ah, it MUST be the Andy!  A little girl has my son's glasses in her desk!!"  I thought I'd rummage through desks near my son's when I got him to school.

We hung up a "Lost Glasses" poster in the Kids Klub where he stays until school starts.  Peggy was a dear and hug up a poster in the the hallway and one in the office window.  I lamented my woes to Diane.  My son and I then went down to his classroom so I could rummage desks. His teacher was in.  I didn't think it would be proper to rummage when she was there. I asked if I could hang up a poster.  We discussed how odd it was that they were missing. "He even has witnesses that verify his story of leaving them on his desk!" she said. "We talked about this in class yesterday."  Sigh.  I could smell the french fries already.  "But, you know ... I never did think to check the desks next to him!" she said, as she went to look in the nearby desks.  "Thank You, Lord!"  I whispered under my breath!  Sure enough, they were in the little girls desk next to him.  "PRAISE THE LORD" I yelled.  My son was smiling ear to ear! "I get my Game Boy back tonight!!" he smiled.  I couldn't thank his teacher enough.  My son put them on his face and patted the sides of his head, as if to "glue" them there.  On the way back to the office, we took down the posters.  We popped into the office, and Diane said, "where did you find them?"  "In a little girl's desk.  It's the Andy Principal!"  She looked at me as if to say, "What?" and I told her to read the diary tonight on line.  Thank you to all the people who helped me get out of a night job at McDonalds!  (Not that there is anything wrong with McDonalds...)

When I got home, I peeled potatoes for potato soup tonight for supper, did a load of wash, scooped kitty poop and swept up.  Then I took a nap.  I didn't really sleep.  I just laid there.  But it was relaxing.  When I got out of bed, I sorted out all the CD's I have. I got up and went out to play in the pool. I even took off my shorts and T-Shirt and went skinny dipping.  It feels very peaceful being naked in water.  I played alligator and prowled around the trying not to move the surface of the water too much.  Muffy the cat  jumped up on the edge of the pool and demanded attention.  He puts his tail in the water like he's fishing.  I itched his neck for a while, and he tried to roll around like a happy cat, but almost fell in!  Hahaha.  He still stayed there, half wet.  He finally went to sleep on the top part ladder and continued to play naked human alligator until I thought my daughter would be coming home soon.  No need to gross out the kids on the bus!  It was very relaxing, however.  I would also like to take this opportunity to thank my friend Jeff Day who closed up his pool a week or so ago, claiming we'd never get any hot weather.  I am convinced that if he had not closed up his pool early, that it would be snowing by now.  Murphy's Law of Pool Shut Downs! 

September 3, 2000 - Well, I finished out my vacation in grand style.  The kids had Friday off, so we went mall cruising.  We saw my oldest son and had lunch all together.  It was nice.  One the way back home, we got caught in a bona fide traffic jam on the highway.  That's when my "check engine" light came on.  My son was worried over this.  "Do you have your cell phone?" he asked.  We passed a large oil burning truck and he yelled   "I smell something burning!!"  We ran over a piece of wood in the road ... "did you hear that?  Is something making noises in the engine?  Is that light still on? ....."  Before he worried himself into a frenzy, I decided instead of going to do grocery shopping that we should come home first.  We went swimming instead.  It was a nice way to officially end my vacation.  I will schedule my car for a check up on Tuesday.

My oldest son also came over to spend the day yesterday.  That was nice.  He played with his brother, listened to his sister talk and talk and talk and even acted interested, and he stayed and ate dinner with us.  He did two loads of wash while he was here. We swam for a long time.  It was great.  I mowed the lawn AGAIN on Saturday.  For mostly odd types of weeds, my lawn grows like crazy!  I finished trimming the bushes in the yard. Now, I have bushes that look like they are ready for entry into the Armed Forces.

Today was mainly a lazy day for the most part.  We read books, colored,  and watched some of the Mayberry - Andy Griffith show marathon on TVLand.  (My kids laughed out loud at Barney Fife).  Tonight my son "wanted to cuddle" with me.   "Why do you need to cuddle with me?" I asked him, seeing as I was not in the mood to cuddle with him at the moment.  "Well, 'cause you smell pretty good, is why" he replied.  Awwwwwwwwwww!  How could a Mom say no to that?!  So, we cuddled a while.  He's getting way too tall to cuddle much longer, that's for sure.  He put his face into my shirt and took a nice long deep "smell" and said "aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh...."  Smile.  One of the many tiny little perks of motherhood.

September 7, 2000 - Tonight was my daughter's Open House for seventh grade. It was fun.  I love to meet the teachers and see their some of their friends.  I like to see the learning environment my children are in.  I absolutely love the school district I'm in. The community passed much many millage dollars several years back, and have added on more classrooms, equipment and other cool things.  Tonight at Open House I saw Jeanine and her husband Dave. They were both in my graduating class. I have always adored Jeanine since Junior High School.  She was a hoot.  She is beautiful and very alive.  She's eight feet taller than me, too.  Hahaha.  If I remember correctly, in Junior High I called her "J-9."  Jeanine and Lisa would call people "hernias" and "spazzes" and I thought that was the funniest thing since Carol Burnett!  We didn't bum around in High School, but she holds a special place in my heart. If they were there at Open House, it must mean they have moved back, which makes me happy.  Next week is my son's Open House.  At his Open House, we get ice cream.  WooHoo!!

I was helping my son with reading homework the other night.  It was late and he was tired in general, let alone "tired of all these stupid words" as he so kindly put it.  He was having trouble with the word 'lots' - he stared at it forever. I thought I'd help him out a little.  Sometimes if I tell him the sound of the vowel he can figure the word out.  I'll say "that's a long e, not a short e" or the like.  So after he had stared at the word 'lots' long enough to become comatose, I finally gave him the hint "the o isn't long."  He continued reading "...slong to do today."  I busted out laughing.  Sometimes it pays to do homework earlier in the evening when all their brain cells are still participating.  Smile.

September 14, 2000 - Today my daughter turned 13.  She has been a spaz all week.  All excited about being 13.  I want to tell her, "Cripes, kid - your life flies by at the speed of light as it is, don't wish to get older ..."  but that's kind of depressing. Let her be excited.  I used to be excited about birthdays.  I still get pretty geeked over Christmas.  So, let her have her fun.  That is what half of all the problems in the world today stem from anyway - we all forget to have fun.  I am having a party for her this weekend.

My daughter was sick last weekend.  My son missed Monday and Tuesday with fever and cold and projectile snot.  I did get to work Wednesday, thank goodness, but I felt like warmed over dog poopie.  By the time I got home Wednesday night, I could barely move.  Thank the Lord for Hamburger Helper.  I went to bed by 8:00 p.m.  I would shiver with fever, then the fever would break, and I'd soak the bed sweating.  I didn't mind too much.  I was too out of it to mind. Let my body fight the good fight, and I'll just lay here and hallucinate about squirrels. I always "see" squirrels when I have a bad fever.  I wonder why?  I was never attacked by one as a youth or bilked out of a fortune by a squirrel.  Oh well.  I got up around 1:30 and staggered into the bathroom, took my temperature - it was 102, then managed to get eight balloons blown up and thrown about for my daughter's birthday morning.  I printed out a bunch of silly little smile face notes that said "Happy 13th Birthday" and put some in her trombone case and in her notebooks, on the bathroom door, and all over.  Then the squirrels and I went back to bed.

I got up this morning, and called my boss to tell him I wasn't coming in.  My daughter got ready for school and bounced all over practically screaming "TODAY'S MY BIRTHDAY" and my son entertained himself by putting the balloons over the fan in the living room, watching them bounce and waltz about.  He had pointed the fan at the roof and figured this balloon magic out and thought it was the coolest thing.  All the static on the balloons gathered tons of pet hair as well, so not only did the balloons dip and weave above the fan, there was also a small hairball type tornado too.  You can't get that kind of entertainment on cable!!  Normally I take him to Kids Klub at his elementary school in the morning, but I called and had the bus pick him up this morning.  I was too weak to drive.  As he left for the bus, he told me "Mom, if you get bored, you can play with the balloons and the fan!!"  After he got on the bus, I crawled back into bed and slept until 3:30 this afternoon.  I woke up to the bass from the stereo pounding through the bedroom wall.  My daughter was home.  She told me all about her day.  She had a good birthday at school. We heated up pizza rolls for dinner.  She blew out the candles on her cake.  She opened her presents.  Tonight was also my son's Open House at school.  I had hoped his Dad would take him so I didn't have to get up and about, but he wouldn't.  My son was quite upset by the fact that he "had worked on a neat surprise all day for tonight and e v e r y t h i n g ..." so I got in the shower and we went to his Open House.  It was nice.  They had made pictures of their own heads and had taken in a t-shirt from home, rigged the head up with a coat hanger in the t-shirt, and everyone's chair had a "pretend kid" in it.  Kinda cute.  My Dad never went anywhere for us kids when I was young.  He did go to my graduation, true.  I think I was the only kid out of the three that he DID go to graduation for.  But growing up, he never came to anything.  I would be sad.  And my Mom didn't drive, so she couldn't take us.  I think it is important to go see your kids' school and meet the teachers and let them know you care.

Well, me and the squirrels are going to hit the hay soon after I drink my Alka-Seltzer Cold Plus cocktail and dip myself in Vicks Vapor Rub.  (If you get bored, feel free to play with the balloons and the fan!)

September 17, 2000 - Most of the birthday balloons have met their maker, as it were.  My son got tired of the 'magic balloons over the fan pointed at the ceiling' game, and sat on a few to pop them.  A cat got one. The ceiling fan got a few.  No more balloons in the house.  As the musical group Journey once sang "the party's over." The birthday party for my daughter this weekend went well.  Many people came, and it was very nice to have my family there as well as the families of her friends.  Since my house is so small, the party was as a restaurant.  (No clean up for me!)  I got a cake for 40 people, and there was none left.  I forgot to have my daughter open up her presents after cake, so we brought them home.  Sometimes I'm so stupid!  Duh.  She got wonderful things and she was quite happy.  She will be writing many thank you notes!   We stopped and got the cake from the bakery on the way up to the restaurant.  It was decorated very nicely with flowers and balloons.  "What kind is it, Mom?"  my daughter asked.  "It's a marble cake" I replied.  My son stared inside through the top of the cake box most of the way up to the restaurant. He finally asked me "where are the marbles, Mom?"  I love those little unexpected funnies from the kids, although that fact didn't make my son feel any better about the lack of actual marbles.

I can barely talk today.  I am also feeling like the flu/cold that had me earlier this week is still here.  Friday at work, Judy gave me a bag of tomatoes so I thought a good batch of homemade salsa would help my severe snot condition. Since I was young, I thought that homemade salsa and masturbation could cure the world's ills.  I got eight jalapeno peppers at the store as well as regular peppers.  I already had banana peppers at home.  I chopped and chopped and chopped when I got home. Onions, peppers, fresh garlic, tomatoes, parsley, and I even put in four cucumbers.  I have a HUGE pot of homemade salsa.  I ate two bowls tonight with a few chips.  I tapped into a jalapeno pocket, and OH MY GOODNESS did my sinuses drain!  I almost choked myself. It felt good. I sure hope it helps my cold and laryngitis.

Tubby the cat (formerly known as Taffy, but due to his outward expansion ...) has been staring at my one spider plant here in the living room for half an hour.  So now he's got ME staring at the spider plant.  I don't see anything odd about the plant.  But since he seems to think it's interesting, it has me wondering WHAT IS UP WITH THAT PLANT?  Try that today at work ... just walk about or stand somewhere, staring at something.  Nothing in particular, just stare for a while. See how many people come to stand there staring with you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a spider plant to investigate.

September 19, 2000 - As I walked in the door tonight my son popped out of nowhere and jumped up and down and yelled "I'm COOL right?  Huh?  I am aren't I?  I'm cool!!"  I had no choice but to look at his head as he hopped in front of me. "What did you do to your hair?" I asked, afraid of the answer.  It looked like he had put half a bottle of dish soap in it and had made spikes all over the top.  "I put soap in it and made cool spikes" he said.  He was so thrilled with himself I felt compelled to agree that spiked hair looked really good on him.  My son is seven.  He never used to care how he went to school - with chocolate mustaches or snot streaks - it DIDN'T used to matter.  Suddenly he was trying to recreate his look with my Palmolive??   Sigh.  I explained to him that he didn't have to use up my last little bit of dish soap to look cool.  We had special hair "goo" for such things.  He seemed amazed that there were such product on the market.  I showed him the bottle of hair gel we have and he was ecstatic!  "It doesn't smell like soap!"  he exclaimed as I showed him a patch of hair and how it worked with hair gel.  "It doesn't leave rainbow bubbles in your hair either" I said.  My daughter later explained his dire need to spike his hair.  "Becca had her bangs spiked today at school" she explained to me.  "He told me when he got home and I asked him why he was putting dish soap in his hair ..." she continued.  "You didn't stop him?" I sort of lamented in a half sigh, half shrug of disbelief.  "Well, Mom!  It's just soap!  What can that hurt a kid?  Plus he's a stinky old boy!  And he wanted too look cool for his woman!" she said in a matter of fact way.  (Like, Geez, Sandy!  I'm so Stupid!)  Duh!  My daughter is herself lost in a crush of mush and puppy eyed airheaded-ness now.  Her sympathy for her brother was commendable.

September 20, 2000 - I went to the doctor today.  I have bronchitis and sinus infection.  I got lung x-rays.  I had to blow into a tube.  I got three kinds of pills.  By the time I got home, I was pooped.  Reading a story tonight to my son almost made me faint. Pant cough pant hack -"Look at all the pretty colors ... "  The good thing is I know I'm sick.  Why is that good?  Any woman will tell you that if she feels tired for no reason,  it just isn't right.  A woman doesn't like to feel tired for no good reason. Now that I know why I've been feeling like dog poop in a food processor, it justifies the exhaustion, so it's ok to flop in a chair and not move for hours and NOT feel guilty for doing so.  I also realized tonight during a combined session of snot flowing from my nose plus down the back of my throat with a hacking expulsion of goo from my lungs that maybe, JUST MAYBE, two holes to breathe with isn't enough for some humans.  Sigh.

September 25, 2000 - My daughter just came running into the living room almost screaming.  "Mom, I was letting the dog in and I felt this explosion in my side and it hurt so bad and I went to the bathroom 'cause I felt I was gone puke and ...." then she fell on the couch and cried.  It was her "afraid" sobbing as opposed to an exploding appendix type crying, so I didn't panic.  I asked her to let me check her side and stomach.  All seemed intact.  I took her temperature, in case.  It was normal.  I started the tub filling with hot/warm water and stroked her hair.  I asked her to explain the pain to me again.  She did as she cried, but not as hard as before.  I told her about how ovaries can hurt like crazy sometimes when release their eggs. I told her how it can feel like a donkey kicked you in the side for a few minutes. It can even make it hard to breathe for a few seconds.  She seemed to calm down some.  I also instructed her on kidney infections and other exploding body parts, should it ever happen.  We ended up laughing about it, and she soaked in the tub for a while and shaved her legs and felt better all around.  "I honestly thought my kidney exploded, Mom" she said.  You watch way too much Simpsons!" I smiled and hugged her.  I am SO HAPPY I can talk with my kids.  I am SO HAPPY they can tell me their fears.  I wish I had that as child instead of a father who couldn't comprehend valid fears let alone even cared if we were around or a mother who couldn't deal with valid fears either.  I can not stress enough the importance of sharing fears with someone (as you may have picked up on as you have followed my life via this diary).  Some people don't agree with me, I am sure.  

My weekend was spent doing a lot of nothing.  I still felt very tired and sick from the bronchitis.  I took lots of naps.  I went to bed early.  I drank gallons upon gallons of water.  I thanked the Lord I had good water to drink!  We did put up the Halloween decorations.  Sunday afternoon my son started complaining of an ear ache.  He was whiny and lethargic.  He had a slight temperature.  I almost cried.  I felt like there were no steps forward in my house, only backwards.  We sat in a dark living room Sunday night watching all the cool light up Halloween stuff and turned in early.

I took him to the doctors today.  I was almost thankful for the reason not to go into work since I still feel like warmed over turds.  Another day away from work wouldn't hurt my feelings, but of course it only puts me farther behind.  The doctor checked him out and agreed his ear was being bad.  She wrote out a prescription.  We headed to the pharmacy and got the prescription.  Combining gift shops with pharmacies is a wonder of modern times.  "Mom, can I have a Beanie Baby?  I am pretty sick, you know!"  "No!"  "Mom, can I have this talking pumpkin?"  "No!"  "Mom, can I have ...?"  "NO!"  The next logical step here would be to create a chocolate shop inside of a Jenny Craig store. My head was pounding by then. I hate headaches.  As I said before, anyone who deals with headaches on a regular basis has my respect. I don't know how you do it!  Maybe going back to work will be a blessing after all.

I took down my hummingbird feeder Saturday.  When I woke up on Saturday and did my normal 'stretch and scratch in front of the window and gross out passing vehicles' routine, I noticed a chain of bees on the feeder!  Literally, a chain of them all trying to get to the sugar water.  The chain of bees was hanging down at least six inches.  I watched in amazement for a while before I sprayed them into a big dead bee pile on the ground.  Oh, and speaking of mornings ... the sunrises (and sunsets) lately have been remarkably spectacular.  If you get a chance, check them out.  Pollution induced or not, they are still magnificent.

September 26, 2000 - It's five a.m. in the morning.  I just woke up after a very odd dream.  In my dream my friends were having a birthday party for me at the Playboy Mansion.  Weird enough in itself, but my "best" friend in the dream was Jethrine Bodine!  (You remember 'her' from the Beverly Hillbillies show - basically Jethro in a dress!!)  Everyone was having a wonderful time drinking and playing lawn darts (not the new ones with the safety balls but the old ones that could drill through a human skull with little effort - you remember those?!!)  I spent the whole party pouting over something but I can't remember what it was.  Jethrine tried to get me to have fun.  I was extremely pissed off at Todd B. for some reason and remember spending half the dream glaring at him in a 'you have a penis so I hate you' kind of way.  (In reality I work with Todd B. at work and don't mind a bit that he has a penis most of the time.)  There, I typed it out.  Maybe that stupid dream won't stay in my head all day.  Plus, it proves another thing as I type this out  - you can't trust spell check all the time.  If I had, Jethrine Bodine would now be Dethrone Bodice.  Oh, yes - Mr. Hefner by the way, was a wonderful host.

September 27, 2000 - Today my oldest son came over to celebrate his 20th Birthday with us.  It was fun.  We had pigs in a blanket and french fries and musk melon.  His birthday cake was made out of Snickers candy bars.  His little brother was moody all day because he couldn't wait to see his big brother. He loves his big brother a lot.  He stood behind his big brother's chair tonight smelling his head.  "I like my brother's smell" he stated.  How cool.  My seven year old realizes that there memories and comfort in smells!   He was almost a leech attached to my oldest son's side the whole night.  He also entertained his big brother with his talent with balloons and fans as well as the "spitting half blown balloon" trick he just made up tonight to the dog's dismay.  (You have to have a target, after all, for a spit-propelled balloon!)   I think it's just cool that he loves his big bro so much.  My daughter also can talk to her big brother like a friend. He never did talk down to her or make her feel like she was the geeky younger sister. He always talked to her like she was human.  I think a lot of people forget that kids are just little humans, you know?  The whole night all in all was fun.  I was honored he came 'home' to celebrate, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how he's already 20 when I can't be much older than that myself!

Everyone in the house seems to be on the mend from the latest virus sharing. The phlegm is down to a dull roar and Kleenex usage is down 75 percent from last week, although I myself plan on keeping my stock in all the major tissue manufacturers for the next few months, just to be safe.

My daughter brought home her school pictures tonight.  I cannot believe how she is growing up!  Every time the kids bring home their school pictures I add their 8 x 10 to the pile in their baby books, then force everyone to view the progression through the years with me.  They all have their 'neck-streched-like-a-turtle' picture, which happens around first grade ...  The 'toothless wonder' picture ... the 'man-I-look-like-a-geek' third grade picture ... the fourth or fifth grade 'look-like-your-takin-a-crap' picture ... and we all laugh about the changes through the years and recall memories. Inside I quietly am amazed that I made this human who could be so wonderful and adorable, and growing up in such a majestic way. Sigh.  Damn ... now what did I just say about Kleenex usage?  Sniff. 

October 1, 2000 - I finally figured out why time seems to fly by so fast as we get older.  It hit me this morning when I was staring at the calendar.  My daughter had flipped the calendar over to October and I happened to look at it as I shuffled by it in an early morning pre-coffee daze.  I was paralyzed for several minutes in thought.  My thoughts went something like ...  " October?  What the ... when did it become October?  What year is this?  OCTOBER?  My God, it's October.  It is the years 2000.  I will be 40 this month.  I was born in 1960.  I remember when Kennedy was shot!  I remember when the other Kennedy was shot!  Men walked on the moon since I've been born!!  I need coffee in the worst way!  How come nobody ever refills the sugar bowl?  I remember when I used to think coffee was as bad as smoking and drinking beer!  Obviously, one must never say never.  OCTOBER?  Ah, I remember trick-or-treating that one year -  um '68? - well, it had snowed already and I fell over that fence and lost my candy ... Oh, Cripes!  I have to get the kids costumes!!  Well, probably just one.  I think my daughter is too old to trick or treat. I wonder if I can get by with just cutting holes in a sheet for my son and call it Pokeghost?  I really should wash the sheets today. OCTOBER?  Holy Crap ..."

We tend to compress time in our memory.  Like one of those sponges that are about as big as a Band-Aid until you put water on them, then they blossom out?  We smash memories away into tiny spaces in our head all compact and neat like, and when we finally do pull one of them out or one accidentally gets called up, they are so tightly packed that a bunch come out all at once, causing it would seem, a domino effect and creating a clutter of memories all vying for attention at once.  Our mind is then forced to try to sort this out in chronological order for us, but fails terribly because we tend to pick and choose the most prominent memories to review first.  This throws our brain all out of whack when it's trying so hard to present all those memories in a coherent fashion for us, so our brain finally just flips us off and says, "here, HERE!  Here are all of your stupid memories all at once! YOU try to sort through this mess!  I'm going out for a while!!"  So, our brain steps out, leaving us there lost in a sea of thoughts and since we are 'without brain'' as it were, there is nothing to direct traffic so we get confused.  Time loses all meaning.  We can't remember which kid did what and when ... we can't remember if you took our pills and if indeed we even have pills to take.  We can't remember if it's fall or spring or ... Well, you get the general idea here. So, in conclusion, time seems to fly by us because we haven't had coffee yet.

I called my Aunt Jean today and had a nice talk.  I always tell her "I love you" when we are hanging up.  She has never been an outwardly affectionate woman and she normally just says, "Goodbye" which I have interpreted over the years to mean "I love you too."  Today, she actually said, "and I love you."  Too Cool. I must have had a smile on my face for over an hour.  Aunt Jean will be 73 this month.  I should sit down with her one of these days and have her tell me her life story. See if she has had odd thoughts like me.  (Then I could blame a lot on genetics!!)

Today has been very wonderful outside.  It's windy and warm.  Every third tree or so has started it's fall color turn, and it's beautiful to see. Tonight would be fantastic to have a hay ride and bonfire. My daughter mentioned the other night that the fall stars were "cooler" than the summer stars, because it seems they are brighter.  It has frosted here once so far, enough to freeze onto the car.  I will have to dig out the window scraper thingy soon.  My son carefully touches the dew on the car each morning, because he says "the other day it was hard!"  Hahaha.  

October 4, 2000 - I was talking to Suzi and Jeff at work.  (They are a married.)  I was telling them about the benefits of hugging your kids each day. "The article I read said that if you hug your kid each day, that they turn out well rounded, happier, and more balanced" I told them.  Jeff turned to Suzi and said, "man, you have a whole lot of huggin to do when you get home!"  Hahaha.  Kids!  They drive you crazy.  My daughter is madly in love with a boy at school and has been since the last week of last school year.  Lordy.  She can work his name into ANY conversation!  I can't see how she's learning a thing since all her thoughts end up at "what's his name."  Mind you, all 13 year old girls go through this. Part of the evolution that is us. If my Mom were alive, I'd be apologizing to her profusely if I acted like my daughter is acting. I try to tell her to cool her jets and not spaz out so much when she sees/thinks/talks about him, but it doesn't work. That is just something she will learn on her own. We all had to.

My son got in the car this morning and after about a minute, he said "man, what smells like POOP!?"  "Check your shoes, maybe you stepped in a pile from Frank" I said.  He was quiet for a little while, and said, "Yep, there is some poop on my shoes." I asked him to get out and scrape it on the grass outside.  He did get out and do a doo-doo removal dance in the grass.  Later today when I was putting stuff in the back seat, I looked down and there was a huge scraping of dog feces on the car floor.  HUGE.  Apparently I didn't suggest the grass option soon enough. I was going to come home and make him clean it out of the car but then I'd be faced with cleaning puke and the dog poop out, so I just cut out the middle man and did it myself.

I had a "bitch" day yesterday at work. I just blabbed and complained to my hearts content. I was outright rude to my coworkers. It wasn't nice.  Not quite right either.  Lately I have been blessed with the ability to NOT react when work gets to me. I get to a certain point of thought and suddenly my mind is blank and it's like a large cue card in my brain that says, "you are going to die someday, does this REALLY matter in the big picture of things?"  So I've been amazingly understanding and calm. But not yesterday. Postal without the gun describes me yesterday pretty good. I wish we could control those things from taking over. We all "go off" from time to time;  that's what makes us 'human's being.'  (I wish I had come up with that saying.  Damn you Van Halen!)

October 5, 2000 - I had a good cry last night about nothing in general while I watched Southpark and crocheted.  Crying for nothing.  What a waste of water.  Sigh.  Maybe turning 40 does bother me?  I don't know.  I am sad for a million reasons, but not because I'm turning 40.  A while ago, my buddy Jeff said he was going to take me out and "get me drunk" for my birthday.  Last night on line, I hinted at it heavily, and he said he would have to give me a rain check because his wife was out of town and he had to be with the kids. That is what started me crying. I haven't had any beer or the like in so long, I don't regret NOT drinking or getting intoxicated.  I was looking forward, however, to bawdy slapstick fun with him though. We play off each other well. We exchange 'Mental Zings' and that's what made me sad.  I was looking forward to the mind play.  Sigh.  So I got sad and suddenly I was sad over everything possible. So I got two rounds done on the afghan I'm making by the time I was cried out and Southpark was over. I went to bed afterwards.  I laid there and couldn't sleep until after midnight.  I ended up sleeping in a chair in the living room. I woke up with two dogs and three cats on top of my lap and no feeling in my legs.

Today I went into town at lunch. I overheard two ladies talking.  "It's a shame about Country Maid Bakery..." one said.  "We just don't have good bakeries around here ..." the other one lamented.  I was shocked!  Tears welled in my eyes. "What happened to Country Maid?" I almost screamed. "They closed down last Saturday!" was the reply "for good!"  CLOSED?  Why, you ask, would the closing of a bakery would make one cry?  Country Maid Bakery makes THE BEST CAKES and these donut things called Wedgies in the whole world.  I love their cake.  The first one I had from there was when I graduated from High School in 1979. Actually, I think it was the first actual bakery cake I'd ever had.  (My Mom always made our junk food as I grew up).  I fell in love with the frosting.  The design.  The whole idea of Country Maid Bakery cakes.  At my daughter's birthday party, I got a sheet cake from Country Maid. There was one piece left after everyone had a piece, and I couldn't wait to dive in!  I was a proper hostess, though, and asked, "did everyone get cake?" assuming, of course, everyone had!  My oldest son said, "I haven't!" And seeing as he was my firstborn, I gave him the last piece and just pouted over the fact I had missed it.  Plus, I have hinted to my family for 20 years now about how much I love those cakes.  Hint.  Hint.  Some things apparently take a while to sink in.  My son did agree to having cake and ice cream with me this coming Sunday, though, after I pouted so much at my daughter's party.  A Country Maid Cake!  I have been looking forward to this since September 16th. For those of you reading this that think I'm a stupid whiny baby to be whining over a stupid whiny cake, well, to you I say "PISS OFF!!"   I wanted my cake and eat it too!  I wanted something for ME!  Damnit.  Me Me ME!!!!  Sigh. There. I complained to the World Wide Web.  I feel ever so much better.  Tomorrow, Scarlet, is another day.   As Gloria Gaynor once said, "I will survive!"  This, too, shall pass.  What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger. Goodnight, Gracie.

October 6, (early in the morning ..... hahahaha).  I just woke up from a odd/funny dream!  In the dream, my friend Sue was going to take me out to a new Comedy Club that just opened up.  It was a very cool place.  It had a Cyber Cafe and private booths and karaoke.  We just got there and ordered a drink when the waitress came running through.  "Please, everyone - move towards the exits in a calm and orderly fashion ..."  Turns out the place next door was on fire! The place next door was called "Planks" !!!!  Hahahaha.  When we got out in the parking lot my Ford Explorer's tires were flat.  I woke up from this dream laughing.  I think the pity party for Sandy is over.

October 8, 2000 - I am watching Neil Simon's "Murder by Death" on some TV Movie Channel.  I remember going to see that in the theater way back in 1976 with "the gang."  Hahahaha.  So far, the humor still holds up after all these years.  Alec Guinness was a hoot.  (May he rest in peace.)

Yesterday, I was taking a nap in the afternoon.  My kids woke me up by screaming "MOM!!  MOM!!! YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT IS HERE!  GETTTTTTTT UPPPPPPPPPP!"  I flew out of bed.  They pointed outside.  It was snowing huge gigantic flakes in all different directions and it looked like a huge shaker snow ball outside.  I loved it.  I do love snow.  Sigh.  A perfect present.  (And the kids got off damned cheap!)

I received very nice letter of support from my friend Helen in Tucson. She is a beautiful, kind woman.  (And I mean beautiful - very poised and lovely inside and out).  She was trying to cheer me up, for I know in my diary I've sounded down. I have been down.  Depressed.  Down right depressed.  And I thought turning 40 didn't bother me?!  Maybe it does.  Who knows.  Thank you, Helen, for the letter!  It did make me feel much better.  I needed the mental hug, that's for sure. Now I have to confess to my friend Vickie in Florida and everyone else that I swore "turning 40 is just another age - hell, it doesn't bother me!!"  that I lied horribly.  Forgive me. We all have down times in our lives, and this has been one of mine. Duh. Never say never. I can't stress that enough, especially to myself!  My cousin David said it well, too ... "if someone doesn't get you a cake, make your own!"  We are all responsible for making our own fun and dealing with our own mind frame. Yes, we get sad. Yes, we get down. Yes, it's ok from time to time as well. But, if you want frosting ... buy a can, and eat it with a spoon.  (And don't forget to take your Paxil!!)

I shaved my legs this morning, and there are sharks everywhere!  Well, not really, but if I were submerged in an ocean right now, there would be.  My blade apparently needs changing or the lack of feeling in my right hand causes me to bear down too hard. Thank God we all have seven layers of skin. God knew what he was doing there!  Hahhaa.

It's like 40 degrees out this morning, and I have a fan on me as I sit here.  Lordy, I've always been a "sweater" (not one you wear, mind you!)  I sweat when it's 30 below zero.  I sweat just blinking.  It's not pretty, I know this.  Oh well. I've dealt with it so long, I am not bothered by it too much.  I nearly drowned myself on my trips to Texas in the summer.  People who know me and accept me for who I am take my sweating as part of me and don't mention it much - unless I'm dripping all over their important papers or children. When I meet new people, the first thing they say is, "...Um, do you want to sit down?  Are you all right?" or "should I call 911???"  The thing that tickles me the most is when I'm in a group of people and most of the people are those who know me well, so they pay no attention to my trail of sweat I am producing, and seem oblivious to it. Someone not so familiar with me in the group will seem nervous and keep staring at me, then the rest of the group, then at me, then at the rest of the group ... and finally will ask someone in the group "is she ok?"  The usual answer from one of my male friends, and usually in a matter of fact type tone is "who, Sandy?  Heck yeah - she just sweats a lot."  My female friends usually respond with "who, Sandy?  Heck yeah, she's excessively glowing."  After a lifetime of this, how can menopause be too bad?

October 13, 2000 - I survived turning 40 just fine this week.  Nothing fell off or broke.  (Although you couldn't tell by the sounds that emit from me when I walk or bend over.  It sounds like a steam roller running over a huge roll of bubble wrap!)  I got lots of cool cards from friends on line.   As Jeff said, "you're half way to dead" in my birthday card.  For being half way to dead, I feel pretty darn good.  Cathy made me a birthday cake with tombstones and sugar skeletons on top.  My friend Reva sent me a birthday box full of wonderful goodies. I always look forward to Reva's birthday boxes!  Sue brought me doughnuts and a rose. My sister and nieces sent me the coolest birch bark birdhouse bouquet. (Say that three times fast!!) as well as two cool candles.  My office was decorated in black balloons and black streamers to boot. I also received an anonymous card and bottle of bubbles. All in all, a wonderful day! My oldest son even came over for dinner Monday night.

I was at the local pharmacy yesterday getting a refill on pills.  As I stood there looking around at things, waiting, I noticed a box of salve for diaper rash and the like. The name of it?  BUTT PASTE!!!  Oh my. It was too funny.  I told Kellie, the pharmacist, that I'd buy the stuff just for the name!  I think I will.  How could I pass up saying stuff like, "Oh, I have something that will help your rash!  Try this Butt Paste!!" or "Didn't I tell you to use Butt Paste?  Did you listen to me?  NO!"  I have had a grand time just running around muttering that to myself ... "butt paste butt paste butt paste ......."

We had training at work about harassment. It really took the wind out of my sails.  Sigh.  It is a sad world we live in when anything we do from breathing to hugging someone in blind joy could be considered a bad thing.  Welcome to Corporate America?  Sigh.  I am not a professional nor could I ever be.  I'm either going to be 'me' or I am nothing.  I lamented this situation for a few days after the training, worrying about  my own behavior at work and then in public in general.  If one has to constantly think about offending some one, what is the purpose of living?  So, I decided that I am still going to teach my children to grab someone when they are happy and hug them.  I will still encourage them to sing if they feel the urge and skip instead of walking, and always, ALWAYS, dance like nobody is watching.  Screw the world.  It's a short ride - and we're gonna enjoy it.

October 15, 2000 - I'm sitting here this morning watching "Martha Stewart's Living" - the Halloween episode.  She made dried up spooky apple heads and got made up by a professional makeup artist and kind of looked like Elvira as Judy Tenuta, and is now interviewing some guy with bats, scorpions, and tarantulas.  Man, is there NOTHING that woman can't do?  I think they should have a contest for parents all over the world.  "Win Martha Stewart for a night" or something like that.  It would be just like having Mary Poppins come in to your home.  The parents could leave for the evening and come home to perfect children, handmade soap in the bathroom, and all the home repairs you've been putting off would have been fixed by Martha with her hot glue gun.  Seriously, that would be too cool.  But what got me was the commercials during the show.  CHRISTMAS commercials!!!  Cripes.  You get in the Halloween mood, thanks to Martha, and then BAM, you are forced to hear Christmas music!!  Reminds me of the time a few years back when it got to be the rage at al merchants to put out Christmas stuff before Halloween stuff - a family in town put up their Christmas decorations around October 15th.  Hahaha.  Point taken!  I thought is was a wonderful statement.

October 17, 2000 - I forced my daughter to make cookies tonight.  When we went to see my Aunt Jean for her birthday Sunday, she asked her "is your Mom teaching you how to cook?"  It dawned on me that I am not.  I completely forgot to teach my daughter the finer art of cooking. Slipped my mind completely.  So, tonight was her first solo flight making chocolate chip cookies. My son was amazed his sister could produce cookies.  "Let me know when they are dry!" he told her. Dry? Cooled!  Hahaha.

It has been an exciting two days.  Someone - no doubt reckless, out of control teenagers with no sense of direction in their lives and less of a life than I have on a Sunday night - were out smashing pumpkins for fun from a nearby field.  They threw one at our yard.  Odd - it didn't explode or get damaged.  My daughter found it in the morning waiting for the bus.  That was also the morning the bus didn't come and didn't come, and my brainiac daughter didn't bother to come in an tell me.  My son and I were flying out the door, late as usual, and there she was.  Still waiting for the bus.  Sigh.  I threw her in the car, assuming she had missed the bus, and took her to school.  I passed the bus on the way to my son's day care.  So she didn't miss the bus!  That was good.  The fact remains that she stood out there staring at the pumpkin in our yard for 40 minutes past normal bus time.  Duh?  She said later, "I thought the pumpkin was something dead!"  She really didn't know it was a pumpkin. Neither did I until that night. It is pretty dark out in the morning and will be up until the time 'falls back.'  It begged her next time it feels like the bus is late, PLEASE come in and tell me!!

I brought the pumpkin up to the house Monday night.  My son asked "hey, where did the pumpkin come from?"  It was a nice pumpkin, actually.  Pretty round, and no bad marks, even after being lobbed out of a moving vehicle.  "The Pumpkin Fairy brought it.  We were blessed by the Pumpkin Fairy" I lied with a straight face.  "It means we're special, 'cause not everybody gets visited by the Pumpkin Fairy!"  My son studied the pumpkin for a minute, then said "Cool" and ran off. Dinner was 40 minutes late, because I stood there staring at the pumpkin, wondering why my son just accepted what I said without an argument.  Duh? My daughter begged me next time dinner is going to be late, PLEASE come and tell her.

Our older cat, Muffy, has been missing for two days.  I will confess, I didn't realize it.  This house is like a zoo as it is, without taking attendance on top of it.  My daughter was out looking for him when I came home tonight.  "I haven't seen Muffy!  I can't find him anywhere!"  she lamented.  She gets very emotional over animals and animal rights.  So I called for him in my loudest "HERE KITTYYYYYYYY KITTYYYYYYYYYYY" voice.  We went into the house and I started to figure out what we were going to have for dinner.  My son threw open the screen door, and threw Muffy in.  "He just came across the back yards!" and off he ran to continue playing with the neighbor boy.  My daughter and I just gaped at him.  Poor Muffy.  His face had obviously been smashed/kicked.  His jaw was hanging and his white face was covered with blood from his nose.  The end of his nose was scabbed over but definitely shorter than the last time we saw him.  The poor cat!!  He limped out into the laundry room, where we keep the cat food.  He managed to get up on the dryer and look at the food.  "Get him some water and soft cat food, STAT!" I commanded of my daughter.  You can tell he was having trouble swallowing, but he licked the soft food a little.  I tried to clean his face up a bit, but he didn't want his face touched.  Can't say as I blame him.  We put down a soft blanket on top of the washer in the sun, and he slept there for a while.  The kittens (who are over a year old now, so not kittens) stayed a respectful distance from him but they kept posted watch until he moved under my desk.  I was hoping one would volunteer to lick his face, but Muffy didn't want anyone near him.  He is still under my desk, and we check him from time to time to make sure he's alive.  I don't have the money for a vet bill right now.  Perhaps that makes me a bad person, but I can't afford it.  We were discussing what could have happened to him.  "He got kicked in the face or something" said my son.  "Poor poor poor poor Muffy" my daughter said.  "Looks like he got hit in the face by a pumpkin ..." I started to say.  We all cocked our heads suddenly and looked at each other, then to Muffy, then at each other.  Hmmmmmmmmmm ... My son demanded of me "does the Pumpkin Fairy kill cats!???"  Sigh.

October 19,2000 - We just got back from my daughter's first choir concert.  They did a marvelous job.  How moving it is to see the hope, faith, pride and pure enjoyment on the kid's faces.  The spark of life in youth can sometimes spark up the embers that lay burning out in our own old souls, if we let it.  It might only last forty two minutes - tops - but it was a spark none the less.

Muffy the cat is able to eat again and drink water.  A good sign.  He (or one of the other animals) had cleaned up his face, so he didn't look like death warmed over.  He went out and laid in the sun when I was home for lunch today, but was more than willing to come back in before I left.  He has been very loving today - coming up and insisting with the full force of his body into your hand to be scratched around the ears and head.  All I know is that I praise the Lord he's on the mend.  I felt like crap because I couldn't afford to get him medical help.

October 22, 2000 - Ahhhhh, the sounds of fall.  The comforting sound of tractors and combines in the distance harvesting their crops.  (The soft buzzing of helicopters looking for those "other" types of crops.)  They were combining the field across the road the other night.  We were going about our normal routine when suddenly we all just sort of fell forward. The noise from the combine had finally stopped.  We all had been unconsciously in tune with it, so when it stopped we all were thrown off balance for a minute. Took us a few minutes to pinpoint what wasn't 'right' ... "did the dryer stop?" ... "is someone in the drive way?" ...  "did Frank stop snoring?" ... but finally we realized the tractor had stopped working for the day. This weekend the air was filled with the smell of burning leaves. I personally like to wait for the November winds to come before I rake. Then I just go outside with the rake and start flinging all the leaves in the air, and the wind whips them to the field out back.  Ok, so I'm lazy!!  But it works.

My son and I carved the pumpkin from the Pumpkin Fairy last night.  NONE of my children would ever touch pumpkin guts, so I have always had to scoop them out myself.  Taffy the cat helped last night, though.  He was quite thrilled with the seeds.  I did make my son at least try to scoop out the guts of the pumpkin, and he shuddered and flung spoonfuls of it all over. " ICKKKKKKKK....." I believe was his response, as well as  "too gross, Mom!"  I found pumpkin seeds up by the phone and on top of the refrigerator this morning so far, either from my son or the cat relocating them.  The neighbors had the right idea ... They had pumpkins out last year as decorations and just let them decompose on the front porch, eventually shoveling them off during the winter to the side of the house.  This year, they have their own personal pumpkin patch up by their house.  Pretty cool.  I am going to try that this year myself!

October 27, 2000 - The week is over, thank goodness.  Sometimes you think it's never going to end.  We all know we must work to survive.  We all know this is going to go on until we retire or die, which ever comes first, but cripes!!  Some weeks honestly seem much longer than others.  There are days I feel I can't learn any more, teach any more, tolerate any more, or take any more.  Today it felt like my brain had a knife to the base of my head in a 'gone postal' manner ... "Don't think one more thought ... NOT ONE THOUGHT MORE - or the Spinal Cord gets it!!!!"  (C-a-l- l the p-o-l-i-c-e!!)

This morning I was eyeing the new finger nail polish my daughter had received at a birthday party.  It is very cool stuff.  Clear, but with those sparkles in it that makes it look almost holographic.  PLUS, it had shiny stars in it as well.  Very pretty stuff just to look at.  I decided to be daring and put some on.  I don't do anything very well that is considered "feminine" so getting polish on is always a challenge to me.  I'm a good artist when it comes to drawing and the like. I can built the Taj Mahal with paper mache!  Give me a fingernail polish brush and suddenly I have Parkinson's Disease. I did manage to get it on and also managed to get a few stars on my nails as well.  They were hard to fish out and stick, but I went to work with sparkly nails none the less.

Later in the morning, I ran in to deposit my paycheck.  On the way into town my right ear itched inside.  I used the pinkie on my right hand to itch it.  As I went at scratchin' my ear itch to beat the band, I remembered that I had on those sparkles/stars polish.  "Oh My!"  I thought.  I pulled out my pinkie and looked.  The star that was on that nail was gone!  I shook my head hard.  I strained my eyes to the right to see if I could see it on my shirt.  No such luck. I can't wait 'til my next doctor appointment and she looks in that ear!  Hahaha.  I don't feel it in there, but where did it go?  I had it just before I left work, I know that!  Some people are starry eyed, I just have to go that extra mile ... If Adler-Ross had written for "Pajama Game" after meeting me ... "Hey there, You with the stars in your ears ... Wax's never made a fool of you ...Q-tips used with no fear....."

It was Fat Friday at work in the Customer Service area plus other brought things for a potluck.  I missed the potluck itself, but went up afterwards to scarf up on leftovers. Lordy, there was enough there to feed a small third world country. Apparently, I am a small third world country. I ate so much I thought I'd pass out from the lack of space to breathe.  I went beyond bloat to the next dimension.  It was bad enough that my son asked "I'm not gettin' another brother, am I?" when I got home. Smile and excuse me ... belch. 

November 1, 2000 - November?  ALREADY!?  Sigh.

The last few days have been fun.  On Saturday, we went to a Halloween at my friend Judie's house.  They have a huge bonfire and have the kids search for candy by flashlight.  It was a wonderful night.  There seemed to be a million stars above in the sky.  The kids got TONS of candy that there were more than happy to share with their adoring Mom.  (Of course, Mom had sneak it after they were in bed, but I digress...)

We had fun dressing up for work.  My cube mate Cheryl (or 'Crash') had a cool cape and a headband that made it look like there was half an meat cleaver in her head.  That made me chuckle all day.  I always go as a witch.  Leisa made the CUTEST costume!  She was dressed up as a Ty Beanie Baby, complete with an "official" jumbo Ty tag stuck in her ear - she was the kangaroo one with the baby in the pouch!  I followed her around in fascination. (I know what I want for Christmas!  A five foot Kangaroo!!)

My sister and nieces came along with us to Trick-or-Treat at the Mall on Halloween night.  My son and my daughter got into a violent "slug-bug-no-slug-bug-back" fight when we first arrived at the Mall, so my son pouted the whole time we were trick or treating.  "She hates me.  She hurt me! I hate her ..." he mumbled.  That really livened up the evening!  My daughter has a tendency to shove my son into, oh - let's say - head first into the bathroom faucet and then claim that she "didn't mean to!" or she will accidentally push him over as she walks by him by smacking him square upside the head and then claim to have no memory of it. This eventful 'slug bug' fight was just weeks of sibling rage finally coming to a peak. I say, let them duke it out.  May the best man win.  On the way up to the mall, I followed in my car behind my niece's car. She has a bumper sticker on the back of her car, so when we came up to a stop sign, I read it out loud ... "RICE CAKES ( then there was a picture of what I thought was a hot dog with a big red slash through it) HOT DOGS"  I wondered when my niece had become a vegetarian!  I'm not against people expressing their views on bumper stickers, but I never knew she was against meats!  The closer I got as my car rolled toward hers, the better I could see the bumper sticker.  I laughed out loud!  What it actually said was "RACE CARS (then there was a picture of a gray hound dog with a big red slash through it) NOT DOGS! "  "Man, Mom!  You need glasses or somethin" quipped my son, shaking his head.

Next week I fly down to our Texas plants for work. I have no urge to go.  I would love to see the people, but my energy level lately is near zero.  Either old age or life has the best of me.  At least I will have 'quiet' time at night.  I can crochet my snowflakes without also juggling homework help and other projects at the same time.  I will be there for the whole week.  I fly out Sunday, and come home Friday.  I can just imagine right now how the toilet will look next Friday night. It scares me. Sigh.

I took down my Halloween decorations tonight and put up my Thanksgiving things.  For some reason, I have this anal need to wipe the slate clean immediately after any holiday.  I think it is due to the fact that my house is a very small house. Having out special decorations takes up valuable living space!!  I am a very festive person, but I do like to sit down in the living room from time to time.  If I ever end up with a bigger house, I believe I'll just leave all the decorations out all the time, which reminds me of ...  There was a sketch on the original Saturday Night Live with Lilly Tomlin.  She was playing an older woman, obviously lonely.  Her apartment was full of Holiday decorations from all holidays.When a salesman stopped by to sell insurance or something, she pulled him in and practically wouldn't let him leave, she was so lonely.  A funny but sad skit.

November 3,2000 - I think I am finished packing for Texas. I will no doubt forget something, but more or less I'm ready.  Proxy vote intact, clothes packed and underwear. Shoes. Paperwork for teaching purposes ... I think I'm ready to go. My friend Reva says it's been raining something crazy down there. I feel bad for Texas. All summer long with ungodly temps, now the rain and probably floods.  I find it fascinating how we take some things in stride.  We have no other choice, of course, but sometimes we just carry on as humans in the most gracious way.  The first time I went to Texas several years ago, Reva took me on a mini-tour of the immediate surrounding area.  They were having floods then too.  We saw someone tubing on a river, where a road was just the week before.  Life carries on.

I left little notes all over the house to remind the kids to do certain things.  Kids probably assume things get done magically while they are sleeping, but we all know it's the Mom Fairy that does it.  But I am sure like any child, they will wait until two hours before my plane lands at the local airport and do all the chores.

I sent my sister an "in case I die in a plane crash" letter, just in case I die in a plane crash or something. People do that for their own self sense of comfort, because when indeed we shuffle off this mortal coil we won't have any input on squat, so actually wills and final letters are more of a pacifier to ourselves while we are still alive. I was thinking the other day how when my Mom died that it was so uneventful. She was just gone. Sad in a way. Alive one day, dead the next. Just like when a deer gets hit on the road and nobody takes it. It lays there until it degrades into nature again. Uneventful, but unavoidable. We want our lives to mean something.  We want to be remembered.  We want some control of things (in our own minds) of what happens after we die. I believe we need this illusion to survive, to be honest. We have our own stuff while we are alive and it makes us feel better to know where and who this stuff is going to when we are no longer in control. All I care is that there is a mass launching of helium balloons at the end of my memorial service. Yes, a duck might choke on the string or a dolphin might swallow the balloon. But I really want this.  Ahhh, there - I feel much better.

November 11, 2000 - I did not die.  I am safe and sound back at home. The flight to Texas and back from Texas were both smooth as silk. Flying last night from O'Hare to Kalamazoo was the neatest, though. Below us at 16,000 ft. was nothing but clouds, but where we were the moon was bright and reflecting off the tops of the clouds. It felt like the big dipper could be reached had I only reached out my window. Had I reached out the window, however, down would come those yellow oxygen masks and everyone would be kicking themselves for not watching the safety presentation in the beginning of the flight. Coming into O'Hare was cool too. I had  never seen it this busy before - the amount of air traffic inbound! Our plane just took it's spot in this huge parade of planes waiting to land. There were seven planes ahead of us in different altitude of decent to the airport. I started humming Pomp and Circumstance as our parade of planes flew the arc over Lake Michigan to position for landing. It was dark when we took off for Michigan and it was almost festive - those various parade routes inbound with the lights and all.

The kids were ever so happy to see me, as well as the doggies. The cats could care less. I brought the kids a huge stuffed frog each that you can strap to yourself piggy back style. My son entertained us with a impromptu "Frog Dance" but I would like to think he was just happy that I was home.

I worked my buns off down south. I did my best in the time there. My face is still sore from all the talking. As much as I might get pissed at the company I work for, I must admit we have a good damned crew. We are growing too fast for our own good as a Corporation, but the people are still wonderful to work with and we can still share a laugh and be a hair more than co-workers.  It makes the seemingly impossible job of climbing the ladder of corporate growth with both our hands full a lot more tolerable.  As a representative of the Corporate "mothership" I made sure I presented myself in the proper professional light by I dumping coffee all over myself and Joy's office, leaving a nice huge coffee mark on the carpet. I also apparently used too much toilet paper for the low flow toilet and proceeded to flood the ladies bathroom. Kim walked by, screamed - then saved the day by wading in and plunging. I mopped up the floor. Sigh. As if this was not enough to impress everyone, I had to recreate the coffee moment for Reva, flinging coffee all over her desk and down the front as well as her carpet and a cabinet near by. Good Lord.  Apparently the gravitational force is greater in Texas being closer to the equator and all. I don't, however, advise any of you to try this as a tool to make a good impression. There are better ways, trust me. Something else that highlighted my talent for disaster this week was demonstrated on the way to the hotel last Sunday night from the airport in Austin. It was raining like a cow pissin' on a flat rock plus the town was busy in general with George W. Bush living in Austin and everyone flying in for Tuesday night.  I had trouble seeing the signs to get on the highway.  I was coming up to an exit, and I was straining to read the exit signs when I realized there was a red light for my lane!!  I slammed on the brakes, because in that last second before you think you are going to shuffle off this mortal coil, you become very aware of your surroundings.  I was aware I was shrieking to a stop in front of four oncoming lanes of traffic.  My life did not pass before my eyes.  The only thing that came to mind was "Damn!  This is gonna hurt!!" I was blessed, though.  Everyone missed me, and no one else got in a wreck because of me. Only one person honked and flipped me off and as far as I'm concerned I deserved the 'bird'!  I prayed and thanked the Lord and/or any thing protecting me that night all the way to Round Rock. Sigh.

Now, I am off to take a nap, then get up and make a decent home cooked meal for the kids.  hey hate this because decent equals a form of vegetables and potatoes, but it's embedded in my DNA to show them how much I love them by forcing them to eat things they hate. I also believe it's written in the Constitution somewhere ... "the right to force children under the legal drinking age to eat their vegetables..."

November 12, 2000 - The kids just went to bed after we all watched "Malcom in the Middle." What a good ending!!  Lois left the house, or "ran away" because everyone forgot her birthday.   At the end, the family ended up duking it out with clowns (you'd have to have seen the whole thing to appreciate this) as Lois watched. The music came in with Kenny Roger's "You Decorated My Life" as Lois watched her family defend her honor. I laughed for a while, then started crying. How true that scene really was. Your kids can take you for granted all the time but when push comes to shove, they are there for you. Yes, as women we are taken for granted. I have felt that way myself a lot!!  All in all, though - life has been a lovely ride and being a Mom has been very cool. Would I do it all over again if I could go back in time? Well, I am not going to answer that ... but being a Mom here and now ...  it has been quite an experience.

November 13, 2000 - Tonight at the local grocery store there were no carts available!  I cannot believe it was so busy!  Today was the first day the general public could redeem their "Turkey Bucks" for a free turkey (if one earned enough), but GEEZ!  I like to think of the grocery store as the weather barometer of sorts. It's usually more reliable than the Farmer's Almanac and the local news. If this is TRUE - then the world as we know it will not exist tomorrow!  Hahaha.  "We're one cart short of Armageddon, Mabel!  Run!!!"

I wanted to mention signs on the side of the road in Texas. There were signs all over that said "Drive Friendly!" I had to laugh.  Reminded me of the movie "Groundhog's Day" when Bill Murray had kidnapped the groundhog and had it up on the steering wheel.  He was telling it "Don't drive angry!" I don't think the signs were working very well. People were driving over the speed limit and they tended to jump lanes with amazing randomness. The lane issue happens a lot concerning off ramps, too, where the car in the furthest lane from the nearest off ramp suddenly realizes that THAT is THEIR off ramp and transcends three or four lanes to make it just in the nick of time. Of course, they could have been doing this with love in their heart, mind you - no non-friendly driving intended.

I think I mentioned before I am addicted to Alka Setlzer Cold Plus.  Especially since I don't drink booze anymore, I find this bubbly drug laced drink almost a pacifier on nights of bad days.  It is like the Shirley Temple of margaritas. I had only two packages left so I went to pick a box up at the store yesterday and they didn't have any.  There was a sign stating that "this grocer has chosen to comply with the request of the FDA concerning products containing Phenylpropanolamine and has voluntarily removed all products with Phenylpropanolamine from it's shelves." I panicked.  "What the hell is pheeny propalainey?" I gasped.  Apparently they felt the need to take it out of the reach of Seltzer addicted adults, so it must be bad. I thought today I would get it from the local pharmacy since they deal in hard core drugs all the time. The shelf with my beloved Alka Seltzer Cold Plus (original flavor, mind you) was also bare with a sign like the one at the grocery store!!  "What is this fennelpeepholelamby???"  I asked the pharmacist as I began to shake and see bugs on my skin. "The FDA has asked that makers of products that contain Phenylpropanolamine voluntarily stop making those drugs, or reformulate them. Seems Phenylpropanolamine can cause hemorrhagic strokes or bleeding into the brain. We have chosen to participate with the FDA's request to voluntarily take these products off our shelves."  "Ah, I see" I said as I meandered off casually, pretending I already KNEW all that and was just testing her. When I got to my car, I cried.  "What am I gonna do?" I whined. The best things I've come up with so far is to dissolve an aspirin into a Seven Up. Stupid pennypropane anyway.

November 15,  2000 - I am dealing with the loss of my nightly Alka Seltzer Cold Plus pretty well. I haven't fallen into a pile of blubber and cried uncontrollably. I haven't killed anybody. So, as we can see, addictions are all in the mind or so the voices I'm hearing now have told me.I tried the regular Alka Seltzer but it just doesn't have that zing plus the reverb on the following belch lacks something.

I am so tired of work. I am tired of working there. I also do not want to work anywhere else.  I want someone I can call and get things fixed, instead of me fixing things.  I want someone to make everything work that doesn't.  Sigh.  Don't we all feel like that from time to time, though?  All I need is a good day away from everything, perhaps being hijacked by a nomadic herd of massage therapists or hair stylists.  I am going to soak my feet tonight after the kids are in bed. Something on me can be pampered, at least.

My daughter brought home several of her art projects from school tonight. How cool!  I can't believe how good they are! You know, you can haul 'em around for nine months prior to their birth;  you can wipe the weirdest colored crap from their butt;  you can teach them to walk;  you can cry in the night as you hover over them when they are sick ... but you are never - NEVER - at a lack of pure amazement when they do something new or different. Children will constantly amaze you. You will never be able to say "now I've seen it all" when it comes to your own children. You will never ever see it all.

November 23, 2000 - Oh My Goodness.  I ate WAY too much. I kept it low key this year. I didn't do anything special. I didn't do any baking!  I thought that would stop us from overindulging!  Duh!  I did make a turkey, stuffing, yams, mashed potatoes, corn, and gravy.  Oh, yeah - rolls.  My oldest son came over.  He's working two jobs right now - one during the day and a midnight shift at Meijes, so he was 45 minutes late because he was sleeping.  After dinner, we were all sleeping! I slept so long that I missed going to my Aunt's house for desert. You know, they have carbon alarms to warn you about that silent killer. They have smoke alarms and fire alarms. When will they create a stomach alarm?  Sigh.  "EEEEEEEEOOOOOOEEEEEEEOOOOOOOO - Warning!  Warning!  One more bite of stuffing and I'll send it back up!  I mean it!  PIE?? Don't even!!!"

Speaking of alarms.  On Monday morning we were beeped out of our deep slumber.  The downstairs carbon alarm was screeching,and the upstairs smoke alarm was beeping.  It turns out the hot water heater, which is in the bathroom, was eeking out black smoke all over. That thing was more than 25 years old. She's been acting up as of late, but I was hoping she'd last a while. Turns out she took all she could take. She had always "smoked" a little on really windy days. Monday was cold and windy but she went beyond a little smoking to a full blown spew of death.  I am thankful for the alarms, however.  If you don't have smoke/fire alarms and carbon alarms in your house, GO GET ONE NOW!  I command it!  Take advantage of this modern and relatively cheap technology!  Anyway, we now have a new shiny water heater that doesn't eek smoke or killer fumes.  I had to wash all the walls in the bathroom and scrub the floors to get the soot off.

I was putting my daughter's hair into a pony tail before school the other day, and I had to stretch to do it.  I didn't have to the day before, I swear.  I threw her up against the measuring wall where the kids have all their marks for the last 16 years. She was an inch or more taller than September's 13th birthday mark!  "You did this just last night, you realize?" I said to her. "I kinda felt taller when I woke up" she giggled.  Seriously, she was that much taller overnight.  "Maybe, Mom" she said to me in a very sympathetic and loving voice "just maybe, now that you are older, you are just shrinking and I'm not really growing."  She was trying to make me feel better, I'm sure. I didn't feel much better. I felt much shorter.  At work on Wednesday, Michelle said out of the blue "I just realized who you remind me of!  Broom Hilda!"  "Who's Broom Hilda?" I asked.  I never read that comic strip.  I looked it up on the internet. Broom Hilda is a fat green ugly witch. I am sure she's a hoot, however.  I yelled so the girls out in the hall could hear me in their cubicles "I remind you of HER?"  When I saw Michelle next time, I told her "remember, fat bottom girls make the rockin' world go 'round!" Sigh. Michelle said that maybe I didn't look like her but my personality reminded her of me. She was trying to make me feel better, I'm sure. didn't feel much better.  I felt short, green, and ugly.  It's not easy being green ....

I went to the doctor's on Tuesday morning. The snow plows had yet gotten to their jobs so getting there was a 25 mile an hour trek. There was no school for the kids.  It was so pretty out, however. Lots of beautiful snow sticking to the trees. The benefits of lake effect snow is that it's heavier and wetter than your inland snow. I don't mind driving in it. I do mind driving around people who think that they can drive like idiots in it. I got to the doctors without incident, however.  I have been having a dull aching pain behind my left eye for a few days. Monday after noon it was so bad I couldn't think straight. I thought maybe it was the result of the leaking carbon from the old water heater, but went to the doctor's just in case. I didn't want to be sick over Thanksgiving!  We have been working a lot of overtime for last weekend's upgrade and I have not been getting proper rest. Best get my buns in before I wear myself to a frazzle was my thought. I adore my current doctor and her staff.  (For years I had a family doctor, Dr. Dahlstrom, from birth up until she retired.  Doctor D. delivered me, and she delivered my first born.  When she retired, I thought I'd never find another doctor I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  Well, I was lucky and I did.)  Dr. Kordish kicks butt.  She also treats sinus infections and bronchitis.  She wrote me out some scripts and sent me on my way.  When I first went in they asked me for a urine sample.  "Do you think you can give one?" asked the nurse.  "It's not against my religion or anything" was my response.  "No, I mean - do you have to GO?"  "Oh, GO!?  I can always GO!!  I have no bladder retention whatsoever anymore. Hell, just give me a cup and stand back!!"  Since I have not had a female-like cycle in so long, almost a year now, they have to make sure I'm not pregnant before they treat me. I am confused, since being pregnant usually means one would have to participate in a form of sex, and I have not done that in ........... but I digress.

Everyone is fast asleep. The dogs who also over indulged today when I was stripping the turkey bones of meat and tossing them the gross stuff, are all laying on the couch.  Frank is farting in his sleep.  Sparky is sprawled out on her back and "running" in her sleep. Odie is lost somewhere under the bulk that is Frank. The three cats are sleeping as well, draped over furniture here and there. I must admit, I am thankful for my family, my new water heater, and the fact none of the dogs hurled up all the turkey goo they scarfed down. Tomorrow I will haul down the Christmas decorations. I usually put up a tree the weekend after Thanksgiving.  I am still in shock that it's already Thanksgiving let alone a month from Christmas. Sigh. This has been the fastest passing year in all my years on earth. Not only am I getting shorter, so are the years. (For some reason, I have this urge to burst out into "Sunrise, Sunset" right about now).

I mentioned earlier that when my Mom died, it was so uneventful. This is true. No bells or whistles or fireworks went off to indicate her passing. The other night my son was curled up in a chair with the blanket my Mom had made him when he was born. She used to make a special baby blanket for each new grandchild. I think my youngest son was the last one to receive a hand made blanket. "I love this blanket.  It makes me warm, and it snuggles good"  he said. He normally wraps up in it at night when he is getting tired. He also uses it as a landing field when he jumps off the couch. He uses it for catching the dogs or cats as well when they do not want to play and he does. For the last seven years he's pretty well been attached to it. "I am glad Grandma Glenn made this for me before she died, Mom" he said.  I smiled.  "Me too, honey." So what we do while we are still alive is what matters - it became very clear to me, and it doesn't matter that there are no monuments built to us upon our demise ... we build the monuments while we are alive.  Ah, learning never stops.

November 26, 2000 - I always lay in bed at night for an hour or more thinking and thinking before I can fall asleep. Sometimes the thinking starts during my prayer time, when I am asking the Lord to forgive my sinful ways and mortal stupidity. I know He knows already all the stupid things I have done or thought, of course, so I always wonder why I'm telling him all again. I usually start my prayers with "I don't know why I'm telling You this ... You already know all the stupid things I've managed to do but I just wanted to reaffirm my sheer lack of thought and foresight with you, God."  So as I ramble on to God about my day and my life, I tend to drift off in the thought process department, thinking of what will be for dinner tomorrow night or the fact I forgot to pee before I came to bed, so I'll be up soon or perhaps even play out conversations from the day in my head.  Eventually, I forget all together I was praying. I do eventually remember so I start all over again, this time asking God to forgive me for forgetting I was praying and the process all begins again, with me once again drifting off to other thoughts like how the next time I get a puppy I am going to name it 'Tarmac' because the fan in my bedroom sounds just like the propellers of a small puddle jumper plane you take for interconnecting flights although American Airlines doesn't use prop planes anymore, you see, because they advertise "all jets all the time" now, even for the interconnecting flights and how the new check in process test I participated in in Texas for 500 free bonus frequent flyer miles left me feeling very "unsafe" about the whole flight process due to the fact you punch a screen to check yourself in and get your ticket, so you are asking yourself, in essence, if you accepted any packages from someone you don't know - and you could lie to yourself with the push of a button. Eliminate the human factor and everything goes to hell, I tell you!  They say you STILL have to go through the metal detectors so if I did accept a package from someone I didn't know or happen not to have my personal belongings with me at all times and someone slipped in a bomb or a gun that they would catch it eventually, but let's face it - how true is that? I mean, I had a utility knife in my purse with a new blade one time I traveled and they let it pass right on through like it was just a compact vibrator or something!  Geez!  I could have split the side of that plane in two with that knife since the blade was new and the fact there is less between me and the sky in a plane than between me and the asphalt in a car, and wasn't 'Tarmac' the name of the character Johnny Carson played that could read minds?  Oh, wait, I was PRAYING!  I remember now, "Dear God, forgive me, I forgot I was praying...."  Oh Well, you get the idea.

So the thinking starts and goes off on all sorts of odd tangents.  My body begins the relaxing process, but my mind continues to plow through topic upon topic. The bladder kicks in, so I am up to pee, then back to bed to pick up where I left off. If I want to get to sleep by midnight I have to go to bed at ten. My dreams are also very detailed and lately very scary.  It's usually involves post-apocolyptic scenarios or it is about my Mom and things in the attic that I have not seen since I was in high school such as my smile face candles and Lemon-Up Shampoo. Sometimes the dreams are hard to shake in the morning.  I am grateful for work, to get my mind off of my dreams.  They say dreams are the mind's way to sort things out. Apparently I have an issue with my Mom and the end of the world as we know it?  Or maybe, I just wish they still made Lemon-Up Shampoo??  I'll never know.

We went to see "Rugrats In Paris" yesterday. The kids liked the movie. I liked the movie.  I even cried at the end. he plot was predictable, but what cartoon isn't?  It was the colors in the film that got to me the most!!  I swear, just when you think you see all of the blues and greens there are out there - BAM - somebody makes 'em better. I was fascinated about the quality of color in the film and suggest you all go just to see the colors.  You don't have to like babies or the Rugrat cartoon, just go for the color treat to the eyes. I got a large popcorn and pop and the kids each got a kids pack. It came to 23 dollars!!  So if you go to see the colors, eat first before you go.

My daughter is hovering over my shoulder waiting for me to finish my spewing.  She wants to get on line in the worse way.  She won't say it, but she paces like a tigress, back and forth from chair to chair waiting for me to post my diary and wander off to do "Mom" stuff.  We had a private talk the other night after she pushed her brother into the furnace for no reason and screamed at the cats for stinking too much when they poop.  "What is up with the attitude, Missy?" I asked her?  She wouldn't talk. She shluffed off to her bedroom to brood over something. My son said, "she's upset 'cause some guy deleted her emails on the AOL without reading them first 'cause you can tell that on AOL, you know - if someone deletes yer stuff ..."  and he wandered off too play "poke the cats with the broken Digimon body parts until they hide under the bed then throw the body parts at them" game.  Some guy is her heart throb for the last year. She gets all giddy when she thinks about him. She tells stories of how he said two words to her in the hall at school ... and she will tell those stories over and over until my ears bleed.  I called my daughter downstairs. "Let's talk in my office" I said, and let her into the bathroom.  We shut the door and sat down next to the tub.  "You know, I know what it's like to have someone delete mail without reading it, you know.  And just because I'm old doesn't mean I have not had that happen to me or know the pain of rejection. It hurts, honey.  I know it does.  Kinda makes your gut hurt like you need to puke but there's nothing in your stomach to hwarf up.  I know how it feels to want something so bad and have that something just ignore you and continue with their lives like you don't exist. Not everyone you like will like you. As amazing at it seems, there will be people in your life that just won't like you.  You could juggle power saws with no blade protectors on and live pigs and they still wouldn't look your way. It's just gonna happen, but the hurt eventually goes away some, even though it's always there a little ... and I can't stop that, honey. I can just assure you that there will be someone out there who DOESN'T delete your email and who even answers you back, and who checks to see if YOU have read their mail with as much anticipation as you do theirs."  She was leaning up against the wall with tears in her eyes. "Yeah" was all she said, and gave out a big sigh.  She did get up, however, and went out into the bedroom to help her brother throw Digimon body parts at the cats. I think she'll be ok.

Speaking of the internet ... I think it's a wonderful thing.  It's right up there with libraries and trivia books that give you the opportunity to learn things and find out answers to questions you never believed you needed to know the answers to.  Lots of people spend their time hollering about the internet, how evil it is - that it should be monitored, censored ....  just like the Tipper Gore's that tried to ban AC/DC because they believe it causes people to kill themselves and their family and the neighbor's cat ...  YOU have to choose what you see on the internet. Stupid people are plentiful in the world so there will be bad things out there.  ou have to choose where to go and what to search for.  It is a wonderful place to find information.  The first time anyone gets on the Internet they get into that "24/7" mode, where you tend to want to be on-line more than, let's say - breathe.  That all passes in time, and you learn to utilize it for the tool that it is.  It also gives you a chance to find old friends and keep in touch with family.  You would turn off the T.V. if a show offended you, or turn the channel.  You don't tune into radio stations that play music that you do not like ... so the Internet is the same thing, rule wise.  Teach your kids to surf safe - don't accept cookies from strangers.  Other than that - sit down together and find out about things.  There, I preached.  I feel much better.

It is raining and melting all my snow.  It is also turning my driveway in to a mosh pit.  I'll be lucky to get my car of the mud tomorrow.  Sigh.  At least I have my window brush in my front seat for the next time it snows.  Most people spend the first major snowfall searching for their window scraper.  They put it in the trunk, use it for a window prop in the summer, or lose it all together.  In the summer, you think to yourself that you won't ever need that thing again, so many get tossed into the trash.  Mine was in use as a pretend stick shift all summer for my son in the back seat, so mine never left the car.  It just happened to get shoved up under my seat, and it took me 15 minutes to pry it out, but by golly, I have it.  I am ready for the next snow.  Bring it on!!

December 3, 2000 - I am watching the mini-series on Sci-Fi Channel of  the book "Dune" and I must say it is a heck of a lot better than movie was but I doubt if anyone will or could capture the essence of that series of books by Frank Herbert. Die hard "Dune" addicts like myself will no doubt watch this mini-series and complain the whole time, but they will watch it. They have Stilgar all wrong! My friend Gary got me started on "Dune" back in 1980.  Gary died of cancer in November of 1990.  I hope Gary and Frank are in heaven or thereabouts critiquing this mini-series and having a good laugh.

I am finally having a "cycle" ... a real period!  I know it grosses you out.  I know it's too much information.  Too Bad.  It's been since January so I'm happy as hell.  Hurting like hell, too, but HAPPY!  Happy to be hurting.  Enjoying the stabbing pains with a smile on my face.  Grabbing my lower abdomen and curling up in a fetal position from the pain, but it's a good pain and I am loving it!  Aurghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I started my Christmas cards. I have about 35 sent now.  I have some more to do. I can't bring myself to totally animate the process with printed out labels and pre-printed cards as some people do, although the thought has crossed my mind due to the saving of time. I did use the Create 'n Print functions of American Greetings for some, however.  That way I could type my notes on the cards instead of hand writing them.  My hand goes numb when I write a lot. Typing doesn't seem to bother it too much. So I kind of cheated some. I have yet to start Christmas shopping, however.  Wait, I did get one thing for my oldest son!  So I guess I have started my Christmas shopping!  Hey, for an old woman, I ain't doing so bad now, am I?

I lived through a filling at the dentist last week without panicking!  Woo Hoo.  My dentist is a wonderful man as well as all of his staff.  They joke with me about my panics, as well as show genuine concern. This time it was a small filling, and I asked for no Novocain. Seems the panic starts when the Novocain kicks in, the numbing part. So, I did real good with no Novocain!  Woo Hoo!  One small step for mankind, on large leap for oral hygiene. Speaking of oral hygiene I was wondering what I have done for my kids that my parents didn't do for me.  Isn't that always a goal, to make things better for your kids than you had it as a child?  I worry about that.  Our house is crappy, but I love the land it's on, and wouldn't leave these two acres for all the money in the world.  So my kids don't know what it's like to have a beautiful house with lots of room to run about it.  I think to myself that they have suffered.  In reality, have they?  My parents couldn't afford dental care until I was 12 and then I had three fillings right off the bat. All three of my kids have been to the dentist twice a year all their life, and are cavity free thank goodness - due to good dental insurance from work.  I consider that a blessing.  They have never had to change schools midstream, like I did as a kid.  I went to four different elementary schools before my Dad finally was kind enough to let me stay in the same school district until I graduated, even though we still moved constantly.  I used to swear that I'd never do that to my kids.  I haven't.  I have kept them in this crappy house all their lives so they can have a stable childhood.  Hahaha.  So I guess I worry too much about things, like doing 'better' for my kids. I guess, all in all, I'm doing ok by them when all is said and done.  (However, I beg you - PLEASE DON'T ask THEM!!  Smile.)

December 5, 2000 - My son asked me yesterday if there was such a thing as a 'google' and I pondered a moment about it. "Yes, I believe there is. It would be a really big number, like a gazillion billion trillion" I told him.  "Remember in 'Rocko's Modern Life' when Rocko and Heifer went to the GooglePlex to see a movie?  It was called the GooglePlex because there were so many different movie theaters."   "Ah ..." he said, as if he was filled with all the knowledge in the world. "Trevor said it was a number!" he smiled, then  "do numbers ever stop?" It tickled me that he was so aware  "No, numbers never stop. We just run out of names for them."  I went about housework when he summoned me to the kitchen. "MOM!!  Come 'ere!!" he hollered.  I went into the kitchen. "This is a google" he announced proudly.  He had used a dry erase marker to write on the refrigerator. There was one number '1' and the rest of the refrigerator was covered with zeros - literally covered. "That is a google!" he said. "Oh my, it is!?" I sighed. Thank goodness for Windex.

I have watched the "Dune" series all three nights. I've muttered to myself about wasting my time watching, but I watched.  The characters (to me) are all wrong except for the the Baron. I used to think you could pull anything off if you had a British or Russian accent. Well, you can't pull off "Dune" but then again, when did I become the Ebert of mini-series? Normally I'm watching Cartoon Network at this time slot so who am I to judge. I will end up reading the book again this weekend, though.  I know I will.

December 11, 2000 - We are getting a good snow storm, boy howdy!   My son was scared to go to bed because he saw thunder and lightening. He is convinced that a tornado will come. I told him it will snow like crazy, but no tornado! This is something that I have always wanted my kids to see!  A kick ass snow storm.  When I tell them about the "blizzard of '78" I think they think I am full of it.  Now, at least, they can see more than four inches of snow for a change. They will be able to tell their kids "yep, I remember the blizzard of '00" ...

Ah, the Blizzard of '78!  Now that was a storm.  My friend Vickie, Grace, and I walked on top of the drifts to see each other. School was closed for what seemed like forever, and you couldn't drive anywhere.  (Or at least my '66 Rambler couldn't.)  We all lived within  3 miles of each other, and damn the storm that could keep us apart!  I remember someone getting their boot stuck in the snow drift and how funny it was ...  I remember looking down on top of the snowplow passing by.  I also know that if it was NOW and Vickie and Grace were three miles away, they'd just have to settle for e-mail, 'cause I wouldn't go out in this weather. 

Frank the Basset hound has to go to the bathroom but he refuses to go outside. The snow is up past the door frame, and he just stares at it as if to say, "Yeah, Right!  I can barely walk as it is, and you expect me to walk in THAT? Cripes, woman!  Don't they make Depends for dogs?  Forget it!  I'll hold it until my bladder explodes, then you can clean it up!  Now give me a biscuit for walking this far to the door!"

I saw a sign in the grocery store the other night, and had to laugh.  Did you know that if you were "born on this day" in the year I graduated, that it's legal to drink now?  Cripes!  What a reminder of my age!  They know how to rub it in. 

December 15, 2000 - The week is over!  It felt like a very very long week.  We are supposed to get ice/snow tonight.  'Tis the season!  I love this stuff.  I am a sick sick person because I am tickled that there is already a nice ice layer over the car just since I got home tonight.  Tut Tut ... it looks like rain?

Today I ran to get a few last minute presents at lunch. I was late back to work and starving so I was rushing on the way back. I had a terrible craving for a Filet 'O Fish from McDonalds. I got my McFish and started back to work.  Then I remembered I needed more wrapping paper so I swung into a gift shop a few miles from McDonalds. There was a woman coming out of the store and I flagged her on with my sandwich hand to go ahead and get in her car before I pulled in.  During the waving process, I lobbed my McLunch onto the floor of the car.  Still desperate and hungry, I quickly picked it up, hastily dusted it off and continued to consume at an incredible rate of chewing speed.  Then it happened ... CRUNCH ... CRACK ... PAIN. My right side - one of my top molars that was already mostly filling felt like it was relocated to just under my right eye ball.  I spit out the mouthful I had in my mouth and stuck a finger up there to feel it. The filling was still intact, amazingly. The pain was going away. I could, however, feel a large crack in the filling with my tongue. As I cleaned up, I saw what caused the problem  - a pebble!!  I had tired to eat a rock!! I collect rocks, but normally not internally. I got my wrapping paper and went back to work.

Tonight after dinner I was having peanut brittle for a treat. My friend Geri had made it and sent it to me via her daughter at work.  I worked with Geri way back in 1978 at a metal fabrication plant. She later came to work at where I was working in the eighties. She brought in homemade peanut brittle near Christmas time one year. I had never eaten peanut brittle before that.   I thought all my life up until that day that I didn't like it.  Actually, don't know if I never tried it or just didn't like the batches I had tried before that.  I think she offered me a piece when I went by her press and I ate it to be polite, but OH MY GOD!  Her brittle was SO good!!!  I do believe I ate the whole tin of brittle that day way back when. After that, Geri always brought me a batch at Christmas. I haven't worked with her for years 'n years now, but I do work with her daughter Judy. I think it is very cool that Geri remembers me and sends me the wonderful delicious brittle. Sigh. This stuff is good!   It's so good that I was chomping on it with glee that one can only experience when one is eating peanut brittle from heaven. Then it happened ... ... CRUNCH!  No pain, no cracking, just very very metal sounding brittle. I spit out the mouthful I had in my mouth and stuck a finger up there to feel it.  Half my filling was gone. We all know how well I do at the dentist, but I will have to go. The edges are rough and catch my tongue.  I think when I go this time, I am going to call and ask the dentist to prescribe a valium pill.  I did ok last time without novocaine, but this is too big of a job to do without drugs this time.  He'll HAVE to use novocaine.  Oh well ...  The price one pays for trying to consume minerals in their natural form.

My son is pretty geeked for Christmas. I hate to admit it but I do enjoy egging on his anticipation. It won't be long before the mystery and thrill is gone for him - so I am taking advantage of it while I can.  The UPS truck was here, and he is dying to know what was in the boxes. I told him I got some presents for people.  "Me?" he asked.  "No!  Santa will bring yours, silly!" I replied in an all knowing type manner.  Last night I was on the floor wrapping presents for two hours. When I tried to get up my butt was asleep so I had to roll around for a while like beached killer whale. Cripes, did my back hurt!  Feeling did eventually return to my lower regions.

My son has spent tonight looking through one of my books of Gary Larson cartoons. He is able to read enough to "get" some of the cartoon captions and has been giggling hysterically at some of them.  "Mom, LOOK!  It says 'punk worms' and the worms are full of hooks like they had gotten body piercing done!!" he laughed.  I am amazed he thinks they are funny. They ARE funny but seven year old kids don't normally like a good Larson toon. I wish Mr. Larson had not retired. What a funny funny cartoon series the "Far Side" was. I remember back when my Mom would call me up after reading a Larson's "Far Side" cartoon in the newspaper and say, "Do you get it?  I just don't get it! How is anyone supposed to understand this?!" 

December 19, 2000 - My youngest son is doomed to explode before Christmas comes. There are presents under the tree but none for him. "Come On Mommmmmmmmmmm!!!  You gotta buy me something!!!" he whines as he slithers around the tree like a snake reading name tags.  I am glad that school has been so busy and full of excitement to give him other things to think about besides presents under our tree.  There is always those couple of years in our lives when we are young that waiting just plain SUCKS. As we get older, we come to know that anticipation is most of the fun so we as adults savor it a bit more. As seven years old, anticipation is like toilet paper stuck to one's shoe - it's unwanted and in most cases cannot be carried out with any amount of grace whatsoever!!  It has helped that my oldest son has said he will spend the night on Christmas Eve with us so my youngest has that to look forward to, and I do believe he is as excited about that as he is Santa. 

The ice on the roads has been a challenge!  If you go too fast your car will tend to pick one side or the other, depending on it's mood, then meander toward it.  If you go too slow, then all the people in four wheel drive vehicles behind you make a point to pass you with a spray of snow and ice and look down upon you as they pass with almost a look of pity on their faces. Every morning on the way to school, my son and I have to take a corner that has piles of snow blocking the view of the main road on both sides (well, not for people in four wheel drive vehicles, of course!!)  I sit at the corner until I feel "the force" tell me it's clear, and we make a run for it.  My son finds this very amusing and cheers me on, usually with a loud "Yeee Hawwwwwwwww" from the back seat. Driving in winter weather has never bothered me much but it does bother me more when the kids are in the car. If it's just me getting hit/stuck, well then - that's ok! 

I have a sore on the end of my tongue where I keep playing with hole left by the rock damage to my tooth. I really need to call the dentist. I am such a wimp. It just constantly amazed me how our minds can literally paralyze us if it is in the mood to do so!  I wish I could dissect my own brain and dig out all the "stupid" stuff and shove it back in. 

December 24, 2000 - I took my daughter shopping yesterday down to the busiest shopping district in a 40 mile radius of us. CRIPES!  It took us twenty minutes to go two miles. I gave her a stern lecture on waiting until the last minute to go shopping. She reminded me that at 13 years of age, driving for her was not an option and she couldn't get all she wanted in our small town. Valid point.  So we cranked up the Christmas carols and rolled down the windows and sang to the line of cars. Well, I did ... she hid her face and slid down in her seat and pretended she was being kidnapped.    

I suppose I could dwell on all the negative things as of late, and wonder why anyone should love this time of year.  I laid in bed last night thinking about that last night.  Yet, this morning, I choose not to think about the crappy things like stress and money issues that plague most of us at Christmas, and I choose to think of how pretty the tree looks, all lit up here in the dark ... how festive the cat's poop has become since they have cleaned off the bottom foot of tree tinsel in the last few weeks ... how fun it will be tomorrow morning when everyone wakes up at an unusually early hour just from the sheer excitement of opening presents.  (Even after 40 years, even I will wake up early, plus I'll be loud around the house on purpose just to wake the kids if they have not already poked me fifty times to get up!)  I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas and can focus on the special things such as the lovely lights or festive music of this season, and let the stress or the feeling of obligations and tension go for a while. 

I have the turkey in the 'fridge thawing, but it looks like it is just as frozen as when I put her in there. I think I will bring her out for a sink swim today to speed the process.  I am planning on a rather easy dinner. Turkey, of course, practically jumps in the oven and sits there like a good bird and cooks itself. The stuffing is coming out of a box. Making homemade rolls with a bread machine is like cracking open a tube of Pop'n Fresh rolls, so that isn't hard.  The only thing difficult with Christmas dinner tomorrow will be getting my youngest to eat ANYTHING instead of trying to bargain and haggle his way out of most of it ... "Mom, if I eat this barely noticeable shred of turkey meat that you have to see with a magnifying glass, can  I still have 18 cookies?"

The cats have this game they play called "steal Sandy's make up brush and chew on it until all the hairs stick together with cat spit then hide it under the kitchen table 'cause she'll never find it." It is a fun game, I must admit.  It keeps us all entertained for hours every week. I do believe Tubby (or Taffy or whatever his name is this week) can actually unzip my make up bag and retrieve the thing to share with his brother.  It must be the hair on the brush that makes them think they are capturing a live animal.  I have no doubt in my mind the thrill of the hunt can cause any animal to sprout opposable thumbs to aid them in stealing hairy articles to pounce on and soak with spit.  For Christmas I bought them their own make up brushes to play with.  They have been having a hoot. Even Sparky the dog will join in the fun and sometimes it looks like she's attempting to paint the cats to death with a brush in her mouth.  he brush idea has taken the cat's mind off of the lack of tinsel remaining within their reach and MY make up brush, so all is merry and bright.  I still have a wrapped present of catnip for them for tomorrow morning, so we can get the cats hopped up on goofy grass when everyone is bored already with their Christmas gifts. One must have a backup for entertainment! The dogs will get the traditional jumbo rawhide for their presents. I was thinking of pre-soaking them in spit wrung out from my makeup brush to soften the rawhides some since I believe that is the preference of the dogs. They normally lay around in a rawhide circle growling at each other, just waiting for the moment they can steal the most chewed up and wet rawhide from the other.  By presoaking them, that would save all that time for them spent acting stupid.

December 29, 2000 - I have been on vacation this week. I thought Christmas would calm the kids down but I was very wrong. They were wound up tightly all week.My daughter pleaded with me to "puh-leaseeeee" take her Aunt's house to see her cousin, "PUH-LEASE!"  Apparently her younger brother has been bugging her a bit. "He keeps touching me, and looking at me, and he follows me everywhere!" she would stress to me repeatedly in a high pitched voice that makes my ears bleed as she followed me around everywhere poking my shoulder.  I took her today to spend the night with her cousin. Tonight my son has been content playing 'fort' with the card table and a sheet, and forcing the animals to visit him in his 'fort' against their will and he hasn't bothered me a bit! I do not know what my daughter's problem is!  Smile.

Since I was on vacation, I have tried to spend quality time with the kids. That, however, was not going to happen because Santa brought them a new Play Station (the first kind, or PS dash one) and they were attempting to break a record playing it non-stop or break off their thumbs, which ever came first. Since they didn't seem to need my attention I gave my quality time to the animals.  Frank has had a bath and ear cleansings. We went to the vet to get "de-Frankifying" ear wash for him because his stench has been enough to gag an entire third world country. He hates the twice a day ear cleanings and looks as me as if to say "if I could run, I would - and don't think I'm not thinking of it because I am" but he doesn't move so he's easy to catch. Frank actually "cries" when I put it in but he still doesn't move, except to flap his ears and spray me back with the ear solution. I even got Odie, the miniature Doberman to play with me some. He hasn't "cut loose" in a long while due to his age but he did get all hyper a few times. Sparky is always hyper, and playing with her is a requirement, not a luxury. She did have fun 'surfing' in the snow drifts when I would get the mail or feed the birds. 

I have also spent every morning before the kids wake up getting the cats all hopped up on catnip. It pleases me to no end!  Maybe because I wish I was hopped up on something? I am not sure, but watching them roll like a dog on a dead squirrel on their own personal piles of nip makes me laugh out loud.  Then the brawling begins and my living room becomes a mini-feline WWF ring.  Sparky the dog joins in the chaos, and I get my jollies. Spazzy the cat is the funniest.  (He must weigh a whole four pounds. Even at a year+ old, he's very very small.)  Give him some catnip, though, and he's Mr. BadAss. He will rapidly whomp Tubby upside the head with no regards to Tubby's size.   (Tubby/Taffy/Fat Boy is Spazzy's brother, and must weigh around twelve pounds. He resembles Garfield in attitude and stature!)  Tubby will just look at him as if to say "yeah, right!" and proceed to rear up and attack. Hahahaa ... the fun I've had watching the cat fights. Muffy gets nipped up, but he keeps a measure of dignity about him, even when the younger cats think he's fair game for whomping. He merely smacks them across the room in one fell swoop and will turn to pick fights with the dogs. The dogs are more worthy opponents than the younger cats. The young ones are not worth his time nor effort.  Muffy will also lay in wait for the first child down the stairs and attack them. It has been a fun week.

My youngest son mentioned to me today that he will be EIGHT YEARS OLD in NINE DAYS!!  He does not want me to forget this. He is concerned that I will forget his birthday since it's so close to Christmas and all.  I doubt I can forget when he has come up with a new dance called "I AM GONNA BE EIGHT YEARS OLD IN NINE DAYS'  - and I will assume that the number of days until he is eight will change every day when he performs this festive dance of his. 

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