Bet nobody else got one of these!

My brother lives half the year in Antarctica and the other half in Alaska. I bet the flight from Toolik to VT was interesting with this going through the baggage check! Yes, it is a 3 foot long 2 foot high caribou antler! And no, I have no idea where we will put it in his room....suggestions?

Blizzard Turkeys

The three of them finally moved off toward the woods. And here I was hoping for an easy dinner. It may not look like precipitation in the picture, but what you don't see is sleet and unbelievable wind...which brought down a large branch from a pine tree. It barely missed the house...i mean like by an inch...but it took out my clothesline. Obviously I bagged work today cause 20 miles up two mountains just ain't worth it. Plus my boss said she didn't want me out in this crap. I hate winter.

Adding this: one of our energy saving light bulbs blew this afternoon and created a terrible smell ~ of course I thought the house was going to burn down. So I looked it up and apparently this is normal burn-out behavior for these bulbs...you can find the info here. Just in case it happens to you.

Ah...festivey goodness

The fabulous tree! Doesn't look fake does it? I assure you I dragged the bodybag out of the basement and lovingly fluffed each branch before sliding them into their assigned slots. No picking pine needles out of our socks till June for us!

The 'Never' Of Places

My friend Nick is dead. There I said it. I haven't been able to verbalize it in the last few days. I feel like a bit of light has been sucked out of my soul. What did he give me, besides watercolors and pumpkins for the Minion over the years? He gave me laughter and happiness. Joy. It was with him that I first heard Sarah McLachlin, Loreena McKinnett, Bocephus King. We would have cocktails and spin one another around his beautiful home to 'Come On, Eileen'; giggling at the sheer silliness of us. He called me up in the winter of 2003 /2004 and said there was going to be a lunar eclipse; he had red wine, the lawn chairs in the driveway and blankets - come watch the penumbra with him. Aside from the obvious things like not ever hearing his voice or seeing his face again, the saddest part of me knows I will never experience the pure freedom I felt in his home. Because it was him that made it the fabulous place it was for me. The S.O never met Nick, though Nick did a watercolor at my request as an anniversary gift. The S.O knows I'm sad, but I can never explain to him how much this man meant to me. A great bear of a man who would cut flowers for his dining room table. I spoke with his ex-wife the other day ~ they got on better as unmarried neighbors, lol ~ and she said it perfectly: We all got robbed.

NICHOLAS CHEW BENNETT
June 15th, 1953 - November 27th, 2007


Nicholas Chew Bennett of Rawsonville, Vermont died on November 27th, 2007. Nick was born on June 15th, 1953, was raised in Radnor Pennsylvania, attended Episcopal Academy, Westminster School and graduated from the University of Vermont in 1975. He is predeceased by his mother Elizabeth Chew Bennett of Radnor, PA and his father Edwin Eversley Bennett of Manchester Vermont.
Nick was a man of many talents. He was an artist and a builder, a lover of animals and nature. He was blessed with a curious intellect, agile mind, and shall be remembered for his quick wit and wonderful sense of humor.
Nick is survived by his sister Lisa Bennett Stokes of Radnor, PA, nephews Ben and Will and niece Liza Stokes, as well as two half sisters Wendy Bennett Osborne and Betsey Bennett Bischoff. He is also survived by many cousins and his good friend and caring neighbor Carol Cantwell.

Busy Busy

It's been a hectic couple of weeks. Work really gets in the way of life. But one can't live on the dole forever. I am very lucky to get summers off - which makes up for the fact that I have to drive up two mountains in order to get a paycheck 7 months out of the year. Last Tuesday we had sleet and freezing rain. My first interesting commute of the season. But I am a turtle. Slow and steady. Tap the brakes. Psalm 91, Lord. And for God's sake, you in front of me fish-tailing, don't stop in the middle of the lane.

Thanksgiving was fine. I worked and the S.O cooked. And today we cook a chicken and head to my mother's for the 2nd installment as well as my birthday cake. I turn 39 tomorrow. I'm not sure how that happened. I feel I should be a little more together by this point in my life. Maybe I am and I just don't realize it.

The Minion wants to put up the Christmas Tree. I have compromised and told him he can make his yearly Winter Wonderland-scape in one of the windowseats. That will keep him occupied tomorrow as he pairs Styrofoam snowmen with chipped nativity scene figurines, strands of Mardi Gras beads and Legos. It's always a visual feast.

Tummyaches ahead

Well, the stuffed raccoon has eaten itself into some sort of skeletal stupor...lord knows I won't be far behind. The squishy gummy eyeballs are new to me this year. I may just stick with the Baby Ruths.

Blankie

A friend is going to give birth to twins in a couple weeks. So I'm making two afghans. The traditional "blue for boy" one is finished. Still working on the "pink for girl" one. Pay no attention to our saggy, ass-ugly sofa.

Ugh

I swear there are razor blades in my throat. I looked and there aren't. It sure feels like it though. Maybe germs wielding thousands of microscopic swords. At the moment the most beautiful phrase in my life is: "Marked Drowsiness May Occur." Please. Now. Nyquil thou art nectar of the Goddess. I wish I could chug it during the day. But then that would make my first week back to work even more confusing for me. More pleasant though. I guess my eyes are okay. Bloodshot but not gloppy. Not sneezing either. Just the damn throat. The Minion has an overnight at a friend's house tomorrow night. I'll be in bed by 6pm if I still feel like death warmed over.

Zoely: If I forget to email you a b-day card Saturday it's because I am stoned out on meds. Happy 40th!

Severed Head

The Minion is going to tell people we found it in the backyard. I'm sure it will last all of 30 minutes on the Trick or Treat route before my shoddy workmanship comes apart with peanuts and bits strewn on someones lawn.

Murphy's Law

It's been that kind of week ...and it's only Tuesday. I think I have Pink Eye. All the years I worked in childcare, I never caught it; but the crusted shut, red, goopy eyeball this morning makes me think my run has come to an end. It doesn't itch though. But I have had a cold for the last couple days. Fortunately, The Minion has his well-child appointment today, I've have Dr. L. take a look; not that she'll miss it by a mile, as I appear deformed. I have been sucking on Cold-Eeze zinc lozenges and I swear by them. Apparently zinc is a cold germ's worst nightmare. If it is Pink Eye I guess I'll have to throw out my contact lenses. They were my last pair. I'll be stuck wearing the glasses till I can afford to buy new contacts. Which will be sometime in December. Which will really end up being January cause, hey, The Holidays. Maybe Santa or Hanukkah Harry will give me a check to buy lenses.

I started work yesterday. A half day, as mother had an MD appointment; which had been switched to Wednesday. Which nobody told us about. So that was a small eff-up. I really enjoy my job. But I really hate to work. Too bad I can't just work on the days I feel like it. After 5 months off it felt good to do what I do. But I was pining for my freedom at the same time. Lottery. Yes, that is the answer.

I finished the Severed Head that is The Minion's Halloween costume accessory. Using what we already had on hand: A mask, a wig, a plastic bag filled with packing peanuts for stuffing, and a bit of rope sewn into the scalp for holding purposes and voila! A photo will follow. Had to put it in his closet for the night, he didn't want it hanging on his doorknob illuminated by his nightlight.

I had more to impart, but I have no freaking clue what it was. Will put some pretty tree pictures up at some point.

A.C again

Remember my Ann Coulter fear? I just read this article of an interview with her. Granted I should have waitied until I was fully awake and had a cup of coffee in me, but I didn't. And now since I can't think properly I'm unable to comment on her in the way I'd like. But comment really isn't necessary as once again the freakiness that issues from her lips causes me to become speechless, opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish.

My Favorite Holiday

Here is Death and his 3 year old cousin Pooh last Halloween. Note the blood soaked sash accenting The Minion's shroud. His idea. Unfortunately you cannot see the blood splattered femur clutched in his hand which he would shake in people's faces and declare "I will steal your soul!" Also the shroud has a mesh face covering which makes it possible for him to see out, but we can't see him. I suppose it would be in poor taste to have him dress up like this again for Trick or Treating at the Old Folk's Home where his grandmother is at the moment.

Flinging The Potholders With Joy

I cannot believe I have never run across this recipe website before now. The beauty of it is that when you click on a recipe, it gives you the option to change the serving size and switch between US and Metric. It converts the amount of ingredients up or down for you. If you want to make say, 5 dozen cookies instead of 2 dozen. Or, in my case, cook two chicken breasts instead of 6. Or make a quart of stew instead of a vat. I have always hated that about cookbooks...since there are only 3 of us, it is very rarely that I cook in bulk. And doing the math to divide spoonfuls of ingredients....well not my strong suit. I am so happy! I may actually enjoy cooking again!

Shameless Plug

My crippled brother has written a children's book. Here is another link. The Minion and I held open books for signing as Mark only has one workable arm...he's got two arms, but only one works. So feel free to share the links and / or buy the book. There are plenty.

Afternoon Photos

We went outside this afternoon and down to the pond, which is the lowest the S.O has ever seen it. We've had ducks hanging out the last few days and The Minion was hoping to sneak up on them, but it was not to be. They are leaving the water as he approaches....which of course you cannot see. He did catch one poor frog.

I tried to figure out how to write something, then post the photo, but all photos are ending up at the top of the entry. Anywho...took some from down at the pond looking back at the houses and barn. Then we went down to the lower lawn by the gate and I took a picture of an old sugaring spout in a huge maple tree...then an upward shot of the maple and the locust next to it. These trees are massive. I wish they could talk. I love history and would time travel if I could back to when this was a working farm. My family has been in VT since the late 1700's, so it's all very dear to me; even though this wasn't my family farm.

Maryam, when The Minion's father and I were divorcing, The Minion and I did live in a barn for 9 months. It was fabulous. I loved that place. I had herbs drying in bunches hanging from the beams and loved every creak on the old floorboards. We heated only by wood and the bathroom had the smallest clawfoot tub - more like a hipbath I guess. I have a soft spot for barns, no doubt.

Piles Of Stuff

Catherine ( see link at right ) has asked what is in the barn that desperately needs to be stained. Lots of stuff such as: 7 cords of firewood, a tractor, a pile of things deemed "the electronic graveyard", a sleigh, snowmobiles, tires, a freezer for extras, canoes, mice and bats. The lower level has horse stalls - the S.O's ex-woof kept horses. The barn and houses are well over 150 years old. I love the hand hewn beams in the barn. Our house is actually the renovated carriage house. The S.O's mother lives in the main house which has a huge whole tree as the main beam in the cellar. Very cool.

A Good Ghost Story and Stuff

Today I'll go and open a vein for the Red Cross then maybe deal with the reality that it is the middle of September and my outdoor plants are on their last roots and look like crap. Maybe I'll pick up some hardy mums to keep the winter-is-coming depression at bay for another month or so. Though the plants on the deck don't look too bad yet.

I am re-reading The Witching Hour by Anne Rice. I first read it about 15 years ago and fell in love with the freaky, creepy Mayfair family. I suppose I should finish the trilogy and finally read Lasher and Taltos. I am really hoping that the demon wins in the end. That's me, rooting for the twisted, salacious and seductive side.

The Minion ( who never gets ill ) had a sore throat so I kept him home from school Monday. Being the germophobe that he is, he asked me a gazillion times: "How do I look?" and he took his temperature about every half hour. Somehow we made it through the day without me locking him in the barn with a bag of Ricola lozenges and a blanket.

What more can I add...

Ann Coulter scares me. Alot. I just felt the need to say that. She scares me so much that I'm not even going to link to her website. I may sacrifice a small woodland creature to cleanse her from my thoughts. And I don't even know why I'm thinking of her. That's the truly creepy part. Perhaps she is the anti-Christ. On a more lefty note, I'm reading Deer Hunting With Jesus by Joe Bageant and enjoying it immensely, being the liberal minded woman that I am. So in exploring his site, I came across this website link. I have only looked at half the site, but have already wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. Laughing at my own demon so to speak. The Little Voice inside says:" Alcoholism is a disease and it isn't funny." I know this. And I know I can't / shouldn't drink cause I have a bitch of a time stopping once I get started. I drink to get buzzed. So I don't imbibe very often anymore. Maybe once a month. But this site makes me laugh anyway.

Feel Good Story

There is always so much sad and depressing news everyday, I thought I'd share something good for a change. I've worked with Sara's mother for quite a while and know about the struggles and heartbreak they have been dealing with for the last couple years. It's nice to know there are pockets of generosity and caring out there in the big, bad world.

Beach Bellydance

This is a photo of me and my separated-at-birth girlfriend Sheri bellydancing on the beach on Captiva. She and her family invited me and The Minion to accompany them on vacation in April of 2003. I miss her and her kids and her husband. They live about an hour away from me now and we always say we are going to get together but never can find the time. We haven't seen each other in 3 years.

We practiced for a performance the entire week we were there. It was a blast and when we got home we really did remember the routine when it was time to dance it. I miss bellydance too.

A Peaceful Day

I didn't have to worry about Mother today as she is back in the original Home. She is so happy to be back there - hopefully she'll remain well and continue to gain ground so she can get back to her actual house in a few weeks.

I am not a huge Madonna fan. I kind of liked her stuff back before the Sex Madonna persona, but then I never really paid that much attention. So, imagine my utter shock when I realized I love, love , love her song Hung Up. Not the video. The song. I think she looks ghastly in the video.

I just read Crooked Little Vein. Extremely funny. I felt deeply twisted when I laughed hysterically at some of the situations. It was a good feeling. Cleansing...it made me feel normal in comparison. If you like Christopher Moore and/or Tom Robbins you will like Warren Ellis.

I finally watched Secretary this afternoon. I freaking loved it. My kind of Cinderella story.

Off to read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince to The Minion. Gotta get that one done before he can hear Deathly Hallows. His pestering me about who all dies in the last book is getting on my last nerve.

What They Don't Tell You

Or at least what They didn't tell me. Mother's 100 days of Medicare paid hip rehab ran out on 8/18. The Home told me in July that this was going to happen and that they would begin the process for Medicaid to cover the rest of her rehab. What they didn't tell me is that in order to qualify for Medicaid you cannot have more than $2000.00 to your name. It really should state that fact on the freaking Medicaid paperwork that needs to be filled out too. But it doesn't. I spent a day filling out the paperwork when it arrived last week and gathering all the documents they need to see if she qualified. The amount of Mother's savings is less than what working people on the low income scale make in a year, however this naturally puts her over the limit. So....I find out yesterday about the Medcaid not happening. I call The Home. She owes $3,780 for 8/18 thru 8/31. $270 a day. For a bathroom shared by 4 people with fecal matter stuck to the toilet, no A/C, crappy food and a smell that makes your eyes well up and lungs seize. Okay. So I call the place she stayed over the winter when she was waiting for the hip surgery, which is 3 miles from here, is clean and doesn't stink like old people waiting for Death; also a private room / bath. And is $140.00 a day. They have a room for her. She'll get P/T twice a week there, but I can bring her to P/T the other days here in town. And she will be under her regular physician's care again, which is huge. So, I'm driving up to discharge her from Haven Hellcare today. I left the Social Services lady there a message yesterday afternoon telling her what I was going to do and to make sure her charts etc. were ready to go. She didn't call back. I'll be nice. I'll sweetly explain she cannot afford to stay there. I'll write that check for her uncovered care. Then I'll get her the fuck out of there.

So my Mantra for today is going to be: Remain calm. Get her settled.

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Doesn't this 6am photo capture the joy and anticipation of the first day of school?

Hmmm

The last few mornings The Minion has had my coffee poured and waiting for me when I come downstairs. I would like to think that he is just being a loving, considerate 10 year old boy. Isn't that an oxymoron in some sense? However, I believe he is sucking up to me and I have yet to figure out why.

Quirk

The Minion has a mild form of Mysophobia. It started a couple years ago and he is nowhere as manic about it as say, Adrian Monk . I think all of us have something that kicks in the OCD that lurks inside. For me it's putting the dishes exactly where they belong and taking my vitamins in a certain order. When not near soap and water,The Minion uses Purell. He washes his hands before all meals, after using the loo and after coming back home from wherever we may have been. We have Purell in the car, in his backpack, in his lunchbox. At restaurants he washes in the bathroom and then uses the Purell right when the food lands on the table. The up side of this is that he never seems to get ill. Maybe a sniffle in the winter. Never stay-home sick. The whole class could be heaving their little guts up and having The Trots ~ he doesn't catch the bug.

On Tuesday, he will start 4th grade. I took a look on his school's website to get an idea of what his class will be focusing on this year. There it was on the list. Germs. They are doing a unit on germs. To some, knowledge is power, however I believe that once The Minion learns the details of his "mortal enemies" he may want to bathe in Purell daily. I wonder if I should alert his teacher of his issue or just let the school phone me if he falls over in a dead faint.

Voices

No, I am not hearing them yet. For whatever reason I have been thinking about actors whose voices make my heart beat a little faster and my toes tingle. Must be the oppressive heat. The voices belong to Alan Rickman and James Spader. An odd combination for most I am sure. I've probably been watching too much Harry Potter and Boston Legal. I just added Secretary to my Blockbuster queue for a Spader fix and rented Truly, Madly, Deeply and Sense and Sensibility last week for Rickman viewing pleasure. Yum.

Just complaining about the weather

All this past week it has been in the low 60's here in the Green Mtn. State. We've been wearing lightweight fleece around the house, socks etc. Even some leaves have begun to turn. Today it was 88 and so hazy the visibility is nil. I really wish it would rain. Tomorrow it's supposed to be in the high 90's. I know it's August, but the tease of breathable crispish air was cruel. I should not complain as I know what is around the corner. The White Shit. Although I am a native VTer, I hate winter. The shoveling. The idiots on the road. The freaking dark at 4pm crap. The dismal endlessness that is January. Sigh.

Foreign Concept

I read this article and am blown away. I read an average of 4 books a week. I never realized I am in the minority where reading is concerned. I used to have a bumpersticker that said "Kill Your Television". I'll have to find another.

As if my Subconscious needs help

I always have odd dreams. But since I've been reading Jasper Fforde,my mental nocturnal meanderings have taken a deeply strange turn. Bears in cars, possessed bakery items, and me telling Zoely (blessed with ankle length tresses ~ walking down the middle of Main Street) that she is really Lady Godiva. Last month when I re-read all the Harry Potter's in preparation for The Deathly Hallows, my dreams were filled with Death Eaters and magic. Why can't I have a good old sex dream. With oh, say....Viggo, or Johnny, or Spike from Buffy, or even the S.O?

On a side note, I just told The Minion that if he ran and launched himself at the couch One. More. Time., I was going to nail his feet to the floor. It felt empoweringly Evil-Mom like to say, but I don't think he believed me, dammit.

Lawyers, Guns and Money

I'm working on 6 hours of sleep, a drive in the dark with fog, 6 hours at the hospital, 2 Luna bars and a bottle of Pinot Noir. I only bought one bottle, because at 1:30 pm I really didn't think I'd want MORE. See, me and alcohol have a love, hate, godiloveyoudammit, hate relationship. I hate getting buzzed because I know I shouldn't. But it's been a long freaking day. Long and freaky. Mother came through the leg thing okay and I read every old issue of Good Housekeeping there was available ..and overheard this in the surgical waiting area: " I had a cell phone, but my boyfriend took a hatchet to it, so I guess you should give me a beeper." I would say 'Only in VT' , but somehow I think the same thing might be currently uttered in ... Alabama? Holy Shit.

So aside from being a complete happy drunk, dancing around with my son's iPod to Nickelback ( Rockstar...fucking love that song)...I give you Bocephus King. Hello hotness with a grinding voice. If you have iTunes, listen to 'Nowhere at All' and 'Think About You'. Yeah baby.

( The upper blurb was for the sole enjoyment of Zoely - but should anyone else read this, check him out. You will move your hips. Slowly. In a God-its-hot-here-I must-disrobe "Think About You" way. Makes me think of Richard actually. Hint, Zoely , Hint!)

My wine is gone. Crap. I think the bottle was 12 Weight Watchers Points....Leigh, if you read this, I lost 50 lbs online. You look fantastic.

I really wish I'd been on my game and asked the redneck chick for the backstory on the hatchet and the cellphone. Now we'll never know.

On to darling Warren and his prose. I always feel Accidentally Like Martyr. Mad Love.

Mildy Irritated

My mother is having surgery on her leg tomorrow. She has a basal cell wound that needs to be cleaned and skin grafted. She has been in the Nursing Home re-habing her new hip and this is just one of the many issues that have hampered her recovery. She is scheduled for 7:30 am and needs to be at the hospital at 6am, so the staff at The Home told me last week they would arrange for an ambulance to bring her to the hospital. Fine, perfect, as I live close to an hour away from The Home. My plan was to be at the hospital at around 8am as the surgery shouldn't take more than an hour. Yesterday I was informed by the Home staff that the ambulance would not make the 10 minute round trip drive to The Home and hospital because she is able to ride in a car. They could see if the town bus could pick her up. Or a taxi. Huh? An 80 year old woman on public transportation without medical staff heading for surgery...no fucking way. So, I ask the MD in charge of her care at The Home what we can do - he writes a request to have the ambulance transport her tomorrow morning. Request denied. So....I will be rising at 4am and picking her up at 6am. I asked the nurses how can this be? What about the poor old souls who don't have family? I was told they have sent residents to the hospital by ambulance and if they do not have an urgent need to be brought back by ambulance they have been sent back to The Home in a taxi. Is it just me, or does anyone else see this as very, very, wrong?

Reconnections

This past week has been so busy I don't know where to begin. The Minion returned last Wednesday safe and sound. His plane was two hours late leaving Chicago, but that was the only snag. He is very happy to be home. Then Thursday, Zoely and her children made the trip to Vermont. ~Insert nursing home trips, playdates and sleepovers here ~ . A dear friend from highschool and his girlfriend called Saturday night, they are here in VT for a week visiting his family, we hadn't seen each other in 17 years. So, The Minion, Todd, his GF and I went to the Apline Slide yesterday and spend the afternoon playing catch-up. They will head back to Boulder via Canada. It's been a nice time seeing the people I love but haven't seen in far too long.

Today's the day

The Minion will be getting on a plane in a couple hours and flying from Portland, OR to Chicago then on to Albany, NY, where I will be waiting with bells on. I woke up at 5am and couldn't get back to sleep - which is unfortunate since this was my last day to truly sleep in. I have only driven myself to the Albany airport once 4 years ago, and it was in the middle of the night. When there was very little traffic. Usually the S.O does the driving. But this time I am biting the bullet and driving myself. It's about an hours drive, so it's not that far. But I am a 2-lane kind of girl. 3-lane if the middle lane is a turning lane. Navigating the stretch of road from Troy to the airport makes my knuckles white just thinking about it. I am a Psalm 91 driver. Which I borrow from Tim Cahill in his book Road Fever. Basically, if you perceive you are in a dangerous situation, this Psalm will help keep you safe. Given it's length however, it's okay to just say "Psalm 91, Lord!" and hope the Big Guy doesn't knock off points for severe editing.

I finally did straighten The Minion's bedroom. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Now there are visible surfaces.

Random Thought

My parents, mostly my mother, never really approved of any of my choices in boys or men. They claimed they liked them. But I know they didn't. Until I became enamoured with the S.O. The beloved S.O is truly a good man. I wonder though, if I had brought this delight home for supper, if perhaps they'd have been more tolerant of the others. I do think that his soon-to-be ex-wife, the fabulous Dita Von Teese is lovely. And the pairing certainly made me wonder. But not too much. Thinking about them sitting down to breakfast together ~ a normal everyday occurance ~ was probably a weird, weird scene unto itself. And I'm fragile like that.

Holy Birth Canals, Batman!

I just read this article - and felt my vagina snap shut and lock. The article states she's been pregnant the total of a decade and change. My calculations came to over 12 years. Chris in comparison has been pregnant a total of 5 years and change. Somehow after reading Chris for the past few months, I have never questioned her sanity about her family choices, my thoughts have been things like: "She has 7 children, hey that's neat, wonder what detergent she uses? " and " I wonder if she has a clock like Molly Weasley's in Harry Potter?" However, Mr.and Mrs. Arkansas have me freaked out. And the names all begin with the letter "J". Saves on monogramming I suppose.

I have to clean The Minion's room today. Wonder what goodies I'll unearth...shudder.

A better way to REALLY wake up

My mother has an early doctor's appointment today, so I set the alarm for 6am. I do not work in the summer. 6am is a late August through May thing for me. This time of year anything before 8am is considered middle-of-the-night. The alarm goes off, filling the bedroom with the screeching sound of the horrible radio station here in town. I slap it off. Roll over and take a big sip from my travel mug of water that lives by our bed. The water seems more solid than usual. I feel something skitter on my tongue and spit out ( all over my library books which litter the floor ) the water and an earwig. Mr. Earwig apparently wanted to take a stroll in my straw. Not wanting to wake my Beloved, I do not gag, retch, scream "EWWWWW!" or even whimper in disgust. I calmly put on my glasses, look for the vile beast, who has high-pincered it away, and go downstairs to pour a cup of coffee. I stuck my tongue into the coffee, willing the heat of it to kill the freaking cooties. What if it was a She...what if it laid eggs...ACK! I have scrubbed the travel mug.

I suppose the good thing about getting up this early today was the Red-tailed Hawk I saw sitting in the birch tree down by the pond, scanning the field for tasty little breakfast morsels. And it's still in the 60's - which will change within the next few hours to the sweltering 90's again today.

Back to being Mommy

My Minion, who is 10, will be coming home from his 6 week visit to his father's this Wednesday. He has been in Oregon since the end of June. And I have missed him. On occasion. Things I have done since he left: I have read around 30 books ~ including the re-reading of the Old Harry Potter and the New Harry Potter. I have gone to the local Maidenform and spent time choosing items without his complete mortification of being subjected to that type of shopping experience. I have gone to lunch with my girlfriends. I have completely enjoyed my Significant Other in places in our home other than our bedroom. I have watched things other than Spongebob and Scooby-Doo. I have slept late. The bag of Chicken Nuggets has remained untouched in the freezer. Things I haven't done: Cleaned the flaming cesspool of toys and bits that is his bedroom. Last year I cleaned it out the first week he was gone. This year I've left it until the last minute. Will he miss the broken McDonald's toys? The scraps of tissue paper from his birthday? The deflated "Get Well" balloon that was his grandmother's; who graciously gave it to him after she was well? Perhaps. I swear to God, I didn't buy him all that stuff that is upstairs, breeding even as I type. Where does it come from?

So I have decided that in the next 5 days I have to practice my "MomSpeak". Things like " Don't trash the couch!" " Put your shoes where they belong." "Can you please turn that down?" "You just ate 20 minutes ago, have some water." " We have to go to the store if you want to eat later." "No, we cannot go by the Dollar Store." "Okay, but if you get drivethru, that's your lunch." "Yes, I'll watch you play StarWars." " Go outside and play." "Put on your helmet before you even TOUCH that skateboard".

I'm feeling empowered already! I can't wait to have my boy back where I know what he is doing (mostly) 24/7. His dad is a good father, but it's so hard not knowing what is happening. I suppose it is good training for the college years. I just felt more hair go gray. I miss tucking him in and pestering him about brushing his teeth. He's a fun kid and I certainly appreciate being his mother more after we've been apart.