Laryngitis and a trip to the store

Hearing me speak right now brings to mind a 6 pack a day smoker or stoma patient. Whispering for my dogs to "SHUT UP" because they are barking at 6:50 in the morning. I know dogs have great hearing mine can hear a squirrel fart at 50 yards and run barking after them. Can they hear me? no. Yesterday, as I was feeling about ready to drop I had to go to the store. Of course that is when I run into a "girl" I knew in high school. She stopped to say hello and then upon hearing my voice and seeing my dark circles for eyes she shuddered in her step and kept right on walking leaving me talking to her back. (I had just brushed my teeth and had not had garlic or poppy seed bagels in days) Why did I not just nod imperiously and walk on myself?
I think I know why. It was novel to sound like froggy from "Our Gang" but now the novelty has worn off and I am ready to sound like myself again. Phone calls are impossible and when my friends stop laughing they tell me that it is hard to hear me and that I should rest my voice. Which translated means "That rasping noise coming from your mouth is making the hair in my ears hurt. Stop talking"
So I guess blogging is the way to go. Aren't you lucky, I could have called but instead I caught you up with a blog. I just figured out why the dogs haven't been coming when I call. My voice is on a frequency that even they cant hear.

Dear Santa

Dearest Santa,

I realize it has been a while since we have spoken and I really am the one to blame for that. There are a few things this year though that I think you should know I would like I just wish more of them were found in stores. That is why I thought it would be wise to just talk to you and then maybe you could discuss things with your boss (God, cause I know that you two are close.) So dear Santa these are the things I would like for Christmas.
1. I really would like a Red Ryder BB Gun or a major award Lamp Leg I am not picky.
2. I would like a bike, actually my old bike in working condition with a big bow on near the tree....It wont matter that I can't ride it until spring.
3. I would like new flooring in my bathrooms and kitchen and the cupboards finished (you have elves could I borrow them I could feed them and send them back they might like a little change of venue)
4. Could you help me find the perfect gift for My husband you have seen his wish list I know you two talk please just a hint.....(please) perhaps I should have put this at the top of the list.
5. A puppy in a big box that I could enjoy and then give back.
6. The keys to a new car that is sitting in the driveway for me in a little box with a big bow.(red please)
7.The chance to go a couple of more Christmas's with the kids still feeling the wonder of Christmas morning.
8. Two Zu Zu pets. (well yes I would share them with the kids but hey I think they are cute too)
9. the perfect gifts for my two children.(again I know that you have seen their lists.)
10. There are several people this year Santa who I know are suffering and I would love to be able to help them in some way but I am not sure how to do that you can't buy a cure for Cancer at the store. If you could I would put every dime of my allowance away for that and even work an extra job. So maybe you could just leave a note to let me know how I could help them as well, I would appreciate that.
11. A winning Lottery ticket. (I know that is a big one but, It could help with some of the things that pop up during the year when you aren't here.)
The rest I will talk directly to your boss about. We need to spend more time talking he/she and I. I know that Christmas is also His Sons birthday and there is quite a party so I think we should start talking more throughout the year when perhaps he isn't so busy. In fact that should be on my list as well.
Thank you Santa I know you will do your best.
It has been nice talking to you. Is there any special cookie I could leave out on the 25th? Let me know.
Thanks again,
Deb

Voodoo Camera Scavanger Hunt Begins

Hello All.....This is a slightly different sort of rant. This is more of a call to arms, a bell tolling for you to dust off your Camera phone/camera/web cam or even hammer and chisel, Anything you would use to capture a moment.
Over lunch at my favorite place a friend said she wanted to do a scavenger hunt. The image that came to mind was driving in my beat up old Datsun 210 looking for road signs or lawn art that would complete the list my friend Cheryl gave me. (Of course everything was returned) Do you know how hard it was to find a gnome. Really, they are everywhere when you don't want them but need one quick and you might have a problem. So in the effort to stay law abiding I think that we should just photograph what we need to find. We will be hunting for pictures and our prey is totally up to you. Now All the rules will be posted on the facebook group page that I set up for this but for those who are standing firm against facebook (and you know who you are) you can send me a email with web sized pics and I will put them on for you....Alley.....
The first set of 15 "prey" will be put up November 2nd and at that time you will be given a date to have them complete. The winner will be given the Drum roll please.......Golden Bragging Right as well as input on 5 of the next months scavenger clues. All photos (but one) each month must be taken fresh. Each month you are allowed one photo from your stockpiles. NO Cheating on this........(That really is directed at myself) Quality doesn't matter just content.
The only other request and again these rules will all be posted is that lets try and keep this a "clean" game. No nasty bits, if you know what I mean. Any truly offensive photos will be taken off and the poster will be banned from the group.

The link is http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=227103242616
On your mark.....Get set......GO!

Tissues and Lotion

Something so small can make such a big difference. Walking the aisle waiting for the pharmacist to call my name I recently pondered the inventions in my life that have made a big difference. Yes My Ipod is something I wouldn't want to do without how else could I listen to the complete and unabridged Harry Potter books 1 -7 non stop or stream the latest Dave Matthews concert (If I listen carefully I think I can hear my own screaming in the background....) But, none of them have made as much impact in the last 24 hours as a tissue with built in lotion. Perhaps for those of you with dirtier minds, tissues and lotion bring other thoughts. Not being a boy I don't appreciate their allure or the images they conjure. No, I have seen the advent of tissues that no longer leave my nose feeling like I have rubbed it repeatedly with sandpaper. For that I am grateful. I am also grateful for Antibiotics and steroids. For without the two this entry might have waited another week to be typed. So when the tissue maker who shall remain nameless but sounds like puffs plus came out with the whole lotion deal I thought why should I spend the extra money on a gimmick. Yet, standing there in the pharmacy aisle I would have done anything to help my youngest feel better and if a tissue claimed that it could keep his little nose from feeling broken and sore I would do what needed to be done. Thankfully that didn't require a moonlit raid on my neighbors stash or a trip to the hock shop after I paid for all of our prescriptions. My husband tells me it's the little things. So yes I do think he's right (you have it in writing now) These are the little things I am thankful for, friends who bring dinner and movies when we are sick, Small pills that fight infections in little lungs and tissues with lotion.

Mafia Wars aka Why I still play games

Not long ago....About 74 levels to be exact a friend asked me to join her facebook Mafia. I laughed and said sure why not. It seemed harmless and I liked The God Father what could it hurt. I wouldn't really be knocking over taxi stands or growing my Cuban Rum business by bullying and bribes. Little did I realize just how much fun being naughty was Not NAUGHTY just naughty I still wanted more than coal in my stocking this year for Christmas......(Although with the price of everything you can still burn coal and I bet it would be worth something on the black market) See...That is the kind of thinking that happens from spending too much time with your Mafia. I had this happen once before, I spent too much time playing Sim city. Trips with my husband would be spent looking at the towns we passed through and wondering where the water treatment plants were and how many power plants were needed to keep a city this size running. Times change though and now I wonder how many Casinos I can build on a three hour take or how do I get my hands on a guerrilla squad or the best bit of loot......(thank you Napoleon) How to get a liger. Yes the famed half tiger half lion.....Very powerful stuff..... I laugh every time I see one. All other games seem rather tame in comparison. Shoots and Ladders baby stuff, Pictionary? please. Some might suggest Monopoly.....not really, not unless you can go and beat up the guy that owns the land and hotels next to you take his money and collect the rents on the rest of his property. Now that is Mafia wars..... it isn't without risks, there is always someone bigger on the block who wants your money..but I can do jobs like Repel the Yakuza, Sell Guns to the Russian Mob, Obtain Compromising Photos, and Frame a Rival Capo. Not a bad hobby to do just before sorting dry laundry and doing dishes. So...here is the pitch, If you have a little free time and are feeling the need to cause a little mayhem and still keep your dreams clear and Santa happy I am always looking for more people to join my Mafia. I am generous with my gifts and always happy to beat up people who bother you. (I come with a shovel) Can you hear the music in the background mandolins playing the theme to the Godfather.... I can....I just got an energy boost and now it's time to go and take care of some jobs in Cuba....then Moscow. Think about it....It's an offer you can't refuse.

October

I have been waiting for the color to join us this fall because all the other signs of the season are here. There are of course the fun ones. Pumpkins and apples. School buses and warm sweatshirts. The disire to bake a chicken pot pie without hoping it doesn't heat up the kitchen too much. But what about the not so fun signs. The smell of dust as heat rises for the first time in months, Finding that a glove had shacked up with one of my long sleeved shirts....I am ashamed to say they gave birth to a single sock out of wedlock. I am hoping to find its orphan twin and reunite them soon. Tissues in the wash. Sniffles and cold breezes. Walking the track in shorts I realized I had overestimated my ability to keep warm through movement when the chilly fingers of fall gripped me round the knees. My favorite sure sign that fall is here is the cry of "Mom where is my....... underwear..... galoshes.... lunchbox.... ticket.... signed permission form..... seed collection..... lost tooth... eye glasses...... SOCKS.....wait I know where at least on of the socks are it was with the glove and the long sleeved shirt.

Pressure.....

Pressure....staunches the trickle of blood, turns grapes to juice, allows the skin to feel the touch of another, forces ink to transfer to paper. I had forgotten the thrill of tucking a plexi plate and wet paper under blankets to mingle and squeeze. (sounds mildly dirty and in a very real way it is) The baby it produces amazes me. I feel no limits to its alure and no restrictions to its possibilities. Ah.... if all pressure in life could be as satisfying.

It works....and now the works begin

The Plate......20 years old

The Press .....70 years old

The Paper......3 years old

The Press woman .....40 years old

The Bed Blankets......10 years old

Being able to pull your own prints.......Priceless

It works!!!!!

If this were a romance novel our eyes would meet over the span of the garage and I would know instantly that we were meant for each other. If this was a horror movie I would rescue the press from the jaws of a car crusher. If I was a painter.....but then again no.....

Needless to say I am yet again feeling a great amount of gratitude for my friends and wonderful husband who put up with me and have given me that gentle and sometimes real push in the right direction. Now....what to print first.......In the lingo of my favorite song writer Dave Matthews..... "So much to say. SO much to say. So much to say. Open up my head and let me out. "

Hey have I told you yet.....It works....

It followed me home (Part II)

This is a picture of the Vandercook sitting in my garage.....Yahoo!!! As a friend said in the comment section of the last blog entry...." The clouds parted and the Angels sang"......Yeah I guess it was sort of like that. There was a lot of something in the air and it was blue but, I don't think it was singing. There was a pop up shower and even a rainbow....well somewhere nearby. The biggest surprise? I didn't really expect to get it home....I seriously thought it would be too heavy and once we were here I had no place to put it. I am in shock. Not only were my four "Angels" able to lift it but they also got it into the back of a pick up truck and drove all over Towne with it......(That's a little inside joke.....The friend who was on vacation here with his two teenagers' has the moniker Towne) I know for a fact that the rollers at one point or another rolled all over Towne or T-Ouch as I call him now. My husband, Mr. Towne and two willing men in training were the hero's of the day and lets all send our thanks and prayers their way again....(Thanks Guy's!!!!!!) Now.......Where to begin......Oh yes I know.......Thank you Lord for Rosie!!!!!Thank You For Neighbor Dawn (Thanks Dawn!) Thank you Lord that we didn't have to do this in the rain. Thank you Lord that world war three didn't break out due to my lack of prior planning. (Another little inside joke...."A lack of prior planning on your part does not necessitate an emergency on mine" is a favorite saying of my favorite heavy lifter) And last but not least Thank you Lord that I didn't get anyone killed or injured for something I wanted but did not need.........Amen.........Now about the lottery Lord..........

It followed me home......really

It is 560 lbs. of grey steel beauty, A printing press and it is the Holy Grail for print makers...... your own press........I have been praying for one for years. Simple prayers that always begin somewhere between ...."Dear Lord, Please let me show you that winning the lottery won't corrupt me, I promise to be generous and kind to all in need." and "Dear Lord, please be with me I am scared of (You name it I am afraid)" Somewhere in there I noticed that the things I was jokingly asking for were starting to find their way to me. Now, I know that I prayed for a printing press many years ago.....well about 22 to be exact but it just goes to show that I didn't need one until now. I guess that means there is still time for the lottery.......but I digress. My lovely next door neighbor happens to have a friend who is moving over seas and cannot take her Vandercot proof press with her. In the course of an afternoon chat my name came up and BOOM chicka wow wow.....I am mentioned and it was all down hill from there....... So now I am for in the debt of a wonderful lady named Rosie....(Everyone send good prayers to Rosie as way of thank yous....Thanks Rosie.....Thank you everyone) And I am staying up late into the night trying to figure a way to get this puppy home. Ah, that it could just follow me. I would leave that trail of bread crumbs gladly. I really did stay up last night just pondering it then this afternoon My family and I were eating dinner with a friend who is in town for just a little while with his two teen aged boys and the light came on....There is a truck and five of us.........we are going to give it a go....

What is the worst that could happen? Oh I don't want to think about that ........"Dear Lord Please................"

To be continued......

The Sour

As with all things be careful of boasting about good things, because there is always that curve ball waiting (a trench coated curve ball waited for me in a foggy alley last week). During our family vacation I learned that my grandmother passed away. I was looking for a way to describe how I feel about all of this to the people around me and I still haven't a clue. I expressed to a friend that I lost her. "Yes, I set her down in the park and some strange bird swooped down and picked her up and carried her off.." I didn't lose her - I lost something much more valuable, time. The time that I could have spent getting to know her as an adult sloshed through my fingers and I feel the loss of it. I regret it. I know too that I feel like a fraud. Admitting to people that this is going on in my life feels like I am not being respectful of people who were close to their grandparents and then lost them... (there it is again) I don't want to say died.

The last time I saw my grandmother I thought about her hands. Throughout the years I have watched her hands age and become the high contrast map of her. Her nails always nicely done courtesy of my sweet and endlessly patient Aunt. The pale pinks and sculpted nails of her, always carefully filed to just the right height. A tissue sometimes tucked in her sleeve. The smell of pot roast and potatoes boiling. I can remember looking down at my hands with their grimy nails and chipped cuticles and thinking that I had better go wash before she caught me. I didn't want her to see me lacking. There were so many other grandchildren who were the epitome of perfection. Now looking back I wonder how is it that the slippers and socks that she bought me as a kid are now the only thing I ever ask for at Christmas but the last thing I wanted then? I think that Dumbledore was right....You can never have too many warm wool socks.

The Sweetness

This summer, with doom and gloom that surrounds us has felt like an oasis for me. I feel the sweetness like a gift from God. From the Farmers market in my hometown to knocking around at the book barn (sweet) Spending time being able to enjoy the company of friends and laughing so much it hurts. (Sweetness) There is no need to spend money on a big meal......There is the phone call "Well, what have you got in your fridge...yeah cool that came out of your garden sweet..... well I have this in mine and some of that frozen sounds great........" I have enjoyed fireworks, walks at my favorite parks with my favorite people, sand between my toes and blue sea around me. I know that every news program shouts at me how deep in debt I am and how I will lose my house or my job if I am not careful, but for now in this piece of peace I can keep back these adult nightmares and just be in the Present. Last Saturday morning I was walking through a little local farmers market and there were my neighbors selling the soaps they had made or the honey from their bees, the maple syrup from their trees. It felt right. So for you my friends reading this. Thank you for having a great summer with me......Get this we still have weeks left in which to have fun. My bathing suit is drying on the line and I think it is time to be sandy and salty again.....Hey the Raspberries are really getting ripe......Sweet.

Music and Paint

I have been painting....In silence, the night.....quietly with my earphones on and the world tuned out. It pleases me to put paint on my fingers and clothes as well as the canvas. What a curious feeling it is. Looking at something so hard while trying to copy the little detail that your eye sees but you don't consciously think about. Detail while still keeping spirit is thrilling. But I realise how fragile a illusion it is. It is trickery. Lying to the eye. Every color, every brush stroke is a little tiny gust of something that I can't quiet put my finger on. There is no explanation as to why I did what or what color should go where. I watch my children draw with abandon. Not caring about how things come out. I have to use the conduit of music to get there and am not so secretly green about it all. I watch them and wonder if it is a lack of confidence that keeps me painting out of eyesight of others, The need to control all aspects of the painting or an unwillingness to be interrupted and risk losing momentum. One way or the other I am looking to dazzle. I crave the beauty of it. When the painting is gone. It is like I never did it. That is why I like photographs.....You can always reprint.....Or I could try doing as Degas did just keep painting at the keyhole. I think I should buy some more fruit. One more apple painting might not be such a bad idea. Maybe I will go really big this time.. Maybe I will watch and see what happens to catch my eye, until then, I will finish this one and let you see it before I'm done. I trust you.

Laughter (Not for children)

I had a friend who recently told me she laughed so hard it felt like doing stomach crunches the next day. That is weight loss for me. I was sitting......(um) in a quiet spot for a moment with the door closed, thinking about laughter and how close to other physical responses it is. At this point I think I should say this is not a PG post. A good climax is like laughter (please people I have kids) or even a good cleansing cry. You feel emotionally stronger and clean after. There is a bond to yourself and to the person you have laughed with. Crying and having someone hold you. (I think you understand). I want to share a few of the stories that made me laugh in the past few weeks. My husband and I have seen some good friends during vacation time and I know that I am blessed with laughter. Seeing my long distance friends (..... my best friend Cheryl....she made me write that) it also brings into focus all the other people who really make me laugh daily. One of my favorite stories to tell about Cheryl is about her daughter Corrie. Corrie now grown, was about five. Corrie had a thing for wolfing down her food rather than chewing. Cheryl had spoken to Corrie on several occasions about the fact she needed to chew her food. What really sticks in a child's head? Visual examples. Cheryl a working mom needed daycare for Corrie. One day as she was picking her up at a home based daycare Corrie started complaining of a stomach ache. Cheryl told me that she tried to hustle Corrie out of the house but just as they reached the foyer with its gleaming wood floors, Corrie gave one great heave and lost everything she had in her stomach. A steamy mass of partially chewed Mac and Cheese. Cheryl's first response as she told it was not comfort or sickness of her offspring. No Cheryl told me later that her first words were. "Corrie....See....look, I told you to chew your food." (As an added disclaimer Cheryl is one of the most devoted and loving parent I have ever met)

Some of my other favorites were our friend Jeff telling us about his grown sons love of all things trucks as a boy. Josh would point out trucks and even yell them out in public if he though he wasn't being listened to. Not uncommon my son and nephew do the same. Josh couldn't say truck or gas though it sounded like gas with no Gu sound and truck with a FF sound. So running through an airport trying to catch a flight as his son sees a gas truck refueling a plane sounds like he is yelling A*@ F#$K daddy. Look Daddy...No look daddy. "Ah yes Joshy a GAS TRUCK" said very carefully. Ah yes the Gas Truck.......... My own contribution to this was my son wanting to send everyone X's and O's with his letters to let people know he loves them but it sounded to me at first like he wanted to send Ex's and ho's.....not my first thought when it comes to love but funny just the same. Seeing friends from far away also makes me understand just how blessed I am in my day to day life with laughter. Thank you my friends.

Budget Cut Blues....Also know as they can't play music in school

It's a sad day in my hometown as I am sure it is in a lot of hometowns. People are voting on where to lop off the pound of flesh that is needed to cover budget short falls. I know that my little slice of heaven is not so different from any other square of love but.....Well heck it hurts. In some respects my expecting life to bump along merrily and stop when I need to get some rest is such a self centered notion....... life does revolve around me doesn't it?........well my life at least

(I even have my own theme music.) It shakes the tree a little to find that everyone else thinks it revolves around them, come on people.....How can that be? I bet it is the reality TV craze that has done it. Even our President has joked about having his own reality TV show. See he feels it too.

Somehow cutting budgets and dropping music and computer classes doesn't jibe with the town that I chose to raise my children in. In my must see TV of life, the camera would pan to the younger chubby me running into my 3rd grade classroom Waiting for something..... empty of Art until I heard a wonderful musician who came to my school Mr. Natalie. (I pray I have spelt his name right because, He did right by me.) Mr. Natalie played for an auditorium full of kids and let us all know that there was a world of music and arts out there if we only had the desire to try. The instruments were so shiny and so intricate I couldn't wait to get my sweaty 9 year old fingerprints all over the shine. Mr. Natalie was my music teacher all through grade school up till I reached high school I played any instrument he put in front of me and felt grateful for the chance. I was able to play onstage and not embarrass myself because of him and more because of the Tax payers of my town who payed him. I didn't do drugs or end up pregnant (even when it looked like those were places I could be headed) because I knew that my theme music was not a tragedy or a horror but a life affirming girly flick. I had value and I could play even when I couldn't do other things. Music lead to art and other forms of expression, but I firmly believe that it all started with music and that first chance to play.

Walking through the halls of the grade school where my children learn and live a life I am now removed from I remember the smells of the music room. The rosin for the bows and the cork grease for the reed instruments. Their school is now challenged with what to remove. There is such pain over this because there is no easy answers. Everyone has a different agenda over what is important to them because the world revolves around us all. All I ask is that it is a fair cut and everyone feels the pain. I will take my share knowing that you also feel the hurt and perhaps that will unite us to work towards better solutions in the future. I wish I had some happy ending that I could tie onto all of this. Perhaps a lottery ticket found on the side of the road that could be used to keep the music playing at the grade school. Pan the cameras over the grade school band playing for the senior center while every dog that needs to find a home in the now open shelter is loving, sweet and adopted by lonely single mothers. I bet some indie film developer could make a feel good hit out of it.

The smell of.......

There are certain smells I love and would do anything to protect. Yet, we all agree there are smells that even now you could imagine and gag from. Chicken waste.....yuck.....A full diaper Genie.......A trash can in hot sun with 4 day old shrimp shells....ugg...stale beer... feeling a little sick here. Good smells are more subtle. I love the smell of oil paint drying on a canvas. My eldest told me that it is akin to the smell of apple orchard in the fall, which is another great smell. Back in art school my best friend, who shall remain nameless (Cheryl), said that her paints looked good enough to eat. I totally agree because they certainly smell good enough. The opening of my paint box always makes my mouth water ever so slightly.....kinda gross. (I am not promoting the eating of oil base paint and have never tried them......They will make you sick!) The Caswell and Massey Soap Black Current may smell good enough to eat but it's still soap. (Not that I would know anything about that and there was no"Dare"involved.) The BookBarn on a sunny day, Colchester Bakery, fresh cut grass, cookies or apple pie baking. Stop and think about the last time you entered a house on a really cold day when the oven is on, the smell like a blanket around you. I know why Americans eat so many cookies. I associate well being with warm cookies. Everyone talks about the smell of babies and after I had mine I realized just how far I would go to protect that smell. It is primal. Recently, I was sitting at a baby shower with my youngest on my lap. He has just left toddlerville and the world that awaits is still a little scary. I was talking to another mom reminiscing about baby smells. Including my son I told them both that I loved smelling behind his ears because the baby smell still lingered there and I took a good big sniff.....My son inclined his head to our friend and said....."Want some?"

Caught

A wave, colds, balls, fish, with drawers down, captured, encased, seized, stuck, fingered, seen, baited, accurately represented, Pointed out.

Here are a few photos I have "caught" in the past month.

I couldn't wait to share them with everyone so, enjoy, Deb

Lawn Care and How I Don't

My husband is the master of our mower. He knows it's ins and outs. I will use a weed whacker on occasion but I have left off using most power tools since I had a incident with an outdoor extension cord. (when I say "an" it really wasn't one but three outdoor extension cords and a electric hedge trimmer and it was last year). Now flash forward past my hedge clipping issues to this past week when due to a illness that left my sweetheart out of commission for a week, I was left to look at weeds and grass that tickled my ankles and threatened my knees. I had an idea...... Flash forward 10 tense minutes where I managed to remove the mower from my crowded garage, filled it with gas.....so far so good. I mean how hard could this be, then walked it out onto the back forty. I started her up and mowed.....I mowed that yard to within an inch of it's grassy life. The mower sputtered and then died just as I finished the last row. Perfect timing, There was even a thunderstorm rolling in just as I put the mower in the garage. (Dang....I was Queen of the World). I went inside and the glow of my exertions lasted until the sun shone the next day on my freshly butchered lawn. There were spots where the lawn was not mowed and grass poked up ready to seed, then bare patches where I cut to close.....and the edges, well I am not going to say anything about the edges. That's when I started thinking that the difference between MY cutting the lawn and my husband cutting the lawn was the difference between going to a barber to have your hair cut and having your mom cut it. When I told my sweetheart that he laughed and said "It just takes some practice." I am not interested in practicing......... I think I will just buy another extension cord. I already have plenty of practice with the hedge trimmers. Hopefully, The forth time is a charm.

Time as viewed from my underwear drawer and other underware rants

Underwear has its own way of telling time. That time you were sick, how you were smaller or bigger. That stretched elastic and hole that starts in odd places. Why do we get holes in our underwear halfway between our hip and belly button. Was it when the dog chewed them?

I was helping my son clean up his room yesterday, Underwear everywhere. I have found my sons underwear in all manor of strange places. Why? I really want to know. No really Why? and they are not clean..... Again I will blame the dog. At the end of the Christmas season we were taking down the tree and I was called away for a little while. Upon my return there were 7 little pairs of tighty white E's hanging from the branches of the tree. "One for each day of the week Mommy" Yuck. I had two conflicting thoughts.....Wow good job remembering how many days of the week and Uck kid those are not clean. Men have it so much easier boxers or briefs. (Well there was the recent invent of boxer briefs but everyone has fads now and then)..... Jokes are constantly made about women and decisions but we are bombarded with choices for even the simple garments we wear under our clothes. Strings, cotton, silk, lace, itchy, bunching, no tags, boy cut, control top, color, price, sex appeal. Does it mean that I don't care what society thinks of me when I no longer want "foundation garments" or just that I never wear anything that requires me to think that each garment I put on is building the look to a whole new me if even for a night. Why do I keep them? I really want to know. I think I will go with something safe. I am going to look for the five star crash rating the next time I buy a six pack of anything, even socks. If cars have five star ratings then, I want them for my knickers as well. The package should read something like this ......the Consumer Safety and Happiness Committee tested these unmentionables and the overall consumer rating was 4 1/2 out of 5 stars. The frontal and side seams were tested for stretch and durability with zero accidents causing rips or stains. The rear impact test was also found to have the appropriate amount of stretch and flexibility even when the test subject was faced with landing on her butt....... Now that is a pair of undies I would buy.

My shameful love for Kermit the Frog

I am coming out of the closet, throwing open the windows and shouting it for all to hear. Kermit the frog has been the object of my affection for most of my life. When at six and Brownies fell on the same night as the Muppet show I knew which had to go. I didn't really miss Brownies. The Brownie leaders basement smelled funny anyway. I knew that we had a date every Thursday night. Time and hormones have a way of helping you forget those first crushes. Kermit was no different. I knew it would never work out between us and I had no desire to be just another Miss Piggy. I had all but forgotten my green fetish until there was a drink milk campaign and Kermit was show wearing a tweed coat and a milk mustache. I admit it My heart went pitter pat. I kept the add. Now I know that there are more of us out there or else I would not have been able to find the image online. http://www.froggyville.com/images/collect/gotmilkposter.jpg

I was flipping through a Rolling Stone Magazine (Back when I was hip and young) and I saw Kermit and I joked with my husband of eight years that he never had to worry about me straying because the my only other love was Kermit the frog. The very next holiday (Christmas or my birthday I forget now) I was blindfolded and given a the nicest piece of furniture I had ever owned. A mission style rocking chair and sitting cross legged on its slats was a Kermit the frog. If you squeezed his belly he would say things like "I am feeling a little green today" and when you held his mouth shut he would hum. Pressing his hand a buzzing noise would start open his mouth and he ate it smacking his lips. Everything was perfect. Yet one sunny afternoon I found myself rocking Kermit. I came to rocking that silly frog. Kermit looked at me a plastic eyed sage. His tag read something about ages of use but, the word that stuck was children. Kermit was there when I realised that I could no longer be the child but would raise them. Broaching the subject with my sweetheart was easy. He had known already what I had been to blinded by youth to see. He laughed and shook his head. Rick has always been good at reading the road signs and having a plan. It was time and what was more we were in the same place, scared but ready. Kermit was at the hospital and in each nursery. He has been chewed (by both dog and child) washed, dragged, thrown, spit up on, peed on, washed some more and used as a dust rag. (Sorry Kermi)
Other frogs have invaded our house. There is even a frog bathroom. Just a few days ago as an I love you or a now you have one of your own, I am not sure which, I got my first Webkin. I have named him Morris. Morris is nice but there is only one Kermit. Thank you Kermit.

To blog or not to blog that is the question

Also known as what have you done lately..... good question my friends I have started to create this blog. (What a cop out all my artsy friends might be thinking and quiet frankly I agree) I have had means and opportunity to paint, draw and even take meaningful photos of brooding people that inspire us to sit and wonder just what those photos mean. Instead what I have taken photos of are my children's baseball teams and the odd flower. Yes those boys are burying that base. What a lot of fun t-ball is. You get to yell things like "Run to first base" "No" "First base" "First base" oh whatever......Questions I have heard "does he need a cup?" I was thinking like for water but, no not that kind of cup my dear welcome to the world of baseball.

But not just baseball it is welcome to the world of children competing for their parents pleasure. I have a good friend who's daughter plays for a team in a neighboring town and our first t-ball game was against them. She called to talk trash......yes my friends t-ball trash. My kid is going to knock your kid on their *Bleep* sort of stuff. (I found myself enjoying it and escalating it before you knew it there was my kid listening in the background wondering why mommy was talking to miss Alley like that. He was really upset. He thought there was actually something wrong I guess I am a better actress than I thought.

So I tell myself that summer is coming and baseball season will be over soon. I can feel the paintings bubble up inside of me. I have started planning them, started thinking about canvas choice and color. Style and how I want things placed. Whom will grace the canvas and will I try something new or work on tried and true, but all of that can wait until after my children's baseball season. Its short and way more fun than I expected.

Added: Just received an email from my friend Jenn who read this. She told me that it won't be long before the cup issue is a reality. Her son is not much older than mine and he must wear a cup. (gotta protect the future) They check the cups by knocking....or tapping lightly on it. That is one job I wont put my hand up for. I can see it now. "OK, Who wants to be on cup duty?" Thank god there was a warning before that storm hit. They aren't talking about Dixie or whistling it for that matter. ( Another friend just wrote to say, that it is the parents responsibility to ensure that the cup is in place in our league. phew!) I know that my son given the choice would wrap on that thing as long as I let him. (Is that where the song I don't wanna work I want to bang on the drum all day comes from?) Jenn also said that the boys pound on the cups like bongo drums. Now you have to tell your kid not to bang on other peoples cups. "Honey...ELi....No don't hit little Bobbie there honey you could hurt him." What I can't say is don't hit little Bobbie like that, I don't like the way he is smiling. That is just not done there are explanations for actions I don't want to even go towards. I never realised that when I had kids the questions would be such a minefield and now I realise why my parents gave me books to read rather than talking about "stuff" to me and why I heard "because I said so." What a safe harbor "Because I said so" is Mom.....Dad, I forgive you and I love you.