The night the babysitter peed on our rug

When I was just breaking into the writing field I decided to interview a young woman who had worked for us as a babysitter previously. She had a heartbreaking accident that left her debilitated - details of which I won't go into here so as not to reveal her identity.

She dropped by on the planned night and we decided to do the interview at a local bar/restaurant. Probably my first mistake. As this was a highly emotional topic and incident, we likely had a couple beers along with our Quesadillas. I remember the food well.

Once the interview was complete we were prepared to walk the half mile or so home but somehow detoured into the bar area. Well, by chance the owners of the bar were all congregating, drinking, and generally having a good time. I felt absolutely out of place - frumpy Mom out with the hard drinking crowd. I remember my feelings well and one of the owners (who admitted to me he was an alcoholic) said something to the effect like "Did you and I ever do it" - because you see he wouldn't remember. I shook my head No, because I would remember and resumed sitting sat at the high table. I remember distinctly looking over toward the bar and watching my interviewee down a shot or two - complete with liquor dribbling down her chin. Yikes!

O.K. So after a while of feeling really out of place, I told her that I had to get back. She agreed and we walked home with some creepy guy? seemingly following us most of the way home. When we arrived, she asked if she could spend the night - which seemed like a sensible idea given all the drinking. After I agreed and she didn't follow me in, she explained - 'Not now, I am going back out again.' Mistake number 2 or 3 - I've lost count.

Later that night, much later, I heard a scratching sound as someone tried to find the key hole in the front door. I think I got up and let her in.

By that time, I hadn't slept at all with all the drinking and scratching and all.

And the noise downstairs continued. Thumping, bumping you name it. Finally I was furious and ready to kick her out and descended the stairs to hear what I thought was the tap running. As I rounded the corner into the dining room, there was the subject squatted down on our Oriental carpet peeing - a large volume I might add. After some yelling - telling her to leave and the requisite clean up, the subject retreated to the couch in a dazed humiliation and refused to leave.

I don't think she was there the next day when I woke up but I do remember some crumpled up carnations as some sort of token apology. They might have even been the white ones with the green edging - like you see around St. Patrick's Day.

There's been a lot of pee on our carpets since then - so it's all under the bridge by now.

Unrelated thoughts

• You know its cold outside when you don't take your hat off in the car.
  
  
• I guess Tiger took that slogan "Just Do IT" to heart.
  
  
• When I related to an old friend that my mother should stop driving, he said, "She wasn't that good a driver to begin with" and we laughed because it's true. But I never remember her getting in an accident. Because she grew up in Bermuda (without cars) she didn't learn to drive until she was something like 28 years old. If there was a highway - she wasn't driving on it. If there was a snowflake threatening to fall, she didn't drive that day. If there was snow on the streets, FORGETABOUTIT.
  

Signs

Oh I believe in signs and coincidences and synchronicity and all that stuff. In fact I told my mother when she dies I want a sign that life goes on. I am going to find a fabulous piece of amazonite on the beach. We've got it all planned.

In times of immense struggle I have found signs as well. An evil co-worker was out to sabotage my reputation and projects and created a project with the acronym DAN. I ultimately left the job because I felt life was too short and I wanted to do other things - like write. But a few years later we had a son and coincidentally? named him Daniel. Now I had forgotten all about the DAN project but I certainly wouldn't have had another child if I had continued working there. Coincidence?

Likewise, at that same job during a luncheon walk to get out of the stressful, troubled atmosphere I composed a song - that I believe(d) would prove to be a hit song. I have since recorded it and have sent it to a few places - so time will tell.

But there have been other signs - signs of god's love when I have been absolutely down and out. Long ago, I had a dream about standing behind a male assisting him as he urinated. Now my boyfriend at the time was very judgmental and I believe said something about penis envy. This boyfriend was something I prayed and prayed about - for it all to work out. Years and years later that vision came back to me as I helped one of my son's take aim at the toilet. In other words, the sign said to me I was meant to have these sons with this husband.

Speaking of peeing, next time I will have to regal you with a funny? story I was reminded of at a recent dinner party - and yes it involves someone peeing - on our rug.

Unrelated thoughts

-A boy on Matt's bus was making fun of him and calling him a homosexual. "That's terrible," I said with sympathy. I added, "Not that being a homosexual is terrible." In case you are worried, we have the whole situation worked out.

-I thought I had calmed myself down a notch with the full time job and the kids and all but my eye has been twitching the last couple of weeks - saying otherwise.

-Someone 'stole' my towel at the URI pool the other day. I finished my laps and it was gone. Doug and I both agreed we are not sure we would want to use someone else's towel - except each other's of course. The lifeguards offered to check in the men's locker room and told me I could come out and check with them after I got dressed -oblivious to the fact that I needed a god damned towel.

-How does Santa differ from Tiger? Santa stops after three Hos.
There was a v. funny sport's column listing all the slogans of the products Tiger endorses, with new takes on them. Gillette -'The best a man can be' - god I hope not. You get the idea. It was very creative. Personally, I find the whole affair(s) sickening - but Doug is enjoying the fact that people create false images of people (can you say pedestal?) when they really might be asses.
Why get married? And what can Tiger's mother be thinking? Doug insists she's known all along.

While you were gone

This note was left by the phone for me after Doug and I returned from an outing. The older boys were in charge of babysitting while we were out - though Michael was still asleep when we left, so Matt was really the primary babysitter.

What Matt did while you were gone

-Watch TV and eat multiple servings of breakfast
-Bully Daniel into playing Truth or Dare
-Put a frog in the microwave
-Watched a gory movie

This note was forged by Michael to replace the original note, which follows.

What Matt did while you were gone

-Spread leaves over garden
-Fed Daniel
-Unloaded dishwasher
-Loaded dishwasher
-Pretended to have an interest for Daniel's half hour story on ninjas; trust me IT WAS BORING
-Then watched Daniel's war movie to make him think we shared a common interest in war.

What Michael did sleep!!

This humorous competition had me laughing.

Unrelated thoughts

• Daniel was pretending he was his teacher at school the other day. He was telling his friend he would get a yellow slip for such and such an infraction when that friend (age 6) promptly stuck out his middle finger. Daniel told this story like he was horrified and he was v. confused when I started laughing.

• Don't ya just hate those women that don't eat? I remember commenting to a neighbor on her weight loss and then commenting on my own steady state. In regard to my steady state she asked 'What is the issue (for you) - snacking, portion control, more exercise?' YES ALL OF THOSE.

• My mother called me on my birthday but forgot to wish me happy birthday - instead she launched into some elixir I was to go buy at the health food store that would help my sore throat. Her last several calls have involved similar themes: 'Are you still using aluminum pots for cooking?', information about beef recalls, and fluoride concerns - 'Are the boys still using fluoride toothpaste? Well, I hope they are spitting it out.' You see, I have my very own health protection officer.

• I remember a joke that went bad - a close friend was turning 69 and I bought her a small bottle of Old Grand Dad with a note that said '69 and a little Old Grand Dad just seem to go together.' Needless to say, she didn't think it was as funny as I did and kind of gave me a confused glare when she read the card. Kudos to Doug for saying 'Are you sure you want to do that' before the gift giving.

• Daniel thought he had teeth in his poop the other day. I tried to get him to remember what we had for dinner the night before - corn.

• Speaking of poop - my mother seemed horrified at the reality of wiping my father's backside. He is getting v. feeble and immobile with Parkinson's . . . .

Laws of the Boys

I found this some time ago and was going to try to turn it into a newspaper column but alas I was laid off. These laws were created by my son and possibly a friend as rules for their clubhouse. At the time, he was 9 years old and quite embarrassed that I found it.

1. Trust nobody
2. Accept other ideas (if they are good).
3. Always have gum on you. Only for emergencies (like bullies).
4. Never yell (it looks dumb).
5. Avoid girls. They're impossible to understand.
6. If you want to end a conversation just say random numbers or sounds.

Well, what can I say? I don't agree with number one. I like to believe in the good in people but circumstances can make people change. Circumstances like money and inheritances for instance.

I do agree with number two. Who wants bad ideas?

Gum is nice to have. Though I don't often chew it you never know when it might come in handy to break the ice or repair something akin to MacGyver - remember that old TV show?

Yelling and losing one's temper doesn't accomplish much . . .

As for number five, the same might be said for men or boys.

Number six sounds like the insanity defense to me and could indeed be very effective.

The greatest gifts

I promised to write about the best gift(s) I have ever received and there are three that I can think of.

I worked in the cafeteria for a couple years in college and befriended a shy, 'townie' woman named Mary who was very sweet and definitely grew up with limited educational opportunities, limited funds, and lots of hard work. We maintained our friendship right through my senior year even though I no longer worked in the cafeteria. I remember it was hard to tell her that I had received a job with a professor and would no longer be working with her. But through senior year, we'd meet on occaision for donuts/coffee in the school cafeteria. This venue was open to the public so I could attend even though I was no longer on the school cafeteria plan and mostly subsiting on Kraft Mac and Cheese and frozen peas as I recall.

Anyway, when I graduated from college she gave me a card with a $20 bill in it. This was such a huge sacrifice for her and it is still one of the best gifts I ever remember. I remember I went over to her house to say goodbye to her when she gave it to me.

Similarly, when I worked as a newspaper editor I had a reporter who was v. poor (aren't they all by the way). Though he didn't dwell on it, I remember him scraping together enough money to fill his gas tank and counting on the meager mileage checks for sustenance. At Christmas time, he gave me a $10 gift certificate to Dunkin Donuts which was just about the sweetest thing ever. As I opened it he explained, "It's only $10 dollars." But I knew again what a sacrifice that was for him. I was touched and that was definitely my nicest Christmas present that year.

One other memorable gift that comes to mind was when my grandmother escorted my sister and I into some fabulous gift store and told us we could pick out whatever we wanted. Well, just the thought of the endless possibilities still registers as one of the best gifts ever - and I don't even remember what I picked out because it doesn't matter. The gift was so magical and generous and without limitations.

Unrelated thoughts

• Daniel calls his new basketball sneakers his 'high heels'
• Matthew took a swig of cranberry juice the other day and with a pained expression on his face scowled "What did you do to this juice?" After a few moments, Doug asked him if he had recently brushed his teeth . . .
• When I returned to a state agency where I had worked for 6 years I was struck by the timewarp atmosphere but I was also wistful remembering the nice Italian women who had hung out their rosary beads on their clotheslines for me the day of my wedding to ward off the rain.
• When you haven't seen people for 10 years or more, the changes can be dramatic. Like going from hair to no hair, fat to thin, brown to gray - you get the idea.

Mohawks and other thoughts

Mohawk, ain't it grand!

Well what can I say. Doesn't this image make a mother or father proud. Daniel has had a severe outbreak of lice in his kindergarten class and thankfully (I am told, though I have no experience with lice) he has not contracted them. But he did get a Mohawk when I suggested Doug buzz his hair off. "He's always wanted one," was the answer I received. I thought Daniel would be severely made fun off but he seems to like the attention.

I did insist we cut it off before Thanksgiving (the photos and all).

It's kind of reminding me of my good friend's husband who just got a sizeable, colorful tattoo. I actually don't think he got it because he loves tattoos, there's some other deeper, lurking reason akin to Daniel's loving the Mohawk - the attention, rebelliousness, or some other deeper pschyology. Doug said these reasons are why everybody gets tattoos. This tatoo has caused some tension in that household and I think that's part of the appeal.

Unrelated thoughts

• Hey, Toto the dog has taken to sleeping on the couch in the kitchen. He is so brazen and so cute that no one has bothered to kick him off or reprimand him. It pays to be cute.
• Oh, the Patriots lost in a big way to the Colts but what I take from the whole episode is the fact that it is so easy to second guess a coach or team when we know the outcome i.e they lost.
• I've decided what my purpose is in life: to give people a nudge and make people think. What do you think of that?

I'm also coming out of my shell and decided to volunteer for the children's sermon at church. It would be so tempting to grab that wireless mike and launch into the intro of Blue Moon. "Kids this microphone is SO cool." But alas I was going to talk about gifts and the greatest gift I have ever received and then of course parlay this with the gifts we all have and the gift of Jesus etc. which I don't buy that much but this is church afterall.

I'll write about the greatest gift(s) I have ever received for next time. Peace.

Confidence is key

A woman at the talent show said her life is so full of responsibility with work and kids that it was nice to have something that was just for fun. She and two other women did a dancing/karyoke number to Dancing Queen. It was funny and looked fun.

Before the talent show, Matt said 'Confidence is key' and for him that meant preparation. he practiced and practiced and had his song memorized. He went up to the piano and didn't even open his music and he played it flawlessly. I was so proud of both he and Michael. Michael too practiced his song though he regreted not picking a more difficult one. As a result he was a little embarrassed.

As we convened at Tony's Pizza afterward, I told him to be proud, and not to take anything out on himself. He could be proud - look at all the people in the audience that didn't get up there. He seemed to understand - focus on the positive and take from this 'I'll choose to do things differently nex time' but DON'T take the experience out on yourself.

They both vowed to do the talent show next year - so that's an encouraging sign.

As for my experience, I went last which was an excruciating wait, but the talent show was hokey enough not to take it too seriously. Besides it was mostly kids.

I was nervous but I played my song pretty well - though I didn't make much eye contact with the audience. And I took my own advice, I was proud and vowed next time to engage the audience a little more and to not cut the song a little short (I cut off the last chorus). But I was proud and Michael even said I was the best one in the show.

Which seguays nicely into a question Doug asked me in regard to a conversation we were having about critiques - 'Would you rather have people tell you you are good, even if your music sucked?' YES. We laughed and laughed.

An original song is Soul Bearing. Be Kind.

I too may do the talent show next year - so I take that as a good sign.

Anything is possible

I have a dream and I am not talking about racial equality. I have a dream to write a hit song (or two) and collect 1, big fat paycheck. But there are plenty of naysayers out there. When I played my CD for my sister she commented on my "strained" voice and tried to back track by saying folk singers don't need good voices anyway. Gee thanks.

My piano teacher, who has actually been pretty supportive, told me the CD was good but he added it's more like a "demo" CD - in other words not final quality. He doesn't think I have a chance in the cutthroat music business - to succeed.

My husband Doug, though supportive, says little.

Still I hold onto the dream of unlimited prosperity from my songs. It's fun and makes me feel like anything is possible, because you never know.

My kids ask me if my songs have been on the radio, yet. Or when will they be on? Are they naive or believers?

Anything is possible, anything. And I am grateful to the man who helped me produce the CD - he said I have a gift. Now I don't take myself TOO seriously but that was a real compliment from a real musician.

Unrelated thoughts

• I have been feeling some tension in my face between my eyebrows and remembered several years ago when a friend said I looked SO relaxed at an Xmas party, remarking my new job must be going really well. (That was after 2 Cosmos at a local bar prior to the party).

• The dogs are playing and getting along after several months of getting to know each other. I've seen the 14 year old Tia chasing Toto in the yard, barking her deaf bark. They've also been seen nuzzling each other's various parts.

• Michael wondered if he'd get swine flu after drinking out of the same cup as Daniel - YES. He brought another cup up to the bathroom but it was too late. All of us have had H1N1 except Doug.

• I remember when we settled on Michael's name before he was born and my mother-in-law asked us how we would spell that, which kind of struck me as asking how would someone spell Bob. Mikail is now 12.

• I notice my neighbor who gets v. agitated at speedy drivers when her kids are out playing, drives as fast as anyone. Ironic, no? but we do tend to see our own flaws in someone else. So what does this commentary say about me?

• I signed up for the church talent show figuring at any rate it would be something to write about. Also, I was thinking it might be inspiring to the boys - Michael and Matt are both playing the piano! I'll let you know how it goes.

I remember now

From last time the thing that set me off laughing was Doug attempting to vacuum a towel covered with Toto hair. Of course, I must have been anticipating the towel getting tangled up in the rotary mechanism - but miraculously it did not.

Speaking of hair, we've had a few hair raising experiences with hair in food in our family lore. Long blond hairs on take out pizza. Black curly hairs in a sub at a chain that I will never enter again. Of course, just the thought of these incidents is enough to nauseate me. Who needs diets? Thought control can be very powerful. While recounting one of these incidents, Michael reminded me that "Hair is in everything we eat." Nice. It doesn't bother him in the least because an adolescent boy (almost) is driven to EAT - hair or not.

Unrelated thoughts

I realize I am going to need some new pet names now that there is a boy dog in the house. No more 'Girls' or 'Little Missies' - but what's a collective nickname that's not gender based? 'How are my furry friends?' 'Hello hairballs.' You get the idea. Suggestions?

Toto proceeded to growl at trick or treaters, when he escaped from the basement where he was keeping Michael company - who has the swine flu. Anyway, I explained to one group that he was afraid of the costumes. One woman said, 'Afraid of a fairy?' Yes, sorry, even a fairy. This is one sheltered pup and we are slowly exposing him to the world.

In fact, the old man in the graveyard with the bad toupee tried to give him a biscuit and got so frustrated when Toto wouldn't come close to him and his booming voice (Is it any wonder?) After a couple tosses of biscuits, finally Toto did take a biscuit with a big snap to the man's hand.

I laughed so hard - the boys thought something was wrong

Toto's new haircut

The idea was to try to 'save' a little money by cutting Toto's hair ourselves. After a wash and dry and comb, it was painfully obvious that spending $50 bucks at the dog groomer is well worth it. (This was even before the cutting.) Such a project can take HOURS and the volume of hair was astounding.

The $100 clippers proved fairly inadequate - it wasn't like shearing a sheep - though Doug tried as evidenced by the strip of stubble on Toto's back. You can't see it but one of his front legs is shaved and looks like a chicken leg compaired to the other. Toto is surprisingly bony.

I laughed until I cried

I can't remember what set me off, except the visual, and I don't often laugh uncontrollably anymore. But this was completely out of control, so much so that I thought I might choke at one point due to the bite of pizza in my mouth. Matthew thought I was v. upset - he couldn't understand. He'd never seen me laughing this way. Ah the proximity of pleasure and pain, love and hate. I guess that's what he was witnessing. I was laughing so hard for about 5 full minutes, that I was crying and almost choking all at once.

Meanwhile, Toto is completely unfazed by all this. And next Tuesday he will get a professional trim. Anyone need any dog clippers? - they've only been used once and I can give you a good price.

Unrelated thoughts

• Another wrong-sided surgery at RI Hospital was reported this week. People, please if you are going in for surgery on a body part, mark it yourself with a permanent marker just to be sure.
• 1 lump or 2? Go for 2.
• The school crossing guard told the kids and I to have a good weekend but it was only Tuesday. Ah, to be retired
  
  

Happy Halloween - reverse order

3. Daniel and Toto make up

2. The sound of the claw alone terrifies the dog

1. Daniel warms up with the claw

Flying thoughts

I guess little boys do get conscious about the importance of being buff at a young age. Daniel, still 5, had heard about 6-pack abs but instead he calls his belly a 1-pack. Now that's cute. The older boys just kind of roll their eyes in amusement.

By the way, I flew today to Louisville and Sunday is a beautiful day to fly. It's quieter than other days.

Today, on the way to the airport Daniel said, "It's my destiny to fly." Not a minor word for a kid who is still 5. He's got a destiny alright. And from the photo/post last time, my friend Nan reminded me that Daniel must not be destined to be a serial killer or a sociopath because he doesn't pull the wings and legs off the insects he catches (that I know of).

Anyway, at the airport goodbyes, I noticed that Matt, 10, was more hestitant to hug me goodbye than Daniel. Mom must be losing her cool a little.

BUT, I did get a big hug from Daniel when I brought home a Wolverine claw courtesy of my boss (long story). When I presented the boys with caramel apples that night for dessert, Daniel wondered if these too were from the boss . . . he's taken on mythical qualities.

Unrelated thoughts: I bought a black sweater yesterday at Fashion Bug for my trip. It was size XL but seemed to fit me fine even though I don't see myself as XL. But today I discovered why - you need some honkin' big breasts to fill out this sweater and it kinda droops on me now. Perhaps after a wash and dry - it'll fit a little more snugly.

Speaking of breasts, it is supposedly the 1st thing men notice. And I realized this was true the other day when Doug described an x-colleague of his as the one with the huge knockers. Meanwhile, I hadn't even noticed. Men. . .

Somewhere recently I was reading about maggots, of all things and the fact that trashmen in NYC refer to them as disco rice. Now that's funny.

My friend Carrie the painter has noticed if she's painting en plein air - people feel like they have the right to comment about her ability, speed, and what not. Kinda reminds me of when I was pregnant - out there exposed for the world to see and people feel free to make comments both good and bad. 'You look great. How far along are you - only 6 months? How much weight have you gained?' Etc. Etc. They offer opinions about almost everything from birthing to child rearing.

Sometimes it's nice to do things en closed air - anonymously.

This new book I am reading Outliers is fascinating. Alot of successful people have 1 thing in common - excellent timing and circumstances.

On a serious note, working f/t and being a mother leaves little downtime and it's stressful . . .

Headliners

These are the caricatures Michael drew in church that had us is stitches

- the order from left to right being Michael, Matthew, Daniel.

The delicate hands of a 5-year-old collecting bugs for kindergarten share.

• Who the heck are these new contestants on Dancing with the Stars? Well sure I've heard of Michael Irvin and Donny Osmond but none of the rest except I did know Tom DeLay's name. He was House Majority leader . . . when I am not sure. But I wouldn't recognize him in a crowd if my life depended on it. They solve this problem on the show, by having an introductory biography segment to explain why these people are in fact stars. It just goes to show you we all could be on the show as stars and have as much name/face recognition. They could simply make up stories about us about why we are famous and no one would know the difference.



• How come I was the only one that thought it was funny when my boss was talking about 'laying down some pipe' in a staff meeting. This is an expression Doug uses and my boss said this after he had just asked the 401K bank representative to discuss 'load' funds, as he snickered.


• This gem of a headline was in the Pro Jo today - Man in fatal cycle accident free on bail. Now I don't usually like to make fun of death but this was funny.



• This gem of a sign was posted at URI this morning - If you are experiencing flu-like symptoms please refrain from working out. Do we really need to be reminded to refrain from working out when we have the flu? God I hope not. I can barely get myself to the pool at 7 a.m. when I am perfectly healthy, nevermind when I have the flu.
  

It's been a while

It's been a while for a new post because I have been BUSY. Fourty hours can take a big cut out of my blog time. In any case, the last couple of days I have realized if I focus - I can still find some funny topics to write about. And Doug has the camera, so no pics this week.

• We just got back from church and a couple of funny things happened. One happens to be bathroom humor, so avert your eyes if you don't like it. Matt returned to the pew from the bathroom and announced he had sprayed Airwick down his pants - specifically down his butt. He recounted that he had created something in the bathroom that had smelled very bad and he couldn't get rid of the smell, so this was his solution. The Airwick (presumably a brand of air freshener) wafted my way throughout the service.
• Michael proceeded to draw cariactures of his brothers during the service. He expained a couple of times that they were cariactures - one brother had an exaggerated big nose and one had a chubby face complete with a chin roll. These were pretty funny and even the boys laughed at their own expense. But the funniest drawing of them all (did I mention that the boy can draw?) was the one requested he do of himself. It looked like a comic book superhero complete with Adonis like features and a big muscled chest.

Outside of and inside of church, I am noticing some mild behavior problems with Daniel like refusing to listen and generally being fresh (did I mention he's still 5?) At Matt's soccer game, Daniel kept battling with me for a borrowed chair. I even let him sit in it alone for a time or two - he was simply obsessed with the chair and practically wrestling me for it. He did sit in my lap for a good stretch but he wanted that chair. To add some levity to the situation, I offered to rent the chair from him but he wouldn't get out of the chair without first securing payment i.e. he had no intention of getting up. He's smart. Me thinking I was smarter tossed the nickle a short distance a way, figuring he'd have to get up from the chair to retrieve the nickle. Did I mention he's smart? He simultaneously started dragging the chair and gropping for that nickel in the grass.

On another totally separte note, I'd like to mention it's nice to have a dog that can hear. For the last few years we have had two dogs - but neither one could hear. That means they don't get up to greet you unless they see you and you, the owner has to go find them for feeding time or to put them outside. Well, halleluah - our new dog Toto can hear! A whole new world has opened up for us - he greets us in the morning - hearing us before we even are aware we are awake ourselves. His hearing is so acute that he actually hears slugs slithering on the flagstones outside. Well not really but it's so acute that he actually never sleeps that we know of while we are awake downstairs. He doesn't want to miss a thing.

Hope you've found these stories entertaining. Now time for our Internet poll: Should I participate in the church talent show. I feel a certain pull to do it but realized that I don't actually like being exposed or performing in front of others. Is this a good thing to challenge myself with and why? Because in my dreams I am on Oprah due to a hit song and better get used to performing in public. . . .

Did I mention I wrote a new song that I really think could be a big hit?

Control

I guess when the family was away last weekend, I had the illusion of control. The house was vacuumed and stayed neat, the dishes were all tucked away in the dishwasher or cabinets, and all was organized.

When they came back, that illusion quickly evaporated and chaos descended. Oh someone played a message on the answering machine that I never got and when I drove to an evening appointment, no one was there. I was pissed at everyone. Oh wouldn't I have rather relaxed with the family and maybe even had another beer rather than gone out for more driving, after a day of driving. YES.

The next morning I reached for the dog biscuits only to have the whole lot come cascading down the side of the fridge and all over the floor. My husband said it was like a doggie pinyata. Very funny. It seems that one of the boys had carefully placed the opened box upside down - like a booby trap for the next biscuit distributor. So much for control and staying organized.

But I am calming down in general about the job and to feel more settled after one month is pretty damn good. Still a couple of my new co-workers have me scratching my head when they've said (and I quote) "It's not alot of money - but you can't beat the working conditions." Can't beat the money? I don't dare tell them my salary for fear I could upset the apple cart. I think the money is damn good (there's that word again). As Doug reminded me - what else could they be doing and making that much? It's almost dillusional.

When I was at the state there was similar rhetoric about how much money people could make if they left for consulting but alas most never left and instead settled into complacency and mediocrity. Anyway these people, my new co-workers, have never worked at a newspaper. As a result of that experience, I think the pay is great and the working conditions even better. So there. I am not yet jaded about the pay.

And I know I am calming down because I actually started cooking again - which I take as a sign that I am relaxed. Who wants to cook when they are stressed? I rest my point. I made our Friday night pizza and some pancakes for the boys this morning. Is cooking more a good or a bad thing? In this case it's good.

Hey on my rounds for work I met a woman at a school with a daughter named Galen - spelled just like my name. When I told her that I'd never met another Galen - she told me there was a reporter at the local paper with that name. Well I told her that was me, even though I was the EDITOR, which is a much more important position . . .

She proceeded to tell me the story of how her daughter received her name. For the first couple or few months, she had no name and the mom started calling her Angel. One day her husband came home and said he re-arranged the letters to Galen - an Angel in disguise.

An Angel in disguise. I always knew one anagram for my name was Angel but the Angel in disguise thing is pretty cool. I'll try to live up to that. Quite a contrast to the "Little Devil" nickname I had in college.

Beach it, if you can

The beach is like a mini vacation even for a day. I just spent a glorious day at the beach swimming and sunning - rejuvenating me for my work week.

And it's nice to have a weekend to myself, with the family away. But even with a glorious beach break I still feel a little confined by working full time (40 hours is 40 hours). I love the money and not having to worry if I can pay for this week's groceries, but still confined. There's laundry, shopping and weeding to be done and less time to spread it all out in.

Uninterupted time is nice though - it helps me calm down some what. But this job, I don't know if there's enough to do to keep me interested. Or do I do as my co-worker suggested and just enjoy it. Hmmm.

It all just makes me feel that life is meant for living and not working all the time. Do I sound like some kind of dilettante?

Michael has asked me to take him swimming a couple times and I simply can't.

Work, the drudgery, has made me think I need to take this next year of guaranteed pay and finish a second album, write my award winning screen play, or simply promote the hit songs I have already recorded. And not feel guilty if I don't have enough to do at work. Because I'll do as much as I can.

Perfect

This is the garden taken from the upstairs window - thru the screen.

From afar, it doesn't look TOO weedy. But trust me, it is.

Someday I'm going to have the perfect garden is kinda like saying someday I'm going to have the perfect life. I'm talking about a garden where weeds don't grow and the only things between the rows is luscious, brown, tilled-up soil. I wanted such a garden this year but I started working and the garden is too God Damn big. Excuse me. But to reduce the lawn area that requires mowing, my husband doubled the size of the thing last year. Does he weed or otherwise deal with the garden - NO. But in his infinite wisdom he determined that we needed a bigger garden. So someday . . . I will have the perfect garden.

One very simple way to achieve this would be to have a container garden like my friend Nan. You see it has to be manageable. Otherwise, what is the point.

Other thoughts on working vs. not working

Not working is better. Did I say this already in an earlier post? As much as I like aspects of working and making money and interacting with people, the idea of lounging at the beach, writing, writing poetry, and writing songs is all very appealing. Perhaps after my work stint, my new goal will be to attract abundance doing something I truely love - like writing or writing songs.

A life of leisure. Now there's a goal. Forgetabout the perfect garden. What was I thinking?

No more fun and games

Before and after shots of our 3 plus months together.

Here are the pictures I promised a while ago of Daniel and I after our time together.

See how paunchy and pudgy we were in the before shots and see how muscular, fit and happy we are

in the after shots. It was a beautiful few months and now it's back to reality. I remember I wrote in my blog

how this quiet life was quietly becoming facinating. Well it's quiet no more.

I've decided rather quickly that working is good or bad depending on how you look at it. Bad in that I am no where near as relaxed as I was. Bad in that I have less time for fun things. I rarely cook anymore (good or bad?). I used to cook the kids breakfast and make pizza on Friday nights. You see in a way by working I treat myself more because time is more precious - by buying pizza for example. Daniel doesn't come on the walks anymore (good or bad?). I am less anal about my new car and specks of dirt that accumulate on the floor mats. I am less anal in general because I simply don't have time. For example, Toto pooped all over the living room rug one night after Doug gave him copious amounts of left over salmon skin and a pan to lick. This didn't really bother me in the slightest, though Doug did clean up the mess. Could that have had something to do with it?

Good or bad? The frickin pay is GOOD. I am telling you when the payroll clerk told me the amount of my first check for 2 weeks work I almost dropped the phone. The take home pay is more than 3 times what I was bringing home at the newspaper. So that is GOOD. And I have promptly planned a few excursions so that money doesn't burn a hole in the bank account. Doug and I will go to Bermuda for my cousins wedding in May and the whole famdamily will go to the Everglades and Keys this April! It's not cheap to buy airline tickets for five or even two people these days. So the extra cash will help ease the strain.

Also after being unemployed, it's good to be employed and I do like having work colleagues again. But my creative pursuits are suffering.

Unrelated thoughts:

• I don't necessarily like being this busy. I used to think my creative impulses would flow when I was really busy. Now I don't necessarily think so. I think slower might be better for creative pursuits. But this one gem did come to me in the midst of my new job frenzy. In fact I was going to compose a whole list of things my mother taught me but only this one came to mind:

If you spill milk and wipe it up with the sponge, you have to rinse out the sponge or it will really smell.

I must have neglected to rinse out the sponge as a girl and remember her telling me this in the kitchen like it was very important.

• My mother now brings a picture of her grandmother, Grandma Hill, around with her when she travels. She says it's her guardian angel to help her when she forgets things. It's actually really cute - she places the framed photo on her dressing table to look over her.

• As unsettling at times as this new job has been (it's an adjustment) - because 40 hours is 40 hours. I do feel that my guardian angel (my deceased friend Helen) is providing me with this excellent work opportunity somehow. The job literally fell into my lap. It's also made me realize this is how people who work feel - stressed and busy. It's given me some empathy insight.

• Has anybody out there seen the Wrestler?? Pretty good movie.

20/20

Mom is long gone and I am still recovering . . . .While she was here I caught the full-blown flu from my son Matthew. It started on Monday night as I was caught wondering why my knees were aching horribly. The next day I knew. Actually for the next week I knew. On third thought I still know because after fever, aches, and sore throat, I developed an eye infection that is still on the mend.

Now that my mother is gone - it's out of sight out of mind - the worry that is. You see she and my father are growing OLD and she at least doesn't seem ready to face the inevitable. Inevitable being assisted living, nursing home etc. As we toured one assisted living facility's nice two bedroom unit she asked "Where will I entertain." On the positive she still has a terrific spirit of life but on the flip side she should not even be driving and is not ready to acknowledge even that.

One night after a wonderful dinner of grilled chicken with all the fixin's she had her mind fixed on dessert. And not the strawberries and cream I had so laboriously prepared. "Do you have a biscuit, a chocolate biscuit?" No. She asked two to three more times hoping one would materialize. It didn't but it did bring to mind a story I remember when her mother visited our family when I was young. My mother prepared a wonderful meal of roast beef with all the fixin's and when her mother sat down she promptly said, "No gravy?" Well my mother was not happy as her loud rattling around in the kitchen indicated. But she did make gravy. I suppose I could have gone and bought some chocolate biscuits but I didn't.

So unfortunately I think her visit contributed to my illness (which Daniel also caught - negating weekend plans to go to Maine) and my subsequent eye problem.

Which leads me to my next point - I do not see as well with glasses as I do with contacts. I started wearing my glasses because with my contact lense, the infected eye became more irritated. Anyway, I almost feel like I've lost one of my senses completely with glasses on versus contacts as illustrated by the following examples:

• On my solo drive to Maine, instead of taking I-95 out of Boston I continued on I-93 a good 30 miles before I realized my error. Yikes. I am blaming my blurry eye and the anticipation of two days of freedom.

• On my solo drive to Maine, I didn't realize I had my EZ-Pass in the glove box as I cursed myself at each toll booth for forgetting it.

• On my drive home from Maine, I proceeded through one toll booth without paying and with my EZ Pass still in the glove box because the car infront of me appeared to go right thru. In hindsight I barely sighted a $1.00 sign as I cruised thru the booth. I am awaiting my summons from the Maine Turnpike Authority any day now.

• At my morning swim at URI, I somehow missed all the signs posted on the women's locker room re: using another locker room due to the lack of hot water. As a result, after swimming, I proceeded to the showers, scantily dressed, only to find real, live, men working on the plumbing. Whoops. I figured I was safe to change when the plumbers walked by saying something like "Oh I thought we were on the other side [of the locker room]."

• That same fateful day I dropped my sweatshirt on route to the parking lot without even a scant recollectiong of doing so.

With my compromised vision (yes my glasses are the up-to-date prescription) there's no telling what I might run into. And if you see me with my glasses on, please introduce yourself.

Willow Tree Chicken Salad

Where the magic happens - Mom's travel cosmetics.

Well her chicken salad is all gone and even though I just spent a good half hour shucking (is that the right word?) the two lobsters in the fridge and carefully cutting up and placing the meat for lobster salad in a container -- she cannot be distracted from Willow Tree. She'll need a sandwich on the plane Wednesday afterall.

So far during Mom's visit, we've found the sink running full-on in the middle of the night, the oven blaring away and have had to put up with the blatantly rude comments like "Those mussels didn't come from near a sewage outfall or anything" (addressed to the chef) when we took her out to dinner.

Yes she's getting old and more and more like her true self I guess. She's even a little fuzzy. "What are those round white things?" she asked referring to the green olives on a tray. "Why are you putting butter in with the olives?" she asked as I cut up cheese to place on the same tray. And while talking to me she said "I'll ask Gay to take me to CVS later." Hmmm. Not sure who she thought I was. And she didn't like my joke when I asked (in regard to the olives) if she was losing her mind.

What can I say? I would love to be that loving, all-patient daughter but I'm not and am reserved to the fact that she will need care someday from a non-family member who can love her like she deserves to be loved. I find myself getting defensive at the regular, negative comments and at the PASSIVE requests to take her on errands for the many things she forgot to bring. I was going to take a photo of the table that she has taken over with her cosmetics to give you an idea but cannot find the camera. No one could keep track of that many things.

Danimal update

• At the beach a few weeks ago - the last time the sun shone for any length of time by the way - Daniel asked a group of brothers three times if they needed help digging their hole. First they said no. Then they said not yet. And on his third try they relented. Another friendship was born and his brother Matthew joined in with the pals, who all played for a good hour or more.
• Outside the library: When he saw a woman smoking Daniel said, "That lady has only 20 more years to live. Besides it's not cool and it smells. I'm glad you don't smoke." Not sure where he picked up these messages but he's right on.

• We've met more and more people on our graveyard walks and the more people i.e. DOGS we meet, Daniel will say something like "Wasn't that the greatest walk ever!?"

Toto update

• On a weekend graveyard walk with the two dogs I literally turned around and Toto was gone. After circling, searching and calling for a good half hour (my throat was hoarse), Tia looked exhausted and I thought I better take her home. As I walked home and thought the kids will kill me, no one will believe me, that's our last dog for a while, and what will Toto's foster mom say, I finally arrived home literally dragging Tia along. And who did I find inside but Toto who had been home a good half hour. Our dog of two weeks has some kind of nose or brain and I am truly surprised this scardy cat didn't get hit by a car. Now I keep a much closer eye on him and him on me.

• One graveyard walk there were two very curly dogs and I was surprised to find out they were Portuguese Water Dogs. They looked too small to me. The owner explained that was because we've seen one dragging the First Lady around. Oh.

A dog's life

What a life.

• Our lives have have been consumed with Toto for the last week. Poor Tia. She basically ignores him though a couple of times on our graveyard walks - when Toto is engaged in rough play with another dog - she intervenes, almost like she is protecting him. Tia is definitely getting less attention because Toto can hear, follows everyone around, and wags his whole body when someone awakes or walks in his general direction. Poor Tia.

• From my point of view, Toto has blended right in with the family. He is now loose in the house at night with Tia and thus far we have had no episodes. He is basically trained with the electric fence though he did run thru it when Doug had the weedwacker going. He doesn't like loud noises - who does?

• I found out Toto can make some noise when he wants to when he found a snapping turtle in the graveyard. This is the most I've heard him bark since his arrival. The turtle snapped at Tia's nose, but she escaped. Daniel touched it's shell. We left well enough alone and haven't seen that old snapper since.

• Now I realize that as an unemployed person I have limited stuff to talk about with my husband at night and with you. I talk about the graveyard walks, who we met today, and what Toto did today. (He kicks out his feet in the grass after he poops, lie a real male dog.)

• So I hope I am not boring you too. This quiet life has become quietly fasicnating. I have been taking the dogs for walks daily - sometimes with Daniel and sometimes alone. Alone I met another unemployed person named Steve Rogers. How nice to have such a simple name. He asked me a couple times - and your name is? He's an architect and said there is another laid off person who walks her dog in the graveyard named Myrna. I'm sure our paths will cross. Hi I'm Mary Smith - it would be so simple. It is good to know, in a Schadenfreude kind of way, that there are other laid off people in my little world.

• Steve's dog was the first dog I've seen Toto really play with and he held his ground. He didn't roll over on his back like I thought he would. He proved to me he's a regular pup with other young dogs. You see at home, Tia basically ignores him, so I didn't know.

• Today, Daniel made his usual beeline for any sightings of humans/dogs and we met a new dog and owner. No names exchanged yet. This dog was rescued by a friend of hers from a listing on Craigslist. This beautiful Golden was left in a crate all day barking and going crazy. The owner said something about submissively urinating but I'm not sure what that means. Anyway this dog went from being crazed and afraid of almost anything - clouds for example, to a well behaved, friendly, gorgeous dog. Another reminder that people who really don't want or plan to take care of a dog, shouldn't get one. This gal Sadie was an Xmas present for the kids. Poor thing. Toto was running circles in the graveyard with Sadie and Tia joined in. Daniel loved watching his action.

• Good thing I'm still home unemployed (I start work July 1) because the strawberries are in and that involves daily picking. One pie, desserts with Cool Whip, frozen berries in the freezer awaiting something, and a giant bowlful on the counter awaiting perhaps another pie. Unlike store-bought berries, decisions about these berries' fate must be made within a day. Makes you wonder what do they gas the berries in the store with? Or soak them in?

• Mom comes for a visit on Wednesday and SOON Doug and I will be making daily trips to the Belmont Market for Willow Tree Chicken Salad. She's addicted to it and Doug was wondering how big a container he could buy. She'll eat a contractors bucketful in the week. More on this next time.

Toto has arrived!

What are you lookin' at?

After a week of anticipation, Toto finally arrived with much trepidation. He was truly scared when he was unloaded from the transport trailer. After a few days he's perked right up. We are training him on the electric fence and taking him for walks. Right after I got the choke collar, he was much improved on the leash. Cars scare him. Barking dogs scare him. The goats and pedestrians scare him. He easily could have died on walk one by being hit by a car - luckily his collar was on tight enough so he couldn't slip out.

Barbara, who we meeet on our graveyard walks, said "Who do you look at all day? They are both so cute - meaning Daniel and Toto." She also said (like everyone) "He is so cute" and "You must have fallen in love."

We all have, not so much because of the cuteness factor but because he is so darn affectionate. Though after this mornings walk he downright smells - unfortunately like feces. Perhaps it's time for his first bath, here.

All in all he's settled right in and hasn't peed or pooped in the house once. The only issue is the night time. On night one he cried so much in his crate that after 5 minutes I let him out and slept on the couch. On night two I put the crate in the basement and slept like a baby. On night three my son Matt woke me up to say Toto was crying. Yes he was and loud - even though the crate far away. He seemed fine in the morning and his foster mom said he cried for her too the first few nights. She brought the crate in her bedroom but I don't think that would go over too well here.

I am so tempted to just let him loose in the house at night and see what happens but his foster mom recommended NO.

Doug says the dog is very lucky but if you met him you would say we all are.

Toto is not my favorite name, but he responds to it

The garden is planted and the household projects I want to do for now are done. There really is an endless amount of things to do. I can think of a few off the top of my head – the interior window frames need painting, the trim outside looks like it needs painting (I don’t want to get on a ladder anyway), the dining room table needs stripping and finishing. But I think I’ve fallen in my old pattern of always needing to do something. Besides there’s plenty of regular maintenance work to do around here like washing, shopping, cooking and the like. And besides that we have a new dog coming tomorrow.

His name right now is Toto. It all happened quite suddenly. You see I spied him on-line and he had the right kind of hair that needs to be clipped (Doug is allergic). And he wasn’t too big. He weighs 28 pounds right now. To make a short story even shorter, I quickly applied and was quickly approved to adopt him. Unfortunately we’ve had to wait over a week for his arrival. But he’s coming tomorrow!

I am already anticipating all the effort that will have to go into his arrival and training. Mostly I need to train him on our electric fence and get him adjusted to our wake up schedule and his sleeping new arrangements. I plan to use a crate at first until we all get used to each other. It will be a bit of an effort to get him trained (or is this negative thinking?) to the fence. You see we can’t just let him out initially like we do with our dog Tia. The first person up will have to take him out on a leash for the first week or so and that will likely have to be me.

I seem to be thinking about all the work and training and not simply about the joy of a new dog. He sounds like a great dog from talking to his foster mom. AND perhaps if I just think things will go swimmingly they will.

More like this: He came home and it was like he has always been living here. I didn’t even have to use the crate because he slept on Tia’s bed with her right away. He didn’t pee in the house EVER and with the fence training flags out around the yard (he had an electric fence at his foster mom’s house) he knew he had to stay in the yard right away. He didn’t chew on thing. I never worried about leaving him alone – not once and he didn’t either because he had Tia’s company. What a good boy. He was definitely meant to be part of our family. If only babies were so easy.

The deck is all decked out

This deck was dirty about 5 minutes after painting

I know many of you have been waiting in great anticipation for my next update about painting the deck. Well today is your lucky day except for one small detail - Doug took the camera and I don't want to go rummaging thru Matthew's things to find his camera - so there will be no photo of the finished product until next time. I know you may be disappointed but you will have something to look forward to - a photo of the freshly painted, gray deck.

After all my cleaning (I didn't rent the power washer afterall), the sun finally came out about 10 days later and I painted it. The next day I touched up some spots and painted the top of the railing. Why only the top? That was about all the paint (it's actually stain) that I had left.

Well this deck is kind of like the story of my life these days. When I try to make something pretty, pristine, nice - it gets messed up almost immediately. Almost immediately after I thoroughly cleaned the deck, I noticed a huge muddy blob in the middle. Well in the process of all that washing, which involves water, the dirt under the deck became one giant mudhole and Tia the dog couldn't help herself. I know, I know - this is supposed to make me a flexible person and this is life. Just once, I would like to plant a garden, paint a wall, vacuum my car and have it stay clean and nice for a day. Just a day.

Shortly after painting the deck, I found Tia's muddy paw prints circling the deck. Somehow she had eluded the barrier I erected. Oh well.

With dogs, boys, and one man(husband) around I realize my dreams of pristine are almost impossible. A friend who has obviously done more reading about children than I have said, "Boys always want to change their environment." (Dogs might fit in there too.) In other words, boys want to alter everything almost all the time. Case in point, Daniel found a chicken egg on our walk this morning. A nearby chicken or goose must have laid it in the graveyard. Well, what would you want to do with an egg if you were a boy? Smash it of course. So that he did right on someone's headstone. The vibrant yellow yolk dripping down the grains of granite.

Change, change, change. If there is a new car that is freshly vacuumed a boy will get it filthy in a matter of seconds after soccer practice. (By the way, Matt told me cars get dirty and I'd have to get over it. I told him I wasn't there yet, but almost. )If there's a sand castle on the beach, a boy will smash it almost immediately. If there are toys orderly organized in the garage cubbies, a boy will scatter them all over the yard. If there is a mud puddle, a boy will smear the mud all over the pavement. If there is bare, flat ground - a boy will dig a hole. You get the idea.

Speaking of holes, this is a classic. I took Matt and Daniel to the beach on Memorial Day after the chorus of 'there's nothing to do' resulted in the idea for a beach trip. After playing with his brother for a while and starved for human companionship other than the familiar, Daniel came up with the classic pick up line. Upon spying a grandpa and boy digging a hole, he went up to them and said, "Excuse me, but do you need some help digging that hole?" He proceeded to pick up one of their shovels and join right in. I can't help but think he will so bold as to approach bikini-clad women when he's older with a similar line. "Excuse me, but you look like you could use some help with that lotion."

I will wind down this entry today with my AWESOME news, not necessarily in any particular order. We are getting a new dog!! and I got a great job. I just come right out and say it: It's $55K and I work out of my home dealing with small water and wastewater systems. It just felt like it was meant to be and I feel completely grateful to the universe. There wasn't even a job interview - it was a conversation over lunch. My boss had wine.

I am determined to enjoy this job and do a great job. Wish me luck. I start July 1 but still get my 2 weeks at the beach in August!! I am also determined to keep my sanity and keep up with writing the blog. Thanks for reading.

Next time: Toto arrives and how it all came to pass.

The fall from grace

I like to think of myself as a pretty coordinated person but the fall couldn't have been pretty. Though I didn't actually see it I felt it and that feeling was utter helplessness.

After dutifully preparing the dog's dinner, I proceeded to carry her bowl outside and down the ramp. My feet slid out from under me and my elbows, head, ankles (somehow) all hit the deck very hard. To add insult to injury, the dog food was spilled all over my hair. (My head ached so much the next day or two - I couldn't even rest it on the headrest in the car.)

I know what you are thinking. Why didn't she just call the dog and feed her inside or up on the deck. The dog can no longer hear well at all and we have to go find her at feeding time.

After the fall, I lay momentarily stunned and then rolled off the bottom of the ramp to the grass where I cried. My body hurt. I actually was imobilized due to the pain. Also, I was feeling sorry for myself. No one apparently heard the crash. Thus no one rushed to my rescue.

I told the story to a few people for sympathy and got a little. The black marks on my elbows are slowly fading and you bet your bottom dollar I won't go out in my socks again.

My friend Nan said if I died out there someone would have noticed when the dog started bringing in body parts. Very funny. I think someone might have noticed when I wasn't around to cook dinner. We're hungry, where's Mom?

More deck news
The latest project is painting the deck and though I wanted to rent a power washer because I thought it would be fun, I also realize renting things costs money. And since I am not working, I relied on bleach powder, bleach, a scrub brush on a handle and the hose. I will take a picture for you of the finished project.

Just back from the graveyard walk and I met a nice lady with a cocker spaniel with all sorts of problems - according to her. Bad breeding means he's deaf at age seven and has lots of allergies. He kept rubbing his butt on the ground. But he has a sweet personality and that counts for alot.

Blog bog due to puppy search
I keep getting diverted on the computer looking for puppies. AND yes Doug was about to kill me but also relieved. When you start a sentence "I have to confess" and you were only looking at dogs on the Internet, well, things could be worse.

Anyway the nice lady in the graveyard with the Wickford sweatshirt said I could find a Labradoodle or poodle mix on-line. So we'll see. She also wondered why she hadn't seen me before. You see all the graveyard dog walkers know each other. I told her we had an elderly dog who recently died but couldn't walk when alive, I was recently layed off, and now I am walking the remaining dog again.

When I was explaining to her that I thought poodles where weird she was not judgemental in the least but rather said something like "It's good to know what you like." Yes it is. Yes it is. It's also good to know what you want and I want to get another dog/puppy. Help.

The fall

Next time: How I proceeded to fall down this dog ramp, hit my head, elbows, ankles, and spill dog food all over my hair. I could have died, and no one would notice.

Walks and rambles: Whores in the graveyard

Today is Daniel’s last day of “school” until fall. I will be with him all summer as well as the other two boys when school gets out in a month or so.

We’ve fallen into our routine but he reminded me yesterday “We’re not going to go on a walk everyday when I’m home.” It’s been really fun – he rides his bike and I walk the dog. Yesterday, he made a literal beeline and changed our route to follow a real-live human (other than me). He caught up to the woman on his bike and started chatting away. It turns out we’ve seen her around – she works in the bookstore in town and has a HUGE yellow lab. This lab is twice as wide as our Tia and consequently we found out Ruby also weights twice as much. We also found out the bookstore in the “mall” isn’t doing too well and people keep telling her “I hope you don’t close.” And she tells them “Come in and buy some books.” The books haven’t been selling and they are hoping things pick up for summer.

As we were exiting the graveyard Daniel found more humans by the goats. He talked to the little girl who gave his some grass for the goats. She told him they like grass and yes, they do bite. He gave her a “lucky” penny that I found on the walk.

I seem to find coins almost daily when I am out walking. And in my excitement and surprise say something like “Look what I found.” Then of course Daniel says, “Can I have it.” And I give it to him hoping the universe will reward me in the future. Plus, we are not talking a lot of money here . . .

After that it was off to the Dollar Tree store – which by the way is filled with crap from China. It’s way WORSE than Job Lot, if you haven’t been, you actually don’t need to bother. But Daniel had $2.50 burning a hole in his pocket and had that money spent in about ten seconds. In fact, right inside the door he deposited those coins for a gum ball and a necklace (if you could call it that). That left $2 for two items – but he forgot about the tax and I ponied up 14 cents. He kept the change – I see a theme here.

Other funny things happened in the last day or two:

Michael didn’t know he was going to the state track meet and didn’t bring his clothes to school, so consequently he ran in his pants. He has actually done this before. And Doug told him he could probably take seconds off his time just by the simple act of wearing shorts. Anyway, I told him if he was an Indian boy he would have acquired the name “The Boy who runs in khakis” or “The Boy who runs in chinos” by now.

Doug brought his exercise ball to work to sit on and he left the house extra early so co-workers wouldn’t see him pumping it up. He said he lasted about 1.5 hours on the ball – because it’s tiring and takes work. I wondered if he would still feel like he was moving at the end of the day – like when you’ve been on a boat all day. He was lying up in bed at 5:00 p.m. and I wondered if that exercise ball had done tired him out.

We met a man in the graveyard on Monday who fed Tia biscuits. And he said he finds lots of whores in the graveyard . . . well I didn’t realize what he was talking about for a minute or so and was picturing high school students getting it on in the bushes but what he meant was he has biscuits for all the dogs. He is very friendly but wears a very bad hairpiece and I can see where those acquired the RUG moniker. I could see a heavy seam and stitching where a part would be.

I’ve been recording music and really got a little lazy regarding some of the more difficult guitar parts. I asked my producer/professional musician friend to fix a couple parts – the album is almost ready! Let it breathe. Anyway, he was having difficulty and told me I have a quirky way of playing, almost like my own dialect. So, he was having great difficulty matching my guitar parts. I guess being unique has its plusses and minuses.

I just wrote this excellent, bluesy, fun song – She got so skinny, her teeth look big (I want some meat on the bone). Coming soon!

Who likes kid behavior?

Well, we ran into an acquaintance, but now I’ll call her a friend, at a local bar. No we are not bar rats but do go out on occaision, especially after our weekly mixed doubles league. Anyway, this acquaintance from almost 20 years ago and I have crossed paths over the years – we had a friend in common. She works in town at the chocolate store, so I see her around holidays when I am buying chocolate for distant relatives. Sweenor’s will even mail the chocolate for you if you want.

At the bar that night, somehow the topic of kids came up. She doesn’t have any and doesn’t want any – she may be too old anyway. That’s fine I told her, people who don’t want kids shouldn’t have kids because it’s the thing to do. But her real reason for not having kids wasn’t necessarily philosophical – she just didn’t like them or to clarify, she said she didn’t like kid behavior. Though she added, obviously she was a kid once herself. Weren’t we all, weren’t we all.

I didn’t comment at the time, but I wondered if anyone likes, enjoys, relishes bratty kid behavior. Not me. And my five-year-old knows exactly when he can get away with it and he turns it on in these moments to draw attention to himself. If grandma and I are talking, he’ll continuously interrupt or pull on my arm because he knows I don’t want to get too strict with him in front of grandma. When coaching his soccer team, he will pout and cry or even sit out when he knows I really can’t focus on him with 10 other children to manage.

So, new friend I don’t think anyone really likes kid behavior, though there are some awfully cute moments to balance out the bad ones. People have children partially because it’s what we’re programmed to do, partially because society dictates it.

Personally, I do feel a great sense of accomplishment and pride when I look at my children. They test you and push you to your limits like nothing else.

Growing up, I never thought about children and never even discussed it with my husband to be. After marriage, we decided to try and after a very difficult birth, had two more children. Why? I don’t exactly know.

But there’s no turning back now. And the thing about kid behavior, you can keep it to a minimum with discipline. Ever watched Super Nanny? The other thing is children do grow up and out of kid behavior. I was a girl once . . . I know.

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It took about six weeks or so but I am definitely settling into this unemployment thing – except when I look at my checkbook balance. But it’s all good. I have accomplished a lot including numerous household projects I wouldn’t have batted an eye at while working. My anger over the layoff has dissipated and I have the luxury to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life.

Oh there’s lots I want to do. Get in a writing group. Take sailing lessons. Learn to knit. Get a PhD in something. Improve my tennis and musical skills. But alas there is only so much time and only so many nights I can be out due to family considerations.

You see family comes first. And I know that. These boys are growing like weeds and when I have too much time on my hands I can learn to knit and sail and be in one of those writing groups with other little old ladies.

I can also start a rock band called The Grandmas. We will all wear colorful, Chuck Taylor high tops and have the time of our lives.

Seriously, I have some time to do things now and some money but I feel needed at home.

A woman I was chatting with at a soccer game recently said she always felt when she had time, she had no money to do anything and when she had no time, she had money. Kinda makes sense.
Wouldn’t it be great to do whatever you want, when you want. That’s my goal, within reason.

Once this unemployment fades, I would love to have a job with enough money and enough flexibility to keep me happy.

Perks of working at a newspaper

It’s ironic, no?, that I had just written a column about all the perks of working at a newspaper (though it was never published) and a week or so later I was unceremoniously laid off.

The perk column went something like this:

You certainly don’t work at a newspaper for the pay but there are a number of perks that people may not be aware of. For instance, it’s the only place I’ve worked where you can legitimately read the newspaper at work. And you will not get scolded for this. You have to read other people’s newspapers to see what stories you might have missed and you have to read your own newspaper to make sure everything came out error-free.

If you like children, the newspaper can be a rewarding place to work. I say this because co-workers would often bring their children into work – because they don’t get paid enough to afford a babysitter. While the kids could be a bit of a distraction I think it was really because they were bored out of their minds and needed something constructive to do. Actually, combining the enterprises of a newspaper and a daycare might bring in some much-needed profits, while at the same time the youngsters could learn a trade at a young age. I know for example at my paper we hadn’t had a copy editor since the dark ages. Children could be trained for this job as well as selling advertisements and soliciting subscriptions. Who could say no to a kid?

Another unexpected perk of working at the paper was that I had my very own ant farm right under my desk. I am not kidding. There was a trail of ten or so ants that would come out from the cracks in the linoleum – probably searching for my muffin crumbs. I will miss them and they will miss me. Somebody please feed them.

Furthermore, when I worked at the paper I didn’t suffer from car envy and in fact I didn’t have to think about getting a new car at all. Though my car was over 12 years old, starting to rust, and sometimes smoky, it was by far not the worst car sitting in the newspaper parking lot. I could put my car envy aside and get some use out of that old clunker a little longer.

But seriously, one of the biggest perks of working at the paper was that I was rarely if ever bored. You certainly can’t say that about every job. It was also the only place I’ve worked where you could use humor on a regular basis. Humorous columns, humorous editorials, humorous headlines – you get the idea. Likewise, I will miss my witty co-workers.

But these perks all pale in comparison to the best and greatest perk of all of working at a newspaper – they laid me off. I am now free of the tyranny – the tyranny of the continuous piling on and on of more and more duties until the editor is downright worn into the ground and dies. Another laid off editor said the industry would have killed me. I was lucky to get out.

Now it’s hard to feel lucky when you get laid off and people tell me things happen for a reason. What that reason is I may never know but I do know this has left me wondering if anyone other than the ants will notice that I am gone.

Will I be missed?

When I told my neighbor that I was starting a blog he immediately asked me if there was any money in that. No. But then again you never know. Hey I have to occupy myself somehow and have a regular outlet for my writing now that am I fully encapsulated in the life of an unemployed mom. And I know people have noticed my absence from the travel lanes. I used to regularly cross paths with one friend at the swimming pool for my 7 a.m. swim. One morning I showed up early again (my husband covered kid duty) and he immediately asked me “Where have you been?” I explained that I was laid off, I was O.K. with that, and I was still coming to the pool, albeit later. So now he knows why he doesn’t see me anymore. He said I kept wondering “Where that girl went.” You see this is why I love him – I am 43 afterall.

But I used to walk to work. Do the crossing guards notice my absence? I bet they do but they are not calling me a girl. Instead they are wondering where that middle aged lady is who used to walk to work with her red bag. I should take that route too one day before school lets out to say hello to my three acquaintances and let them know why they don’t see me anymore. Or do they care? In any event, it might inspire a column or blog entry or both.

Yes my life has gotten simpler but it’s amazing how you fill the time. Now I have time to get the donuts for Michael’s spring breakfast. Now I have time to go look for the clothes he left after the track meet (and I found them in a mushy pile under the bleachers). Now I have time to swing by the library and drop off the kid’s books - daily. I have time but it’s a strange thing – at times I feel my time is as occupied as before and at times I feel a sense of loneliness when I am home by myself. I guess I’m still adjusting to the unemployed status.

And I’d love to make some cash. People keep suggesting freelance writing so perhaps I’ll have to get back into that.

There are some significant painting chores I can take on if this soggy weather ever dries out – the front porch, the back deck, and numerous window frames.

There are squirrels to deal with. Yes squirrels. After hoeing and planting a full row of peas, I saw the squirrel out there the next day. When I went to investigate – I found holes all along my row. Damn that squirrel. Makes me wonder about the futility of planting the big old garden out back. The varmits have numbers and I am only one. But my husband Doug is talking about getting a pellet gun.

Yes, my world has gotten smaller. My haunts are the library, the pool, and the car for picking up children. I had The Devil Wears Prada on my return pile and my five-year-old son asked me if he had seen it. When I said no, he asked if he could. It’s for older people. “Does it have kissing in it,” he wondered. A little bit. He said he thought he was ready for that. Hmmm.

Sprucing up the house

Oh yes. Besides working on my tan and my tennis game I am tacking household chores full throttle. And I don’t mean ordinary, everyday woman chores. I mean handywoman chores. In the past few weeks I have successfully caulked around the tubs (harder than it sounds), lowered a curtain rod, painted the walls around newly installed windows, and most recently painted the front porch. Yes. I felt so proud of myself because it looks damn good and I am learning new skills. I even said to my husband maybe for my next job I’ll be a handywoman.

First off, I had to clean the porch with bleach powder and lots of elbow grease. Next I applied a bleach solution that I let sit for a day and then I rinsed it off. I bought myself a big old stain brush and stained away. It looks so good I have to go get some white trim paint and touch that up too.

Next I will tackle the back deck. Now I wanted to paint the window frames (we bought new windows a while back) but my husband seemed very leary about my ability. He had primed them and I only had to paint one side. He wasn’t ready to let me paint those but when I suggested we do it together he seemed more eager. So it’s the back deck for now and I see a power washer in my future. The neighbor has one so I might ask to borrow it or I might just rent one. See new skills. I’ve already read that you don’t want to set the pressure too high or the wood will ‘fuzz.’ You can paint over stain but you can’t stain over paint. Makes sense. So speaking of extra cash – if anyone out there needs their deck or porch painted or stained, I’m your gal. And I’ll give you a good rate if you pay me in cash.

The day I painted the porch – I was also on Daniel duty. Are you ready for some action? Besides a couple hours for painting, our day involved a bike ride/walk (the dog and I walked), a trip to the playground/library, tennis, a trip to the paint store, a lunch stop at Subway, and baseball in the backyard. When he asked for me to take him swimming, I said another day this week. He and I were both a little tired and I slept well that night.
In fact, the next day I was even a little sore.

All this activity may be my answer to losing ten pounds. I can discipline myself somewhat eating-wise to lose a little weight but I am better at ramping up the activity. As one of Daniel’s daycare teachers said, “You will be in the best shape of your life.”

I should take a before and after picture – before with desk job and after spending four months with the boys. It could be dramatic.