Another Week In Review

I spent 2 1/2 glorious days last week up at Peninsula State Park, catching up with old friends and soaking in the scenery. It was just glorious weather and the lilacs were rioting. The puppy adapted quickly to tent living, and with several other dogs in the group she had lots of positive role models and lots of play time. It really was a situation that just couldn't be beat. And though I hated to leave when I did, I had the consolation of knowing that the weather turned beastly cold and rainy as soon as I was out the park gate.

But I had to get home for the first day of Farmer's Market on Saturday, and it was just brutal. Cold, with threatening rain that turned out to not to be a bluff, and accompanied by the chaos that one would expect for the first attempt of the season. I was late, and my set-up didn't go smoothly, and although there was a surprising volume of customers (given the weather and the lack of actual produce this early in the season) I barely made enough to justify my efforts. When it started raining at 11:00, I packed it in despite the disapproving looks from my fellow vendors.

Luckily, Sunday's graduation events were all indoors and my baby made it across the stage without a hitch. There were a lot of misty eyes when she and the other graduates were recognized in church that morning, but the graduation itself was strangely anticlimactic; perhaps because college is looming so large in her future, and we have the strong sense that this is just another milestone towards a still distant goal.

Along with the big events, we've had a few smaller incidents this week. Somehow a (presumably mother) squirrel and her compatriots got into the roof overhanging our front porch, and from there worked their way into the kitchen soffit and the kitchen/master bath wall. We could tell that one squirrel had fallen down into a gap between a pair of studs and was trying to climb out over the weekend. Rick got into the bathroom ceiling and fished a rope down between the studs, hoping the squirrel would climb up and then get out - which may or may not have worked, since the sounds in that part of the wall were gone by Monday or so. And meanwhile, he applied some tinfoil to the trim piece they'd been climbing up to access the overhang, hoping they'd slide down and be unable to get back up. But by Tuesday or so there was more scratching and carrying on in another section of the wall, and we eventually gave up on the rope concept in favor a low, discrete hole through the sheet rock.

This little guy seemed almost too young to be away from his mother, and despite Rick's best efforts with a warming lamp and eyedroppers of preemie puppy milk, he didn't make it. The whole thing is a shame, but I'm secretly relieved we didn't end up adding a pet squirrel to the menagerie. Instead, I acquired 8 Auracanus chicks from a friend and am incubating them in the same glass cage recently occupied by the squirrel.

Most of them will go to Cousin Kate in a few weeks - but there's a dark chocolate chick with a certain air about him who reminds me a bit of our recently deceased Rudy. I'm not sure what the little guy's name is just yet, but he's probably male and he's definitely staying.

Paging the Magic Elves

Oh, my . . . where do I start?
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Well, you know how they say bad things come in 3's? Well, Sunday of Memorial Day weekend my elderly next door neighbor hired someone to work on her yard. That someone foolishly and irresponsibly brought with her a springer/beagle bitch in heat, who immediately took off for my property line and killed Rudy, my longtime companion and all-around favorite rooster.

He was such a handsome boy, full of personality and as social as can be. I was VERY upset, especially since the dog's owner seemed absolutely thoughtless about the whole thing and had been so casual about letting her dog run wild like that. In the end I gave the sheriff a tour of Rudy's last moments and then sent him over to have a talk with her about personal responsibility for one's animals and destruction of "property." Then I dug a grave, which was NOT what I had hoped to be doing on Memorial Day.

The next day (Monday) I had planned to do some weed-whacking, and since our machine is crotchety at best we decided to get a fresh batch of gas/oil to feed it. I wanted to dispose of the bit left over from last fall in as safe and conscientious a way as I could, so I thought I'd burn it with some brush in the fire pit. WHOOSH! crackle crackle crackle . . . . It's a good thing I had my hair back in a knot and my sunglasses on, because the fumes lit in one big ball of flame that caught a bit of my hair on fire!! I'm okay, but it could have been much worse. Suffice to say I won't be burning anything else for a while.

Tuesday I bit into a Mentos candy and broke a tooth. A friend of mine commented that "my planets must be crashing into each other." Wednesday my dentist said that I'd need a crown, but I'd already used up my dental insurance benefits for the year - so I either needed to wait until January or cough up an extra grand. Thursday I played it safe, mostly staying home with a therapeutic pint of Haagen Dasz Green Tea Ice Cream. (Notice how the nutritional information is artfully covered by the cap.) And Friday, I had my previously scheduled root canal on another tooth, which will need its own cap in a few weeks. It still hurts.

Meanwhile, Rick took all of last week off in an effort to get our 1978 VW van in fit condition for a camping trip this week. He was truly heroic with his efforts, but we made the command decision last night that with an untried engine, a suspicious (if small) oil leak, and a battery that may have an internal short, it just wasn't wise for me to take the beast on a solo trip to the very northeastern tip of Wisconsin. Pity - it would have been SUCH a cool thing to do. But instead, I'll be packing up a tent and a cot for the big Peninsula State Park 100th anniversary gathering starting on Wednesday.
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Before then, I need to put the house in order for the guests arriving this weekend. (This would be where the magic elves come in. If you see any, please send them over.) I also need to finish post-processing on the family portrait session I did on Saturday at the lake, and teach on Tuesday, and practice violin before my Wednesday lesson, and get a fresh blog ready for one of my clients, and put together a "trade booth" set-up for an event I've been invited to attend on Tuesday evening. Blogging purely for my own pleasure seems a little decadent just now, but I'll try to post van photos and some other updates before I leave town Wednesday afternoon.

Wet Cuffs on My Pajamas

It's cooler and rainy this morning, but before getting ready for school I just had to check out the lilacs blooming outside my bathroom window. These are bushes that I picked out a few years ago from the lilac thicket on the other end of our land, and painfully lugged over to plant next to the house. They are an unending source of pleasure when they are in bloom.




And so long as I was out there, I did a quick inspection of some other early blossoms.



Oh, and that second scarf blank is hung up for the last stages of drying. I mixed a fair amount of metallic gold in with the greens and browns and bronzes, but so far the scarf still reminds me a bit of something an Ewok would wear. We'll see.

New Neighbors and Carl's Award

I picked up this birdhouse a while back at Goodwill because it was cute, and because I wanted to hang something on that porch hook that would not shrivel if it didn't receive daily watering and attention all summer long. It didn't occur to me that it would actually go into use - I figured it was strictly decorative. Apparently the little brown bird twittering happily from inside didn't get the memo. And from the look of it, he also forgot to measure the door frame before trying to move in the "furniture."

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It must be the season for such things, because I've also got two hens (the white one I bought last spring and one of her daughters) industriously incubating eggs. It seems I'm going to have a pile of chicks on my hands in about 5 weeks, most of which will probably have to be given away. Actually, one of my older brown hens went missing about the same time, probably to incubate her own batch of eggs in some little corner of the field or woods. The chances are not great that she will survive 6 weeks without nightly predator protection, but I've had independent-thinking hens beat those odds before. We'll see if we get any Father's Day surprises.

Meanwhile, I took a trip over the weekend up to Green Bay to see Carl receive his award for driving 100,000 miles without incident. The event included a tasty buffet (even by vegetarian standards), and the chance to get to know a really nice group of people. I have always been convinced that truckers are some of the nicest, friendliest people around. This crowd certainly proved the point; our dining companions were a husband and wife pair who drove truck for the pleasure of being paid to explore the continent in what might have been their retirement years, after careers as an engineer (her) and businessman (him). I never did get my hands on the adorable baby two tables over, but had the pleasure of sitting down to chat with one of the trainers and the driver manager after the event itself was over. (In true Carl fashion, we were the last ones out the door, and there were still plenty of stories being saved for next time.)

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I have to say that I was also impressed with the company itself. Gordon

Trucking seems to hold its drivers and its safety record in equally high regard, and the younger Mr. Gordon himself had flown in from the West Coast to personally congratulate Carl and the others on their performance.

Carl walked away with a gold tie tack and a clipboard inscribed with his accomplishment. Others in the crowd were being celebrated for higher accident-free mileage milestones - you got an embroidered jacket for 250,000 miles, and I saw a very snazzy watch which the owner had earned for his impressive safety record. The guy with the 4,000,000 accident free miles wasn't there, so I don't know what he got; but Carl was looking carefully at that list of milestones and calculating what it would take to get him to the top of the list someday.

Catching Up

Today was a busy day - among other things, I rescued an unwanted blueberry bush from a dairy farmer friend and planted it alongside my Mother's Day blueberry twig from Luc. I have killed a fairly broad assortment of small and large fruit producing flora, but am willing to try again. (On the other hand, the arctic apricot bushes look pretty good, even though Rick ran over the Southernmost one - twice - with the mower a few years ago. And I notice the gooseberries and currents are looking enthusiastic already. Maybe someday they'll grow something besides leaves?)

I did a whole lot of other stuff today as well. I'm not sure why I can't make a nice tidy list of it, since I felt as though I was relatively productive. And despite my best intentions, I got nowhere near my violin, my knitting or even my laundry. But rain is forecasted for the next several days, so I did at least get in a 2 mile walk with the dog.

When we got home, her bed was occupied. The cat believes that this is the proper and natural order of things.

A Fistful of Dandelions

Yesterday, Tasha told me tersely that Mother's Day was a "Hallmark Holiday" and that she didn't intend to recognize it. Today, I was called to teach second grade and an 8 year old admirer brought me a gift.

Thanks, kid. They're beautiful.

Signs of Spring

It's been raining hard here the last several days, and the results are really starting to show. Not only did I spot the first dandelions of the season this morning, but I have hyacinths in bloom! (Okay, so I had grape hyacinths and crocus already, but those always feel like the pre-show.) Between the hyacinth and the masses of forsythia in bloom and the soft green smell of a recent rain on a temperate afternoon, the air smells wonderful outside. Also, the chives are doing their best to take over the world - I should probably get some peat pots and transplant them now, in preparation for farmer's market in June.
Luna would still prefer snow, all things considered. But I've been putting her on a long line and "lunging" her in the field, so she's getting even more exercise as the weather warms. And she's getting so good with her commands!! Her latest tricks are to dance (balance on her hind feet and bounce around a bit) and to say hello (actually, hold out her paw to shake). I was considering teaching her to roll over or at least lay on her back with her paws straight up in a "play dead" pose, but the kitchen floor is a bit hard for that one. Maybe we'll work on it a bit more once the grass is less soggy.

And finally, it wouldn't be spring without the Prom. Tasha's last high school dance . . . yet another rite of passage as she progresses towards adulthood. I can't believe my baby is going to be 18 in a few days!

We spent some time today planning her high school graduation party, which will be held in mid-July at one of the park shelters in Falls. She's already got an enormous menu planned, and is figuring out exactly which kinds of streamers she wants and how many extra tables we'll need to show off the certificates and mementos of her high school career. Personally, I'm not very good at planning parties, so although her notes look fairly intimidating, I'm willing to follow her lead on this. (Um, within reason.)

Hello, World

I've been thinking of you . . . and this is starting to be one of those blog entries I was not going to do - the ones where I talk about feeling guilty for not blogging. Not going there.

I can report that I only have 15 individual lace leaves to go before the Anniversary Shawl is finished. I'm in Michigan just now, preparing to visit Cousin Christy's first grade class and then Great-Aunt Mary's funeral. And as a bonus, I'll get to wish Austin happy birthday just a little late, and say hello to the rest of the Michigan crew during this bittersweet event. I may even get to blog more extensively, if I can make my fingers understand the difference between my ergo keyboard and Christy's laptop. (The wine probably isn't helping.)

Meanwhile, Spring - or a reasonable facsimile thereof - has blessed us with a few warm days, and the chickens are extremely grateful.

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Back to School

I got a call around lunch time on Wednesday from a local high school, asking how fast I could get there to sub for a teacher who was going home sick. I got there pretty fast (in spite of somehow locking my keys in my car), and taught computer applications and a couple variations on shop for the rest of the afternoon. There was a note from the regular shop teacher restricting subs from using or allowing use of the power tools, which was a shame because they had some pretty neat stuff. And so (as often happens when I sub), I put the provided video into the machine, discouraged the students from sleeping too openly, and got out my knitting. Theoretically I made a whole $35, but I've set up my pay at the school so that most of what I make goes directly to taxes. (I'm hoping this will go at least a little way to counterbalance the taxes not being paid while I'm on the dole.) But even setting aside the stupendous amounts of cash paid to substitute teachers, it's kinda just fun to do.


I really like teenagers. There were 3 half-hearted Mohawks in my first class, which cracked me up, so I broke the ice talking about how interesting it was to see such classic haircuts coming back and about a guy back in the day with a blue 4" Mohawk waxed into spikes. During the welding segment we talked restoring muscle cars - or rather, they did, and then I countered with stories about VWs. And after the 8th graders saw the the video about airplanes from the "extreme machines" series, I told them about C-130 gunships and how they get knocked sideways 10' in the air every time the big gun goes off. (One of the kids suggested that would be a good evasive maneuver for a mid-air collision. I told him I didn't think that was quite the purpose the designers had in mind.)


They want me to come back Tuesday and teach math for a day. That should be fun.

Are We Getting Tired of Socks Yet?

I finished the very last pair of the originally conceived set of Christmas socks - the equivalent of a "Ladies Small" in tones of electric blue for Parker, whose feet are growing quickly. (I'm trying to remember how old Luc was during the period when his sneakers would fit my size 9 feet. Eleven or 12, maybe? In any case, Parker is not that far off.) I still have a prayer shawl going, and the Arizona socks; but I think I'm about to make myself promise not to work on any other projects until I finish that last stretch of leaf lace for the long-neglected anniversary shawl. I mean, if I don't have time now, then I am never going to have time. There are no excuses left.

And I did swing down to the City yesterday, and was very well behaved about my wallet. It really is a great city, especially for anyone who likes architecture . . . or summer concerts . . . or an interesting variety of little places to eat . . . or sculpture. *

I used to love working there, and the commute is not that bad compared to many places. Sure, a 45 minute drive to work is a bit more of a drag than the 7 minute commute I enjoyed more recently, but it's still workable and pretty reasonable. (No, I'm not talking myself into anything; I'm just adjusting my mindset and level of expectations. Now hush.)

* In the interests of full disclosure, you should know that the image of the "Tall Grass" sculpture is not my work.

Cutting the Cord but Staying Connected

Well, I have completed the process of becoming unemployed. I had some separation anxiety about the office, and Dan had to remind me that at a certain point (now upon us), it just really isn't my problem anymore. Still, I found myself automatically checking the lot as I drove past the building today, analyzing whether my [former] boss was present and whether any clients might be there for meetings or whatever. I made myself very directly responsible for the smooth running of that office, from technology issues on down to properly salted sidewalks, and it's going to take some time for me to internalize my current status. But on Friday, over the weekend, and again today, people who care about me have been reaching out - just touching base to make sure I'm doing okay and to offer support. You guys know who you are, and I really love you all.

Meanwhile, I delivered Farmer Luke's socks to his mom on Sunday, and I think they will be appreciated. The sock she'd given me for sizing purposes at the beginning of this project had been hand knitted, and an unfortunate hole resulted in a dropped stitch which caused a run all the way up the foot. She seemed pleased to hear that with the felted socks a hole would just be a hole, not the beginning of a disastrous experiment in entropy. And they were relatively easy to adjust from the basic pattern; I just added 4 extra stitches and 4 extra rows around the calf area, narrowing down to 2 extra stitches and 2 extra rows in the foot.

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And so, I launched into my new budget and plan for life today. I spent 30 minutes on the exercise bike this morning (after spending 15 minutes unburying the silly thing), and later took the dog on a 45-minute hike along the dunes and shore. I'm budgeting time for chores and personal and professional development, and I'm also allocating time for things like knitting (although I didn't get to do any today) and naps in the winter sunshine with the cats. We'll see how it goes.

Deus Ex Machina (or not)

If you're an English Major (or read a certain Isaac Asimov story repeatedly at an impressionable age), you've familiar with the term deus ex machina. It means, more or less, automatic miracle: the cowboys are huddled in the back of a shack riddled with bullet holes, with the crooked sheriff and his bloodthirsty mob of a posse about to set fire to the building - when a flying saucer darts out of the sky unexpectedly, stunning the bad guys with its ray gun and beaming the good guys to safety. Completely unexpected, more than a bit implausible, and having the effect of fixing problems in a way which is not particularly sensitive to the flow of the story.

So anyway, our hero (that would be me) is faced with a challenge: she is about to lose her job, is inevitably concerned about the change in circumstances and income, and is presented with a series of challenges and options. She worries. She considers. She does some math. She frets. She makes some inquiries. Suddenly, she gets a call from a local law firm! Two attorneys have contacted them, singing her praises and insisting that she must be hired! They want to meet her, and when they do, the interview goes great! Her worries are unfounded and she's going to walk into a new position without a hiccup, and possibly even a raise! And then . . . the letter comes to say they've hired someone "more suited to their immediate needs." It seems that nobody is going to swoop unexpectedly out of the heavens and rescue me dramatically from my current situation; instead, I'm going to have to deal with it myself.

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I did what most people would do in my situation - I ate some chocolate. And then I took my camera for a walk.

Meanwhile, I very much enjoyed the "We Are One" concert on Sunday, even if I did think the structure of the Tom Hanks piece was a bit odd. Bettye La Vette and Jon Bon Jovi's duet of the old Sam Cooke tune, A Change Is Gonna Come, was fabulous. And I was extremely moved by the inauguration ceremony itself - which probably means that I am excessively empathetic, since (as a white girl from the burbs who has never worried about being limited by her racial background) it's not like I had a huge private stake in the election of an African-American president. But I will always and forever be moved to tears by the sight of large crowds waving flags and singing patriotic music, or by the grandeur of our political process (when uncorrupted).

I like Obama. I hope he does well. He's got a long, hard row to hoe, but he has the support of a strong partner in Michelle, and a wave of positive emotion from the general public the likes of which I've never seen before. And he seems to be making some good first steps.

Aren't You Jealous?

Remember Farmer Luke and his need for size 12 socks? Well, his mom dropped this off at my office today:
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Not one, but two pies. Apple (because nothing says "Inauguration Day" like apple pie) and raspberry (because we're all about diversity).

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I love the barter system.

A Notable Day

I have to confess that when the kids got the day off from school on Thursday due to the extreme cold, I was a little jealous. But even when little kiddies (or big ones) should not be standing outside waiting for buses, law firms remain open. And so with jumper cables in back (just in case), I headed south for an interview in Milwaukee.

I parked in the street about 2 blocks from the building, which seemed quite reasonable until I had to get out and actually walk those two blocks. It wasn't uncomfortable; it was painful. No, literally. I was really wondering about the possibility of frostbite on the tops of my ears and kicking myself for being too fashionable for a hat. (Although, honestly, who wants to do an interview with hat hair?) The interview was very pleasant and included a cup of tea, but the walk back to the car later was almost as bad. I can't decide whether my sunglasses were a good thing, blocking some of the wind from my face, or a bad thing, conducting cold more efficiently to the bridge of my nose.

Elizabeth had suggested that I visit the Milwaukee Public Market for lunch, with its sushi and oysters on the half shell and kickin' Indian food. The place had been under construction when I last worked downtown, so I'd never had the chance to explore it. Unfortunately, Garmin failed me - my GPS insisted that the market was in a parking garage that turned out to be another 2 1/2 blocks from the actual location. Once again I decided to walk rather than trying to move the car closer, and once again I regretted it. This time, the tops of my ears were definitely starting to go numb and I seriously considered ducking into a few establishments on the way up the street purely for reasons of safety. Come think of it, I was probably still quite chilled from my trip back to the car from the office, exacerbating the whole situation.



I did make it, though, and I could see why the Market would be a lovely incentive (in warmer weather) to working downtown. It reminded me of the market in LA which Julie, Tasha & I visited - the one where James Dean had his breakfast on the day he died. Thief Wines bears closer investigation, and my falafel sandwich was just right. I took home some inari and a half-dozen cunningly wrapped blue point sliders with fresh horseradish for dinner, and had some chips of candied ginger as a treat. I even have some barbecued salmon and dolmehs for lunch on Friday! (Tasha asked mournfully if I'd brought home any "normal" food?)

Later, I picked up the last copy in stock of the Prayer Shawl Companion book at Borders so I could present it as a gift to the library at Moon Beach in February. I couldn't resist showing the clerk the page with my pattern and photo, and we both giggled a bit about how "cool" that was. And I topped my "hunter/gatherer" efforts off with a visit to a second-hand clothing store, where I found an absolutely fabulous vintage winter dress coat that Pat Nixon would have been proud to wear. Red wool with flecks, very warm, and cut generously enough to comfortably accommodate all the extra layers this weather calls for. It even matches my extra-warm "candy cane wool" hat, the one I made with the left-overs from Christy's hat. True, this is not a coat for featuring one's curves in a fetching manner; but it's funky and warm and I like it.


Going back to the interview - once again, I see these people as pleasant to work with and the position as viable. It's wonderful to feel hopeful and even have the potential for choices. We'll just have to see how it all pans out.

Brrrr

Kinda says it all, doesn't it?

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At least we finally got a load of propane delivered yesterday. School is cancelled due to the cold, so the kids will lie around the house safe and sound like slugs. And even though the chickens appear to be doing fine, I won't go down to the coop until mid-afternoon to minimize the heat-loss impact of opening the door.

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We'll endure . . . but not for too many years more, I think. And I reserve the right to complain about it.

At Least Someone Is Enjoying It

That little retirement spot in the Ozarks is looking better and better these days. It was 14° below zero when I let the puppy out this morning, although we've at least moved into the positive numbers now that the sun is up. I was worried about the chickens with their single heating bulb, but the girls looked fine this morning and even provided me with 3 (unfrozen) eggs. And my morning fight with Tasha consisted of her plans to go sliding with her friends after school, and my assertion that it was too dangerously cold to do so. (I think I won. I'll know for sure later, I guess.)

I'm making the puppy wear a sweater outside, since she still has a shaved belly from her spay two weeks ago. She thinks it's a bit ridiculous that she's not being allowed to chew on this thing which clearly must be a toy; but once she gets outside, she's so delighted to run circles around me on the long leash and just generally act silly, the sweater becomes inconsequential to her.

Do Be Careful

Sybil has been our neighbor for as long as we've been at the Stone Jug. She's a tiny little thing, a former career girl (professional skater and dental hygienist) who never married and has no close family. The neighbors across the street do a very nice job of keeping an eye out for her, but we try to keep aware of her status as well.

Her property is 27 acres of primarily woodlands which had a starring role as the location for our vows renewal ceremony in 2007. Her house is tucked into a hollow just below ours and a bit further back into the trees, which means that she has a bear of a driveway in the winter. She's also reached that point in her life when a broken bone can be a very serious thing indeed.

She called this morning to ask if she could park her car in our drive for a few days? The ice on her drive has gotten so bad that if she can get her car out, she doesn't want to take a chance putting it back. I asked how she would get home, then? She says the hired man tromped a pretty good path through the snow the other day, and she'd just walk in his footsteps through the woods from our house to hers. I asked if she at least had a cell phone, in case she should fall? It seems she had one, but can't seem to figure out how to charge it. So, she'd just go carefully.

I popped down there before work, sliding my car a good 4 feet on the way down her drive, and dropped off Tasha's discarded cell phone. It's mostly charged, and even though it's turned off it will still dial 911. And I did manage to get my car back out of there by putting my all-wheel drive into the very lowest gear and creeping up the left edge of the drive, where my wheels could dig into the snow a bit. She has the same model car, so she should be able to manage it.

Sybil (though I know you will never read this), it's lovely that you want to spend as much of your senior years as possible in the little valley of your dreams. But it does seem increasingly dangerous for you to live alone. Please, please don't fall in your driveway (or ours).

(sigh)

I'm upset again. It's work stuff, so I can't talk about it here, even if it is sucking my freaking soul away in little bitty pieces.
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Ahem. Anyway, so go look at something pretty instead.
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A scene from the trestle bridge in Shelburne Falls, from my 2004 New England visit. This is just down the mountain from Heath, where my Dad had his farm and where Reinhold Niebuhr wrote the Serenity Prayer during his summer vacation.

God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Amen.

Better, Thanks

Christmas was fine - I'll tell you all about it another time. We made it through the cantata, had a lovely time on the day itself opening presents and playing games as a family group while modeling the tissue crowns from our English "Christmas Crackers," and never set foot outside the entire day. Everyone liked their presents, the puppy was accident-free the entire day, and everyone got along great.

I found out about Wednesday that I was preaching on Sunday, and since this was a significantly shorter lead time than normal I sweated over the sermon on Christmas night and some more on Saturday afternoon. Still, it was completed and well received, and Dad (who previewed it for me) thought it was my best work yet. The text was that part of Luke 2 where Mary & Joseph pack up, go home, and get on with life, and my main theme centered on extending the Christmas spirit into everyday things.

But last night and this morning, peace and harmony did NOT reign in my household, as teenaged emotions and limit-testing behavior suddenly ramped up to a new high. Rick and I spent much of the night grinding our teeth and self-critiquing our abilities as parents and partners, and the residual dissatisfaction did nothing to pump my enthusiasm for another day at the office. Still, I popped out at lunch to see Pam at the salon and get my haircut, which has done wonders for my mood. It seems Pam had a major blow-up with her family this weekend, too - which not only reassures me that my situation is normal, but lets me feel that at least it's not as bad as hers. Then I got the pampering which always comes with a haircut, and we dreamed together some more about how my photography, her salon and her Mary Kay sideline could be combined to our mutual benefit. We're thinking of starting a weight loss club, with the monthly fees split 50/50 with the biggest loser at the end of the year. And 2010 calendars, with each month featuring one of our make-overs from 2009. And then we hugged, and made plans to continue making plans.

That, combined with a tuna melt and a strawberry milk, seem to have done the trick. Maybe I can deal with all this nonsense after all.

Thanks, Pam!

A Christmas Party

Last Friday, we got a pile of snow. That's beginning to sound awfully redundant, kind of like "Yesterday, the sun rose." But we did indeed get a very large, intimidating amount of snow, which meant the schools and most offices (including mine) were closed. This was probably the main reason I was able to get as far as I did on my list, although I did go in to the office for a little bit myself. (I only sighted 6 vehicles during the entire journey from house to office - and one of those was in the ditch, while another one was a police car.)
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Still, the church had scheduled a "Lock In" fundraiser for Friday night at the middle school, and after a lot of concerned phone calls decided to go ahead with it. I was on duty at the bracelet-making table in the crafts section and had already stabbed myself twice with the springy Memory Wire we were using for the bracelets when Rick called from the airport to say that his truck was dead. He wanted me to come pick him up in Milwaukee, which was complicated not only by the weather but by the 90-odd kids hurtling down the halls and demanding the right to make bracelets, have their hair braided, play dodge ball, have another hot dog, and make another bracelet. By the time I got someone to cover my bracelet-making duties and dropped off some materials I'd promised my boss, my cell phone had run out of power. I decided to stop at the house and plug it in for a few minutes to find out which lot Rick was in at the airport, and found out just in time that he'd rented a car and driven himself home, thus saving me at least 2 hours of driving on snow-covered highways late at night. So instead we shoveled the driveway together (by hand), and agreed once more that this whole winter thing was getting old. Then I went back into the house and knitted another whole pair of socks before heading to bed.
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I'd intended to head out early on Saturday for Michigan, but I needed to finish up some photo work that I'd absolutely promised a friend would be delivered before I left town. And then there was the whole packing thing. And one of those self-inflicted wire pokes from the Lock In had become infected, with the index finger of my dominant hand becoming more red, sore and swollen by the moment, so I had to fit in a trip to the urgent care and to K-Mart to fill my antibiotic prescription. (Remember my little adventure with the pitchfork back in the summer of 2007? Apparently I can be taught.) It was almost noon and I really was starting to panic, when Christy assured me that she owned a washing machine and that I could felt all those socks at her place instead of spending another hour over them here. And so I was off.
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It was snowing in Chicago, and a few other places along the way. I'd been invited to stop at my sister-in-law's family home while I was in town, to say hello to everyone and see the nephews an extra time. I was in a panic about running late and thereby screwing up my hosts' dinner plans, but I was not the last guest to arrive and I have to say that Tom has raised the practice of catching, filleting, and frying up fish to a fine art. That was the best perch I've had in a long time! And any time with nephews is a wonderful time, by definition.
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I got to Christy's condo by about 9:00 that night, making a total of 6 of us in residence. There didn't seem to be a point to going to a hotel just then, so we stayed up way too late telling stories and enjoying each others' company. (I took pictures, but they are really, really awful. Could have been the result of several late nights in a row, or the stuff we were sipping on. But no one would thank me for posting them - trust me.) At midnight, we got Christy to don a tiara with "Happy Birthday" spelled out in glitter and we sang to her before she opened a gift. It was a good night.
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On Sunday, we had a genuine blizzard. Church services were cancelled, there was a major pile-up on the freeway, and there was even some question of whether some of the family from up north would make it to the party. Uncle Gordon was definitely looking a little frazzled when he got there, and Kate's crew drove with her folks for safety. But all was well. Bill was a real trouper, out there shoveling the walk as best he could in the crosswinds. Christy and her roommate did a really fabulous job planning the whole event, from getting the use of the party room and decorating it to providing a really wonderful soup and some cheesy artichoke dip that couldn't be beat. And with mother nature giving us her worst, on the shortest, darkest day of the year, 19 of us gathered in the warmth and shared soup and bread and treats and just generally enjoyed the blessing of family.






Kate and her crew were staying over on Sunday night, and it seemed reasonable for me to use that hotel reservation I'd skipped the night before. I made it through the blizzard to Hampton Inn with Lydia in tow, only to discover that they were filled to the gills due to the storm and hazardous traveling conditions. I have to say, they couldn't have handled it better - they were apologetic and pleasant in the face of what had to be a crazy night for them, and sent me a 1/4 mile down the road to an even nicer room, the cost of which was on them. And they even supplied us with hot chocolate and snacks for our trip, which certainly made Lydia happy.
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On Monday, I had one more chance to see the nephews as Don and his crew joined us at the hotel for a swim. I popped back by Christy's condo to drop off Lydia and say my goodbyes, then picked up Julie for a quick solo trip to the local yarn store. (There was a clearance basket. It is now significantly more empty. I figure that after the free hotel room, I was entitled to a little indulgence.)
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I planned to leave the area by mid-afternoon, but due to some misadventures trying to buy a relatively simple thing from three different big box stores I didn't hit the highway until nearly dark. I just about slid off the ramp as soon as I got on it, but the weather cleared up once I got around the tip of Lake Michigan and I was home safe and sound by bedtime. My own personal nest of chaos - I still can't believe Rick didn't notice when he co-opted my silk-dying workspace for Tasha's school project that he set his electrical drill, shards of wire and sandpaper down on silk scarves! Not to mention the propane torch equipment casually set up next to my dye pots. But in the end, all is well.