Nakedness

As of this writing Miss Brin is still one wheel less. I haven't ventured out to secure a wheel, tube, and tire for Miss Brin because my mom has an acquaintance. Mom told me her acquaintance had bike parts; lots and lots of bike parts. She further told me that said acquaintance would be happy to check his bike parts stash and if he located the parts I (and Brin) needed he'd give them to me (us). 

I asked mom if acquaintance only had parts; did he have whole bikes? For I'm considering a new (used) bike as well. "No," she said, "only parts." 

Well, after week one acquaintance relayed to my mom that he didn't have time to look for the parts but he would get someone to help him. 

Now, two weeks later, acquaintance relayed to my mom that he doesn't have the wheel but we does have a ladies 10 speed to give away. I ask my mom if it is a racer, mountain, or what? She doesn't know and wondered what's the diff? 

I won't get into the intricacies of that conversation with my mom but know that it ended with me accepting with graciousness whatever the brand, model, condition this entire bike (that he didn't have two weeks ago) he now has to offer. Best case: with some modifications I can ride it. Second best case: daughter can ride it. Third best case: I can raid it for parts, or sell it, or give it away to someone else.

The downside to Brin being one wheel less these past weeks is that she missed the most recent installment of the Naked Bike Ride. She was most disappointed. 

Maybe next year. 

Wait, What Happened To Wednesday?

The evening leaked away from me. The plan? Come home, shower, get into softer clothes, fix a plate of whatever delectable delight my lovely daughter prepared, eat, drink a beer (or two) watch So You Think You Can Dance? brush my teeth, read, write a letter (or in my journal) click on something to watch until my eyelids could no longer defy gravity.

Well, the eyelids no longer defying gravity happened much earlier in the evening than planned and as a result a few things got missed. It is probable that sudden sleep after eat and a bit (12 oz) of drink i but one consequence of many thousand steps.

From my pedometer's memory bank:
Day 1 10,566
Day 2 13,807
Day 3 18,398
Day 4  0 (I'd forgotten to wear it, but based on my own memory of what happened this day, at least 10,000)
Day 5 10,342

The work days these days are filled with frantic, frustrating, mind numbing tasks, negative cash flow bullet dodging, primal screams in my head, calm, diplomatic voice, compromising, deal making, take me away, Gill's reply to my email: "Oh Deb, you crack me up!"  and Isabel apologizing for the confussion (meaning: confusion)  in her previous email (which, in my state of chocolate milk induced delirium cracked me up) and the wish for a partridge in a pear tree.

And just think in a few more hours I get to do it all over again. Thursday's fun house games? Compliance and possibly Tech Support.  Oh. Happy. Day.

But that is tomorrow and I must file that away and get down to enjoying what is left of this night. I must allow the warm water shower to massage the webs from my mind and creakiness from my body and trust that will be enough to force another sudden (dreamless) sleeping spell that will last throughout the night.

Six AM arrives quickly and I must, simply must get UP by six if I have any hope at all at getting to work by eight. I told them I would. They will be waiting. I do so hate to keep anyone waiting.

The Cats, The Dog, and The Text

It is another Tuesday, this one marking the end of another month another ahhhh November. November is a month full of the frenzy of clearing out after Halloween if that is your thing and getting ready for "the holidays." Not just Thanksgiving, or even primarily Thanksgiving but the BiG one.

The first day of winter.

Ok no, not that. The other big one.

Well, actually December is full of big celebratory days, events, and observances. BiG Talk about frenzy.

But, for now as November ebbs away I take this moment to delight in arriving home to find one cat in the dog's bed, the other cat in my bed, and the dog in a cat bed. And about a text message from my daughter:

Man, Michael was super stoked when I explained to him that there was more Thanksgiving in the freezer. hahahahahaha I could use some stuffin.

Today and everyday thankful for the gift of life they all bring to my life.

The Best Thing

. . . about the first work day following a four day holiday weekend is coming home to a full on quiet space. Only the sound of rain smattering the windows, the wind rattling the wood panes (in the back) and diva dog's intermittent barking stemming from occasional ghost sightings (must be ghosts as I sure don't see what has her all riled up) pierces the quiet.

Pete has draped himself across the cable box in my bedroom, Buttah is flat on his back, legs akimbo atop my bed, and Diamond, now all done with the ghost chasing is munching on a piece of carrot. The relative peacefulness won't last too much longer, however, I am thankful for it here and now.

I shall go embrace and see to packing some of that peaceful spirit in my knapsack to aid with the Tuesday work-a-day noises.

Peace.

Another Friday Saturday Night

One extra big bonus to holiday weekends is the extra day. On this, my second Saturday was an easy, slow going kind of day. The air was the cold but the skies were clear. There was some outside time (after a laze about morning with the sometimes pesky, sometimes lovable Orange Boy) with the Diva aka Diamond. She had to change out of her holiday dress for the outdoors for she has either lost a lot of weight or the dress is just ill fitting without all her hair. I have my money on the latter. In either case she suffered wore the outfit with the grace befitting her diva-hood.

It is another Saturday night and my downstairs neighbor has been out drinking. He's home now, fighting with his front door, upsetting the Diva. She'd like to skip downstairs and give him a piece of her mind for keeping up all that racket. I'm sure. He'll settle down in a bit. As will she. And then we'll pop some corn, pop a disc in the DVD player, and ease our way into another Sunday morning.

Thankful for blue skies, bonus days, popcorn, the Diva dog, and "The Wizard of Oz".

"Begone before someone drops a house on you."

Well, Now

Everything was humming along just fine, according to plan. The greens were done and so too was the dressing. The ham had only minutes to go, the turkey much longer. D was beginning prep for her cupcakes and spinach artichoke dip. I was beginning the prep for the macaroni and cheese and thinking about how to serve, where to stage.

Something felt off. Something was off . . . the oven. Oh, damn.

Trying to get the beast working for the next hour or so, thoughts ranging from schlepping the turkey to mom's (who isn't answering her phone) to finish roasting or scratching turkey from the menu and making due with what is done or can be completed on the stove top and many more in between ran through my mind.

Thanks the luck of the Irish the oven worked (enough) to get everything done. And according to all diners it was all good.

Thanksgiving 2010 will be remembered as the one when grandma arrived on time (unaware of the oven debacle as it will forever be called) as she wasn't home when I called and hadn't gone home prior to arriving promptly at the previously planned 2 p.m. start time. We will recall going to the Amana website, looking for a manual for our aged stove/oven calling an 800 number in hopes of getting a miracle answer to what daughter describes as, "her worst nightmare." We will recount the giddiness felt when the familiar "whoosh" signaled, "all systems go" even if brief. We hoped for the best, prepared for something less.

It all worked out. The oven is, for the most part, kaput. But, dinner is done, we all had fun and now there is wine, rest, and a bit later, sweet potato pie with whipped cream, sprinkled with a bit of cinnamon.

I am thankful for my daughter's laughter, her boyfriend's presence, my son's healthy appetite, my mother's critical jabs (for really? they make me stronger--and she doesn't mean me any harm, it is just her way), being a lucky Irish woman on this day and many more. And while I am extremely thankful for the bounty that was our meal table, I would have been just as thankful peanut butter and jelly so long as I was surrounded the loves of my life.

'Twas the Night Before . . .

All day long and now into the night memories have popped into my head, stories out of my mouth. The kids got into the spirit and began sharing tales of days gone by as well as notable moments from today.

And so on this day (every day, really) with the aromas of part of tomorrow's dinner wafting through our space, I am thankful for memories and for the joyous times I've had with my son and daughter.

I am ever grateful that they are here and we are lucky to spend another day, eating, talking, and laughing together.

Here's to making more memories.

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all.

Longest Tuesday

Since I can never remember which channel Comc*st / Xf*nity has assigned to The Weather one of my first early morning rituals is to grab my phone (device, whatever) and check the weather; cloudy, sunny, or any part thereof, and the temperature.

Monday morning? 60. THIS morning? 30.

And shortly afterward, Pete sneezed three times.

Then the day was full of the usual workday routines, frustrations, and more but many moments plodded like an interminable clog. It's the short week syndrome. It's like having two Mondays. Oh. The. Horror.

I know you're asking, "Well then, Miss Deborah, what the blazes are you thankful for today?"

Well today it is chocolate. Today was a two chocolate bar day, thankyouverymuch.

And later, beer. THANKyouverymuch.

And since this IS a short week, Wednesday is Friday!! Which,thanks to good advice and great musical inspiration, I know now, how to act.

Monday, Monday

Hard pressed to find something to be thankful about today, well, except for the whole being alive thing. And for my son, daughter, mom (and other family) and pets. And . . . ok, not so hard pressed.

But, it was a difficult day made more so by the rain. Oh. The. Rain.

However, thankfully, (so far) my area has escaped the worst of it and though my feet, ankles, shins, knees (and the fabric covering them) were soaked through and through, I was nearly home when the squishing began in earnest.

Now I am dry, re-dressed in warm lounge-wear. I am about to devour a steaming bowl of chicken and rice soup. And later I will pop some corn and hunker down to a warm, peaceful rest of the night.

Many thanks.

Cornucopia of Thanks

Thankful . . .

• for a sunshiny day.
• for mom's gracious gift of food (and most importantly, shopping)
• for daughter's breakfast treat.
• for comfy shoes.
• for that crazy cat.
• for bullet points.
• for being closer rather than farther from home when a nail flattened the bike's rear tire.

. . . to be continued. . .

Too Easy

. . . to be thankful for Friday. It's Friday, for cripes sake! But truth be told these last several Fridays have been somewhat blah. Well, not that the Fridays have been blah. It is more that I've been blah about the Fridays.

The Fridays were doing their level best to stir my interest but, very little interest was to be had. Fridays were nothing more than a beacon, signaling the end of a long week and the all too short respite before the next long week begins.

I came dangerously close to dreading Fridays.

Then a friend and email titled, "It's Friday So Act Like It Dammit!" and so I did. And so I am.

I am oh so thankful for this day, Friday. And oh so very thankful for friends in general and that friend in particlar.

Wednesday Thursday Thanks

Orange boy vomited on my bed today and while that doesn't play as a thankful item, I am thankful that 1. daughter was home and 2. was thoughtful enough to remove the soiled sheets.


And given that Wednesday was somehow skipped over, I am doubly thankful that I completed winterizing mom's apartment before the days and nights became too much colder.

Thanks On A Tuesday

'tis all quiet except for the occasional tingle of Buttah's collar and he saunters and then leaps to his bowl, the click clack of Diamond's nails as she scampers across the living room chasing her well worn soccer ball toy, and Pete's mews as the tries to rescue the map hanging by my desk from the frame that houses it.

Thankful for the quiet and relative peacefulness of the scenes.

Today, I Am Thankful

. . . my associate's safe return and getting back into the ease of all things routine.

And laughter.

Giving Thanks

for e.
Hot dogs are not in my top ten (or even 20) but now and again I get a hankering. Said, hankering calls for a Chicago style dog, celery salt, poppyseed bun, and sport peppers included. Though, I can do without the putrid green relish. Icky-poo. Hi-ever, add some kick-ass fries and aaahhh hankering satisfied, till the next time.

Onward to the giving thanks moment: I am thankful for the raffle that netted me a gift card to a hipster coffee / sandwich shop, where I scored a roast beef on rye, mustard, tomato, pepper jack cheese, cucumber, and a side of blue cheese potato salad. Lunch was lip smacking, mood altering, delish.

Month of Giving Thanks

Mom has given us (me, son, and daughter) our Thanksgiving cards. She handed them to me last weekend while I was at her place, winterizing. She asked me to hold on to them. I asked why? And she replied, "because it is so early."

Well, without going into the back and forth we had over this, let me just say, I didn't hold on to the cards. I gave them theirs, opened mine.

And in the spirit of giving thanks, often (if not daily) this (if not every) month, without further delay:

1. I am thankful for my mother. 2. I am thankful for words. 3. I am thankful for a warm snap. 4. I am thankful for the two cats trading spaces on my bed. 5. I am thankful the dog requires assistance to get on the bed. 6. I am thankful for sport peppers. 7. I am thankful for crayons. 8. And speaking of mothers . . .yeah, thankful. 9. I am thankful for my BP thingy.
10. I am thankful for cocoa butter 11. I am thankful for and give thanks to the men and women who served honorably, admirably.

And as it will soon be the twelve day of this month, 12: thanks to my adult children My daughter went shopping and while she didn't get milk, she did get bananas. My son rocked his audition and was feeling excellent on his way to dinner, then rehearsal. He called to share his glee. Thanks, y'all are the best!

. . . to be continued.

Most Mornings

Most mornings I have myself together enough to walk (or ride the bike) the five or so blocks to the train going in to work.

Most mornings I prefer the walk over the riding as the walk affords the opportunity to gaze at the splendor of the trees.

This time of year most of the trees still have their leaves and most are still green. But there are a few that sport leaves in various stages of greens, yellows, and oranges.

Most mornings (of late) have been sun shiny bright and when that light shines on the multiple colored trees many more hues appear . . . splendiferous!

Most mornings while soaking in the splendor of the trees, many thoughts like a co-worker becoming a friend, a daughter's recovery, a son's excitement over current and future projects, and more cross my mind.

What I try to avoid thinking about is how few of these crisp, bright, splendiferous mornings we have left.

Most mornings I succeed.

For The Record

The idea of drinkable yogurt is slightly repulsive to me. I can hardly eat traditional (American) yogurt due to texture issues. When I do partake I prefer the addition nuts or granola.

I am a fan of Greek yogurt, though I haven't tried the brand given two thumbs up by eb and qm. I will be seeking it out. I've already discovered my nearest local grocer doesn't carry that brand, but I'm sure I can find it in the city or at one of the larger stores in town.

And yes, I realize this post had nothing at all to do with Buttah, I just love that look on his face. He shares such a look, pose with me at least twice a day. I don't know what's on his mind. Heh, it could be yogurt.

Oh, For The Love of Ivy

A couple (maybe three) weeks back I made mention of some kind of weekly feature. Well, it didn't happen, not really. So there. . . . this was going somewhere, I know not where, now.

Anyhooo...

Margaret called today. Margaret is a vendor representative. Margaret got me reaching, screaming really, for the end of the day at 10:00 a.m. Margaret repeated herself repeatedly. Even after I made it perfectly clear that I understood. I got it, her company screwed up, my company was harmed (a bit) by that screw-up, she thought she fixed it, but didn't, and is trying to fix it now. I'm not mad, just fix it, move on, and GET OFF THE PHONE. I got IT 45 sentences ago.

Moving on . . .

Can you read and walk at the same time? Not billboards, street signs, and the like. But the screen of your device (a phone is no longer a phone, don'tcha know) for instance. For that matter, can you walk and manipulate your device at the same time?

I can't. I have to stop moving. Not always to read, but certainly to type. I'm not annoyed that I can't, I'm annoyed that those who can and who do don't watch where they are going and as such are annoying as they tend to walk erratically thus creating a need for creative sidwalk navigation.

How annoying is it when folks have music, pod casts, or whatever playing from their device on the bus or train and they don't even bother with the headphones, ear buds, whatev; never mind the inadequate private listening devices, but to eschew them altogether?

Yeah, that annoying.

On the positive tip, today is my Friday.

YaY.

And Oh, BTW

1. Just to clarify, I wasn't riding my bike when I wrote of the traffic scare. I don't ride in the winter, into fall maybe as long as the conditions are favorable, but not winter. Biting winds, snow, and ice aside, I just don't have the gumption to fight those elements and a-hole drivers. Being a pedestrian is trying enough.

2. I think I must have Spidey sense when it comes to cat puke. I hardly ever step in it, which of course means I've just sealed my fate and I will suddenly start finding all the puke with my feet first.

3. Buttah is the more prolific puker. Just thought you'd like to know.

4. The here-to-fore missing partner to the other pair of leg warmers has been located. I wasn't overly concerned as I had a pretty good idea where it was hiding, it was more a matter of getting down to the bottom of the hampered laundry. Still, happy dance ensues.

5. Mom asked, "how's your social life . . . going?"

6. I do not recall ever, ever before hearing that question from her before. And speaking of, it's going . . . slow. Which is fine as there is other stuff going on now filling up the days. By night, I'm pretty spent. Still, I'm doing the meet-ups, have had some pretty dandy ones of late and a few prospective dandy ones on tap.

7. I signed on to a number of groups, only a few of which have fairly regular activities planned. Schedule, dollars, and location dictate which activity I can manage participation. None (so far) have netted any dating prospects, but then I'm avoiding the singles meet-ups, or rather I have avoided them. I may be ready for those sooner rather than too much later.

8. And speaking of, I'm not much for the what are you looking for? conversation, revelation. I mean, I know in terms of qualities in a woman that appeal to me and I know the conversation must be had, but . . .

9. Anyhoo . . . Buttah puked on my bed a couple weeks ago. That was a first and hopefully a last, though I won't bet on it. And yes, I saw the puke before I felt the puke. And speaking of Buttah, my wake-up call was mister bumble buns knocking over the remnants of the night-capping beverage.

10. End of random update.

And oh, by the way, the pic of my leg feels like a first, but I don't think it is. Maybe.