A Week Ago, Yesterday

My maternity leave started at the end of January. The hope was to have a month to prepare for the delivery expected at the end of February. About 5:00 a.m. the morning of the 8th, it was clear I wouldn’t get that month.

The pains started around 3 a.m. My husband was getting ready for work, trying not to wake me, not knowing that I was already awake. The pains high and wide, radiating over and around the top portion of my body, were not acute enough to mention, but insistent enough to keep me awake and uncomfortable. I let him leave without a word about what I was experiencing.

I initially thought I was experiencing was a severe attack of gas.

A couple of hours of tossing, turning, trips to the bathroom, marked with more frequent and acutely painful episodes, I began to prepare for my trip to the hospital, for it was clear, this was not gas. My only hope now, was that the pains would subside enough to delay the ambulance call. I didn’t want to ride to the hospital in the dark. I don’t know why this was important to me, but it was.

Though this was my first labor and I was alone, I didn’t feel anxious or afraid. I felt determined to wait for daybreak. I like to believe my relative calm kept the pains at bay. More likely, I was just lucky.

I made the call at first light. The ambulance arrived about 10 minutes later. The ride to the hospital took 6 or 7 minutes. I’d called my mother and husband during the 10 minute wait, instructing them to join me at the hospital.

My mother appeared while I was still in the labor room, staying behind while they wheeled me to the delivery room some time later.

Once in the delivery room, the doctor and nurses seemed to ignore me, scattering about the room attending to various things. After a few moments I started screaming, “The baby’s coming, it’s coming, NOW!!” several times over. As one, they arrived at my side in time to catch the baby just as it plopped out of me.

In my mind’s eye it was a very close call, but in actuality, not.

The birth of a male child for 10:04 A.M.

Twenty-seven years, one week ago, yesterday.

pictured: the birthday man and his little sister following a celebratory brunch

Chillin Cat

Me and Buttah are completely simpatico these days. He is quite often doing exactly what I'm feeling.

My most favorite of his moves is when he's sauntering about and then suddenly he's splayed over the floor as if every bone in his body decided to melt, dropping him on the spot.

Thankfully I'm not walking behind him at these times as this melting and melding to the floor comes without any warning.

The Quaint Scent

Before I start, thank you all for the kind words.

An upstairs neighbor has a teen daughter. As memory serves, where there is a teen girl, you'll likely find a teen boy.

Teen daughter is not allowed to entertain her teen boy friend in the upstairs neighbor's apartment when mom is away, or at all for all I know.

Thus, the entertaining has been taking place in the vestibule, daily when school is in session, timed to assure full entertainment before mom arrives home. Well, as full as a public vestibule will allow.

They are often still entertaining when I arrive home.

I had forgotten the oh so ripe scent of teen boy. A teen boy right after school, practice, flirting, cuddling with teen girl in vestibule.

Getthemailquick. Getthemailquick. Getthemailquick.

Oh, boy.

A Different Chill In My Bones

The brand new parka offers no defense. The many layers of clothing are not helping much either. The sneaking suspicion is not even the higher temps forecast for the coming weekend are going do little to warm me. I can’t shake the chill.

Movement, maybe keeping busy will help.

The chill started a couple days ago. Beginning with, “Sweetie, sorry . . .”

It continued, “I care deeply about you and always will, but . . .”

Everything after but, became a blur including, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Chill settled in around my shoulders and hasn't released me.

I’ve read and re-read the missive and those that followed. I’ve talked with Neta and it’s clear she doesn’t want or rather, can’t be in an intimate, romantic relationship any longer. I have no choice but to accept her decision.

We have talked and will talk more. We will try to forge ahead with a friendship. We may become much better friends than we were lovers, or rather the lovers we were growing to become.
In our time together, given that we were 500 miles apart, there were many things that we hadn’t done as a couple. We’d had the opportunity to celebrate only a few “firsts” in our nearly two years.

There were many more “firsts” penciled on my list. Saying, “Neta was my girlfriend” wasn’t one of them. Thinking of and referring to Neta as my former girlfriend will be, surreal.

Maybe more hot tea will help this chill, though I rather doubt that it will.

Four Hundred and Sixty (C)

You remember four hundred and sixty, now A. Then there was four hundred and sixty (B).

Today I'm having . . . feelings. Get hooked on a feeling.

Four Hundred and Sixty (B)

Remember some days ago, the post titled 460? Turns out, post 460 was not really post 460. There were two drafts and drafts count in the total, so, this is post 460B (460 being re-named 460A) and then we’ll have post 460C, thus will end the 460 cycle.

I saw this here, at Sassy's, her place and surprisingly, here. I’m sure it’s been elsewhere too, as these things tend to get around. I’m participating because I needed to round out the 460s and killing time between the SuPeR commercials. So, I give you, Getting to Know More of MeMe:

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought? I thought my daughter was right about my eyebrows.
2. How much cash do you have on you? Oh, I don’t know, probably about 5 singles and maybe 8 quarters.
3. What’s a word that rhymes with Door? Floor. Cracked, ack!
4. Favorite planet? I never gave it a thought, hmmm…Jupiter, I guess.
5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone? Probably my daughter’s boyfriend, but I’m sure she was using his phone.
6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone? Whatever it is the daughter downloaded, having deemed whatever stock tone I was using, dorky.
7. What shirt are you wearing? Well, these days it’s shirts. A black tank and a black tee emblazoned with: Pessimism Never Works
8. Do you label yourself? 100 % human made material
9. Name the brand of shoes you’re currently wearing? Lands End clogs.
10. Bright or dark room? Bright. Even at night, even for sleeping, I prefer some light over pitch darkness.
11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you? I saw it in 4 places and I think all 4 women are smart and bold, each in their own unique and quite entertaining ways.
12. What does your watch look like? Though I don’t wear it much anymore, it’s black with a fabric band and digital face that scrolls. People have said, “cool watch” but it has begun to irritate, so I don’t wear it much. There are clocks everywhere.
13. What were you doing at midnight last night? Odd, but sleeping. Odd because until about 3 weeks ago, sleeping did not come very easily for me. But recently? Better. Good, that.
14. What did your last text message received on your cell say? “Mom, um ddog is 20 lbs!!!She went up not down!
15. Where is your nearest 7-11? Sheeeesh, we’re stinky with them here. Near home base, the nearest is about 4 blocks west. Near work, there about 4 within a mile radius, that I’ve come across, so far.
16. What is a word that you say a lot? Hello
17. Who told you he/she loved you last? Neta
18. Last furry thing you touched? Diamond. Or Buttah. They vie equally for attention.
19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days? A multi-vitamin and a very small dose water pill for hypertension comprise my daily intake. Now and again a headache will get bad enough to move me to a pain reliever. That’s it. Ever.
20. How many rolls of file do you need developed? Need? No rolls, but I do intend to print a shot or two from a memory card to send to N.
21. Favorite age you have been so far? I like right now, though I think it will only get better. Especially when a certain aunt stops visiting.
22. Your worst enemy? Distance
23. What is your current desktop picture? a pic of son and daughter.
24. What was the last thing you said to someone? Karma’s a biiiitch!
25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be? Is this a trick question? Show Me The Money!!!
26. Do you like someone? As a matter of fact, yes.
27. What is the last song you listened to? “Make Yours A Happy Home”
28. What time of day were you born? 11:50 A.M. It was a Saturday.
29. Favorite number? Well, I don’t really have one, but if I were, it would probably be 3 as the number 3 has been part of my address (home & work) and phone numbers for the past 25, 26 years or so. Despite having moved (home & work (once) several times in that time period.
30. Where did you live in 1987? Illinois, in a suburb of Chicago on a street by the same name.
31. Are you jealous of anyone? Well, no one in particular. I do tend envy those folks who don’t battle weighty issues.
32. Is anyone jealous of you? I doubt it.
33. Where were you when 9/11 happened? Home and then work.
34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money? Depends. If food product or beverage, I chalk it up to fate and thank it for doing me a favor, for clearly I didn’t need whatever I was trying to purchase. If a washer/dryer at the laundry, I go to the attendant to ask for a refund. If there isn’t an attendant I say, “shit” and stomp off to find some quarters, somewhere.
35. Do you consider yourself kind? Sure, I’d like to think so anyway. I'm sure there are times when I don't react kindly.
36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be? Had to?Why would I have to get a tattoo? If I had to, it would be on my right shoulder. But, ain’t happenin’ cap'n.
37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be? Oooooh may I have two? Spanish and Italian. 10 years ago the answer would have been Spanish and French. 10 years from now, maybe Spanish and Greek. In either case, I should get Spanish. Done.
38. Would you move for the person you loved? In a heart…well, truthfully, perhaps, likely. Yes?
39. Are you touchy feely? So-So, depends on the person, circumstances etc. I think I am selectively touchy and electively feely.
40. What is your life motto? These dishes will not wash them…oh, motto, not mantra. Uhm, Do unto others, yadda x 3
41. Name three things you have on you at all times? Kidney, liver, pancreas.
42. What is your favorite town/city? Well, I’d say Chicago as it is the city of my birth and where I’ve spent most of my life (as a resident or employee), but I don’t think I’ve visited enough places to name Chicago as a favorite, it is just the most familiar and growing more and more in my estimation every day.
43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash? Fed quarters into washers and a dryer.
44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it? Last week. I write (and mail) two to three letters a month.
45. Can you change the oil on a car? Probably. I haven’t, but I probably could.
46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her? Monster cramps and needed to get off the phone, before she got ‘bitchy’.
47. How far back do you know about your ancestry? On my mother’s side, as far back as my great-grandmother. I don’t know much at all about my maternal grandfather’s family. I have a booklet outlining my father’s family, but I haven’t read it, yet.
48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy? Hmmmmm, I think it was an award ceremony, M was nominated for an award. I wore dressy black slacks, white shirt and a speckled black/white (nearly grey) blazer and black boots. I even put gloss on my lips. Faaaancy.
49. Does anything hurt on your body right now? Now that you ask, no. How cool is that?
50. Have you been burned by love? You know, I thought I had been, but it turns out it was just gas.

Good Thursday Morning

It was a balmy 21 degrees this early morning. That may not sound too attractive to some of you but when it's been in single digits or worse, anything below zero, 21 feels balmy. 21 is balmy. It was colder yesterday morning and will likely be colder tomorrow morning, but on this morning it is 21 balmy degrees.

There is snow and ice everywhere, still. Though balmy, 21 degrees will not alter scenery. Not even the 32 we surged to last weekend made much difference to the landscape. There was however, enough warmth to warrant caution especially around buildings. Falling ice. The forecast calls for a similar warm-up this weekend. Caution Falling Ice signs will again appear.

Though in the midst of colder than average temperatures, seemingly never-ending snow and ice covered streets, I am good. Heck, compared to what some folks woke up to this morning, I am more than good.

I've only fallen down twice (yes, again since the stairs event) this season (so far). Once again, the daughter was there to witness my lack of grace. Still, I am good. Heck, more than.

The warmest parka from last season has been replaced. The zipper that failed, was replaced, failed again and yet again replaced (or repaired) held up for a time, but then began to fail. On one of the colder days, it failed multiple times causing many moments of mid-section freeze. So I got a new parka. I like this parka much, much better. One, it's warmer than the other parka. Two, it has an excellent zipper. Three, it has pockets. Many glorious pockets. Patch pockets, slash pockets, inside pockets, even a hidden pocket.

So yeah, it is cold, snowy, icy and more. But I have the comforts of home, am surrounded by the glow of love, and a new, even warmer parka. So, on this day, at this time, I am good.

I wish good, heck, more than good for all those finding it otherwise this Thursday morning.

One Leg-Warmer Short

The long cold day and finally come to an end. What a relief.

Sitting on her bed, finalizing the de-layering process, Deborah was interrupted from leg-warmer removal by daughter popping her head in the room to tell a tale of the day.

One leg-warmer off, Deborah moved into the kitchen for further discourse with daughter and to check on the status of dinner. Laughter and teasing ensued. Satisfied that dinner was moving apace, Deborah moved back into the bedroom to resume leg-warmer removal.

With both leg-warmers now off Deborah moved to stow them away. Only one leg-warmer was present. Twisting and tuning, looking about the room, the bed, under items not yet stowed, no second leg-warmer. Wha….?

Daughter returned to doorway looking to add to her previous tale stared at Deborah with mirth in her eyes and a questioning smirk on her lips. Deborah asked, “didn’t I have on both leg-warmers?” Daughter replied, “I would guess, since you have two legs.” Wha….?

Deborah stowed the one leg-warmer, checked that the other pair was indeed, a pair for they would be needed the next day and let the one leg-warmer ease off her mind assuring herself that it would turn up.

The next morning’s routine was just that, routine. Deborah rose, fed the cats, brewed the coffee (well tried to brew the coffee…coffee must be put IN the filter/pot), showered, prepared her own breakfast, and prepared to get dressed.

She looked about her feet, taking note of Buttah (the orange cat) and his examination of the new scale. There, next Buttah and the new scale was the second leg-warmer. Deborah checked the drawer to see, yep, there in the drawer, one leg-warmer and a second leg-warmer on the floor.

Wha….?

Buttah looked up at Deborah, meowed and sauntered away (in triumph?)

Hmpf.

If at First You Don't Succeed . . .

Yesterday, I was on a mission. Through no fault of my own (or maybe it was) the mission was not accomplished.

Today I was going to write about the mission and failure of same, but the cat (the orange one) wasn't having any of that.

He's being particularly needy this evening.

I'll try again tomorrow. Of course, it might not be about the failed mission by then.

We'll see.

Goodnight.

Four-Hundred and Sixty

My twenty-three year old daughter, as you may know, lives with me. We are the best of friends, mostly and the arrangement is agreeable, mostly.

Being here together and being women we tend to share some things. My socks, my sweats, my cash, come immediately to mind. We don’t, however, share shoes because her feet are bigger and she wouldn’t want my shoes because she hates my shoes, mostly.

Which leads me to the point, which is, what we don’t share generally, is taste in clothing or rather, style. Granted, our age difference is 25 years and we probably shouldn’t be interested in the same style of clothing, and believe me, we’re not, but what I’m talking about goes beyond that.

And while she prefers mall shopping, I’m a catalog (electronic mostly), mail order kind of gal.

Still, periodically clothing catalogs arrive addressed to her. Most are addressed to me and some are simply addressed to our shared first initial and our shared last name. Usually, it is crystal clear as to which {D} would be more interested in the contents of a particular clothing catalog. The division between what (and from whom) we buy is pretty definitive.

Sometimes, however you can’t tell by the cover.

Last week’s mail yielded a few catalogs. All but one addressed specifically and directly to one or the other of us. THE one, company unknown, product line borderline, was claimed by the younger D with her saying, “there’s cute girl-y stuff in there, this isn’t for you, you don’t do cute.”

Huff. (sorta)

She continued, “well, you don’t! You got that butch thing goin’ on. Hey, that works for you.”

I countered with, “butch can be cute.” And she said, “yeah, but not girl-y cute.”

She’s a cutie, that daughter of mine.

Sunday PM Ramble at Random

You know the difference between minus 10 and minus 17? No, me either with the possible exception of my toes starting to tingle 5 minutes sooner in minus 17 than they did in minus 10. Let's hear it for 25 degree days. YaY!

My mom and I don't see eye-to-eye on many topics. So says she, I've contradicted her from the time I was twelve. I think more likely, it probably started at age twelve when I felt the confidence to be vocal about certain things.

I've had much more fruit in the past couple of weeks, oranges among the lot. My daughter notes that I don't eat oranges sexily, "don't eat them in front of your girlfriend." I beg to differ. Perhaps. Though, I'd have to agree, the display my daughter witnessed could not have been construed as sexy. I'm sure it was a messy display. It was a very juicy orange and it was cold. Why my daughter made a connection between me, eating oranges, and sexiness is a question for another time, perhaps another forum.



Speaking of oranges, allergies kept me from eating them (and other citrus fruit) for most of my life. Only in the last couple (or three) years have I been able to eat oranges, grapefruits, lemons and limes with any type of consistency without suffering irritating outbreaks. Yuck into Yum.



That said and allergies aside, I avoided all things orange for quite a while in part because of my older brother's mis-hap and partly because oranges (and other citrus fruits) require peeling and can be messy, especially for someone like me. Though I eat oranges (and other citrus) now, I still do so in relative private and not when I'm out and about. I never even considered the sexy (or lack thereof) aspect.


Moreover, though I like oranges, I'm not wild about orange flavored products. I'm not even all that wild about bottled juices. Much too sweet for my taste.



And just one more thing about oranges, the juice of 4, combined with a bit cumin and honey make a pretty good glaze for chicken being roasted. If you cut up some veggies (potatoes, onions, celery and carrots), place them under the rack while the chicken coated and basted with the orange-sweet and savory concoction, you've got yourself a yummy side.




My quest and involvement with the group getting on a scale, acknowledging, and recording my weight has become a weekly ritual. I've gone back and forth not only with the weight, but with the value of the scale. I've gone through cycles where I avoided the scale, while still trying to maintain, there was some level of success. For a time I felt that obsessing over the number on the scale was counter-productive to the over-all goal, so I didn't weigh, except at the doctor's office and there was some measure of success there as well. I don't know which is right, which is best, never-the-less, it is my life now and in a few hours I'll know how I did this week.


While channel surfing yesterday I caught a movie somewhere in the middle. I stopped because Jennifer Beals was on screen. I read the synopsis and mildly intrigued, watched for a bit. Shortly after, my attention was diverted to something else, so I didn't finish the movie and I don't know how it ended. I'm not sure I want to know, but I'll probably seek it out on purpose at some point. Still, it got me to thinking, if there is such a gene and I do indeed possess same, it might have been nice(er) if action with the realization could have occurred sooner in my life rather then the later. Still, better later than not ever at all.




You "L" fans know that the sixth and final season begins today and of course by now you've heard or read the thrust of this new and final season. I won't spoil it here in case you haven't heard, but suffice to say, if the writers do what I fear I'll be royally ticked. But only for awhile. It's only TV, I'll get over it soon enough.

Finally, hunger is present. But not a hunger for food or even a particular food. No, not food at all.


Just to feel her, to hold her in my arms again . . .

A Chill In My Bones

. . .and everywhere else. It was block two when I realized which part of my body was in-sufficiently protected from the biting winds (oh yes, biting) and sub-zero temperatures. Have your thighs ever been so cold that it felt like they were being pricked with one million needles only to then begin to like they were being set ablaze?

Daughter gave me a lift to the train, after the short train ride to the work 'hood, I had a walk. On normal days, it is a leisurely, 6 or 7 block jaunt that I've made often. I usually add intensity by stretching out the stride, amping up the speed.

This morning, I sped up (as much as I could, what with the snowy, slippery sidewalks) because to slow surely meant to be frozen in place. Keep On Movin' looped over and over in my head, keeping my feet in timed motion.

My first action upon reaching our building was to take the quaint elevator to our floor and head directly to the women's room. The friction my pants caused rubbing against my thighs made me shriek, just a little. My thighs, ice cold to the touch, had taken on a lovely shade of red. They kinda looked like Boston Baked Beans. The friction made me shriek, the squat made me scream, just a little. However, I took the opportunity to rub my bruised and bewildered thighs ever so gently. Recovery was nearly as rapid as the assault and by the time I'd finished, I was feeling closer to normal.

Still, I'm getting myself geared (and layered) for my afternoon walk and even more so for the commute home. Hey, gotta keep movin'.

Soooo Not About Cold or Snow

Buttah's adoption papers report an approximate birthday date of 2/8. February 8th is a BIG day around these parts, beyond his Buttah-ness. However, more about that later. Now, back to Buttah. He'll be two on his birthday and in his short time here has stamped his imprint onto and into every corner of our world.

A few more observations about Buttah, formerly Tacoma.

He's a top. Every time I catch he and Pete in their more-than-brotherly embracing, Buttah is clearly, driving the action, so to speak. Pete will sometimes instigate but as soon as Buttah's engines are purring, Petey flops and is content to let Buttah dictate. Pre-Buttah Pete exhibited some aggressive behaviors. And while he still does on occasion, much less so, post-Buttah.

Buttah is a quiet cat. Except for meal time. He becomes quite vocal at the sight of food, any food. Buttah boy loves to eat. He has begun to nose around Diamond's bowl and that simply will not do.

He likes to be in the bathroom, but only when somebody else is in the bathroom. He will butt his head on the door and if it isn't closed properly he'll come in. He tries to get on your lap when . . . well, when you're sitting. Otherwise he'll camp outside the door until you emerge and he'll follow you around a bit as if trying to decide if you're somehow different.

Buttah is less nimble than his feline counter-part. Pete sprints and leaps at great speeds and with height and distance. I give him a 10. Buttah jogs, stops, measures, and then jumps. I give him a 6. Because of this disparity their games of IT are a bit one-sided. This is where Pete comes out on top, again, so to speak.

Anytime spent at the computer station is doubled because Buttah takes your presence there as an invite to drape himself on the keyboard, your lap, the desk. While Pete was intrigued with the screen and the moving images, Buttah seems content to just be near, to be held.

He's giving Diamond girl a run for her precious pup money in the attention getting category. Trust me, she's up for the challenge.

How cold? Wed. projected hi: 16F / low: minus 4F brrrrrrr

A First For Me, Perhaps.

I was block four into my planned fourteen block afternoon walk when I remembered what had slipped my mind last night. I'd never gotten around to soaking my feet, which meant that I hadn't gotten around to clipping my toenails. I meant to address, at the very least, one particular toe this morning because I knew with two pairs of socks and an extended walk over snowy terrain, given the shoes I was planning to wear, pain would try to become my friend.

Well, block four into the fourteen block walk this afternoon, I remembered. However, thanks in small measure to the un-even terrain and by shifting my weight over level ground, I was able to continue and complete the walk.

However, now the one particular toenail had to go.

I don't think, in my nearly 30 years, have I ever clipped a toenail at work.

I closed the door but it still felt weird.

Near Miss

Enthusiasm about going outside to do some stuff waned at about inch three. But, enthusiasm or not, stuff must be done so out we went.

I think there was nine - ten inches before it was done for the time being. I shoveled three times before calling it a day. The capper? The Titans lost. How many times has the top seed blown it lost before THE game?

In other news, Arizona's looking good. And the team's playing well too.

Thinking dry. Thinking heat.

Phone Tree

My son has a friend, Dave.
Dave has a mom, Mrs. N.
Mrs. N has a friend, Sara.
Sara has a daughter, Jackie

Jackie is employed by the same local eatery that employed son’s dad until the stroke.

Jackie discovered that my son’s father moved to Mississippi (from Wisconsin) a few weeks ago. Jackie called her mom, Sara. Sara called Mrs. N and Mrs. N called my son to tell him that his dad is in Mississippi and is walking a little bit more.

Why no direct communication? Good question.

located image here.

Getting To Be That Time

A co-worker has turned his first two vacation days request for 2009. Historically, his first two vacation days of the new year are the Mondays following the NFL Championship Round and the Super Bowl.

This year, same deal.

Though I'm not as IN to football these days (as evidenced by my very poor Fantasy record this season and last) I do enjoy the play-offs and championship games. I don't enjoy them so much that I need to take days off work, but yeah, fun.

Back when the home team was up for the big game a video was produced to celebrate, promote and raise money. The video was a big hit. So big, that my little guy's head-start decided to stage their own production that year as part of the end-of-school-year celebration.

His first foray onto the stage was not much to his liking. It took several years to get him back.

But we were talking about football and since the home team is now on vacation, Woot! Woot! to the Titans and a shout out to the Eagles.

I don't know which team or teams the co-worker is rooting for this time around but I'm sure I'll find out. Historically, he's been quite vocal about his passion for this time of year.

This Is My Quest

For the past couple, three years I’ve been trying to reduce my body mass. Toward that end, I joined a gym, WW and a couple of other on-line support-type groups, reduced my over-all caloric intake, made more careful choices regarding snacks and made a concerted effort to ramp up my physical activity.

There was some level of success. I had to dump the gym and WW. The other efforts continued to show positive results but often, I'd celebrate those results by over-eating and eating all the wrong foods.

C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-E Good Times!

Still.

The pants I bought a few months ago, a size smaller than that of the previous season are a tad snug today, so I know I’ve loss some of the ground recently gained.

I could continue on the same vein and limp my way along to more 10 lb, 1 pant size losses over several months only to rebound with a 5 lb gain and so on, but I’ve had enough of that. I need a new plan of attack, new and aggressive goals, actions, and motivations.

Shrinking Piggies II and related accountability fits the bill.

It is my goal to lose 40 lbs. by July 6, 2009. If I stick to my plan for longer than the usual month to six-weeks, don't go food crazy at the first sign of jiggle-less showers, the goal is reachable.

So it is written, so it shall be done.

There, I feel lighter, more importantly, tighter already.

Odd Number Year

Now two full days in and I’ve managed to keep my food and drink intake within a manageable and reasonable level. I’ve had some giggles and a serious conversation with the daughter, an interesting and enlightening conversation with the son, a distressing conversation with the mom and a fun, challenging, serious, enticing, and invigorating conversation with the girlfriend.

In short, the first two days of the New Year represent business as usual, mostly.

I haven’t gotten the amount of exercise I’d hope to get but I think Saturday and Sunday will be my ‘get physical’ days.

Mom pointed out during our New Year Day conversation that I’ll celebrate birthday number forty-nine, she, sixty-nine one of her sisters, seventy-nine and the eldest sister, eighty-nine this year. (There are two brothers and another sister between my nearly 69 year old mother and her nearly 89 year old sister).

My mother doesn’t want to live to see 89. She told me so. She tells me so nearly every day. She reminds me how tired, frustrated, and overwhelmed she feels. None of her various conditions are, in and of themselves, life threatening, but they are debilitating and the constant pain is, well, a pain.
The meds tend to addle her already over taxed brain.

The details of day-to-day living are turning molehills into Mt. Olympus.

I, the only daughter, am in the process of helping her pare down even further her meager possessions, scout assisted living locales and file applications with the alphabet soup of government and social services agencies. Though tired, frustrated and overwhelmed she hasn’t quite reconciled her emotions to the eventual relinquishing of control over some aspects of her life.

Hopefully, the right locale, situation and set of circumstances will materialize sooner rather than later and she can move on to the next phase. Further, hopefully, she can begin to finally un-clench, relax and come to appreciate the good above lamenting the bad.

So, in short, 2009 so far, business as usual.

not quite what i had in mind

It was just about this time of year two years ago when I met Neta. I was drinking wine, trolling the various sites where I had profiles posted, checking the traffic, listening with half an ear and watching with half an eye TV. At some point that night I remember the movie Sideways was playing.

After several glasses of wine over some period of time, I saw Neta's profile. I was in the middle of a quasi-chat with someone not that interesting but enough to fill some empty minutes. I read Neta's profile 2, 3, 4 times and then decided to write. Not just a hello, but a real full-on, howyadoin' greeting. While I was composing same I saw that she'd written me. Be still.

We "talked" off and on the rest of the night and littered one another's boxes with mail messages over the next several weeks. My heart.

Last year, on this eve I was there with her. Right about this time I think we were napping, gearing up for the night. The plans were to go to her parents for shrimp cocktail and back home for steaks from the bar-B. I remember it was very, very windy. I remember the steaks were fuckin' awesome.

For a number of reasons we couldn't be together this year on this eve, physically. But we are more than ever together in every other way. Miss her wildly.

The cat I told my daughter she couldn't bring home has become quite the snuggle Buttah. Still, I have visions of . . . otherwise, on this eve. I'll be on the phone workin' some of that out a bit later.

To my love, I wish you a Happy Glorious Joyous New Year and heres to seeing you soon!

To one, to all, happy, happy, joy, joy and much Peace.

If you together with your loved one(s) be glorious! Celebrate, happiness, togetherness.

Cheers!

Four-hundred and Forty-Nine

He pinky swears to not taking a swig nor was he trying to hide my Skyy. I haven't decided if he can be believed. There have been incidents.

Sun Not Fun Day

I wish that I could blame it on "the holidays" but I can't. In truth, I probably wouldn't, even if I could because that would be a cop-out. I think it has to do with limbo. I think it has to do with stagnation. I think it has to do with...I don't know what the hell it has to do with.

Maybe the weather. But then again, maybe not. Today's weather was great by late December standards. There was much rain yesterday (flooding for some) and there was fog. But the temps climbed (yesterday). Though colder today, the sun shone and I walked some 4 miles.

There are a number of things (and people) making me happy these days but there seems to be an equal number making me sad. In some cases they are the same things (and people). Odd, that. Maybe that's . . .

I was looking forward to Christmas and the day was fine as far as that goes, but the day left me feeling. . .flat. The days since I've been scrounging around for something to fluff me again. Pie and the new obsession, peppermint ice cream help, but clearly a temporary fix not to mention offering the potential for even further angst-like feelings.

Things to do. I need things to do. I have things to do, like finding bowls for the dozen or so Tupper, Glad and various ware tops hanging out in my cabinet. Or not. There are other things of a much more vital nature. But, getting into them, problem.

Groove, none. Gone.

Temporary, yes. Hope.

Simple Requests

If you're here in the Chicago area and you've been dreaming of a white Christmas, please, enough already! Many thanks. AND oh by the way, have yourselves some nog of choice and . . .

merry, merry, joy, joy!

Lost Weekend

D: Leave the man alone, he's probably having a sex fest.

Rewind:

Saturday morning I'm at mom's and she asks about M. Well, I talked with him Thursday but not since. Mom reports that she called him Friday and as yet hadn't had a return call. Not unusual, given his schedule (it's a performance weekend) much, much too soon to take note, let alone be concerned.

Much later Saturday mom calls me, "Have you heard from M yet?" I hadn't. I promise to call and leave my own message.

Sunday afternoon and no call back. I surmise that he must be having problems with his phone. I was expecting him to call to tell all about the special reading of "Polar Express" he was hired for that took place on Saturday. Besides, he wouldn't ignore messages.

Mom still hadn't heard from him Sunday night, she called me. I tell her it's probably the phone. She runs through a laundry list of every possible calamity that could have be-fallen him and, "we would never know!" she finished.

Ok, so now I'm anxious. I tell her again about it probably being the phone. He's been talking about getting a new one for a few weeks now. Further, I relate that he'd likely call from work Monday morning and that if he didn't, I'd take it from there. Still, the damage was done. Those thoughts are in my head. I know I'm his emergency contact. I know there is one other person on that list. I know him to be a careful, considerate and conscientious young man who steers far afield of dangerous situations. Still, I find myself concocting my own what ifs. Shit happens.

I go to my daughter for some perspective, some calming, some I don't know...and she says, "leave the man alone, he's probably having a sex fest."

I am rolling, yes, on the floor and the rest. If you knew my son, you would know the absurdity of this statement. Still, the statement did the job. I regain my positive thought bearings and gear up or rather down to turn in for the night.

Monday morning, 9:05 A.M. Harley appears at my office door and announces, "your son is on line 101 for you."

Good. I pick up the call and M goes on to tell me about his long, grueling, sometimes fun, mostly frustrating weekend. And yes, his phone crapped out on Saturday in-between events.

Perfect Day For a MeMe

There was a thought of going outdoors. The thought was dashed as it is, well, this. I don't do sub-zero. Even diva D balked at walking, though business meant we must. She took it as much as she could and then just stopped, turned and headed back home. I think she willed the poop out as it kinda slid right out of her, she barely even squatted. Beyond that, taking out the garbage is the only other outing planned. Word is we're in for more of the same tomorrow thus, I must mentally and emotionally prepare for the laying on of many layers of clothing for the trip into and from work.

In the meantime, indoor chores and a meme. This one by way of Jess.

Christmas

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
For a long time it was wrapping paper. Now I use newspaper. I no longer subscribe to printed newspapers but on occasion I might pick up a daily or in the case of my town, weekly news. Some time ago one of Chicago's daily papers started printing a small, bullet-point type edition of their daily. This, they give away. So I pick up these or snag them from the break-room. For gift wrapping I select one of the more colorful pages or a page that has some loosely connected story or pic to whatever I'm wrapping or to whom the gift is directed. A couple of years ago someone gifted me with gift bags, boxes and wrap. I use those as needed, where appropriate.

2. Real or Artificial?
Now, artificial. At one time, when the kids were really young, real. I will likely do real again.

3. When do you put up your tree?
There is no hard and fast rule except, not before the 15th. I usually pull it out or storage, put it up and together affix the lighting. D is usually in charge of the ornaments.

4. When do you take it down?
As a rule, New Year's Day. NYD 2008 I was out of town so was later. I'll be here NYD 2009 :( so I'll be de-decorating.

5. Do you like egg nog?
Why, yes I do, though, spiked or no I must go easy for obvious reasons.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?
There weren't that many, but the easy-bake oven ranks, as does one of the 2 or 3 dolls I'd ever received as a child. When we were in our teens mom got us 8-track tape players. They were identical and pretty cool. I didn't get a chance to enjoy mine for very long as younger brother took it apart and fashioned himself some surround sound for the 'bedroom' he made for himself out of two closets, one of them mine. That's a story!

7. Do you have a nativity scene?
No, I don't.

8. Hardest person to buy for?
I find it hardest to buy for people I don't know really well.

9. Easiest person to buy for?
By far, D as she tells you exactly what she wants. The challenge, limiting her wants to the constraints of your budget.

10. Worst Christmas gift ever received?
Not worst, but most recently D & M have duplicated dvds. D would give a title for Mom's day or birthday and M would repeat at Christmas or vice-versa. I think now they are conferring with one another. I hope anyway, lest I wind up with another copy of "Happy Feet".

11. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards?
I have always preferred regular mail but lately, leaning toward electronic. I still use regular mail for some extended family and a few others.

12. Favorite Christmas movie?
Well, among the favorites, in no particular order are, Scrooged, A Christmas Carol (1938 version), How the Grinch Stole Christmas, A Christmas Story, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street and White Christmas (1954).

13. When you start shopping for Christmas?
Usually July or August. The last couple of years it's been later, October and November, though the choosing begun much sooner, the actual purchasing didn't happen until later. Next year I plan to be done by October.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
No, I don't think so. I may have passed on something I couldn't use but not in gift giving form.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
This is a trick question, yes? Seriously, I don't have an all-consuming favorite and about the only Christmas-y food I've run across that I have avoided is fruitcake.

16. Clear or colored lights on the tree?
Currently clear but I have no particular preference. The tree has rocked many looks over the years and continues to evolve.

17. Favorite Christmas song?
I enjoy Christmas songs, traditional and otherwise, for about 2 to 3 weeks and then, enough.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
Home.

19. Can you name Santa's reindeer?
Of course.

20. Do you have an angel or a star atop the tree?
Neither. I have a floral arrangement (fake) that has a bell attached to it. Good thing too, as the bell alerts me to when a cat (Buttah) is playing with the tree.

21. Open presents Christmas Eve or Christmas day?
When the kids were small, always Christmas morning. Now it depends as we don't stand on any particular ceremony.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
How The Holidays are co-opted for an excuse or cause for everything, good or bad. The crass commercialism and the fact that it seems to get booted up earlier and earlier every year. The food. Oh, don't get me wrong, the food I enjoy it's the extra doses of will-power required to avoid over-eating that I find annoying.

Snow and Meme

I didn't work today but not because of the snow. I didn't go in to work because of a previously scheduled the day off. I still have vacation days to burn and so I'm burned one today. The seasonal nature of our business, the small staff and my areas of responsibilities make taking extended vacation dates problematic. For the past several years it has become the norm to utilize my vacation days by taking the odd Thursday, Friday and / or Monday combo, extending weekends, throughout the year. This arrangement has worked relatively well, so far.



So a day off, an opportunity to sleep in a bit, yes? No. Daughter arrived at my bedside at 4:30 or so to tell about journey to move her car. She'd parked on a snow route and because of the heavy snowfall overnight there was a high risk of being towed. Just as I was drifting back to sleep (after popping a pill for the throbbing headache) Diva dog skittered to the side of the bed needing...somebody and since my door doesn't stay closed (gotta work on that) I was the chosen one.


We settled in and just as we got all comfy, my cell phone jingled. A robo-call from the Valley View School District with an alert that the schools in their district would not open due to the snowstorm. NO, I do not have any children in school and when they were, it wasn't the Valley View School District. My cell phone number got on their list somehow and I've been receiving their recorded messages periodically for about 6 weeks. A few days ago school closed because a student told a teacher he had a gun. I'll make a call and see about getting off the rotation, in the meantime I'll tag the various numbers they've used.


Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, asleep, or rather trying to be asleep. The cats started their campaign to get me up and onto the cat crack dispensing about 6:30 or so. I did my best to ignore them and settled back in and in very short order the phone chimed again. Neta and I chat for a bit and during that chat I decide to get up when we're done as it was clear, sleep was over until bedtime rolls around again.

I get on with the business of the beginning of the day then and after feeding the animals and having a bowl of oatmeal myself I don my layers and head out to deal with the snow that fell overnight at at 8 a.m. was still falling some. After helping D dig out I go about the business of clearing the walk and creating a clear path to the garbage dumpster.

The early forecast had us getting more snow, but it tapered off shortly after I got inside and hasn't booted up again. Well, not yet anyway. The the rest of the day was spent grooming diva dog, shopping for groceries and running other errands. Saturday is the day for walking hiking to mom's to take care of some things over there.

Right about here, you're thinking, "so whassup, where's the meme?" Well, that was the plan when I started, but heh, plans change.

I'm O K

I was a tad sore from my tumble but I'm feeling much better. Or at least I was until the storm and my normally 40-45 minute commute (including walking & waiting) turned into an over 2 hour ordeal at the end of which I had a heap of snow to clear from the front (and side) of the building.

These folks views were better and more artistic than anything I was thinking yesterday, or even so far today.

On the plus, today was the day of our Christm...no, our holid..no, heck, the company sponsored feed bag. The boss (at the last minute) decided to buy the few of us suckers workers not on vacation, lunch. Of course, he looked to me to find a place (he did give me slightly more than a day) to cater the non-eventful event. In very short order I thought of Jerry's. I've taken my lunch there on occasion and found it didn't suck. I asked and yes, they'd deliver and would accept a company check, sold.

The guys raved. The beer cheese (dip) tray with some kind of fried herb-y bread, pretzels and crisp bell peppers went over large. Big, big, plus, there is plenty for tomorrow and maybe even for the suckers guys who'll be at work on Friday.

Today's minus, our telephone system went whackadoodie. The boss is not amused. Of course, it'd been giving us warnings for months. Warnings that went un-heeded. But, shhhhh you didn't hear that here. Hopefully, our repair guy, "Daryl" will be able to secure the part for our antiquated system by tomorrow morning and that said part is indeed, the problem (he diagnosed via telephone). Otherwise. . . gosh, I wish I could take tomorrow off.

In The Beginning

Daughter: My first thought was what if I couldn't pick you up?

Me: 911

I was fine. I thought I feel it the next day, but I didn't, much. The tree and other decorating paraphanlia is now out of storage. The tree and the lights are done. That's where it ended until later in the week. By Thursday all will be done, perhaps.

Chills. Random.

I was outside with Diamond. She had business but was taking her sweet time. Normally, this is not a problem. But, normally it’s not 14 degrees. Still, I was dressed for the weather and wasn’t overly bothered by her dilly-dallying. I used the time to peep some of the neighbor’s decorative efforts.

Some lights are brightly shining.

I like Christmas decorations. I don’t particularly like that they get booted-up earlier and earlier every year. However, now is about when I start to feel the mood. The town decorations aside, the neighborhood is somewhat slow (by general current standards) to go ablaze with lights and such.
Some have been bitten by the bug and have their decorations up and shining.

On this very cold night I’m happy for the sight and for the diversion.

The lights sparked some song memories.

Not Christmas or holiday songs as you might imagine.

The first, D. Boone’s “You Light Up My Life” flashed in my head and the refrain ran in a loop for a couple of cycles. No, I didn’t and don’t like the song but it is buried there, somewhere in my head, sparked by…lights. The effort to push this song out of my head clinked my mind to the line, “. . . it can’t be wrong, when it feels so right . . .“ which prompted L. Ingram’s “If Loving You Is Wrong”

If loving you is wrong I don't wanna be right

If being right means being without you

I'd rather live a wrong doing life

Your mama and daddy say it's a shame

It's a downright disgrace

Long as I got you by my side

I don't care what your people say

This is a song about a married man who is being loved by a woman beside his wife. The other woman is being pressed by family and friends to give up this relationship which to them is clearly a no-win situation for her. The man, per the song, shares a love for the woman but not so much that he is either willing or able to sever the relationship he has with his wife and two little children.

Am I wrong to fall so deeply in love with you

Knowing I got a wife and two little children

Depending on me too

And am I wrong to hunger

for the gentleness of your touch

knowing I got somebody else at home

who needs me just as much

Now, this isn’t going anywhere that will lead to anyplace good. So, BE GONE wrong love songs.
I forced a gear switch. The gears focused on the 14 degrees and “Let It Snow” and it’s line, “the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we’ve no place to go, . . “

Well, we do have someplace to go, INSIDE. I stamped my feet, shook my head and exhorted Diamond to finish her biz so that we could do just that.

Once inside I booted happier tunes.

Bone Dry, That's Why

Tiff and NCP both did the 46 odd questions thingy. I liked them both. I started my own. I answered down to question 22, realized that number 23 was missing and skipped on to 24. I got down near the end and stopped because I’d run out of time. I was going to come back and finish and post it. Then I changed my mind.

I saw Maria’s “Ask Me A Question” post and I did, ask her a question, that is. I visited over at Val’s and saw that she’d followed Maria’s lead. I asked Val a question too.

Then I thought, hey, maybe I could do that too. But then I thought, maybe not.

~~If, however anybody wants to ask me a question, shoot.~~

So then I was stuck for what to post.

Immediate family? No, not today. Extended family? You don’t want to know, trust me.

Work? No, much too mundane, not worthy of any elaboration.

Politics, religion, or the economy? I can’t wrap my head around any of these topics enough to pull together enough coherent sentences.

Culture or hobbies? I’ll take that under advisement.

So, what? Pets? Done, well except to say this doggie’s snores are nothing compared to Diamond’s.

Then what’s left? Underwear?Nah, can't talk about underwear, especially party underwear. But, that's exactly the topic I keep looping to. A Top Chef contestant mentioned party underwear a couple of weeks ago and I just can't stop thinking...

Today

You may have heard the big news out of Illinois today. Suffice to say today's events will reverberate for weeks, months perhaps years to come. In other news, a major snowstorm hit the Midwest today. Chicago won't see much when it's all said and done, perhaps 4 inches in the upper reaches of the northern 'burbs. Parts of Michigan was hit pretty hard. I heard over 14 inches on one newscast.

Bigger than alleged cheatin' politicos and raging snowstorms is the news that my cats, technically my cat Pete and D's cat Buttah are mad for each other. Actually, this isn't news. We've known this from day one. They like to pretend a disdain for one another (especially when they are caught in the act of lovin') but the proof is in the puddin' or rather, the pictures.

Perplexed

I don’t know.

Over the past 2, 3 or more weeks now I've been missing.

I’ve been missing the commode with the paper.

Not every time, just sometimes.

I’ve been using the bathroom for a very long time and it doesn’t take a Finch-like pitch to hit the mark.

Yet,

I’ve been missing.

Not every time, just sometimes.

I don’t know.

MY Rainbow

Brazenly swiped from Lori .

Your rainbow is intensely shaded white, yellow, and gray.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is says about you: You are a contemplative person. You appreciate optimism. You're good at getting people to like you. You depend on modern technology and may feel uncomfortable without it.

Find the colors of your rainbow at spacefem.com.

Depend on modern technology? Uhm, I don't know about that.

Instructions

MICROWAVE:

1. Slit bag on one side diagonally making a large X from corner to corner.
2. Place bag slit side down on a NON METALLIC BOWL.
3. Microwave 1 bag on high for 4 1/2 minutes or until hot (because of differences in microwave ovens, heating time may vary).
4. Pinch plastic bag from middle of uncut side, lift from bowl.
Contents will empty into bowl. CAREFUL, it's hot.
5. Stir well before serving.

I'll have you know that I didn't follow the instructions to the letter. I was careful. Not my first choice for lunch* but I forgot bring something. .All turned out well enough and along with the apple will get me through the rest of the day.

Tabatchnick Vegetarian Chili

Also, it occurs to me that it is December 5th. It was December 5, 1979 when I started working for the family and throughout all the various previous formats that morphed into my current employer.

1979. What a year that was.

NOTE TO SELF

Self,

Please avoid giving daughter anything that has to be assembled, configured, or formatted. Please remember that she IS a graduate of SAVE THE DRAMA FOR YOUR MAMA University. Further, please remember that she is a ready-to-wear, ready roll kinda girl.

OK?

PS The boyfriend hinders rather than helps, usually.

OK

A long, long time ago . . .

. . . she of the Dripping with Cheez and Beanbag Chronicle posts dared challenged invited me to participate in a game involving music. The exercise is to have me identify my music likes that tend to embarrass me.

I’ve struggled with this exercise, thrown by the embarrassment aspect, I think. I’m not embarrassed by my music likes. I’m probably more embarrassed by the fact that my head itches when I’m very, very excited. But, then again, I suppose there are musical guilty pleasures, which I suppose further, spells embarrassment.

Do I like what would be considered crappy music? (Is only crap-tastic music translatable to “embarrassed to know you”?) Yes, more than likely. Do I care what others think about me and my liking of said music? No, more than likely. Still, it has taken me forever to tackle and spill. I suppose nailing a listing of anything is part of my issue. I do lists, no problem with lists, per se. I just don't cotton to lists of favorites, most or least.

But, I said, I'd play (a long, long time ago) so here's the stab. However, rather than travel the great divide of the musical spectrum I’ll stick to one most embarrassing (?) genre, TV theme songs. I have watched tens of thousands of hours of TV over my lifetime and I have learned the lyrics and tunes of many, many theme songs. Heck, I have at a time or two owned cassettes of TV themes…volumes 1 and 2. Even today, one of my last cd purchases over the past few years was "Grey's Anatomy" music from the series (Vol. 1), purchased in part, on the strength of the theme song.

There are many that have remained under my skin for one reason or another, but I’ll limit my list, for better or worse, in no particular order to five six a few.

Even before there was a lovely lady who met and married a man named Brady, there were the ladies (and Uncle Joe) of “Petticoat Junction” and then there was “Maude” and the “Good Times” family. The themes (and the shows) made an impression on me that resonated for years following their respective runs.

Later as TV viewing became influenced by the kids in residence, I became aware of shows (and their themes) that I might not have otherwise. My son became enthralled with “Simon and Simon”. He couldn’t hear the opening strains of that theme and NOT get excited. He ran to get his red truck which he dubbed his “Simon and Simon” truck and the rest of the paraphernalia need to re-enact the drama and then some. Thanks to a long run and syndication, “Simon and Simon" was part of our lives for a long, long time.

One of my daughter’s favorite shows was “Saved by the Bell”. Though I cringe when I hear the theme now, I can’t help but smile as I recall her devotion to the Bayside High gang. She recently revealed her belief that SBTB was partly responsible for her skewered vision of the high school experience. Explains some things, hmmmm. The Fresh Prince and the "Living Single" ladies got quite a lot of play as well.

Most of the TV theme compilations I procured included instrumental, jazz-like compositions themes from “Taxi” and “Hill Street Blues” and the like. I do remember at least one volume included the “Greatest American Hero” theme, which I’m not at all embarrassed to admit that part of the lyric remains with me still, ". . . believe it or not, it's just me."

Does the theme make the show more or less endearing? I don’t know and that’s not the topic for today. I will say that the theme sometimes has drawn me in and there has been a time or two when the music in the show has kept me around longer than than the plot-lines and / or performances may have warranted. I recognize that many TV themes are extended jingles. That, I think is the appeal. They are catchy and in some cases well done. Of course, that's just me.

There are hundreds of themes that have crossed my radar and of those several that I count (or have counted) among favorites that aren't mentioned here. I've written too much already, I think. But, I cannot close without and honorable mention going to "Bewitched". The theme is for me only so-so but, well, it's Elizabeth Montgomery. Yum.