Wild Oats

Legacy

2010-06-18T09:13:00.000-07:00

Legacy

Her nickname was Bill, very befitting to a person with a sense of humor I think. She was my maternal grandmother, Willa Jean Smith. Aunt Bill, Granny Bill, Ms. Bill Smith, how can you not laugh? My Grandfather asked me once, “Do you know how hard it is to be a navy man and wear an I.D. bracelet that reads, “I love you, Bill”?” To this day I believe she did that purposely for a laugh. I think her eyes might have sparkled wickedly as the clerk asked her a second time if the name was right. My family believes strongly in the value of good humor, no matter the circumstance, and we don’t care who is watching or if it’s necessarily appropriate. My two uncles have been a constant source of pranks and laughs for as long as I can remember. No matter how old they are, they are brothers first, bickering, taunting, laughing, and teaming up on the rest of us. Our laughter only serves as fuel to their fire of slapstick comedy. More than one surly nurse has chastised us collectively for making too much noise in the hospital room of a family member. It wouldn’t be so bad except we tend to gather around the sick and wounded, and we don’t leave. We are a close-knit bunch, when one is down the others swarm. A steady stream of visitors follows the fallen ensuring proper care and taking note of anything that could later be used so invoke tears from fall-on-the-floor laughter.

There are eight grandchildren and for a long time my grandparents could not afford Christmas presents for us. Then one year we started getting money in our stockings. I’ve never seen them laugh so hard as when a $20 bill was put in everyone’s stocking accept the youngest granddaughter, who received $1. The tradition is that we all look in our stockings at the same time and one by one rattle off what we find. “Twenty dollars, twenty dollars, twenty dollars,” the voices rang out. Then my little cousin Amie, who was around seven years old at the time, said in a quiet pitiful voice, “One dowwar.” My grandfather snickered then we all laughed as he handed her a $20 dollar bill. It is one of our favorite things about additions to the family, the “stocking joke.” Over time, laughter has developed into our best defense against the trials of life. When my great aunt was diagnosed with cancer, we all sat around her, laughter billowing so loudly from her hospital room that we drew the attention of anyone who passed by. We laughed at the prospect of our prim Aunt Helen having no hair. She boasted that she would no longer need to try to stay on a diet and that no hair meant no more beauty shop, which in turn meant more money to spend shopping.

Bill never possessed good health. She was sick with one ailment or another for most of her life, though she never complained. She was a kind and gentle woman of strong faith in God who showered us with love and earnestly hoped we would learn something about life from her. She was fiercely protective of her family and was determined that we work at staying close to one another. We celebrated every birthday and any other major holiday, then threw in a few extra parties for good measure. For years she used an old office chair to get around in the kitchen. I remember being so jealous; rolling across the floor looked like so much fun to a 12 year old. It wasn’t until years later that I learned that she used it to keep from having to walk very much. Using an actual wheelchair would have made her look ill and that was not acceptable. We enjoyed many meals from that kitchen, prepared from that chair.

Four years ago, after an 8 week battle with her failing body, she was dying, at the age of 63. She was in a great deal of pain, though at the time we didn’t know it, no one did. We rallied around her hospital bed day and night. She was never alone. The nurses knew all of us, especially my uncles; they were the ringleaders of our incessant laughter. As her condition worsened, she struggled to remain focused and would frequently talk of her youth as if it were happening right then. To most, that would be sad, to us, it was material to use against her later. In our minds her condition was temporary, she had to get well. Every day the doctor would try to gauge any progress or decline by asking questions, her answers determining her state of mind. Some of the most frequent questions were about her children. What were their names? How many did she have? Most times she answered without faltering. One day, she was having a particularly hard time staying with us. We talked over her, around her, about her, not very much to her. The doctor came in and began his usual questioning. My uncles were quick to tell him that she wasn’t herself she was slipping today. The doctor smiled and said, “Ms. Smith, how many children do you have?” She didn’t answer. With a sigh, he touched her hand and asked, “Ms. Smith, how many children do you have?” “Two boys and a girl,” she answered with a hesitant tone. “Ms. Smith, what are your sons’ names?” We all waited, praying for an answer. In a moment of clarity, her blue eyes flashed with humor, she smirked and answered, “Dumb and Dumber”. Even the doctor laughed along with the rest of us. My uncles laughed for a moment then, as if suddenly realizing their role, glanced at one another then to my grandmother, which brought on a second wave of laughter as we enjoyed the joke finally being on them.

Less than week later she passed away. When she died, my family fell into a tailspin. We could not get a handle on the loss. We were not prepared for that. She was supposed to get better and come home. The holidays were coming and she needed to get started on the fudge and pecan pie in just a few weeks. I drove my mother and grandfather home from the hospital and as we walked toward the door of the house my grandfather stopped and just stood there. “I don’t want to go in there,” he said without looking at me. “I wish I could just start walking and never come home.” A moment of fear swept through me as I realized he was quite capable of doing just that. “You want me to lose you too?” I asked. With tear filled eyes he looked at me then put his arm around me and pulled me close to him. “No honey, I don’t, I just don’t know how I am supposed to go on with out her.” I didn’t even have time to answer as he nodded toward the door and we went inside. It was dark and the air was thick with grief and inexpressible pain. We avoided her kitchen and no one touched the chair, her chair. My mother made funeral arrangements, friends and family brought food, people visited, and our once laughing voices went silent.

There is one funeral home in their small town of Huntsville, Ar., and that day it was filled to capacity with people gathered outside. Two of the nurses who had cared for her were in attendance; her life had made an impact on them in eight short weeks. Her smile in the face of pain, her gentle spirit, and giving nature had all shone brighter than the fluorescent glow of the lights in her room. My brother, 25 at the time, spoke at her funeral. He delivered a spiritual message that spoke of God’s love for mankind, and His sacrifice that we might live. At the end of his speech he told the story of a woman who had looked death in the eye and chose to laugh. As he began to speak of our family, my uncles specifically, those who knew us well started to grin. The funeral home hummed with tender laughter through tears as he recapped “Dumb and Dumber” and we were reminded of our purpose. That night we shared every funny story about her that we could recall. We remembered in joy a life that had taught us how to live.

Things I See in the Park

2010-05-13T06:33:00.000-07:00

I walk every day in a local park that has a walking track. The following are some of the things that run through my mind whilst I lament not having remembered my MP3 player again.. and thus have nowhere for my mind to be other than.. here.

Runner Barbie: Her pony tail is perfect, it sits high on her head, her ear buds never fall out and probably don't get sweaty, her little sports-bra-tank-top clings just right to her body showing no strain in keeping things secure and her little shorts are just that, little. I love her shoes, they match her outfit and her tan is near perfect, I say 'near' because there /has/ to be a blemish somewhere, right? I cling to that hope.

Runner Ken-Wannabe: His shorts are baggy and worn over spandex ones, thank you, Ken, for the cover-up. He is shirtless today and his tummy is sucked in, so much so that it is amazing he can breath. You can tell it's not a natural position because instead of there being a nice flatness from chest to abdomen, it is concave, from having been forcibly deflated while he tries to run. He is also tan and will probably hyperventilate at some point.

Uni-Jogger: The first time I saw him I immediately thought of the sketches of the unibomber.. it's over 70 degrees, he's wearing a full sweat suit, hood up, jacket zipped over a rather large, barrel belly. He's not going for the "Ken" facade, no, but his little legs are barely moving, he must be trying to give himself a heart attack. He's no taller than me and twice as round.. did I mention full sweat suit?

Geriatric Gerry: These guys make me feel guilty. I am walking. They are 'jogging'. Granted they have support socks and bands at their knees and elbows, a water bottle on each hip, which has probably been replaced.. but they are jogging..shuffling quickly anyway and they lap me. So.

Skater Boy: Goggles, knee pads, elbow pads, spandex suit, in-line skates, one hand on his back, bent over with the other arm swinging. Training for the Olympics? He's at least 60.

I know I know.. these are probably all very nice people whom I'd be lucky to call friend. And to be honest, I'm probably on their list...

Clinging-To-Youth Walker:

My tank top isn't fitted, my shorts are to my knees,
My shoes don't match my outfit and I have no MP3.
My hair is in need of dying, I forgot my H2O,
I'm texting while I'm walking, or talking on the phone.
I'm 41 and counting, the scale my enemy,
But when I finally reach my goal.. I'm having a dessert or three!

This...isn't Malvern..

2010-03-19T09:05:00.000-07:00

This actually happened about a year after I moved down here.. and those who know me know that I come by my directional sense impairment naturally...so.. cut me some slack!

So we're trying to figure out where to go to dinner and I had gotten some Mazzio's coupons..

Me, "Where's Mazzio's?"
Jim, "Malvern.." (he swears he said Arkadelphia.. this is a disclaimer for his benefit)
Me, "Okay, cool lets go.."

So we load up and head out. Now.. I am a passenger.. I talk and doze...we get on the freeway after a long twisty-turny road.. we exit..go to Mazzio's and then afterwards.. we decide to go to Wal-Mart.

Me, "Oh cool.. we can see if they have different stuff at this Wal-Mart"
Jim...blank stare.
Me..happy in my own little world.

So we take off for Wal-Mart and I have to laugh to myself that Jim parks in the same place, even at the Malvern Wal-Mart as he does the Arkadelphia one, odd, the parking lot looks different huh. Oh well! Shop! So I walk in and I'm looking down every row with a sort of child-like wonder, and I head for the ladies department, underclothes to be precise, because I'm hoping for more color choices. I'm all aglow, looking through the panties and bras and socks and I don't remember if I bought anything or not but, it comes time for us to leave.

So we walk out and I survey the parking lot, shake my head, "I didn't realize Malvern Wal-Mart had those big yellow posts in the lot like Arkadelphia.." Huh weird. "But just like always, you park in the same spot no matter what store we go to.." And I notice Jim is just looking at me like I've lost my mind. So we get in the car and I'm sitting there, slowly doing the math.. and I start to giggle.. Jim looks at me and I shake my head, determined to NEVER tell him that I've thought all night I was in Malvern. But I can't help it.. it's just too good to pass up. To his credit, when when I finally break down (and stop laughing) and tell him that I thought we were in Malvern, when in fact we have been in Arkadelphia the whole time, he doesn't rat me out to the kids.

Me, "Oh that makes sense.. the big yellow posts and all.."

He starts laughing..and we start playing the night backwards.. he was so confused at me commenting about different stuff in /this/ store, and he couldn't figure out why I was going down every, single, aisle.. gazing at the items. He just couldn't accept that I didn't notice that we passed Fishnet on the way.. I said, "Look..we drove a while.. got on the freeway, exited.. I had a little nap.. I thought we were in Malvern!" Nevermind the giant Arkadelphia High School sign on the hill above the store.

He did tell our friends and eventually the kids heard the story.. I'll never live it down.

I've lived here 5 years...

2010-03-19T08:48:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure which is funnier.. the event itself or the amusement my husband found in it. Either way.. I'll rat myself out..

So. Last night we're shutting down computers, turning off the TV, getting ready to head to bed. I was still sitting on the sofa with my laptop and Jim goes across the living room to the front door and locks it then heads for the bedroom. I sit there and then just scowl and think, "Fine.. you were RIGHT there where the light switch is but hey /I/ will get up and go across the room and turn it off." Well, since this happens more often than not, I actually spoke it, as opposed to thinking it.. though I did grin, I wasn't mad, per se, just.. good grief.. you were right there!!

I make my remark as I'm walking back across the living room in the dark toward the stairs that lead to a little landing where there is a door to the bathroom, a door to our bedroom and the staircase to the 2nd floor. Jim is standing there looking at me and says "How about I just use this switch right here.." and I'm like..whatever..wait..what?? He reaches to a 3-way switch and flips one of them.. and lo and behold.. the living room lights come on then he flicks them back off and I'm just staring..."I've lived here 5 years..and never knew that.." Jim just stares at me for a moment. "You're joking.." and I shake my head, "Nope.. nevvver knew that switch was for the living room.." He starts laughing and I start laughing. I say, "Well, that explains a lot.. and I'm sorry for thinking you're a mean-hearted, lazy so-and-so for the last 5 years making me go allll the way to the door to turn off the lights when you go lock the door, by the switch, every flippin night..." He laughs harder. Now, we both get really tickled. I mean really.. I had no clue.. which he can not believe.

We manage to get settled down for bed and he says, "Did you never notice that the switches at the front door are sometimes up for off then other times down for off?" My answer, "Yeah, I was realllly confused on that one cause I thought you could only have alternating off/on if you have two switches for a light..and what with us only having the ONE, by the FRONT DOOR.. I really thought I might be losing it a little.." Well, it was a good long while before we managed to get to sleep.. and he's still laughing today. I, however, am thankful, all this time I thought he was trying to make some kind of subtle point about the lights.. leaving them for me to go turn off.. over there by the front door...after he was just there to lock it.. yeah.. color me observant.

To Protect and Serve

2009-08-21T09:51:00.000-07:00

First of all let me say that I have the utmost respect for law enforcement. They do a job many of us would and could not. Some of them give their lives to try to keep some semblance of law and order on our streets. It's not my fault that I must add to their piles of work to do to file a police report for stolen checks. If I don't, I have no recourse with the payee's who want their money and have a piece of paper with a signature on it, even though it's not mine. Trust me if I could handle this without bothering anyone else, I would but.. it's sorta important to me that my good name be restored as well as my money. The following is my rant so that I can purge it and move on..

One morning I looked at my online account at the bank and noticed a check to Wal-Mart that I knew I had not written. I called Jim and verified he had not either. It was in my pending $111.67, and I noticed the check number looked odd.. out of order.. by a lot. I got my checkbook out and flipped through and found that two checks were missing from the BACK of my book of checks. PANIC. I called the bank and sure enough another check was 'out there' for $200 made payable to a person whose name I will not list because there's more than one of these people and I don't want to slander the innocent ones. Needless to say it is a person I don't know and come to find out the Wal-Mart check was written to a store in Little Rock at 7:22 AM on Monday morning when I was on my way to work with Jim in the car with me. Nope, we didn't forget that we ran to Little Rock ON THE WAY TO HOT SPRINGS.. this will be important information later.. trust me. The bank put a stop payment on the second check and asked that I fill out a police report so that they could turn the Wal-Mart over for fraud. Okay, can do!

Now. As an aside.. approximately two weeks prior to this our offices were moved to a new building utilizing labor from the county jail. Being a state facility, we frequently use inmates and/or those who need to perform community service. One of those persons lifted an IPOD from the purse of a co-worker and was caught on security camera.. so me being the CSI sleuth that I am... figured there MIGHT be a connection.. maybe? I went to the Hot Springs Police department...

"I need to fill out a police report for stolen checks."
"Where were they stolen from?"
"My purse.."
"What town?"
"Well I have a suspicion but I can't be certain, I didn't see it happen."
"You need to file it in the town where you live."
"I live in Bismarck.. so I need to file it with Hot Spring County?"
"Yes."
"But I'm almost certain that this convict person probably took them..at work..here in town.."
"But you can't be sure so you need to file it with HS County, in Malvern."

So I am disappointed but drive to Malvern...and this is perhaps my favorite part of the ordeal..

"I need to file a police report for stolen checks."
"Uh huh. What happened?"
Here, I reiterate the story, and he walks along with me toward his office, as if interested.. then sits down and picks up a paper bag.
"These are hot checks and stolen checks.. it'll go in this bag.. they are mostly never pursued. The prosecutors don't want them cause the person will just say you gave them the checks then it's your word against theirs.."
"But I didn't sign them.."
He just nods then taps his desk and sits back, "So.. where did this happen?"
Here we go again.. I repeat the story.. I guess this is where he looks for discrepancies in what I've said then he nods again. "You'll need to go to Little Rock, where the check was written to Wal-Mart, that's where the fraud took place."
"Little Rock??"
"Yes. And let me warn you, they aren't very helpful...you'll need find out which store then find out which station has that jurisdiction.. then they'll send you all over the place anyway." Like today...
Now at this point I'm nearly a little teary but I take a breath and nod, "Ok..." then stand up to leave and he walks me out..favorite part coming up...

"So, you have kids?"
"Yes sir, 2 boys."
"Ahhhh. That's probably what has happened.."
"Excuse me?"
"Kids.. they do stuff.."
"My boys wouldn..."
"Yes they would, they do it all the time.. I'll bet you'll find.."
"No, they weren't even IN TOWN.. "
"How old?"
"13 and 16..and neither of them have a car or a means of getting to LITTLE ROCK nor do they know how to write checks and they wouldn't do that."
"Oh well.. maybe not.."

I leave..angry. But. I am kinda sharp.. so I go to the bank and get a copy of the check that was written to the GIRL.. which was sent to my bank for processing, making the point of fraud IN MALVERN. Hah! Take that! I call the guy back... explain.. and then...

"Yes, I have a copy of the check now, the second one, sent to my bank.. can I file this here?"
"Yes, you need to talk to a deputy, however, and will need to go to Bismarck to the east end office. Now ma'am.. are you supposed to be working today?"
"Yes..."
"Why don't you go to work, then afterwards, go to the Bismarck office and take care of this."
"Well you see.. I just want a police report so that my bank will give me my money back. I know I should care if the person is caught but frankly at this point, I don't. I will be going to Bismarck, now."
"Okay.. I'll radio ahead and let him know."

I arrive but alas, no one is there. He only checks in now and again..it's best to make an appointment through dispatch.. IN MALVERN. So I step outside and call dispatch.. he's out getting his car worked on..but they'll patch me to the deputy himself so I can make an appointment.

By now I am almost weak sounding from having been passed around.. and I tell him what I need and he says...

"Well I can just take it over the phone.."
"Wait..what? You can? Don't you need the check copies and all?"
"Well ma'am if you just want to sit with me and tell me your story I'll be happy to meet with you but I can do it over the phone"
"No no..phone is fine.. I need the copy for the bank.."
"Well you can get that in three days.."
"Three days? But.. my bank needs it.."
"Sorry ma'am, someone has to approve it after I enter it, three days.. I'll call you back with the report number tomorrow at the lastest."

Well he never called and my bank took pity on me and let me sign a letter and an affidavit stating the checks were stolen and gave me my money back. Now.. fast forward 2 weeks.. I get a letter from Telecheck.. the folks who take care of Wal-Mart's electronic checking..they want their money.. because my check was bad.. IT WASN'T BAD IT WAS STOLEN! So, I have to go to their website, download a zillion forms and get them notarized and fax them with a copy of mine and Jim's DL and a copy of the police report. THE police report. So I call the police station, yep, they have it, bring 10$ and I can have it.. 10$.. fine. I go get it, get all my stuff, go to the notary who takes pity and doesn't charge me, or it would have cost me $25 MORE to get MY MONEY back and clear my good name.

I just faxed it all.. and to be honest, I feel like I've just given my life away as their affidavit form requires my routing number, account number, DL copy, address, phone.. have I been bamboozled? Well even if they are legit.. I have been. I'm the victim here. If I were a criminal I'd have fifteen different groups of people running to my aid to make sure I was treated right, given all that I need.. possibly even given free legal services.. but no.. I am robbed and it costs me yet more to rectify the situation.. I'll update if and when it actually is fixed, until then my name is no good in ALL MERCHANTS where Telecheck is used. Thank you, legal system.

Lookin' Goooood

2009-07-01T17:18:00.000-07:00

As some may know I've been walking 2-3 miles a day since early May. Jim and I walk a mile at lunch then after work I walk to his office from mine which is about 2.25 miles. My path goes through a neighborhood of apartments and now that school is out, when it isn't unbearably hot, there's bunches of kiddos out playing in the parking lots and yards.

Imagine if you will that four-pack of boys from "Lean on Me".. only the four-pack in my story contain 2 sorta bigger ones and 2 smaller ones, somewhere close to the ages of the boys in the movie. When I start up one of the hills I can see them sitting on the steps, laughing and talking, when I am about 50 yards away.. the fun ensues..

Big boy 1: "Heyyyy...he says you look niiiiiice..." laugh laugh snort.
Little boy 1: "I did not!"
BB1: "Yeah you di-idddddd.."

Laughter, arm punches, boy stuff.. I get closer.. enough I can speak back to them without giving myself a coronary..maybe 20 yards..and getting closer..

BB1: "Heyyy...he says you look niiiiice.." brow waggle, laugh.
LB1 spins around to face me, looking terrified, "No ma'am, I swear I didn't!"
BB1: "Yeah you did.. you said it.."
LB1: "I did not!"

I smile at LB1, "It's okay.. nothing to be sorry for.."

Big Boy 2: "So are ya sayin she DON'T look nice?"
Now here I thought LB1 was gonna pass right out. "I didn't say that either!!!!"

BB2: "Cause..she does kinda look nice.."
BB1: "Yeah..."
LB1: "Mhmm.."
Little Boy 2: Looks like he ate a bug, says nothing.

Now I'm passing by, smiling, enjoying their laughter, enjoying their blushes, and when I'm about 10 yards past...

BB1: "Heyyy..he says he lovessss youuuuuu!!!!"
LB1: "I DID NOT!!!"
BB1: "He lovessss youuuuuu!"

And I just laugh all the way to the bottom of the hill. 1-I was a sweaty, hot mess.. 2-I'm like.. ancient to them.. 3-LB1 was absolutely adorable...so mortified at the thought of me thinking he thought I looked nice.. too cute.

Shrinkage

2009-03-11T08:32:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday morning and my pastor calls to ask me to sing a particular song. I find my music and spend most of my "getting ready" time practicing the song, which I haven't sang in quite some time. While I'm practicing I lay out my clothes, black slacks, funky shirt; then once we realize there's no way I'll be ready on time for Sunday School, Jim goes on without me. I finish my hair and makeup and start getting dressed only.. my pants don't feel right. For one thing the last time I wore them they were baggy on me, I didn't even have to unfasten them to take them off, and for another thing, they won't come up past my knees??? Panic. I only took a one-weekend break from Weight Watchers, I have NOT gained that much weight. Ohhhh.. Jimmmmm.. did you dry them for two hours? What is WRONG with these PANTS. I huff and puff and pull and they just are not coming up all the way, just over the knees I give up. What will I wear?! I look down as I start peeling the pants off and notice.. they look funny too. Yes, that's odd, my pants fasten the other way.. wait.. these are men's slacks... Jimmmmmm. Apparently he'd laid out his clothes too then changed pants at the last minute leaving his black slacks laying across my clothes. In my haste I didn't realize, sorry honey, I don't know if your pants will ever be the same!

Fetal Position

2008-12-15T17:08:00.000-08:00

So our youngest wears reading glasses. We got him some last year and he lost them at some point and was supposed to find them but didn't blah blah..we finally got him some a couple of weeks ago and he's been reading up a storm. We've noticed that along with this reading he's expanding his vocabulary, even if at times the use of new words isn't exactly right, it's a learning process, we're good with that.

So. My eldest is grounded for grades, the youngest was harassing him the other night, taunting him about being grounded from his phone and I reminded the younger that he'd better not make fun too much cause it could be him next time....

Jim, "Huh? What about texting?"

Me, "I said.. if we grounded Calvin from the phone he'd suffer more than Jimmy.."

Calvin, "Ahhh...I'd go into the beetle position.."

Now at this point we all take a collective look at each other and then bust up laughing...

Me, "Beetle position? Oh he means fetal position!"

More laughter. And now, at random times... one of us will just laugh...beetle position..

Why Are You Asking Me This?!

2008-08-06T05:23:00.000-07:00

So, another day in the life, or night, as it were, of me. I am a night owl so usually long after Jim has gone to bed I am still up puttering around online. My youngest likes to check on me periodically, he even asks at what time I think I will be going to bed. Now, a first thought might be.. why do you want to know? What are you planning for that time? However, if you're a reader of my blog or know us, you know that my littlest guy just likes to know where we all are, all the time.

A few weeks ago I'm sitting at my desk, it's about 11:00 and down he comes, I stop and turn around while he does his usual sit-on-the-piano-bench-and-tell-Jana-about-my day... but this night nooooo.. it wasn't about his day...

"Jana... what's genital herpes?" (Out of the clear blue sky!)
"Uh..what's what?" (Yeah stall for time, make him ask again)
"What's genital herpes?"
"Where did you hear that?" (great..what are they watching upstairs..)
"Well there's commercials ALL the time.. prevent genital herpes, medicine for genital herpes..what is it?"

Ok, here is where I fail. Truly.

"It's a disease..a virus.." (Ok good..)

"What's it from?"

"It's..from having sex!" (oh dear lord.. no it isn't.. well sorta but.. this involves a longer conversation)

His little face goes red and he grins and I stutter a little and decide I have to be a little clearer.

"Ok well..it's a virus that is spread by having sex.. among other ways but.. " (Now isn't the time to explain that a fever blister is herpes..)

"Ohhhh..so that's why all the commercials..."

"Yes that's why all the commercials.. lots of people have sex.. errr" (Did I just say that.. holy crap) "I mean.. lots of people get herpes and they need to know about treatment." (Can he see the panic in my eyes?)

"Ok. Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too.."

In a way I'm sorta proud my 12 year old doesn't know more about sex than me, and has no idea what herpes is. He's in 7th grade, however, and if you look back to a couple of years ago at my "7th Grade Health Class" post regarding his older brother.. well.. I'd better start preparing now!

Cookies for Breakfast

2008-06-17T06:23:00.000-07:00

Yes the end of the school year got busy at home and at work and it's finally settling down to a normal pace again. So, ye of little faith, I'm still here. There is a lot that happens in my life that makes me laugh so hard that I snort but I can't post it. I live with all boys.. 2 sons and a husband, some of the hilarity is strictly locker-room and bodily functions and misunderstandings of one or both. Such is my life and so very different than what I had before I met the Hardage men.

Now, anyone who knows us very well knows that it is the younger boy child who tests me the most. The things he's been through already in his short life have seemingly left him needing to be in control of things, knowing every minute what's going on, mostly being in charge of what's going on, being at the center of what's going on and not being told no. Well, I'm the Queen of No. It's a mythical place at times.. a fantasy land where when I say it, it's just simply obeyed and not questioned, sometimes I think this land doesn't exist and my little guy, who is 12, is right there with me, believing with all his heart that it doesn't exist. So after a particularly painful exploration of No, in walks the older one just in time to see his brother crying and being sent upstairs. He laughs a little.

"Here we were, going along with life, doing what we wanted... then we get this strict step-mother.. it's not working out so good for some of us.."

I had to laugh, little guy was safely upstairs, the older one and I had a little moment. We're both the oldest, we understand each other and granted at times I am his advocate and Jim, being a youngest child, picks up the 12 yr old's banner, that race never ends well. But you know, we're only 3 years in, I'm still learning, I think we all are and honestly, many who see us would never know I'm an addition to their family. We function as if we've been together from the get-go and aside from them not calling me mom, most folks have no clue that I didn't give birth to those boys. But oh my sweet youngest child, one day...one day... you too will have one just like you. I am paying for Jim's raising with them, somewhere, someone's paying for mine.

So we went to our favorite little Italian place for dinner Saturday night then afterwards went to get some gelato. We also went and picked out Jim's Father's Day presents, a good night all around. We're on the way home and everyone's laughing and talking and the youngest one is so tickled that when he tries to talk it's slurred...and I say..

"He sounds like a little drunken child.."

Jim hears me but only sorta snickers but little guy, our resident old man with hearing loss who coined the phrase "Frappaweiner"(See old blogs), pipes up.

"I sound like a Moroccan child? What the heck is a Moroccan child?"

Jim and I dissolve into laughter which only serves to make the boys laugh harder and I say, "Noo.. not Moroccan.." but I can't finish cause he's still asking, "What does Moroccan mean? Is that bad?"

Finally I say, "Drunken...not Moroccan.." and we sorta laugh it out then Jim adds, "Morocco is a country, you'd be Moroccan if you were from there."

Older brother has to pipe up and says, "Or...it's a child that just rocks a little more than the others.. More-rockin'..."

On to the reason for the title of today's blog...

An injustice has occurred.. and it's no small infraction, not to a woman. Way back before the bad gall bladder days I was on a diet, and I was doing reasonably well so I've started that plan again. It's mostly a vegan approach, lots of rice and fruit, veggies, starches, very little protein and most of it from beans and peas versus animal proteins. Honestly, I'm pretty ok with it, I love veggies, fruit isn't so bad and I can manage starches just fine. I'm still in denial about how grain-fed cattle oughtta be maybe...animal protein-lite...to no avail, it moos, it's an animal.

First week, unprecedented success, six pounds, count 'em, six. They are doing some construction on campus and they've moved a lass over to my turf for a couple of weeks. Now, it's bad enough that she is blonde and teensie and adorable, but you know, I like blonde, teensie and adorable so cool, a new friend, who wears snazzy high heels and THE cutest outfits. So I wander down to check on her yesterday morning, to make sure she knows where things are, offer help if she needs it but she can't answer me right away and puts a dainty hand up to her mouth while she chews her CHOCOLATE-CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE. She washes it down with REAL COKE and smiles, "Oh thanks!" It took a moment for the tragedy to sink in but as I bit into my banana and grabbed a few pieces of my Kashi Heart Healthy DRY cereal I realized just how wrong that was. I washed mine down with caffeine-free diet Dr. Pepper.. ie.. brown water. I don't like her anymore, in fact I'm not speaking to her till I see her gnawing on the dry, scraggled end of a granola bar. Hmph.

Yes, Ma'am-O-Gram

2008-04-08T07:31:00.000-07:00

First of all, I'm not 40. I had mine a year early by choice. That said, a warning, if you are feeling icky by looking at the title, now would be a good time to stop reading.

So. The mammogram. I've been dreading it for years. YEARS. Most women do. I have a few risk factors so I figured I might as well get it over with early. In a moment of courage when I was seeing the doctor for something else it just blurted right out of my mouth and I know my eyes went a little wide, I was surprised at myself. "I should have a physical and mammogram." What was I thinking?

The physical was bad enough. I mean really, don't you think if men had to do something similar there would be miraculous advances in technology creating harmless little gadgets to sweep over the body to detect problems. Star Trek would come to life.. if men had to have anything...smeared. So, I go to the outpatient department of the women's wing of the hospital and sign in for THAT THING that makes women tremble, and not in a good way. First to the women's only waiting room, well it's mostly women only except when men walk down the hall, they aren't allowed to sit down, but they can walk by, no biggie, we have pretty little ponchos to wear. Yes, ponchos. That's the best description I can give. It's a square piece of fabric, obviously measured for someone in Jr. High, tied at the neck, pretty much free flowing everywhere else. Now. I'm not especially prudish but uh..there is really no way to feel modestly covered.. no sleeves, no sides, and cut in such a way that.. there's no extra fabric to layer, wrap, tuck, secure, or anything else that might comfort me as I take my seat in a room full of other women. Oddly, they are all seemingly comfortable and not too concerned about gaps, ill-meeting seams, and the like. Yes, I'm the newbie. I tug and twist and try to just look unaffected while I alternately cover and bare different parts of my body, finally giving into the realization that this little kerchief isn't ever going to be described as modest.

I finally settle down and smile at whoever is looking at me, which is nearly all of them and again with the blurting, "So this is my first one.." I really want to say, "So I'm not 40 yet, I'm here early," but I figure given the atmosphere, being concerned about people knowing I'm still in my 30's MIGHT seem a little vain and shallow. The lady next to me and the one across both say, "I was called back, this is my second." Yep. Not a good time to worry over one's age. We talk briefly and I forget for a moment that the reason I am cold is that my entire right side has become exposed. Really there is no possible way to hold all the corners and sides together at once, I need some clippies..or safety pins, or A ROBE. A woman joins us from down the hall and if I thought *I* had trouble staying covered, OH MY GOOD NESS. She didn't even try and didn't seem to care, it was as if she were wearing a little scarf, and proud of it. Good for her..where's my robe..

"Mrs. Hardage.." Now let me warn you, ladies, you will do yourself a favor if you will try to emotionally detach from your breasts before you do this. They are just objects that need smished, they are harbors of disease that need checked, the gut instinct to recoil and cross your arms over your chest is pretty strong when you walk in and see the giant vice grips. The one thing no one tells you is that you need to be at least a little bit limber and practiced in either yoga or some acrobatic art, trust me, stretch before you go. You see they must place an attached part of your body into something that would be much easier were it not attached so you end up leaning your upper body just so, arms around the upper part of the machine, vulnerable and exposed, while she says, "Ok this may be a little uncomfortable.." Words of sure death. Honestly, the pressure did not hurt, but the pressure also forces muscle to be pulled and strained and it was as she said, uncomfortable. But it was over quickly, one down, one to go.

Now.. here is it important to know that my technician was a very personable, petite little thing. She asked questions, let me ask questions, allayed my fears of anything being irrevocably misshapen. She was also all business. Now the second scan was a little more tricky in that it was harder to get everything just so.. and in the end it was akin to packing a suitcase.. instead of someone sitting on it for you while you cram in all the bits hanging out, the vice things compress and the technician pushes and arranges...this is why emotional detachment is a good thing..

It's finally over and I am back in my little dressing room putting on my clothes, I don't dare look at them, I feel too guilty, sorry girls...but we had to do it. The next day I got the all clear call and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, a bonus, I can wait two years this time! And, again, if there was ever such a thing as a MAN-O-GRAM, I believe the advances in medicine would be such that nothing ever had to be compressed.

Panties, third drawer on the right.

2008-03-03T07:37:00.000-08:00

I don't know why, maybe it is a self fulfilling prophecy wherein I assume odd things will happen to me in regard to clothing, nakedness, and the like, however, there are panties in my desk drawer at work with a story to tell. Now before you shield your eyes and peek through your fingers, it's okay, I don't think anyone's sensibilities will be offended.

My office is next door to my boss's office and there is a door between. One day he called out in need of something and I pushed back from my desk to go see what that was. I noticed that my foot was on something soft and not the flat floor and I looked down. To my shock there was a pair of black panties laying on my floor, beneath my desk. I blinked and my first thought was, "How did those get down there!? Oh wait..I'm wearing mine, so whose..." On second look I recognized them, yes, they were mine and then..much like the old Seinfeld episode where time progresses backwards, I began to think back and other things that had happened that morning began to make sense. When I walked into work this morning I kept feeling like my jacket was just all wrong, as if the back of it was somehow longer than usual... back even further.. when I got dressed that morning, the jacket felt somehow smaller, oh great, I'm GAINING weight. The only thing I can figure.. they were stuck to my jacket via static cling and worked their way out eventually, the scary part is..how many people saw me walking around with black panties hanging out of my jacket? I did what any quick thinker would do and grabbed them up and stuffed them in a drawer and forgot about them. Who ever thinks as they leave their office... "Turn off lights, lock doors, get panties.." Ok, maybe some do but I don't! Therefore, until I actually remember to take them home, they will be waiting for a very surprised person who has to look through my desk for something.

Youaren'tgoingtobelievethisMCA

2008-02-05T12:56:00.000-08:00

We joined the YMCA a week or so ago. We checked out various healthclubs and this one is better equipped and far more affordable than any we looked at so, yes, we took the plunge. Now. I have not been in a healthclub in ages, I know I know, you're shocked. With the recent horrible weather, even this far south we got some of it and a windstorm knocked out power to our street for a couple of days. Power went off on Monday at 2:00pm and it was supposed to be back on by 10:00 pm. So one fun night of "camping out" in the living room. Though, no power means no water or heat or light. We do have one propane heater we can use and we were just fine, expecting to wake up sometime during the night to everything coming back on. But no. Thankfully the kids were clean enough for school, they're boys, they had water for teeth brushing..they hate baths anyway, they were happy, though they wanted to stay home in the dark with no tv or games, in lieu of school, weirdos. Jim and I, however, realllly didn't relish the thought of staying home nor did we want to go to work sans showers...aha, we can go to the Y! "You can get yourself clean.." The song says so. So we gather our necessities and head off to the Y, already daydreaming about hot showers.

Now, at some point in the back of my mind, the original tour we were given starts to replay. "Changing room, shower room, bathroom.." Wait..changing room..what was that? I didn't pay attention, I wanted to see the pool..changing room. Hmmmm. We arrive and part ways at the "Men" and "Women" and I walk in to a nearly deserted Women's locker/shower/bathroom area. Slowly it starts to dawn on me that I remember women standing in the showers in bathing suits...yes they have to shower before swimming, ok, no problem. Wait. Why could I see them? Where do you strip if you're not going to swim but either have finished or just wanna shower after you work out? My gut starts to churn. I walk slowly, with the appearance of aloofness though it's really trepidation and sure enough I arrive at said showers to find 4 curtained stalls with hooks outside, no little niche to change in, nowhere to hide and dry off, just...showers and one big, open, BRIGHTLY LIT room. Oh dear. Ok. It's early. No one is around, I'm snagging the shower in the back, worse case someone will see my arm snake out to grab my towel. Granted my pants may have wet cuffs cause I have to get into them somehow but, oh well.

So. It's not so bad. I strip behind the curtain, peek out and hang my stuff on the hooks, carefully hiding panties under the pants, jacket on top of both, towel atop that. All in order ready for use. And it's a great shower. Better water pressure than I've seen in a while. I get near to finishing and hear shuffling, people arriving, aaaahhh crap. Ok, hurry! Grab towel...the whole pile of clothing drops to the floor. #*$&$^# Squat, lean, feel, pull back, pants ...where are my panties?! Floor, they are on the floor. *swish* Grab panties. Then I hear a gravelly british accent, ""scuse me, are you 'bout finished in there?" "I say, are you 'bout finished in there?" Now I have my pants in my teeth to keep them from getting wet, "Mrrrmhmmmm," then I realize I may have sounded like an older person in distress and really don't want them calling for help so I jerk my pants out of my mouth and answer again, "Yes ma'am, almost done, just a moment." So she stands there. RIGHT there. I can hear her breathing. *whimper* I can't possibly get dressed, I realize this while I have pants in mouth, towel in hand, panties in other hand, no hook, no chair, no bench, nothing but we floor. Think, MacGyver!

I decide it's best to have on panties and jacket, (warm up jacket), towel around me somehow...yeah that works, pretty much covered, can't get my shampoo and stuff but hey, it's JUST shampoo, someone else can have it! So I walk out and she says in a huff, "It's 'andicapped only, ya know.." I just want to get to that blessed little bathroom stall with a door.."Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize.." What with the fold out shower chair, handheld shower nozzle and extra wide shower stall. I'm cramming my stuff in my bag, "Oh is this your soap? May as well get it, now." Fine you know what, we're all ladies here, what do I care? I'm the youngest person in here, I may not look all that great but everything is still in at least close proximity to where it was on me when I was a teenager, right? So I strut across to the shower and collect my stuff then dry it off all slow and saunter myself to a bathroom stall, finish dressing and emerge. I dry my hair, brush my teeth, and turn to sit down to put on my shoes and get the heck out of dodge. I look over and there she is, eyeballing me, apparently I took the spot her cane should occupy. "Lovely accent you have," I say with a smile, and continue to put on my shoes while she just stares at me. I don't think I made it into that clique.. By the way..the changing room is just that, a row of little niches with curtains for changing, albeit in another room, no matter what you do you must streak to somewhere else to dress. Pfft.

I've had my moments...

2008-01-05T22:36:00.000-08:00

I go back to work on Monday after a two and a half week vacation for the holidays. I love my job. I don't mind going back. I work for a great organization and with good folks. I have a fabulous boss or three and really enjoy what I do, how many people can say that and mean it?

That said, I think sometimes they must reallllly think I am superwoman. They walk into my office and talk to me while I'm on the phone, assuming that I can do both at once, efficiently..hand me stacks of papers and know they will go where they belong..and you know what, for the most part I handle it all just fine. Multitaksing isn't a problem for me..there have been times I've had one of those out-of-body moments where I am watching myself handle something and think..wow...girl...you are awesome. Then, God sends me a moment like this to knock me off my high horse..

My mom calls my cell phone..she has cingular, I have cingular it works out. She calls it when I'm at work which is fine, though it doesn't stop my other phone from ringing.. So one day a person comes in while I'm talking on my cell phone and filing paperwork and proceeds to explain the forms he is handing me..miraculously I turn and pick up the green file where they belong and open it for him to slide them in..because my hand is needed for my other phone that is now ringing..so I mark my place with a toe in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet..and..

"Mom hang on..."
::grab office phone::
"This is Jana.." "Hey.."(it's the boss)
::balance most of weight on planted foot..can't break the file drawer::
::Nod to man in office and smile, file folder in one hand closing it as he leaves::
"Thanks Jana, let me know if you need anything else.." (from man leaving)
"Ok bye.." (looking at man leaving)

Now..for a moment I am having a Matrix episode. The bullets are whizzing by and I am avoiding them with acrobatic moves.. A file in one hand, foot holding my place in the bottom drawer, phone at my ear cradled by my shoulder and cell in my hand. I am SO good. However...when I said bye to the man leaving my office..I hung up my cell phone..and just as I realized I hung up on mom.. meaning the goodbye for the man.. the file slipped from my fingers and papers went flying..I wobbled..stepped too hard toward the filing cabinet and stepped in it, making it roll to close and whack my foot, I yelped a colorful expletive to the STILL-ON-THE-LINE boss..who I forgot was on my office phone...

"##*$!&@~"
"Uh...do I want to know?"
"NO. You're on a need-to-know basis and you don't need to know.."
"Is this costing me money?"
"No."
"We're good then..call me..later"

Yeah, so very human. I'm not proud, but danged entertaining.

Ode to Christmas, coincidently, another nakie story

2007-11-16T22:32:00.000-08:00

This happened about 4 years ago but it's one of those stories you don't just get to share at will..it needs..space to breath..time to settle in.. a special audience.

If you sing or know a singer, say, from church, then you might understand the intensity with which the "Christmas song" is sought. I begin looking usually in September, scouring websites, sneak previews, etc. This year was no different. I found THE song, a new song, a perfect song. It was a challenge vocally in a few places but I knew I could learn it and train the strain out of it. "One King" was the song. Next on the list is "The outfit" THE outfit. THE OUTFIT. And again, earthly perfection. Black slacks, black jacket, ivory satin turn-back cuffs and collar...the kind of jacket that you don't wear a shirt under, it zipped up the front, struck me about the hips, slimming pants..black pumps, pearls. That's right, nifty!

Now..in my church at the time, I was the pianist...and I taught a Sunday School class, 3rd graders..5 boys..FIVE..boys. One little girl. One thing they loved was painting so we painted ornaments. In order to ensure I did not muss the outfit, I wore old clothes that morning for class time..then with about 10 minutes left before I had to be on-stage to begin.. I dashed to the ladies room to change and re-do my do. So far so good. I slip into my outfit and rush out, five minutes to warm up my voice and arrange my music at the piano for the umpteenth time.

Things begin to..well.. it gets ugly fast. So I march up on stage and turn at profile to the congretation. Folks are beginning to filter in and the sound guy is in front of me at stage right, soundchecking me while I am fiddling with my hair and humming. I have my hands up over my head, fluffing and poofing and I'm telling him to turn up the monitor and he's just staring at me. Odd. He taps his chest..and I'm like, "Yes you..turn up the monitor..I can't hear it.." He shakes his head and taps his chest and I swear his eyes were barely in the sockets.

A warning, when the world begins to move in slow motion, something is VERY WRONG. I look at his chest then begin to tilt my head down, to look at mine, and I see it. Or them, as it were. Yuh huh. THEM. In my haste to get ready I didn't hook in the bottom of the zipper on my jacket..and it has unzipped from the bottom upward and is clinging to life by one leeeeetle tooth at my neck. And, with my arms up over my head, the thing is spread wide over my very fair fleshed torso, starkly clad in a shiny black bra. Uh huh. It is at that moment that the world catches up to me and I glance to my right at the CROWD then grab my jacket to close it and run for the side stage door. Poor sound tech guy...he can't even look me in the eye..he turns his head and opens the door for me to rush inside and I re-zip. All the while I am thinking, "Thank goodness my bra matches my outfit!"

Now..at the time I had NO idea why I'd had a WARDROBE MALFUNCTION. I only knew that I had to be on stage, NOW, to start services, they can't start without the pianist, and while this outfit fits right, the best thing is, holding one's breath, right? So like a trouper, I go back out, sit down at the piano and breath shallowly then get up to sing my perfect song..without ever taking a deep breath, continually trying to be non-chalant about touching my jacket front..yup, girls still tucked in, goody. Sound tech guy still won't make eye contact..and I had no idea who all saw it happen.

So I make it through the service and pull my two best friends aside to tell them what happened. SO embarassing...but no...even better..I turn around at the end of the story just in time to catch the Sound Tech guy's wife's eye..and she give me "the look" and I shrink inwardly and try to laugh it off but I can tell..she's not happy. He walks by with his head turned..and I just smile and blush and dash out but inside I'm screaming, "Lady, these things are on a hair trigger, it's not my fault!" I figured that wouldn't go very far as a means of apologizing..so I just left it alone. Now and then I stare at that outfit, which I refuse to get rid of but am afraid to wear, cause I love it.

The moral of this story is... always wear a pretty bra.

Happy Holidays!

Hazards at Home-More nakie stories

2007-09-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

Because I love my husband and respect his privacy I won't go into the detail that I could with this. But! Suffice it to say there is no good way to come to the realization that you have fire ants in your underwear.

Fried, whites only.

2007-08-25T13:39:00.000-07:00

So it's Friday night at House Hardage and we normally go out for dinner, nothing fancy, basic fast food, and a trip to Wal-Mart. Yes. That is Friday night in total. Now, Jim and I had been to Wendy's for lunch earlier in the week so I wasn't in the mood for our usual and suggested Waffle House. Pecan waffles, mmmmm.

We slide into our booth and a very nice yet somewhat ding-bat-seeming waitress takes our drink orders. It could very well be that she has trouble hearing because she sorta gives us funny looks as we order but we just smile and nod and go on about our conversation. Now, said conversation has taken a turn to Jimmy's ears. Jim has noticed that they move. On demand. Yes, our oldest can wiggle his ears. So can I but mine are, how shall I say...more streamlined? Aerodynamic? Ok ok they don't stick out as far! Jim is fascinated. "Do that again.." And Jimmy does and we all laugh some because he's reading a book and wiggling his ears, which in turn makes his forehead move and his scalp shift around.

I look over at Jim and he's got a very concentrated look on his face and his eyes are squinched up and he's straining, to no avail, to wiggle his ears. "How do you do that? How does he do that?!"

Calvin, "He just does it.."
Me, "I can to..."
I wiggle mine but no one is impressed, le sigh.
Jimmy, "You use your uh...ear muscles.."
About this time Calvin and I begin to laugh and Jim turns an odd look to Jimmy, "Ear...muscles?"
Jimmy, "Yes..see?" and his ears wiggle, "The same ones that..well you know when you clench your jaws.."
Jim, "It must be the same as the winking muscle cause I can't do that either," at which point he blinks both eyes then strains again, to no avail, to wiggle anything on his head exclusively.
Calvin and I are giggling wildly, Jimmy is lost in his book but grinning and Jim is shushing us all. And that is how things went for a while, then our waitress returns to take our orders. I should also mention she is an african american. Why you ask? Read on.

Me pointing at Jimmy, "He wants a waffle with chocolate chips, scrambled eggs, and toast..."
Her, "What's he want...hash browns or grits?"
Me, "Uh..hash browns.." Score, I'll eat those.
Me, pointing at Calvin, "He wants a waffle with chocolate chips, fried eggs, whites only, and bacon."
Her, "He want what?" and her eyebrow sorta twitches at me. Eep.
Me, "Waffle.."
Her, "Yeah I got that.."
Me, "Bacon and eggs..fried, whites only."
She is staring down at me at this point and I'm smiling, "How you want those eggs?"
Me, "Fried, whites only."
Her, "You want those...sunny side up or..."
Me, "Well..it won't uh..matter cause..whites only.."
Her, "Whites only.."
Now about this time I have one of those moments. A sitcom moment. And I pause, and my eyes flick to Jim who is just staring, stone faced at me, no expression, then I look back to her and keep my ok-this-isn't-some-sort-of-THING expression on my face, "No yolks..just the whites...whites only.."
Her, "Uh huh..thanks."

She leaves and I look at Jim who is grinning like a chesire cat, "You think she got that?" I ask sorta nervously. "Not too sure.." "Well I started feeling odd saying "Whites only"..." Jim starts laughing and I am blushing beet red.

At some point I figure IF she was offended at first, she finally figured out I was ONLY talking about eggs, cause when she came back she asked, 'Is this what you meant?" and I was SO relieved to see a fried circle of eggwhites. "Yes ma'am! Perfect!" Heee don't hurt me..

It only got worse, service-wise. She took Jim's drink to refill it then forgot to bring it back. Took forever to get the food. Out of ranch dressing for the salad. And I think we were overcharged by 8 bucks but I wasn't about to question it..oi!

Konichiwa

2007-08-16T20:49:00.000-07:00

Yes.. That's Japanese. This year I've taken on a new task, a sort of after work part time thing at our school. Some of the kiddos on the residential side of things, the students who live a the school, are taking Japanese via Distance Ed, meaning, the instructor teaches from a remote location via compressed interactive video equipment. This isn't an online course, it's real time, face to face via camera and TV screen. In this situation an adult is needed in the classroom with the students but it does not require a teacher so I'm what's called a "facilitator". Every Thursday, 7pm-9pm, I get to be in a Japanese class. So...I'm excited.

Otherwise, work is a bear right now and will continue to be so for a few weeks while things settle down and new folks get acclimated. Football has started, Jim is helping coach, and the boys start school Monday, thank goodness!

More to report when there's more to report, au revoir! (I am across the hall from a French teacher)

Frappaweiner

2007-08-10T09:10:00.000-07:00

The last weeks of July proved to be busy for House Hardage. The boys went to visit their mother for a week then went directly to spend a week with my parents. We went to pick them up on a Saturday and they were all excited and ready to tell all their stories so the ride home was not quiet. We have certain stopping places along the way, where we always stop to stretch and get snacks, etc, but at Fort Smith I told Jim I really needed some sonic. So as we're wheeling into Sonic he says, "I'm waiting for the frap across the street.." and I nodded, it's a good coffee place, the Coffee Beanery. Now the children have not really been paying attention so when we cross the highway and turn into the shopping center...

Calvin, "What are we doing here.."
Jim, "I said I wasn't getting Sonic cause I want a frap.."

Jimmy is in his own world, slurping down his coke float, I am reading the sign and say "Ah yes...the Coffee Beanery.." Now, I am saying this as Jim is saying, "Frappa...cino.." So I'd guess it sounded something like Coffee-frappa-beanery-cino..to a child in the back who isn't really paying attention.

Calvin, "What's a frappaweiner?!!!"

Now at this point, Jimmy is snapped from his coke float reverie and bursts into raucus laughter. This is not your normal laughter. He is 14, JUST the right age to appreciate that someone just said "weiner". Jim and I are both giggling and Calvin is laughing and I say, "Did he just say..frappa..weiner?". Jim nods and Jimmy starts to laugh so hard that he can't breath. He snorts and gasps because, not only did someone say weiner AGAIN but.. I said it. Jana..Momma-J.. The Queen of No..the Homework Taskmaster...the woman who makes us turn off TV shows when they get raunchy...just said..WEINER.

Calvin, "What??? You said frappaweiner..."
Jim, "No I didn't.."

Jim and I are laughing too, pretty hard, and giving each other the our-kids-are-so-funny look..not because of the word so much as the sound of unabashed, unbridled laughter, so high pitched and unrestrained that Jimmy and Calvin both are gasping. It starts to settle down to mild giggles and Jimmy waits..then blurts out the word alone.. "Frappaweiner!" We grin a little and I remind him, because he does this a lot, "Son..you can over-do a punch line.."

Jim, "Yeah..you can over-use your...FRAPPAWEINER." Everyone busts up again, and I say, "Yes, knowing when to use your frappaweiner is important.." then Jim says something about proper frappawiener use and I know at least one of the boys strained something trying to control themselves. All in all this topic kept us amused for a good half hour then it finally died off only to be revived now and then along the way, to a lesser degree and I am certain that it will live a long, healthy life at House Hardage.

Quick Change

2007-08-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

Sunday was Homecoming at our church, Caney Missionary Baptist Church, in Bismarck, Ar. Now, before I moved down here, I had never heard of "Homecoming" at a church. This is usually a special service on the founding day of the church. Old members return, lots of singing, food, etc. Sunday, at the Hardages is always grocery day. Jim has had this routine since before he met me and I've not bothered trying to change it, honestly, it's nice to have someone to shop WITH, and not have to do it all by myself. So, we decided that we'd go do that after the festivities at church were over. This consisted of Morning Worship, dinner, afternoon singing, no evening service. At 2:00 we headed home to change clothes really quick, I just didn't think I could take the south Arkansas heat in a church dress any longer.

This is where things go..awry.

Me, "It's so hot..I'm not wearing this dress to Wal-Mart.."
Jim, "Ok, we'll go home and change, we need to get the list anyway."

(we arrive at home)

Me, "Just leave it running.. we'll be fast..so it won't get hot again."
Jim, "Ok."

Ok maybe THIS is where things go..awry..

(we head inside to change clothes)

Jim, "Hey uhh..."
Me, "Uh huh.."

.........and we fall asleep...

Me, "Hey...we've never gotten groceries...it's nearly 7:00"
Jim, "Yeah..we should go.."

We get up, get dressed and head for the door..Jim reaches for the keys on the hook and his eyes go wide...
Jim, "OH CRAP!"
Me, "What?!"
Jim, "We left the car running.."

Yes, five hours later.. it's nice and chilled inside, nearly out of gas..but still running. Don't try this at home, or do, just fill up first.

My Son's First Date

2007-07-23T12:18:00.001-07:00

Now, I call it a date even though we drove them, he's only 14, but it's the first time he's invited his girlfriend anywhere, so, it's a date. A movie no less. With the family. You KNOW he was thrilled. Really it went pretty well. We picked her up, talked briefly with the parents, who attend our church, then hit the road to dinner first, CeCe's Pizza, there were only a million people in line. On to the movie. We had intended to see "Ratatouille" but it was on way too late and we were already antsy to have the kids occupied, their incessant chattering was interupting OUR date. Calvin was a little out of sorts and showed out all night, as little brothers do. So, we settled on "Fantastic Four and it was a pretty good movie, naturally Jimmy picks this exchange as his favorite part in the movie....

Rock guy and Johnny Storm are talking about Rock Guy's girlfriend...Johnny: "So how do you ahhhh...you know.." (he makes a snappy little hand gesture, we all know what he means). Rock Guy growls and Johnny laughs and says, "Well I just wanted to know what happened if we hear about her getting killed in a rock slide.." Oi Vey.

It wasn't even that funny, but our Jimmy HAD to mention it, "Yes dear, it was funny..hush!" Personally my favorite part was when we dropped Bridget off at home, Jim told him to walk her to the door and thank her parents.. They get out of the truck and she runs off and he's just walking, doh-de-doh, hands in pockets, all embarassed. She had run ahead to get something for him but it was funny to watch. She came back out, handed him a baseball from her recent trip to St. Louis and they exchanged "See ya's" and NO KISS. Argh! I dunno, maybe the three sets of eyes staring from the darkness of the pickup gave them the willies. Buwahahahaha.

Fellowship of the Wheel

2007-07-18T17:34:00.000-07:00

(Prologue: Just so anyone who reads and isn't from Huntsville will understand better... In our hometown there is a sewage treatment center. At that time it consisted of two large tanks full of algae covered rocks. Atop the each tank a two-armed wheel turned, spraying waste water down to the rocks so the algae could naturally filter it as it passed through. Around the tanks were white block retaining walls.)

"Fellowship of the Wheel"

For centuries their pristine whiteness glowed from the field, barely visible from the traveled path. Tree limbs streaked the moonlit sky like scraggly arms, reaching in all directions, grabbing at the inky darkness. The wheels turned in cryptic near-silence, the stillness only broken by the occasional shift of a moss covered stone and gurgle of the black evil that churns beneath the surface. "You must do it," said Kenny Jeffrey to his younger brother, Gary. "Too long have the wheels turned without a master. The old ways are too soon forgotten, you can bring the wheel back into submission, you and your band of cohorts can rule it." The younger brother stared up in a sort of awe for a moment then narrowed his eyes, "Rule it? You think anyone rules it? You're a fool, it can't be done." Kenny sighed and folded his arms, "Perhaps you are not worthy as I thought..perhaps you lack the courage to walk the path of your destiny. Gary's jaws clenched and he shook his head, "I have courage, we all do, you do not understand what you ask. I will call a gathering. We decide as a group."

One by one each nodded his head, each surname accounted for, the gathering had begun. Jeffrey, Box, Johnson, Trammel, Vaughan, Owens, Easterling and Cain. "We can't do, we'll get caught," yelped Trammel. "We never get caught," Cain answered him, the untarnished enthusiam of youth sparkling in his eyes. "It's a risk, but Kenny was adamant that it must be done," Jeffrey said. One by one they agreed and loaded into two trucks, racing through the night toward the white block walls and the Two Wheels. "We will be caught.." Trammel muttered again as the familiar shapes of town gave way to an uneven outline of trees against the black sky.

Puffs of misty breath whirled above the group as they surveyed the alabaster walls, "The Wheel.." one murmured, it didn't matter who, they were all staring and thinking the same thing. The reverent silence was finally broken as one over-anxious Vaughan excitedly stepped onto the wheel, sending the blade deep into the blackness beneath and in a horrifying groan, the wheel stopped. All eyes pivoted toward Vaughan, "Look what you've done!" someone yelled, and he stepped off carefully, willing the wheel to turn again. It did. A sigh of relief sounded from everyone at once and after a few moments of contemplation it was decided that there would have to be an equal distribution of weight on each of the two arms of the wheel. As one arm passed a boy followed, setting himself up opposite the others and on a set count, stepped up onto the arm at the same time as someone else stepped onto the other arm. The wheel slowed for a moment but the turning never stopped and with a triumphant smile, all voices lifted in a gleeful howl.

With victory came confidence and with confidence came mischief. At first they tested two on each side, then three and finally four. The wheel turned and the boys stayed atop it, almost too easily, though no one noticed the oddly uneasy feeling ot the air save Trammel, who paced on the ground, watching them and watching the road. "We'll get caught..we're going to get caught.." "Shut up," one barked, "Look at us..we've done it and no one is here, no one is catching us." Johnson and Cain spied the second tank simultaneously and it was decided that in order to master the Wheels, both must be tried. Down they climbed and toward its walls they strode, Cain and Johnson leading the group. "To the center.." someone murmured then a challenge was laid down as Cain and Johnson hit the wall, climbing up, "Last one on the wheel is a rotten egg!"

One arm passed and they had only the time it took for the other arm to circle around to make it to the center unscathed. They moved across the slimey rocks as fast as their feet could carry them, panting into the night, feeling the inescapable pressure of the second arm slowly creeping toward them. A loud *crack* pierced the quiet and the tormented cries of Johnson and Cain filled the air as a stabalizer bar caught them at the shins, sending them face first toward the rumbling darkness beneath the arms of the great wheel. Their hands stretched forward and slid against the muck and stink and as they struggled against the pull of the abiss the second arm approached, spraying foul liquid at them while they limped toward the wheels center, this wheel would not be ruled as easily as the first, this wheel fought back.

Unaware of their friends' demise, the rest of the group was climbing up, just as Trammel let out a high-pitched warning call. "Someone's here!" "Bull! No one is here, stop your whining!" Trammel didn't give up, his eyes shifted to an intermittent glow of red and he shrieked, "Someone is here, I see the glow of his cigarello!" "He's right, I see it, let's go!" The boys dropped from the wall and ran like banshees to their trucks, startling the horses that were kept on the grounds and as Johnson and Cain crouched in the center of the wheel, clutching their wounded legs, the last thing they heard was the wild thunder of running horses followed by the squall of rubber on road as their friends disappeared toward town. Not to be defeated, Johnson and Cain stood proudly atop the wheel's center, pain making their fists clench, they didn't care. "Are you alright?" "I think..you?" "I think." "We stink." "They left us."

Two trucks screamed to a halt safely in town and the boys looked around, laughing. "We did it, man...we did it!" Almost in unison the realization struck them that they had left two of their companions behind and a sense of dread set in for a brief moment. Then laughter erupted; wild, raucous laughter. Johnson and Cain were already on the ground when the trucks arrived to rescue them and standing there covered in globs of stinking aura from the abiss beneath the turning wheels, they laughed too. "You're not riding with me like that.." said Easterling. "We'll take you to the carwash." After a quick dip in Town Branch, the wet, stinking boys clambered into the back of a truck and took a chilly ride to town where their friends hosed them down with a power sprayer at the carwash. While some would say they were the victims of a prank, an elite few know the truth. They had become part of something bigger than themselves, they had become a part of-- The Fellowship of the Wheel.

Back Again

2007-07-18T17:17:00.001-07:00

Well, I said it would happen and it did. My blog fell by the wayside for a while. It alllll started when they changed our firewall at work and made it impossible for me to access it. Yes, I could and will post from home but how sad is it that I can find more quiet time at work to construct a well thought-out post? Anyway. Let me give you the run down... I ended up having gall bladder surgery in January, it wasn't too bad, I had surgery on Tuesday back to work on Monday. I took pain pills the first night then didn't take any more. I could regale you with my emergency room experiences and all but suffice it to say, I didn't get $1800 worth of help. My anesthesiologist looked like Brad Paisley so it was worth the horrific pain and nasty drain tube I got to take home for two days. I also had a biopsy of my liver because it had a little spot on it but, that came back negative so all in all it was a good result. No more pain. Not from that anyway.

February was issue-free then in March I started feeling bad again and finally in April made myself go to the doctor and found that I had an ovarian cyst and UTI. Oh fun. By May I was doing fine but only two months til my 20 yr class reunion so my dreams of returning a svelte hottie officially went down the drain. I went anyway and had a blast. I saw lots of friends and reconnected with a very important part of my life, I'm so glad I didn't chicken out. Those of you who did, SHAME ON YOU! As a result of that get together, I am posting a short story that was relayed to us by Shelby Johnson, I hope you enjoy..."Fellowship of the Wheel".

It's possible you won't get the full effect if you don't understand what they were doing so.. In our hometown there is a sewage treatment center. At that time it consisted of two cement tanks full of algae covered rocks. Atop the tanks a two-armed wheel turned, spraying waste water down to the rocks so the algae could naturally filter it as it passed through. Now go read, it's pretty funny.

I'll do better, I promise. Just a slight 7 month glitch.

7th Grade Health Class

2006-10-01T20:44:00.001-07:00

So, my oldest son and I walk together, sometimes, and one night during the first week of school our conversation went something like this:

Him, "So when can I start playing stuff on the internet..."
Me, "It will be a while, you guys have plenty of games and things to occupy your free time without adding the internet...it's just not an environment I want you in right now."
Him, "But Colton and Blake play games online..."
Me, "How old are they?"
Him, "Uh...I dunno...fourteen.."
Me, "No..Colton is a senior...he's 17, Blake is a junior, he's 16...remember? So...we'll talk again when you are 16.."
(he gives me the I-know-everything-I'm-13 look and groan)

Him, "Well..if you're worried about me seeing something inappropriate..you should see my health book."
(Stay calm...don't show your teeth...wait..that's for a bear, 13 yr old son and inappropriate pictures...I don't have the rules on this one!)

Me, "Oh...really....like what?"
Him, "Well...You know..you hear about this stuff all your life..."(Yeah all 13 years of it) "And everybody knows that in the 9th grade you have to learn about sex. We just arent ready for it in the 7th grade! No one tells you you're gonna see it...it's supposed to be 9th grade!!"

Me, "Oh..well...you need to learn about your body and how things work.." (Ahhh crap...why am *I* having this talk....where is Jim?!)

Him, "Not in 7th grade I don't...not with pictures!"( Oh wait I remember those pictures...nondescript...drawings..we're ok..)

Me, "Oh..mhmm.."
Him, "You know, the second day of school..and boom...we see....a WOMAN..." "From here..(he gestures to his waist) DOWN...with no clothes...AND..."(there's an and?!) "...it showed her ORGANS..." "AND! A BABY inside her.."

(Yay..prenatal babies and internal organs turn him off, this will be a breeze)

Me, "Well...I see...mhmmmm...is this a mixed class?"
Him, "Yes...boys and girls..."
Me, "Was everyone embarassed and giggling."
Him, "Oh yeah...we had to split into groups then the teacher assigned a chapter of the book which we had to read then report to the class the important parts...we were lucky we got chapter 9...NOT chapter 13.."

(Im so not asking about that)

Me, "Oh...how did you guys do? Was is hard to say all the words and stuff?"
Him, "We did fine..and no..we just all say "privates" except one group that had to say anus..."
Me, "Oh that's a horrible word to have to say out loud, even when you're an adult, no one likes saying that.."
Him, "Oh yeah it was funny..everyone laughed. But I heard that later we'll see...ah..."(and he points to his chest) "THAT...on a woman...with no clothes..."

(wait..they went from 1st to 3rd base..and then going back to 2nd? That's so wrong..)

Me, "Well...you do need to know this stuff...about your hormones and what you are feeling... (NOT THAT YOU FEEL ANYTHING!!! ::cries::) You know girls your age can get pregnant and sometimes it's because they don't know how things work...and why they should not do..things..err..."

(No time to fight the battle between "God said wait...that's all you need to know" and actually explaining things...why..meeeee)

Him, "Wow..I mean I know how it happens...I just didnt know girls my age could have babies.."

(He knows how?!?!)

Me, "Oh did you hear from your friends? THe how part..?"
Him, "Yep....you hear all sorts of things on the bus.."
Me, "Well, they might not be right, that's why it's good to have a book..and a class...I liked books...hated talking about it. Not that I hate talking about it now!"

(Ok that's a borderline lie.. I don't exactly love it either...)

Him, "Yeah...hmmm.."
Me, "If you have questions you can ask me or your dad.." (You're a boy, ask your father!)
Him, "Yeah....but all those pictures.."
Me, "Well you're not supposed to stare at them.."
Him, "But...sometimes I just can't help it.."
Me, "Don't stare at your book.."
Him, "Okay..."

Thankfully the topic shifted and I lived to tell about it. Not a week later he brings in the mail and says to his dad, "There's something on the bottom no kid should see.." It's a Victoria's Secret postcard with a nearly-naked angel girl in a bra and panties..with face glitter and a pout..."Please dear Lord, keep him in his bubble of innocense until...well...I'll let you know when I'm ready."

Oi Vey.

Before I Get In Trouble

2006-09-27T06:33:00.000-07:00

It's been a month so.....

A Day In The Life:

Yay for football season! Calvin is in the 5th grade and plays peewee football. They play every Saturday morning, practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, have a conference, travel to away games...yes...5th grade. Calvin is a fullback and he is really pretty good, improving with every game in finding the holes his blockers make and once he breaks free he is gonnnnnne...he's so fast, the coach calls him "Jetprop". Now, I'm not altogether sure what that is or how to spell it but with "jet" in the name, I'm pretty sure it has to do with speed. This week we lost a tooth during practice. He runs to the sideline, hands dad the tooth, pulls his helmet up and spits out some blood, rinses with gatorade and goes back out to practice, spitting now and then. We were so proud! He hung right in there spitting blood and everything! Dad told him that the only thing better would have been if it happened during a game, we won't mention that the tooth was a little loose already and he didn't get it KNOCKED out...he wiggled it with his tongue then reached up and pulled.

Jimmy is in the band, regular school band and jazz band. He is in the 7th grade so he plays at the Jr High games when they are at home. So we go to football on Tuesday and Thursday, then Thursday night games, home games on Friday nights for the High School, Saturday morning games, watch college ball on Saturdays, NFL Sunday and Monday...can we say....ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?!?!

Diet...Thing:

Holding steady at 30 lbs gone, which is good but come on! Ok ok, I need to exercise, I know this. But really if I eliminate half my calories (cutting out meat, nothing fried, very little sugar) why on earth am I not losing..why...whyyyyy??? I'll tell you why. God knows if I was skinny, I'd be having a belly button ring, tattoo, hip huggers and halter tops...so...He keeps me plump AND with some sense of decency because you see there are those who wear those things and dress that way when really...they shouldn't...not because it's naughty but because I really think halter tops shouldn't come in size 3X. I mean.. there are just some articles of clothing that should have a limit on the size. Do we really want to see 3X bikinis? Really? No. And hip hugger jeans...where the hips hang over? I think someone should protect people from things like that. OR! Cute little (ok not so little) athletic pants and a tshirt, cropped, with a jacket...only... the bottom of the shirt rests atop a spare-tire-belly-roll-thing...Why? Whyyyyy? So along with my rather curvy figure comes the common sense to NOT expose things no one wants to see.. I can't speak for the cleavage, it has a mind of its own. Teehee!

Ooopsie Daisy

2006-08-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

So, I'm not that old right? Certainly not old enough to have a bad hip. However....

A day in the life:

Sunday morning. I'm not singing today so no pressure. The boys are visiting their mom so it's a lazy morning, just two adults to get ready for church. It's been raining, such a nice sound early in the morning. Jim is rambling on about something and looks back to see me in a little ball at the bottom of the outside steps. Panic is the first reaction and I'm sorta giggling and holding up my hands, "I'm ok I'm ok.." I think the deck steps were slick from the rain, it mighta been some weeds peeking out from under a step.. I honestly don't know. I do know that I slipped, righted myself then slipped again and bounced, yes bounced off the second to the last step onto the ground. I get up, check the dress for tears or dirt, I'm fine, we go to church. I'm not hurt bad, skinned knee, bruised knee, bruised hip, strained wrist, we're good.

Later that day.....

Same sandals...(which I now believe are the culprit) I'm coming down the steps from the kitchen...SWOOSH! Down I go, same hip, same knee, only more straining due to resistance cause dangit, I JUST fell not 10 hours ago! It doesn't matter, gravity and such...down again. So now I have a reinforced bruise on my hip, strained various odd muscles that are used when flailing as one plummets. Now I feel old. I am stiff and sore, my hip hurts, I have a fricken bad gallbladder, AND I can remember Andy Gibb..when he was popular. Poor Andy...

The I-don't-eat-meat Chronicles

Down 26. Whee. The walking has jumpstarted me, it helps that my menu keeps getting smaller every time I am up all night with the GB stabbing me in the back. Don't tell mom, she doesn't have a computer, she doesn't have to know.

That's all for now, my BAD HIP is hurting...hmph!

Editorial Correction!

2006-08-24T07:28:00.000-07:00

I am only 37! Not 38..I need that year back. Good grief, what was I thinking? I guess since Jim is 38, I just had it in my head I am his age, but no! I am younger! Anyhoo..just had to rectify this horrific misinformation!

P.S. Scott is only 35.

Oh brother...

2006-08-23T07:10:00.000-07:00

No nothing horrible happened, but do you have a brother? I do. He is younger than me by two years, though, in our advanced ages of 38 and 36, everyone thinks he's older by looking. I'm not sure if it's the silver that's showing up in his hair or perhaps since he is a preacher, everyone associates age and wisdom with him, either way, it's cool with me. So he emails me, wondering if I'm ever going to update my blog. Hence...

A day (a few actually) in the life:

Ok..check list... Haircuts, new shoes, school supplies, groceries, something fun before school starts, football practice, church, work, more work, overtime at work...

So, haircuts were easy, the boys decided suddenly they are no longer happy to wear their mops of hair that gets in their eyes and requires more showers than they deem necessary. News flash, you're still gonna take a shower but I'll wait til the barber is done to remind them of that.

Shoes. Again, without a hitch really. Shoe carnival was having a buy one get one 1/2 off sale, thankfully Jimmy made a good choice between $65 shoes and $44 shoes.. all things being equal, both were name brands, so we got Nike's and New Balance for a grand total of $60, I was thrilled. Jim and I stared longingly at the adult shoes...and decided some day, we'll get back to school duds too.

School supplies. Last year the list was so long we had to put it on lay away to be able to afford it all. This year was startlingly easier and less expensive. I guess when the school realized that folks were taking out loans to get their kids in school they gave us a break. The children were more than happy to pick out new backpacks and lunchboxes, they'd just prefer not to use them for actual school...though they are nice to have.

Groceries, work, church, work, more work. You know, life is busy. It just is. My house is a wreck at the moment, and has been most of the summer. Two boys home all day alone, it's so blasted hot that by the time evening rolls around, what is left of it, we are so worn out we just figure moving a stack of stuff over so we can sit down is about as much organization as we can handle. If you knew me, reallllly knew me, you'd know, that while I sit there, for my few moments, my brain is reeling with plans of cleaning it all up, I even make lists of how I will accomplish it, unrealistic though they may be, my brain doesn't realize that my body has no intention of cooperating.

Football Practice. Are you ready for some football?! We are. We have new cleats, we have our new football haircut, we have survived a few south-Arkansas-late-summer practices in 100 degree heat and we didn't puke, though we wanted to, lots of other kids did, we wanna play some ball! Calvin is doing well, running fast, thankfully, last year wasn't a fluke. Whee! He hesitates on the hitting part a bit, and...well...during one practice he got nailed by a kid easily twice his size, knocked flat. He layed there a while, crying a little, wind knocked out of him then he got back up and got back in there. Jim said, "When I fell off the roof (another story) I got back on, it took a few minutes, but I got back up there." The coach calls him a good many names that indicate his speed but we like "Jetpack", if they open up a hole for him, he is uncatchable so far.

Church is going well. We have started working on Christmas music in the choir. I will begin working with the Teen Choir on Wednesdays, if we get enough response. The gymnasium is going up according to schedule, so far as I know, we are looking forward to having to completed and in use by the early fall.

Work. Well. It is the busy time, stressful time, though I have been told that this year is much better than years past in regard to organization and preparedness. I am happy about that becuse it is a reflection on me being ready and doing things right. It's not perfect, of course, but now with one year under my belt, I know what I'll change next year. We are teaching over 2000 students via technology, over the entire state from Kingston to Eudora. This is not correspondence classes, these are real time classes offered via Compressed Interactive Video, it's amazing.

So life in general is busy. So is everyone else's I realize but this is my blog so the world revolves around me. I miss my brother, Scott, and his family...Ester, Miriam and Naomi, hello guys, I love you, we all do and we miss you terribly! Oh and yeah, Jim fell off the roof of the house they are building (add-on-garage thing actually), but he fell off the short end, only 8' off the ground, landed on his feet on a 4" wide wall, fell backwards off it and bonked his head and somehow smashed one finger. So he calls me.... "Hey boo boo..." and I'm thinking, ok it's the middle of the morning... Crap..something is wrong. "Did you fall off the roof?" "Yeahhh..." Ok, he's telling me himself so he's not dead and is still capable of speech, good. "Are you ok?" "Yeah I hit my head." "Oh thank God, the hardest part of your body, you'll be fine. Love you. Bye." Hmmm..wonder if I rushed that...

Something fun before school starts: I took a much needed day off and Jim took off an afternoon so we could take the boys to a local water park. This was haircut and school supplies day too so we had an entire day of fun running around stuff.

The Rice Diet Chronicles:

This title is a misnomer. It's more like...The I-don't-eat-meat Chronicles. 22 lbs down. Which is way too slow for my taste. HOWEVER! Because Jimmy opted out of gym to be in the jazz band, we had to sign a waiver that we would ensure he got 45 minutes of exercise per day at home per state regulations. So, I suddenly have time to walk. We did 2 miles in 45 min last night. This should jump start things for me. Thank you God? (be careful what you wish/pray for)

I've got some gall..

2006-07-19T16:36:00.000-07:00

A DAY IN THE LIFE:

You know, I haven't been to a regular doctor for an illness in probably 15 years or more. I had to start my medical career with a gall bladder attack? So last night, I'm sitting here at the computer, and I think to myself...self.. you don't feel good..your side hurts..go to bed..I agree and head that way. I can't get comfortable, I can't really relax, I start sort of rolling around and moaning, Jim wakes up...and this is how it goes.

"What's wrong?"
"I don't know it just hurts." (pant, moan)
"What hurts?"
"My side..and back..my stomach.."
"What can I do?"
"Nothing.." (More moaning)
"Baby? What is it? Nauseated?"
"No, it just hurts.."
"Ok..in 10 minutes we're going to the hospital."
"NOoo..I dont want to, it's just gas probably.."
"Then we'll figure that out between here and there."
"No..I dont want to.."
(Jim gets dressed)
"Can you stand up?"
"Uh huh.." (wobble)
(Jim dresses me)
(call Uncle Joe to stay with boys)
"Just let me pass out...just let me pass out.."
"No...I can't drive if you pass out.."
(30 minute drive, not fun)
The nurse is all...name...dob...address...etc. Jim is answering I am crying. There is one triage nurse who then is to get my vitals and "triage" me.. but she is busy and there is one ahead of me..so we wait..I am crawling all over the chair, moaning, scaring other patients, Jim is becoming less patient by the second. She finally gets to me, I answer what I can, in between squeals and moans, and she puts the BP cuff on me, which won't work. I am writhing too much to get a good reading. She keeps saying, "Now...hold still..we have to have this before you can go back to the back.." Jim says.... "Ok, why don't you get one of those cuffs and a steth and do it the old fashoined way...like a doctor would.." She is tolerant but annoyed, and tells him she can't she doesnt have that kind of equipment. He says, "Well something else needs to happen this isn't working.." She decides they can BP me in the back. I go back to waiting, in front of the magical doors to the "back". My left hand starts to tingle, he tells them, they nod. We wait. FINALLY...a cutiepie nurse guy comes and gets me. He is very nice, asks me some questions, a lady doc comes in, orders some pain meds and tests. So cutiepie nurse guy prepares me for an IV...I say, "I hope you're good at that.. " He answers, "I am, considering it's my first day. But I just watched a video so it's fresh on my mind." We all chuckled, he stuck me, took some vital liquids, and sent in the angel with the pain meds.

She said, "Try to breath in through your nose and out your mouth, if you keep that up your hands and feet will start tingling.." I said, "THey are.." She said, "That's because you're about to hyperventilate..I know it hurts, just try to calm down your breathing." Yeah right. Oh..ohhhh.. what was that.. My body sort of lets go of itself and I start moving in slow motion..oh yeahhhhh...drugs. All the tests come back fine, they tell me to see a doc and get an ultrasound and give me an RX in case it happens again. Which I will be needing cause Im not having surgery... like... now. I have stuff to do..it's better right?

So, everyone say a little prayer for my little gall bladder that it will behave...for the next 50 years.

RICE DIET CHRONICLES:

Whatever. 16 lbs total. I want some steak.

It's that time

2006-06-26T21:11:00.000-07:00

A Day In The Life:

Well I'm updating because if I don't the next thing I know I'll be creating a new blog because I've forgotten this one exists. I'm really bad about it, I guess I just think my life is boring and normal..so who cares? I went to work..came home..picked stuff in the garden.. shared with my sister-in-law, whose tomatoes haven't ripened yet (nya!).. fixed supper.. flirted with my husband.. played some online games.. just you know, normal?

The Rice Diet Chronicles:

OI VEY! Down another 2 lbs then up... I'm not giving up, I'm still down a total of 12. It's just annoying. I will be good this week and see if I can jump start it again, good grief. Of course PMS doesn't help so I shouldn't really count too much on losing this week, meh. What's odd, I don't miss meat that much, I miss my vanilla diet coke!

PS: Boys are weird. 'nuff said.

Monday Meh

2006-06-19T13:21:00.000-07:00

A day in the life:

So, we have one child in band camp starting tomorrow. We thought it was Wednesday but oh no, it's tomorrow. We need shot records, doc doesn't have them, thank god, the school does. We also have to pick up the boys from their mother's place of work. This was her assigned weekend and we let them stay overnight Sunday since they are not in school. So Jim had to be late for work to handle all of that, I am taking Jimmy to band camp tomorrow and I don't know what we'll do with Calvin. Maybe I'll take the day off. The rest of the week Jim is at his sister's working so Calvin can go with him. You know you'd think for $140, bandcamp would include lunch.. newp. That went over really well. He isn't staying in the dorms, we couldn't afford that, it was $240 to stay there the partial week. So "commuters" pay extra for food or bring their own. Blah.

While I am contemplating my yucko day, my brother calls me...FROM THE BEACH. I hate him. They are on a trip to Daytona, Fl. for an annual associational meeting. (church stuff) I am happy for them, though, even though I hate them for calling me while their toes are in the sand and they are worrying over having on enough sunscreen.

The Rice Diet Chronicles:

No change. So, 11 lbs in 4 weeks, still a good amount. Not what I had hoped but, I'm hitting it harder this week, more hunger, less "Oooh! I can eat that!"

Where does the time go..

2006-06-12T08:46:00.000-07:00

A day in the life:

Friday evening, mad dash from work to wedding rehearsal. Music in hand, I've practiced, it goes well. Oh by the way, we're not using a CD for prelude music...Erf. Ok. I have stuff, no problem. So I get home and spend most of the evening sorting out songs and I realized this. I need new music. I have not bought any wedding-style piano music in ages. Like...the 90's. So, the couple gets a mix of classical music and "classic" love songs. Thankfully, on their own CD some older music was listed, frankly, I don't think the crowd really heard me, the constant buzz of noise almost drowned me out.

Saturday morning we slept in until about 8:30, yes that is "sleeping in", Jim says I am corrupting him, he is normally up by 6:45, 7:00 at the latest. Muwahahaha! I worked on music, the children played, then we went up to Jim's dad's house to go through some old boxes of things that were his mother's. She crocheted and made beautiful runners, doilies, table cloths, even a bedspread. We also went through his boxes of "stuff" from pre-Saudi Arabia and some military stuff. He had pictures of himself from when he was over there so I got to see those and we found a lot of his official paperwork so it was nice, like reading a chapter of his life I hadn't seen before. The wedding was at 2:00 and I wanted to be there by 1:15-ish so after lunch we were all in a rush getting ready. We made it on time and the wedding went off beautifully. The music went fine despite the "oldies" I ended up playing. (Endless Love, I Don't Know Much, Because You Loved Me)

We left the church and headed to the family reunion, 2 hours away, grabbed a snack on the way, got there around 5:00. Jim and the boys got to meet some of my dad's family they'd never met, my two aunts, an uncle and a couple of cousins. We stayed a few hours then headed home, dragged in around 10:00, off to bed to be bright eyed and bushy tailed for church. I sang yesterday and once I got to church found out they needed me to play the piano for worship as well. I've done this all my life, been the pianist at two churches but! this church is new, there are 250+ folks on Sunday mornings and their normal pianist is amazing. So I felt all scatter-brained but it went fine, everyone appreciated me filling in for her. Rush home, feed children, change clothes, back to church to prepare for a bridal shower. I fixed the punch, cleaned up my mess, gave instructions to the servers on how to mix more of it up, raced to Wal-Mart to get groceries, got home in time to put up the perishables and had to be back at choir practice, then night church. We had business meeting last night and voted to build a gymnasium/family life center, yay! It will be wonderful. I practiced with a group of ladies afterwards, we are singing a song next week acapella, finally dragged home around..8:30? Quick dinner, boys want a friend to spend the night, snacks for children, quick trip online to check emails and stuff, dropped in bed at 11:00 and here I am at work. Where did my weekend go?

Heee!

The Rice Diet Chronicles:

11 lbs gone. Yes, 11 in 3 weeks. I am keeping my fingers crossed that it continues.

In the beginning....

2006-06-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

Jana created a blog. She neglected it and forgot about it. She created another one, and a third, all of which are now compost in the vast field of forgotton web postings that strategically sucks the life out of the internet super highway and slows us all down. Sorry. Let us hope this one does not follow.

A day in the life:

So, I'm playing the piano for a wedding this weekend and we had a pre-rehearsal last night so I could work with the singer. I had a sneaking suspicion he would need the song in another key than it was written and I was right. Now, for a lot of musicians this isn't a problem but for me it is. Some songs I can transpose and chord, no problem but this one has a lot of accompaniment that is not chorded..finger work, I need the notes, it's not slow. So, I decided to re-write the music in the key he needs, which I can do but it's time consuming. I happened to remember a place called MusicNotes.com that puts out sheet music and even transposes it and they had the song. Wheee! Life is good.

Rice Diet Chronicles:

Starting Weight: Yeah right...

What are you insane? There will be no numbers revealed until I feel good about how much I've lost. What I will tell you is this. The diet seems to be working. And, at some point I'll be posting some pictures. Maybe even one of me. Haha. Jim is being so sweet and supportive. He is a snacker usually. Cookies, chips, soda...he's trim and muscled from his carpentry and house building.. but for me, he's stopped eating cookies and switched to healthy cereal for a snack. I've not had sugar or meat and very little salt for 2 weeks now and he hasn't had any cookies. I do feel pretty good, I'm losing. I have a 20 year class reunion next summer, 'nuf said.

In closing:

It's stormy this morning, I wish I could stay home.