Edited to Add

The man in the background is the bee sting victim.

Front of the girlie's shirt.

I added some wee birdies to the back of the shirt up near the collar.


And just so you know, I looked into those recipes...and they involved making some sort of butter. Butter? Yeah, well whatever...ain't happenin'.

I just heard about a fair that I so would like to go to. It's a bit of a ride AND opening day for the Patriots so it's looking like that won't be happening either.

Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am

And just like that summer vacation is over, school has started and I report to the new job tomorrow.

Labor day weekend was a blur of driving and hockey and fireworks and children. I can barely remember what I was doing and when so here are some highlights in absolutely NO particular order:

Went to our friends house for a last minute gathering and he and his neighbor had a fireworks battle royale which our party totally kicked his lame-o fireworks lighting ass, so that was fun. Our friend, M had purchased hundreds of dollars of fireworks up in New Hampshire, stuff that is probably best handled by professionals and not partially drunk hockey coach attorney types, but whatevah.

We went to cookout at my parent's cabin in Maine (we share 31 acres). While we were there one of the guys took a swig of beer and swallowed a bee. Which promptly caused his throat to start swelling shut. To say we are out in the sticks is kind of putting it mildly, the nearest neighbor is a mile away and if you go in the other direction? No one for many miles as the road turns impassable). His wife and a few others loaded him into a truck and high tailed it to the fire station where he was whisked away by ambulance. He had swallowed some benadryl before he left and by the time he actually got to the hosptial? He was fine. Still, we referred to the incident as a buzzkill. Har-har-har.

Red Sox are playing some good ball.

Hockey has finally started. There was so much drama surrounding the past few weeks (goalies, they pay half price...can they pay full price and skate out? If you could see how many emails this generated....oh my word) I was anxious to just watch the kids skate. Until I went to the rink and started meeting people as "the coach's wife". ugh. But then I watch my boy, who looks so at ease out there and I find myself rethinking my 'ugh' and will probably just sit by myself (or with a select crowd of those I already know). Christ, is that snobbish or what? Oh well, I just want to watch...and enjoy.

Am wanting to try out the recipes *wink wink* that they show on Weeds. Dudes, really, it could be fun.

Am still hooked on embroidery. Just finished a shirt for my girl...pictures to follow.

Okay, apparently it was only "permanent" until my husband fixed it by shutting the t.v. off and turning it on again.

Phew.

My Daughter. A gift that just keeps on giving.

Tonight, while we were out of the room she took a really strong magnet and touched it to the television screen in, like, a smiley face pattern.

How did we know?

Because now there is a big greenish or multi colored PERMANENT smiley face as part of our viewing pleasure. Only you can't really see the smiley face until the screen goes all one color so mostly it looks like patches of green and dark.

Sweet.

• With fingers crossed for a breakdownless day we are heaing to the beach. You're right bb...optimism is key.
  

• When the post office fellow found out my package had been 'en route' from Springfield, Massachusetts for about a week he told me that it was because it was being schlepped across the state in the slowest possible way.

My response: By foot???

His response? Unamused look over the top of his reading glasses.

• I heard from that interviewer from a few posts back. The job is mine. Which means I'll be working four days a week, total. I am ill-equipped for everything this will entail. Except spending the paychecks.

• Must remember to make it over to the boy's school to check the bus schedule. Must remember. Must remember. Also, must stop procrastinating.

A Silver Lining

Well. Let's see.

When it rains it pours. Literally.

The camping trip started off strong...even though on the ride up I had an eerie premonition about car trouble and when I went to get the change out of my cup holder at the toll booth and it was scary hot...I relayed the info to my husband and shrugged it off.

Setting up the tent in ninety degree heat with two kids? Not too bad. Ice cold pool with two wicked awesome waterslides? Perfect. Laughing so hard around the campfire that you fear you may never breath again? All good too. Leaving the tent, foam mattress in tow, to sleep in the back of the 4runner in the middle of the night because you saw a mini-tarantula that escaped from under the flipflop of death? Totally do-able. Especially with a fan. Tubing down a river with great friends, THE BEST TUBE and a few icy mixed drinks? Perfection.

Hearing a distant rumble of thunder and rolling up the windows of the car on a whim on the way to the bathroom? Smart. Staying in the bathroom during what seemed to be just a passing thunderstorm? Not such a bad decision. Seeing your friend, soaking wet and a bit stressed come walking through the door? Kinda funny. Driving up to the camp store with her to find out that the passing twenty minute thunderstorm was actually a mini-monsoon/cyclone that ripped our tarp from its grommets, collapsed our tent with rainwater, blew a tree down next to our site, blew numerous trees down all over the campground (crushing some trailers in the process) and knocked out power to that entire side of town? Not so great.

And so, with that we packed up our wet things and we all came home. I was planning on staying until Tuesday so it was doubly depressing but y'know...whatever.

The nagging feeling about the car revisited me on the ride home. I sort of knew I couldn't ignore it but figured I'd be able to wait until the kids were back in school before I had to deal with it. I made some tentative plans to go to the beach today. The same beach I was planning to go to this very same week last year. If you can't remember, check the link...this can wait. And why can it wait? Because it IS THE SAME FUCKING STORY.

Well, not exactly the same. There were no bike accidents, no refusal to toast and no loud clunk and I didn't even get as far this time as I did last year. Plus, y'know my car stays in gear (unlike last year when it wouldn't stay in park and they had to ratchet it down to the tow truck). But still. The week before school starts, car trouble, on the way to the beach for a last day of sun and sea glass.

Again.

Cripes.

So, I'm trying to figure the bright side of all of this...more down time at home with the kids? The chance to drive up to Maine with the kids crammed into the back of my husband's extra cab? An excuse not to go shopping for school shoes? The light headed feeling I get knowing that a big car repair bill and the last hockey payment will fall in the same week?

Some Random

• A big shoutout to the gigantic black dodge truck I was following this morning....your awesome tailgating skills made those slow folk actually pull off the road. Love you.

• And to the BFI dumpster truck we got stuck behind a few miles later... What's your nickname? Karma?

• Mr. Interviewer: When the welcome letter to your company tells me I can make personal phone calls, send faxes and order whatever I need and then you also mention that you supply drinks, a gym membership and if it's slow I can browse the internet and chat with my coworker. And I can work, sort of, which ever days I choose... Plus paid holidays (and over a week off at christmas!). Um, pleeeeeese call.

• To the engineer who climbed on top of my chair to get a file (while I was out using the copy machine) and knocked a picture frame off the shelf, shattering glass everywhere: Two weeks later glass shards are STILL falling out of my keyboard. Thankssomuch.

• Hockey season is creeping up on us...husband is head coach this year. I'm not looking forward to hearing the gripes from other parents about playing time and second guessing his decisions. He has ten days to get 14 random kids ready for their first game...oye.

• Am enjoying The Wire. Just finished season one and am a few episodes into season 2. Good stuff.

• Husband's boss was sentenced to 3 1/2 years in federal lockup and fined $150,000, the VP was sentenced to 1 1/2 years and fined $10,000 and the company was fined three million dollars (to be paid in installments). A memo was sent home in his paycheck a few weeks ago where the boss was promising that the company would continue to work and there was new leadership in place. New HONEST leadership I'm assuming, but whatevah. He also said he looks forward to getting out of prison (uh, not even IN yet) and enjoying another thirty years in the construction industry. *shakes head*

I love bullets but they do fuck with the formatting when you try to retrofit them in, don't they?

So nevermind with the bullets.

Have I mentioned how much I hate watching Sox games at the Trop? No? My husband was monkeying with the contrast buttons on the remote until I showed him that the warning track and on deck circles are really not clayish but RED turf and that no we do not need to adjust our tv. Never mind the folding chair setup they've got going on there for the bullpen. And the horrible mike they make Remy use and the silver color of the turf. Yeah, um, never mind all of that.

And doesn't Gagne look like he should be guzzling Yoo-Hoo, eating straight from a pizza box and playing PS3 instead of sucking it up on the mound? Maybe that's where he will be if he doesn't start pitching better...he's just gearing up for his future.

Supposed to be going camping this weekend...but the husband (and kids) were invited on his friend's yacht for a day, y'know to travel over to the Vineyard and hobnob. Well, not really with the hobnobbery but seriously, a yacht with bedrooms and bathrooms (PLURAL!). His wife isn't going so it's just the men and kids. The boy has visions of butlers, the husband has visions of beers and steaks...but they are just that - visions. Because we're heading up to New Hampshire, sleeping on the ground in our tent with two rooms (PLURAL!) and walking to the bathrooms (PLURAL!). Such luxuries await.

The 'broidery bug. It has bitten.

And now I'm seriously cursing myself for never learning how to sew. Not that I can't learn. But I am sewing machineless and even if I did have one...I don't even have a place to sew. Is it wrong to move one of the kids into the pop-up camper? Yeah? Thought so.

The boy, seeing my delight in making the girlie a book bag for the library, immediately asked for his own. He's a ten year old boy with a huge love of sports and outdoorsy stuff. No cute puppies, spaceships or flowers for this kid. Which, damn, is what I really want to do.

I am also fairly patternless. I mean, I don't have any books or anything...except for one and there are no hockey playing owls (or whatever is sporty and naturey) in them. I was at some store or other, perusing the threads and looking at some patterns and I came across something I thought he might like. Out of the eight or so choices he picked the fish:

I have to say... not crazy about the fish choice but it's his bag, not mine and I have a feeling that he's going to be getting the least benefit out of my new found love of stitching. Please excuse the lack of ironing.

Close up of the cattails. Did you know you can eat the stems and use the inside of the fuzzy brown part to line your clothes if you were say, stuck in the Canadian wilderness? Also, it's flammable. So says Les Stroud.

Dragonfly about to meet his untimely death.

The reverse side...the boy's name is edited out (that is NOT some jumbly mess of stitching below the pocket thankyouverymuch). I threw in some pine trees for good measure.

Star darn. I love this stitch.

And there you have it. Project Numero dos.

TFHIM. M?!?!? Yes, M.*

My boy, a slave to hockey fashion, had outgrown last year's skates. Last year's very, very nice skates. He's got feet that are all flatish and kind of wide (which has earned him the endearing nickname of Paddlefoot) and has trouble fitting into a lot of skates. My problem was this: How do I know the difference between a truthful "it doesn't fit" and a lieful "it doesn't fit"? The lie based on not liking the particular color/brand/blade style/lacing. Picky much?

The hour long drive to Mecca, a.k.a. Pure Hockey, was for a HUGE sale...a sale that didn't include many college age, hockey playing employees to help with the skate fitting... and ended up being a huge success. If you consider skates that are a half size too big (according to my husband this. is. an. ISSUE. - which he punctuated with at least two sighs and one shake of the head) a success.

Parking area for the hockey sale - A local cow farm.

The week just flew by... a week long hockey clinic on the Cape every night, work, sleepovers, Vacation Bible School for the girlie (I know, I KNOW) and plus...my first blog meet-up.

Okay, so the pictures suck and I have virtually NONE of the adults but Jen was here! With Adam, Connor & Megan. On Monday, I was nervous...first meet-up, I'm bound to be a disappointment, ACK! must clean the house, she doesn't like sarcasm...that's my main form of communication - she will hate me, will the kids get along?

But Tuesday, after I talked to her and knew they were on their way I remembered that Jen was one of the first people to ever comment here and that we've "known" each other for three years now. And that, out of the many bloggers I've read over the last three years, it seemed to me that her site stays very true to who she really is. She's down to earth, with two beautiful kiddos (even more beautiful in person, just so you know) and a great husband, y'know...like you read about.

So, while they were enjoying their family trip to the shores of Massachusetts, they came by for the day. I won't pretend there isn't something a bit surreal about meeting people you already sort of know because there totally is but somehow they all were so familiar that it was easy. Jen & Adam? Couldn't be any nicer. Really. And their kids? SO well behaved and completely adorable. The kids played (except for my boy who had a friend over and pretty much kept his own counsel) and swam and played and swam. We talked and time flew by and too soon they had to go. After they left, I hoped she didn't think I was a spaz (because I have those tendencies) but I realized that the old blog cliche is true....it would be nice if they lived closer.

I dragged Jen away from her family on Thursday night for a drink and some mexican (just what everyone wants to eat when they visit the ocean) munchies. We talked about blogs, gossiped not at all (disappointingly true) and when we tried to figure out the time, found we were off...by a long shot. Whoops.

They stopped by on their way home Friday, my kids were elsewhere (the aforementioned VBS & Sleepover) but once Megan climbed into my lap I thought I might keep her. It was a quick visit, a see you later of sorts...as I'm waiting patiently for her return to blogville.

The rest of Friday and all of this weekend seems a blur of children (our and the neighbor's), errands, birthday parties (two for the girlie), a last minute cookout, a fishing trip (for the boy), hockey and life in general.

Oh, and did I mention that my blog, which used to be completely top secret (as in my husband didn't know it existed for maybe a year or more) well, I accidentally outed myself to someone I know in real life. Brilliant, I know.

But she had left a comment on another site about how she grew up spending summers on my this pond. So, curious to find out more, I emailed her. Never did I once imagine it would be someone I KNEW. Okay, kind of a lie - There aren't a whole lot of houses on this pond and she crossed my mind as being someone who might actually have a blog but only for a millisecond as I was convinced it was someone from 'the other end'. But no.

She emailed me back and funnily enough I didn't totally freak out. Well, maybe a little but not totally - I recovered nicely after I picked my jaw up off the floor. And her blog? I like it (you would too). Although reading it reminds me that she's reading mine and then I get a bit wiggy still but mostly? I don't care. Not that I'm outing myself to the book club or the hockey/soccer moms. Uh-uh. Small steps, small steps.

*TFHIM = Thank fucking hell it's Monday. This weekend was just chaotic and I'm not at all minding my six hour work day today.

The theme this week is BUSY.

Today we are partaking in an annual pilgrimage. Mecca? For hockey lovers it is.

And to Fairly Odd Mother: Lose his teeth? Again?!? Hopefully you didn't jinx him. Because if you did - I know where to find you, well...on weekends and 95 degree days anyway.

And to Anonymous: The bonding's only for protection, to keep the tooth alive (it would die off easier with the root and dentin exposed, plus he's got a bonus added risk of infection) - it's temporary but has to last for at least four more months. Once the nerve is exposed the root canal is pretty much a gimmie. He's braver than I give him credit for... I know I'd be scared if I were him.

And to everyone: Thanks they do look good, don't they? I still love seeing them.


Askatepurchasing we will go....

There was a dental crisis here last December.

Hockey Stick vs. Teeth.

The hockey stick (an odds on favorite) was the victor and his opponent, my son's two front teeth, exited his mouth shattered and dejected and fell into a storm drainage grate.

There's been more dentist and endodontist visits than I care to count, although my insurance company has been doing a stellar job on that front. (Five endo and Five dental - I think)

The latest and greatest info is that we should wait six more months to let his teeth grow as much as possible before doing the root canals (which, effectively kills the teeth) and to have his exposed dentin & such(read: the inside of your tooth and nerve endings) surfaces rebonded (the original work fell off in June).

And so:

December: The day after, before the dentist visit.

Yesterday: Before the rebonding thing

Yesterday, after the dentist's office.

I almost cried. He just looked, so familiar to me, I felt like I recognized that smile.

Crafty I am not. I can't paint or draw, I can't sew (although that's inching it's way up my list of things I'd like to learn) or polymer clay or knit much more than simple scarves and hats. I certainly do NOT scrapbook and my card making career took a serious nosedive after I made, like, thirty identical invitatations to my sister in law's baby shower. It was kind of boring and sort of pricey. Although I do still love the paper products.

Anyhow...I think I've found it. The cross stitch book mark sort of got me started, I loved the sentiment but really.... a gazillion tiny little x's are so not my style. Then I made my girl a book mark and then one for the boy. Hers was easy peasy with some flowers and his was a test of my new skills with his hockey number, a hockey stick and some arrows (he's been going to archery).

I've been lurking over here for months now and that site is like a cool drink of water. My blood pressure and pulse probably drop by 20% every morning when I visit. She posted a picture of some embroidery that she's done and since then I've been hooked.

And so, I'm debuting my first real completed USABLE (bookmarks aside) project. A library bag for the daughter. It has her name embroidered in yellow on the flowery/camo side but it's been blacked out. And the big camo square is a pocket for her library card. Awwwww.

The boy's bag, which I'm betting he won't even USE, is in progress. The satin stitch isn't quite as vexing as it was during the Dog Bone Debacle of 2007.

So for now, I'm loving it. And you, faithful internet readers, will get to share the joy. Every. Single. Time. I. Finish. Something. Because I? Hardly finish anything.

A short note

My dearest liver,

I want to thank you. I know I've been remiss in your care and you've been nothing but patient and kind all the while silently soldiering on. It's not easy to be in an abusive relationship when you cannot escape (well, maybe with my organ donor card) but I'll do better to understand your needs, to not take advantage.

But those days we've shared together, those Mike's Lemonades in the sun at the beach and those scrumptious margaritas at a favorite restaurant...they were worth all the pain, wouldn't you say? You've only got to buck up for a few more weeks, we're at the halfway point of summer and soon the weekends will be filled with ice rinks and hot cocoa (well, maybe some Bailey's too but just a wee bit. I swear. And no, my fingers aren't crossed. Well alright, they are - but this whole alcohol thing is your gig, isn't it?)

So basically, I just wanted to say thanks. For putting up with me when I know it hasn't been easy. I'm giving you the next few days off, enjoy yourself...store some glucose, filter some proteins...you've earned it.

*hiccup*
Jenny

Second Verse, Same as the First

Some good friends are renting a cottage here so we're off, for the second day, to enjoy some boogie boarding, beach gear schlepping and most excellent hospitality.


And if you think I have it too good...what'll be in the back of my mind? The owner of the husband's company is being sentenced to federal prison in two weeks, a hundred employees went down to four day work weeks, they lost a multi million dollar job earlier this week and now there's talk of a massive layoff. In August! Huzzah! See, karma's biting me in the ass even before I pack the cooler.

Training camp opens this week.

My Fantasy Team is set. Check out that lineup - WooT!

My grieving over the loss of Asante isn't quite complete. He'll be kicking himself come SuperBowl Sunday, no doubt.

And when cold weather brings this

and this

I'm ready for summer to end.

Not really, but seriously - playoff baseball and Patriot's football? Sounds like heaven to me.

I can't promise there won't be spoilers in the comments

9:15 p.m. - finally, kids are snoozing.

2:21 a.m. - page 482. Crying. I was right, unable to put it down.

4:28 a.m. - finished.

Brain still whirring, I think I fell asleep around five a.m. anxious to hear what others are thinking.

Woke at eight fifteen, wondering who else has finished it. Wondering how, if you have it, you could NOT have finished it.

Patience - a virtue I totally do NOT have

The stars were aligned for a perfect weekend with my dear friend Harry. I cleared my slate for the book, to be delivered on Saturday by 7 p.m. I could read all night, I WOULD read all night, couldn’t imagine how I could put it down.

Then I get the first email, from Amazon…USPS shipping it says. Um, no. The postman doesn’t deliver packages to my doorstep…they’ll hold it at the post office, which in this small town is CLOSED on Saturdays. I call myself (see Amazon’s help section for more on this feature) and Brian answers. Brian, and I have to say I was extra happy about this – was not from Delhi – and I could understand every blessed word. Even when the blessed words were telling me that there was no way to specify UPS shipping, that the package was already on its way but that he’d refund me the shipping charge. Damn Brian.

Hold on, what’s this? Another email from Amazon…telling me my package has shipped via UPS and click here to check the status. Never mind that the status checker just clicked me over to Amazon where it said it was being “processed”. Never mind, never mind, never mind. I will ignore what Brian has told me and the suspicious lack of tracking info.

Friday comes. Maine or no Maine? Harry would wait for me. Especially if I spent my weekend in a world devoid of cable, internet and radio. Well, unless they blurted something out during the Red Sox radio broadcast, I’d be safe. And the Sox played again on Sunday afternoon, leaving me free to read and not be sucked in by this new and improved Julio Lugo.

I arrive home, anxiously scouting around the kitchen…hmm, cordless phone, takeout menu, hardened papier mache balloons. No box. I wonder if my husband has placed it reverently on my bed. My husband? Not likely, but one can never be too sure. I jog up the stairs. Nothing. Back to the kitchen and then I see the card. The card from the Post Office with the “Available for pick up on Monday” box checked. Monday when I have to work until seven p.m.

Grr.

I check Surviving Grady this morning. Super. Cancer survivor Jon Lester was called up and is the starting pitcher tonight. Can he hold off his triumphant return for just one more evening…pulleeeeze? No? The world DOESN’T revolve around me? Yeah, well, blahblahblah.

I renig on my vow to remain internet celibate. I visit the blogroll and find little mention of Potter with the exception of Babelbabe who has me nearly dying because the body count is so large she has lost track.

Five hours until I can kiss my little cretins goodnight.

I'm also missing my fantasy football draft.

First we're heading here.

I mean, wand-making; taking your picture with Fang; Facial Transfigurations?

How could we resist?

And then I'm WE'RE heading up to Maine. The kids and I, with my parents, to their cabin. It's mostly borne of guilt, the kids want me to go - my mom thinks I've been so wanting to go but just unable to get away (she actually said "Good for you!" when I told her I was coming along - as if it's been killing me not to be there) and so, I'm going. And if you don't think guilt is a powerful motivator just remember I'm leaving Mr. Potter unopened until I return on Sunday.

That, my friends, is dedication to one's family. And guilt. Okay, and a smidge of love too.

I will not return to the internet until after I finish book seven. I have visions of spoilers, lurking unannounced at every turn.

My ten year old son just opened his Tooth Tunes toothbrush (that he got for Easter) and said...

Look there's a speaker. The music doesn't really come out of your teeth?!?!

Please, MENSA just keep your application, I think he's all set.

TGIM

Night one:
I made a last minute decision to attend a book group meeting. It was Thursday, I had just gone for a swim and I figured, what the hell - I'll only be an hour or two, no one will stay late and I love rehashing the book with some different opinions.

I pull in, there's only one extra car... I'm hoping I have the right house, hoping that a few more people will show up as the hostess is newish to the group and I don't know her that well. Well, there's only four of us total and we proceed to discuss the book for about ten, maybe fifteen minutes.

I got home at TWO a.m. - I've no idea how it got to be 1:45 and why the hostess didn't do a 'stand up and yawn' around midnight, but she didn't and we stayed and stayed and talked and talked. A good time but I was having a friend and her kids over on Friday and I knew I'd be paying for it.

Night Two:
The friends arrived at 10:30 a.m. and left, when I did, at 6:45 p.m. We swam, we grilled, we margaritad.

I was yawning preeeety much constantly by 6:30 so I stuck to caffeine while SP and I were enjoying some pre-Potter munchies. The movie was good and darkish, much like the book. Too bad the acting is just meh. Well, with the exception of Alan Rickman. Could anyone else be Snape? Ever? No. And Bellatrix...looking forward to more of Bellatrix in the HBP movie. There were a lot of shortcuts, probably most of them necessary but as I had just reread the book I still felt a bit gypped. Still, I was glad I saw it and even happier that there's only one week until Book 7. Did I mention the movie started at 10:45 p.m.? Home by 1:46 a.m. Yawn.

Night Three:
I can only remember that we took the kids fishing in the evening and my plans for their 8 p.m. bedtime fell by the wayside. After that I worked on finishing up my daughter's new library/knitting/polly pocket bag. She wanted a dog embroidered on it so I set to work because it was the only thing I had left to do and I really wanted it done. So, because their bedtime was more like 9:30 p.m. and I'm not the speediest of embroiderers (damn you, satin stitch!) I was up until two a.m. Again.


Night Four:
Passed out at 8 p.m. in the girlie's bed and slept until 8:30 this morning.


Lamest post ending. Ever. Lamest post by Jenny. Ever.

Sorry, it's Monday.

My Late Eight and Eight More - Actually Ten More Because I Can't Do the New Math

Sarah Louise tagged me awhile back and I've been laaazy about posting. Really, really lazy. So here's my 8.

1. My favorite quick breakfast? An english muffin with a smidge of butter, some peanut butter and cottage cheese with chives.

2. I forgot my three year blogiversary. Is that really what it's called? Blogiversary?

3. I love where I live and don't ever seriously consider selling. But every once in awhile, for a day or two, I get obsessed with the Maine real estate scene, half convincing myself I would move there if the husband could find a reasonable job.

4. I am so NOT digging those french manicured toe nails.

5. I totally love video games and I suck at each and every one of them. I've only ever beaten the Sims games for my gameboy. Usually what happens is they get hard and then I quit playing. Which is why I like the Sims and Harvest Moon. But then, if I don't suck I just lose interest. Oh, wait. I beat the Little Mermaid game on my Sega about fifteen years ago. How's that for retahded. That I actually remember beating this game but I can't remember my kid's first words. Nice.

6. I love a new box of crayons or colored pencils.

7. Am going to see the Harry Potter movie this weekend. It better be a damn sight better than #1, #2 and #4. Since I've only like The Prisoner of Azkaban so far, I don't have super high hopes for this one but maybe that way I won't be disappointed. But the book? I. Cannot. Wait.

8. I have a sick old lady crush on Phil of the Future

And Oh My Christ. Blackbird has tagged me too. Eight more? We'll see.

9. I have an insane aversion to hair and all things teeth. Now, I still go to the dentist and the hairdresser but am completely skeeved out by any talk of scraping, the whole root canal issue for the boy gives me the chills and the hair on the floor of the salon? Almost dry heaves.

10. I stopped wearing a watch a few years ago and my digital clock in the car has never worked (well, not true - it usually comes back to life for a few weeks each winter and as an aside...WTF?) and I've become really good at knowing what time it is anyway.

11. I am embarrassed that I actually think that's a skill. Would I make the lamest talent show performer ever? Um, yes.

12. When I was a kid I wanted to be on Sesame Street in the worst way.

13. I wish I could sing. Or type. I typed sign four fucking times before I got it right.

14. I love the smell of coconut.

15. I get all anxious now over the stupidest of things these days. Like planning to go camping or even out for the day...not that I worry about what could go wrong more like I worry about every available possibility (can't forget the camera, grab a sweatshirt it could be cold, bring the kite maybe it'll be windy, put a book in the car you might want to read) - I'm driving myself batty.

16. I always lose one earring. Unless I hate the earrings.

17. Last time I checked I still had a scented magic marker I stole from CCD, it smells like peppermint. And I've had it for like 20 years, at least. I got to quit CCD when they wouldn't confirm me so it had to be before I was 15. Stealing from a church...what a sweetheart.

18. My car needs to be vacuumed.

Not At All Uplifting

This was the longest 'not really a vacation' week for me ever. I'm a bit concerned as we've got alot more summer left and the kids have been gold medal winners in the Summer Bickerlympics.

They have effectively been banned from TV and computer privileges. When they stop the sniping they may, MAY get reinstated. We do let them watch, on occasion, if we're watching something they might be interested in...it usually ends up being a thirty minute show (Dirty Jobs or How It's Made or some other Discovery Channel thing) sometime during the day. I save Weeds for after their bedtime.

The 4th seems like like forever ago. We went to the cheesiest fireworks display in the next town over, I think it was maybe a few nights before the forth. At least they were close by and there was no traffic. Which probably explains the previously mentioned cheesiness.

The rest of the week is kind of foggy

(literally)

... there was a cookout or two, a trip to New Hampshire, some thunderstorm watching (click the top picture for a lightening bolt), a trip to the beach and I'm sure a few other things.

all I know is, I. Am. Exhausted.

I feel more like an unpaid babysitter than a mother. An unpaid babysitter that can't even go to the bathroom or talk on the phone (even my minute and a half conversations have been too long) without either A. listening to a soon to be argument or B. worrying that they are arguing, just too quietly for me to hear. Choice B is usually not justified, but now I'm a bit gun-shy and am busy thinking the worst. I find that I cannot wait to go to work, the grocery store...anywhere. And I hate it, my stomach actually hurts just from typing that out. I didn't want my summer to be like this and I feel like a colossal failure on top of it because, y'know, why can't they just be nice to each other? At this point I don't even require nice, just mere tolerance of each other's breathing patterns would be acceptable. Even this lowering of my standards has me depressed.

Two hours until blast off.

It's been decided...I will NOT be going to Maine this time. The kids will go and enjoy some quality grandparenting. I will enjoy some quality yard sailing, library book sailing and lunch(ish) with a friend and her very cute tot.

Oh, and maybe some embroidery too...because look - I've been teaching myself...



I figured I'd start with bookmarks because 1. I'm not into those country cross stitch type of things and that's the only pattern books I could find at my library without doing a search and order from other libraries and 2. They're quick. The daisy bookmark only took an hour because I had no idea how to do either the lasy daisy or that cross knot stitch before I started it.

I stitch witch some lengths of ribbon to the back to cover the stitching and make it less bendy.

This one, however, took a few nights - what with the counting stitches and stuff.

I couldn't resist this one. I saw it online a year or so ago and it's been kicking around the bookmarked sites for awhile, just begging to be made. My husband was all horrified "What if the kids see??". I'm thinking, that's exactly who SHOULD see it. But of course they won't and I will continue the never ending cycle of dive watching, popsicle wrapper cutting and water balloon making. But it will make me smile anyway. And I can hold it up for my husband to see after the umpteenth interruption of "Did you see that *insert Red Sox play here*?"


My girl has a fly phobia. She goes ballistic if there's one around. She can't concentrate and it takes all of her might to sit still. There was one in the house the other day (you would think the correlation of open door = fly welcome mat would be some actual incentive to SHUT THE DOOR, but no.) and this is how she ate her breakfast. I didn't tell her that the fly could actually fit through those holes. Why take all the fun out of it?

Maybe I should get one of those poison food tester people too

My parents have just, in the past month or so, decided that they’d like to spend some actual time with the kids. This is kind of new for me, as they are not the type of grandparents volunteering to babysit/take them to a movie/attend any sporting events or even visit with us to just hang out and watch the kids in the lake or something.

Lately there’s been an offer or two for ice cream and when the husband went up to Maine, they must’ve told me a gagillion times just how enjoyable those two little cretins were. And how they were welcome to come up with them sometime.

I sort of brushed it off because, my son is TEN and what’s with the turning over a new leaf thing? Anyhow. My mom called and invited them. They’re supposed to leave Friday evening and will be back by Sunday night. A mere 48 hours.

I am finding, however, that I cannot find an apron with strings like those extenda-dog leashes. I am sort of beside myself with worry about them. For whatever reason if they’re going to Maine with my husband I’m fairly okay (i.e. cannot sleep or truly relax until they arrive in Maine) but for some reason with my parents – aye, yi,yi – I cannot tone down the control freak in me. I jokingly refer to it as Air Force One syndrome. But not in a funny ha-ha way. More in a neurotic, I’ll have an ulcer by Sunday way. Both my kids in one car, without us, heading away.

I'm sort of quiet about my craziness so my husband and kids don't think I'm a complete loon but here, here I can just ramble on. So my husband, unaware of my issues suggested that we go to Maine too. We have no plans, none and it's supposed to be a beautiful weekend and we could tent and bring the dog and have a campfire or seven and just hang out. I would LOVE to say yes but I don't want my parents thinking that we're honing in on their grandparenting time. That I don't, you know, trust them. Which I do trust them. It's the crazies on the highway driving ninety on the Maine Pike that make me nervous.

Phew. I feel better. Not that I've reached any sort of decision but at least the thoughts are ping-ponging around in my head anymore.

In a Word plus some Answers

A meme. Borrowed from Babelbabe.

1. Where is your mobile phone? Car.
2. Relationship? Denial.
3. Your hair? Wet.
4. Work? Busy.
5. Your sister(s)? Step.
6. Your favourite thing? Books.
7. Your dream last night? Camping.
8. Your favourite drink? Dietcoke.
9. Your dream car? MG.
10. The room you're in? Bed.
11. Your shoes? Sneakers.
12. Your fears? Spiders.
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Here.
14. Who did you hang out with this weekend? Family.
15. What are you not good at? Organization.
16. Muffin? MorningGlory.
17. Wish list item? Blender.
18. Where you grew up? Connecticut.
19. The last thing you did? Birdfeeders.
20. What are you wearing? Hat.
21. What are you not wearing? Earrings.
22. Your pet? Panting.
23. Your computer? Slow.
24. Your life? Decent.
25. Your mood? Content.
26. Missing? Dad.
27. What are you thinking about? Thunder.
28. Your car? Dirty.
29. Your kitchen? Clean.
30. Your summer? Lake.
31. Your favourite colour? Green.
32. Last time you laughed? Friday.
33. Last time you cried? Weeks.
34. School? Done.
35. Love? Wishful.

And...

Talk about anticlimactic. The boy goes in for the root canals, the Endo takes xrays and tells us that the teeth are still viable and growing and that he should return in six months. The actual canal will get smaller as he ages and the roots of his teeth will thicken, making the teeth stronger in the long run.

So that was good.

The book I'm reading? Or actually re-reading is I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb. It's the book club choice for next month and while normally I do NOT reread (with the exception of Harry Potter) I find I'm not minding this. I read it years ago, when it was first released and the story takes place in my hometown so there are a ton of little details I'm enjoying.

And awhile back someone asked how my son weaned himself off of the computer and video games. The answer is two-fold. A. A moratorium on any new video game purchases after about Feb/March. If he gets them as birthday gifts, fine but I don't buy anything new when I know the weather will be turning. Why encourage him?

and B. The weather. We live New England where the weather is uncooperative and not enjoyable for quite a few months out of the year. I mean, we all like sledding and skating but we don't tend to eat dinner outside and mow the lawn and explore the woods when it's twenty six degrees and raining. My kids end up with a horrible case of spring/summer fever when all is said and done and it usually results in my daughter swimming in the pond on the first hottish day in April and my boy catching salamanders and nightcrawlers and begging for baseball games.

I have a knot in my stomach as today is the day of the first root canal.

Naturally, it's perfectly sunny and warm and there is no place I'd rather LESS be than in the city, waiting to see if my son freaks out in the endodontist's chair. That being said, the drive to and from will actually take longer than the procedure and it's not until this afternoon.

So, I'm off - with our breakfast, to the pond. The boy had a friend sleep over and they're fishing right now. I've got a 850 page book to read for book club and a lawn chair with my name on it.

Day Two

oh, no. not that day two. just day two of summer vacation, which is almost as bad - but not really.

Last Saturday was IT. The last day of sports related obligations for the year summer next six weeks. But look at that throw in thing the girlie's doing on that ohsowell manicured soccer field. There were like 48 million honey bees in these huge patches of clover - kids were freaking out all over the place. And look! Look at those super attentive boys just waiting to make the play. U6 Soccer is as exciting as watching paint dry but seriously - it's adorable.

And then we went out to dinner here and that was our view from the rooftop deck. Lobster rolls, clam rolls and sunshine. Sublime. If I ever say that I want to move to some place more than thirty minutes from the ocean stage an intervention.
I can just see, in this picture, a glimpse of the young man he's going to be.


And Sunday, Father's Day...yawn. The husband went fishing for twelve hours, in the sun on the ocean. He caught two fish and a bit of a buzz and with entirely too much striped bass we hosted an impromptu cookout for my family. Not pictures of the fish or the sunburned husband...

But I will throw in a picture from Burial Hill because, well, why not? We went back to the seaside town yesterday for some letterboxing and because I wove in some errands with the fun the day was pretty much complaint free and with the exception of the CLOSED best slush place on earth - it was all good.

Plus I let the girlie take some pictures. She seemed to gravitate towards sepia.
An oceanfront playground for Jen. As she will be seeing alot of this place in a few months.

A church for Blackbird.

The brother with his newly purchased camera. I love this lawn mowing gig he's got.

And some gratuitous motherly pride:






Flag Day from Jenny on Vimeo

Some of those parents would call them 'teachable moments' or any assortment of treacly crap.

His former hockey coach would say 'Suck it up, Buttercup'.


They both apply.

We went to the dentist yesterday, even though he swore - as he got off the bus - that his teeth did NOT bother him. They're fine, FINE Mom. Now can I go play baseball?

Of course the dentist didn't have office hours in the nearby office - we had to travel. And be the last appointment of the day (i.e. 45 minute wait time) but such is life. He gets into the chair, the dentist squirts some air on the tooth to dry it out and whammo - the boy goes all snakelike. He was squirming and fighting and then he ripped the cotton thing out of his mouth and sat straight up. The dentist, who specializes in pediatrics but apparently has the patience of a gnat, stepped back and said he was done.

There is no doubt it hurt. None. I have to say, though, I was a little surprised at how snippy the dentist got with us, mostly the son, but I could tell he was judging me based on the boy's minor fit. Whatever, judge away, dentist man. I know my boy has precisely zero pain tolerance - I used to have to pull splinters out while he was asleep because he would kick and flail if I tried any other time. And ripping a bandaid off? You'd have thought I was doing a skin graft.

I do take some responsibility for said wimpiness...over the years, because he used to go so hog wild, I've let him handle things himself a bit more - his usual course of action is ignore, ignore, ignore. And foolishly, I didn't mess with it. But sometimes I'd see him with the tweezers, trying to get at a splinter or something and I'd think there was some light at the end of the tunnel.

Anyway, the boy refused to lay back down and the dentist didn't even try to cajole him. We were told to get into the root canal guy as soon as we could and that the next week will be a world of hurt every time the kid tries to eat something that isn't pretty much room temperature. Never mind if he bangs his tooth and totally exposed nerve on something.

So we left the office and the boy started to cry. I hugged him and told him that he had his chance and made his choice and now has to live with his decision. The entire ride home and all of last night he was kicking himself for not getting it done. The husband and I were the very picture of calm, rational people while we gave him a straw for his drink and cut his lukewarm hotdog into bits. We explained how the short time of kind of intense pain is far less to deal with than one week of drawn out, intermittent but intense pain.

He's completely bummed as today is the last day of school and they're having popsicles (too cold!) and a fiesta in Spanish class with his favorite, tacos (too hot! too crunchy!). I am bummed for him. And this next thing might make me a fairly horrible person - I'll admit that I'm also secretly semi-pleased and totally wondering if this is finally the thing that will make him realize that he does in fact just have to suck it up. Buttercup.

Flag Day

We hope you have enjoyed our flag day presentation and we hope we have taught you a little about the flag of our country.

That's it. The girlie's big stage debut. Today is the big kindergarten flag day celebration - the preparations have been going on for weeks. God Bless America has been burned into my brain. Or one verse of it has, anyway.

My girl is beside herself with flag day giddiness and has dressed herself up especially for the day. A red flag shirt, white shorts with red and blue stars, two red white and blue homemade bead bracelets and a red white and blue headband. She is beyond proud of it and it doesn't look that bad...so who am I to argue?

The boy is unable to bite into any food at all with his front two teeth. He tried bread and butter last night and judging by his reaction - the pain/heebee jeebee feeling must've shot through his mouth. Just before he left for school this morning he admitted that it was 'uncomfortable' and could I make him a lunch he could tear or break into little pieces so he could place it in his mouth, well past those front teeth, and chew with his molars? Poor kid.

3:30 Arrive home to find the messy kitchen that I left and nervous boy on couch.

3:37 Look in boy's mouth to find that the sealant stuff is completely missing. Hello nerve.

3:37:10 Kick self for second guessing and not acting on intuition.

3:38 Call nitrous oxide endodontist - lucky guy - he's on freakin' vacation until next week. On call replacement doesn't use gas. Hate the on call replacement.

3:45 Call dentist. Where I am put on hold. For far too long.

4:13 Hang up. And continue to wait for the dentist to return my call.

4:14 Hug son as stress is eating him up. As if we all don't know the anticipation of pain is usually far worse than the pain itself.

4:25 Reconsider the make your own sundae thing I planned for Friday. Ice cream on a nerve? Probably not a wise choice.

4:55 Wonder how we're going to pay for all of this.

The Day So Far

7:30 a.m. wake up. Bus comes at 7:25.

Pack for a field trip to a beachy/lake place.

It's fifty eight degrees and looks like rain.

7:45 a.m. drive across town, in pajamas so the boy won't miss the trip.

8:24 a.m. Phone call from his school. Which I think is the autocall thing telling us the trip was postponed. I'm in the middle of giving the girlie a bath.

8:30 a.m. Called dentist's office to cancel the boy's appointment for sealants that was to take place later this morning. Had to wait until today because the weather forecast was so iffy for the field trip.

8:35 a.m. Checked voice mail. Surprise it's his teacher. He broke a front tooth. Again!

8:36 a.m. Hang head and wonder if the 8:30 line item would be example of irony. Never sure about that one.

8:38 a.m. Leave message for teacher. As they're already on their way.

8:48 a.m. Report from teacher - he's nervous, not in pain and then I tell her what to look for - to see if the nerve is exposed. She's in her car and will have him call me.

9:09 a.m. Boy calls, no pain - silly accident. What broke was just a part of the sealants that ar covering the formerly exposed nerves. Tell boy to steer clear of popsicles and swimming.

9:14 a.m. Second guess my decision not to go pick him up or at the very least check his teeth.

9:26 a.m. Still second guessing.

9:27 a.m. Must leave for work.

Finding the Loopholes in Child Labor Laws

Amy has posted about this a few times and seeing that I am always ready to give up some sort of chore I thought we'd give it a go.

Once a week, during the summer (and beyond if life doesn't interfere) the chillins will be responsible for planning and cooking a dinner. Nothing too fancy and it's got to be something we like or at the very least be willing to try.

The kids were beside themselves, checking out cookbooks and discussing options - and almost as importantly - not bickering. It was decided that the first time would be a trial run and that homemade pizzas and a salad would be the menu. Well, mostly english muffin pizzas but seeing as I can not stand them, the boy made me a regular crust. The girlie made a salad with rice wine vinegar dressing and far too many tomatoes.

Both were voted as the best salad and pizza consumed in many a months. The boy, as usual, has grand ambitions We'll cook everything for an entire day - breakfast and lunch AND dinner. I know better... his grand ambitions usually end up like the guinea pig or the night crawler business - a chore... and he has been the bonafide genetic recipient of my chore hating gene. You reap what you sow and all of that.

And because we're nice folks we "let" them wash the cars. We're good like that.

So I was suckered into one of those hostess parties. One of those, come on over for a sampling of snacks and some cocktails while you buy stuff and I get some free dip mix parties. I’ve only hosted one other party like this in my life and it was an open house for a local lady that makes her own scrumptious soaps and bath products and that was like ten years ago – which is neither here nor there and now I’m just blabbering. Anyway…with this party you receive a kit to make most of the dips that are served, a bread and a pound cake. Nothing is difficult, but naturally, being prone to shirking all commitments – I totally regretted the decision to hostess.

Fast forward to the Tuesday evening before the party. I’m checking my kit because if I’m not just prone to shirking commitments – I also am a complete misplacer of items. A loser, for lack of a better word. I leave the mixes on the loveseat, on top of my knitting bag, which they promptly slide behind. Eh, whatever, I think – everything’s there, I’ll food shop tomorrow after work and whip up the stuff while the husband plays hockey. It’s the Eh, Whatevers I should watch out for. Every time I think that I should just stop and do just the opposite of Eh, Whatever. Like maybe picking up the bag of mixes and putting them away.

My son comes home from school on Wednesday and calls me.

“There’s white powder all over the living room floor!!”, he says.

Me: ??? Mind racing, What did I leave out?? Flour? Nope. Sugar? Nope. Baby Powder…would the dog eat powder? Nope. Six kilos of fine Columbian cocaine? Hmmm. (As if I’m not kidding).

So I ask if there’s anything else…

“Well”, he says…”your party stuff…”



The dog was apparently unable to resist the beer bread, almond pound cake, garlic, chipolte and onion dips and the key lime cheese cake mix. He destroyed the bags they were in, spread them all over the carpet and licked them until they made a flour like paste that adhered itself to my rug upon drying. Which, then I absent mindedly wet down with rug cleaner because I couldn’t scrape it up. So it was a poison filled paste that had to be shampooed up immediately because as soon as the dog came in the house he’d be licking that mix up until the carpet wore away.

The lady clearly didn’t think I was telling the truth until I jokingly showed her these. The evidence.

When will I learn?

On the Other Hand

While the next two weeks will be crazy busy - it is only two weeks. Then school. is. out.

Rainy Monday is looking like it will turn into Sunny Tuesday.

Both of my kids got much needed haircuts. No more scruffy vagabond look for them.

One last week of Daisy Scouts. And Lacrosse.

My boy is has basically weaned himself off the computer and hasn't played more than an hour or so of any video games in the past two weeks.

And again with the Sunny Tuesday.

The Events Conspiring to Bum Me Out

Rainy Monday.

Nothing of interest happening here.

Mother in Law's birthday today, husband and I have no idea what to give her.

The Sox blew it last night.

These last two weeks of school are shaping up to be the busiest two weeks of the year.

Another coach's wife told me to be careful who I trust this year as there are too many parents with ulterior motives.

Rainy Monday.

Saturday

Well, needless to say - it didn't rain. And it didn't rain yesterday either. So. Still behind on the laundry and vacuuming. It's hard to do crummy old housework when you could be reading outside or watching the kids swim or bike riding at the park or picnicking in the yard.

Plus the girlie and I learned how to finger knit and look...

she made herself a belt. And a bracelet for her teacher. And some long chains for godknowswhat. There's a little knitting group that meets at the library and she wanted to go in the worst way. She was beaming when we walked in and then, to be able to teach her skill to a 12 year old and the knitting guru lady? Over the moon.

Yesterday a bunch of the boy's friends that didn't attend the four day long field trip played hooky and one of them had a small pool party in the morning. Which was all good.

We're fairly good friends with the family and the mom oh so graciously invited the girlie to stay (as she is in afternoon kindergarten and the mom had invited me to stay too) - she was invited to play whiffle ball and pickle in the pool. One of the guys. She is probably half in love with two or three of them by now. One of the boys and yet, soooo much a girl.

We've always had a lady slipper or three growing either in our yard or on the path to the pond. This year there's probably twenty of them. Not sure why I'm telling you all, but that is the whole point of this blog thing, right?

Today I am off to the grocery store, soccer, liquor store, strawberry picking (eh, maybe) and a cookout. It is sunny and I'm not folding clothes. To hell with it.

I've got it bad

During the boy's lacrosse practice I sat in my car with my iPod playing Tessie and other Red Soxish songs while I read the Surviving Grady book. Again. I cry everytime at the end. The stories about families and grandparents and the long, long wait between championships...it gets me every time.

I have a raging case of pennant fever.

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The girlie bought lunch in the cafeteria the other day (first time - big news when you're in kindergarten) - a grilled cheese sandwich, chips, pickles and chocolate cake. Hello, Mr. Sodium. This from a school that has mandated that kids must bring healthy snacks from home...no junk - no cookies, cupcakes, fruit roll ups or chips - stuff like that. And really, I'm okay with that...it's pretty much what we do anyway. But then you go and serve a salt filled lunch and top it off with a piece of cake?

Fools.

And the boy's school? It's in the same district and they sell little debbie cakes and cookies and such to the kids at lunch. And there's no snack restriction. WTF - a little consistency please?

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Am behind on the laundry and the vacuuming. Hope it rains tomorrow.

I did the purse thing awhile back. The bag has changed but the lack of organization remains. It's how I roll.

This weekend was a wee bit AWESOME. There was some Entourage, Rome and Quinceanera watching, some Nevada Barr and E. Annie Proulx reading, some pond raking (nobody likes a leafy bottom), a bit of blog reading and chinese food consumption (much cheaper when you're buying for one).

And then they returned.

The boy had an absolute meltdown. He missed me terribly, he hated me immensely. Such is life. It was all brought on by an onset of 'hey, my friend might invite me over so now going to the Paw Sox with the family is a HORRIBLE idea.' It quickly spiraled downward but there was more weighing on his mind and after a bit of crafty deducement I figured it was the stress of the impending field trip. The impending Four Day field trip. None of his friends were going, he had just been away for two days (and according to my husband, he was saying how much he missed me before they were even north of Boston), his teeth are now needing the root canals...they are starting to hurt, a three hour bus ride - it was all too much.



So to the Paw Sox we went. We left too late, the seats were general admission and were horrible and practically non-existent. We hung at the right field wall ducking foul balls. Can I just say that if, as an adult, you want to hang at the wall - don't knock over kids to get the fouls. Don't. Just duck. Or go somewhere else. There are alot, not ALOT of jerks out there. I'm just sayin'.

And there were fireworks, so that was a bonus.

The turtles are gone, released back into the wild. Still not sure what kind they were...the second one the boy found was even smaller than the first and he wasn't so nice. Kept trying to bite.
Here's the first, larger and nicer, turtle. Not sure why anyone would really like a turtle for a pet...yawn, yawn, yawn. Plus I don't really 'get' animals that could give two shits about their owners. I lump cats in with this classification. Quite possibly the guinea pig too, but at least he doesn't scratch and hiss and he wouldn't pee all over the bed because he was pissed about the color of the sky or some such nonsense.


The boy did NOT leave for the field trip this morning, we called the whole thing off. We kissed the fee goodbye but we were left with a much happier son. A fair trade.

Just got word...

they're staying in Maine for another night.

I'm going to a party where I will only have myself to be responsible for. While in theory it sounds good, I'm wondering if I'll be lonely.

Then again, I think I'm going to pick up some milk so I can eat my breakfast at the pond tomorrow morning. Honey Smacks, sunglasses and a book. Maybe even a swim.

It's seven thirty one.

The family, i.e. the husband and two kiddos, has just left for a twenty four hour jaunt to Maine.

Leaving me to my own devices.

Happy Friday!

Well, you guys.

Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and kind words. It was all very much appreciated over here.

The husband tried to secretly arrange for the families to come over for cake but 1.)Irish Whisper and 2.)My mother in law just doesn't get the 'surprise' part of surprise and she kept saying "So, we'll see you tonight" when I spoke to her earlier in the day.

I got some gift cards, some money, earrings and a wooden plaque that says "I Love Angels" with handpainted flowers. hearts and a winged angel. Yeah, I KNOW but it's from the girlie so it won't be going in the woodstove any time soon.

We have a baby turtle, quite possibly of the snapping variety, that's living in a big rubbermaid container on our kitchen counter. His shell is the size of a nickel. He's completely adorable and just went on his first car ride to the boy's school. We're thinking of raising him up as a pet and trying to train him not to snap. Oh, yeah....no we aren't.

This one is swiped from Blackbird (and Badger).

If I was an hour of the day... I'd be 9:30 a.m. (on a sunny day)
If I was a planet... I'd be Saturn.
If I was a direction... I'd be east.
If I was a piece of furniture... I'd be book shelves.
If I was a liquid... I'd be lemonade.
If I was a sin... I'd be envy.
If I was a rock... I'd be cobblestone.
If I was a tree... I'd be a beech.
If I was a fruit... I'd be a blueberry.
If I was a flower... I'd be a lilac.
If I was a climate... I'd be snowy.
If I was a musical instrument... I'd be a hmmm. acoustic guitar, I guess.
If I was an element... I'd be Water.
If I was a color... I'd be blue.
If I was an animal... I'd be a bear.
If I was a sound... I'd be a canoe paddle slicing through an otherwise silent pond.
If I was music... I'd be that song Brandy.
If I was a music style... I'd be classic rock.
If I was a feeling... I'd be grateful.
If I was a book... I'd be Home Ice by Jack Falla.
If I was a food... I'd be buttered, salted popcorn.
If I was a place... I'd be our pond.
If I was a flavour... I'd be raspberry.
If I was a scent... I'd be freshly mowed lawn.
If I was a word... I'd be "mom".
If I was a verb... I'd be "forget".
If I was an object... I'd be a Patriot's season ticket.
If I was a part of the body... I'd be the eyes.
If I was a facial expression... I'd be a raise of the eyebrows.
If I was a cartoon character... I'd be Velma.
If I was a movie... I'd be On Golden Pond.
If I was a shape... I'd be a circle.
If I was a number... I'd be 2.
If I was a season... I'd be Fall.
If I was a sentence... I'd be "Happy Birthday. To me."

Oops, that was two sentences.

Thanks, Jen for the awesome birthday wish! How 'bout them Sox?!?!

My Sister in Law is doing the Avon Walk this weekend.

If you'd like to donate to a very worthy cause click here.

It's rainy and c-c-c-cold here this weekend - I give these guys alot of credit!

She says she wants them....

Well, it looks like I'll be having my first blogger meet up this weekend.

When I drop my kids off on Amy's doorstep.