Friday, May 29, 2009

Anticipation, Frustration, Obama-Nation

Anticipation: Two weddings, in eight days. e haven't been to a wedding in years (and that one was doomed at the altar, no doubt), and now we've got two. I am looking forward to bringing my camera to both, and also to contributing actual food to the wedding reception for one.

I have received my Food Assignment and I am on it like Paula Deen on a stick of butter. Oooh, yeah.

Frustration: I am NOT getting what I want, on pretty much all fronts, these days. The car is still in the shop, even though they were sure it would be ready yesterday. I keep sending out queries for work and get back, well, the sound of crickets. So far, this week, the dog has peed on my purse, three leather coats, and a carpet. AND YET I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO KILL HIM, or even want to. Hubby's band is defunct, and I have no idea what comes next on that one, so no dancing to slap bass for me anytime soon. I keep telling the Sons to handle their business and my reward is a general sinking feeling that I am becoming an ineffectual nag.

The Beach suggests I get an air horn and striped shirt, for handling all those episodes of Brotherly Love. I think she is a genius. Just gimme that whistle on a string.

About half of our CD collection has been bogarted by a Son, I guess. I keep opening cases and finding nothing. HOW DARE HE MISPLACE GEORGE THOROGOOD? That's just wrong. I may have to toss his room.

On the bright side, the poison ivy seems to be clearing up, Son #1 has been asking my advice on a very sweet project of his own devising, school is almost out and my nail polish is pristine, for once. (Honestly, a successful manicure does lift my mood. I am more girly than I thought, I guess.)

And the Obama-nation?
Well, I just am speechless. We are out of money? Shutting down businesses run by owners who did not contribute to Obama's election? Choosing a Supreme Court justice because she is a Latina? (Hey, maybe she's okay, but her job is to follow the Constitution. Don't need a uterus or a Compelling Personal Story for that.) I haven't been blogging on all this stuff because, well, I don't want to turn into a ranting nutbag, and Dhimmi Carter has that effect on me on a pretty consistent basis.

So, you know, I'll shut up now.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Leaves of Three, Let it Be...More Specific

I swear to you, I look for poison ivy. I avoid it. So WHY am I covered in itchy spots?


Every summer, it happens. The weather warms up, I get all ambitious, and then this.

Honestly, poison ivy should have some sort of alarm or something. I want it to shriek when I come near. Clearly, anything short of that is not warning enough for me.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day, I'm putting the flag out on the front porch, if it doesn't rain.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

I am become Death, the Destroyer of worlds

Or, at least I am to the carpenter bee community.

Son #1 found them in the gazebo this morning and so tonight, as the sun sets, I shall attack them with Raid!

I did give brief consideration to the possibility of letting them live. Carpenter bees are so pudgy and friendly and cute, you know. But by the same token, they are destroying our gazebo, which I love. So, well, tough toenails for the bees.

And, yeah, I figure I can write about the yard all I want, without fear of becoming a Gardening Blog, if I quote the Baghavad Gita.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Cooperation, or Extreme Distaste

We have two cats: littermates.

Generally, that means we have one cat outside, and one inside. It is as if they have coordinated a schedule. Often, they will meet in the doorway, one going out, the other coming in. They'll give each other a quick sniff and go their separate ways.

The way I see it, this can mean one of two things.

Either they cannot stand each other (which is possible, as I get the impression that Ellie is kind of a demanding jerk).

Or, they have taken it upon themselves to guard our perimeter against mice, songbirds, squirrels, koi, snakes, baby bunnies, mummies and other things that require killing, 24/7. This is also a strong possibility, as they both seem to take their jobs very seriously.

It's just one of those situations when I wish I could listen in on their little cat conversations.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

When I die, I am tracking down George Orwell

Because that man was awesome. Truly awesome.

I have always loved Animal Farm and 1984, and recently told Son #2 that he had (HAD! NOW!) to read 1984. I scoured the house because I know we had a copy but it was gone...

Anyway. Found a copy of 1984 on Freecycle, told Son #2 to read it and then promptly holed up in my bedroom with it for the next couple of nights, because I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND I COULD NOT HAND IT OFF.

It's a great book. If you haven't read it yet, please, do not continue suffering. Read it. Love it. Discuss it.

I have probably read it 7 or 8 times, over the past 25 years. And so, well, there are parts of it, the reading of which is almost liturgical, for me. I know what is coming. I relish it. I expect it. It is fulfilling.

But then there is that one scene which sends a chill through me, every time. Did it again, this past week. I am not going to tell you which scene, because Son #2 is still reading.

Yesterday I started reading Burmese Days, another Orwell book but one I'd not read before. I am loving it, too, partially because

(oh geez, here she goes)

it reminds me of Thailand: the scenery, the culture, and the obnoxious attitudes of so many of the foreigners. Can't wait to see how it goes.

Had a great conversation with Fiddlin' Writer, today. She makes me want to write--makes me remember I want to write. Thank God for inspiration.

Oh, and I just fired up the grill for the first time in probably 2 years. Burgers, baby. And char.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Spit out that Chantix!

This weekend I was talking w/Hubby's friend and he told me he just got MS.

From taking Chantix.

Yeah, he was trying to stop smoking because smoking is bad for you, and now he has multiple sclerosis.

Apparently, it is a known, but rare, side-effect.

Or, as he put it, "It's like taking an aspirin that gave me AIDS."

So, um, if you are taking Chantix maybe you want to check that stuff out. Holy crap, you know?

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Aftermath: a guessing game

First of all, yesterday morning I actually thought, "I have nothing to blog. I am getting boring." So, um, Thank You, Universe, for responding with a car accident. Yeah. I will avoid stupid thoughts in future.

Honestly, though, 18 hours later I am thankful that I came out of it with a tender nose and no traffic citation. Could be worse, you know?

Yesterday, within hours of The Accident, Hubby and I went to a benefit concert: he performed. In the car, on the way, he mentioned the accident to all the people with whom he spoke on the phone:

My brother-in-law: the one the Sons say acts like a 9-year-old.
The singer for the band Hubby just quit.
The singer who fired Hubby a couple of bands ago.
A guitarist I've met once before.
The woman who asked Hubby to fill in for the band originally scheduled to perform yesterday.
My mother-in-law.
A huge biker: pretty much everyone is afraid of this guy, at first glance.
A bass player.
Two drummers.
A body shop owner, after hours, at his home.
And a convicted felon.

Every single one of them, their first words were, "Is Christine OK?"

Except for one. Can you guess?

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Ah, crap. The car.

I'm ok, the Other Guy is OK, but the Powerful Mom 5 is in the body shop. Ugh.

Son #2 just made me laugh

He told me that his teacher's husband's name is Moe Lester.

And that Moe Lester is a therapist.

Yup. Molester, the Rapist, has one loooooooonnnnnng row to hoe.

Friday, May 15, 2009

"Inoffensive" is in the ear of the beholder

Today Son #4 and I took a long walk together, mainly just to spend some time out in the sun. I did have a destination in mind: had to pick up a prescription. We walked, talked, observed the sky & clouds & fine weather and interesting new construction and lovely, lush green grass. We reminisced about the extremely adorable kittens he and Son #3 once found on that very route. It was a great walk, a great time with Son #4.


The jewelry store pipes music into the parking lot.

Anne Murray.

Now, should I have any Canadian readers Of A Certain Age, I am sorry. Truly sorry. But it has been 4 hours and I still can hear "Can I Have This Dance (for the rest of my life)"

It makes me want to scream, OK? Or maybe hurl a brick through the window of the jeweler's. Probably not what they were aiming for.

Of course, I wasn't buying jewelry, either, so maybe their clientele just cannot get enough of that sort of thing.

On reflection, I think even if I had enjoyed the particular song blasting the street when I walked by, I think we would all be better off listening to the birds, outside. Sometimes, anyway.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Mixed feelings, oh, yeah, I got 'em

Part of me can understand and even support the "buy Black" movement this couple hopes to launch.

But if I said, "Let's only buy white", would I get that kind of happy coverage? Would I DESERVE that kind of coverage? Of course not. And I say that as someone who once knew just about every white person in the city where I lived (because I was living in Asia at the time) never crossed my mind that I should support white businesses just because they were white.

Ya know why? Because that is racist.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

For Women, Girly-Men, and Others Too Weak for the Navy

Yes, Hubby will look down his fully-caffeinated nose at you, and you will feel Less Than those who take it black & unsweetened & by the gallon. In the slightly toned-down words of Marcellus Wallace, "that's just pride, f-in' with ya. Ya gotta work through that..."

And you can, because you will be happy. Truly, deeply happy. For today, I bring you Frozen Mocha 2009.

Here's how it goes:

After Hubby leaves for work, note the half-pot of coffee. Pour a cup in the blender.
Add a cup of 1% milk.
Chia seeds. (trust me. they are good for you)
A heaping tablespoon of cocoa powder, or raw cacao nibs.
Vanilla. I like a lot of that.
And, in a twist for 2009....

Feed your blender ice cubes, one at a time, unless you have a Vita-Mix like Superblonde. Then, you know, just dump 'em in.

Blennnnnnnd. Thoroughly. It is a Frosty for grown-ups.

You're welcome.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

I'm Going to Hell with Tomato on My Breath

As part of our Mother's Day celebration, the Total Waste of Time Gang saw the new Star Trek movie. We all enjoyed it.

Sons #1 and 4 and I stood on line for popcorn & soda. A few people ahead of us stood a boy with particularly shaggy facial hair. He looked kinda like Wolverine. Son #1 said "Oh my GOD!" under his breath and whipped out his cell phone, to start fake texting. He does that to tell me what is REALLY going on, without tipping off anyone else.

Turns out Wolverine Jr. is a kid from school. A kid who tells everyone he is a dog. He barks at people. Always. It is a story Son #1 has brought up more than once.

"I'll pay you $8 if you make cat noises," he said.

I pointed to the sign taped to the Coke machine: "Free Kittens".

"Look! They're giving away kittens! Meeeeooooowwwwww!"

Son #1 was both horrified and in awe.

"You're worse than I am, Mom!"

Which is probably true.

After the movie I bought one of those upside-down tomato planter things. It is hanging above the deck, where I will see it from the kitchen window so I remember to water it. And I put "water the tomatoes" in my Yahoo calendar. We shall have BLTs, this summer, with T from my own hand.

So, I may be going straight to hell, but at least I'll arrive there with tomato on my breath.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

My Chance to Be 6'2"

Hubby and I went to BJs today, and his membership card had expired so he requested a new one. The clerk took his photo and printed out the card, with MY name on it. So now I have this:I told him I'd carry it so I could tell people it was my ID "from before the surgery".

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Steak: a definition, a recipe, and a travesty

We had some spare filets mignon in the fridge, and this morning Hubby decided to have it with his eggs. He offered some to the decidedly carnivorous Son #3, who (being also a wordy chap) offered his definition of steak: "A slab of meat with garlic on it".

Ah, maternal victory. He has absorbed my steak recipe. Which you want, now, right?

Hubby said, "You are definitely your mother's son. I don't put garlic on steak, I put Worcestershire sauce on it."

I grew up putting garlic on pretty much everything. Parsley, too. Hubby pretty much weaned me off of the parsley (although I enjoy it when I find it) but garlic is not going anywhere.

And who makes the steaks around here? Yeah, me. So what you want on your steak is garlic, and salt, and pepper. And that is it. Happiness ensues.

The travesty?

This morning he cooked a filet mignon in the George Foreman Grill. He says it was good, just seems wrong to put a good cut of meat on that thing.

I'm just sayin'.

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

A Post-Gym Palate Cleanser

Y'all know I love the gym: spin class, man, it is great.

Unfortunately, while I love the motion of spin, the atmosphere leaves me cold.

We're tucked into a small, crowded room in the back of the gym. Lights out. And the music! Good lord. Hip-hop, Miley Cyrus and, today, both "Life Would Suck Without You" and "The Pina Colada Song".

I get out of there and need, in addition to a big bottle of water and something with MEAT in it, a serious musical palate cleanser. Thank God for YouTube.

And Tommy Castro.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Oh, the disappointment: Pig Edition

Son #1 heard a rumor that a student at the next school over has swine flu. "And if they have swine flu there, they'll close all the high schools in the county for TWO WEEKS!"

Naturally, I checked. Looks like the first swine flu case in our state is one county over....close enough to cause rumors, but not so close that the Sons get an automatic vacation.

So sad.

Oh, and to the lady in line at Wal-Mart: When your son walks up to my cart and starts shouting and hitting the poster board I bought Son #2...and your other son puts his box of Whoppers on the belt in the middle of my stuff...and your daughter grabs the pen on the credit card machine and starts pushing random buttons...

YEAH, you need to rein them in a bit.

I think today I was the entertainment/babysitter so you and your friend could hang out and ignore the chaos. The kids sure got a kick out of it, anyway...