Memories...

If I close my eyes tightly enough, I can still see it: my Aunt S's kitchen, circa 1983 or so. There are rustic wooden cabinets, black metal hinges and flooring of questionable origin and installation. It's crowed in there, between adults and kids and random pets.

There's music in the background, faintly playing: Chuck Berry-meets-Hank Williams-meets-Billy Idol...meets accordion. This means that Uncle B is revving up for our annual tradition: old folk songs, hymns, Christmas songs...wherever the mood takes us. This happens sporadically throughout the day, and remains one of my favorite childhood memories. Make no mistake: the ability to play the squeeze box is a gift, not a curse. I miss hearing it.

Mum and Aunt S are bustling around the kitchen, mashing potatoes and squash and turnip. They are de-lumping gravy, slapping hands away from desserts, offering stuffed celery and crackers instead. They alternately dance and laugh, stopping long enough to yell at us kids to 'go outside and play'. The fact that it is -12 outside is lost on them.

We sneak down cellar instead. We may or may not listen to rock 'n' roll, smoke cigarettes (only Billy and Timmy) or play board games. Rather interesting memories involve "Blackie", the black lamb that we fed because he really WAS rejected by the herd (we ate him at Christmas! Aaaah!) - and the time Billy decided that "Peyton Place" made excellent teaching material and read it to us while we waited for lunch to cook. Our mums were NOT happy with this, once they found out. Twenty plus years later, I still find it funny.

Things have changed over the years. The Annual Get Togethers have moved a few miles down the road, from Aunt S's to Billy (now Bill, since he's old) and his wife's house. The house sits at the top of the hill, surrounded by trees and fields. This is exactly where he has always planned to live. I'm not surprised to see that he followed through: stubborn runs deep in my family.

All (or at least most) of the family will be there: Bill and his family, Timmy (now TIM) and his family, my sister Zoozer and her family...Aunt S and Uncle B...maybe more. It likely depends on the weather, since it's WINTER there now.

I can imagine the fun they're having. Chaos, over heated house, kids laughing and yelling. There will be cranberry sauce, watergate salad, stuffed celery, canned goods from family gardens, maybe a homemade mincemeat pie. Bill will alternate between yelling out random historical facts (unrelated to lunch or...well...anything) - and sneaking behind the shed to smoke while "getting more wood for the stove". His wife will roll her eyes, make coffee, and pretend not to notice.

Board games will be produced, coffee will be consumed, laughter will dominate. Football may or may not be watched. The same holds true for any parade that may be on television. At some point in the day, Uncle B will pull out the squeeze box...and it will all begin again. Laughter, warmth, love. Somewhere, hidden within the New Group of Cousins, will hide the rebel. When no one is looking, (s)he will corral the Others, sneak downstairs, and begin the quiet chaos that only kids can create.

Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all.

*sigh*

The Blanket Bundles were a hit at the drop off place; Nooze was cheered on for her very hard work. Not one word was said about uneven lines, sewn over areas or chaotic corners. There were many smiles and sincere thanks instead.

I was caught (by the volunteer) apologizing for the blankets' appearance. She smiled, quietly shook her head, and acknowledged the effort instead. I was grateful for this diversion. This was apparently only the second year of this outreach program, and there are plans to continue for years to come. There is definitely a need.

I never realized how quick I am to apologize for anything less than perfection on Nooze's part. Yet, when other children are involved, I only see the EFFORT. I guess it's normal, but it bothers me anyway.

That would be why, at this moment, Nooze is in the kitchen creating her own chore chart. It is backwards (rules on the right, rather than the left), uneven (squares/lines); the entire list is completely chaotic. She just brought it in for me to see. So, although my brain is screaming "Fix it!", I am simply smiling instead. It is taking everything in me not to correct her spelling of 'vacuum'. It'll be all right, though. She's drawing pictures to go with the list...

In orange highlighter.

Saturday---Updated!*

Nooze and I have managed to change sheets, vacuum, clean bathrooms and moderately dust this morning. She is now in the kitchen, feasting on What She Calls Breakfast. I say this only because *I* do not consider a hamburger bun slathered with sour cream "breakfast". No, we are not starving her. She actually likes it. And yes, I gag every time she eats it. [I used to eat peanut butter and miracle whip sandwiches, so I really shouldn't judge.]

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When the fabric in the dryer completes its cycle, Nooze and I will set out to fashion some of these. I've had fleece on hand to make baby blankets for years, and never got around to it. Nooze is quite excited to create them, as 'babies and kids are homeless, too.' I don't know whether to be thrilled or heartbroken that she knows that.

The baby blankets will likely have uneven seams, with zig-zag and overlay fighting for space. Please know, however, that this is not intentional. The blankets will be created with great glee, great excitement, great wonder. In spite of the need, it gives me joy that we are doing this. All because of an eight year old girl that thought it was an awesome way to spend a Saturday.

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Further proof that it's Pre-Holiday Season? I am making Champagne Salad tonight. (This is also known as The Pink Stuff.) It can only be Full Holiday Season when the Other Two Salads arrive: Green (Watergate) and Orange (I have no idea). That's what happens when I'm assigned to bring "salad" for a pre-holiday meal. I switch from standard garden fare to COLORS, cool whip and cream cheese!

*Yep, that's the Nooze holding the blanket. To the right of the photo, you will see Summer - aka That Frigging Dog. We had to opt for a non-sewed blanket, as I am inept at sewing without my sister close by to fix things.

Still Got It...

I just made my husband - of 13 gazillion years - blush. I don't mean a slight burn on the neck, y'all. I mean the deep purplish red that screams rapidly from the low neck all the way up through to the temples.

At the BREAKFAST TABLE. In front of our daughter.

There's no other way to put it, people. Momma may be old, crippled and graying at the temples, but she still has it.

To say that this brings me joy would be an understatement.

[What did I say? Nothing that an 8 year old couldn't hear...and laugh merrily along.]

For the record, Chachi was laughing right along with us.

All About the Nooze

Today is Nooze's birthday, and she is eight years old. As a result, we decided that today is HER day to pick EVERYTHING that we do.

Did she opt for breakfast in bed? Dinner on fine linen? Dancing under the moonlight? No, no and no.

Instead, she chose the following:

1) Breakfast at The Biscuit Place, where she opted for a BACON BISCUIT COMBO with orange juice...and polished off every bit.

2) Church (Where she was upset that we only attended one service, and that her dad had taken the day off).

3) Pints of Homemade Ice Cream from our favorite Family Owned Ice Cream Place (sour apple sherbet, orange chocolate and Irish cream)

4) Walking the dogs

5) Watching Air Bud on DVD

6) Science Time with Dad (from a kit sent by her Aunt A)

7) Strawberry Cake with cream cheese frosting

8) Dinner at home, consisting of her favorite "rarely eaten" foods: Chicken fries, Mac & Cheese with Bacon, Lima Beans...and fruit cups.

It has been a busy, but fun filled day!

[A look back at Seven...]

Yep, We'll Be There...

In celebration of Nooze's EIGHTH BIRTHDAY, we will be spending Saturday evening at a Toby Mac concert.

Ya gotta love a guy that pulls random people into his videos. This one features other bands (including Family Force Five!), sound techs, a janitor...and a caterer.

[Untitled]

I do my best not to be one of those parents. I don't like braggarts, and wish to avoid becoming what I detest seeing in others. As a result, I try to only mention my daughter in passing, with random updates to friends and family as time permits.

However, there are some things that I simply can't contain inside. This is one of those things. So, if you are not a fan of the random Nooze Brag - On, please feel free to skip this post. I will understand.

I attended a school function with Nooze the other night. It was a thinly veiled, school-wide, non-Halloween/non-religious, candy-corn themed Open-House- slash-parent-teacher conference. I know. It made me tired just to type that.

Nooze walked me around her classroom, giving me a glimpse of how she spends her days. It was rather interesting, to tell the truth. Surprise, surprise...

I finally met with the teacher, just as we were preparing to leave. Although the teacher is younger than I am (by about ten years), I was still struck with the stomach wobbles as I began to talk to her. I asked her, quietly, how Nooze was doing in school...and what I needed to do as a parent to help her out. Her answer, while not surprising on some levels, still floored me on others.

Her teacher grinned. WIDE. She winked at Nooze, patted her on the head, and addressed me.

"Your Nooze is a wonderful student." She cleared her throat quietly, nodded slightly, and continued, "She is also a wonderful person. She is exceedingly kind to the other students, and does her best to include everyone. She is a champion for those that struggle. She excels in almost everything, and is well ahead of the others in her class. Your daughter is doing very well in school. She loves to read, and I'd like you to continue to encourage that."

As a parent, knowing that your child is considered a wonderful student is an out-of-this-world joyride. When the teacher refers to your child as "a wonderful person" and "exceedingly kind to those that struggle"? Wow. I can't begin to express my joy.

We will be spending our afternoon at a local Barnes and Noble. Nooze doesn't know it yet, but that Fairie Series she's been longing to read? It is totally hers.

Thirteen

Thirteen years and nobody's dead.

Happy Anniversary, Chachi.

Uhhh

Nooze just asked why women need to open their legs when babies are born.

I exhaled slowly, and explained that it was a necessary part of childbirth.

She then asked how a woman could have TWINS. Before I could stop myself, I blurted something out about how an egg splits to create two human beings (identical twins) - rather than one.

Now my kid is walking through the house, grasping her thighs tightly with her hands...and glancing at the refrigerator with concern.

Sigh.

I'd keep talking if I thought it would help.

How I Spent My Friday Night

Outside, in gorgeous weather.

For about five hours.

These guys weren't even the headliners. They were, however one of my favorite highlights of the evening.

A surprise appearance by the lead singer of RED made the evening even better.

The Music Builds Tour: Time and money well spent, I promise you.

The Home Stretch

Only three pieces of laminate left to install.

Okay three pieces of laminate and approximately 98 linear feet of quarter round. Nonetheless, my new living room floor ROCKS.

Begone, random stains and foul doggie odor! Farewell, panicked purchases of stain removal and Capture!

I am off to contemplate the cost of installing this in both bedrooms next.

Oh, and to purchase a lifetime supply of Swiffer dry pads (generic) at Ye Olde Dolla Tree.

Over Drive

Terrible Confession Time:

I do not like having time off with my spouse.

I'll wait for y'all to exhale before I continue.

I like vacations. I like trips. I like random hours at the Farmer's Market, bookstores, Asian Food Shopping... You get the picture.

I. Do. NOT. LIKE. EXTENDED. TIME. With. Him.

Why? Well, lessee here. A glimpse at my weekend, beginning with Friday night:

Drove into yard at 6.15 pm. Raced to bathroom (I have a 3 water bottle habit and an hour commute). Changed shirt (not related to bathroom trip). Jumped back into the Magic Mom van for a 20 minute drive to the church to drop off supplies. Dinner at Random Restaurant. ONE AND A HALF HOUR SHOPPING TRIP FOR SALE ITEMS AT HARRIS TEETER. Twenty minute drive home. Now ten pm. Throw Nooze in bed.

Saturday: Up at butt crack of Dawn because Dogs are crying to go out. Am the only one dumb enough to blink at five thirty am; throw dogs outside. Drink three cups of coffee and make breakfast.

Rest of family up by ten am. Run random errands while waiting for local church event (with kid stuff) to open. Go to event too early. Leave. Drive TEN MINUTES to Tarnation and spend ANOTHER ONE AND A HALF HOURS at W*lM*rt to pick up items NOT purchased on sale the night before.

Return to EOTGW, put away groceries. Return to EVENT, stay 4.5 hours. Get sunburned (not supposed to be in sun because of medication; 50 SPF protection scoffed by sun.) Tell spouse at 6.45 "Remember, we have a kid here. It is HOT out, and we have to get up early tomorrow". Get eye rolls from spouse AND child. Am now deemed Mood Killer.

Home. Put kid in bed (after shower and sulking).

Sunday: Up at 5.30 am for new additional event at church. Immediately announce to Spouse "Yeah. I can't do this every week". Receive another sigh and Eye roll. Am re-christened Mood Killer. Drink six cups of coffee. Spend 7 am to 12.45 pm at church.

Go to friend's house for bi-weekly post service Home Team/lunch. EAT a slice of chocolate cake that could create world peace. At 3 pm, overhear that my living room floor is being replaced on Tuesday.

Remember that 1) We promised guy that we would remove CURRENT flooring and 2) Chachi is having The Guys over for Monday Night Football.

Casually ask when we are removing current flooring.

Am advised that we will do this when we return home from Home Team.

While getting a kid ready for school, making lunches for everyone and attempting to do laundry in order to have CLOTHES to wear to work.

So yeah. THAT would be why I like that he works most Saturdays.

I need some sleep.

Finally Done...

Yesterday was Day Four of my End of Summer Vacation. It was also the first day of school. Since Nooze fancies herself a Momma's Girl (sometimes), I have started the tradition of Taking Her to School (and picking her up) on the first day. This is a rare treat for both of us.

So, promptly at 7:54 am, we left La Casa en route for EOTGW Elementary. In a rare phase of Public Parental Acceptance, Nooze decided that I could walk her to her class. The fact that her backpack weighed roughly 436 pounds may have had something to do with it...

I was back in the Magic Mom van less than ten minutes later, headed back to La Casa. And quiet. And utter, utter boredom.

It should be noted that, while I sometimes crave solitude, I do not generally deal well when it finally occurs. It is acceptable, I believe, once or twice every six months. For full days. The rest of the time, unless I am sick, I can handle being alone at home for maybe an hour or three. That's pretty much it.

So, upon returning home, I decided that I would finish mowing the lawn to surprise Chachi. After approximately twenty attempts on the pull cord, I opened the gas container to find...no gas whatsoever. Oh, well. It looked and felt like rain anyway.

I returned inside and attempted to read blogs. Since I generally work during the day (and blog/read at night), I learned that most blogs are not generally updated by 8.45 am. Ah, well. What to do?

I finally threw in a load of laundry, did the dishes, vacuumed, dusted. House now acceptably clean, I again faced boredom. Desperate to avoid daytime tv, I made the Ultimate Bonehead Move that Moms Make when Desperate.

I decided to clean Nooze's room.

I promised myself that I wouldn't go overboard, and allotted exactly fifteen minutes to the job.

Nearly two hours later, I had to force myself to stop.

I returned to blog reading. I read the two had updated, and was ready to do something else.

Finally fully desperate, I packed the car with eight bags of items to donate to the local shelter. I dropped them off, picked up my tax write off. I discovered a bakery in town and bought a homemade chocolate powdered donut.

I went to the local library, which was actually open! [This is rare. I have lived in this town for eight years; I have seen the "OPEN" sign on the door maybe a handful of times.] After browsing for 30 minutes or so, I checked out three books.

Then I went home, and Chachi pulled in to the driveway. Four hours earlier than usual. After reassuring me that he was the 'Extra Guy' at work today, we set out to Finish More Stuff before school got out.

We went through old VHS tapes, packed up old books, and threw large trash into the back of the truck. We made additional trips to the library (book donations) and the local shelter (VHS and miscellaneous "stuff" donations) - then we went to the dump.

After picking Nooze up at school, we completed homework, organizing, and even put an old desk and newly-empty bookshelf into Nooze's room.

The last thing on my list is to find Something to Do with a set of Encyclopedias from the 1950s. Throwing them out Just Seems Wrong. Ideas, anyone?

Thankfully, I return to work today. I don't know how much more "Organization" that I can stand around here.

First Day...In the Second Grade

It happens without fail. Every year, about a week or so before school starts, Billy Joe McGuffrey begins running through my head.





The fact that Nooze is a Really Clumsy Kid doesn't really help...

Revenge Shall be MINE

I never should have told him my plans. Never, ever, EVER.

My goal, once I figured out the blasphemy known as the Crap-berry, was to program/create a spoken word ring tone on Chachi's phone. It was to be specific to my phone numbers only.

Initially, I wanted to simply yell "Yo! Chachi!", "Hey, Eddie Munster! Get a haircut!", "You're Sooo Pretty!" or "STOP CALLING ME STIFLER'S MOM!"

I thought it was funny.

However, Chachi spends a great deal of his time at CHURCH, and references to a Middle Aged Adulteress that cavorts with teenage boys? Probably not such a great idea. I told him about it instead.

My greatest error? Forgetting that I had told him, and then getting sick.

Sick enough to render myself unconscious for a 15 1/2 hour period. Sick enough to leave my Crap-berry on the kitchen table, forgotten, before I passed out. Sick enough not to check my Crap-berry settings (like I know how) before leaving for work this morning.

Fast forward to 2 pm today. I was sitting at my desk, mindlessly reviewing my favorite Override Report, when I heard something. I couldn't quite make out the words, but I knew the voice.

It was CHACHI, and the sound was coming from my desk.

I opened the drawer slowly, and clearly heard Chachi clear his throat, sigh, and say the following:

"...I'm not saying it's you..."

One of these days, I will understand how this programming thing works.

And when I do? Beware, Chachi.

Stifler's Mom may visit you, after all.

[Explitive Removed]

Dear Newark Airport:

Please read, process and attempt to understand the following:

1. You are, first and foremost, in the service industry

2. You have no freaking idea what that means

3. Failure to make eye contact with a person/customer does not, in fact, render them invisible

4. Clearly marked medical devices are, on average, generally real medical devices

5. "Forgetting" to put my bag on the plane and ransacking it is not 'counter-terrorism'. Placing your gloves in my kid's jeans pockets to show your power and stick it to me are really not good ideas. I don't know who you are, but I hope you are found out to be the creepy perv you are and are subsequently fired.

6. Next year, my clearly marked marked medical device will stay home. I will be wielding walking with a cane instead. Following the precedents of truckers and their lack of responsibility for broken windows, I hereby declare my lack of responsibility for any Airline/T*A Agents that I may come into contact with. I'm a klutz, y'all. Sorry 'bout that.

For the record, please note the following as well:

You, Newark Airport, employ a group of suck-tastic, sycophantic, power-hungry monkey-tools.

May the fleas from ten thousand mongrel dogs invade your nether regions, and may your collective arms be far too short to reach the resulting itch.

Much Love,

Rennratt

Going to the Chapel and we're...

...Already married.

Instead, we thought it would be more fun to watch someone we love have the honor. Then we'll crawl downstairs for a full buffet of homemade foods. And we'll dance. And dance. And dance.

Congratulations, Dad and D. Beauty can come from grief, after all.

V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N!

We have made it safely to the Maine/Canadian Border. It is currently a balmy 74 degrees, with light winds and many mosquitoes.

Life is good, save the mosquitoes.

There is grilling to be done. There are people to hang out with. There is Moxie to consume.

Life is definitely GOOD.

I may or may not post for the next week. Time will tell.

Happy Summer vacation, y'all!

Happy Birthday, Part II

Happy Birthday, Dad!

I'll see you TOMORROW!

Love, Renn

RIP

We love you, Geeky Equie.

Rest in peace.

Good puppy.

Rrrrruuuufff.

[Equinox Raven 1996-2008]