Monday, July 30, 2007

Big, Big, Friendy Love

We were driving in the car today and Emma began to chatter on and on about her "boyfriend" and how excited she would be to see him at school this year. We have worked really hard against the idea of a boyfriend since she was, oh, three. We have tried to offer her alternative words to express her affection, offered ideas of relationships that are not, well, so grown-up....all to no avail. Those of you who have known me for a long time will know that I am simply reaping what I have sown. So, just as I was about to open my mouth and redirect her train of thought, she said, "I just love him so much! I love him with a big, big, friendy love!"
I had been looking for just those words. You, my friends, have said such wonderful things to me as my family has walked through our losses this year. That you would be interested enough to read that many words about my life is incomprehensible to me. That you would call my words renders me speechless. So, thank you for your words and thoughts and prayers. I love you all with a Big, Big, Friendy Love.

DAILY BLISS: The dollar table at Barnes and Noble (it doesn't happen often, but if you're there on just the right day....oh boy!) and cooking on a rainy afternoon.

A Few More Photos

I thought I'd share just a few more photos from our trip (we went to a petting zoo while we were there):
We went swimming in this lake. The kids kept popping up out of the water to ask me if I was positive there weren't any alligators, cotton mouths, sting rays, etc. Our yankee cousins thought that was pretty funny.

Young Bucks:

Someone Who Understands:

Just the Girls:

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Losing My Way Home

We moved around a lot when I was growing up. Sometimes to different cities, once to a different state (twice if you want to be technical, but I was too young to remember it), and once we just moved down the street. We never stayed in one place for more than a year or two. I think three years was our record. Three days was the record on the other end of the spectrum. My dad's parents, however, were the picture of stability. They moved into a house when my dad was about three, if I remember correctly, and rather than move somewhere else when the time came, they just moved the house a couple blocks over. Their home was, to me, my steady home base. I knew from one year to the next where they would be living, I knew that their clock would be ticking away as I slept in the bed at the top of the attic stairs. It was right under a window. I knew they would have green, glass bottles of 7Up in the closet by the front door. I knew what I would see looking out the kitchen window, down to the bird pictured on the big, round thermometer. Their home still shows up in my dreams when I dream of comfort and safety. They moved out of it when I was a teenager, but we had already moved to the opposite end of the country and I only have been to their "new" house four or five times. To me, Grandma and Grandpa's house is still the boxy white cottage with forest in the back yard.
I lost them in quick succession this year. Grandma and Grandpa and my home. I didn't have the privilege of a daily relationship with them, like so much of my family who lived near them did. It's been years since they were well enough to come here for their three-months-a-year visit. So, while I will definitely miss the presence of my grandparents on this planet, I will also miss my connection to that spot on the map. Some invisible string that tied me to them, that ensured I could always tug on it and find my way back, is gone.
There are still lots of family members there, of course. We were invited to spend some time with a few of my cousins. I called up my mom to make sure she was coming. She asked why I needed her to come. I said, "I don't know these people!" She said, "Yes you do! They're your family!" They know stories about me and about my husband and children and brothers because we are connected through my grandparents. And there is still a magical thing about being in a room with people you hardly know, but seeing your eyebrows on somebody else or hearing them tease just as viciously and earnestly as you can. People often have a hard time catching it when I'm teasing. My dad always said it was a family trait, but now I have seen it with my own eyes. I enjoyed tossing a few of my own zingers into the ring, and really enjoyed not having to explain that I was just kidding. Yes, they're my family. Yes, I am connected to them. But the people who connect us are gone now.
There's a big gap in the rings of generations that surround me and my husband and even our children, who are nestled cozily in the center. It's a gaping hole that invites drafts of mortality to ruffle my hair. It's uncomfortable.
We stopped by the "old homestead" before we headed to the airport, at my request. Dad had already been there and didn't really want to go back. It's been long abandoned. The front door is kicked in. But I wanted to take some pictures. Just to somehow have concrete proof that I'm from there. That I belong there too. That I had a homestead once. There was a doe in the yard (pictured above). She didn't run away when we pulled up. We got out and she still didn't move. Then we saw her babies, far off in the trees, their heads peering out of the underbrush and their ears straight up and alert. She was beautiful. Dad said he'd seen her in the yard every morning as he drove to the hospital. The house is just steps away from the hospital. He was looking at her through a window when he called to tell me that Grandpa had passed away.
We stepped gingerly over the broken glass and walked through the disassembled kitchen. The furniture left by previous owners was clumped here and there. I got the kids up on the steps where we used to play so I could get their picture. Mom snapped one shot before Dad whispered urgently that we needed to leave right away. I wanted to at least take some photos outside, but he ushered us silently into the car. There was a light on in the basement, a bullet hole in the floor and shell casings in the kitchen that hadn't been there when he walked through. A little more excitement than I had hoped for, I guess. But I got one photo. And the one photo proves my reasoning for always taking multiple shots (Emma wiggled and her face is blurred), but it's all I've got. So, here are me and my brothers cousins playing on the steps at Grandma and Grandpa's house, and one ill-fated shot of my children, connecting them, I hope, to our "home":

It won't ever be the same. But I guess that's as it should be. Not long from now, it'll be my turn to define "home" for the generations that come after me.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

I'm Back

Well, I'm sort of back. Our trip to the north woods (I'm never sure whether to capitalize that or to make it one word or what) took a lot out of me this time. We had travel snags from the get-go that contributed to my Worst Birthday on Record. But the time that we spent together as a family was precious and deeply emotional. To be honest, I have been avoiding posting anything here because I have not sorted through photographs or thoughts yet. I have had to hit the ground running and zip our life back up neatly as I go because I'm a work widow this week. Poor Chris had to leave directly from our harrowing trip to go out of town.
So anyway, I promise stories and photos and drama. But not today.

DAILY BLISS: Finishing the Harry Potter book!! Can I just say, that Molly Weasley rocks. In an effort to display my utter dork-ness to you, I'll tell you that I identify strongly with that character and was really happy to see her get a piece of the action in the end!

Thursday, July 19, 2007

(Willard) Joe

My grandpa finally let go this morning - a clear, cool, beautiful Wisconsin morning, my dad said. He struggled to stay around as long as his boys were all in the same place. I think he just wanted to be there with them. After they left for the night, he felt free to go.
My grandpa didn't like his name, Willard. He went by his middle name instead. Rather than naming my dad after himself, he went with William. Fittingly, my parents attempted to honor him by naming one of their sons Joseph. Only after the fact did they find out that his middle name was just Joe.
That was just like him. He was never one to talk much about himself. In fact, most of what I really know about him was told to me by someone else. Anyone who met him would think that "Joe" suited him just fine. Just a guy. Kind of quiet, unassuming and humble. But I always thought there was more to him. I always thought he was deeper and fiercer than that.
He was an Iowa farm boy. There are lots of stories that float around about him and his dog Shep. I'm sure that he told the stories in the first place, but by the time they got to me, they were legend.
When he was about to go off to the war, a buddy dared him to talk to the spicy short stuff across the room. That was all it took. He and Betty eloped just a few weeks later.
I was told he played trombone in a swing band. I know he loved the music of that time. His record collection captivated me from the time I was small, and when I was fourteen or so, he passed on a few of those albums to me. I listened to them throughout my high school years. Silently, and perhaps unknowingly, he taught me to swoon over Bing Crosby and to find Miller and Dorsey to be irresistible. He almost taught me to swing dance once. It lasted all of a minute or so. I was awkward and embarrassed, and he didn't know what to do with a giggly, teenage girl. After Grandma died, he sent me most of the records that were left. And he promised me the big old record player that sat in his office. We didn't talk much about it, but he knew what they meant to me, and he knew that I would treasure them more than jewelry or china.
He loved books and history. I suspect that he loved the way the nine-year-old me would curl up next to his bookshelves to pore over his books or hide between the bed and the bookshelf in the basement to leaf through the astonishing collection of National Geographic magazines stored there. But he wasn't the kind to say it out loud. I do know that he took interest in my husband's love of history, and never missed an opportunity to pass on a book about wars or presidents to him.
When I visited his house, he would pull out big boxes of black and white photographs. I would sit for hours shuffling through the faces of my family, hoping for stories about them, and sometimes getting one. Once, when I was about eighteen, we ran across a photo of his mother. I will never, ever forget that he told he I reminded him most of his mother. For a man of few words, he sure knew how to make the most of them.
When he spoke, though, his words had a way of just slipping out - casual and smooth. He had his own jargon that worked just so with his side-cocked driving cap. He was the only one who melted my first and middle names together - he called me ChristyEllen. Legend has it, his buddies at work called him Jake. Nobody really knows why. But his phrases and lingo became known as "Jake-isms." I love this about my grandpa. All the boys in our family have their own Jake-isms that they've selected to carry on. Jon can mutter "my goodness" under his breath. You have to draw out the "my" and completely ignore the "d" in "goodness" to get it right. Joe has mastered the descending triad of notes in his yawn. That's probably the most famous Jake-ism of them all. Even Chris, though he's an in-law, can whip out a "welllll" in a quiet, low tone, with a slight chuckle to break it up in the middle when needed. I have attempted a few of them myself, but I suspect I have allowed too much of the South into my mouth to get it right.
I'll remember him wearing slate-blue coveralls and carrying a silver lunchbox. I know that his lunch was always a bologna sandwich on white bread with butter and ketchup, and a twinkie for dessert. He had an insatiable sweet tooth. My dad had the misfortune one day of accidentally getting Grandpa's lunch. It was memorable.
And I'll always remember how his eyes would well up with tears at every goodbye. We were the only branch of his family that lived far away. Maybe he was saddened by the thought of missing us until we saw each other again, or maybe he was worried that we wouldn't, through some imagined misfortune, see each other again. Maybe a little bit of both.
In his later years, his goal became living longer than Grandma, so she would never have to know the sorrow of losing him. When she left, he sort of did too. His body was just biding its time until it was his turn.
My penchant for melodrama and emotion comes from my dad. My dad's comes from his dad. And my eyes well up with tears today, saddened at the thought of how much we will all miss them both until we get to see them again. But I, for one, am absolutely certain that we will.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

An Afternoon Metaphor

My heart has been so heavy. My grandpa is not going to make it - it's just a matter of when. My dad is up north with his family and now they are waiting.
So I dragged my heart out to the porch today. The storms seemed to be rolling in for the afternoon, and the amount of rumbling promised big ones. There are few things that speak to my heart like storms - the moon, maybe, but little else. I brought with me a project that was just enough work to still my mind. The sky lit up and the thunder growled endlessly. It threatened and it even bullied my tired wind chimes into choking out two or three hot, muffled notes. Still no rain.
As I sat waiting, I remembered my dad, his brothers, and doubtless, nieces and nephews keeping their sad vigil. Waiting for something that all the signs say should already be here. Grandpa opened his eyes long enough to recognize them and hear them tell him it was okay to go. He's just not gone yet. Neither medicine nor Hospice can explain why he is still alive.
My front door opened and my son told me the stove timer had gone off some time ago. Had I already waited that long? I guess I had. And still, no rain. I put down my work and came inside, tied on my apron and set about the business of dinner. And then the sky finally let go.

Monday, July 16, 2007


This day, for me, has seen both ends of the spectrum of life.
I'm gonna be an Auntie! I found out to my joy that I am getting a nephew - the first one. So, Emma will remain the only female born into my husband's family for the last 40 years. Aunt Kiki has a nice ring to it...
But I also found out that my grandpa's not doing well. Last week, his doctor did an MRI and found masses all through his body - lungs, lymph nodes, organs, bones...there hasn't been a biopsy, but they are presuming the obvious. Then he had (again, presumably) a stroke yesterday. With no change in his condition today, the family is once again headed up north. He's still with us, but, we really don't know how long he will be.
When I lean toward the melodramatic, it gets pretty ugly. So I will refrain from offering philosophy or bad poetry. It is just an oddity to find a day that contains reminders of how precious life is, from both sides of the coin.

DAILY BLISS: train whistles and new soap

Sunday, July 15, 2007

A Gifty Day

My friend Denise came to church this morning, fresh from her dream trip to New York. She brought me a birthday present from the New York version of my favorite store, Anthropologie! Yay! A branny-new apron! See how cute (but ignore my weird fuzzy hair...):

My mama gave me three sets of knitting needles, too. Lots of gifts going'd think it was my birthday week or something.
A few quick items:
*My bird, O.J. Smudge is very vain. Emma has made a song to the tune of "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf" that goes "O.J. Smudge is the one we love" and goes on to state that he's a "special bird," an "important bird," and a "handsome bird" in the various verses. Nothing makes him puff up and tweet more than hearing his special song.
*Speaking of birds, the church-bird has a friend now. She sits on the top of the church's roof and admires his singing. I'm very happy for them.
*I made blackberry tarts with macaroon crusts today. This is not necessarily information that will be helpful to you, but they were very delicious and impressive. So there.
*We were at my parents' house for lunch today with my brother and his lovely wife when my mom made the funniest random statement that she has ever made. She walked through the room with a bottle of vegetable oil and a paper towel and declared that she was going to go "oil the pole so the kids could watch the squirrels." I'll give you a minute to catch your breath. Okay. What this means is that she uses oil to make the bird feeder pole slick to keep the squirrels from eating all the seeds. It's pretty funny to watch them slip and slide, I guess, but the simple fact that my mother deemed this family-style entertainment will keep me laughing for at least three days to come.

DAILY BLISS: Good Earth original tea and finishing my grocery shopping (I usually forget stuff, but I got it all this time)

Friday, July 13, 2007

Magic and Dishes

First, let me just say that I saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix last night. I loved it. I really, really loved the books, and I like the movies too. I am now completely excited for Friday night - when we get our (I mean Andrew's) reserved copy of the last book. Drew and my friend Julianna are going to stand in line. Julianna has a red and gold Gryffindor scarf and she wore it to the movie last night. She's super-excited for the book. I don't like crowds of strangers, so I'm going to let them just do it alone. Then I will steal the book while my son is sleeping. I don't plan on sleeping at all until I'm done with the book.
We had to scramble for child care this week, as my friend who is watching the kiddos is in New York. She deserves every bit of fun she's having right now. My saintly grandma took the kids for a couple of days, and my rock star brother had them today. Let me just say that, although I trust him (he is very good with animals....), I have never left my kids in the care of a brother for the whole day. Neither of my brothers have kids yet. I wasn't worried, but did wonder whether they were simply going to play xbox all day long and leave dishes everywhere. But that would be fine with me. At least they get to hang out with their uncle - lots of kids don't get that. But, blessing of blessings, surprise of surprises, I came home to this sight:

Emma is wearing one of my vintage aprons and they are washing the dishes. It was fabulous.

DAILY BLISS: A cloudy afternoon, a new knitting project in my lap, and Kings of Convenience. Need I say more?

Thursday, July 12, 2007

I've Been Tagged

Okay. Mary tagged me to do one of those list things. I have done them before, and I actually think they're kind of fun. It's a list of weird things about you. There are lots of weird things about me, if you haven't already noticed. Here's a link to my last list.
Now I will try to think of more things that I can actually post in public....oh....I have to post the rules first. Here they are:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

So on with my things:
1) I transcribe constantly. When I listen to people talk, my fingers are always typing what they have to say. In the air, on a table, on my lap....whatever. It's like a nervous tic or something.

2) I have a strange talent for singing various tunes over other ones that match the chord structure, also for picking out pilfered riffs. There's a Lifehouse (I think) song right now that you can sing to an Edwin McCain song. There's another one on Christian radio that you can sing a Keane song to. Did you know there's a three-note Led Zeppelin riff in that Carrie Underwood song about Jesus taking the wheel? I just hear that stuff and it really drives me crazy. There are about three more of these things on the radio currently. But I don't remember all the band/song names, so I will leave it alone.

3) I'm a terrible decision-maker. I can always see the arguments instantaneously on all sides of a subject and I am never sure which one is right. Even when it comes to where to eat dinner.

4) I'm nearly 31 and just opened my first checking account in my name with my own money a week ago.

5) I'm double-jointed all over. Most of my fingers are and both of my thumbs are. I can even bend one of my thumbs all the way backward. My jaw and one of my hips are also double-jointed.

6) Speaking of odd physical talents, I can spread my toes out and stretch them. I grew almost all the way up never knowing that this was an unusual thing. However, two of my favorite men over the years have pointed it out independently of each other and have told me it's very cute.

7) I still have one baby tooth. Which is not nearly as weird as the fact that one of my brothers had almost no adult teeth. He has implants now. My little tooth is still holding on for dear life, though.

8) This one's a little personal: My biggest, most irrational fear is of being watched or listened to when I don't know about it. I did have a peeping tom incident and later in my life a stalker, neither of which helped, but I can honestly remember having this fear when I was 7. It's not so much a throat-clutching, heart-racing fear as something that makes me feel creepy-crawly sometimes.

I'm supposed to tag eight of you people to continue the list-making, but I don't think I know eight more people who have blogs, so I will try to think of as many of you as possible, and then if you don't want to do're a party pooper. And really, most of you did this with me last time, but certainly there are more weird things??? So, Becky (I think Mary tagged you, but just in case she didn't..), Allison, uh, Joe if you feel like it, uh.....that's pretty much it. Anybody else? If you want to play, just post something in the comments to let me know you did it too :)

Tuesday, July 10, 2007


I generally try to refrain from talking about theology and politics and other controversial things about which I am not fully educated and therefore have no business talking about. So, no firestorm of comments please....?
But I read a story today about the Pope's little paper which he recently "approved." Parts of this document reiterate the "fact" that the only true church is the Catholic church, because they are able to trace their bishops all the way back to Christ's apostles, and that was the one church that Christ established here on earth. I guess this means, in my limited understanding and according to the paper, that all the other churches cannot actually be called churches and therefore do not have the means of salvation.

I was mostly just wondering if that there spiffy church hat can be traced back to Paul, making it the One True Hat or something.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Bits and Pieces of My Day

My little bird-friend at work has added some acrobatic antics to his singing. He makes quite a high fluttering jump off the top of the cross and lands right back on it. I am still enjoying his song. I still have not seen a girl for him, but I did see him run off another guy.....
Thank you all for your kind words about my knitting! I am totally into it now. My hubby has taken to calling me "Little Christy Knitter" only you have to say the hard "k" sound, so it's more like kanitter. This is only funny to those of you who have seen The Three Amigos enough times to remember when the German pilot called Ned "Little Neddy Knickers" in the same pronunciation. Sadly, we have seen it that many times.
The heat is now stifling here. This is the time of year that I hate, hate, hate living in Florida. Yes, you northern-ish folks get a hot day or two, sometimes even a heat wave, but this will not leave until late October. Did I mention that I hate it? Walking outside into the heat and steam, you feel like you could make a fist and the air-juice would go running down to your elbow. I am living indoors nearly 100 percent of the time now. So are the kids. They are driving each other batty. They are driving me batty too. I forced them to go outside this evening. Ha! They just sat on the ground in the backyard and waited until I called them back inside. It's that bad.
The only other exciting thing is that I have a birthday coming up....not this Saturday, but next. It's not really that exciting, though. Has anybody else noticed that you really do care less and less about birthdays as you get older? I always felt sorry for those poor adults when I was a kid - no piles of presents, no noisemakers or cupcakes. Just cards and one or two gifts. And most of the cards didn't have money in them! How dreadful! I have wondered if I'm just bitter about getting on into my thirties. I don't think so, though. I think I just genuinely am not that interested anymore. Don't get me wrong - my husband had better buy me a present. But grandparents and siblings? Eh...whatever.

DAILY BLISS: Organic, fair-trade coffee from Costa Rica. It was roasted on Thursday. It tastes kind of like a campfire in the rain forest. Amazingly smooth and all roasty-toasty! (I have a connection to a missionary there who is helping a community to do this as a sustainable business, through a friend. Her dad brought back coffee for those of us who ordered it. I love her dad on an entirely new level now.) I actually found myself sticking my nose into my empty mug for a long time after it was gone, just to sniff up every last molecule.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

My Baby

I felt like a baby picture would be apropo....we don't have much in the way of digital ones, though. My mom played with this photo in her early days with PhotoShop or something (thus the text). So, in the spirit of shamelessly exploiting my children:

The Big 1-0

We had a fabulous birthday party today for my fabulous boy. He turned ten and we celebrated the double digits with a double feature movie party at our house. We turned our entertainment center into a theater with a little help from the bedding department at WalMart:

And we even borrowed a real popcorn popper:

I attempted a cake that looks like reel film, but I've never been good with decorator icing. I can't understand why I'm not, so I keep trying anyway:

Lots of awesome presents were received and there was even a pinata:

Anyway, it was a great day. I'm so tired. I am soooooo going to bed early.

DAILY BLISS: Emma asked me if she could organize my shoes. As if I needed convincing, she told me they were "all in a jumble, and we don't want that, do we?" Certainly, we do not.

Friday, July 6, 2007

Photo Update

Fourth of July:

My first knitting project, modeled so kindly by Emma:

Sigh. I'm just thinking about how, ten years ago tonight, I was feeling like my that baby was never going to come out of me. I cried at my mom's house. Then I went home and took a bath and painted my toenails. Or maybe I had Chris paint them....I'm sure that I couldn't reach them by then.....
Little did I know that I would be awakened in the middle of the night!

DAILY BLISS: borrowing a popcorn machine for tomorrow's party! how cool is that going to be?!

Thursday, July 5, 2007

Catching Up A Little

We're dog-sitting for my parents right now, so I'm not near my camera and I can't post any photos. I thought I'd bring it over tonight so I could put pictures up and catch up with stories, but I did not remember to do it. Typical.
I'll just add photos later, I guess.
We had a nice 4th of July - it was very quiet and subdued in comparison to other years. Generally, I go all out and have a real Americana-style shindig. One year we had a backyard party where the kids decorated patriotic cupcakes and had a shaving-cream-beard contest (the kids all got to squirt their dads with shaving cream). Sometimes we get the whole family and several friends together and grill out some ribs and have a big party/lots of beer. This year, not so much.
So, I felt like a pretty crappy mom yesterday when we plunked our little Pillsbury flag-stamped cookies on a pan and stuck them in the oven. Not anywhere close to my traditional homemade star-shaped biscuits topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream (NEVER the kind from the can). Sigh. Some of that is because I can't eat that stuff anymore, but mostly it's because I didn't have time. I hate that I didn't have time.
Anyway, we did grill out, just the four of us. And we bought a few little fireworks and some giant sparklers. We had those Pillsbury cookies (well, Chris and the kids did anyway) and we watched a movie because it was so rainy outside.
We're getting ready for Drew's birthday party on Saturday. I hope it'll be a little better than the 4th, but.....we'll see what I can pull off.
I don't mean for this to be such a complaining post. I know that I'm a good mom and all that. It's just that I hate the loss of the fun stuff that happens when you're not a stay-home mom. I like my job just fine - if you've got to work it's a good place to be. I even have a friend at work, which was completely unexpected. It just sucks that I can't do all the fun stuff I used to do.
On a lighter note, I finished my first knitting project and started on another. I'm totally into this knitting thing. I bought some yarn for the first time and found that it was very difficult for me to leave all that clearance yarn in the bins and only walk out with what I need for the current project. I guess I have a new hobby. I'll post a photo of Emma in the wrap I made for her....probably tomorrow.

DAILY BLISS: taking the time to fix my hair today and the joy of a pool and cable tv (while we dog-sit at my parents' house)

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Satan's Camaro is Stalking Me

No. Not really. That's just the my favorite thing that Sam Witwicky said in the movie I just saw. Transformers. More than meets the eye, I tell you.
It was......SO freaking (insert Oprah-style singsong voice) AWESOME! The thing is, we have probably fifty or sixty Transformers in our house, a large collection of Transformers comic books (those are my husband's from his childhood) and even a borrowed box of vintage ones. This is serious business in our house. My son says he wants to study robotics at MIT. I'm pretty sure that playing with Transformers has something to do with that. Well, that and having a robot-guy as a friend. I mean my friend. Well, it doesn't really matter whose friend, I guess.
Anyway, we saw the first trailer for the movie LAST JUNE and have been counting down the days ever since. We pretty much knew what to expect. The Optimus Prime quote from the trailer is, "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings." So, much like the old cartoons, this will be a clearly defined battle between good and evil, with a plot line emphasizing freedom (well, America too), diversity and acceptance of other, um, alien races....lots of robot fighting and cool sound effects, all set to screaming guitar licks. YESSSSSS!
It soooooo lived up to my expectations. Plot lines? Who needs them when there's a death match going down between Optimus and Megatron in the streets of a major metropolis? It was so cool that I'm still talking pretty loud! I know you can't tell that....perhaps I should type in all caps so you can get the picture of exactly how much adrenaline I have coursing through my veins right now! Maybe you can, due to all of the CAPS and exclamation points I'm using!!! I get way too involved in movies. I almost cried when Bumblebee...Hm. I guess I don't want to give away any plot secrets, 'cuz you know y'all are all gonna see it. Haha. It was an uncharacteristically intense movie for me and I am definitely suffering from proximity-induced hyper-testosterone-ism.
I'm going to go swear now and maybe break something!!!!

DAILY BLISS: An early thunderstorm and having tomorrow off

Monday, July 2, 2007

More Feathered Friends

We picked up Drew's birthday present this past Saturday (a week early) and you will recall, I'm sure, my mother bought him a bird. I erroneously called it a parakeet. It is, in fact, a cockatiel. Hope I spelled that right. I'm not going to bother checking.
We got suckered into buying two of them. This is why I NEVER visit the SPCA. I would take all of the animals home with me, and if I find that I have to leave some of them behind, I will be depressed for possibly a year.
Anyway, Drew's bird is still just a baby. He is pure white. His name is Hedwig. Yes, the snowy white feathered friend of another, slightly-more-famous-yet-no-more-magical-and-also-fictional young boy, given to him as a birthday present. Inspirational indeed. Oh, for those of you who do not have a fourth or fifth grader, Hedwig is Harry Potter's owl.
My birdie, yes - my birdie, for the other one is mine, has a yellow head and two orange smudges on his cheeks. I called him Smudge. Emma said his smudges looked like orange juice, so I lengthened his name to O.J. Smudge. I'm sure we'll write a book about his life and times very soon, because honestly - wouldn't you want to read about a cockatiel named O.J. Smudge? I know I would. He might be a gumshoe cockatiel. We'll know sooner or later.
Here's the boy with his new friend:

Within three minutes of coming home, Drew sighed and said, "It's like having a friend come over and they never have to go home!" How sweet. That made mommy panic a little bit. Mommy has commitment issues.
Anyway, Smudge seems to be a bit less friendly than Hedwig and I do plan to work on that. I bent and broke my children into being nice people. We'll see what I can do with a bird. Bwaaa haa haaa haaaaa!
Okay. Sorry for that. It is probably obvious at this point that I should go on to bed.

DAILY BLISS: Skillet toasted corn salad - yummy :) and just getting through the day. Sometimes that's enough.