And so it begins

I try to keep this blog light-hearted, more or less. I've had my moments, sure, but I tend to NOT blog about things that are bothering me. Partially it's self-preservation: I'm just not that comfortable baring THAT much of my soul in public (that's what sisters, friends, SO's and therapists are for, and I'm blessed with very good ones in each category!)

And, partially, it's because sometimes the baring of my soul will involve other people, and that just doesn't seem fair.

But, tonight, I'm going to break with tradition somewhat. Not sure why, other than I'm feeling a little melancholy.

This weekend (actually Sunday) marks the first in a series of related milestones for me.

My mother died when I was not yet nine. She was 42. I was the youngest of her children (and, I guess, still am!)

I'm now 42, and on Sunday, Grace, my youngest, turns 9. This will be followed in a few months (ok, 6) by my birthday, when I will be older than my mother ever was. Technically, I suppose, that day will come sometime next January (she died in October, before her birthday in January), but I think that my birthday, when my age changes, will be the day that brings it home for me.

So, yes, in a sense this is a good milestone; other than the fact that it's Grace's birthday, which is always a good thing, it means that, regardless of what else happens, she will be older when I die than I was when my mother died.

But that's a really morbid thought! My Nana always used to say that once her husband died (in 1946 or so) she wanted to get her youngest, then 4 or 5, out of high school, and considered any time after that to be bonus. She lived till 1992, so she had, by my calculations, about 30-odd bonus years! But I always, as a teenager, thought that that was the darkest, most morbid way of looking at things! Why think about when it's OK to die!!!

I now realize that it's not that simple. The death of a loved one affects us in ways we'll never completely understand, at least partially because it affects us forever, and we're constantly changing. I remember what I felt at 8, and I know what I feel at 42. The feelings are very different, and I'm sure that at 52 and 82 they will be different still.

So, no, I'm not sitting around checking off things on some karmic bucket list (Got both kids past age 8, check.) I haven't decided it's OK to die now -- quite frankly, I plan on getting grandkids to age eight and beyond, and that better be decades from now! And, yes, I will cherish every day I have with my children.

But I'm also really glad that my daughter will not have to go through the death of a parent as young as I did.

Hmm, perhaps life is looking up...

OK, so it's been a bad day (see post below).

But, David and I wound up playing in a rousing trivia game tonight! Once he got home (he'd been in DC, and came home to the wonderful news that he's engaged to a total menace) and got Geoff to Scouts, we wound up in a bar to get beer and bar food. It was that kind of night.

We thought there was going to be karaoke, cause we could see an emceee kind of person with a microphone. Neither of us particularly cares for karaoke; but the place has good beer and snacks, so we wente in anyway.

Turns out it was NOT karaoke, but a trivia contest! We snagged an answer sheet, and jumped in.

We were tied for 4th place after the first round (name the backing band for various artists), but after a round of movies, then science (uh, yeah, David pretty much rocked on that one) then TV theme songs, we finished in 2nd place over all!

Yay for Cap'n Crunch and the Cereal Killers!!!

Doober.

So, today I got a call from Peter about 4 pm. Turns out that his soccer practice had been cancelled due to thunder. He bikes there, so he headed home, but since it was thundering, I also headed out to meet him (11 year old boys can survive a lot of things, but I don't think lightning strikes should be tested!).

I found him, and we loaded his bike into the back of David's Veracruz, which I am currently driving. I was lazy, so rather than put one of the seats down, I just crammed the bike in, but then the hatchback wouldn't shut. Since it was only a short ways, though, I figured it would be OK.

And it was.

Till I got home, and drove into the garage.

Forgetting that the frikkin' hatchback was still up!

So, yeah, shattered glass, cursing, Meg feeling stupid. And, going to need a new back window.

Sigh.

How 'bout that!

I have determined, though rigorous scientific experimentation, that you can not hold a cell phone against one hear with your shoulder while simultaneously holding a desk phone against the other ear with the other shoulder.

Phone calls I never expected to receive...

My phone rings today, and I see that it's Peter's phone, so I answer, "Hey!"

But it's not Peter, it's Geoffrey.

G: "Peter's locked in the garage!"
Me: "What????"
G: "Peter's locked in the garage. He came into the garage, shut the door, and now the power's out and the knob on the door from the house to the garage won't turn"
Me: (asking the obvious, but hey) "Is the door from the house to the garage unlocked?"
G: "Yes, it just won't...Oh, here he is! He's out now!"

So, yeah, still not entirely sure how it was that it took to very bright young men so long to, um, turn a doorknob. Or why Peter didn't go out the outside people-door in the garage. But whatever, all's well that ends well!

Weekend Wrapup

Or, traffic, traffic and more traffic.

So, as we all know, Peter and I were in Baltimore this weekend. We got up reasonably early on Sunday, had breakfast at an IHOP, then headed up to Camden Yards. We got a decent parking space, then headed over to the Inner Harbor and putzed around for a bit -- nothing too major, because we didn't really have the time, but we found a bunch of things that we want to do on a subsequent visit.

We did go up to the 27th Floor of the Baltimore World Trade Center, to see the view. That was fun, and in keeping with my tradition of always going up to the top of tall buildings with observation decks when I travel.

Then we headed back to the ballfield, stopping off along the way to go to the Baltimore Sports Legends Museum. It was a small but fun museum, with a couple of really cool items -- an actual Super Bowl trophy, Johnny Unitas's Championship Ring, and the 2130 and 2131 banners from when Cal Ripken broke Lou Gherig's record for consecutive games played.

We had noticed all day that there were TONS of people with Red Sox shirts on, but we figured it was because we were doing touristy things, and the O's fans were more likely to show up for the game without wandering around first. But then we got to the stadium.

There were easily as many Red Sox fans as there were O's fans. And they were louder, too! It was fun -- we had great seats (upper box, behind home plate), and were in a clump of other Red Sox fans, so we had fun yelling "YOUK!!!" and cheering for Boston.

We left in the middle of the 9th, with Boston solidly ahead, and were back at the car and heading out by about 4:30 or so. We had NO trouble getting onto I-95 from the ball field.

But then we started hitting traffic. And hit, and hit, and hit. Sat in traffic from Fed-Ex field (there had been a Redskins game, too), which is east-ish of DC proper, to Potomic Mills in Virginia -- all of about 40 miles, and it took us a solid hour, hour and a half.

Eventually the traffic eased up, though. We were home by 10:30 or quarter of 11, and pretty much crashed. Both Peter and I are tired today, but DID make it up and out of the house more or less on time!

More oddities

So, after everything else that happened last night, I was awoken at 1:5-something by, um, urban music. Not blaring, by any means.

At first I thought it was coming from another room, given the large number of college kids around (Lord, I'm a curmudgeon), but then I realized it was coming from the clock radio.

So, I reached over and started pressing buttons. Nothing made it stop. Pressed 'em all again. Still rappin'.

Finally I turned on the light, found a very small button on the side of the radio labelled "On-Off-Auto." It was on Auto, so I slid it to off.

Still playing.

I slid it BACK to Auto, then Back to Off. Still music. To On, then Off. Nope, still music.

Finally, FINALLY I hit snooze. The music went off, but since it was only snoozing, I was afraid it would come back. I made sure that the button was still on Off, though, and luckily we made it through the night with no more surprises!

Oddest. Trip. Ever.

So, Peter and I are in Baltimore (Jessup, actually), Md. He never, poor boy, got a birthday party this year. I tried to get him to have a pool party this summer, but he didn't want to.

What he DID want was to go to an Orioles game. So, our compromise was that he and I would take a road trip to Balitmore for an O's game.

We were going to go over Labor Day, but life got crazy, and then I saw that THIS weekend, the O's were playing.....

The Red Sox.

Now, Peter likes the O's just fine. But he LOVES the Red Sox, so this was a no brainer.

Grace and I had plans last night, plus Peter had a soccer game this morning (lost, 4-3, but Peter scored all three goals), so this is truly a zippy little trip.

We left Chapel Hill today about 2:30; it should've taken us about 5, 5.5 hours to get here. So, yeah, it was conceivable that we could've gotten here about 7:30, and possibly even run up to the Inner Harbor for dinner.

But no. This is THE. MOST. SURREAL. TRIP. EVER.

It started with Peter's lunch (I, sensibly, ate at home. He wanted Bojangles at 3pm). I ordered his lunch, and then asked for a jelly biscuit for me. The drive-through woman replies, "A what????" Me: "Uh, a jelly biscuit." Her: "You want a biscuit? With Jelly????" Me: "Yes!"

I dunno, I know Southerners are inherently different, but dang, is a jelly biscuit really that odd?

So, then we head off. Nothing major for awhile; we listened to the radio, Peter did some homework, etc. We were making good time, and were on trace for dinner in Baltimore.

Then, a road info sign (immediatly AFTER an exit) informed us that there was a major accident ahead, ALL lanes were closed, and we were to follow the detour signs.

An hour later, we had made it a mile down the road to the exit (no signs). We exited, and immediately (well, 10 minutes later when we'd made it off the ramp) ran into THE MOST OBNOXIOUS OLD MAN IN THE WORLD!!! Seriously. Firt of all, it was obvious that EVERYONE was getting off I-95. Most people were nicely alternate-merging. The cars in front of me, both in my lane and Mr. Obnoxious-oid's lane, did that.

But, no. Not Mr. Obnoxo. Luckily, I'm driving the Veracruz (for the GPS), so I made him let me in! Nearly as soon as I got on the road, though, I heard a siren -- one of ambulences from the accident was trying to get down the off-ramp. Again, most of us nice, cooperative drivers pulled over to let the ambulence by.

Not Mr. Obnoxo. Nope, he PASSED ME! Arrogant, sore-loser, unfriendly, obnoxious little so-and-so stinking PASSED ME. And then got ticked because there was no room for him to pull over when the ambulence was behind him honking, loudly for him to GET OUT OF THE WAY.

Well, my patience was, um, strained. Quite frankly, I lost it. I don't THINK Peter learned any new words (OK, one) but he certainly learned some new combinations.

But, we eventually got back on the highway. We headed North (again), stopping for dinner north of Richmond at a place that said it had the best milkshakes in Richmond (it did, and a yummy veggie plate, too! And GREAT biscuits, and even JELLY!)

Then we were off again, but alas, it was STILL not to be a normal trip. We drive and drive, and I'm trustingly following the GPS...which sent us on 395 around DC. Now, 395 is scenic -- we got to see the Washington Monument, Lincoln and Jefferson memorials, and the Capitol.

But it's not the best way to go. It took for-stinkin'-ever, and we went through some lovely sections of town! AND a "parkway", with a 55mph speed limit. Now, I'm all for safety, but dang, people, 55 mph when I just want my nice hotel bed is just mean.

But, we're here now, in Jessup, in our hotel. Where there are a bunch of college kids here for a marching band convention.

Oh, and when I ran to the gas station next door to get chapstick, there was a frat-boy type (i.e. drunk and in khakis, an oxford shirt and tie), trying to buy coffee cups. Not a package of styrofoam cups, mind you; the ones that the gas station uses to sell coffee! The clerk was telling him to put them back, they weren't for sale, but he didn't seem to be listening!

But Man vs. Food is eathing the worlds spiciest burger, I have my chapstick, and tomorrow we get to see the Red Sox!!!!

Who, me? Neurotic?

I'm not neurotic, I'm just greater than the sum of all my traumas. And, of course, as a good child of the 70s, a lot of my traumas revolve around low-budget horror movies.

The one that always scared me the most was Halloween -- to this day, the theme will give me chillbumps (and you should see what it does to Kathy!). I'm not sure what it was about that movie, but I think it had something to do with the silent implacability of Michael Myers. Jason's chainsaw was too loud, and Freddie was a bit over the top in his malevolence.

But Michael was just creepy. Michael is the thing that's in your room when you wake up in the middle of the night and it's pitch dark and you just know that someone, or something, is there...but you can't bring yourself to turn on the light and check, so you just lie there in the dark, terrified (and invariably having to pee) until you hear your Dad get up to make breakfast, and then you finally fall back asleep.

Not that that ever happened....

Anyway, so last night I had a very odd dream. I was in Halloween (the first one, the REAL one, the Jamie Lee Curtis without a date screaming at the top of her lungs one), but it was a week or two before actual-Halloween. I knew what was going to happen, but no one would believe me, and they all made fun of me (in fact, a stuffed Freddie doll figured into it, which is odd since Freddie's movies came out AFTER H'ween).

It wasn't too scary, though, because none of the horrible stuff had happened yet.

Then I woke up, and got up to take the dog for a walk.

Now, 6 am is dark. And I kept seeing Halloween-esque things. Like, for example, a teenage girl going out to get in her car -- I wanted to scream, "NO!! He's probably in there!" but I'm thinking that would not have gone over well.

And then, suddenly, there was a guy walking in front of me, about 10 feet ahead. Now, lots of people walk or run early in the morning (like me!). But this guy had no dog, and was in jeans, not sweats. And a hoodie that kind of obscured his face.

And he walked really quietly. And I hadn't seen where he came from.

Now, I'm sure (pretty sure, anyway) that he was just a normal guy, out for his morning excercise. But I stayed behind him, and kept my eye on him, anyway!

Which, of course, led to MORE macabre Halloween fantasies, like, "Oooh, what if I'm distracted for a moment, and when I look back, he's GONE!?!?!?!"

So, yeah, for the record I worked myself into a right state, to the point that, when our paths diverged and I was back on my own, I was still a little jumpy.

Like, jumpy enough that when sprinklers went on in the yard next to me, I about jumped out of my skin, which made Tucker jump and try to bolt...into the yard where the sprinklers were, which startled him even more!

Poor Tucky. But we made it home safe and sound, unbothered by ghosties or goulies...or homocidal, knife-weilding, un-dying, super-human MANIACS!

A Beatles Rockband Observation

Given the target demographic group (i.e. old farts) isn't it odd that RB Beatles has a "psychedelic" look and feel, making it very, very difficult for middle-aged eyes to see the notes?

sigh.

Really? You can bake grapefruit?

So, David and I just got back from a trip to the mountains; it was Family Weekend at UNC-A, where Kirsten goes.

We stayed in a pet-friendly B&B, with delicious breakfasts; each breakfast was two courses -- a fruit course, and an entree. On Saturday, the fruit course was peach cobbler, with blueberry pancakes as the entree.

Peach Cobbler! For breakfrast! How fun!

I have to admit, I was a little thrown at first. I mean, cobblers are desserts, right? But, then I thought about it, and decided that it was carbs and fruit, which is basically what's in pancakes, french toast, etc. And, it was delicious!

Today the fruit was half a grapefruit baked with butter, brown sugar and cinnamon, and the entree was a southwestern baked omelet with a cheese and sausage biscuit.

Yum.

Add to that a light(ish) lunch on Saturday at Jack of the Woods (a pub with good beer) and a truly delicious dinner on Saturday night at Bouchon, a French Bistro, and it was a tasty weekend all around!

Yet more wireless rapture

We all know how much I love free, easily accessible wireless. Love it, love it, love it.

Well, today was mildly crazy (though, as Kathy says, my life is ALWAYS crazy)

Anyway, due to a vet scheduling conflict, I had to leave work about 2:30 to take the boys to get their Feline Leukemia boosters. I was waiting for someone to finish something so that I could do MY part, and of course, they had system issues.

So, I said as I was leaving that I'd find wireless sometime after 4 and call into work.

And here I am, at Weaver Street (while Peter is at soccer practice), eating some lovely caraway cheddar and bread, drinking a New Belgium Hoptober (very tasty, btw), and working.

Oh, and it's 70 degrees and breezy. A lovely fall afternoon.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh

Whoa! That's cool!

Disclaimer: this post has mild political content. Yes, I am a rabid, die-hard, semi-knee-jerk liberal. Yes, I think President Obama has every right to speak to school children. But, for the record, I also thought that Bush had every right to read to school children in September of 2001. Like 'em or hate 'em, agree with them or disagree with them, these are authority figures, and the more authority figures who read to kids, talk to kids, tell kids that school is important, that behaving is important, that working hard is important, the better.

BUT. This post is more about being a proud mom than being a political being. So, if you disagree with me, fine. You're entitled to your opinion.

But keep it out of the comments when I'm being proud of my boy!

(rant over)

Now, on to more important stuff!

As I was sitting down to my lunch today, I got a call from Peter's English teacher. "Hmmm," thinks I, "this is unusual..." Now, Peter is a good kid, and typically doesn't get in trouble at school. But he's also 11, and is beginning to push some boundaries, just to see what happens. So, I have to admit -- I had a brief moment of worry, wondering if he'd pushed the wrong boundary!

But, no, the teacher was just calling to tell me that they'd watched President Obama's address today in Language Arts, and that one of the local new stations had been there filming them. The news folks had picked three kids from the class to interview afterwards to hear their reactions to the speech...

Including Peter!

He's going to be on TV!!!!

Fun!

Mr. Armstrong said that the story would start streaming late this afternoon, and they're pretty sure it will be aired tonight at 6 and 11 (for anyone local).

UPDATE:Here's a link to the video of Peter, and here's a link to the text article

Whirlwind weekend

Par for the course -- this weekend, as most long ones do, has FLOWN by. But, we've been reasonably productive.

Yesterday was the (YAY) final, final, final (I hope) touches on David's house. We got the garage cleaned out, one last coat of paint on the laundry room ceiling, and planted a few mums for color. It's got a For Sale sign out front, and hopefully will go fast (and high!) Great location, if anyone's moving to Cary!

We came home and spent a couple of hours with Cindi and Chris (and Marshall and Griffin) who were in town for the UNC-Citadel game, which was fun.

Today while the kids and I were at Sunday School and church (after a stop by Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe, of course), David and Geoff got our small storage unit moved into a large storage unit. Then we came home, and Peter hauled mulch for me, Taylor weeded (actually, she weeded while we were out), Grace folded a load of laundry, and I cut the grass. Dang.

THEN, because we were all hot, tired, and wanted to play not work, we headed to the pool for a couple of hours.

And now we're back, David is making a Key Lime cheesecake, Grace is (still) folding her load of laundry, Peter's XBoxing, Geoff and Taylor are WoWing, and I'm blogging.

Seems like a lot for one weekend, and I'm tired! Can't decide if tomorrow should be pruning my shrubs, or sheer and utter laziness.

So, am I a morning person? Or not?

I've always (or at least all my adult life) thought of myself as innately a morning person. When/if I excercise, I prefer to do it first thing in the morning. I love sunrises, and the peacefulness right before dawn. I can't think of anything better than being awake and on my deck with a nice cup of coffee then.

But, I don't get that very often. The reality is, there are beau coup things for me to do/get done in the evening: dinner, activities, laundry, straightening, etc. Not necessarily fun things, mind you (other than dinner), but necessary.

So, yeah, to get up and be sitting on my deck with my coffee, I'd need to wake up 5, 5:30 ish. And going to bed at 10:30 or 11 just doesn't make that possible. I function best on 8 hours of sleep, am fine with 7, but after a day or two of 6 or fewer hours of sleep, I just get fuzzy-brained.

Still, I've been getting up a little earlier, in order to run with Tucker. It's making me happy because I'm running, and it's early. Tucker is happy, cause, well, he's a dog and it doesn't take much to make him happy.

But after today, I think the fuzzy-brained-ness is kicking in, and perhaps I'm not as much of a morning person as I thought!

The International Space Station was due to be passing over my part of the globe between 5:57 and 6:03 this morning. I DID see it, but here's a rough paraphrase of my thought process during it:

Oh, I should be looking for the Space Station. I think it's near Venus. Oh, there's Venus! Wait, Venus was in the east yesterday, and that's west.....Wait, Venus is moving!!!! That's not right!!!

(pause)

Oh! THAT'S the Space Station!!! Cool!

pause to watch Space Station move across the sky. Tucker is looking at me wondering why we're not running.

MAN! There are PEOPLE up there!

Um, yes. Yes there are.

Not my most stellar intellectual moment!

If it's September...

I must be waiting for a kid. Or going to a meeting for a kid. Or driving a kid.

Last night was Geoffrey's Scout night -- his Dad's in DC, so I drove him. To Apex, mind you.

Tonight was the Gifted meeting at Peter and Geoff's school. Again, being the only parent (or quasi-parent, as the case may be) in the general area, I went.

Tonight was also Peter's Scout night. So, yeah, left work, drove to gifted meeting, met, drove home, cooked, ate, Peter changed, drove to his Scout meeting, and now I'm (yay) sitting in a coffee shop, blogging, Facebooking, emailing...Oh, and drinking cappucino.

Yeah, baby.

And, a note on this "Gifted" meeting -- this school has a reasonably good, as school's go, website, including a map of the school. They have a front desk that is pretty much always manned. Our kids all go there. The PTA sends out reminders of meetings, AND the meetings are posted on the aforementioned website.

Yet a surprising number of parents were late, couldn't find the media center, didn't find out till late, yada yada yada yada.

Oh, and after being explicitly told (twice) "I'd rather have questions in email so that I can take the time to answer it well, but if there's something critical I can stick around briefly afterwards", we interrupted at least a half dozen times. And another half dozen or more folks (out of maybe 25) stuck around afterwards for "critical" questions.

So, what exactly does that say about those of use who are "gifted" parents? Um, we don't read email, can't retain information, don't know how to do on-line research, and refuse to listen to the rules of the classroom.

Hmmmm.

Ok, so perhaps I'm a bit cynical tonight!

Since when

Is disappear an action you can take on another person? As in, and I paraphrase from NPR no less, "The government persecuted the leftists, and in extreme cases would disapper them"

Excuse me? Disappear them? Now, I understand the point -- the government did not overtly kill/kidnap/deport/etc. these people. The people just...disappeared.

But still. Is this really common usage now?

Yeah, I know. I sound curmudgeonly. "In my day, we didn't make up new words!"

The Daily Dilemma

So, every afternoon around this time, my office gets cold. Not sure why, but it does.

Now, I have a shawl that I wrap up in when I'm chilly. More importantly, I have a laptop, and my window gets afternoon sun. So, cat-like, I can go sit in the sunny spot. I can even sit in the sunny spot while wrapped in my shawl (which is more old-lady-like than cat-like).

But every afternoon around this time, I enter my post-prandial sleepy phase. And sitting in a sunny spot, particularly while wrapped in a shawl, is somewhat soporific.

So, the Daily Dilemma: do I freeze, or risk falling asleep?

Ahhhhh

I woke up this morning, and when I went out to run, it was a lovely mid-60's temperature.

I walked outside around 10 am, and it was sunny and warm (NOT hotter 'n hell and half of Georgia), with a mild breeze.

I love fall. Even if it'll be hot as stink another few weeks and this is just a tease, I LOVE fall.