On My Nightstand: 2013

Remember last year's post about the books I read? Well I've kept track, and in the interest of giving (You know the line. Repeat after me: I'm a giver!) and making sure that you have some good pages to turn, I'm sharing the books that kept me from doing laundry occupied my time and shared space on my nightstand this year.

I'll list them by month, then title and author. I'll give you a little blurb on those that are my particular favorites.

January

Help, Thanks, Wow--Anne Lamott

One Thousand Gifts--Ann Voskamp
      Dreamy writing, wonderful message.

The Sense of an Ending--Julian Barnes


February

The Silver Linings Playbook--Matthew Quick
     The movie was good, the book was better.

Where'd You Go, Bernadette?--Maria Semple
      Any main character that hates all Canadians piques my interest. (Not that I have anything against Canadians. I just found that very funny.)

Argo--Antonio Mendez

The Girls from Ames--Jeffrey Zaslow
     If you've maintained friendships with girls who "knew you when" you'll enjoy this book.

March

Fall of Giants: The Century Trilogy--Ken Follett

Winter of the World--Ken Follett

Pride and Prejudice--Jane Austen
     A particular favorite that I revisit every few years.

April

80 Days--Matthew Goodman
     The true story of the widely known Nellie Bly, the unknown Elizbeth Bisland and their quest to see who could travel around the world in 80 days first. Exciting, interesting, and true!

Calling Invisible Women--Jeanne Ray

Carry On, Warrior: Thoughts on Life Unarmed--Glennon Doyle Melton
     Melton's book is at turns thoughtful and humorous. Her ideas that we are more alike than different and that Love Wins are ideas I can get behind.

A Red Herring without Mustard--Alan Bradley
     If you haven't read any of Bradley's books starring precocious 11 year old Flavia de Luce, you are missing out. Flavia is fascinated with chemistry, bicycles and death and is hell bent to solve the mysteries that seem to find their way into her life. Entertaining and then some.

May

Flight Behavior--Barbara Kingsolver
    I have yet to read one of Kingsolver's books that leaves me flat. She is a wonderful writer with well developed characters and interesting plots.

The Interestings--Meg Wolitzer

I Am Half Sick of Shadows--Alan Bradley
     More Flavia!!

Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk--Ben Fountain

June

Wave--Sonali Deraniyagala
     The harrowing story of how the author survived the 2004 tsunami while her family (parents, husband, and two sons) perished. Horrifying, beautiful, and compelling.

A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again--David Foster Wallace

The Happiness Project--Gretchen Rubin

The Lion is In--Delia Ephron

How to be Good--Nick Hornby

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime--Mark Haddon (another re-read)

The Handmaid's Tale--Margaret Atwood

The Chaperone--Laura Moriarty
     A fictionalized account of actress Louise Brooks and her chaperone on a trip to New York City in the summer of 1922. A page-turner that left me wanting to read more by the author.

July

Me Before You--Jojo Mayes

Tell the Wolves I'm Home--Carol Rifka Brunt
    Set in the 80's when AIDS was a terrifying and stigmatizing scourge about which little was known. A wonderfully wrought story of sisters, family, and love.

What Alice Forgot--Liane Moriarty (not to be confused with Laura Moriarty, above)
    A story of love, indifference, anger, forgiveness, and amnesia.

The Art of Fielding--Chad Harbach
   Love and baseball. Lots and lots of baseball.

The Cukoo's Calling--Robert Gilbraith (who is really J.K. Rowling)

August

The Hypnotist's Love Story--Liane Moriarty

The Silent Wife--A.S.A. Harrison

The Moonflower Vine--
   An old-time novel--the author's only book. Well developed characters with good story lines. This is a re-read for me.

September

Black Water Rising--Attica Locke

Red Sparrow--Jason Matthews

Eleanor and Park--Rainbow Rowell
     Don't let the author's name put you off. This was one of my favorite books of the year. Set in the 80's, I related to so much of this book. I loved the characters, the plot, the writing, the flow of this book. It left me wrecked to read anything else for quite a while afterwards.

The Great Gatsby--F. Scott Fitzgerald
     A re-read. Yep. It still holds up even all these years after reading it my Junior year in English class.

Attachments--Rainbow Rowell

The Husband's Secret--Liane Moriarty

October

The Art of Hearing Heartbeats--Jan-Philipp Sendker

November

I somehow did not manage to read a single thing during the whole month of November. I dunno. Maybe I read cereal boxes.

December

Double Down: Game Change 2012--Mark Halperin and John Heilemann

Hyperbole and a Half--Allie Brosh
     Blogger Allie Brosh has put much of her blog in book form. Her blog, which is half writing, half cartoon, and all fabulous is made up of the stories that make up her life. In the book she talks of her dogs (her dog Simple Dog and my Dumb Dog simply HAVE to be related), a psychotic goose, being the god of cake, and her personality (trust me, funnier than it sounds.) She also describes her descent into, slog through, and slow climb out of debilitating depression in a way that should be required reading. (trust me, this is, somehow, in some ways, also funnier than it sounds) I read this book in about a day. Fast, funny, and terrifyingly relatable.

One Summer: America 1927--Bill Bryson
     I love Bill Bryson. If he wrote a story about phone books, I would read it. I am only half-way through this book, and I'm amazed at the many important things that happened in the very busy summer of 1927.



2013 wins over 2012 by almost 10 books read. (42 1/2 to 33) Yowza! It's a wonder I got any laundry done at all this year.  (Said the woman writing this in her pajamas. ;)  ) In 2014, I'm just planning on foregoing laundry and having my family wear togas and go commando so that I can READ ALL THE BOOKS!

If you read something wonderful and feel you have to tell someone or you may burst want to share it, please share in the comments section. I'm always looking for the next book for my nightstand.

Thanks for stopping by to read my ramblings this year. May you have a blessed 2014!

I Think I Have Developed TLDBCSD

That would be The Little Drummer Boy Challenge Stress Disorder. What is The Little Drummer Boy Challenge? Essentially it is a game where in the player does his best to avoid hearing the (dreaded) Christmas song between Black Friday and Christmas Eve. If you hear it, you are dead. Out. Done for. Now, you can't be tricked into hearing it (as my beloved keeps wanting to do to me) and it doesn't count if someone who knows you are playing sings it to you or otherwise sets you up, but all other instances count. This has led to some rather ridiculous behavior on my part.

Er, more ridiculous than usual, anyway.

On Saturday, my beloved and I were returning cable boxes belonging to a certain company that I shall not name, but will tell you rhymes with Hay Schmee & Schmee. (Huzzah for faster internet and the ability for all of us to operate devices in the house without feeling like we want to murder someone!) As we were waiting in the UPS store, I could hear the dulcet crooning of Nat King Cole singing The Christmas Song and I began to get antsy. I could feel my heart begin to race and I looked at my beloved and told him that if Nat started wrapping up the tune before we were done, he was on his own, because I would be exiting the store. (I also made him go in before me to make sure it was safe to enter.) As we finished, Nat was finishing too and I pretty much ran out of the store in an "every man for himself" manner. Yeah, I love my husband, but I am not responsible for his meandering ways and if he gets himself knocked off, that's his problem. (TRUE LOVE!)

Last week, I was in a large discount store. I had been in there for nearly an hour and just KNEW that I was pushing fate. The Drummer could come for me at any moment. I was standing in line at the checkout behind an older couple. They were a little slow moving, which usually is no problem, but this time was causing my palms to sweat. I was polite, but was ever so slowly inching my cart forward as they took their time putting on coats and gloves and carefully rearranged the bags in their cart. (Even now I'm breaking into a bit of a cold sweat thinking about it.) As I pulled forward, ready and eager to pay and beat a hasty retreat, the cashier smiled at me and said with a big grin that showed she was blissfully unaware of The Boy and his bent on destruction, 'Just a sec, gotta change the receipt tape!" I shifted back and forth on my feet, I cleared my throat. 'Sure! No problem!' I lied. I was listening to the current carol wind down and was certain that the sound of pah-rum-pum-pum-pumming would be coming for me. As the cashier got the tape in and proceeded to ring up my purchases, the audio loop changed to an in-store ad for something and I started to breathe faster. When the commercial was done, the cashier was still ringing things up and happily chatting to me. I had no idea what she was saying, for I was nodding and uh-huh-ing absently while listening for the dreaded drums. And suddenly, my friends--IT WAS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!! The next song was no carol. Instead, my ears were treated to the sweet, sweet sound of Blondie singing "Call Me." I very nearly broke down and wept. I kept willing the cashier to move quickly on my purchases, because I still had to exit the store. Blondie was well into the second verse by the time my packages were bagged. I lobbed a hasty "thank you!" over my shoulder and veritably SPRINTED for the exit. I made it to my van, sweating, breathing heavily, and only able to whisper a hoarse "thanks!" to the Muzak Gods who intervened on my behalf.

That evening, it was a simple yawn that kept me from being slain along with my son. We had been watching the SNL holiday show, giggling as Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg gave inappropriate gifts in a box, when suddenly I yawned. Not a dainty yawn, but a great big, gaping, canyon of a yawn. It was then that I decided that I should hit the hay. I bid my boy goodnight, went upstairs, performed my evening ablutions, and crawled into bed, exhausted from the trauma of earlier in the day. I wasn't in bed long when I heard an unearthly wail from downstairs. My son came up and told me that The Boy had just slain him via Will Ferrell as Robert Goulet. (Every year, this skit kills thousands who don't mute or leave in time. The humanity!) You know how experts are always saying that we should listen to our bodies? I BELIEVE. That yawn saved me.

It's just a minefield out there, friends! I've taken to going to the grocery with headphones on. Yes, I've become one of those people! I make my non-playing/slain family members enter buildings before me. I've always liked shopping online because I can shop in my pajamas. Now, I know we've all seen those girls who are out in public with their hair piled on top of their heads, no make up on, and in pajamas. I'm pretty sure my own daughter has done this. And they can get away with it. They look cute, even. But y'all. I'm 45 years old. NO ONE wants to see me sans makeup, in my pajamas with a messy bun. (My beloved sees my this way last thing at night, first thing in the morning. LUCKY.) So really, shopping online is serving both myself AND mankind. (You are welcome. I am a giver. Again. So. Generous.) I've done most of my shopping online this season to avoid The Boy. I changed the presets on my radio. I have a Drummer Boy Free playlist of Christmas songs on Spotify. I gave my 9 year old daughter the third degree regarding her choir concert, making sure that no drumming of any kind would be taking place. I may or may not have told her that if The Boy was making an appearance, I would be in the bathroom for that performance. Fortunately for all of us, her concert was percussion free.

I'm jittery every time I go out. It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Part of me wants to just jump in front of the Drummer Boy train to get it over with already. But the competitor in me just will not give up. Last year, I went down early thanks (NO THANKS AT ALL) to the unholy pairing of The Boy and Bob Seeger. I refuse to be slain in such an inhumane way this year.

So if you need me, I'll be here. In front of my computer, trolling Amazon, wearing my pajamas and blissfully Drummer Boy Free.

Be safe out there, y'all. He's just waiting to do you in.

Last Week

I was busy last week. That explains my lack of posting. I was busy. BOOM! Best excuse ever! It explains everything without getting overly involved.

"We missed you at the PTO meeting."
"Sorry. I was busy."

"Why are you late for this appointment?"
"I was busy."

"Mom! You were supposed to pick me up 15 minutes ago!"
"I was busy."

"Why are we just now eating dinner at 7:15?"
"I was busy."

Then, when people try to ask you what you were busy with, you change the subject back to them, in either a positive or negative way.

"I am so impressed with the way you are running the PTO this year! Never in a million years would I be able to take on such a responsibility!" (HAHAHA!! Why??? Because I'M BUSY!!)

"You know, the staff here in this office is always so kind and efficient. I really hope these doctors know how lucky they are to have such a great staff!"

"Hey, I was looking on Skyward and I noticed that your English grade isn't looking so good, what's going on?"

"Wow, honey, you are looking especially good in your unshowered, unshaven, state! And the bicycle shorts only add to the glamour. Sexy! Here, have some potatoes!"

Or, if that takes too much effort, you could just type a few things on your blog and add pictures. Because the pictures will surely explain what you have been busy with.

I was busy trying to escape enormous spiders with 6 foot webs that MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEAR within 10 minutes of viewing it.

I was busy trying to figure out just what is in her mouth and why she felt the need to photograph it on my phone. #photobomb

I was busy trying to figure out if this is the new duckface selfie.  #photobombedagain

I was busy...um...still scratching my head over this one.... #seriouslytherewereabout15oftheseonmyphone

I was busy sending snarky texts to my daughter when she informed me that she would be late coming home from school. #motheroftheyearproof1

I was busy helping my son get ready for the big rivalry football game. #motheroftheyearproof2

I was busy sending pictures of duct tape to my other son in order to find out his preference on which one he would prefer I use to put on his cleats. #motheroftheyearproof3

I was busy taking very hip and chic selfies with my youngest. 

I was busy rescuing a leopard frog from our window well.

I was busy eating frozen custard with my family.

I was busy marveling at the light.

I was busy watching my daughter spin circles in her "twirly skirt."

I was busy taking pictures of my daughter's pillow perm. This picture doesn't even do it justice--you should've seen the back! #motheroftheyearproof4

I was busy helping my Beloved pick out new glasses. And by that I mean absently nodding in his direction and grunting "uh huh" at every pair of specs while really prowling the store for the frames I want when I go in to get new glasses soon. 

I was busy trying not to melt at my son's first game of the season. 

I'm busy trying to distract you from the ridiculousness of this post with a picture of an adorable Great Dane who was at my son's game. The game didn't end so well, but she was fabulous entertainment.

So. There you have it. I've have been busy, wouldn't you agree?

Um...look! Cute doggy!!

Tiling The Pantry (And Finally Beating My Procrastination)

Remember in my last post how I was kinda, sorta procrastinating? Remember how it all started? You know, because I was loath to begin the project of "tiling" my pantry? Well, my friends, I am happy to report that the job is finished. And the outcome is good.

I've actually done this project in a few closets in our home and my reluctance to start didn't have anything to do with the difficulty of the project. "Tiling" the shelves is a fairly simple affair in and of itself. It's emptying and culling through the 250 pounds of crap and then placing it back in that makes me want to do anything else. And I mean anything! I would rather listen to my children whine about boredom than empty, cull, and replace items in the pantry. I would rather play infinity games of Candyland--and you all know how I feel about Candyland. I would rather shave my legs with a vegetable peeler and then soak them in a bath of salt and lemon juice. I guess what I'm saying, is it's not my favorite thing.

But! It does make a difference in how things operate around here. It's so much easier to cook dinner when I can actually see what I have that isn't going to result in a a case of botulism. It's so much easier to find medications to heal my hypochondriacs preshus baybays when they are under the weather. It's so much easier for my beloved to find razors/soap/floss/good-lord-anything-at-all-damn-you-Y-chromosome when everything is labeled and in it's place.

One of the things that I loved about this house when we moved in was the abundance of closets. We had plenty of room to move in all our crap and the space for it to multiply--as it does when given the room. What I didn't love was that all the shelving was wire shelving. (#firstworldprobs, right?) I hated that things toppled over more easily and that if things spilled, they spilled through the shelves and onto the stuff below. (Syrup, I am looking at you.) So when I saw this idea featured on a blog I frequent (sometimes just for the pretty pictures and the fantasy of ever being that organized, because, yo, it ain't that way up in here, you know what I'm sayin'?) I thought it was a brilliant and inexpensive and totally doable solution. I mean, ideally, I'd have some sort of melamine or solid shelving, but given that my beloved has a million things on his To Do List already, I figured I could handle this one on my own and it wouldn't involve power tools or swearing. (Much.)

I headed to Ye Olde Big Box Hardware Store and bought the cheapest peel and stick tiles I could find. I didn't care what they looked like. My only criteria was that they had to have a smooth surface so that anything I placed on it would be stable. Then I cleared out 250 pounds of crap, culled through it, getting rid of anything that was past it's prime, and set to putting the tiles in. I started at the fronts of the shelves and put in as many full tiles as I could and then I worked on cutting the tiles to fill in the gaps. This is where it gets more tricky and time consuming. It's not really that hard and all told, the tiling for each closet/pantry only took about 45 minutes. But because the walls and shelves are not perfectly square, each cut tile has to be done individually--I couldn't just measure one gap and make identical cuts for all the cut tiles. Does that make sense? And the only tools I needed were a utility knife and a straight edge (I used a metal framing square).

So for all my fussing and moaning and procrastinating, I wound up with this:

Please don't judge the crappy photos. I took these with my phone to send to my mom and used them out of sheer laziness because I didn't want the hassle of starting all over with my good camera. Laziness, it's the new black! Or something!

Don't judge by what's on the floor. I wasn't done when I snapped these. That area is now clean and organized. With only a smidge--okay, a lot--of dog hair thrown in to keep things real.

I've used this method in the hall linen closet, the closet in our master bath, and the pantry and closet in our kitchen. That, combined with the shoe hangers, (which I used in all except the master bath closet) have made it much easier to store and find things in a hurry. Now my storage spaces are in good shape. You might even say they are Y Chromosome Proof.

Although that might be pushing things.

Because My Mother Taught Me To Say "Thank You"

It's May. And for as much as I groused in my last post about dreading some things in May, well, today the sun is shining, the windows are open, and the birds are serenading me. (I can pretend, people.) In short, I'm feeling pretty blessed this morning.

While I was reading through my blog feeds this morning, I came upon this. Go read it. Seriously, I'll wait.

Mmmkay. Done? Having been a special education teacher for about 10 years before I started having children and having children of my own, I understand both sides of that particular coin. And today, I want to say a few words to the teachers who meant so much and made a difference in my own life.

Mrs. Fluss (Bertauski)--You made 3rd grade so fun. I remember the pranks you pulled on other teachers and the ones they pulled on you. That left an impression. It made me think that a workplace could be enjoyable and full of camaraderie. Your unit on space ignited a love of all things space related. Seriously--when my mom and I visited the Smithsonian Air & Space museum for my 40th birthday and I got to meet real live astronauts? I got all fangirl giggly and teary-eyed. Embarrassing-- but in a good way? You set the bar high for any teacher that came after you.

Mr. Espindola--You made this hypochondriac girl want to attend school. You were young and full of ideas. It also helped that you were cute. I remember your unit on government and the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution test we had to take. It was hard. You pushed us and encouraged us and made us believe that we could do hard things. And we rose to that and did hard things. (Because of you and Schoolhouse Rock, I can still sing the preamble of the Declaration of Independence some 35 years later.) And the time for the health unit that we got to make breakfast at school? That was unheard of at the time and our class was giddy at the prospect. I looked to your example when I taught my own students to try new and unheard of ideas.

Mrs. Carlton--You made me love writing. You made me love literature. You made me believe I could write. And you did it all in a way that made me love you.

Mrs. Moseley--I can't pretend to be a good speaker. I convey my thoughts much better through the written word. But your speech class was a comfortable, safe place to learn public speaking skills. Your critiques were always honest and encouraging, making getting up to the podium a little less intimidating. So even though I still get muddled when speaking to adults, when speaking to kids, I know my audience and I can rock that mother out!

Mr. White--Algebra was scary and hard. But you wouldn't let that stop me. I was intimidated by numbers and by you, but you didn't let that get in the way of trying to help me to "get it." That time I got a B+ on a test? I know how I felt as a student. And years later, when working with students who found things scary and hard--students who were intimidated--I didn't let that get in the way of trying to help them "get it." And when they would come to show me a good grade? I know how you must have felt when I got that B+. Well done, sir.

Mrs. McVey--When we were studying poetry, I was like just about every other student in your class and I inwardly groaned my way through it. I had no idea that studying poetry would plant a seed that would grow into a love for words of all kinds. I had no idea that the words of Blake, Housman, Chaucer, Coleridge, Cummings, Eliot, Frost, and Thomas among others would someday come home to roost in my head and my heart. Thank you for encouraging me as a writer.  When you selected an essay I had written to take to a conference/contest, your actions confirmed my abilities. And now, even though there are plenty of people who write better than I, I know that my words have worth and that I will write anyway.

Dr. Caldwell--You stand out among all my college professors. Your genuine love of and compassion for special needs students was evident in the way you prepared us to become teachers ourselves. You were encouraging and funny and wanted us to give our very best all the time. I will never forget when a student in our class was absent because his wife was in premature labor and you asked us to pray for them and drop them a card. Or the time when you loaned my folks your car to help them get home and then you gave me a ride back to the house I lived in. Of course it helped that you and my folks went way back, but I'm fairly certain that you would have done this for any other student had they called you. Thank you for teaching me kindness, generosity, and compassion have a place inside and outside of the classroom.

And to many other teachers that I didn't mention, but that touched my life in countless ways, thanks to you too, for your hard work, dedication, professionalism, and joy in your work. Your work has eternal significance. Well done!

Now it's your turn: Comment and tell me who were your favorite teachers and why?

Feel Free To Paint Your Toenails During This Post

I'm back! Not that I was really gone, I've been here. I mean, around. You know, physically. But after the events in Boston and Texas, I just felt like I needed a vacation from media for awhile. Because I'm such a delicate bunny.

It's not like I accomplished much while I wasn't here writing. Although there was this:

She went to prom with her beau. She went with a group of about 10 other couples. And the whole thing made me think some stuff to myself. Stuff like: Self, you cannot possibly have a daughter old enough to attend prom, because you are only a few years past that yourself! And: Self, this is just a preview. Someday you'll be watching her in a white dress. And then: Self, you must knock off that kind of thinking! And finally: Self, you are getting old. That stuff you said about just being past prom yourself? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Also, I may have found a new energy source. I think if you could find a way to harness the light that was coming off these kids, BAM! You could light the world! I mean, they were all just so beautiful and fresh and full of light. And they had absolutely no idea!

Youth is wasted on the young.

Let's see....what else?

Um, there was laundry. And dog walking. And trying to keep the dog from walking off with the laundry. Seriously. This has become a thing now. I walk down the hall past the laundry room and I find a random piece of underwear or dirty sock or damp dishrag laying in the middle of the floor. At first, I was blaming the children, thinking they were knocking stuff off of the ever-present-piles of dirties in their haste to grab a clean garment and get out of the laundry room before I could catch them in there and make them take their WHOLE pile of clean clothes back to their room instead of just retrieving one. piece. at. a. time. But then, it dawned on me that the culprit was more than likely the Dumb Dog, what with her excellent nose and the fabulous smelling capabilities that go with it. Oh yeah, and her propensity to find absolute joy in the grossest smelling stuff. Yep. Would that I could find the same joy! It would make doing laundry and spending any amount of time in either of my sons' rooms so much nicer.

Hmmm....there was also taking my younger son to the dermatologist to have something removed from his back and standing by his head to comfort him whilst the doc cut an inch long, nearly inch deep incision into his back. Guess what we talked about while this little procedure was going on? Pizza. It was highly disturbing. And I'm not usually grossed out by stuff like that. In fact, for the first part of it, I was pretty fascinated. And then the discussion of pizza came up and I had to stop watching for a bit. You're welcome.

Also, my house is the poster child for entropy. I have been trying to systematically go through the house and clean things up and throw things out. My children have been systematically going through the house and messing things up and bringing things in. This has been causing me to systematically eyeball my wine bottles more times a day than I should probably mention.

And now that it's almost May (and thank the heavens above, because April? You have bitten it HARD. It's been wet and cold around here. Hey April! Don't let the door hitcha on your way out!) I am equal parts excitement and dread. Excitement because YAY! Warmer weather (Sweet cracker sandwiches! It BETTER get warmer)! And warmer weather means more time outside playing and watching baseball and grilling and walking the Dumb Dog. And also, May means school is almost out. Dread because school is almost out and that means projects and Special Days which require my time and attention when I am in no mood or shape to give any more time or attention to anything but painting my toenails. Seriously. That's my attention span right there. If it takes longer or requires more effort than painting my toenails, I'm out.

Whew! I feel much better! Thanks for reading. Or alternatively, thanks for pretending to read while you painted your toenails.

Last Week: Or Seven Days Of Excuses About Why I Couldn't Blog

I know it seems like I've been completely lame about posting and I'd like to say that my last post sucked all of my creativity and you know, making with the words out of me, but really it's just that my life has been extraordinarily ordinary lately. My life has been like watching paint dry. Except that watching paint dry is much more exciting and interesting than my life. Also, the last week has been fraught with roadblocks to blogging. To wit:

Sunday: I spent 7 hours in various waiting and exam rooms in doctors' offices and hospitals with my eldest. She has a pain in her ribs. She had x-rays and blood work (because of which my poor sweetums became white as a sheet, nearly keeled over, and immediately barfed up the juice the nurses gave her. Girl doesn't do blood work.) and probably a total of 40 minutes with various medical personnel. We spent the rest of the time either waiting in rooms or lobbies, moving from one building to another, or moving from one room to another, or doing paperwork. The results? Um, inconclusive. They know what it isn't, but can't tell us what is causing her the pain. The moral of this medical adventure? The weekend urgent care clinic is probably not the best place to seek out care for this type of problem. We should have waited a little and gone to her regular doc. I'm guessing we could've skipped a few steps. Oh well, at least I wasn't stuck in the laundry room for 7 hours.

Monday: Because of the activities of the weekend--namely Maggie's Medical Adventure in Hospital Land-- I spent 7 hours in the laundry room. But at least we were all in relative good health.

Tuesday: I spent the day in bed trying not to expire from The Worst Cold Ever. Seriously. It was the worst. I'm sure it was worse than any cold suffered by any human in the history of the world. Do you know why? Because it was happening to me. Duh! Anyway. It was nasty. And gross. And horrible. But at least it wasn't a migraine.

Wednesday: I spent the day in bed trying not to expire from The Migraine From Hell. This sucker came roaring in about the time I took Mary to the bus stop. She looked at me and said, "I can tell you don't feel good. Does your head hurt?" When I barely nodded my aching noggin, she said, "Oh I'm sorry! But at least you didn't throw up!" So naturally when I got back to the house, the vomiting started. Migraines are horrible. Vomiting is bad. But combining the two is a rather specific sort of hell. You can't keep your migraine meds down because you're vomiting. And because of this the pain continues, which leads to more nausea and vomiting. It's delightful. And by delightful I mean I spent a very long time wishing that God would just kill me already before my eyeballs exploded from the pressure leaving a nasty mess for someone--probably my mother, because goodness knows the people I live with wouldn't know what cleaning up was like--to clean up. I was finally able to time the medication just right with the waves of nausea and passed out in my bed with the heating pad covering my head. I couldn't think straight, but at least I had the power of speech.

Thursday: I woke up Thursday morning after 36 hours of fighting The Migraine From Hell and felt much better. But I sounded like Barry White. After he smoked two packs of cigarettes a day for 30 years. Except for when I had no voice at all. It was extremely sexy. I alternated between a squeaky whisper and a very bass rasp. It's no wonder that my husband, upon returning from a business trip gave me an air kiss in the area of my forehead. While holding his breath. Lucky guy. I had been stuck in the house all week, but at least I'd be getting out tomorrow for lunch with a group of friends.

Friday: Lunch with friends was lovely. Unfortunately it was a very small group, as a couple of the girls discovered at the last minute that they couldn't come. Still, lunch with friends is always a good thing. And this lunch was great after the week I'd had. I was out of bed, I was out of the house, my head felt normal, I could breathe, (well, sort of. Every breath made my sinus cavities feel like they do after you snort water.) and I had my voice back.

Saturday: Who blogs on Saturday?

Sunday: I finally found my kitchen island! It only took two hours of picking up, wiping down, disinfecting, vacuuming, and mopping, but there it was! Smack in the middle of my kitchen, right where I'd left it. Then there was shopping for shoes for prom with my daughter. And then shopping for a cape for my eldest son. Yes, a cape. I'm not sure why exactly, his explanation had something to do with his English class,  Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, and Batman. I'm shaking my head even as I type that. Then it was time for dinner, followed by the daily round of a little game I like to call "Who Has Homework?" wherein the various contestants tell me if they have homework, why it sucks, and why they shouldn't have to do it. This is followed by several rounds of a game I call "Do It Now Or I'll Continue To Make Threats I Won't Follow Through On." Then the movie "The Breakfast Club" was on and I had to stop and watch it, because, hey, it's "The Breakfast Club." Then, after editing my daughter's paper that she had to write for Geometry (yes, they make them write papers in math class. Ah, for the days when math class was spent doing, um, math!) I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Today: I get to do laundry and you get this mess of a post. We're ALL winners!!

Things That Kept Me From Doing Laundry Or A List Of Books I Read This Year

Why hello there! Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Lots of other things that require exclamation points!

It seems I haven't written since before Christmas. Hmm...it's like someone forgot she has a blog. Or perhaps it's like someone was busy with shopping and wrapping and cleaning and cooking and entertaining and laundry and eating and sledding and shoveling and laying about watching bad television. It's one of those things, anyway.

But before this year ends, I thought that I might share with you one of the other things that has kept me busy: reading. I have certainly done some reading this year, my friends. In fact, I'm quite certain that my reading has caused me, on more than one occasion, to neglect certain of my duties (hello laundry, I'm looking at you!) and possibly even caused me to hide from my children.

And so, because, as I have often stated here, I am a giver and I love nothing more than gushing over my new favorite book with a fellow book lover, I am sharing with you a list (some with commentary) of the books that I have read this year.

January
A Game of Thrones (book1)
A Clash of Kings (book 2)
A Storm of Swords (book 3)
A Feast for Crows (book 4)
A Dance with Dragons (book 5)
All by George R.R. Martin

Yes, I read them all last January. There are so many characters in this series, that I was afraid that if I tried to come back to them after an absence, I would forget the many characters and plot lines. This series is not for everyone. It's fantasy and sometimes quite, um, earthy. I understand that these books are now a series on HBO, but we don't have HBO and quite frankly, I'm not all that interested in watching it. I don't know if book 6 is out yet, and I'm not sure I'll be able to read it when it is. See: concerns regarding characters and plot lines after an absence.

February
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
     This is technically a young adult book, but I have to say that I enjoyed it very much and appreciate Mr. Green's writing. While I read this book back in February, it has stuck with me all year. I will be encouraging my two older children (they are 16 and 14) to read it.

Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo

This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper
     After all the heavy books I read this month, this book was a welcome change. I laughed out loud several times by the situations the main character in this book found himself in and the dialogue as well. It was fast paced and funny and made me want to read more by this author.

March
Swamplandia! by Karen Russell
     I'm sorry to say that as many tries as I gave this book, coming back to it again and again, I just could not finish this book. As well received as it was by critics, I just couldn't fight my way through.

Plan B by Jonathan Tropper

April
The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman
    It took me a while to get into this book, but once I did, I was glad I stuck with it. I enjoyed this book--even though the subject matter (It's the story of 5 women on Masada. And we know how things ended on Masada.) was tough. Ms. Hoffman's writing is lovely.

May
Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott

Some Assembly Required by Anne Lamott
     Ms. Lamott could write laundry soap instructions and I would enjoy reading them.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Coast Trail by Cheryl Strayed
     I found this book by turns funny and agonizing. It kept me reading and it made me want to walk the Pacific Coast Trail, much the way Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods made me want to take on the Appalachian Trail.

June
The Hangman's Daughter by Oliver Potzsch

The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner
     Mr. Weiner's quest for the happiest place on earth was a joy to read and made me happy that I didn't have to travel but could enjoy his discoveries from the comfort of my own couch.

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel
     A fictionalized biography about Thomas Cromwell's rise to power in the court of Henry VIII of England. I'm a bit of a sucker regarding books about ol' Henry and this book didn't disappoint. It was an exceptional book and won several awards. I haven't yet read its sequel Bring up the Bodies, but it is on my list.

July
Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
     If you have not yet read this tricky, twisty, twisted thriller, I'm betting you know someone who has. Enjoyment may be the wrong word for how I felt when I read this book, but if enjoying it was wrong, I don't want to be right.

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson
     Steve Jobs was a strange cat. Brilliant. Egotistical. Visionary. And strange. (But golly, do I love my Mac and iphone. Yes, I worship at the altar of Apple.)

Let's Pretend this Never Happened by Jenny Lawson
     Ms. Lawson is crude. Ms. Lawson uses bad language. Ms. Lawson writes about taxidermied animals and social anxiety and working in human resources. Ms. Lawson is terribly, terribly funny.

August
Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter

The Dog Stars by Peter Heller
     It's a post-apocalyptic story about a man, his dog, and his plane. And it's very, very good. (Okay, maybe it's about a little more than I said. But still, trust me: very, very good.)

September
Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn
    I just couldn't seem to get enough of Ms. Flynn's writing.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
     This book has been out since the early '90s. Not sure how I missed it back then, but I'm glad I read it. And no, I haven't seen the movie.

October
The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman
     This book caught me right away and kept me right to the end. Where I shed great big tears.

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh
    In the Victorian era, people assigned meanings to different flowers and then communicated their feelings to each other through them. This novel follows a young woman leaving the foster care system who speaks the language of flowers better than she speaks her own feelings. I found myself frustrated with the main character and her flaws, but never frustrated with the book.  Loved this book and wish that people still communicated through flowers. I would send some to my neighbors. Heh heh heh.

Killing Lincoln by Bill O'Reilly and Martin Dugard
    Never been a fan of Mr. O' Reilly and was glad that I had this book on my Kindle, so that I didn't have to publicly show that I own a book with his name on it, but still enjoyed the book.

November
The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs
     Funny and enlightening.

A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans
     Funny and enlightening but from a female perspective. If you've ever wanted to shake a fist at the Proverbs 31 woman, your perspective will change after you've read this book. And you will want to congratulate the women of valor in your own life. Eshet chayil!

Sutton by J.R. Moehringer
     A novel based on the life of bank robber Willie Sutton. I look forward to reading more by Mr. Moehringer.

December
I'm certain that I read stuff this month. I mean, stuff that wasn't recipes or Christmas lists, but it wasn't in book form. I was too busy. Well, until now. I'm getting in just under the wire here with starting to read Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers by Anne Lamott and One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp.

I've just started Ms. Lamott's book and Ms. Voskamp's I've been into a little more, but have to keep putting it down to digest it and let it fully wash over me.


Okay, friends. There you have it. A rather long list of the books that have kept me from doing my laundry. Now I'm looking forward to 2013. And guess what? I'm looking for some books to read. Any suggestions?


Thanks for stopping by here at Que Sara Sara this year! May you and yours have a blessed and peaceful 2013!
   

October Randomness

Today at QSS, we have a bit of October randomness for your viewing pleasure. There have been several things burbling about in the dark and scary recesses of my brain--most of which, luckily for you, I won't share here. But, in the interest of full nearly full partial a tiny little bit of disclosure I will share a few.


Thing the First

    This girl?
    She is growing in beauty and wisdom and good stuff. (Wordsmith!) But I also find myself worrying over her. 16 is hard. Hard on her. Harder on me, I think.


Thing the Second
     This boy?
     It is Vocabulary Day at school. No, he isn't going as "The Most Interesting Man In The World." He is dressing as his vocabulary word--"pretentious." Prep school jacket? Check Brandy snifter? Check. Fake posh accent? Check. One hardly sounds pretentious when they are rockin' the Indiana Twang. (I don't have Indiana Twang. I have T-ville Twang. The mother tongue of my hometown. It's all good.)

     We made up a fake school crest, named his school "Pretentious Academy" (his vocab word had to be present somewhere on his costume), and created a Latin motto: Ego Super Omnia--Ego Over All. I'm hoping that the darn things stay attached until his English class. Also, really hoping that the brandy snifter doesn't get tagged as inappropriate and get us both in trouble. I was trying to get him to carry a pipe, but he told me that that was a no-go. I'm not even sure where I could get a pipe, so it's just as well. We've been throwing around lines like "I was lunching with The Donald on his yacht over the weekend when I received an emergency call from the POTUS, asking for my advice regarding the latest polling numbers," and "Oh, summering in the Hamptons is just okay. It seems that the riffraff is taking over. Why, do you know that when I was playing a round with Tiger--who by the way seems to have corrected his back swing per my tutoring--I kept getting texts from Beyonce and JayZ asking when I was going to stop by for a swim and help with the bass on the latest album they are working on? The nerve! Next year I believe we'll summer in Switzerland. The Swiss are sooo much more polite." So you know, good times.


Thing the Third

     This boy? Number 59? He rocked his game on Sunday. He held his blocks on the O-Line and when  they put him in on a couple of defensive plays, he got a tackle in the backfield. Yeah, baby! I'm pretty sure that milkshakes as bribery incentive are working.



Thing the Fourth

     Have you read this? It's changed my perspective on being in pictures. I am doing my best to think about this when a camera comes out and someone wants to take my picture. In fact, it led to a self-portrait session the other day where I came out with a couple of photos I like. They aren't the best--a little fuzzy, a little grainy--but they are something for my kids to look at one day and remember, and that's what I'm aiming for.

If Wishes Were Horses...

I've spent the better part of the last day and a half wishing. Dude. If all my wishes were horses, I'd be riding in style.

I wish...

that the caloric and nutritional value of M&Ms and broccoli were switched.

that I understood science better. That whole thing the Nobel prize winner was working on? So. Confused.

that I wasn't afraid of power tools so that I could work on some things I want to do around here.

I wish...

that parenting was as easy and black and white as I thought it was before I had kids.

that I could take on the heartaches and heart breaks of my children.

that beds made themselves.

I wish...

that I was a dog. Or at least a dog in this house. Life would be so very easy and so very good.

that "end of life" issues were easier.

that fall colors lasted longer.

I wish...

that my mom's visit would've lasted longer.

that my dad had come over for a while, too.

that laundry would get done as quickly in my mother's absence as it does in her presence.

I wish...

that I could look at my camera and feel the need to pick it up and take pictures.

that I could figure out what's wrong with my printer.

that the dumb dog were hairless.

I wish...

that all television shows were as good as Downton Abbey or Call the Midwife.

that teachers and cops and firefighters and nurses would be celebrated for what they do the way the Kardashians are celebrated for doing nothing.

that a pumpkin roll would magically show up on my doorstep along with some apple cider.

I wish...

that I could figure out what to make for dinner.

that groceries were cheaper.

that my sewing machine liked me.

I wish...

that both of my brothers lived closer. I miss them.

that making a decision on paint colors was easier.

that I could have pretty hands.

I wish...

that I had picked the last tomatoes before the frost.

that the election was over so I wouldn't have to listen to the shouting and disrespect and division.

that you could know just how much you coming here and reading my words and leaving comments means to me.

See what I mean? I'd be riding in style. Giddyap!

Because Sometimes It's Perfectly Reasonable Not To Have A Reason

My daughter is currently doing this:

And we wrote this on the cake:

Because sometimes the only reason you need is that your teenage daughter doesn't mind being seen with you. And because the cake was marked down to below half off. And because who doesn't love cake? And because why should we limit the reasons we celebrate to big reasons?

Sometimes the biggest joys are in celebrating the small things.

Today we have no big reason to celebrate. But we have a million small ones. The sun is shining. Hummingbirds are visiting our feeder. Our garden is producing delicious food. School is out. Sleeping in is fabulous. Swimming is a fun and entertaining diversion. We are healthy. We have a lovely home. Our dumb dog makes us laugh and loves us in a big way. My children have been getting on especially well. I have persevered at the gym. My daughter has done well learning to drive. Baseball is over and my son, after a big slump, finally got some hits in his last game. My other son is shaving. My youngest is great at the backstroke. I could go on and on.

Nope. We don't have a reason for buying such a cake. Except it would have been unreasonable not to.

What will you celebrate today?

What I Know

I know some things and it's mostly stuff that you won't give a hoot about, but I'm sharing them anyway.

I know that I never remember kitchen conversions so I have to keep a chart posted inside one of my kitchen cabinets.

I know that I am getting stronger because my trainer made me do some things yesterday that I wouldn't have been able to do a month ago.

I know that I look like this when I'm done with Zumba:

Well hello, Miss Sweaty McStinkerton! What have you been doing?

Sorry. I know that was scary. Hope I didn't make you spit your beverage all over your computer screen.

I know that Sean's last two games were rained out--one in the 4th inning and one before it started. So I also know that even though we've only had 2 games so far this season, we will already be having make up games.

I know that my husband is flying out on business this week. I know that it will be hot where he is. I know he is not looking forward to it. (But it's a dry heat! ;) )

I know that it's going to be in the 80's here this week and that means I will finally get to plant some flowers and get my garden going.

I know that Tilly gets nervous when I do Zumba and cowers in a corner.

I know that I still watch reruns of "Friends" and it still makes me laugh.

I know that Phoebe is still my favorite.

I know that my children have no idea how to replace a lid on the toothpaste tube.

Ditto with the toilet paper.

I know that I have no idea what I'm making for supper tonight.

I know that a trip to the grocery store is in my imminent future.

I know that a trip to the pet store to buy a net for the fish my kids have is also on the list.

I know that we used to have a net.

I know that I have no idea where it went.

I know that "Parks & Recreation" makes me snort.

I know that watching "Awake" with my daughter on Thursday nights is something I look forward to all week. (Oh Mr. Malfoy! Look at you with your American accent and your blue eyes and your weird problem with whether or not your are dreaming your realities!)

I know that I have some graduation gifts to find and I know that I don't really know what to get.

I know that my daughter has already filled in my beloved on what to get me for Mother's Day.

I know that my beloved is trying to act like it's his idea.

I know that watching Mary and Sean play "Double Fine Happy Action Theater" on the Kinect is hilarious.

I know that playing "Double Fine Happy Action Theater" myself is even more fun.

I know that "Double Fine Happy Action Theater" sounds like a horrible Chinese translation.

I know that someone found my blog by using the search term "Patty Prayer doll".

I know that it makes me happy to think that someone else out there had one.

I know that the idea that someone else tortured their own "brother Jon" makes me ecstatic.

I know that my children are all (okay, not Maggie. She knows she needs her sleep and polices herself well.) staying up too late because the daylight hours are getting longer and they are outside doing stuff.

I know that I have a hard time calling them in on time because I love that they are out doing stuff.

And also because I get distracted.

I know that one of my children (*cough*Mary*cough*) is a complete grouch pouch in the mornings if she doesn't get enough sleep.

I know that she is a bit of a hypochondriac.

I know that I was a bit of a hypochondriac at the same age.

I don't know how my mother put up with me.

I know I should quit writing this ridiculous post.

I know that I should go shower.

I know that I'm having a hard time quitting because I'm on a roll with all the things I know.

I know that you are happy this post is done and I also know that you didn't come away knowing any more than you did when you got here.

Summer Feet & Soft Lips

I have my dad's feet. I mean, I don't literally have my father's feet on the bottoms of my legs. That would be...strange. I mean, I inherited dry, cracked feet from him. My mother's feet are soft and ladylike. My dad has man feet. As befits a man.

You know what doesn't befit a lady? Man feet. And I has 'em. (Thanks, dad. Why couldn't I have inherited your natural ability with numbers?) In fact, several years ago, James felt my bare feet and told me that they felt like turtles. I asked him what he meant and he said "dry and scaly." Um...thanks, son. It's not that I didn't know my feet were dry and crackly, it's just that I couldn't find anything to make them less so. They felt great after the occasional pedicure, but they would always revert back to man feet in a few short days.

Until early last winter I was waiting for some paint to be mixed up at Lowe's and something caught my eye. It was this: O'Keefe's Working Hands.

No more turtle feet!

I picked it up and thought I would try it on my hands because they often get small cracks on them in the winter. After using it for a few days, my hands were so soft and the cracks were gone, so I decided to use it on my feet. Friends, it was like a miracle! After a couple of days, my feet were soft, smooth, and not at all crackly or turtle-like in any way. I couldn't believe it. And the best part is, it only takes a little. That tub in the picture? It's my first one and it's just now empty--and that is with both Patrick and I using it. Also? There is no scent that I can detect. And I am very sensitive to scents. I have to be careful, because I find the wrong scent or too strong a scent can trigger a migraine. This has nothing, so it was great for both myself and my beloved.

My feet are soft, smooth, and ready for sandals. And now the only turtles my son talks about are the ones in the back yard.

Okay, so I inherited man feet from my dad. You know what I inherited from my mother? The need to have something on my lips at all times. I have a friend that teases my mom about putting on lipstick after she finishes eating (Hi Melinda!) and once when we were all eating together, I pulled my lipstick out too, and I thought Melinda was going to have a seizure, such was her delight in finding out that I had followed in my mother's footsteps with this.

I'm not sure why mom does it, but my reasons are twofold: 1) despite now drinking over a gallon of water a day, my lips feel dry if I don't have moisturizing lipstick or lip balm on them, and 2) the natural color of my lips is just about the same color as my skin. If I don't put something with a little color on them, I look sickly. Seriously. I have had people ask me if I feel faint or need to sit down.

 So when I found Neutrogena revitalizing lip balm, I was exited to try it. I picked out the color Sunny Berry and it was a great fit with my skin color. Plus, it has SPF 20 in it, so my lips get sun protection as well. Bonus!

Sunny Berry or deathly pale lips? Um, Sunny Berry, please!

Now when I go out somewhere, likely as not, the color on my lips is this sheer lip balm. My lips feel good and I don't have to worry about strangers calling 911 for me.

Why am I sharing this with you? Because when you find something good, you want everyone to know about it! So there. Now you know.

My lips and feet are ready for summer. And the rest of me? Well I'm working on it. :)


**I was not paid or compensated for this post in any way. Trust me, O'Keefe's and Neutrogena have no earthly idea who I am. I just like their products and thought I'd share my opinion.

Truth Is...

The truth is, I am not feeling very inspired to do much lately. Even writing here is hard because I just feel as if I have nothing to say and why should I inflict myself upon people by writing something that isn't worth reading?

The truth is, I have been feeling so uncreative lately that just walking through a craft store yesterday made me angry because I looked at all the stuff and thought, "Ugh!"

The truth is, I love working out. AFTER I have worked out. Because the truth is, I don't like it at all beforehand.

The truth is, I've been working out for almost a month now and I'm not seeing much of a difference. Oh, a pound here or there and a few inches, but the truth is, as hard as I've been working, I feel like I should see a bigger difference than I am.

The truth is, I'm tracking every damn calorie that goes in my mouth.

The truth is, I really like the website that I'm using to do it. (www.myfitnesspal.com)

The truth is, it's a lot harder to eat back all my exercise calories in a healthy way.

The truth is, what I really want to do, is cram about 8 Oreos in my mouth and be done with it.

The truth is, I feel like all I do these days is work out, do laundry, and clean up after slovenly children.

The truth is, I haven't cleaned out my garden yet and I'm going to need to do it soon.

The truth is, Little League has started and while I enjoy watching the games, I don't enjoy watching practice.

The truth is, that when my beloved is out of town and can't take Sean to practice, I have to. And the truth is, I sit in the van, all anti-social like, and read while practice is going on.

The truth is, I love it.

The truth is, I still help Mary get dressed in the mornings. She's seven and has been quite capable of dressing herself for years.

The truth is, she's a little lazy about waking on time and I'm a bit of a control freak and don't trust her fashion choices. Although considering most of her wardrobe consists of jeans and t-shirts, I'm not really sure how she can mess things up.

The truth is, I foresee my helping her dress herself until she's 40. And then she'll have to help me.

The truth is, the passenger side van door has been non-functioning for over a year.

The truth is, if my beloved had to drive the van everyday it would already be fixed.

The truth is, I am TIRED of asking my beloved to have it fixed and so I suffer along in martyred silence.

Okay, the truth is, I suffer along in martyred muttering under my breath.

The truth is, I need to paint the living room, but I'm so worn out after working out most days, that the idea of painting the living room makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and hum soothing songs to myself.

The truth is, I love watching Tilly stretch out in a sun patch and listening to her snore.

The truth is, I could really go for some of my mom's potato salad today. And trust me, I have enough calories left today that I could have plenty.

The truth is, I watched "War Horse" over the weekend with my beloved and James and had a big ol' ugly cry during a very climactic scene. Seriously. Bad. I just don't do that in movies. Patrick gave me a quizzical look and asked if I was going to be all right. I had to pull myself together before having a full blown McConnaughay fit.

The truth is, I love eating salads, I just don't enjoy making them.

The truth is, I don't drink Diet Coke anymore. (I know, right?!?!) I now drink so much water that I have to pee all the time. (You're welcome.)

The truth is, I'm sure that this is better for me, but sometimes I miss the ritual of my morning Diet Coke, even though I don't even crave them anymore.

The truth is, I have now started talking about bathroom habits, and that is just wrong on so many levels. So the truth is, I'm going to stop now and go cook some turkey bacon.

And the truth is, I'll want to eat seven slices, but after killing myself this morning at the Y, the truth is, I'll only eat one.

What are some of your truths? Feel free to share!

Just A Quickie

No. Not that. What kind of blog do you think I'm running here? I may regret giving this post that title later when the google hits from the pervs starts coming, but for now, it's all good.

This quickie is a quick craft project I did yesterday. It all started with a framed painting from Goodwill.

I spray painted the frame black because the silvery/brassy/leopard-spotted frame didn't really do it for me. (Sorry I don't have any completely "before" pictures. I just jumped right in and then remembered to take pictures. Bad blogger!) Then I chose stickers for the word I wanted to stand out, in this case, "peace." That word sometimes seems elusive around here and so I thought that having it staring out at me from a frame, well, if it didn't make me take the time to find some, at least it would look pretty.

So! I stuck the letters onto the landscape painting, and then I painted over them in white. I removed the letters while the paint was wet and cleaned up any smudges from any paint that might have seeped under the stickers. And this is what I'm left with. I like it! I like that the texture of the canvas is varied because of the underlying oil paint underneath and I like the variations in paint color in the letters.

Yes, I know I have some touching up to do on the frame where I got white paint on it. I was too impatient to get started and the black paint on the frame hadn't had time to harden completely and I didn't want to risk having to paint it again, so instead of taping the frame off, I free-handed it. Yes, I know that my free handing looks like I'm suffering from DT's. Whatever. I'll fix it. The point is, I took a not so pretty picture from Goodwill and turned it into something I like much better.

Also? I found this idea somewhere in the pre-Pinterest days and I cannot remember where so I cannot give proper credit. Just know, as usual, this is not an original idea, but, as ever, I am a copycat.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I finally replaced my 50mm lens and now I have some pictures to edit. (I'm sure you'll be seeing them soon. Boring family photo alert! Um...not that we're a boring family. It's just that you'll probably be bored looking at the bazillion pictures I took of my offspring using my nifty fifty. Digression over!) Also, I need to do some laundry since my husband came home at 12:30 this morning after a week on the road. And I need to cook some turkey bacon because my daughter ate the last strip. And I should probably go for a walk and a bike ride. After I get out of my pajamas. Ahem.

Art Show

Sean came home a few weeks ago and very excitedly told us how he had one of his paintings selected to be in the district wide art show. This is a non-juried show, designed to highlight the works of students of all  grade levels throughout the district. Each grade level from each school was represented and there were many different forms of art--painting, drawing, sculpture, print making, graphic design, photography, fabric art (weaving and such)--and they were all on display for two days at Maggie's high school.

I was astounded at not just the sheer number of pieces displayed, but by the quality of the work at all levels.  First I'll show off my curly boy's project.

They were making pop art spirit animals, in the style of Andy Warhol. He chose to do a cougar. I was impressed. I knew he liked drawing and art activities, but I was surprised nonetheless.

Here's Mary checking out some sculptures from an elementary school.

This painting? Totally framable! And done by a 2nd grader. Wow!

I love this cow. I cannot explain to you just how much I love it. It makes me indescribably happy.

A wonderful Islamic tile print. James brought his home and I'm absolutely putting a frame around it. It's red and blue and I have no idea where it will fit into my home, but I don't care. He did a great job on it. Even he thinks he did well. And he would be the first to tell you that art just isn't his thing.

Mary and I both loved this glittery maraca-holding cactus. Seriously. What's not to love?

More sculptures. 

I'm pretty sure if I did an art project involving paint and pasta, it would wind up looking like a 3 year old did it. It wouldn't turn out cool like this one.

One of two sculptural dresses I saw. The other was made out of burned and unburned matchsticks. I wish I had taken a picture of that one. It was very cool.

These 3-D paper sculptures were some of my favorites in the show. 

And how about this paper wig? Awesome!

These last two are self-portraits done by seniors in the AP art class. Maggie tells me they've been working on them for 12 weeks. The works have been in the hallway and so the school has seen them progress since the beginning of the year. They are very big and while I only show two here (my favorite two. The blue-eyed girl? Maggie pointed her out to me at the show and she looks just like her portrait.) there were about 10 others and they were all extraordinary.

This list was on the back of the program. I wanted to share it with you because I think it highlights reasons that art is important.
*Art is a language that all people speak that cuts across racial, cultural, social, educational, and economic barriers and enhances cultural appreciation and awareness.

*Art integrates body, mind, and spirit.

*Art provides opportunities for self-expression, bringing the inner world into the outer world of concrete reality.

*Art is an opportunity to experience processes from beginning to end.

*Art develops both independence and collaboration.

*Art provides immediate feedback and opportunities for reflection.

*Art makes it possible to use personal strengths in meaningful ways and to bridge into understanding sometimes difficult abstractions through these strengths.

*Art merges the learning of process and content.

*Art improves academic achievement--enhancing test scores, attitudes social skills, critical and creative thinking.

*Art exercises and develops higher order thinking skills including analysis, synthesis, evaluation, and "problem-finding."

*Art provides a means for every student to learn.

I'm so impressed with the work that all these students have done. But I'm also impressed by the quality of teaching occurring. You know how people say you get out of something what you put into it? It's obvious the love, care, and level of expertise that our children are receiving given the outcome I witnessed. Well done, students! Well done, teachers!!