The Katzbox

WEEK FIVE: BABYSITTING THE TWINS WHILE WAITING FOR THE TRIPLETS

2011-06-18T19:33:00.000-07:00

Well, this week, the Momma ended up going to the hospital for the remainder of her pregnancy. We're hopeful that she remains there for at least 9 weeks. At that point, all three babies have a very very good shot at a promising beginning at life. Starting this coming week (week 6), I will be taking the twins to the hospital to see their mommy twice a week. I have some insecurities about taking the kids out. And by "out", I mean off of their property. And by "off of their property" I mean out of their backyard. Here's my deal: At the end of day (my "watch"), those kids are supposed to be accounted for, fed, clean, and preferably laughing. So...to schlep two wiggle worms off the reservation and across town, well...I'm willing because everyone is outta their comfort zones right now. If Momma can grow 6 lungs, 3 hearts, and 60 fingers and toes while lying in her bed, well then, I guess that I can take two whole, complete persons, short and rowdy though they may be, to visit with their co-creator.

Highlights of this week:

*When I felt I was being too strict and a "meany of a grandma", I got more loves and hugs from the boy. Way to go Mister..

*Though I never doubted it, the Momma was right, it's not the extra work, it's the combined brain power that is most challenging.

*I had forgotten the sheer decibels involved in raising children.

*I had also forgotten the sheer delight of driving the freeways home at dusk in the humidity, through the downtown where I grew up...and IT grew up...and I feel a connection to the skyline and the buildings and the streetlights.

*I never, ever, ever, get tired of the babies' smiles. Their specific dimples, the way their eyes crinkle when they smile, and those laughs. Puhleese.

Onto week six.

WEEK FOUR: BABYSITTING THE TWINS WHILE WAITING FOR THE TRIPLETS

2011-06-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

Week four has ended. One month. Wow.

This is tough for the kids, but I think it's tougher for their Mom. She has to "mother" from her bed and it cannot be easy to hear the chaos and commotion, as well as the laughter and games, that are going on right outside her door, beyond her reach. The kids go into her room a few times a day, and in the afternoons, she can sometimes come out and sit outside if it's nice or situate herself on the couch, but we must watch and make sure the twins don't jump on her (because they want to) or play too hard around her (because they want to) and other possible risks (because they exist).

I try desperately to stay out of the way between Mom and baby relationships. This is a tricky path. I am not the mommy. I am the caregiver, for sure, but I am not the mommy. I have authority and I give affection (oh boy, can I give affection, just give me a rocking chair and a toddler and it's over) and I am present for their waking hours and do many similar things that their mommy did/does, so I'm certain that it is confusing for them, but it is extremely important that they understand (and I think they do) that Mommy is ultimately THEE Mommy. There are times when the boy will run down the dark hallway and curl up outside Mommy's bedroom door in an act of defiance against me, particularly regarding "potty issues", (go on Dr. Freud, say something!).

Other than that, it's been quite extraordinary. I've been here a month now and I've made interesting observations. I am amazed at the energy that I feel each morning when I awake. The alarm goes off at 6:15 a.m. When I arrive at their house, typically between 7:30 and 7:45 in the morning, the kids are stirring...and it simply doesn't stop from then on. I should be exhausted, and typically I am, but it doesn't hit until I walk into my bedroom at night and get on my bed. And it's not even a "slamming" exhaustion-it's more of a pleasant, job-well-done, type of feeling. It feels pretty good.

The "slamming" exhaustion happens on the weekend. My body just gives up and appears to let my tiredness "catch up" with me. I lay around my mother's house, where I stay on the weekends, and I vegetate. I go to church on Sunday morning and maybe Mom and I will go out on Saturday afternoon, but other than that I work on the computer (while it's on my lap) and just veg. I find that Mom and I share some quiet times together and it's pretty fun. I can make my mother laugh pretty hard and THAT is so much fun, I can't even tell you. Today we made our own clothes detergent and when she smelled the Fels Naptha, it took her back almost 90 years to her own childhood, but that's another post entirely. Glorious.

The high point of this week was Friday morning. It was lightening and thundering. There are two rocking chairs on their front porch and this provided a beautiful view to the lightening show. The thunder was rumbling and even giving loud cracking sounds. I figured this was a perfect opportunity to teach the children how to appreciate these storms and not fear them. We went out on the porch. We felt the rain coming down from the eaves of the porch. I rocked them on my lap. We watched the lightening and listened to the thunder. We figured out that thunder was our friend because it told us, by its loudness, how close the lightening was. They showed no fear. It was delightful. Each of my children grew up learning to love thunder storms. They still do. It's one of my favorite thing about being in Central Ohio. So....I think that was the high point of the week.

That and realizing that something bigger than me is carrying me through this experience. Something divine and wonderful and loving is pushing me and carrying me simultaneously. I know that their Mommy is praying each day for this to happen and those prayers are being answered. I should not have this much energy. On paper, this should not be the case. But life doesn't always happen "on paper". It just happens. I was telling my co-grammy, Abby's mother, who is kind enough to share her glorious apartment with me during the week days, that when I first arrived I thought her big basset hound was in my bed sleeping with me because I felt this big, warm, loving presence next to me at night. She assured me that the dog wasn't anywhere near my room. I wasn't complaining because I REALLY like the dog. Several times now it has felt like a big loving presence is with me. I realize how odd that sounds. I get it. I GET IT. But I'm telling you, I am surrounded by love and uplifted and carried through this experience. God really loves those twins AND their parents...so He's really taking care of the caregiver. The pure love of Christ works mighty miracles.

Mommy prayers....powerful stuff....

WEEKS TWO & THREE: BABYSITTING THE TWINS WHILE WAITING FOR THE TRIPLETS

2011-06-04T13:30:00.000-07:00

At the end of week two, I had a bit of an increase in fatigue. I run out of steam a little earlier in the day than I did the first week. Okay. I can live with that. I lost about five pounds and I can definitely live with that. But the most important things I figured out this week are the following:

If you stand in a rain puddle in the back yard and wiggle your piggies, it cleanses your soul. It’s an amazing piece of knowledge.

Melting popsicles are more flavorful than frozen ones.

Pushing a 2-year-old in a swing strengthens the muscles of one’s character, particularly patience.

Being able to find joy in the slow smile and glazed-eye, dreamy countenance of a 2-year-old who’s slowing being rocked to sleep is a noble and precious gift.

At the end of week three, I experienced a little more fatigue at the end of the day. I ended my week off between quarters of school. It looks like the kids might be taking a growth spurt. It appears that they are “constantly” ready for their naps or bed time, meaning that they are sleepy a lot. They are always wanting to eat something. They don’t always listen, so behavior is chaotic. Or perhaps I’m describing typical 2 year olds. I've learned that the girl appears to be the "alpha", but the boy is ahead in language skills, but she’s ahead in physical skills, but he’s ahead with cuddling, but she’s....and this can go on and on and on and on....bottom line-each child has a unique skill sets and each has a unique ability to pinch my heart and make me laugh-at the same time.

On to Week Four!

WEEK ONE: BABYSITTING THE TWINS WHILE WAITING FOR THE TRIPLETS

2011-05-21T15:39:00.000-07:00

One week with the twinkies, the twins, the ones in the picture above. I'd like to think that I had wrought a magic change upon them...that they're better people...that diapers are a thing of the past, that their mother, who is on bed rest while carrying triplets has miraculously healed and that I, personally, saved the world from utter destruction (unfortunate for those awaiting the Rapture).

Alas, none of those things happened. What DID happen was that I learned how to eat an orange slowly, while staring out a window. I learned how to wake up at 6:15 AM and put one foot in front of the other, which was a theme that was repeated in a game the kids and I made up. I also learned, while trying to get the boy to use the potty, even while playing, that "important things come first". I've applied that to my own life this week and that's what got me through the day...and night. Important things come first.

So...week one...I learned how to...

1. Eat an orange slowly-it's really the ONLY way.
2. Put one foot in front of the other.
3. Important things first.

And so, I need people to stop telling me how wonderful I am for doing this. I need to STOP hearing what a wonderful thing I'm doing. Because truth be told, I'm the one, as usual, who gets the blessings and the lessons. I get the benefits. I'm the one that needs to say "Thank you".

THIS is an opportunity for blessings. Important things first.

PARALLEL CHRISTIAN TANGENTIAL UNIVERSES...SURE, PASS THE BROWNIE RECIPE

2011-05-05T15:15:00.000-07:00

The other night, we watched the movie, "Donny Darko". I was MEANT to watch it. I had 2 people ask me to watch this movie. When we went to Palm Springs last Saturday to visit with Peter Jr., he asked me if I had seen the movie. This was the 3rd reference! I explained that 2 other people had asked me the same thing. He handed me the DVD and said, "Watch this for me because people are asking me to watch it also and I don't have time. You watch it and tell me what you think next time we're together". DONE AND DONE! This is a cult favorite. To watch this movie, you have to suspend your belief in ghosts and time travel. Well...it had me at "suspend your beliefs". Who doesn't suspend their beliefs about ANYTHING when they watch a movie. It's a MOVIE!!! You're not looking into anyone's window. It's a MOVIE. It's theater. Even movies that propose to be based on true events take license with the truth.

Donnie Darko combines these two very interesting concepts. A ghost that travels back in time to give messages to a troubled young man. Questions arise from this, but only about a million. I had the opportunity of watching this with my husband, whom I've described in the past as being a tad "pop-culturally anemic". He talks to relieve his anxiety during movies. He speaks his thoughts even if he'll eventually figure out the answer within a matter of seconds. This can get annoying. When we first started dating, I tried to overlook this behavior because he was so cute. Now, I dig the first joint of my thumb directly into the meat of his thigh. This provides a satisfying grinding sound and effectively redirects his attention to the searing pain in his leg. win/win

Anyway, following the movie, I had several interesting discussions with my son. I even looked up several annotated sites regarding some of the material covered in the movie. Did I mention I'm kind of wonky that way? I once read a book that traced the hemophiliac gene that spontaneously mutated in Queen Victoria's family and spread throughout the royal houses of Europe through her children and grand children because of royal marriages. Yea...wonk resides here.

Back to the movie, there are multiple sites devoted to understanding this movie. There are conversation threads regarding the minutia of everything from the flight numbers of the planes, to the Christianity of the movie, to what color socks Donnie wore (j/k). So, I'm not going to solve any great mysteries with my insight. I just think it's interesting. I can't figure out brownie recipes, I'm certainly not going to figure out Christian tangential universes...but I'll have a heck of a time trying. :)

Okay, off to ponder the great mysteries of the Darko family while I pull weeds and run from lizards.

Be well.

DON'T RATTLE THE RATTLER

2011-02-25T11:01:00.001-08:00

Here's the full story about what happened with the snakes and my date with my 3-yr-old grandson, Clarkie.

In the afternoon, I took a friend to a pet store that specializes in weird amphibious type pets. I don't know what's "pet-like" about bearded lizards or ill-tempered snakes, but it has its appeal to some.

I walked past a glass enclosed "cage" with a black Alabama snake in it. This snake immediately recoiled from me, hissed, and rattled his tail. Obviously he didn't like me. He did not respond this way when my 19-yr-old friend walked past. We experimented. The 19-yr-old stood there....nothing. I stood there, the snake becomes Voldermort.

Glass enclosers create brave observers so I stood my ground with Voldy and began to sway (which is a bad habit of mine, I admit). This must have infuriated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Swayed-In-Front-Of because in the time it takes to think "Wha the", that snake attacked me. He didn't REACH me, but the force with which he hit that glass was hard, fast, and angry, and I jumped backwards and left my body for a few seconds. All I left in place was an expletive, just hanging there in a blue cloud of repentance. That snake had to hurt his nose from the fierceness with which he hit that glass. Yikes.

When I finally centered myself, and my "friend" stopped laughing (bonding episode? I don't think so), he stood in front of Mr. Warmth and what happened? Nothing. Apparently, it's true. Snakes and women have a history that goes way back. I'm assuming he was a little smoother in the Garden.

Anyway, last night I took my 3-yr-old grandson on a Moo Moo/Clarkie date. We went to get some dairy-free-fat-free-taste-free yogurt and I told him about the experience. His huge blue eyes were even more huger and bluer. He hung on every word. So it came to the following dialoge:

ME: So, Clarkie, I'll take you to that store to look at those snakes, ok?

HIM: *without missing a beat* And I won't go, cuz there's snakes, ok?

Clarkie is waaayyyyy smarter than Moo.

ONE DAY...JUST ONE DAY....

2011-02-23T22:31:00.000-08:00

ME: Hi Mom. How's everything.

MOM: Fine! Feeling good. Been gone. Out with card club. Playing Mah Jong, having lunch, you know. I just got back and was napping a bit while watching Ellen. How's everything with you.

ME: Well, I thought I'd give you a ring between moving things between houses before it got too late. My paper is finished so I have a bit more time and then we started this moving business, so I hope I caught you at a good time.

MOM: Well...I know you're busy and all and I'm just happy when you think of me and remember me. We had a good time when you were here. I talk to your picture every morning. I know it's hard to find the time to call an elderly person who isn't right there close to you. So don't worry about me. I find things to do. I have some friends. We entertain ourselves. If something happens I can call them...

ME: I missed one day of calling, Mom.

MOM: Oh! It seemed so much longer!!!!

ME: Yea...I'll call you tomorrow, okay?

MOM: Okay sweetie. Have a good day. I'm going back to Ellen now. Love you, bye!

ME: *searching for therapist on speed dial...*

MY SHITZHU, TINK:PLAYING IS A FULL-TIME JOB

2011-02-19T11:11:00.000-08:00

I have two dogs, both shitzhus, but both entirely different. They barely resemble each other. One is short, squat, quiet, and very very "in the moment". His name is Buddha. He stays next to me all the time. Where I am, he is there also. The other one is small boned, sprightly, light, and her name is Tink, as in "Tinkerbell". I can't believe how inspired these names were. When I took Tink to the vet for her first visit, he twisted her about, unfolded her, peered here and there, held her up to the light (seriously, like a gem stone) and said, "Well [pause for dramatic effect], you're going to be handful". Thanks Doc. Here's $1,000.

The prophetic nature of the vet notwithstanding, she has been "active", shall we say. She immediately called "dibs" on being the alpha. Buddha, as is his nature, became the curmudgeonly-but-benign Wilford Brimley of the house. Tink, on the other hand, developed wings and flies throughout the living room and bedroom. She has mastered bilocation. She insinuates herself into situations she does NOT belong.

The other night the hubs and I were lying in bed exhausted, and he asked, "Are you licking my forehead?" I replied that I was definitely NOT licking any portion of his face. Without either of us moving he said "Tink is here". Our bed is a train ride away from the floor. She had to be RRREEEEAAAALLLLYYYYY motivated to get up there.

Sometimes my 7-year-old neighbor, Saroya, who weighs approximately 8 pounds asks to "walk" Tink around the complex. "Sure" I say....and then I watch as Tink leads her at break neck speed and they fly through the air in a blur-none of their six feet touching the ground.

When we walk together, Tink will spontaneously begin walking on her hind legs. It's disturbing to say the least. Her body hair is cut short, so she has the appearance of a meerkat when she stops and looks around.

But she's all about playing. Her job is to play. PLAY! Constantly and nonstop. You can wake her up at 3 in the morning to PLAY!!!! Here's the deal with Tink. You could tear her hind leg off, beat her over the head with it, throw it over your shoulder, and Tink would play fetch with it....SHE WOULD PLAY FETCH WITH HER OWN LEG!!!!!

I need Tink's attitude.

P.S. She snores like a prison guard

EIGHT PAGES LEFT....KILL ME NOW...OR KILL ME LATER, I UNDERSTAND

2011-02-18T16:44:00.001-08:00

I have about 8 pages left to write on this stupid paper.

8.

It's like I'm constipated in my brain.

8.

It's like I can't hold a thought or something.

8.

I've given birth quicker than I have written these last 8 pages.

8.

I've eaten cheese, cake, crackers, lasagna, Mountain Dew, apple juice, iced herb tea...I can hear myself getting fatter and my IQ points tinkling to the ground.

8.

I decided to get married quicker than it has taken to write this paper. True.

8.

We're two steps further into escrow for our little house on the hill. We'll have a mortage before I have this flippin' paper done.

8.

I've tweeted, status reported on facebook, blogged, and emailed while doing this paper...maybe that has something to do with it....

8.

oh my word, I've come up with 8 statements regarding my not finishing this paper...

8.

cartoon by Richard Krzemien (he gets me....)

Earlene's bring it

2011-02-14T14:34:00.000-08:00

A BOOK THAT FLIES THRU THE AIR...

2011-02-13T21:38:00.001-08:00

Dear Deborah,

Yes, it's true. You most certainly did order a book from Amazon.com. You ordered it and expected it to arrive on your new e-reader, the Kindle. I know you were excited. You felt very much apart of a special family of "new techies" that now read occasionally from hand-held devices. You waited several days for your new "book" to arrive when in reality, it should have arrived at virtually the speed of light, right?

The trick, you see, if that you have to turn your Kindle "on" and by "on" we mean to the "wireless" setting, so that the "air" can magically make your "book" appear inside your new little reader.

Okay? So happy that you figured it out. So....snuggle up next to your little reader and fall asleep in bed. I know, it takes getting used to. Your favorite books would fall softly and painlessly upon your chest or tummy when you could no longer keep your eyes open. They were kind of nice, eh? The Kindle and other e-readers fall forward and clip you on the nose don't they?...in a rather cold and pokey manner. But hey! You can carry a virtual library in your purse and read while standing in line or waiting for prescriptions or any number of circumstances.

Just remember to turn it on next time you purchase a "book". Now...about how to actually "turn the page"....

xoxo, Your Kindle

ROSES ARE RED/VIOLETS ARE BLUE/I'M A SCHIZOPHRENIC/AND SO AM I

2011-02-09T18:37:00.000-08:00

Well...today was interesting....

I had a standard doctor's appointment. I was just going to run down to the desert, drop into my neurologist's office for a quick visit, and then run back to my house. The trip down to the desert takes about an hour and a half over the mountain and is quite scenic. I enjoy the trip immensely. Once I get to the desert, it's always very warm and I forget (even after living there for several years) that it's consistently the same temperature for most of the year and it's difficult to remember the seasons.

Okay, back to the doctor's appointment. As I was going back to the exam room, I asked the secretary, "How's your summer going?" It's February. Middle of winter. Even here. She replied, "I don't remember. Summer was quite a while ago." Dutifully shamed, I hung my head and walked to the room.

She must have said something to the doctor....heck, now maybe I did, I can't remember...but he started asking me weird questions. He pointed to the "thing" on his wrist and asked what it was. I said, "Your watch?". He said, "Good". (Seriously?) He then said, "I noticed that you were reading when I came in. That's very good." He didn't say the book was good (it was an e-reader, so he couldn't see the book)....he just said that the ACT of reading was good.... (okkkaaayyyyyy)

He then said, "I'm going out of the room for a moment, when I come back please be sitting in that chair over there". I failed that one because we've never done that so I thought perhaps I misheard him. He walked in with a folder and some papers in it and looked at me strangely. He repeated it and I jumped to the other chair. Now I'm thinking I failed a little test. Then he pulled up a chair and sat across from me. He said, "I'm going to name three things and I want you to remember them because I"m...." OKAY! ... I said, "I know what's going on here. I know what this is. This is a remembery thingy". No...I didn't say that. But we discussed the test and we realized that my memory, though spotty, is fine. He said that as my stress level lessens, my memory should improve. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH....good one. But he did give me the rest of the "memory" test *cough* and will track it.

Here's the deal. At this point in time, I'm "the absent-minded professor" type of person. That pretty much sums it up. If I remember something, it pushes something else out. It could be the lunch date I made with some one or a grandchild's name. I have two grandsons that begin their names with the letter "C". One is Charlie and one is Clarkie. When my time with them kinda sorta overlaps, they both become Charkie. I'm economical like that. Occasionally, my husband and I will still refer to one of the dogs by our son's name. I'm not taking the fall for that.

I told my 91-year-old mother about what happened today at the doctor's office. She laughed so hard she almost peed herself. After we discussed it, I told her I'd call her again tomorrow. Her parting words, "Sure....if you can remember who I am."

Nice...

VISUALIZATIONS....STRONGER, BETTER, UNCUT.....

2011-02-07T10:24:00.000-08:00

Okay, my last post was about wanting to move. Guess what...yes...we're moving. This post is dedicated to the art of visualizing. I know, I know...people poo poo that stuff, but it has worked for me over and over and over and over. My kids can stop reading now because I'm going to talk about the grapefruit. They've heard this story virtually their entire adult lives and they can recite it verbatim. But I'm going to tell it now so that it will explain how I got my house that we're moving into.

Back in the late 1970's, a friend that my bro and I have adopted as our "other bro" since we were 14 (he is referred to as "Boz") recommended I read a book called, "Illusions, The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah", by Richard Bach. I enjoyed the book. It was way ahead of its time. Anyway, it spoke, loosely, about visualizing things into existence and the message went straight into my heart. I had no religious affiliation at the time and didn't understand the concept of faith so I was a spiritual blank page, so to speak. I wanted to try an experiment using visualization, but I wanted to keep it pure. I didn't want to visualize money, though I was dirt poor at the time. I also didn't want to visualize something that would naturally or routinely appear in my life either through something I would do or someone would buy for me, like a gallon of milk or gas for my car. So, I settled on a grapefruit. I didn't like grapefruit. No one was going to buy one for me because it was the dead of winter in Columbus, Ohio and back in those days, if something was out of season, it was off the shelf, so there was no way in the world it was going to be purchased for me. I was really setting the bar high on this experiment.

So I visualized a grapefruit. I really "saw" that grapefruit. I saw the roundness of its shape. I saw the pores on its skin. I saw its yellowness turn to shades of pink. I really really saw that grapefruit. Less than 3 weeks later, a CRATE of grapefruits were delivered to my door...YES...in the dead of winter no less and delivered TO MY DOOR. How? A friend of my mother-in-law's was wintering in Florida and thought we could use some "Florida sunshine" and he felt compelled to purchase some in the form of grapefruit and and have them shipped to us. I had never spoken to that man personally (never did). I didn't ask for them. I didn't know how to contact him (why would I)? How's that for visualizing something into existence from nothing? I was hooked. And the funny thing is, I find myself with grapefruits all the time now. In fact, in 2001, I moved to Southern California....I can't go anywhere without smelling or seeing grapefruit trees or bags of grapefruits being given away!!!!! Two of my homes here had several grapefruit trees growing in the yards!!! It's been 30 years and grapefruits have only become more prevalent in my life. I still don't eat them.

Which brings me to the previous post. I really felt the need to move. So I visualized a home. I enjoy the 55+ communities here. They're really nice and neat and I need that orderliness to finish this doctorate. Therefore, I visualized some peculiar standards that one doesn't typically find in modular/mobile home communities here. I visualized wood flooring (because of our pets), I visualized plaster walls versus paneling, and I wanted 2 bedrooms with two baths and I wanted the appliances to be there (we have our own washer/dryer). I also wanted it to have a bit of a yard and pretty views. I also wanted it to be dirt cheap. THAT is a LOT to ask for on the surface, but when one considers the vastness of God's creations and depth of one's faith-it's really a drop in the bucket.

Guess what presented itself to me in less than 2 weeks! A home with wood floors, appliances, 2 beds, 2 baths, a 55+ community, an adorable little yard for the dogs, a place to grow hydroponic plants, scenic views, PLUS a two-car garage with a work station and overhead fluorescent lights, as well as a stucco exterior with a long front porch. We are at the top of a huge hill (little mountain). We are not in a floor zone OR a quake zone....tho everywhere in SoCal is technically a quake zone in my opinion-but this really works in terms of homeowners insurance. I got exactly what I wanted AND MORE. Plus the cost is so low, it'll be paid off in one year. Visualization works!!!!!

Now.....my next goal is a check with a specific number on it and a scooter.... :)

DIRTY HOUSE, TIME TO MOVE

2011-01-12T07:01:00.000-08:00

So I returned home and what to my wondering eyes do appear, but 2 miniature dogs and some tiny reindeer...wait. Those aren't reindeer! Those are squeak toys. Destroyed squeak toys. The cushions of the couch have been manipulated and flipped over to keep the "kids" from jumping up there and...what?...what do they do up there? Lay on them? I guess that would be bad because THEY SMELL!!! No baths, no brushing...basically, I've returned to the movie "ANIMAL HOUSE". In the truest sense of the word...nice.

True, there was a huge vase of flowers in the middle of the dining room table. That was cute. The sheets had been laundered the night before...good thing. There was a piece of furniture in the living room that had previously been in the boy's room and that will be going BACK into the boy's room, now that the boy is gone...so that will change the look of the living room. Lots to throw away...lots to put away...lots to wade through...but more than anything, lots to DE-FUNK AND DE-SMELL. What the heck!!!!!

I know exactly how to solve this problem.

We're moving.

Soon.

Word.

Here's my serious look...
And then here's the "real" look I'll be using....

DEAR MR. DAVID HOROWITZ: YOU ROCKED YOUR POINT IN THIS VIDEO, MARRY ME!

2011-01-11T15:13:00.000-08:00

FEELIN' KICKED, ON ROUTE 66

2011-01-08T16:03:00.000-08:00

I am driving the famously historic Route 66 all by myself. So...at the end of my trip, I'll have driven through Illinois, Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas (stayed in Amarillo), New Mexico, Arizona (staying in Flagstaff tonight), and then home to California. Cool! I'm wiping that off the bucket list. It wasn't intentionally ON the bucket list, but it's a cool thing to scratch off. Today I drove a little over 600 miles and feeling fine. If my gluteus minimus hadn't complained, I could have driven more, but such is life.

Also, I listened to an entire book today by James Patterson. By forensic evidence AND by paintings on the tomb wall, combined with cultural traditions, and full body CT scans, he figured out who killed King Tut. Very sad and intriguing story. I think there was a LOT of 'splaining in that after world they all ended up in.

I do NOT like this Motel 6...If I had enough nerve, I would go to my car and get the knife I bought for my hubs and sleep with it under my pillow...ick.

Last thought before I drift off to sleep at 5:30 p.m. While taking xanax, do NOT pluck any remaining eyebrows that you may have left. Just sayin'...

DAY TWO OF JOURNEY: OKLAHOMA

2011-01-07T16:44:00.001-08:00

One my 2nd day of traveling. This is what I've come to realize. States are pretty competitive for bragging rights. Oklahoma was the first state to install a parking meter. Also, it is the home of the largest antique collection in the world. I'm going to submit my dental work. Oklahoma is proud of its famous citizens: Garth Brooks, Will Rogers & Brad Pitt and astronaut Thomas P. Stafford. I don't know how a state can take credit for the random coupling of genetic pooling, but this one did. I think they all do. Also, Oklahoma was the setting for the movie "Twister". When I crossed the border into Texas, and I am NOT making this up, there was an electric sign saying this: KEEP YOUR BUTTS...*wait for second part of sign* IN YOUR CARS. I felt warm and welcomed. I'm in Amarillo now. My butt speedily went from my car to my room. Will map out tomorrow's journey now. I know it will be through New Mexico and most of Arizona. Love to all.

THEY'RE CALLED FRECKLES!!!!!!

2011-01-01T19:34:00.000-08:00

Ages 10-30, they're called "freckles"

Ages 31-50, they're called "age spots"

Ages 50-plus, they're back to being called "freckles" again.

THEY'RE CALLED FRECKLES!!!!!!

*cough*

Thank you.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER

2011-01-01T12:36:00.000-08:00

I've shared this photo with lots of friends, but this is the final spot. It was taken at midnight on New Year's Eve. At about 11:45 pm, my 90 year old mother shouted out from her bedroom, "Hey! At midnight, grab your camera and jump into bed with me so we can hug at midnight." So...being obedient, I grabbed my camera and ran into her room 15 minutes later. She threw her duvet back and I climbed in. We took three great photos but this last one took on a life of its own. The lighting changed on its own and the even spirit of the photograph changed. There is a tenderness that emerged that blew me away.

This is how we brought in 2011. May it ever be so...

TOMORROW? 2010 WILL BE LEFT

2010-12-31T15:20:00.000-08:00

This is the last day of 2010. (You're welcome.) I don't think I've ever arrived at the end of a year and said, "Meh. No big deal". Don't we all get to the end of a year and think, "Whew! Watta year!!!" We SHOULD think that. It's been a year of growth. Time has passed, and that translates to LIFE EXPERIENCE. Am I right or am I right? Who is SHOCKED at the end of the year? Seriously? Stuff happens. People are born. People die. People get betrayed. People get married. Peoples' marriages end. I'm sounding like an Old Testament passage. It doesn't mean we don't grieve or get angry. It doesn't mean we skip merrily along and not process what has happened to us. We're allowed to be angry or cry. We're also allowed to rejoice friendships that are made stronger...we're allowed to rejoice US when we are made stronger. We allowed to recognize that reality is exactly THAT...reality. We breathe through the horrible stuff. We can't change jerks. We can only breathe through their jerkiness and commit to never being a jerk, ourselves. (This is difficult for me...often, even.) We can't bring back a dearly departed. I sat in a funeral yesterday. A friend from high school lost her sweet mother on Christmas day. This same friend lost her brother in October. Rough year. She's breathing. She's putting one foot in front of the other. And she's recognized the love in her life.

I had another friend whose mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I'll never forget her reaction to the news. Many people would say, "Why me? Why? Why?". Her response? "Why not me? The statistics are what they are. Someone's going to get it, why shouldn't I be the one?" The cancer was in her right breast. She went to bed in the hospital that night knowing that in the morning, the surgeon was going to remove her right breast. She composed a poem about it...something else I'll never forget. It was this:

My right is my right. It has always been my right.
My left is my left, and tomorrow? It will be left.

Tomorrow? 2010 will be left.

God love you all. Tomorrow we move on.

PICTURES FROM THE MTC

2010-12-30T18:14:00.000-08:00

Elijah at the Missionary Training Center with his companions and instructors. Below is the Provo Temple. He's happy...and adorable...well, okay...the last picture is a little weird. :)

STOP RUINING YOUR SISTER'S WHOLE LIFE.

2010-12-29T20:35:00.000-08:00

Today I was on the phone with my daughter. She was out with her kids. This is what I overhead while we were talking on the phone.

Daughter to 3 year old son: "Stop 'ruining' your sister's 'whole life'. It makes her sad."

NOTE: His sister is 6 years old.

Such is the life of a busy mother.

AND THE BOY IS OUTTA HERE......

2010-12-29T10:34:00.000-08:00

The boy wrote us from the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. He's preparing to serve a two-year compassionate service mission for our church. He'll be leaving for the midwest in early January. We won't see him, which is good. He'll focus on serving others. He's growing up fast and learning how to be a man. This is an excellent "right-of-passage" that is sorely lacking in today's society. He will not be allowed to self-indulge in his own wants. He won't feel entitled to anything. He'll have to devote his time and talents to the building up of others. Good for him. Bravo, in fact.

And bravo to those who enabled to get to that point. His father worked tirelessly to help him earn his Eagle Scout award in Boy Scouts and to get him ready-the whole time while working six days a week, several hours a day (sometimes up to 14 or more hours a day) to prepare financially. The church doesn't pay for these missions; the missionary and/or the missionary's family is first and foremost responsible. Also, the missionary has to have all of their dental work completed (wisdom teeth out, fillings/root canals done, etc.), all immunities and flu shots performed, etc. Clothing, luggage, all of that has to be done in advance....FOR TWO YEARS!

It's no easy task. I sent two children on a mission previously in my last marriage and it's a huge deal. Their late father and I were totally unprepared for what was involved. Even my daughter got involved, purchasing a camera and cold-weather gear for her step-brother. She was fabulous.
A family in the ward (congregation) gave my husband and the boy a beautiful hotel room to stay in by the missionary training center...there was so much love to his send off....

I guess we'll see him in the early winter of 2012, just in time for the destruction of the earth, according to the Mayan calendar. OOOHhhhh.....do you think the Mayan's knew about this kid?.....mmmmmmm.......

Hugs to the boy....good luck and God's speed....

CHRISTMAS MAGIC AT CVS

2010-12-27T21:45:00.000-08:00

Something wonderful happened about midnight on Christmas Eve. To back up, I just did NOT have the Christmas spirit this season. I was happy for the little kids in the family, because let's face it, their joy is just so fun to watch. But, other than that, I was just really rolling along and trying to remember the actual reason for the season.

So....the morning of the 24th, I prayed that I could somehow just feel the spirit of the season, which is love and compassion and charity. I went through the day not particularly "spiritual". That night, I made sure Mom had dinner and then went over to my youngest son's house to be with him, his sweet wife and the twins. That was fun and all kinds of cute. My oldest son came over so I got some time with him as well. While I was at their house however, Eli and his wife needed batteries and asked me to go through their stockings hanging over the fireplace to see if Abby's mom had put any batteries in their (just by chance). Abby's mom was so cute, she had stuffed stockings for Eli and Abby (the BIG kids) so they would have something to open in the morning. As I looked through their stockings, I was just charmed by what I found in there and I thought, "I want my Mom to experience this". It was a very strong impression so, on my way home that night, I found a CVS drugstore opened at midnight on Christmas Eve and into the parking lot I drove.

I walked through their front doors expecting an empty wasteland and imagine my surprise when the front of the store was PACKED with people. I walked into the front doors, stopped dead in my tracks, I pointed at them and just laughed and then THEY returned the laughter towards me! It was hysterical. It's like we shared some kind of common shame or something. Anyway, it was a pretty festive group that was in there. There was lots of laughter and kindness and camaraderie. We helped each other in the aisle, we moved out of each other's way with smiles on our faces, it was so nice in there!

Anyway, I found a great big stocking for Mom and packed it full of cookies and treats that she loves to eat. I also found some other cool gifts that she would like. There was a tray of rice krispie treats (which she has been asking for). I put the turkey in the night before so she could wake up to that wonderful roasty smell. I got some presents that I had to wrap and I placed everything on the table so she would see it when she got up.

SHE LOVED IT!!!! She had the best time opening her gifts and pulling her things out of the stocking. It was absolutely charming. After brunch at my nieces house (which was stupendous), we came home to a cooked turkey and side dishes that she and I wanted to eat....broccoli casserole, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, green bean casserole, cheeses, it was heaven and heavenly.

It's been 2 days later and she's still talking about it.

Next post, I'll tell you the other-side-of-the-coin on what happened on Christmas day.Yikes!!!

xoxo

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2010...

2010-12-24T12:43:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas to my family and friends. I wish for you the joy that this season intended. I pray that we all have peace in our hearts, which then radiates to the world.

My God bless each of us with increased love for those around us, increased tolerance, increased desire for knowledge, and the ability to know how to use it....

And oh yea, I pray that we always know how to laugh...

APPLE VERSUS NUGGET: APPLE WINS

2010-12-22T15:28:00.000-08:00

Last night, my 90 y.o. mother was sitting across from me at the kitchen table. There was a bowl of apples in the middle of the table. The apples are as large as Buicks. I was on the phone with my youngest son, Eli. I was laying my head down on the table as I was speaking to Eli when I felt a BAM! against the top of my head.

Now...I don't know quite how to explain this but since childhood, if I get beaned on the nugget, I typically come up swinging...or cussing. I can't explain this, nor do I encourage it. It just happens.

So...I'm laying my head on the table, speaking to my very righteous son, and I get beaned. I sat up straight while grabbing my head, look at my Mother who eyes are lit up! I yell, "What the f*, Mom?" Now remember, I have my son on the phone and I'm typically not one who swears. So now, I've dropped the "f" bomb AT my mother and in the ear of my SON! Nice....

My mother was laughing and I don't think I've seen that much gleam in her eyes for quite some time. She said, "I bowled that apple like my bowling bowl and struck you right in the middle of that little, round, blond head of yours. I saw it there and it just begged me to hit it with an apple".

Seriously, Mom? My nugget begged you to bean it?

It's the only time after a beaning that my cuss words were followed by laughter.

Way to go Mom...way to go....

NOT JUST ANOTHER PAGEANT...

2010-12-20T09:34:00.000-08:00

This morning on the Today show, there was a spot on a beauty pageant held in Atlantic City. It wasn't your typical beauty pageant. It's for women over 60. Ladies of elegance. The story was on the Senior Miss America Beauty Pageant. You had to be at least 60 years of age to enter. Some of the ladies were in their 80s. They were all beautiful and wise and had lots to offer anyone who would listen. Some of them were on stage for the first time in their lives. Each state was represented. And no...there was no swimsuit competition. There was, however, a talent competition, singing, dancing, and other things that go with that type of thing. There wasn't a scholarship given or a huge cash prize, but the winner will spend the next year traveling and representing the competition and all women by confidently modeling what can be expected by women of any age.

I loved it.

Men and women don't retire from life. We don't retire from wisdom. We don't retire from interacting with one another. Well.....we do....but at that point, someone typically picks out your headstone...

The message is that we're never too old to take on a new perspective. We're never too old to "know everything we need to know". We're never too old to change gears and take a different path.

I want to be those ladies when I grow up.

I'm shining up the tiara....

ASIAN BUFFET AND FAMILET...

2010-12-18T16:59:00.000-08:00

Today, 15 family members met at a local Asian buffet to celebrate birthdays that occur during the holidays. There are a LOT of holiday birthdays in this Jewish/Mormon/Irish family. Eight, to be exact...eight birthdays between December 12th and January 4th. Granted, twins celebrate on the 12th, but that doesn't matter. Also, my brother and I, who are less than a year apart, celebrate the brief time of the year that we are the same age, which was way more fun when we were kids...

I felt kind of bad for the restaurant. We were rather obnoxious. Four generations of us were there, including in-laws and out-laws. There was laughter, guilt, tears, food, photos, video, more laughter, seconds, thirds, nausea-the whole shebang.

Trouble was, it was Asian, so about an hour after it was over, I missed everybody again...

ZING!

:)

I GIVE UP ON NABLOPOMO SATCHMO GIZMO

2010-12-17T08:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, okay. I failed. I couldn't keep up with the national blogging month zeitgeist thingy.

bleh.

Apparently I couldn't commit. This isn't surprising. I can't commit to choosing out paint colors for walls, so...

I'm stunned I've committed to owning my dogs...and that they're still alive.

I'm preparing for my drive across the country. I thought I was leaving on Monday, but I've hit a hitch in my giddy up. It may be postponed now. Did I mention I'm not overly good at rolling with the punches, but I guess God thinks I need to learn that lesson so....*me rolling*

Speaking of rolling with the punches, I read today about a woman who lost her job. She decided, then and there, to simply do what she loved...and she loved to dance. Now, this wasn't a trained, athletic dancer. She wasn't a trained lithe dancer. She was an overweight, middle-aged woman who lived in the inner city. But she did her passion. Every day, she went to a particular corner in St. Louis, put on her ear phones, and danced her heart out, gleefully. At first, people were wary of her, but soon, they came to expect her. They recognized the joy on her face and how it radiated in her countenance. It was contagious. Not long thereafter, one of the local businesses hired her to dress up in a statue of liberty costume to dance and now....SHE'S GETTING PAID TO DO WHAT SHE LOVES AND WHAT SHE WAS PREVIOUSLY DOING FOR FREE.

Man...I love stories like that.

We have to find our passion....

Much love to all who read this.

Heck, much love to all who don't.

xoxo

NABLOPOMO: 12/06/10

2010-12-06T14:27:00.000-08:00

My world is small...welcome to the minutiae....

Today my new quarter started. I'm studying behavioral nutrition. This should be interesting...and by "interesting" I mean a little painful. But no...really...it should be interesting....I signed up for Dr. Andrew Weil's website, which is very very interesting. Stay tuned...

Tonight, at 8:00, there is, yet ANOTHER, country music award show. What the heck? I'm sick of ALL of the award shows. Over it. Cranky McCrank Crank has spoken. So let it be complained of, so let it be done.

"Skating With the Stars"....there is so much wrong with this....soon, we'll have "Snowboarding With the Stars"; "Shark Hunting With the Stars"; or *shudder* "Child-Rearing With the Stars". Spare us....

Dandy Don Meredith died today. He was a nice man. I met him in Rancho Mirage. I thought he was from Ohio. He was so familiar to me from all of the years of being the "color man" for Monday Night Football, that I thought I knew him! I said, "Hey! We know each other!" He just smiled really wide and said, "Why I HOPE so!" and we carried on and boy, did I feel stupid when I figured out who he was. He was very gracious and we talked for awhile. A wonderful, classy man....a gracious Southern gentleman. Heaven is a little smoother....

Elizabeth Edwards is gravely ill. What a sad story. I'm sorry for her children. I'm sorry for her ending, though she faced it with grace and class. I wish the ending could have been different for her, with more support and love; however, she appeared to live her life with authenticity. I wish her and her family great peace and comfort at this time.

AAARRRGGGHHHHH....thanks...I needed that.

:)

SAVE THE CEREBRAL MATTER FOR THE BIG STUFF...COUGH

2010-12-04T14:29:00.000-08:00

Okay...fine. It's December, it's Christmas, New Years, and Hanuka and you would think I'd have lots to write about, right? Nope. I'm lame. LAME! My life is pretty small right now, so there's not much to write about...

Except for this one nugget of a conversation I had with mother this afternoon. I was heading out to pick up some lunch before grocery shopping. She was giving me her order from Wendy's.

"I want it right off the grill, steamy hot. Tell them it's for your elderly mother so they do it right! [For real? Does that have 'pull' with teenagers in fast food restaurants these days? Do they hear "elderly" and snap to?...straighten their shoulders?...show up on time?...do their homework?...feed the dog?...make their beds?...and tell their moms they love them?....] I want a double, no ketchup, with cheese and mayo. And fries, I want fries."

While she's telling me this, I say, "Hang on, I'm getting a pen to write this down so I get it right".

In pure, sincere amazement, my 90 yr old mother looks at me and says in genuine surprise, "Debbie Ruth, are you telling me with your education, you can't remember that simple order?"

To which I replied, in all seriousness, staring her straight in her eyes, nose to nose, "I'm telling you I don't waste brain cells on stupid stuff. I save my cerebral matter for research statistics". And I waltzed out the door.

I couldn't remember that order past the front door. And now I have to repent. I can think quick on my feet, but I didn't say I could think virtuously.

I'm bad...but quick...but bad....

NABLOPOMO: 12/03/10 KATZBOX

2010-12-03T10:34:00.000-08:00

There is a general authority of our Church that is known for his profound wisdom and insight. His name is Neal A. Maxwell. Here is one of the quotes that I received today via my twitter account:

"Extending our mercy to someone need not wait upon our full understanding of their challenges"

I think it may accurately reflect the zeitgeist of this month. It's a month of compassion and thinking of others...we're supposed to do that all of the time, but this month we're more mindful and focused on it....well, I can't speak for everyone, just for me...

So, I'm going to meditate on that little nugget for awhile.

And this: "nugget" is a funny word and I love it when it's used to describe babies' heads.

"What a cute nugget on that kid!"

NABLOPOMO: 12/02/10 KATZBOX

2010-12-02T12:50:00.000-08:00

NASA discovered a new life form on this planet that does NOT share its building blocks with ANYTHING on this planet. I'll wait while you reread that sentence. *files nails*

It's a bacteria. Here's a quote from the article, "All life on Earth is made of six components: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus and sulfur. Every being, from the smallest amoeba to the largest whale, share the same life stream. Our DNA blocks are all the same." The article can be found at: http://gizmodo.com/5704158/nasa-finds-new-life?skyline=true&s=i

Only this little bacteria has replaced phosphorus with arsenic. Yea.... wicked bugger....

What this implies is that life can exist on another planet that DOESN'T HAVE TO BE LIKE EARTH. Oh really? We're allowing for the possibility that we haven't figured everything out and there may be laws that are higher or different than ours? How big of us! How enlightened....

I don't want to take away from the hugeness of this discovery, I just get tickled that we continue to reinvent the wheel on possibilities.

This doesn't really have much to do with Christmas, except for the fact that Ellen Degeneres' Twelve Days of Christmas is coming on so I have to tune off and covet her audience.

Joy to the world....

Seriously....

except for that little piece of arsenic-driven bacteria....

The little bacteria that could....

Could what?...still waiting to find out....

:)

DECEMBER 1, 2010-NABLPOMO

2010-12-01T08:38:00.001-08:00

Well. December 1st, 2010. The Mayans are giving us 2 more years and about 3 weeks. Thanks Mayans. On December 22, 2012, I'm going to party like it's 1999.

This month is National Blog Posting Month (NaBlPoMo). I don't know who "claimed" it thus, but I like it. Everyday this month, bloggers are encouraged to post something relative to the zeitgeist of the times, and post photos as well. Zeitgeist is defined as "the spirit of the times" or "the spirit of the age".

So...let's see....December 1st: I think it's edgy. The weather is pretty. It's snowy...a pretty, misty, kind of enchanting precipitation. The Christmas decorations are up. I don't really have the spirit yet, but I'm not really expecting it, so the pressure's off. If I don't expect to get it, then I won't be disappointed and I can concentrate on the true meaning of Christmas-the birth of Christ, and not the commercialization. I like the family part, the gathering, the sharing, the laughter, all the stuff you can't really purchase. That's the stuff I celebrate. So...that's building in a fun, expectant manner and I'll cling to that in the face of family members who are ill or otherwise compromised in their "pursuits of happiness"... We grab for the intangibles and the constants: love, God, and the fact that rent is always due on the first and the sun rises in the East...and ladies, no matter how consistent we are, our legs always have the tiniest bit of stubble somewhere....count on those constants to get you thru the season....the things that never change...

And now today? We are hunkered down with warm blankets, good food, good books, good music, and each other, my mom and I. Kinda sorta waiting for the holidays to come at us....or whatever is coming....we're here....waiting...

DECEMBER, CAMPHOR, AND ONLY ONE MOMMA

2010-11-30T15:45:00.000-08:00

THREE THINGS I LEARNED TODAY:

During the month of December, central Ohio only gets 31% of the available sunlight. Also, current prices for homes are going down, almost sharply. I think they want people to move here who otherwise wouldn't because of the lack of sunlight. I don't think it will work. This place is a vampire's dream.

Today I bought "spirit of camphor". It's an "old school" remedy for treating joint pain. I bought it for Mom's knees. I brought it home and showed her the bottle. She said, "I think Mom and Grandma used to use that"...and then something wonderful happened. I opened the bottle and the fragrance wafted up and reached my mother's 90 year old nose. Her face lit up, she got a light in her eyes, and she smiled. I can only imagine the images that raced through her mind. She said, "Oh yea, I remember this...put that stuff on my knees and let's take care of this arthritis the old-fashioned way". And we've chuckled a lot more this afternoon....

I canceled my residency in San Diego which was scheduled to begin at the end of December. I'll pick it up another time in another city. There's always another residency...there's only one momma. So...looks like I'll be spending December here...let's go buy flashlights, candles and more camphor!

DEBORAH KATZ, Real Housewife of YOUR City!

2010-11-29T17:10:00.000-08:00

What would the television show be like if I was on "The Real Housewives of Your City"? I would venture to say that it would be one of the most boring OR funniest shows on the air. For sure, it would NOT be drama. No drama. NO DRAMA ZONE. My mother and I are watching (excuse me, we're "addicted") to The Real Housewives of Atlanta". At first, I was "ewwww, let me just slap someone, puhleese"....but then, I got attached-but only to a couple of them. Most of them are irritating as all get out; whiney, clueless, loud, and that's my mother and I when we're watching them...ZING!

No, I enjoy watching Kim and Kandi. They're a blast. They're authentic in their own way and I enjoy watching them. But if I was being followed 24/7 by lights and cameras, would I wear false eyelashes and 6 inch heels every day? Would I wear tight skirts and render loud opinions on virtually everyone around me? Mmmmm....yikes...

Let me tell you what you could COUNT on. The first time I run into someone with 16 items in that express lane that says "15 items or less"?...yea...there would be some serious drama there...

Stay tuned....

TIME TRAVELERS...PLEASE APPLY

2010-11-27T18:07:00.001-08:00

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Ohmygoshohmygosh." That was my reaction to a friend's response to an honest-to-goodness ad on Craigslist for some paranormal, time-traveling researchers. I'm deadly serious. Here's the ad ---> Craigslist ad for Paranormal Time Traveller recruitment!!!

If you go there, you will find the ad and in addition to THAT, the professionals in charge of the whole sh'bang have included a questionnaire. Again, I'm deadly serious. I'm not dissing anyone. I'm as woo woo as they come. Believe me. I'll never run for public office! The reason I have had so much fun with this is because my friend, who shall remain nameless, is one of the funniest people on the planet. He is bright and Oscar-Wilde-witty and so...I read his responses to the questions. I laughed so hard, I almost peed. Okay. I peed a little. Sue me. In fact, I'm still smiling. So....I'm going to cut and paste his responses...edited. If you want the full questionnaire, you'll have to go to the link. These answers are NOT for the weak-kneed or non-tolerant. I will edit the language, but you'll kinda sorta know what he's saying. I just hope you get a smile or two. I know I did. So...here it is:

If you would like to be considered for participating Paranormal Experiment #1 as a volunteer and be on film for free, please answer questions that are applicable to you below and submit to info@paranormalresearch.com, Subject: Paranormal Experiment.

Bring your instruments, crystals, tools, sounds, cards, charms, methodology for time travel so people can learn and it be documented on film.

Filming Times are from 11am to 3:30pm, November 14, 2010, Heritage Marina Hotel, 2550 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94109
########
Questions:

1.) What is the strangest Paranormal / Supernatural experience you have encountered?
I once encountered a random fart cloud in the midst of a Waffle House which was positively ghoulish. Total demon spawn! AIIIEEE! It burnses mine eyes, forsooth! (Seriously though, I could taste it.)

2.) In all of your years, have you run across a variety of Time travelers. What are they like?

In all of my years I have run across a variety of Time Travelers and they were all incapable of using proper punctuation to formulate a question. I suspect that time travel affects the language portion of the brain to such an extent that one's interrogative statements become declarative. Also, they all had a slight speech impediment, a penchant for S&M and a strange obsession with glow sticks.

4.) What do you think about about M-theory, dark energy and dimensions?

Tasty in milk.

5.) Can mathmatics and science explain everything?

Just the real things.

7.) What is Magick?

An intentional mispelling of the word Magic used to convey the douchiness of the speller.

9.) What is do you think the connection is between Science, Magick and Religion? Or are there such connection(s)?

I think that Science was dating Magick once and it got pretty serious, although they didn't go all the way because Science was all "That's not rational." And they dated for a while, but then Religion was all, "Nuh-uh, bitch, Magick is mine" and then it was all "I turn blood to wine, motherf**ker, so suck on that, but not literally, because that's vampirism." And then Science was all, "You fool, ain't no such thing as a vampire." And Magick was all, "I use my plus four sword of Zanthdarmakalafussinklambdo to slay you both because my dad was a vampire and you don't even know."

10.) Why do you think people have premonitions?

Because a postmonition is just a remembery.

12.) When did you realize you had a special gift and how did you, and others react to it?

I realized I had a special gift at the age of 17, and my boyfriend at the time reacted accordingly. Because I am awesome...and cruel.

14.) Do you have a day job? If so, what is it?

I am a geologist, which is like time traveling in a big way.

15.) Other than the paranormal what are your interests?

I like this shirt I'm wearing; it makes my eyes look shazaam, and that is interesting to me. Maybe if I went back in time I would have sex with me. I look really, really good in this shirt. I mean really, really good. Maybe I'll leave a note for future me to come back here and do present me. That would be hot enough to video tape.

Dear future me,
Remember to come back to today and get it on with me. Also, buy a video camera, because this is going to be hot!
Love,
JPL Now-style

17.) What was the last thing that made you laugh hysterically?

That is a hyperbole. You should look up the definition of hysteria.

19.) Ever appear in a documentary of television/film before? If so, what was it?

I was geologist #2 in the film "Full Metal Whack-it." Okay, I wasn't.

22.) What do you love?

coffee, rain, yo daddy.

24.) Any odd traits or not so secret quirks?

Yes. Will you be asking me about my secret ones later, because if I reveal them I will have to kill you.

27.) Where do you see your life taking you in the next 5 years?

Approximately five years into the future, if my time travel remains constant.

28.) What is your favorite phrase or term?

Schadenfreude...the germans have a word for everything horrible!

31.) Are you married/dating/single? (elaborate based on response)

single. I don't know how to elaborate on that. I don't like people, so why would I date one?

32.) What is your living situation?

Alive...currently.

33.) What do you think of the President?

He has very nice dimples. I bet his stomach is really flat.

34.) Do you identify with a political party/social movement/cause or set of ideals? If so, what and why? And for how long?

Ideally I like an occasional cheeseburger. Cheeseburgers are awesome. Because they are cheese and burgers. I have pretty much believed this forever. (Once while time traveling I met the guy who invented the cheeseburger, he believed in Magick, so I smacked him soundly and then we made out for like an hour.)

MY JOINTS TALK AND THEY'RE NOT REALLY FRIENDLY. MY JOINTS WOULD NEVER GET HIRED FOR THEIR CUSTOMER SERVICE SKILLS...

2010-11-26T12:22:00.000-08:00

I ate so much yesterday, that my joints are full. They're screaming at me. How can that be? It's almost creepy. If my hips and knees could speak they would say, "Hey lard-butt! We have to carry you. Take a step back from the dressing and the 3rd helping of dessert. Seriously? The first two servings weren't enough? You didn't get the ESSENCE of the chocolate silk pie the FIRST TWO TIMES? Trust us. It's good. It's chocolate. It's deadly. Back the heck up and turn around."

My joints aren't really friendly and they certainly lack in customer service. My joints work for Sprint.

Ouch.

TEXTING, DRIVING, AND FORGIVENESS-IT'S A MIRACLE

2010-11-24T06:29:00.000-08:00

One year ago my youngest daughter survived a hideous car accident. She is a walking miracle. She was in a turn lane waiting to turn left and a young man in a car behind her was reaching for his phone, going 70 mph, and hit her from behind. She had to be removed from her car with the jaws of life. She fractured bones in her neck, her rib, and had dozens of staples in her pretty blond hair.

As it turns out, much to the surprise of all, she was pregnant at the time. She and her husband didn't know this. No one knew this! So she couldn't take pain medication. Because of her great faith, she has made a full recovery. Her baby is gorgeous. It's tough not to love a chubby, laughing red-headed newborn.

But perhaps the greatest miracle of all is the fact that this woman spends so much time being grateful for her blessings, she has no time for anger or resentment. The young man had no insurance and no money. He never even apologized. She doesn't care. She has no ill will. I think that's why she is so healthy today. Nothing in her body stores guile or bitterness.

All gratitude. All love. All forgiveness. No "woe is me"...ever.

THE BIGGEST LOSER...WOW...

2010-11-23T17:52:00.001-08:00

I've never watched The Bigger Loser before this season. I am weeping.

Hurray for human endeavor and heart.

Hurray for "us".

Let's give Thanks.

EVERY KISS BEGINS WITH VICK'S

2010-11-21T09:42:00.000-08:00

I'll briefly explain what happened last night, and then we will never speak of it again.

My 90-yr-old mother went to bed. She hasn't been feeling well. I'm guessing it's because she's 90 FREAKING YEARS OLD....but I digress....

I was working on a paper in the dining room, just outside her room. Her bedroom was dark and therefore I assumed she was sleeping. She went to bed with Vick's Vaporub on her chest. Remember that stuff? Mmmmmm......

Anyway, she called out, "Debbie? Could you come in here?"

I went into the dark room and asked her what I could do for her. She said, in her little meek, sleepy voice, "Could you kiss me right here *pointing to her temple*"?

I thought, "Sure, she must think she has a temperature". I leaned down to plant my mouth full onto her sweet little temple and virtually pasted my lips into a puddle of Vick's. I pulled back, but it was too late, I was smeared with the stuff.

My mother let out the most wicked laugh I've heard come out of her in a long long time. It was PLANNED!!!! She did it purposefully and with malicious forethought. BRAVO!!!

I spit and fumed and snitted. I said, "What the heck!!!!" My eyes commenced burning and once you try to wipe that stuff off, it just goes postal on your face, so for the rest of the evening and even when I washed my face this morning, it was the "gift that kept on giving"....

Nice. Well done, Mom.

Man...I will miss her when she's gone....

THERE ARE NO BED PANS IN HEAVEN

2010-11-20T14:17:00.000-08:00

I'm half way done with my paper. I'm learning all kinds of things that I didn't sign up to care to know, but they're interesting nonetheless. The above table is difficult to see. The top is from 1950, the middle from 1990 and the bottom projected to 2030. It represents population. The dark blue represents "developed countries". The light blue represents "developING countries". On the right represents females and on the left represents males. This is what is proverbially called, "the writing on the wall". That scurrying sound you hear are some running back to place their heads back in the sand...or other places where there is no sunshine.

My focus of interest via psychoneuroimmunology, is the "care of caregivers", particularly caregivers of dementia patients. They have a unique set of circumstances that predispose them to certain stress-related illnesses, secondary to their exposure to the chronic stress that comes with being a caregiver for SUCH A LONG TIME. The average time a caregiver takes care of a dementia patient is 4.6 yrs (caregiver.org). It is not unusual for instance, for a wife to be the full time caregiver of her elderly husband who has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease (AD). She ends up having to dress him, feed him, bathe him, etc. She spends all of their money on him. Eventually, she develops a stress-related, immunocompromised disease, such as breast cancer and dies before him. I'm talking about a "developed country" kind of scenario.

And now, due to prolonged lifespans and decreased fertility, we have fewer people behind us to care for the older generation. The infrastructure is not prepared to house or feed or care for those who will be diagnosed with AD or other dementias, which, by the way, increase several fold every 5 years after the age of 65. By the year 2050, there will be over 60 million caregivers needed to help with the demand.

Sooo....I don't have any answers. I've looked at the zero-population theories. We really really need our "emergency back up generation". Not just to hold the bed pan, but to, you know, keep doing our procreating thing. I imagine that we'll get creative and come up with group homes for elders and other alternatives. We'll figure it out. It'll go back to family. They'll be a pandemic or something. Wow....I just jumped out of a Hallmark card, eh? I'm going to do you a favor and go right back to my paper. And then I promise to be more pleasant tomorrow. But for the record...

I don't think Heaven has borders. I'm guessing there's one language. And I KNOW there are no bed pans.

THE GOOD NEWS IS, IT'S PNEUMONIA!

2010-11-18T15:33:00.000-08:00

Pneumonia. Not pulmonary embolism. But, once again, it took a last minute, call-from-the-governor, last peek at the CT scan brought the drama down to "just" pneumonia, not the pulmonary embolism that I was all hooked up for and counseled to be treated for. Apparently, a diagnosis of pulmonary embolism is swift and severe. I realize this. My son has had four. The difference between my son and I would be that I would LISTEN to what the doctors tell me and adjust my life accordingly. I can say this because that particular son never reads my blog. neener neener.

So, I have a pneumonia that doesn't make me cough. It's strange and irritating. I am basically lugging around a lung that is heavy, wet, nonproductive, andpainful. I have compared it to carrying a backpack on the INSIDE. Ewwwww.

I'm also fatigued as all get-out. Cranky. Impatient. Slammed at school because I'm also expected to write a 25 page paper.

Also, my mother, with whom I'm staying, has pneumonia. She's lucky though, because she gets to cough...incessantly....productively....constantly.....

No fun.

Bright spots: The Royal Wedding! The kindness of people. Those weirded out housewives of Atlanta. What the heck is WRONG with them?

ROCKETTES, AND PROPHETS AND MONTY PYTHON, OH MY!

2010-11-14T11:05:00.000-08:00

I just returned from attending church with my son and his two children. His wife, my daughter-in-law, on this particular Sunday, was directing the children in song for the entire program of Sacrament (after we all partook of the Sacrament). So, she had to sit up front and they asked if I wouldn't mind sitting with Eli and "the twinkies", a name their other grandma came up with and I love, Livvy and Charlie (almost 2), and helping out. I couldn't get there quick enough, are you kidding me?

I met my son, Eli, in the parking lot and we walked in together. I discovered this: Eli and I should never sit together at church. We really shouldn't. He's a clone of his late father, especially in the humor department, and we are atrociously irreverent. We can't make eye contact and we giggle way too much. We spent a lot of time bent over adjusting the kids' socks (that didn't need adjusted), or picking up the carpet (which didn't need picked up)---get the picture?

Things were being managed between the two of us pretty well until two things happened. The first was this particular song that the primary kids sing. It's a nice enough song with a good message but it's all done in minor notes, which are kinda creepy. It's called "Follow the Prophets". Well, when it's done in all minor notes and it sung rather slowly (like it was today) it sounds, well, just creepy. We heard the first couple of notes on the piano and Eli and I looked sideways at each other and then downward and then away from each other but we could help it. When the chorus came we both did a Monty Python kind of movement where we hit ourselves in the forehead with a hymn book and of course, we cracked ourselves up....because we're so freakin' witty....NOT.

And then, I was doing the "walking fingers" to entertain the kids, which it does. I would walk my fingers along the pew and then quickly JUMP to their necks or ears and they would scrunch up and squee and then want me to do it again. This works for about 10 minutes, but we had an arsenal of tools to keep them entertained so they wouldn't miss mommy so bad and would make it through the meeting without disrupting the people around them. Eli began to emulate my finger puppets until I got the bright idea of finger Rockettes and I began to do the "bounce-knee-bounce-kick" that the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes do and are so famous for. Eli wasn't prepared for this and he almost busted a gut. This required much time for him to compose himself. While this was irreverent, I considered it a big SCORE!!!!!

I then considered that the kids were way better behaved than Daddy and MooMoo. I may have a lot of 'splainin to do in my prayers tonight....

I hope God has a sense of humor...actually, I'm counting on it.....

PUT DOWN THAT REMOTE, I NEED RESOLUTION!!!!

2010-11-13T15:55:00.001-08:00

I don't have a comfort level with letting my mother work the remote control. Of course, this is HER house, HER television, and therefore HER call. But it is a study in frustration. I lose a few more IQ points every time I sit there and watch....

For example, after the OSU/Penn state game, I didn't get up quick enough and sure enough, the magic began. She reached for the remote control and something in my brain told me to "quick stupid, get up and go clean the toilet, save yourself!!!" But did I listen...nope...just sat there all vulnerable and stupid like a woman with 50 dollar bills hanging out of her pockets while walking down a dark alley.

Here's what she does. She goes to one channel, listens just long enough to get you interested, then switches to another channel....this one is a news channel...she listens just long enough to get you interested on how the cops actually caught the kidnapper and THEN?...yes....she turns off THAT channel and goes to another one...this one is a comedy show....they're setting you up for a joke and they get you to a punchline and....NO....she turns off right before they deliver it....and now we're at the beginning of a cop show...someone is walking around a house....you know this because the camera is the perspective of the perp....the victim is on the inside....tension mounts....a car pulls up just as the perp is making his breathy move and BAM, the channel is changed.

I have more gray hair now than when the television was turned on this afternoon. I need resolution. I NEED TO WATCH ONE ENTIRE SHOW FROM BEGINNING TO END!

My Mom is a remote-tease!

GOD WILL NOT LET ME BE COOL...

2010-11-12T14:14:00.000-08:00

This afternoon, I accompanied my mother to the imaging center for a much needed x-ray of some hardware in her right upper leg. It's been several years since it was evaluated and needed to be looked at. Since she was in some pain, it was no easy task to get her there. She has a nice walker (she calls it her cadillac) but it's a little cumbersome to get her in the car, fold the cadillac up and put it in the car, and then redo the whole thing to get her out of the car, and then actually GET her to the correct office in the office building, yada yada yada.

So, after finally getting her to the correct office, down the correct hall,, this very young, new, immature, this-far-from-being-a-fetus imaging tech says to me, "I'll have to have my supervisor take a look at this order from her physician that was faxed over to see if we can perform this x-ray. It's not very clear."

I said, "What's the confusion? I'll be happy to clarify what the need is. She just needs her femoral hardware imaged." It's not that tough. I worked in radiology for years, and this is a no-brainer. (I didn't tell her that because I wanted to preserve her ego, but I KNEW there was no problem with the faxed order.)

So...she made my elderly mother, in obvious distress, wait while she took her un-experienced, immature, insecure butt to her supervisor who, of course, okay'd it. She wheeled mother to the exam room, got the films, and when she returned her, she said to Mom, "Sorry about the wait" to which I replied, "did you hear that Mom? She just called you fat". Then...as I smugly walked out, God smirked...and had me walk through a cobweb...and nothing says "uncool" like walking through a cobweb...

OLD AGE...BRING IT!

2010-11-11T16:45:00.000-08:00

This afternoon, I took my 90 yr old mother, Wendy, and her brother, 86 yr-old brother Billy Jay, to lunch. I've discussed being out with these two before. They both have a hearing deficit and neither one of them will wear a hearing aide. This makes dining out with them challenging, to say the least. But I digress....

Obviously, when you've been siblings for that many decades, you kinda sorta know each other. We sat down in the restaurant, ordered our drinks, and after they arrived, my sweet uncle calmly unwrapped the paper from around the top of his straw, placed it in his mouth, and blew the paper off of the straw and directly into his sister's forehead. Yea. Not to be outdone, his 90 yr-old sister unwrapped her straw in a "Game-on!!!" type of fashion and blew HER straw paper at HIM, which, incidentally, flew past my face and into the aisle...landing about a boat ride and two plane trips away from its intended target.

The remainder of the lunch involved bickering about medical advice, advice about spouses, advice about cooking, etc. On the way home, as is typical, we drove through an old historic cemetery in the south side of Columbus, Ohio.

I can hear your envy....

DEATH BY PINKIES-I GET IT GOD

2010-11-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

So....this morning I was in a hurry. People were coming over, I had to get dressed, wash up...you know. I scrubbed my teeth, brushed my hair, and ran the water to get it warm so I could wash my face. I'm a pretty basic girl when I'm in a hurry. Soap and water do the trick for me, followed by a slap of moisturizer. So...the water got warm, I worked up a lather with the soap, and commenced to slather my face with the bubbles. I did the basic "up and down" movement with my open palms going over my face...picked up speed...and then it happened.

As my hands were traveling up my face, from my chin to my forehead, apparently the super slippery, careless nature of my speedy washing allowed for each of my pinky fingers to slide, rapidly and rather violently, up each nostril until they couldn't really go any further and came to a violent stop somewhere at my septum. Tears sprang to my immediate blood-shot eyes. I rinsed off the remaining soap and blotted my face dry. My nose was screaming at me, though I was relatively certain it was pretty clean, what with the soapy suds and all. I could have killed myself by my own pinkies. It was ugly. What the heck?
This is payback from the church pew thing. I know it. I heard you God. Loud and clear.

CHEAP, FAST AND EASY...GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER

2010-11-09T17:18:00.001-08:00

Tonight, I ate some bites of a cheese-filled crust pizza. The other night I had some chicken sandwich from...I don't know...maybe, Burger King. Over the last several weeks, I have noticed that I have partaken of several fast-food type meals. I love Arby's roast beast sandwiches, I love fish sandwiches, I love hamburgers, I love fries and chicken nuggets. I love my extra-large pop that is half diet/half regular pop with no ice.

I love food that is cheap, easy, and fast.

I am the Charlie Sheen of fast food.

WHO'S THE NUTBAR UNDER THE CHURCH PEW?

2010-11-07T21:25:00.001-08:00

Today, I did something quite unacceptable in church. I was visiting a building in Ohio that I don't normally attend. I live in California. I was sitting in the very back row. There is a space between the very back row and the next row up. This very back row is used for...I don't know...people who come in late, anti-social types, people with little kids who may have to leave and don't want to disturb others...me...whatever.

To my right sat an old acquaintance (I used to live in Ohio). He sat there with his teenage son. They were very well-behaved and reverent. In front of me, in the row waaaayyyy ahead of me (remember...there is that space I mentioned) was a friend that my daughter grew up with and her 3 year old son. On the other side of the 3 year old boy sat another old friend, Laurie. So....what did I do?....

I cannot resist the urge to play with a little child. Call me childish and immature , okay, don't call me names please, but whatever I am, I am always "game on" with a toddler. So...the kid was playing peek-a-boo with me and I clicked on! I was hiding behind the cape I was wearing, I would sneak out all quick and he would smile. BINGO! Then...I would sneak across the space and lean over the pew, and quickly peek over the top of it, BINGO!, he would giggle. Finally, I got so involved with this game, I actually dove UNDER THE PEW on my back, wiggled forward (my legs were now sticking out from under the into the said space between the very back pew and this particular pew I was now position UNDER, and appeared BINGO right next to his wee tee tiny Crock shoes! He was stunned....as was his mother. I just laughed...and then I realized where I was. I was laying on my back....under a church pew....with my legs sticking out into open territory...*gasp*

I now had the hideous realization that I had to maneuver my body out from under the pew, inching my way forward until I got back into the space so that I could CRAWL BACK to where I was sitting originally on the pew in the very back row. As I did this, as I crawled back into my original position on the pew in the very back row, I realized that my old acquaintance and his teen aged son were seated there-no doubt watching everything with open-mouthed shock.

In an effort to somehow regain some small fraction of dignity, I sat up straight and wrapped my long shawl/cloak around me....realizing how very odd I must have appeared in my zealous efforts to over compensate for my foibles. I went from crawling under and out from a pew to sitting bolt upright with a tightly wrapped cape around me. What a nut job.

I left soon thereafter.

I may leave Ohio sooner than I thought.

Lebron James "Rise" Commercial & Cleveland's Response

2010-11-05T19:47:00.000-07:00

UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS BY PORTIA DE ROSSI: UNBEARABLE HONESTY....

2010-11-04T08:23:00.000-07:00

This is the cover of Portia De Rossi's new book, "Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain". I will be purchasing this today or tomorrow. I respect anyone who has journeyed into the abyss of disordered eating and come out-not only intact, but whole and, perhaps even healthier. Bravo. No easy task.

I have been all over the spectrum on these things. I have been in a size 24 and I have been wee tee tiny-too tiny...medically too tiny-if there is such a thing. The daunting task about eating disorders, from my perspective, and I know whereof I speak, is that they appear to be a lifetime commitment. I have to treat my eating disorder, which, frankly, is restrictive anorexia, like sobriety. When I see pictures of incredibly thin people, it is like liquor to an alcoholic. I have to learn to be rational about it and keep it within a boundary.
(above-me coming back)

What I'm saying is this: This book of Ms. De Rossi's, is reported to be beautiful and honest and authentic, and it also might be "thinspiration" (images that promote anorexia) to a lot of anorexics who are struggling. A lot of females (and some males) are going to buy this book and fall off the wagon because they're not strong enough. It's not Ms. De Rossi's fault. Thinspiration is all around, but this book is already intoxicating and yes!...I haven't even read it yet, but the cover is killing me and I've listened to the talk shows and all I'm hearing is "I got down to 82 lbs". That's enough for some of us. That's enough...

I guess the purpose of this post/rant is, if anyone out there is struggling, I'm planning on reading her book but more importantly her final chapter over and over and over and over. Because she would not have written that book without some redemption and healing. I know there are probably pictures of her thinness. I know she will talk about the restrictiveness. I know that those are components that are attractive to anorexics and people that are NOT disordered eaters will never understand. But her healing is also in there. And we have to read that. We HAVE to read that...over and over and over and over and over.

And then we have to eat a big greasy hamburger...with someone who loves us...even if it's only ourselves.

:)

DEBBIE THE PSYCHIC...IT'S ABOUT OHIO...

2010-11-02T20:36:00.000-07:00

Here...let me tell the future for you. I'll be "Debbie the psychic". Ready? Here it is.

"Ohio will be pivotal in the 2012 elections"

There!

Voila!

You're welcome!

It usually is, but now?...fageddaboutit. Republican governor, senator, the whole she'bang.

Iowa, please stay home. Ohio elects presidents.

So buckle your belts. You Buckeyes only THINK the elections are over...think again...the "fun" is only beginning....

DO YOU USE YOUR ANCESTORS TO GET JOBS?

2010-11-01T18:34:00.001-07:00

There is a candidate running for congress here in Central Ohio that opens one of her ads with the declaration that her ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War and WWII. Somehow, these are admirable attributes for her character and we should consider them when we go into the voting booth...or, when citizens of this community go into their voting booths.

I looked at my mother, who will be going into her voting booth, and I said to her, "You know, we have an ancestor, General Eby, that fought in the Revolutionary War. And your grandfather, William Snyder, fought for the Union in the Civil War. You, personally, built bombers for the war effort during WWII. We have some real stinkers in the family. I don't personally think our ancestors' past history has any bearing whatsoever on our own personal ability to make decisions or get a job."

Mom was quiet for a second and said, "Who were we related to in the Revolutionary War"?

Exactly.

INDIANA JONES HAS NOTHING TO FEAR, UNLESS HE MEETS ME IN A DARK GARAGE

2010-10-30T23:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, tonight I did a boneheaded move. Actually, I did four boneheaded moves.

I had to go to my niece's house, enter in the secret code that opens her garage door, go into her house, let her dog out, then go out. The problem? I didn't know how to reclose her garage door and I couldn't walk out the front door because I couldn't lock the door after me without the key. Big problem because they're out of town. Now, the last time I had to do that, my stepson, Elijah, was with me. The way we solved it then was as follows: I left the garage and watched in awe as Elijah hit the button to close the garage door from INSIDE THE GARAGE, then RUN and take his graceful, svelte body and roll out under the descending garage door before it hit the ground. He did it like a dance move. It was a beautiful thing. He didn't even pause to check for bruises afterwards, he simply hopped up and got into the car. He was simply stunning to watch. I have never forgotten it and I don't think I ever will. Truly, it was breath-taking. He's just one of those people who has beautiful control of his body. It's irritating. The only thing I can rejoice about is that I can steal his jeans and wear them. SCORE!

Anyway, I had a real problem tonight, but since Elijah did this magnificent Indiana Jones move, I thought, "Hey, I still have some moves in this old body, I think I could do the same thing and really, I have no other choice".

So, I put my purse outside of the garage door on the driveway (because I didn't want to be hampered), said goodbye to Max (the dog), took a couple of big breaths and shook out my limbs, hit the garage door button on the wall, and then ran as fast as I could toward the garage door, bending down at the last minute, and kind of rolling/squatting under the door. Huh-uh. Didn't work. That door bounced up and not only did it NOT close, the light flickered on and off several times in an effort to alert the neighbors, who for some reason were ALL OUT doing things in their garages and lawns at that time. So...back to the drawing board.

I went back into the garage to figure out what I did wrong. I checked for bruises and couldn't find any. I reshook out my legs and arms and cracked my neck. I hit the button, ran to the garage, DROPPED to my knees, and rolled out. No. The door bounced back up and yea...the lights flickered again.

Now, the guy across the street that was mowing his back lawn has stopped and is looking at the garage. The guy next to HIS house is holding his door open with his groceries still in his hands and staring in my direction. I pick up my purse and place it in my car like I meant to roll out of the garage. I then proceed back to the garage for another try. I know I can do this.

On the way back to the button, I have a slight limp. No problem. The adrenaline should take care of that. Deep breaths. Hit the button. Limp limp limp drop roll. LAME!!! Lights flicker. I didn't even make it all the way out. You could hear the door stifling a laugh.

I kind of crawled back to the button. I waited until everyone went back to their business and stopped watching. This took awhile. Plus, I needed the time to staunch the bleeding. I hit the button, leaped off the steps, attempted a "slide into home base" type of move...flicker flicker flicker.

I stomped/limped to my car and called my sister. Thankfully she answered even though she was at a huge party. I asked her if there was any way she could come over and lock the front door of her daughter's house because I had to leave. I told her what I had done, or attempted to do. When she stopped laughing, she asked me one question... "Can you do it one more time?" and then she gave me the code to close the door.....

The bruises can be covered by clothing...the shame?...that may take longer....

I NEED TIPS ON HOW TO TREAT INSOMNIA-AND NO, IT'S NOT "READ THIS BLOG"

2010-10-30T22:39:00.000-07:00

It's 1:39 in the morning on a Sunday and I am physically exhausted but my eyes won't close. I don't know how or why this happens, but it's aggravating and I don't know what to do about it. I don't drink milk, or I would warm some because that is supposed to be very effective. I could take some xanax, but by the end of this post, I won't make much sense and then I won't remember it tomorrow and when I read my blog and find something that I don't remember posting, that's a rather disturbing event. It's happened before. I get nocturnal amnesia and it's troubling. Can you imagine? I have to really watch myself. I have to make sure car keys are put away in a manner that would require a lot of effort to get to them. I have to stay rational.

I have awoken to find food in my bed and no memory on how it got there. One morning I woke up and found a pan full of grits-untouched. I asked Peter how it got there and he said, "That would be your doing, my dear". I had no memory of actually making grits, but there was the evidence that I did. So...I proceed with caution when it comes to sleep aids. On the up side, how nice/out-of-touch is Peter? Never a word.... Of course, then he promptly forgets because he has raging ADHD and can't remember squat. So...win/win, eh?

So...here I sit, playing on my computer, listening to mother cough, and waiting for sleep to overtake me. I should just force myself to lay in bed and go to sleep....because forcing oneself to sleep is always effective. Sure.

What are some good ideas for insomnia? The people that read my blog are the smartest people I know (for real) and I know there are things I am missing...little help?....please?

What are some tips on getting to sleep?

Please and thank you.

*deep bow*

*deep wide awake bow*

*deep wide awake and while-I'm-down-here-I'll-play-with-my-shoe-laces bow*

:D

HALLOWEEN CAUTION, 2010.....

2010-10-28T12:03:00.000-07:00

HERE'S THE DEAL WITH IRISH BUTTER-AND WELCOME TO THE KATZBOX!

2010-10-27T21:07:00.000-07:00

If you Google "Irish butter", I think this blog is the 7th reference on the page. That's kind of big. I get more international hits for my, "What's Irish Butter Got That American Butter Ain't"? entry than any other entry. Second place is any entry with the name "Christian Bale" in it. For real. I get hits every single day from countries all over the globe looking for, I guess, clarification on what exactly constitutes Irish butter.

If you go to "http://www.answerbag.com/q_view/1962097", you will find information on what makes butter Irish. This information is supplied by Kerrygold Dairies. Here's what you'll find:

Butterfat

Like several European-style butters, Irish butter has a higher butterfat content than used in American butter. As a result, Irish butter melts more easily and at lower temperatures for cooking.

Texture

Irish butter has a smoother, creamier texture than American butter. It tends to be less waxy than its American counterpart.

Cooking

Because of its high butterfat content, Irish butter takes only 15 minutes to come to room temperature and easily burns when used for frying foods. Blended into pie crusts and pastries it produces a flakier product and is particularly well-suited for flavorful whole grain home-baked breads.

Taste

Irish butter has a richer, almost cheesy, character. It tends to be saltier and less bland than American butters.

Color

Irish butter is a startling golden sunshine yellow color, far more yellow than the whitish butters found in North American varieties.

PICS OF A YOUNG ELI....AND A LITTLE BIT LIKE CHRISTIAN SLATER.

2010-10-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

Just thought I would post some pics we found of my son, Eli, from high school. These were taken by a photographer for an agency here in town. Actually, as I recall, the photographer was actually from Colorado and was passing thru town, but he did work for the modeling agency that wanted Eli. So...here they are. Cutie patootie.

I still think he looks a little like Christian Slater in these pictures and he can make a face that looks like him STILL...all these decades later...j/k....not decades....just a few minutes. :)

BRAIN/BODY/LOVE CONNECTION....

2010-10-26T11:44:00.000-07:00

A friend posted a link to this article on facebook. It's the results of a study (a "meta-analysis", which means the data from many many research studies) which, when boiled down, indicated that, "falling in love can elicit not only the same euphoric feeling as using cocaine, but also affects intellectual areas of the brain. Researchers also found falling in love only takes about a fifth of a second" (Sciencedaily, 2010). It's what's called a top-down, and bottom-up process, which means the brain activates the heart and gut and the gut and heart can affect the brain. Falling in love feels a lot like doing cocaine...and it happens quickly. Good luck with those teenagers. But that's the fun stuff, the romantic stuff, the lets-go-to-Vegas-stuff.

But the research didn't stop there. It found deeper, more meaningful data. Different areas of the brain fall in different kinds of love (thank goodness). The article said, "For example, unconditional love, such as that between a mother and a child, is sparked by the common and different brain areas, including the middle of the brain. Passionate love is sparked by the reward part of the brain, and also associative cognitive brain areas that have higher-order cognitive functions, such as body image" (Sciencedaily, 2010).

So...it appears that love is in the lab.

We're screwed people.

Love is powerful. It makes us take bullets for people. It's makes us look at ugly babies and think,
"Good Heavens, this is one perfect human specimen", except in my family, they really are. :)

Love makes us wipe the drool off of our baby's teething chin, as well as our aging parents' shirt.

It compels us to leave divorce court and buy new make-up (after a time...or is that just me?)

Love takes us back to the cemetery and lay flowers at the stone while rubbing our fingers over the top of it to remember the texture...

Different parts of the brain? Perhaps. Same emotion? Feels like it. Screwed? Probably. Blessed? Most Definitely.

Reference:
Syracuse University (2010, October 25). Falling in love only takes about a fifth of a second, research reveals. ScienceDaily. Retrieved October 26, 2010, from http://www.sciencedaily.com /releases/2010/10/101022184957.htm

LIVVY, SINGING IN THE RAIN...OKAY, IT WAS THE SHOWER, BUT YOU GET THE PICTURE(S).

2010-10-24T20:24:00.000-07:00

Except for the little face peeking out of the corner of the photo in the 3rd pic down, this is my grand daughter Livvy. The little face peeking out of the corner of the photo in the 3rd pic down is her twin bro, Charlie. Since Charlie is the HUGE face that is now decorating my blog, I thought Livvy should have equal time...at least somewhat.

I spent the night at their house on Saturday and spent Sunday morning with them. Oh, the joy! So, I thought I would share a few pics of the angel faces I got to spend time with. That's all.

They're fun and funny. Again, that's all.

:)

OLD COMER SCHOOL-SIX GENERATIONS OF GRATITUDE.

2010-10-22T15:18:00.000-07:00

Above are the little desks that my mother sat in when she was a very little girl. We visited her one-room school house that was erected in 1850. Her parents and grandparents attended the same school house.

Above is the old coal stove that kept the school warm. I can't even imagine how cold those winters were and how chilly that room got. I would have lobbied for a seat next to that stove.

I love the above shot. It's the natural light filling the doorway at the back of the room. When I think of the generations of family that attended that little school, I'm reminded of where I came from and how far we've come. I think about my children and grand children attending warm, dry, excellent schools and now, we even have college graduates in the family. Eli's degree from THEE Ohio State University is a far cry from these humble beginnings.
And here's 90-year-old Mom with me and three of my four children, as well as FIVE of my grandchildren. That's four generations on the porch of that little one roomed school house. I wish we could see Grandma and my great grand parents standing behind us. Well, metaphorically they were there. We were standing on their shoulders, held up, supported, and pushed heavenward. Here's a delayed "Thank You". And a hug. Until we meet again.

LIVVY IN THE VAN-THE HUMAN PUNCTUATION MARK!

2010-10-21T06:27:00.000-07:00

SURPRISE ON THE LUGGAGE RACK!

2010-10-19T07:57:00.000-07:00

This poor guy. We saw him on the 55 in Orange County heading to Laguna Beach. His little VW Bug had a suitcase on the luggage rack on top and it had been blown open and was empty. EMPTY! I couldn't stop myself from snapping a couple of pics as we blew past him. I can only imagine his expression when he stopped....yowsa....

DOES THIS REALLY NEED AN EXPLANATION?

2010-10-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

BECAUSE DEATH ISN'T CREEPY ENOUGH...

2010-10-17T09:11:00.000-07:00

This is the grave of Calamity Jane. She's buried next to Wild Bill Hickok. Her dying words were reputedly, "Bury me next to Wild Bill", and therefore she was. She was said to adore him. I snapped this picture of the monument over her grave site. People leave crosses and rocks at the memorial. What I can't understand is this face that is engraved on all four sides of the headstone, which is quite large. It looks a little like the drama mask symbols, and she WAS an entertainer with Wild Bill's shows in South Dakota, but it's only the "smiley" mask, not the grimacing mask...so I'm a little bit at a loss....there is a definite creep factor here....

Wild Bill's original grave marker was removed. It was made of wood and people kept plucking away at it, so it was replaced with this metally coppery one.
It's sad that "Custer was lonely without him", but I feel that Custer was otherwise occupied in the days to come.

So there you have it. These two people worked together in life. Calamity loved her Bill and was finally united with him in death. I have a soft spot in my heart for Calamity Jane because that is our grandmother's nickname. She was...well...a skosh ahead of the curve for her day and age. She was a corn-cob-pipe-smokin'-votin'-prayin'-bingo-playin'-throw-your-head-back-till-your-belly-shakes-from-laughin'-GRAND-mother. So, paying tribute to THIS Calamity was kind of like paying tribute to OUR Calamity.

Here's to all the Calamity Janes in spirit. Rest in joy.

SANDWICHED IN LOVE...NO QUESTION ON WHY I TRAVEL TO OHIO...

2010-10-16T11:55:00.000-07:00

Here's how my morning started. I woke up in my mother's bed, next to my mother, with her trembly fingers stroking my back. My daughter, who is also visiting from California and staying with my mother, was standing next to my side of the bed and she was rubbing the top of my head. They were each speaking about how much they loved me. Sandwiched in love. I wish this for everyone.

When I get down or weary or anything-less-than-satisfied-with-life, I will consider this morning and know that I am loved...and that I am no different than most people, who simply haven't had it as dramatically demonstrated. I just had the pleasure of seeing it and being aware of it.

Ain't life grand?

RED DENTAL TABLETS, FLOSSING, SPIT

2010-10-05T19:56:00.000-07:00

My friend was talking about the dentist on her post the other day. It set me to thinking about the times I've been to the dentist. I just can't stand it...I get sweaty and anxious-not unusual, a lot of people respond like that to dental appointments. Things are better than they used to be.

But what irritates me is this, "Do you floss"? What? Are you serious? Who doesn't floss? I floss everyday. Sometimes I floss several times a day. The situation is, I don't produce a lot of plaque. This is a good thing. It's good for my heart and it's good for my teeth and gums. I just don't make plaque. Or at least, I haven't yet...maybe aging changes that. So far, so good.

I remember as a youngster, they used to give us those red tablets to chew in school. The tablets would leave a stain where plaque build-up would be. We would all be standing in line for the teachers to look into our open and smiling mouths to check our teeth. Inevitably, the teacher checking mine would call another teacher over and I would get this questions, "Deborah, did you eat the red tablet like you were supposed to"? Even after answering yes (I was very obedient, they already knew that, they were moronic back then) they would make me chew ANOTHER one while they watched, rinse my mouth out, while they watched, but then I got the satisfaction of watching their faces as they studied my teeth and say, "Hmphf. Looks like they're clean" or "Well, she looks fine, send her back to class"...or words to that effect.

So, anyway, next time a dentist or her/her assistant asks me if I floss, I'm going to respond thusly, "Well, I know the answer to that question, so why don't you tell me what your training and experience are telling you"? Cause I'm just that much of a rebel....and I'm paying for that visit....and I don't have to chew those red tablets anymore...

SPIT!

DEAR MEN, WOMEN HAVE CURVES. DEAL WITH THE CURVES, OR DATE EACH OTHER.

2010-10-03T11:43:00.000-07:00

Celebrities love to tout diet tips to an adoring public. They're eager to give the world nutrition tips on how they stay skinny and "cleansed" and feeling free. Demi was doing the maple syrup/lemon juice/cayenne pepper thingy for awhile. I worked with a girl who did that. Yuck. She was miserable. We watched what she did, and we smelled what she drank, and that was enough for us. Demi tweets it to millions of people (without the benefit of the smelly part, thank goodness) and who know how much damage she caused.

Gwyneth Paltrow is a super cleansing fanatic-after a time spent being on a macrobiotic diet. She now suffers from osteopenia, which is the precursor to osteoporosis.

I love being in my fifth decade. I love having life experience. It's not that I get to sit in some magnificent comfy throne and throw out advice (tho a comfy throne sounds magnificent). It's that it affords perspective. I've been really really large and I've been really really thin. I think I've hit a nice medium right now. I think the culture is maybe coming around a bit.

I think "real" women are taking back their bodies and saying to men, "These are our terms; we are women, we have curves, deal with them or date each other." They have to deal with our womanly curves. That's it. DEAL! I'm not drinking maple syrup and cayenne pepper for anyone. I'm not eating a 9-grain cracker and calling that dinner for any soul on this planet. WOMEN = CURVES. Deal!!!

MORMON BATTALION TRAIL AND AN ALLIGATOR-LIZARD

2010-09-30T21:55:00.000-07:00

This afternoon Elijah, Braden and I walked along part of the trail that the Mormon Battalion walked. We were looking for branches of Pacific Oak because Braden has taken to teaching me how to whittle "magic wands". Yes. You read that correctly. Today we whittled manzanita wands and now we're going to work on making wands out of Pacific Oak. The manzanita wood is fun because it's beautifully colored and it's also called the Phoenix plant because of its ability to destroy itself in order to resurrect itself from its own debris. Impressive. The Pacific Oak along the Mormon Battalion trail is very very old and therefore, the wands would be fun because of their history. Yea...Braden and I are some kind of odd little soul mates.

As Braden worked on a branch, I found what at first I thought was a wee tee tiny snake. I called Elijah over and he said it was a lizard. He caught it (because he has no fear) and Braden (who is, apparently, an expert on EVERYTHING) said it was an "alligator lizard". He has had several. So, we all trudged back to the car along the trail, under the incredible clouds, and the lightening, next to the dry river bed, and I thought, "Wow, I'm in a lyric from an old 'America' song from the 70s"! Whodda thunk it?

So...here's the alligator lizard-approximately 6 days old.

IT'S ALL ABOUT TASTE

2010-09-30T09:28:00.000-07:00

HUBS: How come the dogs always hang out by you?

ME: *shrug*

HUBS: No, really. I walk them and feed them and hold them, but they always go right back to where ever you are. Look. They're there next to you right now.

ME: Good taste?

HUBS: I'm being serious. Every day, they're THERE! They just love you.

ME: No really. Taste. They like the way I taste. They lick my ankles a lot.

PEW POLL. HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW ABOUT RELIGION

2010-09-28T11:42:00.000-07:00

A Pew Poll released its recent results on a survey of how much Americans know about religion. To quote, "...atheists, agnostics, Jews and Mormons outperformed Protestants and Roman Catholics in answering questions about major religions, while many respondents could not correctly give the most basic tenets of their own faiths."

Later on in the article, it states that Mormons scored highest in knowledge about Christianity. I'm not shocked about this. What I was shocked over was that people didn't know about their own faiths. I suppose I'm a little taken back because I'm used to people who are rather well versed about who they worship and how. I must run with a spiritual crew, even if we worship at different altars.

I went to the site and took the quiz. There were some tricky questions. For instance, I did NOT know (between two names of the three listed) who was associated with "The Great Awakening". I knew it wasn't Billy Graham, but I chose incorrectly. The results page of the quiz breaks it down by religion/education/gender/overall population/worship attendance/etc. It's actually quite interesting. I suggest you go to the link below, read the article, then take the quiz. It's only 15 questions. Or you can just go directly to the quiz:

http://features.pewforum.org/quiz/us-religious-knowledge/intro.php

Either way, I'm relatively certain you'll be intrigued by what you learn. And....I'M SO PLEASED MY FAMILY WAS REPRESENTED TWICE....Jews and Mormons....I'll get to heaven if I have to die trying....wait.....

http://www.mormontimes.com/article/17435/Poll-Mormons-Jews-atheists-agnostics-know-more-about-religion?s_cid=queue_title&utm_source=queue_title

DEAR ETHAN'S MOM-ALL IS WELL

2010-09-26T12:56:00.001-07:00

Today I visited a different ward. I know a couple of people that go there, but I didn't see them and they didn't know I was there. I followed a mother and her several young children through the parking lot and to the door. I figured they would know where to go, right? She let her children run ahead of her in the parking lot, which was busy with cars pulling in and pulling out. This is, and always has been, a sore spot with me. When all of my kids were little, everyone had a hand on them. No one was NOT connected to another-especially my crew. The boys were a little tangential (to be polite), so I had to always make sure we were touching one another so no one would dart out and get hurt. This mother's voice was so loud as she screamed to her kids, "CARS. WATCH OUT. LOOK WHERE YOU'RE RUNNING!" I had to keep my head down to keep from losing it because I couldn't watch.

As I entered the lobby, a small boy (one of HERS, it turns out) held the door for me and several other people. I was the last person into the lobby so I thanked him quietly and patted his shoulder. Apparently his mother (the really really loud mother) didn't see me thank him so from way across the lobby (remember, she doesn't travel with the rest of her clan, she mothers from a distance) she says very loudly (because she's quite practiced at it), "THANK YOU ETHAN!"

I was mortified. It implied that I didn't thank him. There were about 4 adults in the lobby at that moment and every one of them turned to look at her, then Ethan, then me. I saw it all. There was one particular man, about 6'4", older, who looked at me, but without judgment. He just witnessed everything. He may have known the woman and was aware of it, and if he attended that church regularly, he would have known that I was a stranger to everyone. But, I was still simply mortified. I couldn't go into that sacrament meeting like that. So I took off down the hallway looking for Ethan's mom.

The church is laid out in a circle type of configuration. I went most of the way around the circle before giving up. I even checked a restroom. Nothing. I finally went into the back of the chapel to get ready for taking the Sacrament and I heard her voice. I turned around and there was Ethan's mom. I left my purse and walked back to where she was sitting. I noticed she was alone, except for her kids. I sat down and said, "I heard you thank Ethan for holding the door for several of us in the lobby. It's important to me for you to know that I also thanked him and patted his shoulder when he held the door for me." Her countenance never changed. She said, "Yes, I'm teaching him the importance of doing that."

I realized then that she is just simply focused on surviving and maintaining whatever parenting skills she possesses, and that's fine. That's exactly what she's supposed to do. This isn't about my ego or feelings. She's dragging her kids to church, alone, (this week anyway, I don't know her circumstances). I've sat in the back of the chapel, alone, with four little kids, probably not dressed as nice as their peers, probably with an attitude a time or two. I was just doing the best I could and I'm certain I didn't do things like the other mothers. I didn't know the hymns. I didn't know how to do FHE's-I had to make them up. I didn't feel like I fit in anywhere, because I probably didn't. But I had my kids in sacrament. And they grew into nice adults who love their children. Five of my grndchildren are born in the covenant. Two of my children served missions. Not because of anything I did, but because they were in church, surrounded by good people who were good models for them.

So...I love you Ethan's mom. All is well. You rock. Just hold on to your kids in the parking lot.

TWEETS OF LATE...

2010-09-24T23:19:00.000-07:00

Eddie Fisher...gone...just like that! Well, it took over 80 years and lots of booze and cigarettes, but still...GONE!, just like that....

The unframed photo of my son on my table is turned at an angle. It looks 3D, like he's standing on my table and he's 5" high. Unless.....

Dear Chuhuahua mix that runs unleased-Stay away from my shitzhu. Just because you're all BA and free, don't think you can date my dog.''

#2 Sure, you're the "bad boy" dog-wrong side of the tracks. You don't bag your poo, you don't live by rules. I've seen you eat birds. STAY!

#3 But my girl is innocent. My shitzhu is used to a better, nicer boy. Think of her future. And quit peeing on my steps, what the heck!

#4 And Chihuahua, it would never work with U & Shitzhu. U couldn't provide 4 her. You're BA in the yard, she's a bitch 24/7. Save yourself.

My dog just tried to eat a light bulb. It was all that remained of the last good idea she had.

I decorated my balcony-tried to make it look "homey" with a lantern, dried flowers & straw hat-turns out it just looks really flammable.

Dear book-in-my-car. Please levitate urself up here 2 the apt. I'm tired. Do U hear me? Now! ok-NOW!-NOW...whatev-don't feel like it N E way

Okay mourning-dove, we get it, you're sad & annoyingly loud & consistent. Try nesting close to therapy-dove & see if that helps.

Yes, mourning-dove. Again with the relentless cooing. I'm certain there's a nest of support doves in that tree across the park...way across

Mourning-dove, while its true you have suffered loss, U seem to now define urself as a victim. Stop, or I'll get all Rush Limbaughy on you.

(on my rapidly advancing hearing loss) My ears are not going quietly into that good night. If they had hands, they would grab onto sound waves and leaving scratch marks.

Dear "Hunger Games Trilogy", Thanks for making me keenly aware of food in my pantry and the fact that I'll never kill anyone on television.

And one of my favorite retweets from a girl I follow....

JoyPlaza

i just found the sad remains of a houseplant i could've sworn i threw out years ago. but sure, i'd love to watch your kids.

THIS IS FOR FAMILY WHO NEVER SEE DINO-YOU GET THE PICTURE THE FIRST 30 SECONDS...

2010-09-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY-DIDN'T YO MOMMA SAY SHARE!

2010-09-21T19:07:00.000-07:00

I was listening to a lecture by Steven Johnson on TED. He has a new book out called, "Where Good Ideas Come From". He showed a photograph of the first coffee house (circa 1650) in England. It opened at the beginning of "The Age of Enlightenment", a time when great ideas spewed forth. He gave a great explanation for the timing of the coffee house and the age of enlightenment. Up until the time of the coffee house, the water wasn't potable. The only beverages available for drinking were alcoholic. Wine in the morning, beer with meals, gin and more wine in the evening. When coffee (and tea) was brewed and made drinkable, this coffee house opened and people gathered there in a huge, chaotic mass. And guess what? They weren't smashed!!!

Coherent, creative and brilliant ideas flowed with the non-alcoholic drinks! Mr. Johnson claimed little wonder at the exchange of ideas on architecture, politics, religion and so on, by bright, sober minds at what history has come to call the age of enlightenment.

He discussed something else interesting. He talked about the launch of Sputnik way back in the day. The Russians had done it! They had placed a satellite in orbit. Meanwhile, back at the Applied Physics Laboratory of Johns Hopkins University located in Laurel, Maryland, a bunch of cute (I'm certain) geeks were sitting around discussing the geekiness of it all and loving it. A couple of them, while sitting in the cafeteria (probably not too different from that chaotic, idea-passing coffee house in 1650 London) wondered if they could hear the satellite. Obviously it was making a noise...they wondered if they could find it. So, they asked their coworkers and they said they hadn't thought of doing it, but it sounded interesting so lets try it! So, Geyer and Weisenbach (that were their names) go to Weisenbach's office to play around with his stuff. Weisenbach is a "microwave" specialist...so they "microwaved" their way through the atmosphere in search of a sound. They found the bleeps and started to record their time stamps...I suppose that's what you would do..whatever that is....you would do it.

Now they're wondering if they can track the location of that satellite based on its beeps and time stamps. So, they went to their offices, Geyer and Weisenbach, and by using the Doppler effect relative to their own location, they could discern its trajectory and figure out its orbit and location at any given time. Sure enough, they did. Not long after that, they were called in by their boss. He said he had heard that they were playing around with the beeps of Sputnik and could locate a moving location in space from their fixed location at the APL in Maryland. They said, "sure" and he asked them if they could "reverse" it? Could they locate a fixed location on the ground from the satellite? So they went back to their offices and sure enough, they could do that. In fact, it was even easier to find something on the ground from a satellite than it was to find the satellite from the ground!

That was good, said their boss, because he had just built an entire fleet of nuclear submarines and it was difficult to put a missile in downtown Moscow when you didn't know where your sub was. And THAT, is how GPS was born.

"The same GPS that your cell phone may have used to find the nearest coffee shop", Mr. Johnson said...it goes round and round and round.

The point being, intellectual property is typically "protected" and hidden, when in fact, it needs to be shared and built upon, so that we all benefit. Mr. Johnson ended his talk with this quote, "Chance favors the connected mind".

http://www.ted.com/talks/steven_johnson_where_good_ideas_come_from.html?utm_source=newsletter_weekly_2010-09-21&utm_campaign=newsletter_weekly&utm_medium=email.

WE GOT US A 10-37, POSSIBLE GANG OF ELDERLY MORMON CAR THIEVES. MAKE THAT A 10-96, MENTAL SUBJECT...AND THAT'S THE COP.

2010-09-20T23:10:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, as I was driving along the 15 South, I noticed two cop cars sitting on the side of the road (my side). They appeared to be talking to each other while in their cars. That's just how it appeared. It was a "big" shoulder. So, I was in the far right lane but...just kept driving because, why wouldn't I, right?

As I passed them, in a matter of about 2 seconds, one of the cruisers pulls out and begins to travel behind me. I thought, "okay"....because I'm a child of the 70s and that stuff still gets under my feathers....

I thought, "no current tickets, my tags aren't expired and while the actual little sticker is missing, it's a matter of record that I paid for it and I'm registered so no harm, no foul...but still...what's the problem...?"

And then he starts maneuvering like he's "hiding" or acting covert. I'm all, "?", but I kept driving without changing my speed...or lane....still in the right hand lane....

He speeds up (OVERTLY), then gets behind a white pick-up truck in the lane to my left and behind me...like-really close behind pick up guy-then swerves to the lane behind me, then swerves back behind the white pick up. It was ridiculous. I thought, "maybe he's a new recruit and he's practicing his 'skillz' or something"...for real, I actually considered that.

This kept up for several miles. By this time, I was sweaty. The poor white pick up guy swerved over and exited...leaving me and Super Trooper on this now lonely stretch of 56 West because yes, he exited with me from the 15 and followed me toward the 5 South to LaJolla. What the freak? How far does his jurisdiction go? What kind of profile do I match? My car is a 5 year old SUV. I'm a little old blond lady with nerdy glasses...for real?....is there a gang of elderly Mormon car thieves hitting up San Diego County?

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your perspective), there was fender bender on the east bound lane so he finally exited and got on the over pass to see what good he could do there.

My guess? Super slow Saturday......

DESIGN CHALLENGE-COULDN'T SPEND ONE DIME!

2010-09-18T20:34:00.001-07:00

Above is my bedroom. There are still some rough places, but I'm almost finished. My design "challenge" was to redecorate without buying anything and not spending a dime. I figured that out after I did it. Yea, don't go down that rabbit hole. You'll need a time machine and a psychiatrist. Basically, our room was a storage facility with floor to ceiling boxes. Hideous boxes. The worst part was, the boxes weren't even mine, they were the hubs. And now they're gone. Well, they're in another bedroom, but not the one where I spend most of my time in. Yay! Also, I discovered that I'm a skosh Bohemian.
Above is the shelf I designed. Actually, it's a piece of very old wood from an antique armoire that Peter disassembled. It's way over 100 years old and the individual pieces are quite lovely, but it's a behemoth and not for our room. Anyway, I took this piece of wood, found some lovely old books of mine from about 20 years ago and made a shelf out of it for my attached bathroom. I loved the extra space it gave me and I thought it was creative problem solving. Ouch! Cramp in my upper arm from patting myself on the back...
Other angle to see the detail of the old wood....
Then I used those hooks that you put over doors for towels and robes and I placed my necklaces and bracelets on it. It's right by my closet in my "getting ready" space, so it works perfectly.
Close up detail. Plus I like shiny things. The bracelets are on the top hooks and the necklaces are along the bottom hooks.
Here's the "working" corner of the room. How nice that I left the Dew on the "table" I made out of stored water containers. That's an old quilt covering them, but they made a nice table for my Mac and printer. The "seat" is actually the foot rest for my papasan chair in the living room. The table is an old table we've had for awhile. The white clothes underneath were made by hand by a physician I used to work for. There's lots of hand stitching. The silk scarves on top are pure silk from China and were gifts from my daughter, Emmy, about 5 years ago. The baskets next to it are old baskets I've had for years.
Details of the table top. Everything in here is definitely for function, but I did cave on this. It's purely sentimental. The candles are romantic, that's my momma, the record is something my dad wrote and recorded for the love of his life, (my momma), and it may be difficult to see, but my wee tee tiny white cast iron pig with wings is on the table. This little inspiration tells me that I WILL get my doctorate...I WILL!!!!
The record....
My dresser/night stand. I also got this from the physician I worked with (that made the tablecloths). She is a pathologist. The top of this is all broken china dishes. Beautiful.
Detail of top of dresser.
This is my favorite picture of all...detail of the lamp with the pale blue silk scarf over it. It's also cast iron-ish with crystal droplets hanging off the shade. I giggle when I look at this room. No one bothered me. I got to do whatever I wanted. No influence. No nuttin. All me. Only took a little over 5 decades....

:)

LOYAL VS DEAD

2010-09-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

They look dead. They're not. They're just sleeping. Ever sleeping. At my feet. Always and forever...where ever I am, there they are. So I thought I would snap a pic of the two of them, Tink and Boo, right there next to my chair. Loyal, not dead.

ONE BATHROOM VS MULTIPLE BATHS/FAMILY UNITY OR SPACE?

2010-09-15T08:42:00.001-07:00

I woke up, because basically it's something I do every morning, and I thought about my morning regimen. I typically don't leave my room until the bed is made and I'm showered, dressed, and have make-up on. Yes, there is a bath in this master bedroom I inhabit. I feel I am psychologically ready for the day if I walk into the rest of my house "prepared" like that. I virtually never leave my bedroom in my pajamas or with bedhead. Not because I'm vain, but it messes with my own space/time continuum of energy and focus.

This reminded me of when I was growing up in our little suburb of Columbus, Ohio. No one had more than one bathroom. Even though all the houses had three bedrooms, not one family in the neighborhhood had more than one bath. It was located at the end of the hall. We all had to share. Even my parents used that bathroom. I remember seeing my father's shaving paraphernalia in the medicine chest (I believe that's what it was called in our day). I remember seeing my mother's "cold cream" (and I still don't understand why it was called that). I remember how it smelled (flowery) and that it was pale pink and pretty. I remember my sister's Bonnie Bell products were in there for her adolescent skin. The only thing my brother and I had were toothbrushes. That was all we needed. Mom kept our Flintstone vitamins in the kitchen cupboard along with the aspirin. I still do this, as do my daughters....

That said, because there was only one bathroom, this forced us to leave our rooms and congregate in the dining room or living room in various conditions of dress. We still have pictures somewhere of my bro and I in full pajama-wear on the day after Christmas. He was witnessing me receiving a birthday present-which that year was bigger than usual. We had hideous bed-head and my brother had his typical bed-face-swollen eyes, etc. He was 11. I was now 12 and a year older than him. That was the best gift, we were no longer the same age. We're less than a year apart so during a portion of December, he was annoying as all get out.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is as architecture and housing design became more modernized, we compartmentalized our families. I have noticed that my daughter and her husband's master bedroom is a place where the kids shower and play on their bed-so I think that normalizes things there. But otherwise, it's easy to create borders. On the other hand, maybe kids needs their own space for those things. Maybe they like decorating their own bathroom, having just their "stuff" there.

I don't have an answer, I'm just comparing time and culture to now...because I'm old and have more life experience so I get to do that stuff....I'm just thinking of my own medicine cabinet and wish I could see my dad's razor and my mom's Ponds and some Bonnie Bell...

Or maybe I'm just killing time before I get out of this bed and start the day.....

THEIR SUPER POWERS=PSYCHOSES IN THE REAL WORLD

2010-09-14T08:15:00.000-07:00

There's a new show coming out this fall about a regular, normal-type family that takes a vacation to a rain forest, experiences turbulence on their flight, and returns with super powers. Thus they return to their home as super heroes. One of the characters, I believe it is the adolescent daughter, has the new ability to hear peoples' thoughts. She's psychic. She goes to her mother with this information and her mother explains what being "psychic"means. She can now hear what everyone around her is thinking. I considered this. What if, on any given day, I heard voices and assumed they were coming from the people around me? What would I do? I COULD go to my mother, but it would end up a rather idiotic post because my mother loves me dearly and she would say, "Really? Come to mah jong with me and tell me what everyone is thinking then let's go to lunch and talk about it". Mom would totally use it for its fullest entertainment value. I, on the other hand....not so much.

If I seriously thought I could hear disembodied voices coming from peoples' heads, I would speak with a physician and a psychologist. I would want an MRI, and x-ray, and a CT scan. I wouldn't think I was psychic, I would think I had an acoustic tumor or a brain tumor (if I was lucky), or (if I was unlucky) I was experiencing a psychotic break.

I guess that's the difference between real world and Hollyworld. I would get a bill from a doctor, and they would get a cape.

Nice.

THIS MAY NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.....

2010-09-13T13:31:00.000-07:00

PHONE RINGING

ME: Hello?

CLARKIE *3 yr old grandson*: Is soda good for me?

ME: * I know Mommy is there because I can hear her translating the question...I need context sometimes) Ummmm.....no. No it's not.

CLARKIE: Ohhhhhhh *in a crying kind of way*

ME: Clarkie, soda isn't good. But! If you drink juice and water, you can be smart like Daddy and kind like Mommy.

PAUSE............

CLARKIE: Mommy, can I have some apple juice?

SCORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IS YOUR NOSTALGIA "REDEMPTIVE" OR "MISCELLANEOUS"?

2010-09-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

Does anyone ever dream or think about "the good old days?" Nostalgia is alive and well. In a recent study at the University of Southampton in England, 79% of the 172 subjects surveyed admitted to having nostalgic thoughts at least once a week and 16% reported experiencing nostalgia once a day! There is a growing body of research on the subject that is looking at the benefits of nostalgia. The HEALTHFUL benefits...what other kind of benefits are there? According to the July/August issue of Scientific American Mind magazine, the term "nostalgia" is derived "from the Greek words nostos ("return") and algos ("pain"), so that nostalgia means, literally, the suffering that results from a desire for return-to a place, to a time, to a way of life." It also was once referred to as "immigrant psychosis"...nice, but in hindsight understandable.

Finally, in 1979, sociologist Fred Davis discerned that words such as "warm", "old times", and "childhood" were being associated with nostalgia. A survey in 2006 yielded results that demonstrated that nostalgia is a "specific form of autobiographic memory; most people give themselves the starring role in nostalgic flashbacks. These glances back often focus on relationships; a third of nostalgic thoughts involve other people. And nostalgic memories quite often feature a so-called redemptive theme or master sequence-a story line that begins with a bad experience out of which something good ensures."

I'm out of the loop on this. My nostalgia involves clips (little videos) that play in my head. They involve drinking out of the hose on a hot day; watching my grand mother laugh so hard that her belly shook, her toothless mouth was open, and her corn cob pipe was held high; the clink of glasses at my parents' cocktails parties; Christmas morning-the first few moments (the sensory overload and the smiles on my dad and sister's faces) of it, just little short bursts of video. I remember mastering riding a bike, and being forced off of the diving board and then loving it.

I'm interested in others' tales of nostalgia. Does anyone match the findings described in the research? You can answer anonymously if you wish or you can share openly. I'm just curious is all.

Much love.

The geek in the glasses.

YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT...I'M FULL OF PRESERVATIVES...

2010-09-11T09:43:00.000-07:00

Okay, so school's back. Annddd...Imma little out of shape-IQ wise. I took the summer off and yowsa. If you don't use it, you lose it. So as I was doing my home work, I looked at my study area and this is what I saw...that's my IPod, my current and prior texts books (prior books are a good source of references for my homework), tylenol, a huge container of Mt. Dew, and my cell phone. If you scroll down to the next pic, it was my actual shopping cart from the day before...breakfast of champions...and by champions, I mean future cardiac patients....CIAO!

I'LL HAVE THE TWINS TO GO, PLEASE...

2010-09-07T15:34:00.000-07:00

This is at Mom's house. We were chasing 2 different balloons, I think, and we kept it up for about 30 minutes. Eli and Abby stayed on the couch and babies ran around them and over them and through them. It was adorable...
I remember what's it like to be Daddy's girl...it's the best...this photo made my heart sing.
Charlie has the most soulful expressions of any 5 people I know....put together, enlarged, and magnified...they can't outdo the Charlie Boy.
Hi Charlie Boy....What? You want me over there? Sure...whatever you say....
Abby's face...eternal motherhood...that's all I see.....
That's me and my wittie bittie boys. Sure. They never even started off wittie bittie. But let me tell you, that spot, right there between those big boys, is the safest I'll ever be. :)
Me and the babies...this is what my face will look like if I make it to the Celestial Kingdom...
Charlie loves all appliances (I assume), but he adores my phone because he appears to connect to the internet each and every time he gets it. It's uncanny. I can't even do it.
I don't know what happened here, but somebody had to fix it...NOW...that face could break anyone's heart...look at it! It makes me want to put bleach in my eyes to get the image out....
"You can't see me!!!"

LOVING THE LOBSTER...

2010-09-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

Sometimes Peter does things that I can't explain. He's a New Englander, born and bred. He's stoic, pragmatic, practical, not given to whimsy or small talk. He's not a "mingler". He works with his hands. He's "salt of the earth". You know, THAT kind of guy. Getting the picture? So when his youngest sister recently gifted him with a huge, stuffed apparently female lobster with overly botoxed lips, he became rather enamored of it...defying all explanation. He brought it out in Columbus and insisted that we each have our picture taken with it. Not only our picture, but that we lovingly embrace it. Love the lobster....LOVE IT!!! And so I present....

Above is Peter "hiding" the lobster in a bedspread to "surprise" my brother, who was the first victim, sorry, recipient of the "love the lobster" campaign.
David was....um....a little stunned....
But David, being the nice guy he is, embraced the lobster...nay, he "loved" the lobster..
Next came my sister. She loved the lobster, but not without a strangle hold around its lobster neck. She's nothing if not passive-aggressive....believe...I'm her "little" sister...I know....
Next came Eli....he was used to it by now...he had loved the lobster in Michigan and now in Ohio...he was getting used to inter-species affection...
This is my bro, David's family. Mary obediently embraced the lobster, which was approximately as tall as her. Look at David's face. He was enjoying this....much more than he should have....

This is my mother with the lobster. Notice the walker in the distance. Peter had strategically moved the walker out of the way so mother couldn't escape....of course, I may be wrong about that....possibly...but does it look to YOU like she can get away?....hmmmmm???

This is all of us loving the lobster. I think the lobster looks inebriated. For real. Look at it. And look at its lips. The fact that Peter likes this thing sooo much makes me wonder if I need to look at Botox a little harder....and maybe some red lipstick...and a sun lamp....and some more xanax....

VACATION LEIGHTON PICTURES-FOR INQUIRING MINDS

2010-09-03T11:46:00.000-07:00

Here's Eli with his Abbott cousins. They had a lot of fun together.
This is left to right on top: John Leighton, Peter, and Marti's husband. In front, Vicki Leighton, me (laughing because John said something funny at the worst possible time!!!) and Marti Abbot (Peter and John's sister).
Me composed at the 2nd shot.
John, Marti and Peter in a "cheeky" shot. I told them they would thank me later...they did....
Marty and Peter.
Me and my mother-in-law doing a dance.
Peter and his sister Eydie. He was playing a joke on her about bending his silly index finger.
Then he yelled "OUCH" really loud and scared her to death. Yea...he thought it was hysterical.
Peter, his mom, and I...look how cute she was in our "dancing" photo.
Grandma sharing family history with Elijah.

That's the photo update for inquiring minds.

ALFRED...

2010-09-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here with my mother. It's 1:30 in the morning. She's having a snack. We're talking about the common housefly. This is what she just said to me...verbatim:

"You know, the other day, Billy and Bev was over (my cousin and his wife) and there was a fly buzzing all around us, just making us crazy. Tiffany (my niece) said, 'Oh, don't worry about that fly, Grandma, they only live for 24 hours and then they die'. I never heard tell a'such a thing. That durned fly irritated me forever. After three days I yelled at him, 'Hell with ya! You're name's Alfred. You're a pet now!"

Yea...classic...

NEW YORK CHURCH HISTORIC SITES

2010-08-31T16:49:00.000-07:00

This is us between the two houses where Joseph Smith, Jr. lived. That's the Palmyra Temple behind us.

These are our sweet friends, the Jones' family. They live close to where we were visiting. We love them and their children. They are super kind, compassionate, loving, generous, and celestial.
Me and Georgia on her birthday. She is very creative. We got into a discussion on where her house would go if it floated away on balloons. For instance, I asked her what would happen if the house flew over Italy. Georgia replied that the people would look up and say, "Ciao and wow!" We giggled incessantly because of her charm. And she's a celebrity-Little Miss Ontario County!
This is the room that Joseph slept in with his siblings. The room off of this room is where his sisters slept. This is where the angel Moroni appeared to him three times in one night to tell him about "golden plates".
The photo above is of the "Sacred Grove". This is where 14-year-old Joseph Smith knelt in prayer, asking which Church to join, and received the 1st Vision of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
This is the house that the Joseph Smith Sr. and his family (including Joseph Smith, Jr and his wife Emma) lived when Joseph Smith Jr. (a few yrs after the 1st Vision), finally was directed to the Hill Cumorah where the golden plates (later, the Book of Mormon) were buried in a hill. We saw a couple of the places where he had to hide the plates. This is the room where Joseph lost 116 pages of the manuscript and where he walked up and down lamenting losing his soul because he had not listened to his Heavenly Father regarding said manuscript pages.
This is the top of the hill Cumorah, where the golden plates were buried, which later became the Book of Mormon.

From here, we went to Michigan to attend a family wedding and meet with my in-laws, who were wonderful. Much love was generated.

WE DON'T EAT THE EYES, DEAR.

2010-08-25T18:58:00.000-07:00

Today we visited Rockland, Maine, where my husband lived as a child/adolescent and where he lived with his sons for a time. We also visited Sprucehead Island, where his friend, Jim, owns an island off the coast, because let's face it, it's tough to own an island that's not off the coast. If the island is located within a mall in a field, who's going to believe you?

The little house on the island that Peter's dad built when Pete was just a boy. That's the ocean in the front yard. I know!!!
Peter's father's grave. He thought it would be appropriate to lay an apple on it from the orchard.
Rockland, Maine harbor.

This is Jim's boat. And Jim's dog riding on the front of it. We loved this dog. It looked exactly like our Snoopy, except smaller. Even the markings were eerily similar. Great dog....and sailor.
This is the ladder one has to climb to get off the boat and up to the pier in order to get to the house on the island. Yea. When I was coming down, Jim said to Peter, "I think we gawt us ahn island girl heah". High praise, indeed.

Here's the four of us after dinner. We were stuffed but having so much fun together. It's me, Peter, Jim and his adorable wife Pam. Pam was Eli's "mommy" while he was in Maine. She took care of him in the morning before school, after school, and fed him all the time. She adored him. She had a lot of fun with him this trip.
Here's the motley two. They grew up together. Trouble.
Here was the FIRST platter of lobster that Jim fixed. He caught them himself. That's his profession. Aren't they pretty?

This was how it was served to me. For real. I just looked at it. Peter smiled. "Deb's never hahd a real Maine lobstah", he said. I heard those soft "R"s. So I just watched everyone and did what they were doing. Pam offered to tell me about the meat in the legs, but first you DO have to pull them off. Some people eat the green stuff inside, called "tamale"...seriously. It's not bad. I had to try it. I met another one of Pete's friends later in the evening and I said, "I wasn't prepared to see the eyes of the lobster" and she said, rather frantically, "Oh dear! we never eat the eyes"!
This is Pam, waving good-bye from the pier of her island as we left on the lobster boat. I love this picture of her. Good-bye Pam. We'll be back!

OLDE NORTH CHURCH, COPP'S CEMETERY, RAIN, FOG, BOSTON

2010-08-24T18:00:00.000-07:00

Above is the steeple of the Olde North Church as seen from the streets of Boston. It's the Church where the two lanterns were hanged (hung?) indicating that the British were "coming by sea"-letting the Sons of Liberty, of which Paul Revere was a member, to put their plan into action.
Some history of the Olde North Church.

In the Church itself, families "buy" individual pews that are enclosed. They are "assigned" seating.
Revere's descendants still maintain upkeep of the Church.
These are our feet on the Freedom Trail, which is marked by a narrow band of bricks along the sidewalk in Boston. You follow the bricks through the historic parts of Boston, which are plentiful.
This is Peter and I at the Copp's Cemetery. It's the oldest cemetery in Boston. It contains the remains of many of the pilgrims. Some of the headstones date back to the 1600s. I wish I had the words to explain the feelings present in that place. Truly, it was sacred space. I loved it. The history, the courage, the commitment to values and beliefs, the faith...everything.

I loved the above two headstones. They were joined together by intertwining vines. I was very moved by them. There were the only two headstones that I could find that were like this. I felt it was very poignant. I couldn't see any other stones with any vines on them, much less joining them with another stone.
Most of the stones had one of the three engravings above on them. Over 80% had the top engraving on the stones. When you see it, it's rather disturbing. We tend to celebrate life, but culturally, life was so difficult, I guess they viewed mortality differently. So, it looks rather gruesome when confronted face to face on those dark, stark, slate headstones in the rain and fog. It was unsettling. Below are the explanations for each of the etchings found on the stones in the cemetery. It's very interesting, so I thought I would include it.

Tonight, we're in Maine. Tomorrow, we will go to Rockland, Camden, and Sprucehead Island areas. I'm very happy to see where Peter and the boys lived. All is well.

OUR NEW ENGLAND TRIP THUS FAR: LEXINGTON, PITTSFIELD, BEDFORD, CUMMINGTON

2010-08-23T16:49:00.000-07:00

The above picture is Peter at the old Leighton Orchards where he spent his summers as a youth. He was picking some apples to eat. He was so happy to be there visiting. We saw the old barn and old property. There are now some cows there who were quite interested in us. I fell in love with Peter all over again.
This was the Minute Man statue in downtown Lexington, Mass., where the Revolutionary War began. This area is so soaked in history, it's palpable (not to sound cliche...).
All of the houses and other structures here are SO OLD!!! This particular house was built in 1776! Can you image how many times you would have to update the appliances? Um...first you would have to INVENT the appliances!!!!
Yea...there are probably a few of the the same "old" family names that began this parish in 1691. Talk about turf wars.....
While we were snapping pictures of the house where Peter lived until 3rd grade, this wee tee tiny bird's nest fell out of a tree right in front of him. It was woven of twigs and horse hair. We saved it. It's so delicate and it seemed to find us, so....we had to save it.

So! That's our trip so far. We've taken over 70 pictures so far. These are just a few. We thinking of our family and loved ones. We love New England. It very cool here and some of the trees are already changing. I'll try to post more pictures tomorrow.

HERE'S THE SUBWAY STORY-IT WAS MOUNTAIN DEW

2010-08-21T00:07:00.000-07:00

Emmy sent me to get lunch for the three of us: Em, Clarkie and me. While standing in line, I had my gigantic plastic cup and straw filled with diet Mt. Dew. We all know what Mt. Dew looks like, right?
Exactly, but the contents are yellowish. Okay. So, I had an armful of several bags of chips. I was also holding my big container of unmarked Mt. Dew, my phone and my wallet. I dropped one of the bags and had to bend all the way over to pick it up. When I did this, the Mt. Dew spilled out of the container, making a loud, satisfying splashing sound onto the linoleum floor, and making a nice, neat puddle EXACTLY between my feet. I looked down, while still in the bendy position, realized what it looked like, and quickly jumped back up. I looked down again because I couldn't believe my eyes, or my ears, or my luck.

The man standing next to me in line then looked at my eyes, looked down at "my" puddle, back at my eyes, and then, less-than-covertly, moved back one step while attempting to appear that he was studying the menu.

I looked at him and said, "It's Mountain Dew. It spilled". Mind you, I had absolutely NOTHING on my person that indicated anything I held WAS or CONTAINED Mt. Dew because I had geniusly poured the Mt. Dew into a separate container earlier that morning. Also, that particular Subway doesn't even SELL Mt. Dew. He didn't respond. Smart move.

I then looked at my sandwich maker. I said, "Um, I spilled some Mt. Dew, but don't worry! It's diet, so it won't be sticky". What the heck! Why would I say that? What sane person would add more information than necessary? A sane person WOULDN'T do that. A desperately embarrassed person would. A person with Mt. Dew still clinging to her calves. A person who discreetly stayed in her puddle and continued to order her sandwich with some degree of enthusiasm...just to hold on for that last surviving shred of dignity...which was somewhere in that puddle of Mt. doggone Dew.

And that's the story.

PRESCRIPTIONS, BUICKS, SMILES

2010-08-20T14:05:00.000-07:00

Here's what really happened. I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. It was a lovely day and I left all the windows in my car down. Actually, the day was hellish, but my air conditioner is broken, but why complain, right? I was told to take one of the pills from my Rx IMMEDIATELY with a lot of water. I did this in the parking lot. I am nothing, if not compliant. *sure*

Anyway, they were horse pills-HUGE. So, as I swallowed this Buick, it became lodged in my throat and fought with all of its horsepower all the way down, sideways. I began to burp, which became quite "engaged", shall we say. I was belching and growling and guttural for the entire time I was backing out of my parking space. Imagine my shock when I turned and saw a very attractive gentleman nodding and smiling at me through my open back passenger window. I hit the brakes and sat there stunned. My hand flew to my mouth and I actually said the following, "Oh my gosh. I am so sorry. I never ever belch like that! I just took a big horse pill and it was stuck and I was trying to clear my throat. I am just so sorry!" The entire time my head is shaking, my eyes are huge, my hands was waving-the whole ditzy blond 9 yards, right?

His smile wavers for perhaps an nth of a second and this is his response, "Okay. I was just letting you know that you had more clearance while you were backing your car out."

I do NOT make this stuff up. Don't get me started on what happened at Subway today.

JUST GET ME THERE ALREADY...

2010-08-19T10:13:00.001-07:00

We're leaving on Saturday morning. Early. I have a UTI. I'm nauseous, feverish, in pain, and fatigued as all get out. I'm trying to keep my mind occupied but it's difficult. I have a constant fever now and all I want to do is kvetch. And then I remember this:

This is our big road trip with Elijah before he leaves on his 2-year, full-time, compassionate services mission for our Church. That, in and of itself, is exciting.

My husband will have 2 weeks off and that hasn't happened in I-don't-know-how-long. (My normally stoic hubby is actually getting a little giddy!)

My family ADORES him so on Saturday nite, it's PETER APPRECIATION NIGHT at my sister and bro-in-law's house and their fabulous yard (which reminds me a little of the Secret Garden *to me*). All the in-laws and out-laws arrive and everyone (including Peter) karaokes and laughs and eats and looks at pictures and teases and basically it's Heaven with a cool deck and some humidity.

I'll finally get to see Maine and all of my husband's favorite beaches and old haunts. He is excited to have me meet his old friends and see the house his father built.

We're driving back thru the Finger Lakes regions to meet with our friends, (if they're home), the Jones' (whom we adore!!!).

We going thru Kirtland, Ohio to visit some historic Church sites.

We heading up to Michigan to visit with MY in-laws and attend a wedding and have some good family time up there. It's over due and much good is anticipated.

Then we may hop over to Nauvoo and Carthage (more Church history sites).

Then back to C-bus for more family time and fly home. GRANDBABIES!!!!! MY BABIES!!!! DUCK & DOOV!!!! T.T!!!!!!!

THE MOMMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay...I feel better already. Pics to be forthcoming.

In the meantime, here are some pics of Pete when he and his sons lived in Maine together several years ago. I'm going to make him look at these again, just to get him even more jazzed. Cause imma like that...and he's wearing lobster claws on his hat...so he's asking for it...

The Lost Civilizations of North America documentary DVD Trailer

2010-08-18T18:18:00.000-07:00

PAPA PETER, DINO, MAE, THE WHOLE SH'BANG

2010-08-17T11:47:00.001-07:00

There are pictures following of PaPa Peter and "The Dean", or Dino. Peter hadn't seen him yet and was dying to get his hands on the new grandson. But, while we were there, Mae did her mothering thing. She handles Dino like a pro. She is protective, soothing, and confident with him. More than that, she is soft with Clarkie while she holds their new brother. Peter was so impressed by this behavior, he spoke about all the way home. He was amazed at her maturity, poise, loving nature and ability to juggle both siblings with so much patience and nurturance at her young age. He went on to say, "That is definitely a learned behavior she picked up from watching her mother. I'm so impressed with her."......me too..... I heart Mae Mae.

Now....PaPa Peter and Dino...

CHOICES, HAPPINESS, DEPRESSION, PHONES

2010-08-14T14:44:00.000-07:00

Interesting...

I was watching two lectures this afternoon. One was by Malcolm Gladwell. You may know him by his bestsellers, "Blink", "The Tipping Point" and "What the Dog Saw". He's very interesting and known for his observational skills and story telling prowess. He spoke about Howard Moskowitz and how he "changed the world" through spaghetti sauce. More precisely, how he changed the world by giving us choices. Moskowitz is a psychophysicist, which is a person that tends to measure things...like statistics or trends yada yada. In the early 70s, Mo (forgive me Mr. Moskowitz) was asked to test for the exact, perfect sweetness for the new field of diet soda. Pepsi knew that the range existed between 8 and 12 on the sweetness scale, but would Mo be kind enough to run some taste tests, look at the resulting stat curves, and come up with a marketable number and product? One thing led to another and Mo figured that there is no "perfect" food of any kind. There is no perfect soda. There are no perfect salad dressings and there are for sure no perfect spaghetti sauces. There are only different "types"...options....choices. From the early 70s, when there was only one kind of spaghetti sauce, we now have over 32 different types of Prego alone. Turns out, people especially like chunky. And they like it to stick to their pasta. The original spaghetti sauce people, Ragu, were basing their sauce on the original cultural recipes out of Italy, which were extremely thin sauces that ran to the bottom of the bowl when poured over the pasta. Well...that's the talk...choices choices choices=happy, informed and satisfied consumers.

Then I happened to click on another lecture. This one by Barry Schwartz, whose book I happen to have and which is called, "Stumbling Upon Happiness". His lecture was called, "The Paradox of Choice"....okay....

Turns out that we have too many choices in the world. We've always associated choices with freedom, right? We get to choose. Freedom of choice is good, right? Wrong. A couple or 3 choices is good. 32 choices is bad. It leads to paralysis and regret, to name a couple of things. He cited a company that offered over 50 different retirement plans to its employees to choose from. Guess what happened? Over the next year, only 10% of the employees took advantage of the matched-funds plans. There were too many to choose from! Maybe if there had been 3 or 5 or 10, but 50?!? Paralysis and regret. We also get slammed with a thing called, "escalation of expectations". This leads to increased depression...so add THAT to your paralysis and regret. Ugh. His summation? You'll probably never be truly pleasantly surprised and the key to happiness?...lowered expectations.

My husband is picking out a new phone. His son is pushing for a high tech, super computer phone that can take underwater videos, fax, open the gates outside our apartments and turn off our neighbor's dialysis machine. I just need a phone that can handle the interior of my purse. Choices, choices, choices. This has caused no small debate in our house. If he gets the high tech phone, my guess is he will be very very unhappy. Cause there's no telling what will happen to that phone....what buttons will get pushed...what screens may pop up....how often it will end up getting shut down/off...anyone getting me?

This cold is kicking my behind. I can reasonably expect to feel moderately better tomorrow, or can reasonably expect to feel the same as I do today. Either way, my expectations are low and I'm going to be okay with it.

:)

That's me...the little engine on xanax.

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/malcolm_gladwell_on_spaghetti_sauce.html

http://www.ted.com/talks/barry_schwartz_on_the_paradox_of_choice.html.

DR. TEMPLE GRANDIN...WE CAN SAVE EACH OTHER.

2010-08-13T20:28:00.001-07:00

Is anyone familiar with the TED talks? They're incredible. Simply. Incredible. They are a series of lectures of various themes. The site is: http://www.ted.com/talks

You can choose a theme such as "creativity" "science" "culture" etc.

I was watching Temple Grandin. She was diagnosed with autism at a relatively young age. She holds a PhD. During the 80s, she revolutionized cattle slaughterhouses to make them more compassionate and humane. She now gives lectures and has numerous speaking engagements. She is a prolific writer, "Thinking In Pictures" is one of my favorites.

On this TED talk (they average 15-20 minutes), she spoke to an audience about the need to embrace those who think differently and how much we should value aspies and autists-those who have speech capabilities and other talents. She was asked a few questions at the end. One of the questions, but mainly her answer, left me reeling.

The question was, "Is it unrealistic for them (parents of aspies and autists) to hope or think that their child loves them?" *this question was asked because sometimes it may appear that people in the autistic spectrum are unemotional or non-responsive to affection*

Dr. Grandin's answer? "Well. Let me tell you, that child will be loyal and if that house is burning down, they're going to get you out of it!"

*melt*

SO THEN DEBBIE SAID....

2010-08-12T20:11:00.001-07:00

So here's what went down today at MY house...

The missionaries, which travel in pairs, came over to the house to "teach" my stepson, Eli, one of the lessons to prepare him for his mission. They were talking to him about the value of souls. They asked him what he felt were the feelings that Heavenly Father had for his children. This is the conversation that followed:

MISSIONARIES: So, Eli, how do you think God feels about His children?

ELI: Well, I'm sure he loves them. Except for the Chinese.

MISSIONARIES: *shocked expressions* Why don't you think God loves the Chinese?

ELI: Debbie said the Chinese have no souls.

MISSIONARIES: *leaning back against the couch in astonishment* She did? Wha???

ELI: Yea. She said the Chinese have no souls and God doesn't love them...at all.

At this point I leaned forward and with a very even voice I said, "Eli. Tell the missionaries that you're making all of this up. Tell them that you're lying. Tell them that you're making a joke. A very very bad joke."

After what seemed like an eternity, all three of them collapsed in laughter. I'm sure the laughter was fueled by relief on the part of the missionaries, and....on the part of Eli?...I have no idea....he just laughed.

That was just the beginning of my day....

My world. Welcome to it.