Friday, November 30, 2007

Interesting AND disturbing (the title of my autobiography?)



Oh...I had a huge entry here...came back to edit...and now it's gone...I can't redo it...such is life...but it was genius...GENIUS...j/k

Thursday, November 29, 2007

"In Your Eyes".... (Peter Gabriel)






In your eyes I see...

The light the heat, I am complete

I see the doorways of a thousand churches

The resolution, of all the fruitless searches

Oh, I see the light and the heat.

I want to be that complete

I want to touch the light, the heat, I see in your eyes

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Fun Day At Emmy's!

Yesterday, I went to Em's house. In the morning I had an accupuncture appointment, which was heaven (we really worked the emotional meridian...I don't know what it is but it involves needles between my thumb and forefinger and my great toe). Following my appointment, I listened to my voicemail and there was Mae's sweet little voice telling me that she loved me and all of the things we could do together when I came over such as, "I love it when you play with me outside and I love it when you play with me in my room"....oh puleese...like I need to hear more...I got on the horn and called Em and said, "Ummmm, I just listened to my voice mail from Mae and I'm heading for Interstate 10 as we speak."

So, it was a grand day...and I'm totally spoiled after I leave there...I feel bad tho...it's like I get bribed when I show up there..."Mom's coming, quick, compile a list of items she'll love and can carry home with her so she'll be motivated to visit again because our love isn't enough!" And then the guilt hits...

This is the list of items I schlepped home from my daughters house:

1. wonderfully scented, brand new soy candle that burns for 20 years, scented like a pine forest that spontaneously sprouts fresh baked apple pies.

2. a huge bulk-type box of herb tea that contains my favorite African herb, rooibios (what?, you don't have a favorite African herb?) along with herbs from 15 other continents...it's sweet and spicy.

3. the fragrance of her favorite fragrance that Mae and I drenched ourselves in so I smelled like Emmy all the rest of the day, as did Mae until bath time.

4. a package of designer "I" water for my facial skin that will make me look decades younger and allow me to leap over tall buildings in a single bound while baking cookies for the homeless and compaigning for my favorite presidential candidate, as soon as I figger out who that is.

5. a huge warehouse size bag of dehydrated apple chips, which I personally LOVE and which I will not share...and for which I will have to stand accountable for at the judgement bar...this is why I'm hoping the cookies and homeless thing mentioned above will come in handy...it's a balance you know?

6. and a restaurant called the Tortilla Factory. I came home with a dozen tamales, homemade tortillas, pica de gallo to die for and real home-style Mexican refried beans...oh my...

When she emails pics, I'll post them. Clarkie was absolutely edible and I still have to resist the desire to refer to him as Chuckie. Why is that? Why is he Chuckie to me? Because he makes me chuckle? He's perfect...absolutely perfect...no weak points.

Mae...ah Mae...

And Em...missed her so much while I was in Ohio with her siblings...she is beautiful and funny and gracious and compassionate and bright and perfect.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

A Recent Conversation With My Dog...

My Dog: I need to go out

Me: I can't dude. I've got color on my hair...gray at the crown and all, you know.

Dog: Sorry, nature calls.

Me: Dude! Just wait another 30 minutes! I can't go out there looking like this.

Dog: I said sorry...let's go!

Me: Have a seat. Good boy.

Dog: Oh, that's not humiliating. You feed me crazy-rich food all weekend and you and your opposable thumbs can't take my old butt out to the golf course (your idea, by the way, that whole golf course thing) so I can relieve myself "legally" so I won't get into trouble?...do I have that right?

Me: Please Snoopy...I won't even dry my hair, I'll rinse and run out with wet hair...just hold it together...PLEASE???

Dog: It's dark outside, everyone is 108, they're in bed.

Me: Dude, it's November, it's a Hunter's moon, it's the brightest moon of the year...it casts freakin' shadows...

Dog: it's your carpet...how do you like this preview fart?

Me: Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude!

ADDENDUM: I took Snoop outside with my hair slicked back with color...complete in pajamas, short white socks and black maryjane shoes-stunning...Buddha went with us...he IMMEDIATELY ran up to a stranger...under a street light. Snoop took 5 dumps, I swear, when he was done his flippin collar was looser (and let me add that I clean up after him)...I went way over developing time and my head caught on fire...adding further light to the already illuminated street...

Was this your house?...me neither...



Yea...time marches forward...this wasn't my Thanksgiving but I'm still thankful for the multiple blessings in my life. I'm 51 and still have my Mom. Each of my children are well. I have four beautiful grandchildren. I'm sealed to a worthy Priesthood holder. I have a roof over my head and food to eat and clothes to wear and reliable transportaion and I even have two lovable canine companions that teach me unconditional love every single day.

As I've said before, the artist of this picture, Norman Rockwell, is my great great uncle (my biological brush with greatness) and I don't believe this was his Thanksgiving experience either...but hey, it's good to have a standard to shoot for...perhaps I need to purchase a cottony apron, maybe even billowy curtains...strangely, the fellow in the lower right corner who is the ONLY family member looking into the "camera" actually resembles my husband Peter, who is also from New England...*insert foreboding music here*

I'm back and readjusting to life in the poor lane...all is well...me out

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

THE LONGER I'M HERE...

The longer I'm here in C-bus, the younger I become...I'm not certain that's a good thing. By younger, I mean the birth order thing. I am seeing more and more the positions Mom and my sister Stephanie and I settle into after a protracted period of time spent together. The "newness" of my being home is gradually wearing out, which is probably a good thing; at the very least it is an interesting thing, and therefore my place in the family is revisted. Sitting in the backseat of the car is very natural, remaining silent during little arguments between mom and the big sister is also very natural...to take sides would be lethal...and the most interesting observation of late is that my when my oldest son Eric and I are at my mother's house together with my sister (who is 9 years older than me) I feel a sibling-type of relationship with him...almost a comraderie with him that I used to share with my brother in the same type of dynamic..."us" against "them" kind of thing....so very weird...and so fun to observe...but I don't feel that way with my youngest son Eli because he is my baby...I'm guessing that's the reason...and he will remain thus (the baby-obviously). Even tho he is graduating from OSU and his business acumen is impressive, as is his faith and spiritual prowess, he is my baby and my eyes twinkle with pride when he speaks and his voice echoes after he stops talking. Oh, I love my boys...

This trip will hurt when it ends...ouchy already....

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

A DAY L ATE AND 30 YEARS IN THE MAKING...

Happy birthday Emily Slusser...my blond haired, blue-eyed girl. Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for your righteous example every day and for loving your old weird mom. Thank you for bringing Jacob into our lives and for stunningly beautiful and bright Mae Mae and Clarkie (who looks so much like you and Eric as a baby-round, pink, blond and blue-eyed "an Emmy-designer child"). Thank you for the laughter each and every day when we talk...for the stories and the memories and the anecdotes and the blow-by-blow account of Life With Emmy-An Adventure For the Kind-Hearted.

You are so loved...so very very loved.

Love, Moo