PALOMAR REVISITED....

Today we dragged the boy with us back to the Palomar Observatory and this time we actually took the tour. Good thing we went today. Tomorrow is the final day for tours until next April. The tour was pretty interesting. It lasted over an hour. Peter was like a 5-year-old. Eli was like a bored 18-year-old. I was like...well...me. It's very very cold in that observatory. And what some people don't know is that there are multiple observatories on that mountain. There are four, including the big lens that's so famous, and three little Monopoly-shaped houses that connected via aluminun-type piping. These little houses actually contain their own mirrors and telescoping equipment. They combine their lights through the silver piping and can render images from space that have greater resolution than their super huge neighbor.

The guides explained all of the genius and IQ points that went into the mirror that is used at Palomar. The lens is 24 inches thick with a 220 inch diameter. It's shaped like a bowl. The mirror was made by Corning in New York and shipped via train to California before WWII going only 25 mph and only during the day. People lined up along side the tracks to watch it go past. Everything in that building speaks to the glory days of American manufacturing and industry. The wooden doors, the tiles, every piece of construction and work is a piece of pride.

And props to the four tour guides; 3 physicists and one docent-all great guys. They have to answer all of the questions of the tourists. One of the people (bless their heart) asked, "Why don't you do something to modernize the mirror, you know, UPDATE it!" The guy waited maybe, .00025 seconds before answering, "This is the one of the most advanced pieces of technology on the planet. It can't BE updated. It's the perfect machine." I was waiting for an imaginary pie to fly down and hit the tourist in his face. Somethings are better BECAUSE they were made 60 years ago. That, combined with today's technology to KEEP them better, equal one dynamite piece of machinery...I'd like to include myself in that equation.... :)

The lens has photographed some of the most amazing scenery ever created using technology that I can't understand, let alone explain. The heavens often take my breath away. With boundaries that big, it takes God to make you feel that you're secure-it does for me anyway. And maybe that's why the following quote resonates with me:

What is essential is invisible to the eye, Antoine de Saint Exupery

YANKEES, RODENTS, AND UNCLES (GO YANKEES)

Well, it's 5:00 a.m. here. I've been up since 4:00. Just can't sleep I guess. I stayed in bed as long as I could-all cuddled up in the comforter that Emmy was kind enough to loan me. I wrap myself up in it, in addition to really warm pajamas, for the warm & cuddly factor. It keeps my bones and joints from aching. (Thanks Em...I know I know, I must return it to you someday...) So as I was lying there I was thinking of words. I thought it you put the words "food" and "cat" together, you can reasonably come up with "fat". I also thought you could come up with "cood", but that doesn't make sense, unless it's a nickname for an Appalachian uncle (Hey Uncle Cood!) or an Amazon rodent (The diminutive cood is often devoured by the more aggressive rodents that inhabit the lower canopies of the rain forest).

Out here in the living room, where I have vertical blinds on all of the windows (and plenty of outside lighting going on) and mirrors everywhere (bad feng shui people....bad) my walls are covered in reflected vertical stripes. This is an interesting effect. This gives the effect of my walls being dressed in bad prison clothing-not too awful when you consider the slimming effect of the vertical strips. My rooms have never looked thinner.

Snicker doodles never tasted more satisfying than they do before sun up.

The Yankees won last night against the Phillies. I'm not that big of a sports nut, but I have an emotional attachment to the Yanks. I'm not anti-Phillies, I'm just pro-Yanks. But there's a lot of people out there that are I-WANT-THE-YANKEES-TO-DIE kind of thing. I don't think that's sports. I think that's displaced rage. Get some therapy. Maybe your parents bought you the wrong bike when you were twelve or something.

I'm going back to my toaster oven bed. I should be fully cooked by 8:00. According to this post, I'm half-baked.

HEIFER CATALOG AND THE MAHARISHI....

I receive a catalog that refers to itself as "The Most Important Gift Catalog In the World". It's called Heifer International. It IS an important catalog and it admits that its statement is "bold". Here's the idea behind Heifer (taken from its inside cover):

* You decide to donate a sheep in honor of your mother, who has always loved these gentle animals.
*Your mother receives a holiday gift card from you describing the generous contribution you've made in her honor.
*Thanks to your gift, one more family is on the road to self-reliance.
*Once the family has completed training and has prepared appropriate facilities, they then receive a healthy female sheep.
*Throughout the year, the sheep provides soft, warm wool and the promise of new hope for each family.
*The family gives one or more of its sheep's offspring to another family in need in the community. That's part of the Passing on the Gift tradition that participants agree to when they become partners with Heifer International. Heifer also ensures there's a healthy male sheep in the village for breeding.
*The 2nd recipient family agrees to contribute one or more of their sheep's offspring to a family in need-who then ALSO agrees to Pass on the Gift.

and on and on and on...

This is GLOBAL...

But! When my daughter, Emily, was browsing through my Heifer catalog, she didn't know any of this. She just found a gift catalog called "Heifer". It didn't have pretty, sparkly things in it. It had pictures of small, brown, wizened people holding chickens, or little girls with pretty smiles in Eastern Europe holding goats. Emily said, "Gosh, how come I don't get these kinds of catalogs sent to me"?

Because, Emily, you have never inquired about the Masters Degree program in Maharish Vedic Science at the Maharishi University in Iowa, which was founded by the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, which would have put you on the mailing list for Heifer Catalogs, OR taken that Transcendental Meditation course I was raving about back in the mid 90s, maybe THEN, you would be sitting with your OWN Heifer catalog in your home right now....just sayin'...I can hear your envy, girlie.....HAHAHAHAHAHAH

MARSHMALLOWS....FAIRY FOOD AT ITS FINEST....

I had the following conversation the other night when I babysat Mae and Clark at their house. We were eating marshmallows out of a bag that we found sitting (opened, thank you food elves) on the kitchen counter. I should preface this with-Mae and I have an ongoing conversation about the existence (or nonexistence) of fairies. I, for one, am a fairy proponent. Mae, on the other hand, maintains that fairies do not exist. I realize that this appears counter-intuitive and that we would be on opposite sides of that particular argument, but this is Planet Moo Moo so....it is what it is... So...that said....

MAE: *biting into a marshmallow* Grandma, do you know how to make marshmallows?

ME: No. No I don't. I would imagine it involves lots of sugar.

MAE: I wish we knew how to make these. They're very good.

ME: I think marshmallows are fairy food.

MAE: *after a long silence and a sigh* Grandma, I don't believe in fairies. They're not real.

ME: *one raised eyebrow and nodding head* Then how do you explain marshmallows?

MAE: *stunned silence*


I may have looked calm and reflective, but inside,

IMMA DO A DANCE. IMMA DO A DANCE

THIS IS HOW WE SAY GOOD-BYE TO OUR DOG...

This evening, at 5:00 PM, we'll be saying good-bye to our old friend, Snoopy. We're sending him back to his Creator. He's had a good run. He's around 12 years of age. I've called him a cow-dog because of his markings...and well, his "shape", but I digress.

Snoopy and I have been friends for the last six years. It has been a good six year run for both of us. We adopted each other. I think we each felt "settled" with the other. He had someone that was tender with him, and I had someone that would protect and follow me around, as well as sit on my feet to keep them warm. We understood each other. My little yorkie, "Sunny", was staying in Fallbrook at the time Snoopy and I met. He had been killed by coyotes-but I hadn't heard it yet...Snoopy somehow "knew" about it before I did. That morning, Snoopy began to follow me around for the first time. He was waiting for me as I stepped out of my bathroom that morning. I giggled when I found him there (after I almost broke my neck tripping over him) and patted him and thanked him. He followed me around that morning before work and watched me as I walked out the door. He was so cute that morning. His behavior really stuck with me. That afternoon, I found out about Sunny. I came home and Snoopy was there waiting for me, continuing to follow me around. He never stopped. Never. He still follows me around, only now it's with his eyes because he can't walk anymore. Now, I follow him. I lay next to him. I sit next to him. We sit outside together.

But that's how Eli and Peter feel as well. Everyone loves Snoopy. Even our neighbors from our last neighborhood. Everyone loved the "kind, old gentleman". People driving by on golf carts would stop to talk to Snoopy. He has the kindest face on the planet. His eyes are so big and brown and soulful. It's how he communicates. Eli's brother and sister, Peter Jr. and Marissa each adore Snoopy as well. He's been a part of their lives for twelve years. That's a long time.

Snoopy has traveled more than most people. He lived in Maine with Peter and the boys. He loved to run along the rocky beaches there. He loved to jump and run in the snow. He didn't mind the cold. And as far as the desert goes, he never minded the heat. The dog just never complained about anything. He was always in the moment, never complaining, always obedient, always humble, always teachable, always loving, always guileless. He has been a kind and good teacher for me. Slow to anger, quick to forgive.

We have held on to Snoopy perhaps too long. As Eli and I spoke today, we decided that it's because we are perhaps being selfish. It's easier to reach out and touch him and pet him and watch him wag his tail and see him smile (yes! he certainly DOES smile!!). More than that, we may be fearful of the grief that we will experience when Snoopy is gone, because of the hole he will leave in his wake. No one can fill that. Then we discussed that fear and faith cannot coexist. If we are experiencing fear, it is because we do not have enough faith-and that needs to change.

It takes faith to let Snoopy's spirit run free. It takes faith to love Snoopy enough to release him from his body, which has become a prison for him. It takes faith to turn him over to his original Master. It takes faith to just let go.

So Snoop, tonight we will exercise our faith and release you out of the prison you are in. We will gather around you so that the last thing you see are three loving faces smiling at you. The last thing you feel will be three loving hands caressing your sweet brow. And the last thing you hear will be words of thanks for your years of service. You will feel no pain...just love. Good boy, Snoopy. Good boy.

THE BOY'S LAST (?) YOUTH STAKE HALLOWEEN DANCE?

The boy is getting prepared for what is probably his last youth stake Halloween dance. So, naturally, he came to me for a costume. Last year he went as a pirate and he liked that so this year he thought he'd do it again. But this year, he looked so dang cute with his new glasses, in my frilly blouse and silk scarf...wait...that sounds wrong at so many levels...I'll just let the pictures speak for themselves...

CHIHUAHUAS AND THEIR BARKINESS...

We have these two little chihuahuas that live next door to us. Their real names are Davey and Dewey. I call them Cheech and Chong because I like the alliteration and they're Mexican. They're crazy little dogs. They have a combined weight of zero ounces. One is tan and one is black. Their balcony is right next to the steps that lead up to our front door and porch. The steps are solely ours; we don't share the steps with anyone else, so we're the only ones who use them. However, their balcony looks out over the green and the sidewalk. So.....everyone who walks past, every dog that uses the green, every fly that buzzes, every car horn that honks in the distant, every plane that flies overhead, and virtually every shift in the harmonic convergence, causes these two to yip and bark. If one tires, the other will pick up the pace until his compadre catches his breath and then HE takes over while the other one rests on the ropes...they are a virtual tag team of barkiness.

Peter loves them. He actually stirs them up (intentionally !)when he comes home because he thinks they're cute. Also, he's a "dog person", so every dog has merit in his eyes. One time he threw a piece of ham at them. But they're so small, you have to be careful....what may be an innocent slice of lunch meat to us turns into a weapon when lobbed at a trembling, googly-eyed, Sir-Barks-A-Lot, set of toenails.

So....depending on my coping skills du jour, I may or may not open my front window and door....because to do so invites the enchanting sounds of the barkmeisters. They even recognize the sound of my lock turning in my door FROM THE INSIDE!!!...they're actually quite impressive.

Remember that song by Simon and Garfunkel that went, "Hello, silence, my old friend..." I lost that old friend's number weeks ago.....

DEAREST GRANDBABIES....ONE OF THESE DAYS....

I wish I could explain how difficult it is to be so far away from my two newest grandchildren. It's really a physical ache. My arms, indeed, ache sometimes. I can't tell you the imaginary conversations I have had with the babies, who don't know who I am. I'm so hungry for pictures and video, I feel almost ungrateful because as soon as some are published, I'm ravenous for the next set. It's ridiculous.

Can you see their smiles? Look at them!!! Those top two pictures look like cartoons, they're THAT cute!! ! They compel me to use exclamation marks at an alarming rate!!!! What's a grandma to do but blog?

I love you my precious angels. I miss you terribly. I will see you as soon as I can. I pray for you morning and night. I place you on the prayer rolls regularly. I love your mother and father. There. That's the best I can do and all I can offer....for now....but wow....are we gonna have fun one of these days.....

NEXT JUDGE ON PROJECT RUNWAY?.....NAHHHHH

SHRIN'S OUT, CHRISTOPHER'S IN, PUT UP YOUR DUKES!

Well, Shirin is gone from Project Runway. I thought for sure that Christopher would be the one to leave. But it was not to be. Shirin was likable, as is Christopher. I'm glad that Carol Hannah won. She's cute and friendly. I like it that some of them can be friendly AND talented. How about that!!!

Why is it that the ability to be friendly disappears so easily nowadays? At the slightest provocation, it evaporates like so much mist. This amazes me. It has always struck me that it's much easier to be friendly than it is to be mean... A smile costs nothing... A compliment creates so much good and keeps giving long after the words have stopped being spoken... That it's easier to build someone up than it is to tear them down.

These aren't cute bumper stickers that I've read-these are insights that I've gained over the years. How can people ignore this most simple wisdom? Goodness knows I'm a boat ride and two plane trips from perfect, but if I'm thinking cross thoughts about someone and that same person turns to me and smiles, I'm a wet noodle. It's over. I'll give them my shoes, my coat, and probably bring them home for dinner. Actually, I'm hoping that most people are like that. I'm betting that most people are like that. Maybe we just like to sound tough. Yea...maybe that's it.

Put up your dukes! Why, I oughta....

SPAM MAIL...WHAT IN THE WORLD IS MY DEMOGRAPHIC, ANYWAY???

I was getting ready to dump the items in my spam email this morning, but as I read through the subject headings, I became more and more intrigued. The subjects were so varied and odd, I felt compelled to share them. What demographic am I in, exactly? Typically I am barraged by black singles in my area who are looking for me along with offers to enlarge my manhood. But this morning's dose of weirdness was a little more varied. Here's a sampling:

From Dell: "Be one of the first: Windows 7 now preinstalled on select Dell laptops!" (Ummmm, given the extreme bugginess of the latest Windows experience, I think I'll pass...that, and I own a Mac...no thanks)

from Walmart, I received this lovely offer: "Walmart job offer 5000/month, start TODAY" (yea...right...this is the same Walmart that refuses to pay its own employees a decent enough wage therefore making them eligible for federal assistance using our tax dollars. That's right, we subsidize Walmart's employees...nice....) PASS

From Lowe's: I've received "Lowes Winter Makeover (1000 USD)!" (Golly, when I think about a makeover, lumbar doesn't come to mind...) huh uh...

And my personal favorite spam message from Lt General Fred Okolo: "The boxes are coming with diplomatic agents"....I'd better vacuum...

PALOMAR OBSERVATORY...LAKE HENSHAW...JULIAN, CA....AND OSU!

Here are some shots of our day trip to the Palomar Observatory. We had a great time. As you drive up to the observatory, it looks for the world like a huge hard boiled egg on top of this big hill. It is gleaming white...quite impressive. It was started back in the 30's. The technology and man-power that was required for this structure takes one's breath away. Everything in it takes you back in time...the big, wooden doors, the tiled floors, but the irony is the magnificent photos it continues to take of the universe. Dr. Hubble (of the famed Hubble Telescope) was s significant astrophysicist in the development and design of Palomar.

Of course, the picture of the big tree was Peter's idea....he just LOVES impressive tree trunks, and the countryside is filled with impressive oaks and such. It has different vegetation than where we live, for the most part; certainly, vastly different from the desert.

We then stopped off at a scenic vista over Lake Henshaw and had a picnic lunch. Quite nice. After that we flew through Julian (a little "apple" town) and bought a frozen Dutch Peach/Apple pie for dinner tomorrow (that will smell heavenly when I bake it) and then we ended up at the San Diego Temple. Great day.

Hope your weekend is going well also-despite the fact that OSU lost to Purdue...sorry Buckeyes....next week will be better!

MELTY MINTS AS WEAPONS...OR TOYS...EITHER ONE...

See these lovely little melty mints? In most homes, these are food. A luscious little treat one might eat following a lovely dinner spent with those you cherish being with. Perhaps they are passed around while loved ones chat during delightful and twinkling conversation. That's not the case in our house. In our house, they are weapons. They fly through the air, getting caught in your hair, zinging past your ears, stinging your cheeks, etc. The smaller ones are deadlier. At high enough speeds, they whistle.

Two nights ago, the hubs brought these home. It appeared innocent enough. "Here", he said tenderly when we had a moment to ourselves. "I thought of you today" and he handed me the mints. "Do you know that I think of you throughout the day?" he asked lovingly. My heart melted....not unlike these pretty little mints. I kept them close by all day and nibbled on them as I worked on papers and cleaning and between errands. They were a nice reminder of something sweet and romantic that my meat-and-potatoes type of husband did. Awwwwww

Last night, as we were all three sitting around the table, IT began. Peter and I were playing our game, "Quiddler" and Eli was playing on the computer. I saw something fly just over my direct line of vision and then heard a "Yow!" I didn't think much about it as these two tussle quite a bit. There is always wrestling and macho threatening. Heaven forbid if Eli scrapes himself or says the word "ouch" cause then, it's all over. In the past, Peter was shot three times and still drove himself to the emergency room. When my son, Eric, heard this, he looked at his brother (The "other" Eli-Big Eli) and said, "Dude, do you know what this means? This means we can never whine about ANYTHING EVER AGAIN!" But back to little Eli-if the poor kid so much as whimpers, his dad will say, in the least-therapeutic, most pseudo-threatening, creepiest voice ever, "Awwww, you want me to rub that for ya?" And then I fall over with laughter, just at the sheer creepiness of it and even Eli laughs and puts his hands up and forgets what he was complaining about.

Anyway, the melty-mint food fight commenced. Those guys can wing some mints. This morning as I was vacuuming, I found mints in places that mints, I'm certain, have never been in this apartment before. But I can say, with relative certainty, that they may, indeed, find their way there in the future....because this is Peter's house...and mints are weapons...or at the very least, toys of choice.

BYU DANCERS INVADE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA! LIFT SPIRITS! LEAVE US LAUGHING!

Last night, the hubs and I were the excited and grateful recipients of FOUR tickets to the BYU Ballroom Dancers. They are world class, competitive dancers who have been the USA champs every year since 1982. They've performed in 34 countries with two command performances in two different countries. They put on a 90 minute show that was spectacular. We took our 5-year-old grand-daughter Mae and her great-grandmother Connie. The dancers are currently touring through southern and mid coast California. We were so blessed to get tickets. We have seen the flyer for the dancers and we wanted to go so badly, but we just didn't think it was going to be a possibility. Then Emmy called and asked if we would like to go and take Mae and then Connie and we were ECSTATIC!!!

The show was everything it promised to be. The costumes, the music, the beautiful young people dancing. All of it was incredible. The most joyous part of the evening was sitting to Mae and watching her. It was her first experience with anything of this magnitude so I was especially privileged to watch her reaction to all of this....and we were in the SECOND ROW, so she was truly up close and personal with all of it.

Those dancers move like fluid-when they leap, your heart leaps with them. They floated out on stage with their feathers and chiffon and the men would pick up the women like they were nothing but sequined air. I turned and looked at Mae and she was sitting there, with her eyes as big as I've ever seen them. My heart was bursting!!! After the first dance and the stage darkened, Mae turned to me and asked, "Is it over?" and I said, "Honey, this is just beginning" and she sat back totally entranced. Halfway through the show she finally asked me, "Is this 'Dancing With the Stars'?". No...not at all...

What was touching was that as we pulled out of the driveway, her mom was telling her, "Watch these dancers Mae. They're modest. You can do this when you're older. They're always appropriate." It warmed my heart. Mae dresses so modestly-even at her tender age, she is cognizant of her appearance.

It was just a great night. Connie and I enjoyed each other's company so much. She is a great lady, beloved by all in the stake. Mae was in heaven and Peter adored it. He truly had a blast. After the show, he scooped up Mae and made sure that she got to meet the dancers-about twelve of them in their beautiful make up and costumes. They came down from the stage and mingled with everyone and thanked them for coming. They even walked us to the door of the lobby and continued to thank us. Great kids! Great show! Great night!

THE GIRL WHO SILENCED THE WORLD FOR FIVE MINUTES...

I'M A "SUNSHINE SISTER"....SISTER!

While I was at Church on Sunday, one of the women invited me to a luncheon for the "Sunshine Sisters" club. I was quite flattered, though I didn't know what a "Sunshine Sister" was. It sounded cute and fun so I said, "Oh sure, thanks very much". A few minutes later, Peter found me and I said, rather proudly, "Hey Honey! I'm going to the Sunshine Sister's club tomorrow afternoon! I was INVITED". Peter asked what a Sunshine Sisters club was. I said I didn't know, so I turned to the sister next to me and this is what happened....

ME: (very excited and animated) Hey! What exactly is the club I just agreed to meet up with? *big eyes-wide open and open-mouth smile*

SISTER: non-smiling, non-animated: "It's for women over 50".

ME: OH! So....it's pretty exclusive, eh?...HAHAHAHAHAHAH

SISTER: ----

ME: *turning back to Peter* It's for really awesome women with something to contribute to the Relief Society. Not everyone can get in. There's a waiting list. But once you ARE in, you're in for life. Whew!

PETER: So you have to be over 50.

Whatever....

sidenote: I went to the luncheon today and when I walked in, I did not know one single person. Not one. But there was an adorable little lady with a long, thick ponytail down her back in what looked like an old jogging suit. She ran up to me and said, (and I am NOT making this up), "Oh good, you wore old, beat up shoes too, like ME! That makes me feel better about wearing these!"

I looked down and she had what looked like old running shoes on. I just smiled and gave a thumbs up, patted her back, and smiled way big. I do love my sisters!!!

Second sidenote: I was wearing my "antique lace" socks and my brown ankle boots that lace up. It's a cute look...or at least I thought it was....hmmmmmmm

MY HOUSE....AS RECREATIONAL DRUG....BUT NOT REALLY....

The hubs and the boy are putting up a big picture mirror on the wall next to the fireplace. It's a big mirror in an ornate gold frame. It's Abbott and Costello at work. There's a bit of bickering, the mirror is swinging to and fro. Here are some random quotes:

Dad: This thing is slipping, you're not holding it well enough.

Eli: I've found my hole, you worry about yours.

Dad: DEB! You need to judge how level this is.

Eli: Stop being so grouchy.

Dad: Stop being so lazy.

Dad: DEB!

Dad: Lift it up so your point is on the point.

Eli: ?

At this point, it occurred to me that perhaps we're overthinking the "level-ity" of the whole picture/mirror thing. Does anyone ever walk into another person's house and judge how level their items are that are on the walls? Unless it's a prelude to a haunted house ordeal, typically those things are not noticeable, am I right? I'm not willing to put any more thought into than is required.

So...while the men are hanging the mirror, the beautiful gold, ornate mirror, I'm just going to let them get it as relatively level as I can discern it to be and just....let it go.....

If you walk into my house and get a little woozy, it's not the candles burning, it's not the flu, it's not a fever, it's probably the ever-so-slight off-ness of my mirrors and pictures. It's not obvious, just enough to mess with your other-than-conscious ability to balance. Consider me your recreational drug of choice...AND I'm legal. You're welcome!!!

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS IN SOCAL ON 10/8/09

Today I saw a lone motorcyclist zooming down the carpool lane on the 215-South. Wow. What a bold initiative. Or crazy one. There could be, really, just two explanations. He was simply and boldly making his way through the crowd in the least used, least crowded and therefore easiest to speed in lane-cops be darned. OR. He was new to the area and didn't realize that it WAS a carpool lane and he would soon be caught AND be almost $300.00 poorer. Either way, it was quite entertaining. I'm pleased that it didn't bug me and that I found it, frankly, refreshing. Go lone motorcyclist, go!

I read an article on the prevalence of daydreaming and how important it is to mental health. However, I didn't quite agree on what the authors/researchers considered daydreaming. Anything that has the word "dreaming" in it connotes symbolism/escapism/fantasy, etc. What these people considered daydreaming was putting together a dinner menu while changing your baby's diaper at noon. Wha???? I think that's too practical for daydreaming. So basically, what they're considering daydreaming is anything that is not-of-the-moment concentration. These people are not fun. No wonder they marvel at daydreaming. Yeesh....they must be ever-present, ever-vigilant, ever mindful. Hey, I'm all for mindfulness in the transcendent, meditative practice, but puhleese..... I suppose we absolutely need people like that...I would want those types of people to fly the airplanes I'm in or to perform my surgeries, but I wouldn't hang out at the mall with them....no thanks...but keep staying on point, my focused friends...you rock.....

The buses in my relatively new, clean, little city are equipped with satellite television and WIFI. Really. So, all those weeks when I didn't have the internet, I could have ridden a bus around town, learned my way around, used my computer, and caught up on all my shows. Basically, it's a living-room on wheels. Nice.

As I was driving home this afternoon, I heard a cute little "honk" from the car next to me. I looked over and there, in the back seat of the car next to me was a cute little 2-year-old boy named Clarkie. I said to him what I always say to him when we run into each other around town, "Hi Clarkie, it's Moo Moo, I am EVERYWHERE!!!" Then we blew kisses at each other and I pulled into my apartment complex. What a treat!

My step-son Eli will be 18 on Friday. He's out with a friend from Church tonight. His dad called him and checked up on him. After he hung up I asked his Dad, "Are you going to do that to him when he's 18?" His Dad replied, "I'm going to do it to him when he's 40!" Fair enough.

I had to go to the doctor's office today. It was a new doctor. The medical assistant took my blood pressure. The cup was barely tight around my arm so I knew it wasn't going to be accurate. She said, "120 over 80. That's perfect". What she meant is that it's perfectly generic. She didn't really take my blood pressure. So I said, "Hmmmm, that's pretty high for me. My blood pressure typically runs 90 over 60." She said, "Really? Well, people's pressures run high when they go to the doctor." I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, "Hmmmm, well! The doctor's office is the ONLY PLACE THAT I GET MY PRESSURE TAKEN"....but I didn't....cause I'm nice...

And tomorrow is another day...ain't it grand?

TEETH COMING AND TEETH GOING-ONE BIG PARTY...OR NOT....

Mae lost a third tooth. It's on the bottom, just left of center. She said that there's a big wall chart in her class room where they get to list their names (and teeth) when they lose a tooth. Wow. That is really big news there. I'm approaching the age when my peers are also beginning to lose teeth. The same teeth that pushed out those adorable baby teeth while we were in kindergarten are now trying their darndest to say their goodbyes. We're trying hard to keep that from happening, but sometimes circumstances dictate that they make an exit. Sometimes it's a partial exit. Sometimes only part of the tooth leaves and we hide it behind a "cap", but it's still mostly gone. It's like a house that blew away in a tornado and the only thing left behind is the basement and maybe part of the chimney. Obviously there used to be a house there but...eh......

So I guess I have a chart for that very same thing only it's not on a wall and I don't get a party for it. I keep that chart at a dentist office, in a drawer, and I pay money every time it comes out. And there is definitely no party...

A TRULY "FORMAL" APOLOGY

I follow a very funny fellow named David Thorne on Twitter. He also has a blog. Here's the address: http://www.27bslash6.com. He's hysterical. He developed a "formal" apology jpeg that you can copy and print off and use it on an "as needed" basis. I'm going to follow his advice and keep hundreds on hand. Here it is:
I hope you can see it. If you can't, it's worth getting a magnifying glass for. It has "fill-in-the-blank" for reasons, rationalizations, etc.; it has check offs for "I feel" with a list of various emotions; it has "Please" followed by a list of items the "penitent" can check off such "please forgive me", "give me another chance" or "do not call the police". It just covers all the bases.

Well, there you go. And you know what? You're welcome. And ummm... please forgive me. :)

A NAZI, A BIKE AND A HUSBAND WALKED INTO MY SELF-ESTEEM....

My physical therapist, the nazi, told me I have to start riding my bike. I told her I don't have a stationary bike, I only have the old fashioned kind, the kind that actually move forward as you pedal. I told her I could start walking every day. But she said, "No, I don't trust you to walk because your body will compensate for your atrophied tendons and you will favor your bad leg SO! I want you to ride your bike." Really? I have to ride a bike, huh?

I explained this to Peter. I said, "Honey, can you take the bike off of the balcony so I can ride it?"

Peter: Why?

Me: I have to do it for physical therapy. You know, my leg thingy.

Peter: Just walk.

Me: The nazi said I have to ride my bike.

Peter: Walking will work fine.

Me: No really! She said walking WON'T work and I have to ride the bike. I HAVE to! Can you just take it downstairs for me or would you rather I just do it? Cause if you're busy....

Peter: Don't lay a finger on that bike Deborah. I'll do it. Just tell me exactly what she said about the bike. Are you sure she said those words? Are you sure you're just not being overly-enthusiastic?

At this point I was just...annoyed. My impulse was to say, "That's right, honey. I WISH to ride my bike onto the really busy streets we live between in a neighborhood that I'm not entirely familiar with with a leg that doesn't exactly work. That's my DESIRE. That's what I really want. Could you enable that for me? Because that sounds like a fun afternoon."

Well, it's been several days and guess where my bike is?....yea....right up here on my balcony. I have an appointment tomorrow at 4:00 PM with the therapist and she's going to ask, "Did you ride your bike like we discussed?...like you said you would?...which is as good as giving your word!....which will stand as a witness against you on JUDGMENT DAY!....and I will say...

"huh,uh."

So, after pondering why my bike is still on the balcony, it comes down to 2 reasons WHY he hasn't taken it down there yet....

Reason 1: The idea that I wish to participate in something overtly athletic is so far out of the realm of possibility that Peter simply refuses to take it seriously or....

Reasons 2: He loves me so much and realizes how klutzy I am that he refuses to put me in harm's way by enabling that type of behavior by putting the bike downstairs where I could hurt myself.

He'll be home in a few minutes....I'll let him read this post and answer me for himself....but he's a wise man...any guesses on the answer?....

Yea, that was my guess too. The bike will be on the sidewalk by morning.

FUNNY MOMS ARE BETTER THAN ANGELS....

My mom has been really funny lately. I can't really explain it, but she has been delightful. She's 89 years young. She'll be 90 in January. She lives in her own home, has a great social life, and gets along mighty well, thank you very much. Sure, she's elderly, but heck, so am I these days....

Anyway, the last several days when I've phoned her, she has just cracked me up. It's totally unexplainable, but I'll accept it as the gift it is...she told my sister yesterday, "Hey! I'm funnier than Debbie!" Nice... :)

Yesterday she gave me a blow-by-blow account about chasing Cheerios around her cereal bowl. It was the most detailed account of a cereal encounter I'd ever heard. I'll give you the highlights because they're stuck in my memory forever:

"Debbie, have you ever eaten Cheerios?"

"Well Mom, in 53 years, I'm pretty certain a bowl has sneaked into my experience at some point."

"Have you noticed how hard it is to get the last few remaining Cheerios out of the milk and onto your spoon? They're awful. They just float and dodge and slip off. You can chase them around all morning and still not get 'em. You can try mashin' 'em against the back of the spoon but even that's not enough sometimes. And then, THEN, I found one on the carpet right next to my foot and thought to myself 'how the hell did THAT happen' I couldn't even get it onto the spoon but that one managed to jump out of the bowl and land on the carpet? I was so mad at that Cheerio, I slammed the bottom of my cane down on top of it and said, 'heck if YOU go anywhere else!"

At this point I was laughing so hard and I said to Mom, "Hahaha, oh mom, we're like Abbot and Costello and she said, "Are you calling me fat?" I stuttered out my answer but then she broke into louder laughter at my discomfort and then we both were laughing at each other. It's been like this all week. An absolute gift.

I love you Mom.

"WRITE DOWN YOUR AGE AND USE THAT MANY WORDS TO SUM UP YOUR LIFE SO FAR"

I borrowed this from a website called Soul Pancake...you can look it up if you wish.

Write down your age. Use that many words to sum up your life so far.

53 years..yikers! This is definitely where age comes in handy. Good luck with this one 20-somethings. :) Here goes....

There’s been a lot of love and lessons under this bridge. I found truth and faith, which is still growing.

I believe that love is always multiplied and never divided.

Still rocking (chair-wise), always and forever.

I’m happy to be where I am, but looking forward to what’s ahead and beyond. Amen.

PHYSICAL THERAPY, DAY ONE-JUST KILL ME NOW

Today I started physical therapy (PT) for my right leg. On September 21st, I underwent right knee arthroscopic surgery. The surgeon cleaned out some cartilage from under my knee cap and "removed some arthritis". I didn't even know arthritis could be removed. So now I am undergoing PT.

I arrived at my appointment relatively excited. I just want my right leg back. I want it to be straight. I want it to work. I want to be able to walk without intimidation. I want to be able to run. You know, the usual. What anyone would want out of a perfectly good limb. I figure I'm a little more than halfway through this mortal journey, but I still need full function of all my body parts. I'm not ready for the old person warehouse yet. When that time comes, I'll need a good rocking chair, several good books, my IPod, plenty of other friends in rockers and we'll need a toady so we can scheme...someone on the "outside"....yea, I've got plans....heh heh....but I digress....

I met my physical therapist...I think her name was Jeanette...maybe it was Satan, I can't remember. I walked in being all friendly and smiling-which is how I am! I have no reason to be any other way. Her countenance was very serious, almost like she was disturbed that I was there. It was very strange. Wow, if you don't like your job, change careers or something. I answered all of her questions as thoroughly as possible and pleasantly as well. She kept returning to the issue of how long I'd been out of work, which had virtually NOTHING to do with the condition of soft tissue OR knee joint. Did I mention that she stopped looking at me while she was talking to me and just kept flipping through pages quite loudly and looking down while throwing questions at me? Her non-verbals were screeching at me. After about 5 minutes of this, she had finally hit my edge.

I thought to myself, "Obviously, being nice to this lady isn't working. Something else is at play here. If sternness or attitude is what resonates with her, then I'll speak her language cause apparently she's kicking this up to militant-level 5, which I can do if she insists".

So.....after another question implying that I'm not working because I'm lazy or working the system or fill-in-the-blank, I remained silent. This caused her to look up and engage me. When she did, I was staring at her. My arms were crossed and I was leaning forward. My chin was down and I was addressing while looking at her from the tops of my eyes. I was not smiling. I finally answered with no inflection in my voice. I didn't say anything mean and I didn't say one word extra. My answers were "yes" or "no" and if it required more than that, it was as minimal and unsmiling as it could possibly be.

After that, it was a complete turn-around. We kind of understood each other. She explained to me about the mechanics of my own body, which were fascinating. She explained how my body had compensated for the weakness of my leg for almost a year and my tendons had virtually atrophied. She was amazing. She told me things about myself that were fascinating that I had no idea of. I asked questions, I worked hard, and I think she sensed this. She gave me lots of good advice and sent me home with great exercises for me to do. I'm going back three times next week.

My question is: Why is it that some people just kind of take you to that place? Why do some people not respond to overt kindness? I would have rather just had a nice, polite conversation with this lady, but I was prepared to go to her level, if that's what it required. If I had NOT felt judged and we would have kept everything about my knee, none of this would have happened. But how many people have been intimated by her and couldn't adjust to her? It's odd to me, and yet intriguing. I considered the fact that I may have projected my own insecurities upon the situation, but again, that hasn't been the case in any of this up to this point. This facilities works with cases like mine all the time. I had no reason to expect any difficulties. Also, again, as it was happening, I studies her nonverbals, which corroborated what she was saying (so she must have subjectively felt that way). Any thoughts?