I just woke from a big, fat nap. It's a beautiful day here in northern Ohio. Suzanne and I took her daughters, Maya and Alyssa to a picnic lunch with some friends of theirs. By the end of the lunch and playtime at the park, Maya was in tears after a misunderstanding with her little friend. Poor Maya sniffled all the way home, and Suzanne and her friend deduced that the two girls were simply grumpy and had a bad day. The next time would be fine, they were sure of it.
After Suzanne's girls were in bed for a nap, Suzanne told me that Maya's friend tried to call Maya on the cell phone. To apologize, perhaps? We weren't sure, but it did get me thinking about how I was taught to be with my friends growing-up.
I don't remember tiffs at a young age though I know they happened (If I could find Eric Peterson on Facebook I would like to apologize for knocking him down and rolling him a few times in third grade, though). I remember an incident in high school when I friend came flying into my house where I was hanging out with friends, yelled at me for not including her (I'd forgotten to call) and burst out of the house. Before she left I did apologize to her, but it didn't diffuse.
Much to my annoyance, my Mom had me call her the next to to "see if she was OK". I was pissed to have to do this after I'd been verbally assaulted in my own house. And she didn't apologize for the outburst in the end anyway. However, I have always remembered that lesson, because I learned that if you put effort in, you can never say that you didn't at least try.
To this day, when I have had tiffs with friends (or boyfriends, for that matter), I have always done my best to not fling mud. In fact, one of the instances was with the friend mentioned a few entries below this one. When our friendship unraveled, she would call me over and over, subtly instigating me. Finally, I realized that she wanted me to be pissed off at her and show it. She wanted me to fling mud. That it would actually help her feel better if in her mind she could call me a bitch. I know I can be a bitch, but in this instance, it wasn't in me to be one.
I am very aware of the importance for me personally to handle stuff like that with as much decorum as possible. I hate that word because I think it sounds snotty (perhaps I am, I guess), but I think it applies.
I'm sure there have been plenty of times when I have not thought my thoughts through and blurted out something that hurt someone. I hope they told me if I did and I hope they received an apology from me.
This non-mud-flinging way is important to me on two levels; at the end of my life, I want to know that treated others the best way I could. And, I never want to say something thoughtless to someone and leave them or myself haunted by it for the rest of time. Regret is not something I want anything to do with.
Friday, April 30, 2010
From a Few Days Ago
Talking with Kelly about life, "I think I need to work more on..." I stop because I've lost my train of thought.
After a moment, Kelly says, "Don't call me a moron"
After a moment, Kelly says, "Don't call me a moron"
Thursday, April 29, 2010
A Few From Today
It was fun to see Joe at the Cleveland Clinic today. "You look so grown-up and smart!" I told him. He was wearing his white lab coat. Joe is now a child psychiatrist and I knew him way back when in college. It's a very surreal thing when you see someone you've known since you were 19 filling such big shoes. It's like we're adults or something. Well, at least Suzanne and Joe are.
After poor little Alyssa got her blood drawn for the allergy testing, Suzanne and I brought her back home and we enjoyed some conversation about life, love, happiness, relationships, and some of my recent realizations which have included that A) all couples, even if they have been together for years, are still trying to figure out their relationship, and B) no one, single or otherwise, has it (life and how to be happy in it) figured out. Appreciated conversation.
We all took a walk together after dinner, wandering their friendly neighborhood and making a stop at a nearby playground, "You're getting a good taste of American, apple pie suburban life!" Joe said, " Tomorrow will be spicier, I promise." I told him I didn't need spicy, but apparently, he meant literally - were going for Mexican tomorrow night.
Alyssa watched some "Ellen"
Maya swings.
After poor little Alyssa got her blood drawn for the allergy testing, Suzanne and I brought her back home and we enjoyed some conversation about life, love, happiness, relationships, and some of my recent realizations which have included that A) all couples, even if they have been together for years, are still trying to figure out their relationship, and B) no one, single or otherwise, has it (life and how to be happy in it) figured out. Appreciated conversation.
We all took a walk together after dinner, wandering their friendly neighborhood and making a stop at a nearby playground, "You're getting a good taste of American, apple pie suburban life!" Joe said, " Tomorrow will be spicier, I promise." I told him I didn't need spicy, but apparently, he meant literally - were going for Mexican tomorrow night.
Alyssa watched some "Ellen"
Maya swings.You Get What You Give
This morning I was a the Cleveland Clinic people-watching in their vast window lit lobby while Suzanne and Joe, who works at the CC, took their littlest to the allergist.
As an employee of the Clinic headed out the door, a fellow employee fixed the tag hanging out of the back of her shirt. The two exchanged some friendly words and he made her laugh.
I wish I was one of those types who could brighten someones day with a simple interaction. It's not that I feel I am perpetually grouchy, and it's true that I am out of practice and opportunity after a long time away from interacting with strangers for a living, but I do believe in the importance of sending good vibes out into the world. I just don't think I'm very good at it.
Which gets me thinking about the idea of "you get what you give". I feel like I have a lot to give. I have a lot I want to give, but life has not brought the chance for me to give for good. For always. I'd like that. But perhaps that's my doing? Whatever. That's a blog entry for another day.
Branching off that - I think some people do give off something into the world that results in doors being opened for them. I knew someone years ago who once sat on her front step, determined that something good would happen that day. Some neighbor (I don't remember the details), asked her to stay in his huge home for the summer collecting his mail while he was gone the whole time. And to make the story more serendipitous, she was in need of a place to stay.
Maybe to be that way - have tons of things happen to you, you have to be over-the-top like she was. All the time. She fell-in love with someone new every three weeks. I did have some envy in that, but I also recognize it's just not who I am. She married a foreigner in return for rent payment so he could get his green card (and she actually held a wedding reception!). She attempted to "save" her sister by traveling to her middle eastern country and bringing her an American to marry and bring her back. The sister refused to be saved and she fell in-love with the husband she'd gotten for said sister. Well, fell in-love for a little while.
She attempted to be a chocolatier, a master of yoga. She talked about running a B&B. In Italy. There was more (although I think I could have stopped at marrying for the green card), that made her fascinating and completely exhausting.
I remember her withholding personal information which would prevent her from being chosen for a jury in a local trial. Not only did she fib to get on the jury but she then volunteered to be foreman in the case she should have had nothing to do with considering her past traumas. I had little sympathy for her when the experience "wrecked" her.
Lots of things happened to her, good and bad, because she chose the paths which would result in the best story. She would jump into things and perhaps "suck the marrow out of life" (in my opinion, in this instance, she was actually "biting off more than she could chew").
I've never been one to think doors would just open for me. I always thought I would work hard and open the doors I was meant to go through (which then leads me to wonder what's "meant" for me and why am I chained to the idea of it?). I wonder if I can learn, or make a conscious effort to send out good vibes that would help open doors I wouldn't normally consider going through?
And now my head hurts.
As an employee of the Clinic headed out the door, a fellow employee fixed the tag hanging out of the back of her shirt. The two exchanged some friendly words and he made her laugh.
I wish I was one of those types who could brighten someones day with a simple interaction. It's not that I feel I am perpetually grouchy, and it's true that I am out of practice and opportunity after a long time away from interacting with strangers for a living, but I do believe in the importance of sending good vibes out into the world. I just don't think I'm very good at it.
Which gets me thinking about the idea of "you get what you give". I feel like I have a lot to give. I have a lot I want to give, but life has not brought the chance for me to give for good. For always. I'd like that. But perhaps that's my doing? Whatever. That's a blog entry for another day.
Branching off that - I think some people do give off something into the world that results in doors being opened for them. I knew someone years ago who once sat on her front step, determined that something good would happen that day. Some neighbor (I don't remember the details), asked her to stay in his huge home for the summer collecting his mail while he was gone the whole time. And to make the story more serendipitous, she was in need of a place to stay.
Maybe to be that way - have tons of things happen to you, you have to be over-the-top like she was. All the time. She fell-in love with someone new every three weeks. I did have some envy in that, but I also recognize it's just not who I am. She married a foreigner in return for rent payment so he could get his green card (and she actually held a wedding reception!). She attempted to "save" her sister by traveling to her middle eastern country and bringing her an American to marry and bring her back. The sister refused to be saved and she fell in-love with the husband she'd gotten for said sister. Well, fell in-love for a little while.
She attempted to be a chocolatier, a master of yoga. She talked about running a B&B. In Italy. There was more (although I think I could have stopped at marrying for the green card), that made her fascinating and completely exhausting.
I remember her withholding personal information which would prevent her from being chosen for a jury in a local trial. Not only did she fib to get on the jury but she then volunteered to be foreman in the case she should have had nothing to do with considering her past traumas. I had little sympathy for her when the experience "wrecked" her.
Lots of things happened to her, good and bad, because she chose the paths which would result in the best story. She would jump into things and perhaps "suck the marrow out of life" (in my opinion, in this instance, she was actually "biting off more than she could chew").
I've never been one to think doors would just open for me. I always thought I would work hard and open the doors I was meant to go through (which then leads me to wonder what's "meant" for me and why am I chained to the idea of it?). I wonder if I can learn, or make a conscious effort to send out good vibes that would help open doors I wouldn't normally consider going through?
And now my head hurts.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Day Two
Another lovely day. It's a bit chilly, but still, I had a nice time with Kelly, Everett and Wesley this morning before leaving on the next leg of my trip to Ohio. Such good people and although my thoughts are still following me, it is a relief to get a change of scenery. They showed me around their home, their garden, and the cows just next door at the dairy farm.
Little climber
I left Tully around one this afternoon after a quick game of "Guess Who?". The drive from New York to Ohio was long. Six hours, which was the same distance I drove yesterday (seriously, it was just yesterday?), but the last two hours dragged. And my shoulder is bothering me, (likely not helped by sitting still for so long). Hopefully not for long - I will return to MA in time to have the metal taken out a few days later. Actually, this trip was supposed to happen later in the month of May, but my poor surgeon's mom died and my surgery was moved. So, I am a bit achy and sore until then and my friends got their house guest sooner than they planned.
Driving into Cleveland was cool after so many years since my internship at The PD. Familiar street names and that funky part of the highway where you very suddenly have to drive about 40 MPH because the road turns at a ninety degree angle.
And now I am with my good college friends, Suzanne and Joe, who I lived with junior year and who are now married with two little girls. More quality time with old friends to follow!
Little climber
I left Tully around one this afternoon after a quick game of "Guess Who?". The drive from New York to Ohio was long. Six hours, which was the same distance I drove yesterday (seriously, it was just yesterday?), but the last two hours dragged. And my shoulder is bothering me, (likely not helped by sitting still for so long). Hopefully not for long - I will return to MA in time to have the metal taken out a few days later. Actually, this trip was supposed to happen later in the month of May, but my poor surgeon's mom died and my surgery was moved. So, I am a bit achy and sore until then and my friends got their house guest sooner than they planned.
Driving into Cleveland was cool after so many years since my internship at The PD. Familiar street names and that funky part of the highway where you very suddenly have to drive about 40 MPH because the road turns at a ninety degree angle.
And now I am with my good college friends, Suzanne and Joe, who I lived with junior year and who are now married with two little girls. More quality time with old friends to follow!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Time Capsule
First day of my road trip. Doing my best to get away and feel lighter. It has been far too long since I've taken a trip (aside from my lovely one to Atlanta a little while back). I haven't taken a road trip since my drive from Florida back p to MA nearly two years ago.
First stop, upstate New York to see my old friend Kelly, her husband Bryan and to meet their two young sons. The ironic drive included rain, wind, sun, rain, sun, and even snow. I was told recently that when you experience loss all of your past losses come back to you. I don't really care for that theory (why would anyone want that? Dealing with new stuff is enough without the old stuff dredging-up), but it proved to be the case while I listened to some Indigo Girls.
It has been many years since I've listened to them. I was taken aback by my visceral reaction to their music, but I just let it go and it was good. Song after song brought me back to a different time in my life. Music can be like a time capsule that way. A time capsule from thirteen years ago. They are poets, for sure, and as I listened and remembered the lyrics they had new meaning to me too.
Closer to Fine, for example, is interesting to me because few things made me "take my life less seriously" back then...
Power of Two was interesting to listen to again. We used to sing that one at the top of our lungs. The lyrics are still fantastic. I think.
And the lyrics of Thin Line, which were stuck in my head when I was hospitalized for my diagnosis my junior year, I always thought strange (that just these lines were stuck in my head)...
And now I am hanging with good friends and am in love with their two sons, Wesley and Everett. (I wonder if they will notice them missing if I put them in my car tomorrow?)
First stop, upstate New York to see my old friend Kelly, her husband Bryan and to meet their two young sons. The ironic drive included rain, wind, sun, rain, sun, and even snow. I was told recently that when you experience loss all of your past losses come back to you. I don't really care for that theory (why would anyone want that? Dealing with new stuff is enough without the old stuff dredging-up), but it proved to be the case while I listened to some Indigo Girls.
It has been many years since I've listened to them. I was taken aback by my visceral reaction to their music, but I just let it go and it was good. Song after song brought me back to a different time in my life. Music can be like a time capsule that way. A time capsule from thirteen years ago. They are poets, for sure, and as I listened and remembered the lyrics they had new meaning to me too.
Closer to Fine, for example, is interesting to me because few things made me "take my life less seriously" back then...
I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore.
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I'm crawling on your shore.
Power of Two was interesting to listen to again. We used to sing that one at the top of our lungs. The lyrics are still fantastic. I think.
And the lyrics of Thin Line, which were stuck in my head when I was hospitalized for my diagnosis my junior year, I always thought strange (that just these lines were stuck in my head)...
now i'm tryin to get back
to what i know that i should be
hoping to God that i was just
a temporary absentee
And now I am hanging with good friends and am in love with their two sons, Wesley and Everett. (I wonder if they will notice them missing if I put them in my car tomorrow?)
Monday, April 26, 2010
Buzz Cut
After months of enduring massive shedding throughout our home, I decided to buzz cut Oliver last night. It was crazy! I gave him a bath and combed him out beforehand and chunks of fur came off him! His undercoat releasing, no doubt. So, here are the make-over results. I always think the poor little dude looks a bit stupid after I cut him, kind of mangy. But, then I get used to it and love it.
I think Oliver was most uncomfortable with my trimming his tail. Now he has a slightly squirrel-ish tail. I think he's a bit embarrassed by it's inability to properly express his excitement for things.
I think Oliver was most uncomfortable with my trimming his tail. Now he has a slightly squirrel-ish tail. I think he's a bit embarrassed by it's inability to properly express his excitement for things.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Pains in the Ass
Mom - "They were being pain in the asses"
Me - "I think you mean 'pains in the ass'........because you have one ass but many pains, not many asses and one pain, so it's 'pains in the ass.'"
Mom- "Whatever."
Me - "I think you mean 'pains in the ass'........because you have one ass but many pains, not many asses and one pain, so it's 'pains in the ass.'"
Mom- "Whatever."
Thursday, April 22, 2010
The Core
I have been here before. Sort of. Years ago. Knowing a close friend had developed a cocaine addiction was more than I could handle. I knew he would start lying to me. He would start doing it when I was around or sneaking off to do it and then try to act like he wasn't high. I knew I would worry about him at all times and I would no longer trust him. I knew that I could not emotionally handle watching him snort away his life and tell me “It's just a phase”. So, I walked away before his “phase” did me in. The experience, along with life at the time in general, sent me into a depression that I have never experienced before and have not experienced since thanks to a little bit of help.
This time is different. Partly because I have “a little bit of help”, but also because there is no cocaine. There are however, very difficult, unfair problems. And this time it wasn't just a friend. “It's not who you are,” my Mom told me today, “You stick around when the going gets tough.” We were talking about my sadness in having to walk away this time, too. How much it pains me to not be there for someone who saw me as a confidante, a friend, and a love.
What does it say about me as a person that I had to walk away? That I can not handle it when someone I care about is dealing with their problems in a way that I would not? Am I sheltered? Weak? Do I lack compassion or understanding? I know people are human. I have learned that I am a fragile one despite my trucker mouth and sometimes-too-honest way of talking to people. I struggle with being simultaneously clingy and in desperate need of space, and a bit of a control freak with a tendency towards depression. I pendulum back and forth between being a “just get your shit together” type and having concern and compassion to the point of paralysis. When I care about someone, especially if they have shown me unconditional love as he did, the exterior protection falls off me like useless rusted armor and everything hurts ten-fold.
When I was told I was diabetic, I was taught how to manage it. You take shots, this many, this number of times a day. And now, I'm on the pump. When I found out something was wrong with me, something life-threatening, I learned how to be as healthy as possible and then I just did it. There was no other choice. I do not want to die, do not want to go blind or lose some of my toes or treat myself so poorly that I will never be able to bear children (if I ever fucking get around to attempting it, that is). I did not want to leave the people who love me by being reckless with my condition.
I wish it were that way for anyone who had a health issue. But it's simply not. For me, it was figure out what you need to do and just do it, but some scenarios are more complicated than that. He thought that what I saw was an ugly person with an ugly core. I wish that were the case, because then it would not hurt so much to not have him in my life anymore. In truth, what I saw was a beautiful person with an ugly problem to deal with.
Now that he's not here to remind me, I have to try to remind myself that although I feel I have let down someone very important to me, I too am human.
Pre-Op Anesthesiology
I went to Mass Gen hospital today. I feel very sad and wasn't sure I could keep my shit together for the two hours that was required to get everything done. Lab work, questionnaires, etc. My surgery was supposed to happen tomorrow, but has been moved to Monday.
Loneliness is a shit emotion. A cruel one, too, because you can feel it even when surrounded by loved ones.
I sat there in that little room, answering questions, holding it all in. Trying to keep my feelings from brimming over, embarrassing me and making others uncomfortable.
"Do you drink alcohol?"
"No," I answered.
"Do you smoke?"
"No," I answered.
"Feel light headed or dizzy?"
"No," I answered.
"Experiencing any shortness of breath?"
"No," I answered.
"Feeling any pain in your heart?"
"No," I lied.
Loneliness is a shit emotion. A cruel one, too, because you can feel it even when surrounded by loved ones.
I sat there in that little room, answering questions, holding it all in. Trying to keep my feelings from brimming over, embarrassing me and making others uncomfortable.
"Do you drink alcohol?"
"No," I answered.
"Do you smoke?"
"No," I answered.
"Feel light headed or dizzy?"
"No," I answered.
"Experiencing any shortness of breath?"
"No," I answered.
"Feeling any pain in your heart?"
"No," I lied.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Southwick's Zoo
Yesterday was a beautiful day. My heart was heavy but the weather was light, and I had a nice time with my friends at the Southwick's Zoo!
Jenn, Lilly, Gus and Owen head in!
Lilly shows her wild side!
Peacock and his proud feathers.
Maureen thinks she looks "insane" here, but I think she's just insanely in-love with her daughter Amelia.
Gus!
Jenn, Lilly, Gus and Owen head in!
Lilly shows her wild side!
Peacock and his proud feathers.
Maureen thinks she looks "insane" here, but I think she's just insanely in-love with her daughter Amelia.
Gus!Friday, April 16, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Straight No Chaser
These guys are great. Amanda and I went to see them tonight when she got some tickets for free! Great concert. Here's one of the songs they did. 'Love how it changes at about one minute mark.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Wishbone
I got lots of lovely things for my birthday today. This was one of my favorites. From my brother and sister-in-law, from my Amazon wish list!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Witnesses say Shaver wasn't provoked before shooting man
It's rude to tell someone to shut but but I think maybe shooting them in the face is a bit more rude.
Witnesses say Shaver wasn't provoked before shooting man
Posted using ShareThis
Witnesses say Shaver wasn't provoked before shooting man
Posted using ShareThis
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Howard Thurman
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
-Howard ThurmanBikers
Conversation between two Harley riders yelling over the sound of their engines at a stop light, "Well, I quit smoking for my kids because I wanna be around for them!"
"Yeah, I haven't stopped because I figure I can walk outside and drop dead on my stoop, y'know? I could die any time!"
"Yeah, but that's not really the point!"
"Yeah, I haven't stopped because I figure I can walk outside and drop dead on my stoop, y'know? I could die any time!"
"Yeah, but that's not really the point!"
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Documentarian
I am reading a book called The Mistress's Daughter. At this point, the subject of the book is making her way through boxes of papers left behind by her dead birth mother. Although she has had the boxes for years, she is just now looking through them. She's afraid to but also, she had gotten to know her birth mother a bit in the years before she died and she was a scary manipulative woman, basically.
She is looking to learn something about her birth mother. Something beyond the woman she met.
It makes me think of my journals and who might read them someday. It will have to be long after I'm gone cause really, that would be embarrassing. (It's embarrassing enough that I'm narcissistic enough to wonder about this) I do not have a child I gave up for adoption so whoever would read about me might already know who I am. Or at least they'd know of me, I would think. I wonder how my journals might present me. I wonder if they are accurate to who I am. Or, do my emotions or life experiences lead me to edit and as a result only a fraction of me comes through?
My sister-in-law told me that I am documentarian from every angle. I write a journal about personal stuff, I write a blog about less personal stuff, and I photograph everything left.
The daughter in the book also wonders what kind of teen her mother was - one who dressed like and adult or one who wore poodle skirts?
Last night I was watching Taking Woodstock with my parents. At one point, a bunch of hippies started dancing around naked on the lawn of a motel to greet some lawyers and organizers looking to set-up shop for Woodstock. The short stout elderly woman who runs the hotel yells at them, running at them with a broom, "Cover up your bits! We've got company!"
It was funny, but I digress. 'Ever wonder what you'd be like born in a different era? I'd like to think that if were Alice Paul's age ("Iron Jawed Angels" is a must watch) that I'd join the forces and be a suffragette. In the 1960s, would I be a hippie or an activist?
Or would I be neither? Just a photographer documenting it all?
She is looking to learn something about her birth mother. Something beyond the woman she met.
It makes me think of my journals and who might read them someday. It will have to be long after I'm gone cause really, that would be embarrassing. (It's embarrassing enough that I'm narcissistic enough to wonder about this) I do not have a child I gave up for adoption so whoever would read about me might already know who I am. Or at least they'd know of me, I would think. I wonder how my journals might present me. I wonder if they are accurate to who I am. Or, do my emotions or life experiences lead me to edit and as a result only a fraction of me comes through?
My sister-in-law told me that I am documentarian from every angle. I write a journal about personal stuff, I write a blog about less personal stuff, and I photograph everything left.
The daughter in the book also wonders what kind of teen her mother was - one who dressed like and adult or one who wore poodle skirts?
Last night I was watching Taking Woodstock with my parents. At one point, a bunch of hippies started dancing around naked on the lawn of a motel to greet some lawyers and organizers looking to set-up shop for Woodstock. The short stout elderly woman who runs the hotel yells at them, running at them with a broom, "Cover up your bits! We've got company!"
It was funny, but I digress. 'Ever wonder what you'd be like born in a different era? I'd like to think that if were Alice Paul's age ("Iron Jawed Angels" is a must watch) that I'd join the forces and be a suffragette. In the 1960s, would I be a hippie or an activist?
Or would I be neither? Just a photographer documenting it all?
George Sheehan
“Success means having the courage, the determination, and the will to become the person you believe you were meant to be”
- George Sheehan
Monday, April 5, 2010
Will Santa Do It?
I was chatting with a friend, Kate, during her family party which she was kind enough to invite me to, when she told me a funny story about her daughter, Elizabeth, who is about 5 or 6. Elizabeth asked her mom, "Mom, the Easter Bunny's real, right?" and she thought for a moment, "Because if the Easter Bunny's not real, who would hide all the eggs? I mean, is Santa gonna do it?"
Extreme close-ups of my pretty birthday flowers!...
Extreme close-ups of my pretty birthday flowers!...
Sunday, April 4, 2010
More Easter Fun
As usual, I spent my holiday with my extended "family", neighbors with whom we have celebrated all our holidays with, basically, since I was about four. My parents missed out, thanks to Dad's Sweet Pickles van braking down halfway back from a party they had to attend in NY.
I went by earlier in the day and helped a bit with coloring the eggs.
Amelia in her frilly frilly dress with Auntie Jen.
Lilly spots an egg!
John hides stuff every year all over the house. Candy for the little kids and beer and other libations for the grown kids. Maureen actually found some Fun Dip, which John hadn't bought this year - it was form last year! The Starbursts fell in the toilet. I didn't care until I opened them and found the water made it's way inside. Boo!
I went by earlier in the day and helped a bit with coloring the eggs.
Amelia in her frilly frilly dress with Auntie Jen.
Lilly spots an egg!
John hides stuff every year all over the house. Candy for the little kids and beer and other libations for the grown kids. Maureen actually found some Fun Dip, which John hadn't bought this year - it was form last year! The Starbursts fell in the toilet. I didn't care until I opened them and found the water made it's way inside. Boo!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Maria Robinson
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”
- Maria RobinsonShelf Job
We have a broom closet at the back of our kitchen and "temporary" shelves were installed into it in the early seventies. With the recent rain storms we've been having the closet flooded and the shelves fell apart.
When my parents leave town, somehow the house becomes mine all mine, and projects get done. My project this time? Replace the "temporary" shelves from the early seventies.
And only one fingernail was broken in the completing of this project!
Empty closet
Closet with new shelves!
Closet with shelves and stuff!
When my parents leave town, somehow the house becomes mine all mine, and projects get done. My project this time? Replace the "temporary" shelves from the early seventies.
And only one fingernail was broken in the completing of this project!
Empty closet
Closet with new shelves!
Closet with shelves and stuff!Friday, April 2, 2010
Big Announcement
I went to my friend Christina's today to help out with her 10 week old twin girls. Her oldest daughter, Ava, age 2, was also there. When I pulled up and walked to their front door, Ava stepped out onto their stoop wearing two long pig tails and a bright orange polka dotted t-shirt (thank you, sun, for finally gracing us with your presence), threw her arms out to either side and shouted, "HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!
It made my day.
It made my day.
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