My Life in a Nutshell

We now return to our program...

2006-11-09T16:19:00.000-08:00

Silly me. I allowed real life to get in the way of my cyber-life. So, here's a scramble of what I've been up to...

The goob and hubby are back in school. I have a new job as the Public Relations Coordinator for a local marketing firm. It's really fun. I love the work -- I get to write, edit, do publicity and public relations for our firm and our clients, plan events, etc. They're very nice people and my schedule is perfect. I work three days a week while the goob is in school. Can you say FOUR DAY WEEKENDS!?! Very groovy. Oh, and I get these things called paychecks. They are a pretty color with nice words on them.

The election is over. Locally, not good. Nationally, woohoo!

In other news, my poor oldest sister got the same nasty flu that took me down for half the summer. Hers lasted six weeks, too, and she had all the same weird symptoms I did. It was kind of reassuring for both of us in a weird way, since we were both pretty sure the freaky symptoms were never-before-seen and meant something scary. Now we're both recovered, finally!

The goob is doing more than okay at school. Recent assessments show that at age 7 he has the vocabulary of a 22-year old and is reading at the highest level they tested for, which is "7th grade and above". He reads these 300+ page novels and stuff. It's amazing to see this little guy blazing through these big fat books. He's also playing soccer. The season ends tomorrow with a back-to-back double header. Ugh. I mean, "Yea, Team!!" Then he'll probably move back to swimming, since he is (thank you nameless deity) NOT playing basketball this year. Praise the sports gods, I could not spend another season in that cramped little gym listening to my husband yelling in my ear.

And now, suddenly, the holidays are looming. I will do my best to hide from the empty calories that will be coming out of the walls soon. I will try to avoid the crazy suffocating consumerism that thickens the air. I will remain calm and joyful and ever thankful.

Life is good...

Not sure what to pack in those lunch boxes?

2006-08-24T11:39:00.000-07:00

Once again, Kraft to the rescue! I'm sure you'll find this both healthful and delicious.

Dear Mr. FUV Owner...

2006-08-23T12:59:00.000-07:00

Check out this Craig'sList post.

Hasta luego, amigo...

2006-08-21T10:44:00.000-07:00

And away she goes. It's official. We are selling the Steel Sausage. The transport truck is coming Wednesday evening and our van is headed to a new family in San Diego.

I was trying to reminisce about all the fun times the other day.

Me: Remember that trip to Mexico?
Hubby: Remember when it broke down in that hotel parking lot before we ever got there?

Me: Remember that Christmas trip to Vegas with Jen and Andrew?
Hubby: Remember me and Andrew sleeping in the van on Christmas night and you girls flying home because we couldn't find a mechanic on Christmas?

Me: Remember... oh, never mind.

We had a campout in the van in the backyard last night. We had a fire in the firepit and ate around the fire. Then we went into the van and played Uno and read Encyclopedia Brown mysteries to each other until we fell asleep.

My sleep lasted about ten minutes. Every time hubby rolled over in the top bunk it shook the entire van like an earthquake, shaking me away. Finally I just gave up and stayed awake, waiting for morning.

Now it's almost 11am. Hubby is taking a nap in the bedroom. The goob went back out to the van with some books and a pillow.

Farewell, big brown turd. It's been fun.

And just to make it worse...

2006-08-08T06:48:00.000-07:00

These are my friends in Las Vegas without me. Six of my gal pals flew in from all around the country, but I had to cancel. Grrr.

Woe is me.

2006-08-07T13:11:00.000-07:00

I've had the flu for ten whole days.
It sucks in oh-so-many ways.
The fever does not leave for long.
I think it will, but I am wrong.
I snort and moan and ache and hack.
I think I may have hurt my back.
My son is bored, my house a pit.
It's summer, damn it. I hate this shit.

Where have I been?

2006-07-18T08:39:00.000-07:00

It's summertime and the livin' is easy. I have been enjoying time with my family. Playing in the pool, visiting with friends, exploring, going to the library, staying up late, watching television, reading novels, giggling, playing, and yes, even doing some chores.

We started the summer at a music festival and it's been fun, fun, fun ever since school got out. Speaking of school, the goob had perfect attendance this year. He was so proud. It was a big deal to him to not miss any school. He didn't even want to go out of town for his birthday, so we didn't. The other day we were talking about going to Las Vegas in the Fall to have some fun and celebrate our anniversary. We looked to the goob. "What do you think? It would mean missing some school." He looked up with a big grin and replied, "Last year was the year of perfect attendance. This year is the year of PARTY!" He even did that arm-pump thing to emphasize "PARTY!"

We have decided to skip the giant Labor Day party this year. We've been throwing it since 1992. We missed one year when the house was under construction. Hubby makes a bunch of carnival-style games in the back yard. Everybody plays games to win tickets. They can use the tickets to buy toys (kids), sno-cones (everybody), beer (adults), or shots of rum for the sno-cones (we'll call them adults, but the line is blurry here). Everybody has a grand time. Well, except for me. I'm too tired. Planning for it stresses me out, and keeping things running smoothly during the party is a lot of work. It's also pretty expensive. I convinced the boys that we could skip it this year, I could be relaxed for a few extra weeks, and maybe we could move to an every-other-year format. That might work.

And now, it's time for me to make waffles. It's almost 9am and the boys are still sleeping. I promised the goob I'd make waffles. Then we're going to the library so he can turn in his Summer Reading Program log. He was supposed to read ten chapter books by the end of summer. He's already gotten through twelve, because this is the summer of fun.

Interesting thing to ponder

2006-06-22T10:37:00.000-07:00

"In terms of energy usage alone, [which is] a convenient measure of environmental impact, the average Ethiopian uses one-310th of what we use. So when an American couple stops at two kids, it's like an Ethiopian couple stopping at 620."
-Les Knight, founder, Voluntary Human Extinction Movement, SFGate.com (Nov. 16, 2005)

Even if nobody uses it...

2006-05-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

... at least they get it!
I just found out that End of Suburbia, (the website for the award winning film about oil depletion) deemed the Neighborhood Produce Exchange their link of the week. It also got a mention in the Path To Freedom Journal.

It's had a slow start, but I'm blaming it on the local weather. I don't have much to harvest at home, and I'm assuming others are in the same situation and that's why it's seeing so little action.

When I first thought about doing it, I mentioned the idea to people, and they were enthusiastic and supportive. Not just the calm, polite, "Oh, that's nice" kind of support, but the "That is so totally cool! I can't believe nobody has done this yet" kind of support. So I think it will happen.

Fingers crossed.

Put the pedal to the metal.

2006-05-07T10:16:00.000-07:00

I just printed this out and attached it to the basket on my bike.

May Day is Lei Day in Hawaii

2006-05-01T09:13:00.000-07:00

I lived in Hawaii when I was younger, from about 3 until we moved back when I was in 5th grade.

May first (Lei Day) was huge. All through April, each class at school would practice a performance, usually a song and dance. Here I am practicing my ukulele. (Contain your jealousy about my groovy threads. It was the early 70s. And I wasn't fat, even if it looks like it in this fine photo.)

On Lei Day we all wore special clothes and leis for our performances. The school would have a king and queen and princes and princesses. The Royal Court was always decked out. One of my sisters was the queen once and my mom made her a gold satin dress. The moms would get totally into making the nicest leis possible for the kids -- gorgeous flower leis for the girls and maile leis (beautiful deep green leaves) for the boys.

We would have a huge outdoor assembly with each class performing and all the parents there with cameras.

I get teary thinking about it. All those kids doing traditional hulas, playing ukuleles, or singing "Pearly Shells" or silly songs about mynah birds. People smiling on the streets in aloha shirts and mu`umu`us. The whole state is aglow in spirit and pride.

Google Lei Day and put a little aloha spirit in your day.

Beta tasting

2006-04-20T21:18:00.000-07:00

I finally started a project I've been intending to do for a long time. I have sent notices to some friends and asked them to help me test-drive it for a few weeks before the grand opening. It is called the Neighborhood Produce Exchange.

Wish me luck. Fingers crossed.

Floating

2006-04-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Rain,
Please stop. You're making me crazy. More accurately, you're making my family crazy. My husband can't skate and my son can't play outside. They are bouncing off the walls and the floors - the goob has been doing laps on his Hippity Hop to burn off energy.

Our backyard is underwater. The farmers are pissed that you've ruined their crops. I can't do laundry because the dogs have taken over the laundry room instead of laying around and frolicking in the backyard. I can't plant my spring garden. My toes are cold.

I hear you plan to stick around for the rest of the week. We love you, Rain, but you've outstayed your welcome. Skedaddle. Scoot. Be gone. Off with ye.

Get away from me with that fork.

2006-03-21T19:50:00.000-08:00

I have realized that I'm a little overwhelmed with life right now. Besides last week's events, I'm just swamped. I'm trying to keep a few clients happy, create a few new non-profit websites, be the PTA treasurer, volunteer with a new group trying to revamp the school district's food and nutrition policies, take care of my neighbor's property for her, volunteer at the school, plan for a conference I'm presenting at, etc., etc., etc.

I am exhausted. I was really sick all weekend and now I'm even more behind. I need to step away from a few volunteer gigs. They have taken over. They were supposed to supplement my life, not replace it. Now I'm not baking bread, I'm not working in the garden, I haven't been to the gym, our house is a wreck, etc. Time to reclaim some me and restore order.

Trying to explain to the goob why I wanted to slow down on the volunteer stuff, I said, "It's like if you're at a restaurant with a bunch of people and you have a piece of cake. And everybody asks for a little bite, and you say okay because it's just a little bite. Pretty soon the whole thing's gone, you're left with a bill to pay, an empty plate, and the realization that you didn't even get one bite of the cake because everybody took bigger bites than they said they would." He knew what I meant. He got it. And this afternoon he offered to take me downtown for a cookie, his treat. I love that little man. We went with friends. I had chocolate chip.

In the land of Normal...

2006-03-17T09:03:00.000-08:00

The goob's had plenty to keep him occupied. There has been an invasion of sorts in his classroom. Evidence of leprechauns everywhere. Little green footprints, trails of glittering gold, clovers, and general disarray. Desks have been overturned and notes have been left by "Mr. Leprechaun." He has also accidentally left behind his spectacles and hat. A golden potato was on a counter. The kids are having a grand time searching for his treasure. They have been promised a clue today. Other schools in the district have reported similar mayhem.

The first words out of the goob's mouth this morning were, "Happy Saint Patrick's Day!" He put on a green shirt and rifled through my sock bins for my green socks. I made him green eggs for breakfast. I used the stick blender to blend spinach into his eggs. And of course, I made potatoes. You have to have potatoes on St. Pat's Day.

Tonight we are supposed to go to a big party nearby. I hope the rain doesn't interfere. As you can probably guess, I could use a party right about now.

All over the news.

2006-03-17T09:01:00.000-08:00

Well, it's all over the news, all over the country. A reporter came by yesterday asking questions. I think we know why the police came to check on us so quickly. It's been reported that, "notes threatening various people and organizations were found inside Woods’ Dodge Ram van."

When I've thought about all the things that might happen in my life, I've never really imagined myself ending up on the hit list of a mentally ill killer. I feel so bad for all the people who are affected by this senseless tragedy. Those poor victims and their loved ones. The witnesses. The lives that were forever changed. And yes, even Larry. He was obviously a sick man suffering terribly. Nobody's like that on purpose. I hear he may have been a father. Probably, at one time, somebody's lover. We know he was somebody's son. And now, to those who knew him the last few years, he is just a terrible memory that we hope will fade, leaving, if anything, only some lessons or insight.

We're keeping mum on the homefront about this whole thing and not allowing our names to be used. The last thing the goob needs to know is that he spent his entire life until now next door to a killer. We already had one frighteningly unstable neighbor before this. And then Larry started his spiral.

No kid needs to ponder something like this. So we've been going through the motions, playing and laughing with him, doing special things. And wondering if he's sensing something's not quite right. Noticing that my replies are delayed, my mind is wandering. Focus, focus, stay in the moment.

Shocked and still shaking.

2006-03-15T19:04:00.000-08:00

The police came to my door today and asked lots of questions about Weird Larry. They wanted to know if he'd tried to contact us in any way lately, if we'd seen him in the neighborhood, etc. They were very nice and took lots of notes. I didn't have the guts to ask why they were concerned. During the conversation I answered one question with something like, "I'm not sure, he had this whole paranoid delusional thing going on," and the two detectives looked at each other. I thought, "Wow, I hit a chord with that one."

Then my neighbor called. The police had called him at work to check on his safety. They asked lots of questions about Larry.

Larry won't be bothering us anymore. Sadly, devastatingly, he took others with him. The investigation is under way. I am heartbroken for the families of those he killed. Absolutely heartbroken. And more than a little overwhelmed thinking about it all.

Hungry?

2006-03-07T14:49:00.000-08:00

So, if your favorite restaurant only allows one trip through the salad bar, and you're really hungry, how do you handle it? Engineering, my friends.
Engineering.

Just try it.

2006-03-05T07:22:00.000-08:00

A great way to learn about a fine American business model. Make your millions!

And remember Woodsy Owl? Give a hoot, don't pollute!

Argh.

2006-02-28T08:43:00.000-08:00

It got me. That cold/flu/whatever that everybody's had. It set in suddenly last night with a flaming throat, body ache and mild fever. Grrr. I had plans. Now I will sip ginger tea and pretend the world doesn't exist for a while. Wish me luck.

guess

2006-02-17T08:04:00.000-08:00

guess
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

Okay, what do you think it is? Come on, take a guess!

My hubby found this in a "free" pile on the sidewalk. He picked it up very gingerly and brought it home to try to figure out what the heck it is. I googled the 800 number to find out. Hopefully your eyes aren't good enough to do the same.

Oh, and it's not rated X, except for Xtremely funny.

Good news and...

2006-02-15T12:59:00.000-08:00

The mechanic said he had both kinds of news. The good news is that he thinks he got the problem figured out.

The bad news is that it caught on fire when he was driving it. Apparently somebody along the way left the heat shields off the exhaust. It did not burn up, thank goodness. But it burned up the engine compartment insulation and he got to see flames shooting out.

It's all about love.

2006-02-14T06:44:00.000-08:00

It's all about love.
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

must...vent...now...before...head...explodes

2006-02-11T09:34:00.000-08:00

Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
And double-Grrrrrrrrrrr.
My freakin' VW camper. We need to get rid of it because it doesn't work with the goob's booster seat and we want a different van anyway. So last May I sent it away with this guy who takes them, gets them all gussied up and sells them. He was supposed to do this for me and take a cut. He's done it many times and has a good reputation. He didn't really do crap. He let it sit all during the prime selling season and did not work on it. Finally, in September, I gave up and got it back from him.

One thing he was supposed to do when he had it was investigate why it occasionally missed when driven under load at freeway speed. He said he checked it out and it ran fine. But when he dropped it off, he said, "Oh, I think you need to get it checked out. It was missing when I drove it at freeway speeds." Uh, duh.

So, a few weeks later, in the beginning of October, I took it to the best shop in town with the VW/Porsche guru. I thought it would take a week or so. It sat. And sat. And sat. I'd call and he'd tell me how busy he is and promise to get to it. Finally, last week, he spent a little time on it. He found some debris in a fuel line and blew it out. Yesterday afternoon, more than four months after dropping it off, we picked it up. WooHoo! Finally! Now I can detail it and get it sold. Sigh of relief. We came home, even though I thought we should test drive it, because we picked it up at 5pm on a Friday, which is not a good time to break down on the freeway.

This morning I took it out for a drive, deciding it would be good to bond with it and feel the love again before spending the next few days detailing it for sale. And it's doing the same damn thing. It made it just as far as it ever does before starting to sputter on the freeway. So I pulled off, came home, and slammed a bunch of doors. I'm trying to contain the cussing, but it's very difficult. Very very difficult.

Life in general

2006-02-05T07:08:00.000-08:00

My poor friend Angela. She has IC, which is not to be confused with this. Her IC is interstitial cystitis, which is not nearly as cool or delicious. It is exacerbated by just about anything one might like to eat or drink.

I will go without coffee and most of my favorite foods today, to see what it's like. To suffer alongside her. To feel the pain of a friend. Okay, maybe it's 'cuz we're out of milk and most food items and I don't want to fight the Super Bowl crowd at the grocery store, but I'll still be suffering. So when I'm stomping around the house saying, "Fug the SuperFreakingBowl!" it'll be said with not just boredom, but true anguish.

Life here is good. I've spent two days researching our next above ground pool purchase. Bigger! Better! More fun to be had! We've decided that this will be the Summer of Home. Instead of galavanting around, we'll stay home, play in the pool, garden more, and the goob will take some fun classes. Art, sports, music, whatever he chooses that falls within the budget.

Which reminds me, I keep thinking about getting a job. I have time. I don't want to clean our house or do our laundry and I do enough volunteering. So I find these part-time jobs in the paper and then I go, "Good Lord, what am I thinking? SUMMERS! I can't get a job! I need summers free to play with my family and do whatever the heck we want!" So, ummm, no job for me. No real job, anyway. I still do a few little contract jobs for clients. They send some cash my way and are kinda fun, except when I'm actually doing them. But as I'm intending to do them, and when I have finished doing them, they seem fun. Good enough!

And now, it is time to face the day. The sun is up. It's time.

The Curse of Weird Larry?

2006-01-29T18:40:00.000-08:00

When Weird Larry finally moved out, my neighbor and I joked about burning sage and having some kind of ritual to rid that apartment of bad vibes. Perhaps we should have. This morning the new tenant, a seemingly healthy young guy, was taken away on a stretcher, grimacing fiercely and writhing in pain. We don't know what happened.

Cheers to my friend Violet!

2006-01-17T11:07:00.000-08:00

Today is Violet's 98th birthday. She lived across the street until a few months ago. Now she lives with her daughter about an hour away. My mom and I drove up yesterday to take her to lunch. I can't imagine all the changes she has seen since 1908.

Vi is hilarious. She told us stories about her youth.

Once when she was 8 she decided to go into town. So she took the sled her dad made her (he was a blacksmith) and hooked it up to a calf. The calf was so excited to be doing something, it ran back and forth across the road, and she hung on for dear life. It finally dumped her off after the first good hill and took off with her sled. She had to chase it down and wrestle it home.

She rode motorcycles when she was a teenager in the early 1920s. She liked to hang out and race with the boys. I can picture it.

She was married three times ("the middle one I don't like to think about") and had one child. She could do anything. When we cleaned out her house after she moved, there was everything you need for every kind of craft, needlework, and handwork imaginable. It was all organized and labeled and there were instructions and ideas in binders.

In her 70s she took painting classes at the art store. I have several of her paintings in my house.

Vi has not let life pass her by. She is an inspiration. She laughs when I tell her that. I think the laughter has a lot to do with her longevity.

Sometimes I just have to giggle.

2006-01-05T12:45:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you about my birthday.
We've had a gift certificate to Cambria Pines Lodge for a long time. We were saving it for just the right time. We decided my birthday would be the perfect time to use it -- hubby and son were both off from school, which rarely happens on my birthday.

I made reservations and a plan. We would wake early, wander into town for breakfast, then go up the coast, do some exploring, play in the indoor pool, have a nice dinner, then meet up with my parents for dessert. They would then take the goob home with them, leaving hubby and I to spend the night. I was so proud for having a plan.

Of course, that was irrelevant. A huge storm hit Cambria before we could leave home. Over a hundred trees toppled, crushing cars and homes, and a massive power outage ensued. The lodge trip was not to be. They have now been without power for several days.

So we decided to stay home. I woke up early. Hubby decided to sleep in. By the time he awoke 2 1/2 hours later, I was a hungry bear storming around in the kitchen looking for something to make the goob and myself for breakfast.

We did make it downtown for lunch, though and it was very nice. Then the boys went home to make me the most delectable lemon bars while I wandered around town.

That afternoon, hubby went on his daily skate. He stopped to buy me a long stemmed rose and a bottle of wine. Unfortunately, he crashed on the way home, so he returned with a short-stemmed rose and a plastic grocery sack dripping with red wine.

We strained the last 4 ounces of wine through a coffee filter and had a toast. Then we decided to fully enjoy the rest of the bottle of wine even if we couldn't drink it, so we started at the driveway and followed the trail of wine down the sidewalk, around the corner, and to the scene of the accident, laughing our fool heads off all the way.

I decided it would be a good night to just stay safely at home. Hubby got me a burrito and I climbed in bed and watched lame tv for two entire hours.

All in all, it was a damn fine day.

2006

2006-01-01T09:35:00.000-08:00

I have a bad cold and my house is a mess. But that's okay. There's still something promising about the new year. Maybe this is the year we'll finish the remodel. Maybe my knee will heal completely and I'll turn into some kind of athletic goddess. Maybe, well... anything!

Welcome, fresh new year. I plan to enjoy you to the fullest. And just when you think you can't take anymore, you can slip into retirement and let your replacement do the job.

Here's to all the good times and good friends from 2005, and the mysteries, laughter and adventures yet to unfurl.

Merry Merry Happy Happy

2005-12-24T07:12:00.000-08:00

Today I will be scurrying around. Still a few last-minute gifts to purchase and a whole house to tidy before friends and family come over tonight.

I don't really know who reads this or what religion they are or what holidays they observe. But I do hope everybody's with someone they love, appreciating the joys and beauties of life. Today, tomorrow, and always.

If I'm shaking...

2005-12-23T10:38:00.000-08:00

...it's because several of hubby's students gave him Starbuck's gift cards, which he promptly handed over to me. I only go there when it's free, and actually feel kind of weird even then. I have an aversion to the place. But I can't let them make all that money off the gift cards without even having them redeemed. So I will do my part. I will make the sacrifice.

In preparation, I cruised their website. Specifically the nutrition info. I will be avoiding all the food items. Holy moly, they sell some sugary fat-bombs. Add in a beverage and you won't have to eat for days... especially if you go there after a breakfast like I had at home this morning, which consisted of one rum ball, a chocolate-cherry cookie, and an eggnog latte.

We all have them...

2005-12-15T12:44:00.000-08:00

Those socks that sneak off in the dead of night, leaving no clues as they abandon their mates. Such an unfair, cowardly way to go. So unkind, too, dooming their counterpart to a life no longer full of the joys of service to others. (Unless a painful and eventually fatal career as a shop rag counts.) Luckily, however, there is new hope for those left behind.

If you are trying to help a loved sock recover from separation, you may be interested in this site.

Attention parents!

2005-12-12T07:35:00.000-08:00

If you have a child who has seen the ads for FLOAM, you have probably been hounded relentlessly to purchase some. Beware! Read this site first. And note there is a recipe there for a homemade floamish substance.

staring truth in the face... er, um, chest.

2005-12-12T06:51:00.000-08:00

Okay, I may have to get one of these, as seen at OneHorseShy. I would hang it on the wall in my disastrously cluttered and oh-so-scary "office" (aka The Great Room of Crap). Oh, wait, they're twenty bucks and I haven't finished my Christmas shopping. And I kind of accidentally already somehow ended up with a new mp3 player and an armband for it and some speakers for it and a MC protector and UV filter for my camera. I won't be buying a twenty dollar t-shirt for my wall after all.

The next time you see my butt...

2005-12-09T09:19:00.000-08:00

...keep your comments to yourself and remember these two words that make it all worthwhile... eggnog latte.

Join me in a big WOOHOO!!

2005-11-29T17:09:00.000-08:00

Hasta La Vista, Weird Larry
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

What a nice surprise to notice the locksmith's truck next door earlier today. A quick peek revealed this little gem.

The other neighbors have invited us for cocktails tonight to celebrate. We will bring the pizza and walk without fear past the creepy little hut Weird Larry once called home.

The house that Party built.

2005-11-27T08:09:00.000-08:00

Seems we have a lot of parties. Of course, when I met my hubby his nickname was Party Boy. And people did start calling me Mrs. Boy when we got married. We have mellowed substantially since then. Hubby even had his nickname officially revoked when he refused to participate in a few events, prefering instead to hang out at home.

But the parties we host have increased with time. It comes with the territory. Literally. Living downtown makes our home a natural gathering spot. Halloween? Let's go to the Somebody's house! Mardi Gras? The Somebody's must be doing something! Christmas Eve. Hey, I bet the Somebody's are staying in town since their parents are gonna be around. Let's go over there for drinks and funny Christmas music, I bet everyone will be there! There have been some times when I didn't even know I was having a party until the phone started ringing with people asking what to bring and when to arrive. And it's always a grand time full of frivolity and laughter. I'm glad we have such good friends to keep our butts in gear.

So, if you know me well enough to know where I live, come over before the Christmas Parade. I have just learned that everybody is meeting at our house before the parade since we live so close to the parade route. Those in the bike group will bring their bikes and finish decorating them in our yard. Those not in the parade will drink hot chocolate (and, umm, perhaps peppermint schnapps) and wander down to watch the excitement.

The parade takes a really long time, what with the laggy Scouts and errant wiener dogs and such. The bike group is usually one of the highlights. Scads of silly people riding silly bikes in silly costumes honking silly horns and acting, well, silly. The theme for the parade is Jingle Bell Rock. My husband's bike will be towing a trailer. On the trailer will be our son playing his drum set. I'm not sure what I'll do. Sometimes I decorate my bike and ride, sometimes I take on the role of photographer. Regardless, I inevitably find myself thinking, "Wow, it always seems so much more fun when I'm looking back on it, but damn, this thing is taking forever and I really have to pee." And then we get home and I pee and eat cookies and laugh about how lame that funny little parade is and suddenly all is well and we can't wait to see the pictures.

He's thankful for math.

2005-11-24T06:31:00.000-08:00

Last night during a commercial break from Mythbusters (one of the best shows ever), I turned to the goob and said, "Tomorrow's Thanksgiving. Should we start thinking about what we're thankful for?" And he said, "Yeah, and then tomorrow we can write it on a big piece of paper." I told him he should start. He immediately said, "Okay, I'm thankful for math! And school! Oh, and our family, and..." We came up with 13 things.

I am so thankful that he is loving every minute of school. Some of you may remember I was kind of freaking out before the year started. "Does he really need to be there six hours a day? That's like having a job! Does it really take six hours to learn what he's going to learn?" etc., etc. And now I am so happy for him. He cannot get enough of that school action. Loving teachers, good friends, fun challenging things to do. It is amazing. My son is amazing. Life, in general, is amazing.

Ninety-two

2005-11-19T09:28:00.000-08:00

It was ninety-two degrees Fahrenheit yesterday. The low was forty. A fifty-two degree change in that 24 hour period. We were warmer than places in the world that are having summer now.

I went swimming. I was in the pool on November 18th at 9:15am and it was warm and beautiful.

As John Carlisle says:
Global warming... enjoy it while you can!

He's probably right.

2005-11-13T05:56:00.000-08:00

"How about we make it a total sugar-fest day? Like, I could just eat candy all day and all night!" says the goob holding his bag of Halloween candy. "Well, no that won't really work," I reply, "because you would drive me completely insane and then you'd have to get a new mommy." "No I wouldn't," he says, "I'd just go up to Grandma's. She wouldn't mind." Ahhh, Grandma.

Humm along with me.

2005-11-05T06:30:00.000-08:00

This is hilarious.

How do these things happen?

2005-11-03T06:15:00.000-08:00

The goob and I were walking home from soccer practice. "Hey, look" said I, as we approached our house, "There's Dad!" My hubby was riding his bike up the street, coming home from work.

Then I noticed he'd gone past our driveway. He was riding one-handed. The other hand was held behind him. His middle finger was extended. A guy in his thirties, wearing office-wear (slacks, fancy shoes, dress-shirt and tie) was running after him. Oh, my. Hmmmmm.

I wanted the guy to stop so after hubby whizzed past I called out to the approaching man. I used my best confused concerned citizen voice. "Hey, Dude, what's going on? Did something happen? Did that guy do something to you?" I wanted him to think I could help him.

Dude, gasping: That guy hit my car and took off!

Me (in my most innocent and shocked voice): Really? Holy Moly! That's a trip! What happened?

Dude:I don't know, the guy's crazy!

Me: Seriously? Why would he do that? Did you almost hit him with your car or something? Did you run a stop sign? Did you turn left in front of him and almost kill him or something?

note: I know the only thing that gets my hubby pissed is almost dying because some idiot doesn't know how to drive. The dude stopped running but his arms were still flailing.

Dude: Are you kidding me?

Me: Wow! Are you sure you didn't do something stupid and almost kill him?

Dude: What are you..? No, The guy's on crack or something!

Me: You really didn't do anything? You weren't driving like an idiot or something?

Dude: Hey, are you his wife? You're his wife, aren't you?

Me: I do know that man. And I have my cell phone right here. Do you want me to call the police? I could do that for you. I could call the cops right now!

At this point, the dude turned around and ran away, back down the street, tie flapping over his shoulder.

The goob and I went home. Hubby came in the back door huffing and puffing. I got the full story. I was right. The Smarty Dude was talking on his cell phone in his BMW. He ran the red light, and turned right in front of hubby, who was going straight in the bike lane. Hubby almost got hit, so he yelled to get Smarty's attention. Smarty didn't like this, so he turned quickly into the next driveway to turn around and go after hubby. In true Smarty fashion, the guy not only cut off two other cars to do so, he also went up and over a curb. He still held the phone for most of that.

Hubby kept pedaling. Smarty took chase. At one point, Smarty thought he could outsmart hubby by going up a parallel street and sneaking down a side street. Hubby saw him and rode straight toward him, passing him with a wave. Smarty flipped a U and chased him again. So hubby turned around and passed him in the other direction again, knowing the guy couldn't turn his car as quickly as hubby can turn his bike.

Smarty finally tired of trying to make U-turns, jumped out of his car, and took chase on foot in his fancy shoes. And that's where we came into the story.

I'm glad the guy didn't run hubby down with his car. Freakin' selfish idiot bastard.

Naughty Words

2005-10-27T09:36:00.000-07:00

As I was tucking him in last night, the goob was telling me that some kids in his class use bad words and he doesn't like it. He told me they use "the f word" and "the b word" and "the d word and the s word." So I was thinking he meant fuck, bitch, damn and shit.

I asked him what he thought "those words" meant. He explained that "the f word is the naughty word you can say instead of boop." So the f word they are using is FART.

The b word is the one they say when they should say bottom. BUTT.

The d word and the s word are the ones that mean not very smart. DUMB and STUPID.

He was so sweet and concerned about it. I explained that those aren't really cuss words, but they are impolite and not really the best words to choose. He was so surprised. He thought they were cuss words because we don't use them. He said he still wasn't going to say those words because they weren't nice.

I had to leave the room soon to bust up laughing. He was so freakin' cute. "The F word."

Perhaps I am insane

2005-10-25T06:09:00.000-07:00

I spent all day Saturday hosting and attending the annual "retreat" meeting for the giant music festival we help put on. We will start meeting monthly soon, then weekly. Sunday I spent four hours in a PTA budget meeting. Yesterday I did PTA bookkeeping and miscellaneous phone calls. Today I will work in the classroom. Tomorrow I will be at the school helping with the vision testing. The next day I will be there helping with the Vermont lesson.

If I am going to work this much, I should get a dang job. One where I get money and free coffee.

Alas, I am a volunteer at heart. I like doing nice things. And I do feel that those of us who can volunteer should. There are many moms out there working really hard to put food on the table who would love to spend a day with the kids, seeing what's happening in the classroom, providing a little extra help here and there. I can do it. I can contribute to the school, not just for my son, but for all the kids. So I do. And it's fun, even on the days when I'm dragging my feet to get there. I feel good when I leave.

another reminder

2005-10-24T09:08:00.000-07:00

If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal -- that is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. --Thoreau

Read this.

2005-10-18T08:57:00.000-07:00

This is an excellent reminder that doing things beats the hell out of waiting for things.
Starhawk's second New Orleans update exposes the government's lack of ability to help in the most basic of ways, and how an organized group of volunteers can make a huge difference.

2005-10-17T10:34:00.000-07:00

It's National Breast Cancer Awareness month. I'm not really into the whole pink ribbon thing. Finding a cure is good, of course. How 'bout finding out why it's happening? I have a long-held interest in the issue of the environmental causes of cancer.

My friend Jenny died of breast cancer. She was featured in the outstanding documentary Rachel's Daughters. Jenny blamed her cancer on early exposure to agricultural chemicals as a child growing up in the rural South County of San Luis Obispo. My friend Lona was diagnosed with breast cancer at 22 with no family history and died at 30, leaving three kids. My friend Thea died of cancer in her 30s. And Betsy from high school and, well, the list goes on. Many of my friends and relatives have been affected. My mother-in-law and my friend Lesley are survivors, but they went through so much to stay with us. This wasn't happening when our parents were in their 20s and 30s. Their friends weren't dying of cancer.

While I support efforts to treat and cure cancer, I want more done to stop it before it starts. This means asking some tough questions regarding exposure to common chemicals we don't think twice about. Here's a link to a good organization, Breast Cancer Action. They provide excellent information and encourage us to "Do Something Besides Worry -- Educate, Agitate, Organize."

Google "cancer environmental causes" and see what you get. Pretty scary stuff.

Our friend Carol died of breast cancer this summer. She and my husband were very close friends for many years. Carol was a beautiful, bright, insightful and hilarious woman. Twenty years or so ago, my hubby and his friends helped her record some of her songs. You can download some of them here. Join me in enjoying them. Tap your foot, laugh at the cat song, nod along with the art song. Carol would approve.

Dismissed

2005-10-16T09:34:00.000-07:00

So, I heard back about my parking ticket. It was dismissed. The handwritten note at the bottom of the form said, "Dismissed in the interest of justice as a one-time courtesy." Will somebody please explain this? Either it's justice or a courtesy. Since when is justice a one-time courtesy?

WTF?

2005-10-08T13:04:00.000-07:00

I was one of the first people to call the cops to complain about the idiot parkers at the local soccer field. People were parking in fire lanes, in no parking zones, all over. I don't do that. It's dangerous and stupid. I want those stupid shits to get tickets because they are endangering people. If my kid gets his clock cleaned on the field, I want the ambulance to be able to reach him.

Today, my car was in a legal parking area, off the road, not encroaching the bike lane. There was no sign prohibiting parking. The curb was not red. And I came out to find a $35 ticket on my windshield. WTF? It said "prohibited parking." Parking was not prohibited there, it was legal. Luckily, my hubby had his Palm Pilot with a built-in camera, so we took some photos. But I'm so pissed that now I have to deal with fighting this totally stupid wrong ticket while other idiots were blocking the freaking fire lane.

Here's something cool...

2005-10-07T12:16:00.000-07:00

In 1967 my dad, in his early 30s, was building a totally groovy house he had designed at the base of a hill in San Luis Obispo. One day a guy stopped by. He said he was passing through town on his way to the Bay Area and had stopped for breakfast at a pancake place across the freeway. He had spotted this interesting construction project and had to check it out.

He and my dad walked around the site, chatting about the project. The visitor was very enthusiastic about the house, the design, the innovation. They hit it off as unconventional artists who appreciate the challenges of inspiration. He gave my dad his card and said to look him up if he ever made it to Santa Monica (I think it was Santa Monica).

Years later, my dad was digging through a pile of accumulated stuff. He stopped short at a business card. "How the hell did I get Frank Gehry's card?" he thought. And then it hit him. That nice guy that had stopped by the house on San Miguel Avenue. At the time, the name meant nothing to my dad. Since then, Gehry's architecture has become world famous.

I'm not cut out...

2005-09-24T13:17:00.000-07:00

...to be a soccer mom. Practice twice a week and games on Saturdays. Next week we have to be at the field at 7:15am for team pictures before the game.

Our son is gifted in many ways. Just not soccer. He's cute and funny and smart and well... at least he's enjoying soccer. He kind of forgets he's playing sometimes and forgets the way the game is played sometimes. He did really well the first quarter this week and then all knowledge of the sport evaporated. Perhaps swimming is his sport. His swim instructors say he's a natural at swimming. And really, swimming can save your life in certain situations. How often do people have to kick a ball to stay alive?

The other parents really get into it. They sew these giant team banners and suspend them from cleverly engineered stands that they haul out to the field and erect for each game. I was amazed. I had no idea.

And the snacks. We take turns providing the snacks. Coach was very clear about bringing healthy snacks. He said the snack is supposed to refuel their little bodies and asked us to bring sliced fruit, water or 100% fruit juice, etc. Today's Snack Mom was handing out pouches full of some kind of blue KoolAid brand substance and Oreos. She was saying, "Do you want some water? Here, have some water!" but handing them the blue stuff. Water is not blue! She did, however, have some honeydew melon slices also. But who thinks blue sugary crap and Oreos are good fuel for growing bodies?

I bit my tongue, promised the goob he could have yogurt when he got home, and let him eat his fill of melon.

Might be a good time...

2005-09-23T06:03:00.000-07:00

... to pray. Or whatever your version of it is. I'm not a religious gal, but I'm sending all my best energy, vibes, hopes, to those in Rita's path. I have friends who have evacuated, and I have other friends whose families have evacuated. Once they're on the road, there's no way of knowing how far they've traveled. Traffic is stopped, gas is scarce, and there are no motel rooms to be had at most destinations.

I used to wonder about those abandoned ancient civilizations we'd learn about in school. Big, well thought-out communities, unearthed centuries later. Scientists would wonder why they just up and left. I have a better idea of how that could happen. Even now.

colors galore

2005-09-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

colors galore
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

i madonnari is always a feast for the eyes.

2005-09-12T09:23:00.000-07:00

My knee is starting to feel better. I finally feel like I may actually recover if I don't do anything stupid. I've been really bummed about it.

I'm still reeling from all the Katrina-related news and events. Counting my blessings, too, of course.

I spent 3 hours at a mandatory training session for PTA Treasurers. Oh my. Don't ask.

Speaking of napping, I finally got a good night of sleep. That only happens a handful of times each month for me, and the knee problem has made it worse. I woke up this morning remembering what it feels like to be me. Ahhhh. Energetic and happy.

I made a terrible mistake this morning. I looked at a Crate and Barrel catalog. Why, oh why did I do that? I'm a total anti-consumer. I really don't buy into the whole "more stuff" lifestyle. But that catalog. Oh, that catalog. Dang me for looking.

I gotta go. I need to measure the floorspace in my library to see if that Crate & Barrel rug will fit...

I've changed my mind.

2005-08-31T08:51:00.000-07:00

Woe is not me. My knee is screwed up, but I have a house and clean water and food and my family.

Katrina sashayed
beyond the sea
blind to the destruction
her swirling skirts
erased the dreams
left behind an empty
dancefloor
flooded with tears

Woe is me.

2005-08-27T12:16:00.000-07:00

I blew out my knee at the waterslides. Some kind of ligament thang caused by weird landing to avoid taking out a cute little girl who forgot to get out of the splashdown pool. There was a big POP. It hurts and is really gonna mess with my plans. I have a list of things to do when the goob gets back in school, and all of them require having a working body. As it is, I am to rest, ice, wrap and elevate for a few days and go back to the doc. Grrr. The waterslides were a blast up to that point, though. And at least it was my left knee, so I could still drive home. First time I've been glad to have an automatic transmission. Oh, and I also stepped on a bee right after hurting my knee.

heard in the hallway

2005-08-23T07:24:00.000-07:00

The goob was cleaning his room (which actually means playing quietly in there until somebody notices there's no cleaning going on). Hubby peeked his head around the doorway to see how it was going. The goob was playing with little Lego guys who were having the following conversation.

Voice one: "Come on! Let's get into your Batmobile!"
Voice two: "But I don't have one."
Voice one: "What? Well, what kind of vehicle do you have?"

Best with lime.

2005-08-22T18:58:00.000-07:00

Best with lime.
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

Camping this weekend rocked.

So
much
fun.
And no, I don't drink Coke.

forgetfulness + pancakes + microwave=

2005-08-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

forgetfulness + pancakes + microwave=
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

It wasn't me. It wasn't the little one. I half-expected to find the oil drain plug in there, too.

the best laid plans of mice and men...

2005-08-15T12:53:00.000-07:00

So, I decided today's the day. I will take the boy shopping. For the first time in his life, he did not moan about being dragged shopping. He was actually excited. "Can we go right now, Mom? Let's go!" This from a child who hates shopping. Usually when I tell him we have some shopping to do he picks up the phone and calls Grandma and asks if he can go to her house while I shop. I was tres stoked. "Well, honey, I need some lunch and we have to wait for Dad to finish changing the oil in the car, then we can go." So we go out to see how Dad's doing on the oil change.

The goob tells Dad what we're planning to do. Dad laughs and they both start singing the lines from the Supersuckers song, "Your Mom Rules" about "summer's over, you need some school clothes, she's taking you to the mall..."

They start rocking so hard they decide they need to hear the song, so they come inside to get the mp3 player. They rock the song, singing along, serenading me, then decide it's time to get back to work.

And then... and then...
... hubby realizes he musta set the oil drain plug down somewhere. It's not in his pockets. It's not under the car. It's not on top of the car or sitting on the tire or anywhere to be found inside or outside the home or on the path between the car and house.

Thus, there is no way to keep the oil in the engine of the car, and we will not be shopping for school clothes. Unfortunately, we will also not be shopping for food, going to the bank, or many other things that were on the errand list.

It all happened because they were serenading me with "Your Mom Rules" and they actually believe that, and well, how cool is that?

P.S. Edited to add: It never showed up, despite much searching. I finally had to call my mom and ask her to take us to the car dealership to get a new one. The dealership is in a town about 30 miles away. We did a little shopping while we were there.

School clothes?

2005-08-14T13:07:00.000-07:00

School clothes? I'm supposed to go buy him school clothes? How did I forget this ritual that brought me such agony as a child? I didn't even think about it until my neighbor asked if we'd gone school shopping yet. Umm, no, not quite yet. I kinda forgot you're supposed to do that. I don't have a lot of experience as a mother of a school aged child, and I'm still refusing to believe that summer's almost over.

I don't want it to end. I want to frolick more. I want to stay up late and play. I want to sleep late and eat ice cream and splash in the pool. Please, don't let it end. Don't make my son and hubby go back to the classroom and leave me in charge of making lunches and providing adequate numbers of clean socks.

Does my little boy really need to spend six hours each day at school? Does it really take that long to learn what he needs to learn? Or are minutes stolen dealing with things like classroom management and discipline issues? I wish I had it in me to homeschool. A few hours of noses to the grindstone and a few hours of exploring and experimenting.

Alas, I am undisciplined and I don't know how to do it. He learned to read in kindergarten, and I am sure I would've had no clue how to teach him that. I would waste time and allow him to waste time and then I would panic and we'd butt heads and I'd be remorseful and painfully aware of my shortcomings.

So, I guess, compared to that, shopping for school clothes will be pretty painless.

Sigh.

Ese cosquillas mis barbas.

2005-08-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

New favorite phrases, courtesy of the Otter Pops website:

I am a saltwater otter. Soy una nutria de la agua salada.
I am a freshwater otter. Soy una nutria de agua dulce.
Which way to the water? ¿Dónde está el agua?
Is the water cold today? ¿Es el agua fría hoy?
Those rocks are slippery. Esas rocas son deslizadizas.
Your musk smells lovely. Su almizcle huele encantador.
How old is your pup? ¿Cómo vieja es su nutria infantil?
That tickles my whiskers. Ese cosquillas mis barbas.
This kelp is delicious. Este quelpo es delicioso.

I want to make sure...

2005-08-10T06:53:00.000-07:00

...that you love Mark Morford as much as I do.
If you don't know him, please go away now. Go right here and read at least five archived columns before you come back. Class dismissed.

Paint job

2005-08-07T20:43:00.000-07:00

Paint job
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

We painted my husband's missile, adorned it with a message of peace, and used it to draw attention to the lemonade, grape and cookie sale being held by the Junior Neighborhood Philanthropic Society.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

2005-08-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

I will sleep well tonight. This afternoon we had the first event of the newly formed Junior Neighborhood Philanthropic Society. The goob and his friends sold lemonade, homegrown grapes and cookies. They invited their customers to write down organizations they'd like the kids to learn more about. Soon we will help the kids research the agencies and decide where to donate the money. A local social activist came by and hung hard. He read to us from a book of haikus about cats and enlightened us on some local political issues. Many people stopped for lemonade. The Junior Neighborhood Philanthropic Society raised over forty bucks!

After we closed down shop, we decided it would be a shame to throw out leftover fresh lemonade, so we ordered pizza, herded the kids into the backyard, and drank tequila and lemonade margaritas. Forgive my typing. I've tried to correct most of the errors. Now I must nap.

Correction

2005-08-07T07:45:00.000-07:00

The missile is 8 1/2 feet tall, not seven.
The boys spray-painted it yesterday. They very carefully chose the colors by rummaging through the shed and using whatever they found that wasn't empty.

Who can resist a free missile?

2005-08-05T18:21:00.000-07:00

Who can resist a free missile?
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

Who can resist a free missile?
My hubby was in the shower, when my son and I heard him yell, "Oh, the rocket! I forgot about the rocket!" We raced in to see what the heck he was talking about.

It turns out he had seen a 7 ft tall missile sitting on a street corner with a "free missile" sign on it while out rollerblading earlier and just remembered it while stepping into the shower. Don't we all do our best at remembering things in the shower?

So he turned off the water, pulled on his pants, loaded his family into the truck, and went to retrieve the free missile. He didn't even put on shoes.

It was quite fun driving the truck while my husband sat in back holding his missile.

In the hour we've had it, I've had a lot of fun. We needed help unloading it, so I went to get the neighbor. "My husband would like to show you his missile."

A little later, my best friend called and asked what I was doing. "Oh, just admiring my husband's seven-foot missile."

You get the idea. I mean, really, who would pass up a free missile?

File under "Ewwww, that's so gross"

2005-08-03T07:25:00.000-07:00

From the local paper:

Avila Beach will be closed at least through this afternoon because of a raw sewage spill from San Luis Obispo's treatment plant early Tuesday.

San Luis Obispo City Utilities Director John Moss said a computer glitch prevented some pumps from operating properly, causing 30,000 to 40,000 gallons of waste to back up and overflow during the early hours of the morning.

The sewage -- enough to fill a motel pool -- flowed eight miles from the treatment facility near Los Osos Valley Road to the beach...

I can't wait to read the article to the goob, though. He always gets crabby that I won't let him play at the end of the beach "with the little river". I always reply with something like, "Honey, that there's a river of doom, filled with poop and disgusting grossness." Now I have proof.

orange jelly

2005-08-02T12:51:00.000-07:00

orange jelly
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

Have I mentioned that I could watch jellyfish for hours?

Just returned from a fun trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. So much to see. It's always hard to pull me away from the jellies, though.

Have I said I love summer?

2005-07-25T12:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't been posting much because I've been very busy since returning from vacation. Each morning, there is much coffee needing my attention. And breakfast to be prepared and consumed. A crossword puzzle to do. Laundry and housekeeping to ignore. A pool to splash in. Bread to bake. Grapes to pick and eat. A darling little boy to play with. A husband to hug. Games to play. Friends and neighbors to hang out with.

Indeed, there is much to do. Yesterday I had to decide which custom jewelry I should wear. The dyed noodles on green and blue pipe cleaner necklace, or the noodle and bead bracelet?

Yesterday we made grapeade from the grapes in the backyard. It was tasty. All three of us splashed in the goob's pool until almost 7pm and then ate popcorn for dinner. (Organic, stove-popped, with butter and salt.) We've been staying up late and doing whatever we feel like. Because we can.

Last night I cut the goob's hair and today I cut my mom's hair. The goob was talking to her on the phone this morning and he told her I could cut her hair if she came over, so she hopped in the car. I must say, it looks pretty dang good. I was kind of afraid, because every time she gets her hair cut she comes by and complains about what a bad job they did. So, if you see my mom, find out what she really thinks about her haircut and report back.

Hubby has been working on clearing out the post-remodel and various other debris from the very back of our lot. No more Sanford and Son set replica, darn.

I keep saying I'm gonna work on the house and get things accomplished, but as you can see, I've been busy.

So freakin' cool.

2005-07-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

Morca
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

The orcas (which aren't really whales, they are dolphins) in the Johnstone Strait in BC have all been identified. There is a book that shows their lineage. The family group we encountered had a grandma and her off-spring. The fathers never go with the pod. These female-led family groups stay together, but their children sneak off to mate, then return to their families. There are about 200 in the area, but we only saw one family because it is early in the season.

Good to be home

2005-07-10T19:01:00.000-07:00

Just got home from a two week trip. We went to the north end of Vancouver Island to go whale watching. It rocked. We visited many wonderful friends along the way. We are now tired and wading in dirty laundry.

More later!

WL update

2005-06-09T09:39:00.000-07:00

Weird Larry has not mowed his lawn since the incident. It's totally overgrown now, like he is just lying in wait with his camera, daring somebody to mow it.

At least I tried...

2005-05-28T17:02:00.000-07:00

At least I tried...
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

No, I'm not stressin'...

2005-05-27T12:07:00.000-07:00

"Mom, when are we going to have my birthday celebration with Grandma and Grampa and my cousins?" Oops. We went to SeaWorld for his birthday, and we've been really busy since then and, well, crud. I'd better get on it. "I'm not sure, honey, when would you like to do it?" "Tomorrow."

So, umm, here we are. It's tomorrow. Last night after our discussion the goob got on the phone and called the relatives. He also decided on the menu and the music. I just need to clean the house, go shopping, make dinner for twelve people and create a chocolate on chocolate ice cream cake shaped like T-rex with lime icing . No problem. I've got six hours. I'm sure it'll all be fine...

Use a mower, go to jail...

2005-04-24T11:04:00.000-07:00

The place next door to us is an old single level turn of the century home with four semi-connected units. The unit directly next to our house is occupied by two nice young ladies. My husband mows their lawn when he mows ours, since they have no mower and the lawn is connected to ours. He mowed it for the previous tenants, too, a young newlywed couple. We are neighborly. Next to them is Weird Larry. We stay away from Weird Larry because he is, well, weird. A strange round man, probably in his 60s, who spends most of his time tucked into his tiny apartment, shopping at Food4Less, and occasionally repairing mobile homes for a living. He also claims to be a writer.

The other day we had a message on the answering machine from the police. They had a complaint from "the property owner" (he wishes) next door, saying we had illegally mowed his lawn and we are ordered to stay off his property. Uh, hmmm, maybe, we thought, hubby didn't know exactly where to stop when he mowed the girls' lawn. So I walked over to talk to Weird Larry about it. I was all nice, inquired if there was a problem, and asked if maybe for future problems we could talk about it instead of involving the police. Weird Larry was a jerk.

I explained that hubby hadn't done anything wrong intentionally, but if he had mowed too far, wouldn't it have been easy to just step outside and say, "Oh, ya know, you can stop right here, I'll take care of my own part?" WL said he wasn't home at the time, he was in a nearby town. I asked why he thought hubby did it, then. He started insisting "I know he did it and he did it because he's an asshole." Then he claimed he had photos of hubby doing it. Umm, yeah, right. The photos he took from the little town 13 miles away?

He also insinuated that the only reason my hubby mows the lawn for the girls is because they are young females. Whatever. On my way home I noticed that Weird Larry's whole lawn was indeed mowed, not just a little encroachment over the line between the two neighbors. I confirmed with my hubby that he hadn't done it.

So I asked J, WL's neighbor on the other side, if he was the nice neighborly guy who had mowed WL's lawn. Indeed he was. He was doing his own, so to be nice he did WL's, too. Unfortunately, WL considers such neighborly acts vandalism worthy of police intervention.

Yesterday I saw WL on the sidewalk. I told him it was J who mowed his lawn. He yelled at me some more. I'd finally had enough. I said, "Well, Larry, I hope you feel as foolish as you are." Love thy neighbor be damned. Asshole.

Processing...

2005-04-13T07:10:00.000-07:00

When the goob's goldfish died more than a year ago, he wasn't ready to say goodbye to it. So into a little water-filled container it went, and into the freezer. A little fishsicle, deep in a back corner. I almost tossed it a few times, thinking he'd forgotten about it, but just didn't want to take the chance.

Yesterday we heard that Tarzan, the dog of our neighbors and dear friends, died Monday. He had recently been diagnosed with cancer and went much more quickly than they thought he would. He wasn't just their dog. He was their everything for many years. As my neighbor said, "We don't have any other...children or anything. He was it for us."

I heard the news by e-mail yesterday. I asked the goob if he wanted to draw them a card. He said, "No, I'd rather talk to them in person." He asked me some questions, like what would they do with the body. He asked if they had buried him. He asked if Tarzan was too big to fit in a freezer. We talked about cremation and burials.

In the evening, when we saw they were home from work, we got ready to go over to visit. Goobie asked me to get his fish from the freezer. I asked if we could do it later, after we got back. He said he wanted to bring it with him. He said, "I want to show them that it's a normal process." My little scientist. I said, "Honey, they are adults, I think they understand that." He said, "I just want them to know that I understand how they feel." So we put Ish the Fish's tupperware

into a plastic bag and went next door.

It was a touching visit. The neighbors had red-rimmed eyes. Goobie told them he was sorry and showed them his dead fish. They showed us photos of Tarzan from puppyhood until recently, a long and happy 9 years or so.

Everybody smiled and sniffled and hugged. And then I brought Goobie and Ish the Fish back home. Ish went back in the freezer. Goobie went to bed. We chatted about life, nature, life cycles. He fell asleep on my arm. I stayed awake marveling about it all. Life, loss, and the love that weaves through it.

Good morning, Honey!

2005-04-01T08:05:00.000-08:00

How my hubby woke up this morning:
Me, yelling from the other room. "Oh my God, Goobie, I can't believe you would do this! What were you thinking? Dang it, Goobie, when Dad and I are asleep you're supposed to be sleeping! It's everywhere! Aaaargh. I can't believe you would do this!"

Goobie scurried into the bedroom where hubby was stirring. Hubby was all sleepy-eyed and confused. He immediately went into MadDad mode. "Goobie, what is Mom so mad about? GOOBIE! What did you do? Tell me NOW! Goobie, look at me!" Goobie replied, "While you and Mom were sleeping I painted my room. It looks really good!" I continued to rant in the background. I heard MadDad saying "WHAT? YOU WHAT?" and then "Hey, wait a second. It's April Fools Day, isn't it?"

Oh, baby, we got him good. We really had him going for a minute there. Classic. Now wait 'til Grandma sees the plastic spider we slipped into my purse before heading out to breakfast with her. It's her own fault. She already called to "cancel" saying Goob's favorite restaurant had closed. Never fool with the foolers.

The Kiss of Death

2005-03-31T08:27:00.000-08:00

First my hubby's machine last week. Now my brand new birthday screamer machine. "Catastrophic hard-drive failure."

I'm so bummed. All the stuff I'd had on his machine that I thought "It's okay, I backed it up to my machine!" All my photos from the last three months that I had finally deleted off the SD cards because I convinced myself that I was being a paranoid freak and there was no reason to keep the stuff on the cards when I had it all on my hard drive. My almost finished tax return. My client files.

Gone. All gone.
Sob.

A new drive is on the way. A new empty drive. Full of nothing but potential, temptation, and the reminder that I have a lot of work ahead of me.
Whimper.

At least I can bring this old laptop under the covers with me when I'm sulking.

tasty, too

2005-03-27T13:24:00.000-08:00

tasty, too
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

Looking for a new friend?

2005-03-25T14:09:00.000-08:00

This guy seems pretty friendly. I had a few of my friends translate some of his stuff for me.

Auch die Gartenarbeit muß gemacht werden und bei einem großen Rasen ist ein Rasentraktor sehr praktisch!

Garden work must be done, too, and when you have a big lawn, a lawn tractor is very handy!

Bei der schweren Arbeit wird es so heiß das ich mich einfach ausziehen muß!!!

It gets so hot doing all that hard work that I simply HAVE to undress!
The original string tangas

Here, he says this:

If you think I'm sexy, and you want my body . . .

Ich heiße Emil und komme vom schönen Bodensee!
My name is Emil and I come from the beautiful Bodensee! (a very nice lake in west Germany)

Jetzt fragt ihr euch sicher wie man überhaupt auf die Idee kommt so etwas zu machen. Mein Motto anderst sein als andere! Ich bin von Haus aus exhibitionistisch veranlagt und ich finde es einfach geil, sexy Unterwäsche zu tragen und mich dabei fotografieren zu lassen oder in der Öffentlichkeit nackt zu sein. Außerdem macht es mich total scharf, Männer und Frauen mit meinen heißen Outfits geil zu machen. Die meisten Männer regen sich auf wenn ihre Frauen begeistert sind so ist unsere Gesellschaft eben!!

Now I'm sure you are asking how anyone gets the idea to do such a thing. My Motto is to be differnt than others! I have by nature exibitionist tendencies and find it absolutely (now here, my translator friend says, "Geil can mean horny or cool - it is an everyday word nowadays here - I think in this case - it means BOTH!"), to wear sexy underwear and be photographed - or to be naked in public. In addition, it makes me totally hot to make men and women horny wearing my hot outfits. Most men get excited when their women are excited - so it is something for the community!

Die letzte Zeit bekomme ich sehr viele Angebote von Männern nun muß ich alle endtäuschen ich bin nicht Schwul und stehe nur auf Frauen Sorry schauen dürft Ihr gerne aber mehr nicht!!!

Lately I've gotten a lot of offers from men - now I must disappoint you all - I'm not gay and am only interested in women - Sorry - look all you want but you won't get anything more!

Now the toughest part -- Bikerfox or Emil? Bikerfox, or Emil...

I mean, really...

2005-03-20T20:16:00.000-08:00

... who in their right mind would ask somebody who has never used electric clippers to give them a haircut on a Sunday night? Sunday night. The next day is not only a workday, but Monday is the day all the good barbers are closed to recover from being on their feet Tuesday through Saturday.

So don't ask ME why my husband looks like he joined the military. He TOLD me "I want it just like The Goob's." The Goob is our son. He just got his first crew cut. He, of course, at the wise old age of five, had the good sense to visit an actual professional who is trained to do such things. And he got a lollipop.

My husband got no lollipop. But, as a junior high teacher, I'm sure he'll be treated to all kinds of sweetness for the next week or so.

sigh

2005-03-10T15:05:00.000-08:00

Nicest weather of the year,
people sit outside with beer.
No, not me, I'm stuck in here
with booger snout, ague, aching ear.
Why, dear gods of weather clear,
don't you see it brings no cheer?

I lay here with my robe pulled tight,
while outside is all love and light.
I want my body working right.
If not right now, then by tonight.

sigh

2005-03-07T09:22:00.000-08:00

ThroatCoat Tea, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. One, hack-hack, two, snort-snort, Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Intuition

2005-03-04T10:08:00.000-08:00

I'm one of those people who is always looking around when I walk. I like being aware of what's going on around me. My husband thinks I'm paranoid. Whatever.

Last night I took two girlfriends out to dinner to celebrate their recent birthdays. Walking home from downtown, bellies full of Pad Thai, my Spidey Sense kicked in. I had noticed a guy behind us. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up, he was kinda hunched over, and had an intense gait. He was doing this weird thing with his shoulder. He was gaining on us and it made me uncomfortable. I wanted to know what was up, so I made up an excuse to pull my friends to the side to get a better look and see if he would pass us.

My friends later admitted they thought I was being weird when I dragged them to the sculpture I used as my reason for changing direction. The guy turned, too. Just as I was getting a good look at him to try to figure out what was up, he started snorting, kinda grunting. A cop car zipped into the parking lot next to us. The guy took off running, the cop jumped out of his car and took chase, calling out to the guy. They were both swallowed up by darkness and we had no idea what followed.

We started walking again. Then there were lots of cop cars, cruising up and down the street we were on and the cross streets. They were looking for him. A few minutes later there were no more cop cars. We assume they found him. No clue what was up.

My friends were freaked out that they hadn't even noticed him. It was so weird. I made sure all my windows were latched before bed.

The Great Banana Mystery

2005-02-23T12:31:00.000-08:00

Often, when we walk downtown, we take a route that leads us past this pile of banana peels. It is constantly evolving, with new daily additions, and shrinkage due to decay. We always try to guess who the banana eater is. The peels are left in the very corner of a vacant lot, next to the giant rock wall of a place known to locals as Greystone Manor. We have seen fresh peels on morning walks, so the person must work mornings downtown. We see new specimens on weekends, so chances are they don't work in an office. Probably retail, maybe a restaurant?

Our son would like to go on a stake-out across the street from the peel pile. Not a bad idea. But, then, where's the fun in a mystery solved?

Clouds have lifted. Return of the muse.

2005-02-23T09:25:00.000-08:00

I fired a client the other day. Well, kind of. I told him I wouldn't do his newsletters anymore. I'll still do other things for him. I still really like him. He's still my friend. He's a really nice guy, but I was spinning my wheels. He wouldn't get me the content on time, kept changing his mind about things, and on and on. I'd block out time to work on it based on his promises to get me the content, and it wouldn't arrive. He was always changing meeting times, which in turn meant I'd have to keep changing my plans for childcare, since he could never meet during my normal working hours. I felt really bad making childcare arrangements and having to change them. Made me look flakey. It wasn't good. It was really bringing me down. So I made the call.

And suddenly, the clouds have lifted. Literally and figuratively. This morning I woke up and it wasn't raining anymore. A beautiful day awaited me. I felt like using my camera again after letting it gather dust for weeks. I felt like playing. I saw beauty in things I walked past. I laughed at a snail. I was me. And all it cost to get my life back was one phone call. (I'm trying not to think about the money. All it cost is one phone call. Stop thinking about the money.)

It's so worth it.

Love Birds

2005-02-22T12:36:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we went to see The Wild Parrots Of Telegraph Hill. It's a beautiful documentary about a rather bohemian guy who befriends and tends to a flock of wild parrots in San Francisco. Oh, what a story! Our son enjoyed every minute of it, as did we. We had to pause in the lobby of the theater when it was over for a family hug. Our little man was crying because he was so touched by the film. What a sweet and precious moment to share with him. I will never forget it.

I e-mailed the man in the film to tell him how much we enjoyed it and he e-mailed me right back. He had good news, but I won't share it because doing so would reveal part of the movie.

(Ah, crud, on re-reading, I realized I used the phrase "precious moment." Eek. I didn't mean to pay homage to those freaky little kids from the figurines and cards and old lady sweatshirts and crap.)

Thought o' the day

2005-02-13T20:57:00.000-08:00

Being a good communicator isn't about how you put the things you want to say, it's about how you put the things you don't want to say.

Ramble on, mama.

2005-02-11T19:43:00.000-08:00

Tire easily when having to actually walk to your destination from the parking lot? The answer could be as
close as your trunk!

If you think my entries are too middle-America and could use some spicing up, try it this way!

In other news...
I'm thinking about love. Valentine's Day is near. Ahhhh. My dear husband isn't really into it. He calls it "The Day of Corporate Devotion." But that's okay, I'm in love with him.

I have two main men in my life. One is big and one is small. The big one is loving and silly and wonderful. The small one is loving and silly and wonderful. In fact, the little one is the sweetest little thing ever. I can't even tell you more without getting all choked up. I am in L-O-V-E love.

Tip o' the day...

2005-02-07T11:23:00.000-08:00

Never do laundry without checking all your husband's pockets.

Unless you LIKE having chocolate dryer-baked into all your good clothes. One would think I would have learned this lesson by now, what with all the gum, Chapstick, and miscellaneous weirdness I've encountered in the dryer in the last 17 years. But, alas, silly me. I hang onto the dim hope that he will actually start listening to my pleas to empty pockets prior to putting clothes in the laundry, saving me the tantalizing experience of reaching into the pockets of moist skate shorts that have been worn until they reach a certain level of offensiveness, then tossed in a sweaty ball among the stinky socks in the laundry pile.

So, umm, if my pants are stained, please know that it's chocolate, not the grossness it resembles.

Hippies Use Side Door

2005-01-31T08:48:00.000-08:00

Hippies Use Side Door
Originally uploaded by Twinmama.

Love this pic from my friend Twinmama.

ChChCh

2005-01-18T18:57:00.000-08:00

chchch2
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

Gotta love it.

I married a maniac and other nonsense

2005-01-18T17:49:00.000-08:00

My husband has been rollerblading every rain-free day for about twelve years. He goes really fast over, around, through, beyond, all over. He is a maniac. I had suspicions of this when he insisted on going skating the day after he was knocked unconscious by a car. (He said the paramedics were really nice.) I had more suspicions when he couldn't shut up about how he couldn't wait to skate again after he got attacked by a dog while on his blades and got bitten and knocked down, resulting in the biggest gnarliest hematoma imaginable. But now I know he is a maniac. I have proof. He has started using his Palm Zire to make videos when he goes skating. He sent a link to said videos to some "wacky shit on the web" kinda place, and they are now letting people check out his videos. So, here ya go. Go crazy. See my man in action. Don't forget to turn up your speakers to partake of the tunes.

In other news... have you chosen your attire for Thursday? I have a suggestion. All us cool kids in mourning will be wearing them. Sigh.

Next... have I told you our son is the coolest kid in the universe? I just need to say it. For two reasons. One: Because he makes my heart sing. He makes everything...Groovy... and Two: Because now I'm going to laugh at him and it makes me feel better to say something nice first. He had his first basketball game Saturday. There's nothing like a gaggle of kindergarteners trying to shoot hoops. Especially when one of them is our darling uncoordinated, tangle-footed little goob. Oh, baby, I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. He loved every minute of it. Came home talking about how good he is, and how great the game was. I love that little goofball. I'm glad he's playing basketball. And I'm glad he's pursuing other interests, too, like chess. It's pretty tough to get hurt playing chess. Although he did tip his chair over at chess club last week...

I really do adore that boy. Last week I went to pick him up from school and said to one of the other moms, "Ya know, I was kind of in a funk all day, and then when it was time to come and get him I totally perked up because I couldn't wait to see him. And now that I'm here, I feel great." A bunch of momheads spun towards me, puzzled looks on the momfaces. One said, "Really? That's really neat. I can't remember the last time I looked forward to seeing one of my kids. Usually it's like, 'Oh, shit, it's already time to go get him.' I'm just so busy."

I sincerely hope I will never be too busy to want to see my sweet patootie. He is my sunshine. He makes me happy when skies are gray.

lead me not into temptation...

2005-01-06T13:42:00.000-08:00

...for I can find it myself, as they say.

I was coming home from the DMV and for the first time in years noticed a donut shop a block ahead of me. And suddenly, out loud, I said to myself, "I'm gonna f'ing have a f'ing donut!" I go years between donuts. And out of the blue, it hit me. I got all giggly, pulled in, and got myself a giant f'ing donut. I came home, cranked The Waifs on the stereo, poured a giant glass of water, and ate the thing. Okay, it was seriously fun. I felt all silly. Now, of course, I feel like I've been eating concrete and I'm pretty sure I have a knot in my head from the sugar, but it was fun for about 17 minutes. Damn, I'm getting so impulsive in my old age. WooHoo!

Also went to lunch with a friend at the Madonna Inn in the Copper Cafe. It is, ya know, where the fogies dine. And I am now a fogey, having recently passed my 40th birthday. I considered donning some polyester for my lunch expedition, but I had no orthopedic shoes to match, so I stuck with my normal "whatever's not in desperate need of washing" attire. I had an egg-salad sandwich. It dribbled. I was youngest among the "ladies who lunch" crowd in the place, yet the only one dribbling food. Sigh. Next time I will order something tidier, since, well, ya know, I'll be even older next time.

BTW, I just used the Blogger spellcheck for the first time. It does not recognize donut, giggly, fogey, or spellcheck.

Okey-dokey then

2005-01-01T10:39:00.000-08:00

Well, here we are. 2005. Our son thinks he stayed up past midnight at Grandma's. He had a great time thinking he was staying up that late. Today his father and I will milk it, explaining that he really should take a nap after staying up that late, telling him he'll have to go to bed early to make up for it, etc.

My mom and dad stayed for a waffle feast when they dropped the little man off this morning. We didn't ship him off so we could party last night. He just begged to stay at G&G's because they spoil him rotten. So the hubby and I stayed home, ordered pizza, laughed and frolicked. Oh, and we played with the little man's Hot Wheels. One of my favorite moments was sitting on the Santa rug at the top of the stairs waiting for the pizza guy. We were sipping wine, chatting about how lucky and grateful we are to have the life we're living. Our amazing son, so loving and sweet, intelligent and compassionate, hilarious, too. Our home in just the right location. Hubby's job, which he truly enjoys. Each other.

Christmas was nice. Celebrated a few days early with the in-laws, then at home on Christmas morning, followed by a jaunt to my parents' pad. My local sisters and their kids were there, too. Quite fun and lots of food. Then back home and a visit with hubby's parents. And lots of playing. Gotta love having a kid. So much to play with.

Got my own new toys, too, including a "Po' Gal's Pod" -- a Palm with a big ole SD card so I can not only organize and track my life, but choose from hundreds of groovy tunes as I do so.

My birthday's in a few days. Oh, my. Let's not go there quite yet.
Smoocharoo to all of yas.

Still shaking...

2004-12-27T07:06:00.000-08:00

...after the news about the giant earthquake and resulting tsunamis. I was going to make a trivial silly happy post about the holidays today. Now I just don't have it in me.

Peace and strength to those who need it.

Can I borrow fifty bucks?

2004-12-18T10:34:00.000-08:00

Not a bad deal.
Originally uploaded by Somebody's Mom.

survivor

2004-12-16T16:13:00.000-08:00

I shopped today. I drove 35 miles each way to get the Lego Knight's Kingdom king guy... which is a Target exclusive item, in-store only, not even available from their website. Those bastards. I, the earth loving anti-consumer, am nonetheless a devoted little elf, so I made the trek for the love of my darling child and at the expense of the planet.

Very tired now. Must go cleanse soul of bad strip mall vibes. Must rest. Maybe some yoga to recover from all that cart-pushing and parking lot fear, too.

How did I fall for this?

2004-12-11T10:54:00.000-08:00

...I was in the house all comfy in my robe. Hubby comes in from cleaning up the back yard and says, "Hey, I think I have something for you to take a picture of out here." He makes me put on my rubber boots (with my pink robe) and follow him. As we approach the back of the lot, he says, "I mean, it's not Jesus or the Virgin Mary or anything, but look!" and proceeds to show me...
this.
In his excited words, "It's a piece of dog poop that's shaped like a weenie viewed from underneath!"

Welcome to my life.

P.S. I used to have the photo here, but I couldn't cope with looking at it anymore. So you can click if you're brave.