6. SIX. That's six. Years.

WOW - 6 years of no posting!
I miss it.  I actually can't believe it hasn't been taken away or deleted by Blogger.  There are some fun memories on this thing.  About the cat, stealing hairbands.  My kids just being LITTLE kids.  Life.  Life was, and is, good.

My children are now 19 and 17.  The 19 year old is a 1st year Film Student.  No one says Freshman anymore apparently.  My 17 year old is a Junior in high school and on the road to getting ready to apply to colleges in the fall.  A lot of life happened in 6 years.  I was also diagnosed with MS during that 6 years - 2013 to be exact.  My sweet brother in law passed away in 2010 and my sweet father in law passed away last year (2017).  On my birthday.

We have been on cruises.  Played in Universal Studios Orlando.  That was a blast seeing my kids in Harry Potter robes and watching the folks in the park treat them like they were actually students at Hogwarts.  Julia was a Slytherin.  Legare was a Griffindor.

We moved from the house with the Red Roof to a house closer to town.  It has a pool in the back yard.  I will admit, that we don't use the pool as much as we should, but last spring, a screened porch was added to the back of our house to make it easier to get to the back yard and the pool.  So, fingers crossed the use of the pool will go up!

I used to get irritated that loading pictures to the blog posts were trying.  I wonder with all the new technology if it's gotten any easier?  Not sure that I'll try it with this post.

I have tried to kick start posting again several times.  Always to no avail.  I will try again.  I'll do things like link my daughters short films from you tube.  Maybe my Instagram account so you can see some pics.  Maybe I'll just ramble about my thoughts on whatever is crossing my mind as I post.

Anyway.  I've posted.  I will try to update some pics and other info.  Have a great day!

A Few Words to Catch Up

Again, it has been a while, but things are going well. Currently I am waiting to go get in carpool line to pick up several little girls to transport to a 13th, joint, birthday party.

Julia turned 13 in September and due to being cast as Betty Parris in Arthur Miller's "The Crucible" we didnt' get to really celebrate. So she has joined in with two other of her friends to have a joint 13th birthday party. The whole class (20 people - boys and girls - plus two others - 20) are being transported to Edisto Beach where they will have a "dance" party followed by a game of Man Hunt.

The boys will be transported back and will leave at 10:00 pm and the girls (and several of us Mom's) will spend the night. I am in charge of lunch tomorrow. After lots of questions and turned down suggestions, I finally got from Julia that we should have Nutella and croissants and chicken salad. I have added grapes and potato chips and sodas, and I think I will have a hit of a lunch. I'm only feeding 13 girls and 5 parents, so I should be ok.

Julia did a fantastic job in The Crucible. The whole play was crafted extremely well. The directing, the set, the acting. It was great. I saw it several times and feel as if it were like stew or soup - it got better the longer it went.

The job is going well, 7th and 5th grades are going well. Legare decided he hated football this year. Could be a lazy thing. Could be that due to his birthday he was put on a team that had none of his classmates - only older school mates. He was the youngest boy on a team of 6th and 7th graders. And one of the biggest guys. And their team ended up being one of the smallest ones in the league - which means they didn't even earn a first down until the end of the season and finally scored points in one of the last games. They did win their last game though - having earned several first downs and scoring 3 touchdowns.

Anyway - time to go get in carpool line. Maybe some pictures later.

Oh, My!

Several things to blog about...

The most ornery thing is that my 12 year old's hormone's are really starting to kick in! Did I say that they are starting to "kick in"? I really meant - they are "ROLLING OVER US ALL WITH A STEAM ROLLER". Her included.

How do I know they're kick in/rolling over us, you say? Well - she can't keep her room clean for starters (even if I give it to her clean to start with). She has also shed more tears, thrown more daggers and awful looks, has had more attitude, and given Legare more undeserved crap in the last two weeks than she has done cumulatively for the last 2 years.

I thought hormones effected you for a short period each month. Mine certainly do. But this all month long BS is for the birds.

But then, if I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, I could say it's all because of her diet. All she's eaten lately is citrus. Grapefruits at breakfast, oranges at lunch (among other things) and at snack. it's almost like she's put herself on the grapefruit diet - and she doesn't even know what a Grapefruit Diet is!

So, we are all alive. All in tact, and surviving the storm that is Julia. I know it will get better - I'm already seeing glimpses!

The awful thing that happened last Friday (or RIP Oscar)

It was approximately 6:00am and I realized that I was awake, and awake because I had heard a funny sound.

A few minutes later I heard the sound again and it sounded vaguely familiar. Kind of like the sound that your nose sometimes makes after you've blown it. You know the sound - kind of squeaky - like your nostrils have somehow stuck together at the end of the blow. I instantly felt sorry for Julia - I was thinking she hadn't taken her allergy medicine and was paying for it as she woke.

Then I heard it again...this time it sounded like one of my cats crying out (well, kind of crying out). It was disturbing enough that I jumped up to see what was going on. Was this Julia, or was it a cat? And if it was a cat, which one was it?

As I flew down the hall, I noticed that Julia was sitting up in her bed. I stopped at her door and asked if she was ok. She quickly responded that she was, but that something was wrong with Oscar.

As I rounded the bed, I could see him crouching in the floor. I instantly thought he was dead. Then he looked up at me, with the wildest look in his eyes, and let out the sound again. At this point I also noticed that his tongue was kind of thick looking and starting to turn blue as it fell out of the side of his mouth. My thought instantly took me to thinking he was choking on a fur ball. Having worked for a VET in college, office practices and an old Red Cross class took me over as I grabbed him and began probing his throat to see if I could dislodge the hairball that I knew he must be choking on. Imagine my surprise when I couldn't find anything.

I kept on trying to find a blockage, feverishly probing my fingers down his throat. I then began giving him my version of a feline Heimlich maneuver followed by some mouth to mouth and chest compressions. For a split second I just knew I was going to save him. Why else would I have thought to do all of this? My children watched me acting like a fiend with wide eyes. I was calling to Oscar, begging him to stay with us. I wasn't admitting to myself that he had just died in my hands. But he really was gone.

I began crying, all the while checking to make sure that he hadn't miraculously started breathing again. He was like a warm little rag doll in my hands. Felix looked on with a spooked expression. I was sobbing in the floor. Legare was sobbing with me. Julia and Bryan both seemed bewildered and unbelieving of what they had just witnessed.

I then placed my sweet Oscar into a used USPS "Priority Mail" box and kept checking to make sure he wasn't really breathing. Then, my sweet husband took my shell shocked children to school (I sent teachers an email about the mornings happenings) and he came back home to gather up Oscar and take him to the farm to bury him. Oscar now lies in peace in "Pet Row" next to all of the other pets...Drake, Poogan, Calhi, Deacon, and a friends dog whose name I don't recall.

I haven't dwelt too much on it - I still have a cat and two other dogs to love and care for - no time for miring down in sadness. I have shed a few more tears. One when I was reading a Harry Potter book and they described someone's tongue hanging out of the mouth as they struggled, and again tonight as I put together this post.

Oscar was a great pet. He was a bit aloof, but he always purred when petted. He was also very quick to reveal his tummy for you to pet whenever you began petting him elsewhere. Did I mention that his fur felt like mink? Well, it did. He let our neighbor's child carry him around like a Raggedy Ann doll and never seemed to really mind it. Oscar also loved jumping on the back of the couch when I was sitting on it. He would not sit beside me (or on me as Felix often does), instead, he would take that flat spot at the top of his head and rub my head with his several times before he would settle down by my head to purr and sit with me for a while. He could always be found napping somewhere - he loved napping. He would take month long turns at which ever spot he chose. He loved Julia's bed the most, but frequented everyone's. There were lots of times I would wake in the night to the soft feeling of Oscar snuggling down beside my shoulders or head.

Oscar was a truly special cat. I guess that's why I tried so in vane to save him. He wasn't sick (to my knowledge), and certainly didn't act ill. This came out of no where and smacked us all in the face. But life goes on. We rescued him from the pound in '05 when he was around 4 or 5 years old (or so they say). Of course this means that we offered him a much longer life than he was going to have at the shelter (this was NOT a no kill shelter). By best guesses he was 9 or 10. Given the way shelters like to underestimate ages to get animals adopted, he could have been much older than that.

Rest in Peace Sweet Oscar. You were a wonderful part of our family!

July was All of Sudden a Long Time Ago!

July - that seems so long ago. It was a time and place where there was warm air and swimming. And a new puppy in the house. I know I have no readers left to speak of, but I'm going to try to get started again. We'll see how well I do. Please leave a comment regarding some of the things you want me to write about. The list of things that have been happening in life are all up for grabs - cast a vote - let's see if there's anyone still out there - lol!

So, what have I been doing since July?

August - creating and organizing a "mobile" storefront for the school store while the building is under renovation. This included buying a rolling "tool cart" from Sears (Craftsman - that later need replacing due to faulty wheels), and filling "school supply" orders for the 200+ students who have ordered them. Trying to plan a Happy Birthday for my son, Legare and also celebrating with my niece, Eliza - they share the same birthday. School Started.

September - the month got kicked off the my brother-in-law's death. He was 40 and passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. He laid down on his bed and never woke. Julia's birthday was the day after his funeral. Life has seemed very surreal since then. This horrible family event was quickly followed by my dad's "roof" accident. Short story is that he fell off of a roof, got tangled in the ladder on the way down and compound fractured his tibia and fibula. This required emergency surgery and a rod placed in the tibia. I was also asked to be a board member for the fledgling theater company, "Threshold Repertory Theater". Oh, and I started a part time job. (this month left me feeling kind of numb).

October - My husband and brother-in-law's birthdays (back to back - 10th and 11th). Legare's football team is in the championship bowl and won. Bryan and Legare have taken up hunting with some guys from the team.

November - the first Thanksgiving without Thomas. My Dad was given permission to "toe touch". My first quail hunt - pretty cool!

December - Threshold RT held their first production (I was so busy and numb I didn't even attend - not that I didn't want to, I just couldn't produce the extra time anywhere in my schedule). Julia had her first round of exams (ever). Her lowest grade was an 88. Pretty good, I say. Watching her study was an event in, and of, itself. The first Christmas without Thomas. A first (and possibly only) snow of the season that happened the day after Christmas.

And that's about it. Oh, and I have been pretty tired and kind of convinced that my thyroid may be to blame. So I went to the doctor. He ran some blood work and all came back fine. I have a swollen gland in my neck, and because the blood work came back fine, he's sending me for a biopsy of the node. I go for the surgical prelim on Monday. This weekend our family will be spending New Year's with some dear friends who have invite us to join them at Sea Island, Georgia. Bryan and I will go the the ball at the Cloister. I'm kind of looking forward to this, except that Legare's new Leopard Gecko, Fleck, should probably be cared for - as well as Eloise. She's likely to scarf all of the food in one day instead of letting the free feeder do its work. I'll have to get on seeing if someone can take care of her and Fleck.

So - in a nut shell - that's what's been consuming my life since July. I know you have all been busy too. Comment or otherwise respond and I promise to post sooner than later! Welcome back, and thank you for coming back, AGAIN, to check to see if I've posted. You knew I would sooner than later!

- A

Our New and Furry Family Member

This is the (sleepy) face we met this morning. We went looking for puppies and were a bit disappointed when we got there and only males were left. The owner promised there was one more female puppy and that her favorite place to sleep was wedged under the ramp that went into their storage shed.

Well she was there. DEEP back against the leading edge of the ramp and DEEP asleep. We finally got her out and it was very difficult to have her break her puppy coma. We decided we loved her and wanted her. The cheer the kids gave to Bryan when we had him on speaker phone making sure this is what we wanted was one like I haven't heard. And I've heard some good ones.



So we got her home and she perked right up. Excited to see her new surroundings and her new Big Sis Willis (our adult black lab). She frolliced and romped with Willis and showed Willis a toy so they could play. And then.....
And there she has been (for about 2 hours). I hope this doesn't mean she'll be up all night.
We haven't named her yet, but we have a list started.

Anyone want to add your 2 cents to the list? We're open for suggestions.

No More Mt. Laundry

Since the New Year, I've been doing a load of laundry a day (this I learned from my Momma). Doing things this way usually includes 1 load of towels a week. And believe it or not, this actually makes it feel like I'm not really doing laundry at all. I highly recommend giving it a try.

Well, last week we had a "head lice scare" and everything in the house got washed, including EVERY towel, last Wednesday.

Well, fast forward to this morning. It was time for towels again, and I thought it looked like the pile was bigger than it should be. As I begin placing the towels in the washing machine, I realized that there were WAY TO MANY TOWELS TO FIT ALL OF THEM INTO THE MACHINE (did that look like maybe I was a bit frustrated? Well, I was). After I did a quick count, I realized that my small family (2 adults, 2 pre-pubescent children) had dirtied 13 bath towels and numerous wash cloths and hand towels. This didn't even included the 3 kitchen towels I wanted to clean. With all of these smaller towels, I'll round 13 bath towels to a total number of 15 (even though, all-in-all there were more, I figured the smaller ones added up to a total of 2 bath towels.

15. That's almost 4 towels a piece. And I think most of this excess is being fueled by the children's use of towels. Is it just me, or does 13 (much less 15) seem a bit excessive?
I know what my "Parts of the Day" will be tonight around the dinner table.

20 Years Later and I'm Finally Not Looking Back Quite so Hard

Today used to be a day that I watched for on the calendar. Watched for it. Waited for it to. And dreaded its arrival. The whole month of February used to cause me lots of stress (for many reasons that happened in a succession of years after the thing that happened on the 21st).

20 years ago, the 21st was a Tuesday, I believe. I was at college and was getting ready for a 4 way mixer (2 sororities and 2 fraternities)...it was going to be a blast - we even had a t-shirt printed for this one! I had eaten dinner and went back to my room to primp. My mother called. We chatted about the goings on of the day, and the Mixer that awaited me that night. Her call waiting beeped, and since this was the days before caller ID, she decided to let me go get finished with my party preparation and go see who was calling on the other line. So we said our "I love you's" and went about our ways.

I arrived at the party, began drinking some beer (not quite legal, but I was close enough know one said anything), dancing and taking pictures with my friends with the "Flash" (photographer) who was there. The party hadn't been going for too long when someone told me that Bryan was looking for me.

Now this took me by surprise, because we weren't mixing with Bryan's fraternity. Why in the world was Bryan here? This was really odd. They wouldn't let him into the party because he was not an invited guest, so I had to go the front for him. The look on his face was very serious. My mind kept wondering why he looked so seriously serious. We hadn't been arguing, no fighting, but my mind kept wondering why in the world he was picking a mixer as the appropriate place to break up with me. And what had happened for him to even want to break up with me?

I simply couldn't get my mind around it. Plus, I had just started catching a buzz, he was going to ruin that for sure.

So, as I get to the front, show him my surprise at him being there, and then try to get him to come into the party, he gently tells me that he needs to talk to me. I say o.k., let's talk. To which he tells me we should probably go outside. He's being very tender, not at all like he's getting ready to dump me, but my mind is still on the "what is he going to do, dump me?" train of thought.

So we go to the parking lot, and he somehow tells me (this is kind of blurry) that my dad has had a heart attack and that we need to go home.
....
....
....

Wait. Did he just say that my dad had a heart attack?! I was just on the phone with my mother and she didn't say anything (turns out that call waiting was the frantic phone call from a collegue of my father's that they had called 911 because they thought he was having a heart attack). Why would Bryan know and not me? Is Dad alive? When did this happen? How am I going to get home? Do I need to call my mom? Where is my mom? Is my brother with her?

Oh, so many questions. And Bryan didn't know how to answer them. All he could say is that my mom had called and needed him to come get me so that I could come home. At the time she called Bryan, Bryan thought Dad was alive. But I could tell he wasn't really sure.

So somehow I find myself back in my room on the phone trying to reach my my mom. I somehow get to the CICU waiting room. I don't recall how I got the information to even get the number to that phone or how I even knew which hospital to call. Bryan may have had that information. Before I can actually get to Mom, I remember that my Godparent's answered and told me that he was alive. They asked me how I was and then passed the phone to my brother. I knew I would get the straight scoop from him. He was 4 years younger than me and a Junior in High School at the time.

Joe sounded awful. Simply awful. He told me that Dad was alive. But when I asked if I needed to come home (tonight or could it wait until tomorrow), without hesitation he said that I had to come home RIGHT NOW.

Oh no. I don't even remember if I got to talk with mom or not. Everything got really blurry.

My mind started racing. I had a lot to get together so that I could get on the road ASAP. Bryan has said he would drive me ...I didn't need to be driving. Not only because I had recently had a few beers, but because it was late and it was a 4 hour drive to get home. I had to let my roommate and suitmates know that I was going home and that I didn't know when I would come back. Oh, and that I also wouldn't be attending our Sorority's formal in Atlanta this weekend.

I think I finally got home somewhere around 4:00 am. And when I say home, I mean the hospital. The 4 hour ride hadn't taken quite that long - Bryan had a good lead foot. Don't forget that 20 years ago was before all college kids had cell phones (it was even a big deal for parents to have cells at this particular time), so during this long ride home I had no updates on Dad's condition. Had he gotten better? Had things turned sour? Or had he really been dead this whole time and no one wanted to tell me over the phone?

I had no idea what the news was going to be when I arrived at the hospital.

I found my way through the maze of halls and up to the CICU, where the waiting room was full of loved ones. I think Momma and Joe were in the room (but they could have been somewhere else at this particular moment in time). I think my Godparent's were in the room. But I really don't remember who was there. I think it was Joe that I saw first. I think I burst into tears. Please, someone tell me if my Daddy is still here! That was all I could think.

I was relieved when I found that he was still with us. And apparently doing fine. I think there were more tears. The nurse found out that I was "the patient's" daughter, and she broke the "only every 4 hours" visitor rule and let me go in to see Dad. Mostly because Dad had been asking a lot about me. He was worried about how long (and how late) Bryan and I were on the road, and she knew it would ease his stress level (which would be good for his heart). So, the wonderful nurse let me in the see my Daddy.

My mom was the true Steel Magnolia. She did all the right Mom things. Hugs and kisses and lots of reassurance that Daddy was fine. She also warned me about all of the hoses, tubes, needles and machines that Dad was hooked up to. She didn't want me to be alarmed. She also cautioned me that I needed to be careful if I hugged him because his chest was burned from the 11 (yes, that was ELEVEN) different times they had to hit him with the defibrillator to keep him from leaving us.

Holy Cow! This was a much bigger heart attack than I was thinking it was.

So as I enter the room, I am relieved to see Daddy smiling at me. I think we're all a bit upset, but I was trying very hard not to be crying when I went into his room. I didn't want to upset him (most of you know what a great crier I am).

And Mom was right, there were more tubes, hoses, cuffs, and beeping machines than I had ever seen in anyone's hospital room before. And it was HOT in there. They had apparently pumped so much blood thinner in Dad, that at this point, his blood was running ICE. I swear it was every bit of 80 degrees. And even under about 4 thermal blankets he was still shivering.

Of course I hugged and kissed Daddy. Deep inside I was kind of afraid to touch him, I don't want to hurt him, or knock covers off of him and make him cold. He and Mom showed me how strong his heart looked on the monitor. He showed me where all of the monitor leads were hooked, and the bruises and burns on his chest (while kind of laughing I might add). And mostly he just looked like my dad. Only he was hooked up like he was in an ER-type TV show.

And then it hit me. I almost lost my Dad. I could have arrived and found my dad not here. At this point I had been running on adrenaline since about 9:00 or 10:00 (whatever time it was when Bryan came to get me). And the adrenaline decided to turn in to a rush of relief. And this rush decided to come over me as I stood there in Dadd's room. And I almost passed out.

That's right. I was trying not to stress out Dad, and here I go, almost monkey-ing in his room. I'm going to blame it on the heat in there. Did I tell you how hot it was in there? After I got a cold cloth (and I think some smelling salts, but I may be remember a part of a different hospital room story that I'll try to remember to write about later), I got myself together enough to try to keep it light and laugh at myself so that Dad wouldn't have to be worried about me of all things. And that's when I tried to have a moment of comic relief. And that's when I outed with, "Daddy, you know if you had done this 24 hours earlier, I could have saved the $6.00 I spent today at the Laundry Mat." (of course meaning that I could have brought all of that dirty laundry home instead.) I think it worked - we all laughed.

And that is what we still all laugh about today. Although today almost went by without me calling Dad. I actually saw him today and forgot to tell him Happy February Birthday. And when we did talk, he reminded me that next year he'll be legal. Good Ol' Dad!

20 years after a major heart attack, with no other cardiac events to follow, is a pretty big milestone I say. Along the way, he stopped smoking, was invited to DC to receive the Ecotrin Heart Award a few years later (the actual award was an amber colored, Bacarat crystal heart), and has lived to see both of children get married and become parents.

Happy February Birthday, Daddy!

(And if anyone wonders the reason for the heart attack...in short, an allergic reaction. To drinking non-stop coffee and smoking non stop packs of cigarettes as he got through the long hours of working around the clock to keep a television station on the air - and equipment repaired in it - after Hurricane Hugo hit in September, just a few months before.

It was so much nicotine and caffeine that he had basically saturated his body and his heart finally had an allergic reaction to all of it. No blockages. No bi-passes. Just no more nicotine and no more all day caffeine.)

There's No Place Like Home

Suzy went home today! Yay, Suzy!
She is my friend's niece who was hit in the head by the pine tree while building a snowman last Saturday. To read her story, go to this journal on Caringbridge.

Miracle Worker Pictures

Whew...the play is over. I didn't realize how much time I actually had during the day until I got it back. I miss it a bit (the play that is...I know Julia does too), and I'm so thrilled that Julia was able to be a part of a performance that was truly a great piece of art. I have uploaded a few pictures to share with you. Of course, I wasn't able to take photos during the performances (I was able to attend 3, I was backstage for 3 others). It was a fantastic first time experience.

Here goes.....

These are the directors, the main director, Mark, is an attorney by day, avid actor (you should have seen his bio) and director by night. He had a remarkable attitude and Mary, the Assistant Director and Stage Manager, was equally wonderful. This photo was taken after the final performance.

Helen Keller, the cutie with the blue bow, her "Mom and Dad and Brother" and Annie Sullivan to the left. They were wonderful. It was weird seeing "Helen Keller" being such a normal girl, smiling, laughing and giggling with the rest of the girls during the intermissions when she was able to come sit with us. Sometimes "Brother Keller", aka Tyler would come back stage and sit too. The girls loved him, he was constantly making them laugh.
Julia as her "Old Crone" character standing in the door that she opened during the play to say her lines. She was a Perkins Institute Girl (the school for the Blind that Annie Sullivan came from), and these are some of the friends she made standing with her. She started as a Perkins Girl, and ended the play as a Crone...that's why she looks so creepy. I had several people say she "looked like a booger" and some others say she was a great "Creepy Girl". She was thrilled when she "got" her Crone voice. The director told the three crones that they should play around with what they thought their crone sounded like, and bring him their interpretations. He really left it up the them to come up with the sound and then he directed their delivery.
The smiling Crone. Those are just odd shadows on the dress, there were no stains. Notice the boots. I think she was as excited about the boots as anything. We had to purchase them (the stage/wholesale discount of $11.00), so they are now in her closet. She can't wait to wear them again.
This was actually taken during the curtain call. The girls who saw me take it gave me grief for taking pictures during the performance. My defense was that there was no flash, so they shouldn't have cared, ha.
The theater is very small. There are only two dressing rooms that the principle actors used (and there were a number of costume changes for them), and since there were 9 girls, they got to have a little spot in the props warehouse. Can you say COLD. This was during the run of our unseasonal 20 degree nights. We couldn't get the space heater to get above 55 degrees. Lots of blankets were in use. This shot is in the back part of the warehouse...we didn't go back that far, I just thought it would give a great impression of the kind of place we were being housed.
Julia putting on her creepy makeup - lots of white powder and purple under the eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks.
Cute little Solomon. He was the only little boy hanging with all of the girls. He is 9. He was in charge of the dog that was in the show. He is Annie and Helen's servant that stays with them while they are in the garden house. He is in his "sleeping clothes" here..

Here's Ryan, the dog. He was precious. Much cuter than the picture shows. He was also very gas-y. Lot's of HEAVY air biscuits. Back stage mothers were also in charge of walking him during the two intermissions. We got to go through the door in the back of the warehouse and walk him in the cobblestone, foliage lined alley. He was a hit with the actors and the audiences. He was "Momma Keller's" dog in real life. He won the role after the pretty, yellow lab blew it during opening night. He was never on stage when the house lights were all the way down and when he came out the first time and the audience oohed and aahed at him, he started barking. Annie Sullivan did a great job of doing an ad lib around it.Julia and some of the girls hanging out, waiting. In her Crone makeup.
All of the girls. Hanging out again. Waiting some more.
I'm sure I'll upload some more later, but this should do for now.

Oh, on a total other note, this week I got my hair done. I toned my blonde (I used to really be blonde without any help), and darkened it up. I like it. Only the people at my Bible Study noticed. I guess no one noticing (including husband) must mean it looks fine, otherwise I'm sure he would have said otherwise. Maybe a picture of that soon. Oooh, and of us playing in the snow we're supposed to get tonight. We NEVER get snow that sticks (2000 was the last time and 1989 before that). How exciting!

Lost and Found

I occasionally misplace things.
I am usually pretty good at retracing my steps. Every now and then I enlist the help of others.
For instance....on the way to the hospital, I decided NOT to take my phone in, too much for my loved ones to keep up with, so I left it in Bryan's car.

After remembering this 5 days later, I ask Bryan to look for it for me in his car (bending at the waste was slightly uncomfortable). He didn't find it. I get slightly panicked, but mostly sad that I can't find it and will have to rebuild the numbers that were on the sim card.

Guess who found the phone? My daughter (after I bribed her $10).
Guess where she found it? Under the seat in the car - where she could see it from her seat in the back.

So, this weekend, as my children get their Godparents, officially, I wanted the camera to snap some shots. I ask Bryan to go to my car to get it; telling him it's in there somewhere - I had it when I picked up Legare from camp and didn't bring it in.

He looks. He can't find it. So I go behind him and look under the seats. I found it today (a day too late). Guess where it was???? In the middle of the back seat, behind the other stuff he moved on top of it while looking for it. I didn't look on top of seats this weekend thinking he did - I looked under them.

So I guess we are both to blame. However, I think I need to either stop asking him to find stuff - cause he never does - or we need to invest in some kind of "How to Find Things" 10 step program for him.

Got Something!

Sleepwalking apparently runs in my family.

I remember being a kid laughing at my younger brother when we would waltz, zombie-like, into the family room and plant himself on the couch. We would try to engage him in conversation to no avail, tell him to go back to bed, and he would disappear back to his room. Most of the time after a trip to the bathroom.

This happened a lot when I was growing up. Luckily he never hurt himself, he just provided laughter for us all. One night when I was in high school I woke to Joe walking in my room and taking a stance with one hand on the wall - leaning in. It looked like he was getting ready to go to the bathroom. I said something to him and he relayed that he was hunting and had to pee. I quickly got him to go down the hall to the bathroom and told him that my room was not the forest nor was my wall a tree to lean behind. He kept these kinds of episodes up through his high school career. I know this because when he was in high school he frequently came to visit me in college and one night it happened again. He was staying in my dorm room and I found him, sleeping, "going" out of the dorm room window . And we were seven floors up. Luckily it was wee hours of the morning (ooh no pun intended, but I'll take it) so no one saw him or got showered because of him. I'm guessing these things kept up right through college too - though I wasn't there to witness them.

Fast forward to my family now. My daughter is as good at sleepwalking as Joe was, though she looks much more Zombie-like than Joe ever did. And like Joe, most of her sleep walking involves the brain trying to get her to the bathroom.

Julia has actually come into our room after several hours of sleep, gone into the shower, turned on the water and almost stepped in. Clothes and all. After stopping her and taking her back to her own bedroom, I found a pristine-ly made up bed. Although she was sleeping, she thought it was morning and made her bed and was heading to the shower. Funny thing is she doesn't usually shower in the mornings.

Well, last night, Legare made the sleep walking trek into our room - heading for the bathroom. We encouraged his zombie self to go back to his bathroom. I assumed, given the family history of sleepwalking, that the bathroom was his ultimate goal.

I listened for him to get into the bathroom - hoping to hear the "tinkle" sound knowing that with a sleep walker he may not get to his proper destination. Well I couldn't hear anything for a minute. Then I heard cabinets and drawers opening and closing in the bathroom. I decide it was probably a good idea to go see what my little zombie was up to.

As I get to the bathroom, the light was off but I felt like I could see something in there. After I flipped on the light I realized that there was nothing. Then it dawned on me that I couldn't push the door all the way open. Well, behind the door I found my 8 year old zombie ........NAKED.

I got a little worried about what he had done with his underwear. Was it in the floor? In the toilet? After trying to find out why he was naked he told me that he was in the process of getting his underwear and proceeded to go cabinet diving under the sink.

I knew that he was sleepwalking and making no sense, but he was getting me confused. And worried for my pipes. I don't think they could handle a pair of underwear.

After much prodding and questioning, I finally pleaded with him to please wake up and help me figure out where his underwear was. I don't think he woke, but we went into his bedroom to get him some more underwear anyway. Then...I saw them. They were in a little, wet pile beside his bed. Mind you, they had been dry and on his person as he started his journey into my bedroom at the beginning of this story.

So then it dawns on me that maybe he was "hunting and in the woods" when he got to his bedroom. So I started looking around and was floored when I saw that he had peed "ON" his bed. Not "IN" his bed, but on it. Apparently the bed was his tree in the woods last night. The cover was saturated, but it didn't get down to the bottom sheet.

Gotta keep your guard up with those sleepwalking Zombies. They'll go in the woods every time.

Two Things...

1) I did, in fact, get to wear a shoe today on my "bad toe" foot. Yay! I could tell I had a shoe on it - just a tad uncomfortable,. But, A SHOE! How exciting after 10 days of No Shoe.
So if that crazy lollipop owl asks how many days it takes to get to wear a shoe after a toe nail removal...the answer is 11. 11.

2) Overheard at supper after my 4th grader's Christmas performance tonight: (background: the whole family, cousins, aunts, uncles, Grandparents all out to eat yummy Mexican) the precocious three year old comes to tell me Hannah Montana has another name. And that name is: Miley Sinus.

You laughed just a little bit didn't you? I did. I made her say it again, and again to make sure I heard right and because it was just so DAMN cute (or funny - whichever way you look at it).

Gratitude is Our Attitude!

That's the title of the literary work that my 10 year old daughter brought home on Monday. "Gratitude is Our Attitude" is the class motto and yes, the teacher weaves that through everything they do. It's fantastic.

Well, since Thanksgiving is tomorrow, I thought I would share this piece of work with you. For the assignment the class was given the title and told to come up with a list of at least 7 things they were grateful for. And since they were in computer class, this is typed and alternating colors are used on each line. I'll try to duplicate it here. These colors are very "fall" like.

Gratitude is Our Attitude!

I am grateful for...
..God because he created me.
..my dog because she's a friend when I'm alone.
..my friends because they comfort me when I'm sad.
..my family because they're always there for me.
..my shelter so I'm not out side.
..scientists for all they do for us.
..nature for fresh air.
..my grandparents for everything they've done for me.
..technology because I can learn more.
..everyone for everything.


That pretty much sums it up, don't you think? Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I'm grateful for your friendship and for those I don't know, that you stop by and read.

Happy Birthday, Eliza!

We love you!

Aunt Annie, Uncle Brianny,
Yiyah and Bee

Help us Celebrate

Our 14th wedding anniversary is coming up on Wednesday (July 2nd).
We are trying to figure out where to go eat to celebrate. This is one of the few times of the year when we really go spend money at a good restaurant.

Bryan and I went over a big list this afternoon in the pool while we were cooling off from yard work. We are so lucky to be here in Charleston to have so many wonderful places to chose from.

14 years. It's finally starting to sound like a long time. Even longer when you put into play the fact the we had been dating 7 1/2 years by the time we were walking down the aisle on that bright, hot (but not too hot), July 2nd day. It had rained ever so slightly that morning. Which made the humidity come out for a brief time a few hours before the ceremony. But by the time we met each other at the alter it was a typically hot, gorgeous, summer afternoon.

I can remember that for no particular reason I was so afraid that Bryan wasn't going to show up. He is not the "running away" type. And he had never so much as acted anything but totally sure about marrying me. But there is always that one person who is left at the alter. Be it the day of, the week of, or some time shortly prior to the wedding. I had a friend whose brother re-thought his decision to get married a few days before his wedding. And I was, for some reason, afraid that this was going to be my fate too. I felt as if the odds had to run out somewhere.

Earlier in the day, while I was at the brides maid's luncheon, Bryan's father called Poogan's Porch to speak with me. I thought it was odd that restaurant staff came into our room looking for "the bride". I of course thought that maybe Bryan (or someone) had sent some kind of present for me. How exciting!

When they told me I had a phone call my curiosity was peaked. When I reached the phone I found my soon to be father-in-law on the other end. Still I'm thinking something neat must be getting ready to take place.

Instead. Out of his mouth come these awful words: "Anne. We've lost Bryan. He's gone."

WHAT!!!!!????? Is all I can think and say.

What has happened. I can't believe Bryan has died on our wedding day. Or wait...has he left town? Getting as far away from our wedding as possible? Surely not.

These were really the thoughts that were going through my head.

My father in law must hear the panic in my voice. I'm still not sure of what I was hearing, so erring on the side of "there's no way he has really died on our wedding day", I mumble something along the lines of "What do you mean? What happened? Where is he?"

He then proceeds to tell me that he was following Bryan to the hotel to drop off our bags and a car for the morning. Bryan got through the light, but he (my father-in-law) got stopped by it.

What he actually said was more like this: "Bryan shouldn't have gone through the stop light. Now he's gone". Or something similarly scary sounding when you're already jumping to the wrong conclusions. At this point, my mind's eye is seeing Bryan being blindsided by some large truck - I was starting to really feel a panic set in.

He then asks me if I can tell him where we're staying that night after the reception (we had told no one - there are a lot of practical jokers in our families and circle of friends).

I was so confused. Why did he need to know this if Bryan was gone? Turned out, he'd be able to find Bryan there, he just wasn't sure where he was going since no one had told him where we were staying. He was simply following Bryan, and Bryan had done a great job of driving away from him. Forgetting his dad had no idea where we were staying.

I know this sounds crazy, but this was a time before there were cell phones in every one's pocket. Really, most people didn't have one. And if they did, this was certainly a time before anyone would have brought it with them into a luncheon. Since reaching Bryan by cell wasn't an option, calling me at the restaurant from some pay phone somewhere was the only thing to do short of showing up at the luncheon. Wouldn't that have sent me over the edge?

What a quick panic attack I had. We all laughed about this at the luncheon. But I can still remember being relieved when someone finally told me that Bryan was at the church getting ready. I had been asking every 5 minutes or so.

And now, here we are - 14 years later.
I'm so glad he showed up.

So, back to my original thought behind this post....feel free to leave your restaurant suggestion in the comments section. I would love the input and to hear your favorite place to go celebrate.

Things I Learned this Weekend

First of all...I told you so. I am truly behind the times.

I know this thanks to the time I spent with family this weekend. I was getting ready to tell my brother about the funny "Cornhole thing at the Country Club" (see post below).
Before I got started I told him that I was going to do a word association and that when I said the word, I wanted him to tell me what he thought of.

Knowing that he too used to watch Beavis and Butthead, I knew he would chuckle.

WRONG

He said, "Yeah, what about it? I play that almost every weekend with my neighbors".

Told you I was behind the times. Not just my brother knows about the new fangled name for "Bean Bag Toss", but his neighbors are in on it too.
Apparently he bought his version at Wal-Mart for much cheaper than AJJ Cornhole dot com sells theirs. And they set up their boards on his driveway.

Also - an FYI for all of you local people:

This weekend's hanging with family was in the ER making sure my Mom was o.k. (a little heat exhaustion brought on by cutting the lawn at 2:30 in the summer-time, Charleston afternoon heat). For various precautions they kept her overnight.

Well we all know how much I pee (I'm a true, detrol LA taking, "gotta go right now" girl. Even when I'm on detrol, I still go a lot. Just the "right now" urge isn't as strong). So, over the 24 hours we were at the hospital I went a lot.

I've always heard my Dad say that there is a brand of toilet paper called "John Wayne". You know, "rough and tough". And I swear St. Francis Hospital must have stock in it. It was so rough and tough that literally I was raw and chaffed after being there.

I kid you not!

I wasn't really sure what the deal was. I was experiencing the monthly female nuisance and thought it may have something to do with new products. But when I got home Sunday afternoon I realized after the first time I went to my own bathroom that the toilet paper was to blame. Mine was oh, so soft and refreshing! It was wonderful.

So beware of the t.p. at St. Francis. I feel sure Roper has the same being that they are all in the family these days. It truly is rough and tough and will take the skin right off of your precious private spots.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

Not that I wouldn't have thought to post something nice about my Dad, but I got the inspiration for this post straight from the pages of Nothing But Bonfires. You guys know me, I read these blogs like most people would read a magazine. I started reading this blog souley due to a conversation with someone regarding our reading and enjoying another blogger's page. He recommended I follow the link to Nothing But Bonfires for some more enjoyable internet reading. So, Daddy - after stealing an idea from the other blog - this is for you!

Daddy

I am so thankful for the many things you have done for me over the years. So many have made fond memories and good laughs.

Starting with….

Accidentally letting me have my first drink of beer from your cup when your back was turned when I was approximately three. “Mmmmm…..good, Daddy – want more!”. I still love a tasty cold beer to this day.

Bathing me (and Joe) as a nighttime family ritual. There was always lots of picking up water to create a pool in your hands (they seemed so HUGE to us as children) and letting the water fall and sometimes trickle back to the tub – so much fun. We were always amazed that you could hold water in your hands for so long.

Brushing my wet, freshly shampooed hair ever so gently to get it untangled. (My daughter even requests Paw Paw for the brushing of her tangled, wet hair).

Teaching me how to fish and pretending that I skunked you and Uncle Charlie. O.K. so maybe I did catch more fish than you guys, but that’s easy to do when you can’t get a line in because of re-baiting mine or handing me the rod when there was a fish on.

Dealing with me as I almost fainted in your hospital room the night of your heart attack. You knew that was just how I was handling things and laughed with me when I started feeling less weak.

Paying for my wedding to Bryan (thanks – that was certainly worth it).

Not panicking with me on the phone the night I called you and Mom on your vacation (o.k. it’s considered morning at 3:30 am) to let you know that I was hemorrhaging and going to the hospital to have Legare three weeks early. If you had shown any sign of panic I may have fainted! I certainly would have wigged out a bit more than I was.

So many more – but such a short amount of time before the day gets started – so these will have to do for now.

I love you, Daddy (we all do) – HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

And it’s too bad I didn’t steal an idea like this for a Mother’s Day blog post. Cause Mom was sure there for so many things and memories too (like handling the details of the wedding and dealing with me on those often occasions as a child when my blood sugar would leave me and cause me to faint – including the most recent one a year ago when I monkeyed because of Julia’s thumb. I love you too, Momma!)