Chores

My kids are getting older and the are being pulled in a thousand directions. Jobs, college, romances, band gigs, church. The only time they seem to settle is when their little bodies can't take it any more and they get sick. Like last weekend Tradition and Potential were both recuperating, one had the sniffles, one still had a post-flu headache. I checked in a couple of times, asked them how they were doing, they replied by writing their response in the dust in the coffee table.

What I am really saying is that I am stuck with all the chores these days. Except I will NOT bathe the dog. Nope, don't like him that much. I support all the good things they are doing, really I do. But I do feel a bit whiney when I have to vacuum the halls now for the first time in 20 years since I started pawning off jobs on them, all in the name of good parenting, of course.

Still, Monday rolled around and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as they all rode off to school and work, and I was left wondering how many rolls of paper towels it would take to get through the mess? So I wrote this on the white board...

"Did anyone do their chores last week?"

Before bed someone replied...

"We love you"

Tuesday morning I wrote...

"Actions speak louder than words"

Later that day I stopped dead in my tracks as I read...

"I can yell super loud"

Where did they learn to be such smart alecs?

Secret of Life

Whenever I am feeling like I would rather sit in my comfy desk chair, with it's padded seat and arm rests, then get up and do the stuff I should be doing, I justify my sitting by researching nutrition. I love those "Ten Foods to Make Your Ankles Skinnier" and "The Miracle Cure For Disobedient Children Found in Rhubarb". Last week I learned that eating a carrot a day can cut your chances of some cancers by 50%. So once I finally made it out of my desk chair I rearranged the things in the frig so that by moving the rhubarb to the top shelf I couild fit a lot more carrots in the veggie drawer. Phwew, nutrition is hard work!

Now in a previous posting I told you about my darling neighbor, Melba. You will be pleased to know that she is recovering nicely from a fall she had this summer where she broke her back. At least once a day I see her walk past my house with her cane, taking small steps, unrushed, glad to chat with the neighbors with her voice that is barely above a whisper.

Melba's sister was visiting recently from somewhere out of state. Her sister is about ten years older, every bit as whispy in form and no less determined. I chatted with them in church last week, always amazed at how these two widows never miss a beat, a meeting, a smile. I was hauling through the grocery store a couple of days later and saw them slowly emerge from an aisle. They didn't see me but I saw them, and more importantly, I saw what was in their cart. Two gallons of chocolate milk! So awesome! Here I am stuffing carrot after carrot into my mouth and all this time the secret to a long and useful life is Chocolate Milk. Maybe the secret to skinny ankles could be to soak them in chocolate milk, do you think?

It's All In The Name

I knew better. I knew better than to go into Joann's Fabrics that close to Halloween. But there I was, number 12 and they were calling 87. All I could do was hope that the numbers turned over at 100, not 1000. But one quick look around made me wonder if the number might not be higher than that, the sea of faces looked more like the amount you would see in a line at Disneyland. Except this was not the happiest place on earth.

I got bored and wandered a bit, looking at rows of ribbons and aisles of buttons, but I did not stray far as I had noticed that the clerks counted to three and a half after calling someone’s number , and if the poor soul whose number they called did not show up, too bad, the next number was called, no mercy. I finally became so insecure that I just parked my cart close enough to see the menacing "Now Serving..." sign and rudely called my daughter on my cell phone. I really did try to keep my voice quiet, but I still got some looks. Twenty minutes later when they called my number, I squeaked out, "gotta go, love ya" and didn't even wait for the reply before hanging up on the poor thing. But she frequents the Joann's near her, so I knew she understood.

The clerk who waited on me was surprisingly cheerful, considering the generally growl-ly nature of the crowd. I commented on the Halloween crowd being it's usual density for this time of the year, and asked her if she thought it would be worse by Christmas. Her eyes got big, and I sensed great fear as she nodded affirmatively. I told her I usually tried to get my Christmas shopping done by Halloween, as I didn't handle Christmas rush lines with any dignity whatsoever. She expressed some admiration that I could be so organized. I told her I was motivated more by desperation after years of some calamity that seemed to hit faithfully in early December (like the three years they called me the week before the church Christmas Party and asked me to organize the entertainment). I laughingly told her that this year I had even scheduled my Winter Cold early. She jokingly said, "Wow, with that kind of efficiency, you could be the next Stephen Covey."
"Na," I said looking down at my fingernails, "that would more likely make me the next Stephen King".

All There In Black and White

We had the most fun party on Friday night! I got the idea from my little brother, to have a black and white themed night. So I sent out invitations as follows…

"The night will be all black and chill,
So come to the house upon the hill.
Dress in black and/or dress in white.
Do let your imaginations all take flight!
Don’t be shy, but do be wary...
Dessert in your arms you must carry.
It too must be just white and/or black;
Of course it’s best if…
it threatens to attack!
 
Please, oh please RSVP in time,
To miss this, indeed, would be a crime!"

We decorated the table all in black and white, served Sprite in a black punch bowl with a fozen face floating in it (that was the hardest part, getting a mask filled up with water and frozen took two days), and served a soup that had black and white beans in it. Here is the recipe:

CHECKERBOARD CHILI

1 T oil
1 c chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 c chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c matchstick cut carrots
4 c chicken broth
2 T cilantro, chopped
2 t ground cumin
1/2 t dried oregano
2 T lime juice
1/4 t red pepper sauce
1/4 salt
1 1/2 c frozen corn
2 can (15oz) black beans
2 can (15oz) white beans
2 c chopped cooked chicken breast


Sauté onions and garlic in oil until tender. Stir in remaining ingredients except chicken. Heat to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer uncovered 20 minutes. Stir in chicken; simmer until hot. Serve with fresh chopped tomatoes and tortilla chips.

And everyone came in black and white costumes! My husband came as a highway, with a white strip down the front of black clothes and road signs taped all over, I came as Animaniacs Dot, Potential was a Gothic Raggedy Ann, Tradition came as a Baker, and Wonder came as Eve from Wall-E. We then played Black and White Jeopardy, with the categories being: Movies, On The menu, All Hallow’s Eve, Jack Black,...And Red All Over. We crammed about 20 people into our little front room and we had a blast. Our guests brought black and white desserts, brownies and homemade oreos and Nutterbutters dipped in white chocolate to look like ghosts. Good people, good food, good times! I am already planning my costume for next Halloween!

For Your Night Time Viewing Pleasure

So I have been sleeping on the couch for a month. The good news is that it is NOT because my husband is not speaking to me, though heaven knows I have given him many chances. I have had bronchitis and it is so much easier to sleep sitting up, and some nights, when it was impossible to sleep, it has been nice to be able to turn on the TV and have some sort of distraction from my beleaguered lungs.

After I had gone through several sets of batteries searching all 700 channels for a show I was allowed to watch, (remember, my children have forbidden me to watch any NCIS or CSI or Criminal Minds), and, heaven forbid, for something that would not set my diminishing IQ back any further, I went to the “On Demand” feature on my remote. From there I began to search through “All TV Series”. So here is a sampler of my favorite viewing options:

Bridal Boot Camp
Chasing Mummies
Deadly Women
I’m Pregnant And I Didn’t Know It
Modern Sniper
Monsters Inside Me
Prison Wives
Scream Queens
Swamp People

Wow.

I had peeked at “Bridezillas” one night, and with four unmarried children of my own, it gave me nightmares, so I skipped “Bridal Boot Camp”. “Chasing Mummies” really didn’t interest me, and I imagined that “Deadly Women” couldn’t be much worse than back to school shopping with my girls when they were teenagers. I started to watch “I’m Pregnant And I Didn’t Know It”, but it was insulting. “Modern Sniper” and “Prison Wives” sounded too much like the shows I have been banned from watching, and “Monsters Inside Me”, “Scream Queens”,
“Swamp People”, all sounded like something that 15 year old boys who spend too much time playing Halo on the weekend would watch.

So instead, I found an episode of “Animal Hoarders” and watched that.

I want my lungs back. And maybe my life,too.

Visiting the Past

On our first day of vacation we headed to Colorado Springs. I was born there, but my family moved when I was four and I have never returned. We left pretty close to on time, punched the address into the navi and trusted it would get there the fastest way. I am not sure it was the fastest way, but it was a beautiful drive! We drove through all sorts of small towns and the scenery through Colorado was breathtaking! We even got to see a black bear running through an opening in the trees somewhere between the Continental Divide and Colorado Springs. The drive took two more house than we thought, so we missed getting into the cemetery. See the reason we took our route through C.S. was so that I could visit my little sister's grave. She was born 18 months after I was, but only lived three months. We got up a bit earlier the next day, and found her grave marker with very little difficulty, considering it was a huge cemetery. Her name, carved in Granite, Melissa Ruppel, was tucked up against a large tree, but was a little overgrown. I dug around it, and Wonder collected stray flowers, while Potential snapped photos. It was a lovely experience, topped off by Tradition feeding Fruit Loops to a Fox who posed with great dignity for out camera.

Day two was 16 hours in the car! Again, we trusted the navi, which someone inthe back named "Delores", and she took us through beautiful stretches of the Mid West on the way to Nauvoo, Illinois. We own a building there, one built by dragging the original stones that had once belonged to the original Nauvoo Temple just up Mulholland. Along the way I read "Remembering Isaac" to the three girls in the back, finding ourselves increasingly enraptured with the town of Niederbipp. The highlight of the day was as we wandered down some delightfully verdant back road, we almost missed a sign that read "Adam Ondi Ahman, 4 Miles. I had no idead that was on the route, as we had left all those decisions up to Delores. We screeched to a halt and backed up. We made it through the gates just as the sun set, but the sky was still full of pinks and oranges. As we tumbled out of the van in the deserted parking lot, we were instantly aware of the completely different feeling that the paths and fields there evoked. I wish I could write how we felt, but words just don't begin to capture the sunset, rolling hills, quiet, potential and fireflies! Oh the fireflies!

Day three was a warm one in Nauvoo, there on the banks of the Mississippi;, they told us later it was 110 counting some index. Undaunted, we walked from our hotel to our store. Each visit finds us more enthralled with the bits and pieces of the temple that clearly mark the hand work of some pioneer who chiseled and carved at the stones with such devotion. We wandered up and down main street and then it was finally time for lunch at our favorite place, the Nauvoo Mill and Bakery. We ate all of our meals there, squirreling away bits for snacking later. In the evening we went to see the pageant that told the history of Nauvoo. We have ancestors who lived and died there, so we feel connected besides our building.

Day four, on the way out of town we finally caved and stopped at the darling quilt store, which used to be housed in our building, but hard times hit everywhere, and the quilt shop is now part of another gift shop. I bought some lovely pieces to make an apron, my favorite is a fat quarter covered with speckled eggs for the pockets. Potential caught amazing photos along the way, our favorite ones were Amish clothes out to dry on a line. We used great self discipline not to take photos of the darling amish girl who waited on us at the little grocery stand, run without electricity. Again, Delores took us down long country back roads and past amazing old churches, schools and barns. At last, we arrived in Terre Haute to see Childhood and her thriving family.

No time for edits and fine combing, there are three little grandsons waiting to show their Grammy how well they can jump into the water from the side of the pool!

Spinning

As the four and a half of you who follow my blog know, I have to post once a week or I have to do Potential's laundry. Potential hasn't used the washing machine in weeks, so I am very motivated to stay as far away from her bulging laundry basket as possible. Now here I sit exploring all sorts of morsels I could potentially write about as they pop into my head.

The problem, is that I have been trying to give up complaining. I don't just mean not whining about stuff, I mean completely getting away from saying anything that is not constructive. That means giving up saying things like, "It sure is hot" and "I gotta get new shoes, my feet are killing me", both of which I think I said this week anyway. I am trying to get away from saying anything that doesn't take the conversation somewhere better. I am trying to say things like, "Let's cool off and go get a frozen yogurt" or "According to my calculations, these shoes have walked about 1,500 miles in the last 3 years, aren't they awesome?"

Not complaining is surprisingly boring, which is not a complaint, but totally a statement of fact. The not complaining conversation goes like this:
"How has your day gone?"
"Great, how has your day gone?"
"Great!"
"The wife and kids, how are they?"
"Great, thanks for asking. How about that new car you got?"
"Humms right along, no problem at all."

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Now notice, that I switched to a conversation as if it might be between two men? That is because years ago, the first time I started thinking about not complaining all the time, I called a friend and asked her what she thought it might sound like if the two of us gave up complaining, what would our conversation be like? She thought for a minute and said, "We would sound like men." I'm not going to elaborate, just putting that out there.

So as I searched my wee brain for current events, I found I had to eliminate them or figure out how to put a positive spin on them. For example, I took the car in to be looked at and came home with a bill twice as big as the current blue book value, not exaggerating. If I were trying to put a constructive spin on that particular morsel, I could say this, "Hooray, what a wonderful time we live in. There are so many options available when disaster strikes. We can dip into the kid's tuition fund, sell a kidney, or just simply learn to do without, blessing our lives with additional patience and understanding. Think of how many more miles my wonderful shoes could go if we didn't have a car!"

I'm going out now for a frozen yogurt. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the car made it there and back?