HA HA HA!!

Check this out - the San Francisco forecast for the days I'll be there -

 

Thu Oct 5 Sunny 55°/50° 20%			20 %
Fri Oct 6 Sunny 60°/52° 20%			20 %
Sat Oct 7 Sunny 63°/55° 20%			20 %
Sun Oct 8 Sunny 66°/56° 20%			20 % Test Your Allergies IQ
Mon Oct 9 Sunny 68°/56° 0%			0 %

The forecast for my own hometown during those days!

 

Thu Oct 5 Partly Cloudy 80°/61° 20%			20 %
Fri Oct 6 Partly Cloudy 83°/63° 20%			20 %
Sat Oct 7 Partly Cloudy 83°/63° 20%			20 %
Sun Oct 8 Scattered T-Storms 78°/56° 40%			40 %
Mon Oct 9 Showers 70°/53° 60%			60 %

 

It's so funny that I'm leaving the midwest and going to California and it'll be a good 15 -20 degrees cooler in CA than here at home.  That is a fine twist, let me tell you!

 

Ah, at least I have plenty of opportunity for my neat-o knitted things.

 

 

Nothing profound

I got nothing profound really to say, but there's a lot of really neat-o things going on in my world as of late, so what the hell, eh?

Saw my nephew play football this morning. His team got slaughtered (53 -0 I think,) but man, let me just say that it was some sort of trip to watch the first baby I've ever loved playing out there. He's a man now, a young man, of course, but a man. He looked damned good out there. It took my breath away to watch him get out of his pads and stand there, sweat curling his hair, and remember the little boy who used to have curly hair and smiles that melted my heart. I love that kid. He's amazing. He's special. There's no other kid like him. And I like to think that I'm a little special to him, too. He'll be 13 on Friday. I expect that I'll call him from the beach or the Redwoods or somewhere equally as cool. NOTE TO SELF - Find out if he has a camera phone - I can send him a birthday picture from SF.

I saw this a couple of years ago, right when it first was broadcast. I had just heard of Mr. Ritchie then and it was the following Monday that I put Cocky on hold at the library. Had I know what an obsession I would have built, I would have paid more attention the first time. But, since I didn't, I have been waiting 2 years for it to be rebroadcast. It came on today and I recorded it to DVD. My GAWD, what a good time. HW Jr is just amazing - the tribute to T-Top is so brilliant. B and I noted that it was nearly like church, watching these two work together. I also mentioned that it was the only kind of church that I would attend and, frankly, also mentioned that I probably would become a fundamentalist. It comes on again at 11 tonight. Might just invite Mr. Beam over and watch it again!

I met someone today. The someone is special to someone in my life. I'm not going to comment very much, but before you ask, yeah, he's alright. Reminds me a bit of my own B.

JM Bill sent me a text message from Greece. And, to JMB, yeah, baby, I hear you about the beaches. I've never been to a beach like that, but the Rainbow Gatherings are much the same. Clothes are over rated. SO glad you're having a blast.

Stealth has a cold. Poor baby. Didn't get much sleep at all last night. Neither did I.

The new camera kicks ass, for a point and shoot, anyway. Great purchase!

I miss JP something fierce. It's been nearly a month since we've seen each other. Might as well be a year. It hurts when I am away from someone I love for so long. I MUST get together with her when I return from SF.

I've made myself another bag to take to SF. I intentionally made it a little more colorful than I normally like because I think I need to break out of my own mold. But of course, I now run the risk of T trying to take it from me on the flight because it is purple. Hmmmmmm.......

Better go felt that now!!

I need to take Ginko to get through bedtime

We have a routine with the boys at bedtime.  I'm a firm believer in establishing family rituals (cutting the head of chickens will not be in this post.  That's on my other blog.  heh heh heh. You decide if I'm joking....)  As I was saying, I think that rituals help to bond the family together, so we have lots of them.

The primary one, however, is bedtime.

 

Every night, the kids brush their teeth and B and I tuck them into their beds.  I climb onto Duck's bed and B climbs onto Stealth's and we have a little talk.  Then we switch beds and I talk to Stealth while B talks to Duck.  I don't know what B talks about with the boys, but I always ask them the same 2 questions:  "What was your favorite part about today?," and "What are you going to dream about tonight?"  I like it.  It ends the day talking about positive aspects of our life (gratitude) as well as thinking optimistically about the future (hell, 2 hours from the time they fall asleep is in the future, isn't it?)

 

Anyway, after that, we say goodnight.  Or well, we used to say goodnight.  And then something happened in the universe and the kids starting morphing "Goodnight" into some sort of cryptic code to, perhaps, signal the mothership. 

 

It used to be "Good Night!"

 

Now, it's:

 

"Good Night"

"Night Nighty"

"Shine Nighty"

"Bill Nighty"

"Ararat Nighty"

"Sick Nighty"

"Soup Nighty"

 

And, no, it's not pick or choose, not multiple choice.  Nope, it's all of them at once.  Yes oh yes, I have to say all of them in a list.

 

I'm too old to remember this stuff.  If you need me tomorrow, you can find me in the supplement aisle.  I'll need to stock up before bedtime tomorrow.

 

What the world needs now

Free Hugs. 

 

Take the time to watch, eh?  Turn on your speakers - it's 3 and a half minutes of healing for us all.

Ahhhhhhhh

It's a gorgeous day.  80 degrees and it's nearly October.  We've been really enjoying the weather lately.  Sunday B and I took the boys for a hike.  I really felt how blessed I am to have such a wonderful loving family. Yesterday I took the boys bike riding and then to the playground.  Today I plan on washing all the linens and letting them dry on the line.  Nothing like fresh sheets for a good nights sleep.

 

J.M.Bill is off in Greece.  If I didn't love her so much, I'd call her a bitch.  Greece really agrees with her and her Mr., so I hope they live it up.  Might be the last time they make it there - not exactly as easy to get there from Botswana.  The challenge is put on hold for a few days.  She'll return approximately 36 hours before I leave for San Francisco.  Sheesh.  I'm gonna have to make a note to myself about her challenge and my own!  Anyway, JMB and Mr. JMB, eat some olives for me, eh?  And JMB?  Enjoy those Greeks.  ;-)

 

I really really really love getting rid of crap that just drags you down.  It's so refreshing to be able to say, "um, yeah, no more for me, thanks" and move on.  The cleanest day of your house is the day you take out the trash.  Been making several trips to the curb lately and have been enjoying the benefits enormously.  And I'm not speaking literally.

 

I've been knitting and designing up a storm lately.  It's so nice to look around the house and know that we'll never be cold and it's all from my own two hands.  Pretty nice when folks pay me for it, too. 

 

Duck has been doing multiplication lately.  Unreal.  The kid is 6 years old.  Anyway, it's just starting, but it's nearly all he thinks about, all he talks about.  Lovely.

 

Speaking of Duck, I'm so excited for his yoga class to start.  It will be so good for him.

 

Stealth.  I haven't mentioned much about Stealth lately, but it's mostly because every day it's something new with him.  He's amazing.  I remember how wonderful 4 years old is. 

 

I'm so thrilled to be able to be home with the boys and to be their primary teacher.  It astounds me what the public schools are *not* teaching.  I saw on the local news the other day that there is a new program out there aimed at getting all children reading by 3rd grade.  THIRD GRADE!!!!  Are you kidding me?  Now, of course, I'm all about kids learning to do things on their own schedule. I'm fully aware of folks who didn't learn to read until well later than most and they turned out just fine and well, but come on!  Can you imagine how bored some kids will be in class?  In a neighbor town, the first grade there are focusing on a letter a day.  A letter a day.  A few numbers here and there, but mostly they are learning how to function in a machine and they are learning a letter a day.  Duck is already reading chapter books.  We're so lucky to be able to homeschool the kids - they'd be bored to death.

 

B is hard at work doing more framing.  I love seeing him work late into the night.  Lights burning in his shop, music playing, him doing what he does best.  He's so talented it makes me teeth sweat just thinking about it.

 

DDFF, wanna grab a cuppa soon and do some knitting?  I'd love to see that market bag you're working on.

 

VJ, sistah, I'll be seeing you soon.  I can't wait.  xoxoxo

 

Life is just so juicy good right now.  LOVE it.

bits

PSA: If you're going to share music, please please please please please be damned sure you know what the hell you're talking about! I downloaded a song that I was very excited about a while back (one of my favorite songs covered by one of my favorite bands) and just got around to listening to it. The moron who shared it clearly had no idea what he was talking about. Sure, the organ sounds a lot like Ray Manzarek, but the vocal clearly isn't Jim Morrison. It is undeniably the very popular version of the song by The Animals. It's an amazing song, don't get me wrong, but for the love of all that is holy, don't label it as "The House of the Rising Sun by The Doors" unless you want me flying to Romania and kicking your ass.

On that same note, I love love love that song. It reminds me of my Dad. He used to play it on the guitar when I was a little girl. In fact, I first thought that the song was Amazing Grace 'cause that's how Dad always used to sing it. Don't believe me? Go head, try it. "There is a house in New Orleans" = "Amazing Grace How Sweet the Sound." The whole freaking song fits. Frankly, it's the only way I like Amazing Grace. Says a lot about how I came to be the way I am - learned "Amazing Grace" to a tune about a whore house. Anyway, my Dad turned me onto a lot of great music and I'm really grateful to him for that.

Storm warnings. Yeah. Hate it when they're not in my county and yet the interrupt the one TV show I watch during the day. I swear, they couldn't have done it 5 minutes earlier when some stupid Entertainment show was on? Honestly, who gives a flying how do you do about who is screwing who, who's wearing what? WHO CARES? And the storm hadn't even come close to hitting yet! C'mon, folks!

One of the other TV shows that I watch premiered last night, though, and I seriously hurt myself laughing. The Office. OH MY SWEET CHEEKS, that was hysterical!!! I was skeptical when it came out a couple of years ago - it couldn't possibly be as good as the British version, could it? BUT, I'm here to say, it may very well be the best TV show on the air. Period.

In 2 weeks, I'll be in San Francisco! I leave in 13 days and am sooooooooo looking forward to it. I think I'm going to have to have some sort of serious sedative with me, though, because I've never been away from my family for that long. I'm going to miss B and the boys so much. But, um, not that much. WAHOO! Mama's going on vacation!!! Staying 1 night in The Mission, 3 nights right inside Chinatown. Hitting Golden Gate park, the redwoods, the beach, stores and stores and the burning man festival, but Oh, what a pleasure and blessing it will be to see my VJ get hitched!!!!!! Note to self - get B to the store and buy new camera.

Took the boys to the biggest playground in town this morning. We were the only folks there, which was kind of sad because they like playing with other kids, but it was a great way to start the day! Love it.

I should never ever ever make chocolate chip cookies with dark chocolate chips again. I eat way too many of them. Horrible, I tell you.

Got an email from a former boyfriend the other day. He's still hot and still the same guy he's always been. You ladies in Chicago, you're missing out! I'm so glad I moved on from him, but I'm also still so glad we're still friends. Seriously, ladies. There's still a good one out there!

J.M. Bill, the tea is rockin' my world. Thanks!

BUT on the wonderful side of things -

Duck learned how to tie his shoes yesterday!  WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

and another one -

"Mom, I don't like this kind of chicken.  It looks like flavored dog poop!"

Of course!

 

"What happened to my lovely Duck, the one who was patient and paid attention to me and didn't ignore me and followed directions?  I miss him so much, where did he go?"

 

"Maybe he went to Paris, Mom.  Yep. He went to Paris."

 

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!

To the alcoholic in my life who is celebrating 2 years of sobriety today!  I love you and I've never been more proud of a human being in my entire life.  You are an inspiration.

 

This morning I woke up and walked into the living room to find Duck standing at the front picture window and looking out the curtains.

 

"Good morning, Sweet Duck, what are you doing?"

 

"I'm talking to Eisenhower's spirit."

 

"You mean, the spirit of Dwight D. "Ike" Eisenhower?"

 

"Yep.  I also want to talk to the people who dug his grave, but I don't know where they are.  So I'm gonna stick with talking to Ike."

 

 

 

You just never know what a Sunday morning will bring in my house.

On second thought ...

it *always* works out.  Always.  Everything as it should be.

 

Every once in a while-

things just work out. 

 

Om.

 

Zoo pictures

We went to the Zoo yesterday with the kids and the in-laws. It was PERFECT! Perfect weather, perfect animals (they were all out except the new baby elephant,) perfect kids, the in-laws were great, everything was ideal! What a great day!


 

Zoo Pictures part II

 

In brief

Things are insane around here.  Not so much busy but just full.  Full of life, full of activities and projects, full of promise - also full of stress, full of bullshit, full of annoyances, full of other people's expectations.  Of course, in typical Mamakohl style, I'm cutting every unnecessary thing and person out until things settle down.  In that spirit, I give you my current life In Brief:

 

Tomorrow is our annual Zoo trip with my in-laws.  This year the Fragile Forest is finally open and there is a new baby to see - Raja has a daughter!  This is always a wonderful trip for us.  We love going in the middle of the week - there are no crowds and this year, the weather is supposed to be gorgeous!  I cannot wait.  Now, if we can only keep my in-laws from feeding Duck and Stealth enormous amounts of crap food.  Agh.  I mean, enough is enough already - especially when we always end the trip with a visit to Ted Drew's.

 

The trip to San Francisco is coming up very quickly.  A few long phone conversations with Velma has gotten me so excited I can barely stand it.  We'll be seeing the redwoods, the beach, and I'll be staying in Chinatown for 2 or 3 nights while I'm there.  The best part (other than the Hitchin' Party - seriously, you all, check out the link,) is going to the Burning Man street fest on my last night there.  OH YEAH, baby.  I might have to pack a second bag for the clothes for that night - watch out, world, Mama is getting her funk on.  Nothing like pyrotechnics and half naked folks to get my mojo risin'.

 

I dropped a large sum of money yesterday at my favorite local yarn shop - got a little sumpin' sumpin' as a surprise for a friend of mine, but more importantly, I got something for myself for the first time in ages.  I bought some Addi Turbo circular needles - maybe the nicest needles I have.  Bought them to make a lovely little scarf / shrug / turtleneck thingy that I've been thinking about for nearly a year.  And, I got myself some delicious Elsebeth Lavold Classic AL yarn with which to make it.  AHHHHHHHHH, 50% baby alpaca and 50% Merino wool equals 100% luxury.

 

B is growing his hair out again and the goatee / moustache has returned.  He's looking like a badass again.  I wonder how much of is this has to do with him trying to hold onto his youth and how much of it has to do with my obsession with Kid Rock.  Either way, it's fine with me.

 

The weather here is amazing.  Just gorgeous.  Fall, like childhood, lasts for just a blink of an eye.  Better get out there and enjoy it while it's here.

 

What zip code is your nose in, Pinocchio?

**Disclaimer:  I don't want to get a bunch of emails asking me if I'm writing about you.  If you are a liar, then YES, I'm writing about you.  If you're not a liar, then just say, "Amen, Sistah!" and jump on the bandwagon.  The end.**

 

I think I may have posted here before about how much I hate lying.  I just don't do it. 

Lying is not a part of my life anymore.  It hasn't been for a long long time.  In fact, the closest thing I get to lying is not answering my boys one way or the other about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy.  They believe in them, but when they ask, I just tell them the history behind these "folks" or say something like "Santa is the name that folks use to describe the Spirit of Christmas" or some other vague explanation.  But good lord and butter, what parent hasn't chewed a few nails over those issues, eh?  If they asked me flat out, I could tell them nothing but the truth.  I'm nearly incapable.

 

This week I told my husband a very hard truth.  I didn't have to tell him.  I could have kept my mouth shut about it forever and no one would have ever noticed.  But I had to tell him because, after 3 days of not telling him, I thought I was going to lose my damned mind.  To me, it's dishonest to even omit something.  It was hard, but I told him and you know, he laughed at me, gave me a big kiss, and told me that he knew that he could always trust me to rat myself out - that I'd never lie to him or anyone else.

 

Elvis knows I used to - I used to lie all the time. I lied to protect myself, to keep from revealing my true self that may, or may not have been, dorky.  I have lied to protect others. I have lied to get things, to get rid of things, to get my way, to get other people their way.  I have lied to folks I love, folks I hate, folks I didn't even know.  I've lied about big things, little things, inconsequential things   I've even lied to myself more than I could ever say...

 

And then I grew up.  I learned to love myself and trust that, while I cannot predict how others might react to my truths, I sure as hell can trust myself enough to deal with it - however they react.  I saw that lying was an act of self sabotage.  The moment that you have the opportunity to lie, you have two choices : 1) take control of your life and improve it by telling the truth and growing a bit, or 2) tell a lie and continue to live in the pit of untruths and never be able to dig yourself out.  Telling the truth gives you growth.  Lying makes sure you stay a child.

 

 As a parent, it's part of my life's path to deal with lying.  Thus far, I've caught my kiddos attempting to lie a time or two, but they've gotten the message that they'll be in so much less trouble if they tell me the truth about what they did than if they lie about it.  It's part of being a kid, part of testing boundaries and growing up.  It's frustrating, it's annoying, but it's part of the gig and I'll take it - I understand it.

What I do not understand is adults who lie.  And there are many many many of them.  I cannot wrap my brain around this to save my soul.  One would think that, after having survived a minimum of 28 years on this planet ('cause I think folks in their 20's are still just glorified kids,) one would have the knowledge and strength and the understanding that the truth is all that is needed.  The truth is ALWAYS good enough.  These folks think that they're lying in order to "save face" as it were, but in reality, they lose all credibility the minute the speak the first words of untruth.  And the kicker is this - that credibility doesn't come back.  You've lied, you've lost your shot at anyone trusting you.  Period.  Yes, over time, we may come back around and give you another shot, but we'll never ever forget that you've not given us enough credit, that you didn't think we were important enough to hear the truth.

 

Is it really worth all of that? 

 

Really, what is so bad about telling someone where you've been?  Who you saw?  What you ate?  What movie you saw?  Why you like this song or hate that one?  Why you went here or didn't go there?  Why you still have a powder blue tuxedo in your closet or why you're still hanging onto your first boyfriend's t-shirt?  If you do or don't like tofu, if you do or don't recycle, of you do or don't have sex with the lights on?  What the hell, folks?  If you've done something, you have a reason.  If that reason is good enough for you, that's what matters - why lie about it?  Lying only makes you look guilty and like you have something to hide.  Those things, combined with dishonesty, just show the world that you're not trustworthy.

 

And don't think you're good at lying.  Don't think that folks don't know.  Most adults, ones with a conscious anyway, can spot a lie the second the world comes out of your mouth.  Know why?  Because adult liars are just that - adults.  Adults *know* better and so they give themselves away every single time.

 

Here's things, all you adult liars out there - we just want to hang out and get to know *you.*  We don't give two shits about your lies.  We don't care - it doesn't make you look cool.  It makes you look like you don't trust us, that we're not even worth the truth to you.  It also makes you look like you don't have the least bit of confidence in yourself - and if you don't have confidence in yourself, why the hell should we have confidence in you?  You're cheating everyone. You're cheating yourself out of the chance to be authentic and you're cheating us out of the chance to love you.  That might be the biggest crime of all.

 

So stop lying.  Just stop. Now.  Today.  You owe it to yourselves.  And once you start living an authentic, truth filled life, you can start smelling all the beautiful roses under your own feet - instead of the ones 4 counties over. 

 

Mamakohl at age 127

Thanks, Mark.

BFF

Me & JP

 

Check it out -

My kids do a lot of learning from cd-roms. They have their own computer and we have a lot of educational software. They love it, I feel good about what they're learning. Good stuff.

This past week we got two new programs -

DK's The Ultimate Human Body - I cannot tell if this is the coolest thing I've ever seen or a raging piece of crap. I'm leaning towards the coolest thing I've ever seen with some disappointing features. I cannot even get into what all it does - seriously, you can look at every system of your body, every organ, everything in 3D rotational imagery. There's videos that help teach anatomy and physiology. It's *outstanding!* The problem? Not all of the features work. There's one system scan -the X-Ray - that just won't work at all on my kid's computer. I've read reviews and have discovered that this is common - some discs work great, some don't work at all. It's hit or miss. I cannot promise that yours will work if you get one. As for us, I've decided that the educational aspect of even 2/3 of the program working outweighs the disappointment of the 1/3 that doesn't work. If you're gonna get it, a few things to note - it does NOT work on XP or Mac. It's designed to run on Win95 /98, but will work on ME, too.


We also got School House Rock! Grammar Rock. I swear, the boys LOVE this game and so do I. Everything that you remember from School House Rock is on this game (Busy Prepositions, Conjunction Junction, etc.) It's fun, easy to figure out, educational. It's cool to hang out with School House Rocky and Mr. Morton. And this game has no bizarro quirks - it all works well!

And Karma is back on my side

We had a structural engineer come to our house tonight and look at the foundation and all around the house. It was quite simple to do - he is the husband of my mother's best friend - and he did it for absolutely nothing. He and B went over every inch of the house and he says our foundation is actually in remarkably good shape! The crack in the foundation that we discovered on Sunday as well as the one near the stairs are not endangering our house (as far as he can tell,) and the believes that they can be fixed up with injection of silicon - and that he probably has the stuff we need to use to do it and he can show B how to do it himself. Even if he doesn't have the stuff, it's only going to cost us around $100 max to buy it.

We went from thinking about taking out a $10K loan to maybe spending $100 and some elbow grease!!!

Man, I feel like I could walk on air.

Oh, and we got new gutters yesterday, too. So, a new roof, new gutters, and the news that our foundation isn't going to be destroyed the next time it rains is making me one happy happy mama! :-)

Quote for the day

Today I asked Stealth, "Stealth, why did you just rub peanut butter all over your clothes?"

 

Duck answered.

 

"'Cause that's what he does best!"

 

The $150 P

You know, just 'cause my life is destined to be this interesting, I submit this little gem.

We got a new roof a couple of weeks ago. It's a great roof, we're pleased with the color, pleased with the speed and skill of the crew, loved the contractor (I may very well be the only living breathing human being to ever have uttered such words....) It all seemed like a great deal - at the time.

The bill came and was $150 over the estimate. Not surprising, in fact, we were prepared for this - the crew had to replace several pieces of rotted wood in the roof. This money was to go directly to the crew because of some strange thingamajiggy that really doesn't matter. $150 of the nearly $3K bill was to go directly to the crew. We pay the contractor, he pays the crew. Okay, fine.

And then B and I took a lovely little walk around our property and found something eye poppingly bizarre.


We have the 2 most beautiful trees in our neighborhood - the most amazing Oak I've ever seen in the back yard and a glorious Maple in the front. The work crew used this huge maple as a shade tree during their breaks and during lunch - who could blame them? Apparently, however, one of the crew didn't manage to get his graffiti fix at the overpass the night before and decided to tag one of the roots of our Maple tree with a P.

Yep, those are roofing nails embedded into the root of our tree. Embedded so deeply, in fact, that attempting to remove them will only do more damage to the tree than is already done.

Sweet!

So the owner of the company came tonight and took one look at the tree and crapped his pants. He cut $150 off our bill for the trauma to Mabel the Maple. That $150 will come out of the crew boss's paycheck and will, undoubtedly, filter down through the crew.

As for us? We have an extra $150 and a pierced tree.

All I know is that if Mabel had really wanted to rebel, I'd have thought she'd have gone for mohawk or a nipple piercing. Toe bling soooooooo has been done.

Not all hippies stink alike-

Or

 

Why I hate the previous owners of my house with a bloody passion.

 

We have an old house - it needs lots of work.  Old houses *always* need lots of work.  We knew this going in and we were cool with most of what was going on.  We bought the house from some old hippies who were just leaving society to join a commune.  They were actually just going to let the bank foreclose on the house, but we could get it for relatively little money and we were looking for a home, so we grabbed it.

 

We knew it would need a new roof.

We knew the bathroom needed some work.

We knew that basement was only partially finished.

 

We did NOT know that there was a HUGE HUGE HUGE split in the foundation.

Until yesterday.

 

Yesterday morning I walked into the playroom and felt a distinctive *squish.*  The carpet was soaked.  In a place where we had never had water in our basement before.  Lovely.

 

We ripped out all of the carpet (well, my sewing and designing still has carpet it in there for now...) and then took a look at the wall.  B punched a whole in the drywall in the area where the carpet was the wettest and lo and behold, there was a crack.  A large one.  A HUGE one.  It went from the very top of the wall to the floor.  Upon investigation outside (digging up a front flower bed...) we discovered that the crack is all the way through.  yep.  Can see the whole fucking thing from the inside as well as the outside.

 

The kicker?  It has very obviously been patched and re-patched many times and then nicely covered up by fresh drywall. 

 

There was NO mention of this when we bought the place.  Not a fucking word.

 

B and I worked into the way early hours of the morning scraping and scrubbing and bleaching the concrete basement floor.  I work down there.  My kids play down there.  It's part of our living space.  And it's screwed all to hell.

 

So now we're hunting for a company to fix our basement for which we'll have to take out a loan.  ACES!  Fortunately, we'll only need to take out a few thousand dollars and that can be accomplished easily enough and we have a great lead on who can do this for us, but SHIT SHIT SHIT.

 

I thought about calling Flower That Smells Like Ass and Sunshine That Fries Your Soul (previous owners,) but that wouldn't solve anything.  It's not like I want them to reimburse me with peanut butter and rope sandals. 

 

Man, my kind of hippie just doesn't do others this way.

Boomer

 

Tipsy, anyone?

Okay.  You go to get your hair cut.  The bill is $35.  You're paying with a check.  To what amount do you make the check?

 

Having dinner?

 

Checking bags?

 

Getting a massage?

 

What about your postman at Christmas?

 

The UPS guy?

 

Your devout dry cleaner who has never once ruined your precious leather pants?

 

 

 

Tipping.  It's serious business.  I've had a large tipping conversation about tipping with my husband recently.  Up until the last few years, he didn't realize that you tip your stylist.  Now, of course, that's partly because he went 12 years without a haircut and prior to that, his mother was so desperate to make her hippie son look presentable that she paid the tab for his trims. But SWEET HOLY MOSES, you always *always* tip your stylist - unless you wanna look like Yule Brenner.

 

I once knew a gal who tipped $2, regardless of the bill.  Didn't matter if she was having coffee or creme brule, swordfish or Shasta.  Now, of course, times have changed and I'm sure she has changed her deal, but I was always intrigued by her tipping style.  Why $2?  Why not $1?  Or $3?  Or $1.78?

We've all heard that tipping $.01 (one penny) is the standard symbol for terrible service.  But what about 5%?  Is that significant of bad service or cheap patron?

 

I've always been a big tipper.  Always.  But, of course, I've worked in food service, in bars, in places where tips made my rent.  I've been stiffed on tabs, given phone numbers and drugs for tips (phone numbers are NOT tips, drugs, well, that depends ......)  I've also been tipped 200% of the tab.  And I promise, I've given the same service to everyone.

 

In this day and age of mortgaging our homes to pay for gasoline and selling our plasma to get good, wholesome, organic foods for our children, tipping is a hot topic.  There's been a multitude of magazine articles written about it, lots of morning news spots in reference to tipping, and gawd knows Emily Post gave herself carpal tunnel syndrome writing about tipping.  It's a big deal.  For some people, it's just extra money.  For others, it's a place to live.

 

I've been enamored with Waiter for the last couple of years.  He has some serious opinions about tipping.  In fact, he was recently on NPR's Voice of the Nation talking about tipping.  IF you missed it, you can hear the entire segment here.  Maybe it'll make you think.  Maybe it'll open your mind.  Hopefully, it will open your wallet.

 

Folks, the people who serve you make next to nothing.  Do you think they wake up every day just dying to wash your dishes or make you that 27th Shirley Temple?  Be generous.  I promise, they'll give right back.

 

Oh, and for the record, B now tips his stylist.  And he tips well.  Amazing what a threat of a sedative and an electric razor can do to a modern day Samson.

 

 

It ain't true

what they say about Mothers-in-law.  They really aren't wretched and evil and conniving and manipulative.  They are not the enemy. 

 

Well, at least mine isn't.

 

While I do sometimes complain that my MIL is flighty, habitually late, forgetful, and compulsive, the fact of the matter is that those faults pale, possibly even disappear entirely, in comparison to her attributes.

 

Most notably, her desire to spend as much time as humanly possible with my children.

 

Some of my friends never get a free night.  They never have free time away from their children.  Asking for their folks (or inlaws) to watch their children is like asking them to pierce their nipples and drop some acid - it ain't gonna happen, or if it does, they'll be paying for it for the rest of their natural lives and probably well into their first few reincarnations as well.

 

My life isn't quite like that.  Nope.  My MIL calls me asking to keep the kids for awhile.  She and my FIL cannot go much more than a week without seeing the kids.  They go into "withdrawals."  Frequently, they ask if the kids can spend the night.  They have a bedroom set up for my boys and all the necessary kid crap.  I don't even have to pack a bag.  And, on top of that, 75% of the time they have them, they call and ask if they can have them stay for "just a couple of more hours."

 

Heh.  All that and she brought my man into the world, too.

 

So, folks, lets raise our glasses to our in-laws.  They aren't as bad as we'd like to make them seem. 

 

Of course, if they really are as bad as we make them seem, raise your glass a few more times.  I swear, nothing looks bad from the bottom of a bottle of Jim Beam.

I'm so sad

School has started again.  That means that my best friend and partner in crime has turned from JP back into Mrs. P.  She's a teacher and also does home visits in the evening.

 

Put away are our long days of listening to Kid Rock and drinking bourbon and trying on clothes and wayyyyyyyy too much lipstick.

 

At least for awhile.

 

We still have the weekends! 

Lovely Lori

This morning I finished this bag for a dear friend in Wisconsin. It's been so long since I made one, I had forgotten how beautiful these purses can be .... 

Diva-ine night

So last night's show was amazing!  The place was packed and steamy (seriously, Arnie, turn on the fucking a/c, huh?  You got 150 liberals in the basement - you know it's gonna get hot!)  There was some seriously good mojo in the place and, although it was cramped and hot as Hell on Easter, everyone was in great spirits.

 

Backstage was a whirl of sequins and feathers and boas and leather and bells and lots of nekkidness - just the way I like things.  I set up my little seat and within seconds was doing some make up magic that would make Max Factor himself proud.  I don't know how many faces I painted, how many sets of false eyelashes I glued on, and, to quote Dolly Parton, I sure as shit "banged some hair!"  Did a Geisha, a raging school girl, a Frida knock off, a lovely Rosie the Riveter updo for my beloved DDFF, the eyes of the gorgeous designer, lots of cheeks and lips, but I think perhaps the topper was the groupie - complete with tri-colored lids, heavy brows, more liner and mascara than anyone should ever put on, and a triple tiered bouffant of rat-tail combed goodness.  By the time our set was ready to take the stage, I was covered in more makeup and hair goo that I could ever have imagined -and I had a smile on my face as big as Groupie's hair.

 

The ladies did such an amazing job - totally hip, completely professional, just sooooooooo great!  Everyone was hooting and hollering and bless my bourbon, I think every breathing soul in the place was utterly impressed.  They damned well should have been - they were in the presence of greatness and if they couldn't see it, well, there's someone named Tiffany down at the Gap ready to take their order.  Puh-Lease!

 

Imagine my surprise when all the fabulous women in our group took the stage for their final bows with the designer - they pulled me out on stage, too!!  I was blushing in my boots.

 

Dancing afterwards to a couple of local hip hop dudes (seriously, these guys *owned* that house by the time they were done,) was a much needed release and a fantastic celebration of the female body and what it can do!   Fun Fun Fun

 

And after it was all said and done, Rosie (DDFF) and I went to a nice place around the corner for dinner and appletinis and some much needed laughter.

 

Fabulous.  Absolutely Fabulous.  And yeah, Patsy and Edina would be proud.

Come on out to the Uterine Groove TONIGHT!

All right, all you locals, come on out to the 2006 Pro-Choice Pro-Fashion Show at Maude V. on Broadway! This is your time to let your voice be heard. For just a few little bucks, you'll get to see some amazing work by a few brilliant up and coming designers, can get some education, and have a rocking good time. Always funny and Always unpredictable, the Pr-Choice Pro-Fashion Show is an event NOT to be missed.

Be sure to check out the set put out by House of Van Sickle - she's outdone herself this year, folks. I'm doing the make-up for her models, so you know they'll be the most fab in the house!

And get this, there's a rock the house dance party to follow. Oh yeah.

So, grab your lipstick and your favorite uterus and come on out! 

Duck, aka The Monkey, Jr.

The last couple of weeks have been very hard at my house: Duck has discovered politics.

 

I have always been terrified that B and I were going to give birth to and be forced to live with at least one strict Republican -some sort of Karmic payback for us being so die hard liberals.  Family Ties comes to mind and I have spent the last few years in agony wondering if I would wake someday to another Alex P. Keaton.

 

Last week, Duck started asking about The Monkey in the White House non-stop.  He wanted to know all about George W.  Is he a good president?  What does he like?  Where is he from? What does he do?  Is he cool?

 

Then, to my horror, he started to PRETEND that he was The Monkey and actually asked me to call him, "George W. Bush."

 

I flat out refuse, telling him that I just cannot force my mouth to make those words in reference to him, someone I love so much.

 

This has been very difficult for me because, as our dear librarian friend said today, "We want our kids to think like us, but we want them to come about it on their own."  Crap on a cracker, how could I possibly be non-biased about W???

 

Eventually, I just told him the truth. I told him that some folks do like him, but that I honestly cannot understand why.  I told him that I'm sure W thinks he's doing the right thing, but sometimes people don't think very well.  And, I told him what I felt about him and why, but encouraged him to do his own "research" and decide for himself.

 

And this little 6 year old guy did just that.  He checked out books from the library.  Asked folks he knows for their opinion.  Watched the news. 

 

He still is pretending to be W. nearly every day, but he's doing it in a way that makes me smile.

 

"Hey, everyone, I'm sorry I stole your money.  Here, have it all back.  I'm sorry I lied to you.  I'm sorry I sent your family to war.  I'm sorry I caused folks to be killed.  I'm sorry that I've been a horrible president.  I'm gonna try to do better, but if not, just pick someone else in a couple of years.  Hey, how about a woman? I think my mom would be great!  Just try her PB&J sandwiches!"

 

Man.  I love that kid.

Holy shit, there went my brain - and I liked it!

I like movies. In fact, I love movies. There's just about nothing that I like more than sitting on the couch with a big ol' bowl of popcorn with nutritional yeast (don't knock it 'til you've tried it because oh sweet Elvis, it's outta sight,) and watching a good movie.

I said a GOOD movie.

For years, that meant something about a thousand hours long that required an atlas, dictionary, and Freudian interpreter whispering in my ear. OR it meant lots of British ladies running around and drinking too much wine. OR it meant some documentary or docudrama about some sort of societal issues. At the very least, it had to at least have a kick ass soundtrack.

But then I became a woman and I put away all my prudish things.

I confess to enjoying a mindless night of movie watching. I like laughing just for the sake of laughing. I like watching a movie and getting nothing out of it but pure, unadulterated entertainment. I enjoy spending a couple of hours with my brain *not* stretching. In fact, I've learned that I also rather enjoy it when I bring the garage into my living room and kill off a few of those pesky and un-needed brain cells in the name of parental liberation. I particularly enjoyed this Tuesday night while B and I spent a couple of hours trying to find a White Castle with Harold and Kumar.

Let me just say right now, if you're a tight ass, don't even attempt to watch this movie. You won't get it. You'll spend half of it looking away and the other half looking at the person with whom you're watching the movie to see if they are clueless, too, or if it's just you.

BUT, if you have ever found infomercials life changing, if you've ever discovered that peanut butter does, on occasion, make a great addition to pickles, if you've ever called information and asked where you left your socks, this movie is for you. MY LORD AND BUTTER, this movie is for you.

Laughed so hard my brain fell out.
And I loved it!

I am the champion of the universe

So, B mentions that he heard this song ages ago.  Couldn't remember who did it, but knew that it was a cover of Bob's Johnny Was a Good Man.

 

I found it and downloaded it, for free, in about 10 minutes.

 

Oh yeah. 

 

He-Man has nothing on me.

 

I am champion of the free universe.

 

Or, at least, my husband thinks so.

Don't tell him any different.

 

back in the saddle again

I've been dreaming about births lately.  I've been dreaming about the rush I get from being around the power of hard working mamas and the intoxicating head rush that comes when the birth mojo gets good.  I've been missing the feeling of rushing out of bed at 3 am and knowing that I'm off to be a part of the most special day of a woman's life.  I've missed seeing the world accept another contributor and a new soul accept his or her new home.

 

I took a long break from birthwork because I really needed it.  I was badly burned out and I wasn't able to clearly set limits for myself without feeling guilt.  I had taken some clients who weren't great matches, but I took them because they didn't particularly click with anyone else.  What I've learned, though, is I have just as much of a right to pick my clients as women have the right to pick their doula.  Ah, empowerment all around.

 

I've passed on several clients in the last few months and I'm sure I'll probably continue to pass on many in the future.  Nothing wrong with that.  I'm sure there are tons of new doulas who are still working under the Rosy haze of green newness who will be more than willing to take on the clients who pick the OB who has a 75% cesarean rate but swears that it won't happen to them because they're "different - Dr. X said so!!" 

 

Um. Yeah.

 

Today I got an email from a woman who is due in a couple of months.  She's chosen to birth her child in the most gentle way possible with the best care givers in town and my gal, DDFF, might very well be catching this baby.  This gal is looking for a doula and would like it to be me.  Everything about it says " GREEN LIGHT" and I've agreed to meet with her next week.

 

I'm excited.  I always love a good birth - and rebirth.

Busting at the seams with pride for Duck

Duck has always struggled with writing.  He will sit at the computer and type out a full page story, but when it comes to holding a pen or pencil and writing, forget it.  He was never interested in coloring and don't even think about flat out drawing a picture.

I've been really easy going about it, figuring that he'll learn how to write well enough by the time he needs to know how to sign a check or a contract.  Until then, what's the pressure?  But secretly inside I've been having to constantly tell myself it's no big deal.  He has great other fine motor skills - writing just isn't his thing.  This is where I really have to work on my tendency to be a control freak...

Anyway (sorry for the long lead up,) today I had him grab his journal and asked him to write a story while I was in the bath.  He sat in the bathroom with me and wrote a whole story AND illustrated it, too!  Now, of course, his story was only about 8 sentences long, but that is HUGE for him!  He used a good ol' #2 pencil and some colored pencils for the illustration.

I'm so proud of him!

 

Wonderful day

It was about time - I certainly needed a great day!

 

Last night, B and I decided we were long past due for some quality one on one time with the kids, so we decided that today was the day.  We got up early with the boys and B took Stealth on a special Daddy and Son fishing trip.  I grabbed Duck and we went swimming in a local lake, hit a playground, then got breakfast out and hit a local garden spot.  B and Stealth had a great time and so did Duck and I.  It was so wonderful to see him smile that smile that takes up his whole face, to hear him say, "Oh Mama, I love you!!," and to swim with the fish, and we even saw a rainbow!

 

My in-laws came around noon and took the boys out for a day of fun (and wayyyyyyyy too much sugar.)  B and I used the time to discuss some much needed topics and, after getting tired of the heaviness that these sort of conversations require, went out and saw a hysterical movie that required very little brain power to enjoy!  It was so refreshing to laugh out loud at such silliness.

 

Came home, made an easy dinner, put the kids to bed. 

 

I just returned from drinking a beer outside in our "gazebo" during a rainstorm.  There's nothing quite like the smell of a much needed summer rain - it just washes everything clean and fresh.

 

I'm about to soak in a hot bath with a great book and will eventually make it to bed with clean sheets and a fantastic pillow and my man.

 

Sometimes, life just smiles.

 

 

Dash

Occasionally something comes my way that remind me that the universe is so much smarter than I am.  Today, this little nugget made it's way to my life and I needed it so badly.

 

I'm passing it on here in case someone else needs it, too.

Nature Boys

 

Blasts from the past

Oh yeah, I remember most of these 80's Videos!!

 

How about you?

Duck's Silverware Shack and Stealth "Crasho" Kohl's Culinary Corner

At dinner tonight, Duck informed me that he was going to open a store called "Duck's Silverware Shack" and he needed some supplies.  So, out came my handy dandy notebook and we jotted down his list:

 

1. A couple of spoons
2. 14 forks
3. 29 knives
4. A magnetic Ferris wheel made out of silverware
5. 3 pounds of cheese
6. a small carnival
7. 9 lamp supplies
8. 1 million Christmas Trees
9. 9 pounds of salt
10. 20 magic carpets
11. 30 rings of power
12. 29 invisible guns with invisible tranquilizer darts
13. 999,999 dishes
14. 10,000 cups
    

 

Not to be outdone, Stealth decided that he needed his very own store and list.

 

 

 

Stealth "Crasho" Kohl's Culinary Corner list

 

1. a couple of spoons
2. 14 forks
3. magnetic Ferris wheel
4. 100 knives
5. 10 pepper and cheese
6. 11 bow tie pasta
7. 10 pounds of water
8. 1 Frozone Toy
9. 100 Rings
10. 1 Red video game

 

Don't know about you, but I sure as hell would shop at these places.

 

Oh yeah, they're my kids

Wow!

It's official!

 

I'm going to San Francisco for 5 days in October. 

 

No husband.  No children.

 

My dearest girlie is getting hitched to her mate and I'm gonna be there.

 

Thank you to those who are allowing this to happen. You know who you are and you know what I mean.  I love you.

 

I'm off to do a little dance now.  Okay, a very large and boisterous juicy dance.

 

Did I mention that I'll be in San Francisco for 5 days without my husband and without my children?

 

Okay.  Just checking.

 

I nearly totaled my van today

as Duck sees that we're headed to Clover's and I hear

"Oh, Snap!"

from the backseat.

That kid makes me laugh so damned hard.

Joy Darville is alive and well and living in my 6 year old son.

Sheer Brilliance!!!

Love it!!

I just wrote a whole huge post about this movie and of course, F**cking Blogger ate it.

So, I'm just gonna be short and sweet about this:
If you have any musical taste whatsoever, go out right now and watch a copy of this movie. It's mindblowingly amazing. Breathtaking, obsession worthy, dance your ass off in your living room great!

Don't believe me? Check out the cast -

Rick Danko
Levon Helm
Garth Hudson
Richard Manuel
Robbie Robertson
(The above combined Brilliance make up The Band)
Paul Butterfield
Eric Clapton
Neil Diamond
Dr. John
Bob Dylan
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Emmylou Harris
Ronnie Hawkins
Howard Johnson
Michael McClure
Joni Mitchell
Van Morrison
Pinetop Perkins
Martin Scorsese
Mavis Staples
Roebuck "Pops" Staples
Ringo Starr
Muddy Waters
Ron Wood
Neil Young


It's just that good.

Viva La Band!

The bell doesn't ring after 10 rounds at our house

There's no such thing as a TKO here.  Nope.  All matches are to the death.

 

Tyson and Ali are upstairs battling it out.  It's been going on for exactly 72 minutes.  Occasionally they take a 3 minute break to be friends, but the second those 3 minutes are up, they both come out swinging again.

 

I finally just closed the door to the ring (their bedroom) and, until coming down here to post this, have been sitting on the couch reading a book.  There's really nothing else to do.  I've checked and we're stocked on band-aids.

 

I hope like hell the stop in the next hour or so ...

 

Don King is due home in 90 minutes.

 

 

Okay Okay Okay, they're not actually making contact with each other.  It's a battle of words only (they're not  physically violent.)  But sweet Elvis on velvet, sometimes I wanna knock them both out myself.

A week and a half ago, my hard drive went up in flames.  Oh yes, but it was not in a blazing glory - no, it was in response to a freaking Disney children's computer game.  That little mouse can bite me.

 

Thankfully I bought a service plan and the whole mess didn't cost me anything other than some pictures (a tragedy) and all my freaking MP3s (a mind blowing, gut wrenching crime against humanity.) 

 

The new hard drive arrived on Monday and the tech came to my house on Tuesday to install it.  Wouldn't you freaking now it?  It was the wrong hard drive. Unreal.

 

Hard drive #2 arrives yesterday, tech arrives this morning and it wasn't the same hard drive that I originally had -it was a *better* one.  SCORE!

 

So, now I'm out to harass all my friends to pay homage to the YouSendIt gods and email me all the lovely music I need.  Check your inboxes, folks, 'cause I'm calling in some favors.

 

 

Amazing game!!

I bought this for the boys the other day and I have to say, it's just AMAZING! Now, of course, it doesn't hurt that my kids are totally obsessed with geography. TOTALLY obsessed with geography. It's freaky.

Anyway, it's just a great great computer game! Kids go around the world collecting clues to find world traveler Joe. It's like Where in the World is Carmen SanDiego, but better because there are educational videos, world maps, cultural studies, world music, *everything!*

Sincerely, this is up there with one of the best educational purchases I've made in the last year - and it was only $10 (for you locals, it's at Ann's Teacher Store.) Of course, prices will vary upon location.

To learn more, or to order if you're not in my area, Click Here

Thank you

To my girlfriend, my sister of the heart and soul, who sent me the following:

 

A zillion cd's specially selected with love

An amazing book that I cannot wait to read while soaking in the tub

A beautiful photograph with a message of love and encouragement

An inspirational card that shows that spider women spin more than just webs

An assortment of Bears that Care a bunch

Awesome Rockin' Lip Gloss that, yes, I'm going to apply right now.

 

Thank you.  Thank you.  I'm one lucky woman to have a friend like you.  I love you deeper than the sea.

And we have lost tooth #2!!

No, it's not Alice Cooper, it's Duck!

Bring on the Tooth Fairy

Duck, minus 1 tooth

Well, I've officially pulled my first tooth as a mother. Yep, good ol' Duck finally decided he was done with these two wiggly rocks in his mouth and, after B wimped out (should I get some pliers? What if there's an emergency? Our dentist doesn't work nights! Good lord!,) I finally pulled the thing.

Much screaming and jumping up and down and sincere celebration ensued.

And then Duck decided that he was gonna pull his other one on his own.
ummm yeah.

It took both me and B a good solid 10 minutes to convince him that it would be a good idea if he just waited until tomorrow to pull that other loose tooth.

After all, the Tooth Fairy has to hit the ATM.

Sheep in Wolves Clothing

There is a strange creature lurking in the world. I assure you, even if it hasn't invaded your home, there is one prowling in your neighborhood. Sly and mysterious, unpredictable and wild, cunning and manipulative, this beast strikes fear in the heart of all those whose who are even remotely intelligent and preys on those who are foolish enough to let their guards down for one small second. Oh yes, this wild thing is out there and it answers to the name of:

A six year old child.

Male or female, I've learned it makes no difference. A 6 year old is an entity all of their own. They defy definition and can make even the strongest adult drop to their knees and ask why oh why nearly 7 years ago they didn't just take a cold shower and go to sleep. Alone.

There are 2 of these things in my life that I see on a very regular basis: my own son, Duck, and Ta, the daughter of my best friend, JP. These two creatures are best friends - and mortal enemies. Well, to be honest, they're mostly friends and frankly, they are probably in love as I see them hugging each other and whispering, "I love you" into each others small ears. They do that, that is, in between moments of, "DUCK, you are NOT my friend anymore," and "Ta, if you don't leave me alone, I don't know what I'm gonna do!"

For the record, JP understands children a little bit more than I do - she has a masters degree in early education and she works as a teacher. She knows all there is to know about childhood development and I'm so grateful. There are times that I swear she was put on this planet to remind me that these little people that we intentionally brought into this world a few years ago really were not born with triple 6's on the back of their necks and they honestly are not out to suck every bit of our intellect and rationale out of our bodies.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Frankly, I think it might take a village to keep mothers from going apeshit every 12 seconds for 18 years of her life. It's not that these 6 year olds are bad - they aren't! But they are confusing.

B and I took the boys down to my friend's house yesterday so B could work on a project with J, the husband of my best friend. As our men installed a dropped ceiling in the basement, JP and I sat out on the glider in the backyard and drank margaritas while all 5 of our combined children played in the pool. At one point, Ta got pissed off and grabbed her little sister and made some sort of sound that can only be described as half wolf, half garbage disposal. It took my breath away and I looked at JP with eyes as big as moon pies - and then the biggest smile spread across my face and I laughed out loud.

"Holy Shit, JP, Duck does that, too! This makes me happier than Charlie Sheen at a hooker Outlet Mall!! I had no idea that other kids did that - I thought Duck was the only one!!"

At which JP took a swig of her Margarita and said, "See, they don't have a behavior disorder! It's just developmental!"

Well, hell. I can drink to that!

The problem in parenting, for me, comes in that I have no idea what to expect from my 6 year old. I completely understand what to expect from my 4 year old because I have already gone through all of it before, 2 years prior. I have no idea what is normal, what is behavioral, what is developmental, and what is just the little quirks that make Duck "Duck." This is a huge problem because it means one very critical thing: he's always going to be one step ahead of me. I don't have any idea what makes him tick and he's equally as confused as to why I don't know those things! C'mon, Mom, get with the program! Don't you know that this is what kids do? Um, no, Duck, I don't.

It's certainly the hardest job on the planet, this parenting gig. It's not for wimps and if you cannot hold your own, you might as well get whatever tubes you have clipped right now 'cause you'll be behind from day one and will never catch up.

They're intense. They're conniving. They make plans and plots. They scream and moan and whine and shout and stomp and demand and rage and pout and cry and criticize and control and growl and groan.

"You just gotta love 'em through it," JP says.

Yeah. Remind me of that when my 6 year old beast has his fangs out and is looking at my main artery.

But then, after the work was done and the long drive home was finished, I walked my sleepy animal to his room and tucked him in.

"Come lay with me a minute, Mama." And I did.

He held on tight and I looked into those piercing blue eyes, brushed the long, long blond hair from his forehead, and I melted into a thousand little puddles.

"Mama, I'm so proud of you. You're a rockin' lady, alright. You're my favorite thing. Good night, I love you, I'll see you in the morning."

And as I walked out of his room, I paused and looked back at his bed. There, on the floor, was a wolf's suit with fur and fangs and claws. But in that big boy bed with the Spiderman sheets slept the sweetest, most loving, cuddliest woolly sheep that ever lived.

Yeah.

I can love him through anything.

Feeling the love - some more!

So, in April, I posted about feeling the love from my friends for my 30th birthday.

Well. Let me just say that they are coming through for me again in droves for the !st (and hopefully last) Annual MP3 Crisis Benefit. I got tunes coming to me from West Virginia, San Francisco, Ireland, and even here in the po ' dunk Midwest.

Thanks friends!

But, of course, we all know you're saving your own asses, too, 'cause Elvis knows that hell hath no fury like Erzulie without her tunes.


xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Priceless is ...

the look on the library assistant's face as she checks out a zillion cds to me this morning as I try to rebuild my MP3 collection.  I can only hope that she's working tomorrow when I go back and return them all.

 

 

A week and a half ago, my hard drive went up in flames. Oh yes, but it was not in a blazing glory - no, it was in response to a freaking Disney children's computer game. That little mouse can bite me.

Thankfully I bought a service plan and the whole mess didn't cost me anything other than some pictures (a tragedy) and all my freaking MP3s (a mind blowing, gut wrenching crime against humanity.)

The new hard drive arrived on Monday and the tech came to my house on Tuesday to install it. Wouldn't you freaking now it? It was the wrong hard drive. Unreal.

Hard drive #2 arrives yesterday, tech arrives this morning and it wasn't the same hard drive that I originally had -it was a *better* one. SCORE!

So, now I'm out to harass all my friends to pay homage to the YouSendIt gods and email me all the lovely music I need. Check your inboxes, folks, 'cause I'm calling in some favors.

Designer helps birth custom wool creations and babies

From the St. Louis Post Dispatch by Deb Peterson

Sarah Kohl spins wool, knits wherever she goes, home schools her kids and assists women with labor and breast-feeding.

"Sounds like Laura Ingalls Wilder, doesn't it?" she says with a laugh.

But Kohl is definitely not a character out of the pioneer author's imagination. She started out as Sarah Wells, the youngest of three children born to the Rev. Larry Wells and his wife, Sheryl.

Wells was a minister with the United Methodist Church and Sarah spent her early school years in Glendale and Webster Groves, where her father was the minister at Webster Hills U.M.C. The church used to move ministers around every couple of years so the family also lived in Imperial and Hannibal before stopping more permanently in Jefferson City.

Sarah said her parents often commented that she was born in the wrong generation. But it wasn't Wilder's time that they were talking about, it was wilder times, such as the 1960s. Sarah was always interested in women's issues and with the idea of empowering women. She says that from an early age, she knew she wanted to "catch babies" (help women with labor and delivery), and that after a couple of years as a psychology major at Mizzou, she realized she was wasting her money. So she left college and went off to spend a summer traveling with the Rainbow People.

When she got back to Missouri, Sarah settled in Columbia, which she says felt more like home to her than Jefferson City. After dabbling in a variety of things, and continuing to hone her skills as a "doula" - a labor assistant - David Gentzsch, a friend's father who had started a business called Ozark Handspun, taught her how to spin wool.

The company now sells beautiful wool, silk and mohair yarns across the United States, Canada, France and Australia. Sarah takes it one step further, felting goods and knitting bags, scarves, shrugs, shawls, hats, baby slings and custom apparel that are each a unique creation.

How did you learn to make this stuff?

I hate to say that it was easy, but it was easy for me. I never follow a pattern, but I can figure out the math, so I know whether I need to increase or decrease stitches to make what I want.

What do you start with when you're spinning?

David starts with raw wool and mohair and he washes it and then it goes through a picker, where all the nasty junk gets combed out. Then it is died with natural and synthetic dyes and either he or I or both of us put together huge trash bags of different colored wool and mohair. Then I bring it home and I spin it.

What do your sons do while you're spinning?

I have the wheel set up right in the middle of their play room. Sage is really interested so he will sit in my lap sometimes and spin with me. I love the rhythm of it and can do it for hours.

How do you come up with your unique color schemes and design ideas - like hats with pulled out pieces of yarn that look almost like bangs or eyelashes?

I just dream them up. I might see something when I'm out with the kids and that will inspire me to do something. I think everything you look at and everything you do can be a learning experience.

Is that how you approach home schooling?

Yes. My philosophy on life has a lot to do with my philosophy about toys and children. I don't believe that there should be any learning that isn't enjoyable, and I believe that you can learn something from every enjoyable experience. It's all about balance. A trip to the car wash can be a physics lesson, for instance.

How many births do you assist every year, and are they all home births?

I did about 25 last year and they were all home births. I have decided this year that I won't take on any new clients because I want to spend more time with my kids and more time spinning and designing. I will take on repeat clients and I am a certified breast-feeding educator so I will continue to do that.

What's the best book you've read lately?

I'm reading "To Kill a Mockingbird," which is a wonderful book. I loved "The Zen Commandments," which I finished recently.

Favorite trip you've taken recently?

My husband I left Dakota and Sage with my in-laws and Brian and I took a honeymoon trip to St. James, Mo. We stayed at a B&B there and hiked and went antiquing and walked around Meramec Springs. It was a great trip.

What do you drive?

A white, 1998 Plymouth Grand Voyager SE minivan with a Grateful Dead sticker in the window, a "Birth is not an illness" bumper sticker and music blaring from all the windows.

Everyone, quick, get out your protective gear

I'm going off caffeine.

The Joys of

having long hair and an old air conditioner are not at all lost on my lovely 6 year old Duck.

Because being 4 just wears you out.

 

now, this is a Sunday

It's Sunday, B's day off.  We all woke up very early today for some reason -all four of us were up and around by 6:15 in the morning.   B got dressed and, even though it was raining, escaped for some much needed alone time at a lake with dreams of catching dinner.  He'll be back in couple of hours, drenched and happy, ready for some warm coffee and some time with the family.

 

He mowed yesterday.

The grocery shopping is done.

There is very little laundry to do.

The house isn't exactly sparkling, it's lived in, but it's acceptable.

 

While I am not an advocate of much TV watching or game playing, days like this warrant it.  I'm envisioning all of us watching a movie and pigging out on popcorn with nutritional yeast.  I see the boys playing a video game while I spin yarn off to the side.  I see a grazing lunch and an early dinner.

 

Not much to do.

 

And that's what I like to do best.

Dear Mr. Ritchie

Please move into my house. 

More specifically, my closet.

Or, under my bed would work quite nice, as well.

In fact, how about *in* my bed.

 

Thank you.

 

Love,

A woman who has always been after the kings of Skeeve Nation, the guys with long hair and a passion for loud music, fast cars, faster motorcycles, good drugs, hard liquor, and a badass streak as long as a gravel road.

 

Same as it ever was

"I could only look around me: Atticus and my uncle, who went to school at home, knew everything - at least, what one didn't know the other did.  Furthermore, I couldn't help noticing that my father had served for years in the state legislature, elected each time with out opposition, innocent of the adjustments my teachers thought essential to the development of Good Citizenship.  Jem, educated on a half-Decimal half-Duncecap basis, seemed to function effectively alone or in a group, but Jem was a poor example: no tutorial system devised by man could have stopped him from getting at books.  As for me, I knew nothing except what I gathered from Time magazine and reading everything I could lay hands on at home, but as I inched sluggishly along the treadmill of the Maycomb County school system, I could not help receiving the impression that I was being cheated out of something.  Out of what I knew not, yet I did not believe that twelve years of unrelieved boredom was exactly what the state had in mind for me."

 

Scout Finch

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

1960

Fine Print

I met with the columnist for the St. Louis Post Dispatch yesterday.  I was sort of nervous because I had no idea who this woman was, what should would be like, if I had any answers to any of the questions she was going to ask.  I mean, after all, I just kind of pull stuff out of my ass - I don't follow patterns, I just make things up as I go along.  The fact that people think that what I do is art still escapes me, regardless of how many people tell me such.

 

So at one o'clock, we sat down in some comfy leather couches and started looking at some of my designs and things I had made and also some Ozark Handspun.  Within seconds, I was totally comfortable with her.  She's lively, she's opinionated, she's funny and intelligent and has a wonderful sense of humor.

 

I looked up at the clock. It was 3 in the afternoon and she'd not written anything down yet!  Oh yeah, this is an interview for a newspaper!  Maybe we should take some notes!

We'd been laughing and hooting and talking like hens in a nest, cluck cluck cluck.  Like girlfriends over a margarita, we had leaned back on the couches, pulled our knees up (you know how we do, ladies,) and just had a grand old time!  WHAT FUN to make such a sincere connection to someone with whom my path most likely would have never crossed!

 

Out comes the note pad and 30 minutes of fast and furious note taking later, we ventured outside for some photographs and, of course, more laughter.  We parted ways with a big hug and her assurance that she would swat my dear friend JFL on the ass upon her return to the Dispatch (gotta love that!)

 

I think that the column will be fantastic.  I guess we'll find out soon - it will be published on Tuesday.

 

Oh yeah, and as an unexpected bonus - she bought $175 of my stuff!

 

That's some fine journalism.  Cannot wait to see the fine print!

 

Well how about that?

It seems I'll be having an interview tomorrow at noon with a columnist for the St. Louis Post Dispatch.  Crazy where a fiber obsession will take you.

I'm done

I don't wanna be a mother anymore

I don't wanna be a cook anymore

I don't wanna be a maid anymore

I don't wanna be a laundress anymore

I don't wanna be a teacher anymore

I don't wanna be the referee anymore

I don't wanna hear them fight anymore

I don't wanna hear those annoying fucking noises anymore

I don't wanna get drinks anymore

I don't wanna get snacks anymore

I don't wanna do this anymore

 

 

They say it's your birthday!

It's my sister's 38th birthday!  WOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOO!

 

Happy Birthday, Beckafra.

 

xoxoxoxoxo