Boobs

Boobs are a weird thing, or rather, weird things, aren’t they? Most girls can’t wait to get them, then spend much of their lives fussing with them, or over them. They become the object of attention because they’re so big or so small or so exposed or so decorated. They fill out or not. They fill up with milk then deflate. They give us pleasure and pain and pain in the ass (when you’re trying to find a blouse that buttons, easily). They get stretch marks. They sag. You can buy new, improved boobs. And as an aside – aren’t all the chicks with boob jobs going to look funny in the nursing home??? I actually saw a video with a topless aging porn star once and when she bent over (oh, the jokes just write themselves, don’t they?) the implants sort of pooled at the, um, bottom of the boob. There was a narrow channel of flesh turned them into pendulums. It was beyond icky.

Me – I am amply endowed. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight lately and the girls – they retain their girth. I even am sort of planning on beginning to whine about back problems (another few pounds down the road) and see if I can get a medically necessary reduction/overhaul done on them. Scars be damned! I want a Victoria Secret bra, damn it!

Why write about boobs? Because one of my dearest blogger friends (and I know her IRL), Kathy, just found out she has breast cancer. She’s scheduled for a double bilateral mastectomy next Wednesday. I hopehopehope that the lymph nodes come back clear. In a recent entry, she said some people wonder ‘why me?’ and she wonders ‘why not me?’. Oh, and she’s going to be the Norah Desmond of breast cancer – all drama, all the time.

She’s an amazingly strong woman who’s had some intense challenges in her life over the last few years. I respected and admired her courage in the face of all of it. She’s reaching a whole new status with me – superfricking human. I want to help, but don’t know how.

Boobs. How can masses of fatty tissue and ducts be so damn complicated?

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This and That

Things seem very placid at my house. Husband and I are loving and kind to each other, 15 year old is well and busy, 21 year old is back at school at out from underfoot (and back with him went the messiness he creates just by BEING). The optimist in me wants to believe that this is the preschool for a whole new stage in life – one where Mark and I can take off without worrying about a child at home, or where/how to get him somewhere if we don’t get back at a certain time. The stage where we don’t find much of anything that annoys the other in the course of a day. I don’t know what it is, but it’s good. Maybe it’s the weight loss? Can we attribute everything to that?

I had travel plans to Florida last week, but got derailed by the lousy weather here. Not to worry – the airline issued a credit and I have to make it down there sometime this spring, so it will be used. I’m traveling to a BIG meeting next week in Dallas. It’s a long, important meeting that can make me want to bury my thumb in my eye sometimes, but also one I don’t want to miss. Like I have a choice… Anyway, there’s always a dinner on Wednesday night that is somewhere off site and fun. This year, it’s at the new Cowboy’s stadium! Dinner and a tour of the facilities (hopefully, the locker rooms, too!). I’ve been a Cowboy fan forever, so this is a pretty big deal. Mark hates the Cowboys, but wanted to come along just to see the giant TV screen. No spouses allowed, and anyway, I’ve endured too many years of Cowboy bashing to ever let him benefit in any way. Redskins. Ha!

I’m off to a conference in Las Vegas in February. I haven’t been there since 1982, so I’m anxious to see how it’s changed. I’m not much of a gambler (ok, really no gambler at all), but am going to take $20 to blow. I realize, in gambling circles, that’s not even worth mentioning, but in my fiscally responsible world, it seems like about $19 too much! Part of me hopes for one of those bizarre wins that you hear about, “I won $2500 on the 3rd pull!”, but my guess is that I’d be better off spending it in a shop somewhere. Or buying 20 lottery tickets. In fact, I need to do that if I ever want to lure my beautiful niece back home to live in the house I’m going to buy her.

Speaking of beautiful nieces, my youngest niece (daughter of my brother that passed away in 2008), stopped out for a visit on Saturday. Saturday would have been Jim’s 57th birthday. I sent all of the girls a text message, telling them that I was thinking of them and thanking their dad for being their father so I could be their aunt. Alex texted back and said she was going to the cemetery (not far from my house), so I told her to come over. We had a great chat about some pretty important things – girl to grown up girl – just like I used to do with the other when they were her age. I felt so close to her and was glad that we are getting closer. I’m taking her out for sushi on Thursday and plan to make a standing date with her. I missed too many years getting to know her and want to do what I can to be a part of her life. She’s a really good girl and I’m proud of her. Her conception and birth were a turning point for my brother (she and the other three have different mothers). He spiraled down and got a bit lost, but always kept her in his life. I never realized until Saturday how proud I was of him for that. We were talking about how many of her friends were pregnant or have children already (she won’t be 17 until March! WTF????), and I asked about the baby’s daddies – did she know them? Were they in their children’s lives? Some were, some weren’t, some didn’t know the baby was theirs or the girl was pregnant. I told her that her dad ALWAYS wanted her in his life, he worked hard even when the rest of his world was askew, to be a solid for her. She got a little teary when she said ‘I know’. I didn’t say anything more, but I figured she needed to hear that from me.

Speaking of nieces, I’m taking Mark’s niece (niece in law? What’s the proper term for your husband’s brother’s daughter? Just niece doesn’t seem right) for a girls day on Saturday. We’re going for manicures, lunch and a little shopping or something. She needs the girl time and I need to step up for her. She has a long, long road ahead and will need all the support she can get.

One of the blogs I read, Just Eat Your Cupcake, had a very thought provoking entry today. The bottom line – always – is that there is not enough love in the world. Period. We need to quit trying to force a single definition on people. I don’t care who you experience love with – as long as it’s not a child. If you do, you should be gutted like a fish. I don’t care what kind of baggage you have. Gutted. Or field dressed, if you prefer. In fact, I’ve wondered more than once how the parents of a child that was molested STOP THEMSELVES from killing, or at the least horribly maiming, the perpetrator. I’m not sure I could contain myself.

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A Big 3-0

Thirty. Pounds. Thirty. That’s how much I’ve shed since my terrifying September 10 doctor appointment. Where I validated that I not only felt like a TICK, I looked like one, too. I honestly considered checking into the lap band thing. The husband was against it, of course, and I knew it wouldn’t be covered by insurance, so didn’t know if I could save up the $$ to pay for it in any kind of decent time frame. Plus, I know of at least 5 people who had the band or gastric bypass surgery that have gained all or most back of what they lost. I know, I know, it’s all in your HEAD. You have to change how your head works. And eat less. And move more. Hey, I should write a book!

That’s about 10 pounds a month. I made a real commitment to making a change in October. And asked for a Wii Fit for my birthday in November. Toss in my darling husband’s commitment to feeling/looking better and I’m really starting to feel like a new(er) person.

It’s kind of scary, though. I’ve been here before, more times than I want to count. It’s the typical weight loss story. Lose some weight, gain it back. And a few more pounds for good measure. I’ve always said it would be much easier if only you didn’t have to eat SOME FOOD to stay alive. I could just QUIT eating. With my personality, that would be much easier than finding a way to moderate. I’m not much good at moderation. Ahem. Like when I quit smoking…I just quit and never smoked again.

So anyhoo….my jeans are all too big (except the one expensive pair I bought more years ago than I want to admit and couldn’t stand to give up – I wore them NY Eve!), my tops still fit (the girls are the last thing to reduce…). I’ll be limping along without any new clothes until I lose another 20 lbs. or so. And then I’ll hit the thrift shops. The pickings should be much more plentiful.

I should be over the top thrilled. Instead, I keep thinking that my Wii says I need to lose twice as much more as I’ve already lost. Ninety pounds. That’s one good anorexic. Ok, that was bad.

I have a love/hate relationship with people noticing my weight loss. I’m uncomfortable with most mentions of it and tell them that when I turned 50 I had new motivation – leaving a good looking corpse.

Sick, I know. But whatever works, huh?

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Glad They’re Not My Kid

I know that I’m a little on the short side for smarmy motherhood type feelings. I can be empathetic/sympathetic, certainly, but I save it for when it’s genuinely warranted. I’m more like my dad (ok, a lot like my dad) and am more apt to tell the boys to get over it, life is better than this crappy moment and feeling sorry for yourself makes everyone miserable. You know, the cup half full kind of thing. In fact, if your cup is half empty, get a smaller cup. It’s all relative.

I am also realistic. What possible point could there be to spending ANY money on presents for kids that don’t have a clue what’s going on? Danny never even had a present from Santa until he was 3. And we didn’t put any presents under the tree for either of them until the Santa thing had run its course. We also never gave them clothes for Christmas. They were boys. If they needed clothes, they needed them NOW. Grandma gave them clothes, but fun stuff, like a Bulls Starter jacket for Danny and a pair of flannel pjs she made for David. In fact, I think this year is the very first time we gave them clothes for Christmas. And they were well received – but that’s because they were things the I wouldn’t normally spend the money on. You know, AE jeans and other overpriced stuff.

Come to think of it – I don’t believe either of them got a present from ‘Santa’ until they were at least 3. We were pretty poor, never used credit cards, and I knew the extended family was buying for them, so figured why bother? Should that qualify me for the Bad Mom of the Year award?

We have never gone crazy with presents. 4 or 5 is about the limit. It did make it a bit awkward at one specific family gathering I remember when the cousins had mounds and mounds of gifts and the boys only had 2 or 3. It gave us a good opportunity to talk about what excess is and how in the end it’s all just STUFF.

I’ll tell you what we did give our boys – a real sense of appreciation and thankfulness. And unfailing courtesy. They are two of the best mannered kids you’ll ever meet. Please and thank you, always. I know that if we had overwhelmed them with crap and given them everything they ever wanted or thought they wanted, they would be jaded to the joy that is receiving. There is no personality trait more obnoxious than a lack of appreciation.

So – if my lack of (s)mothering emotions is bad, then I’ll take how my kids are turning out. Am I perfect? HOOWEE, NO! I’ve yelled and stomped around and generally made an ass of myself on more than one occasion. I’ve wiped away tears, then swatted a butt and chewed them out many, many times, when needed. They are bit afraid of me, and I’m good with that, too. A little fear is a good thing. They know that I support them when they make good decisions, and stand ready to call them out when they make dumb ones. As a result, their self esteems are healthy and they know that when they get approval from me, it’s for their efforts and not just to make them feel good about themselves. Self esteem is earned, not given, in our house.

Can you tell? Someone told me today that they felt sorry for my children and were glad they weren’t MY kid. They meant it, too. I looked them in the eye and screamed at them in my mind “You wouldn’t act like such a spoiled brat if you WERE my kid, that’s for damn sure.”

I just smiled and told them to check back with me in a few more years and see if my mothering style did any permanent damage.

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I’m Such A Slacker

It’s been so long since I posted. I think about it more than occasionally, but things get so busy. I don’t know how people do it every day. Maybe I’m just too concerned about who is reading and what I’m writing. Or something. Or maybe I’m just a big slacker.

We had a nice Thanksgiving. I spent the day before with niece Amy and her little boy. We cooked and just generally did girl stuff together. She was like a sponge – and did very well with specific instruction. I can see how she could have trouble learning in conventional environments. For instance, if I gave her verbal instructions on how to do something, she faltered and just couldn’t put it together. But if I showed her, she caught on right away. No wonder regular classroom was tough for her. In any case, it was a nice day with her and a nice holiday. We played ‘Apples to Apples’ around the table after dinner and had so much fun.

Let’s see….what else? I got a Wii Fit for my birthday. And am about 24 lbs. lighter in the last 6-8 weeks. I’m going to tell you the secret of how I’m doing it – I’M EATING LESS AND MOVING MORE. Someone should write a book! Actually, Mark got on the fitness bandwagon and has lost about 25 lbs. He shamed me into it. And I went to the doctor. My blood sugar/pressure was ok, but my cholesterol is 300. ZOIKS. Anyway, I feel better, he feels better. After turning 50, I’m ready to think about leaving a good looking corpse. Sick. I know. Hey. Whatever it takes! I need to lose AT LEAST 40 more lbs. At least. Maybe 60. How scary is that?

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Yummy. Just Plain Yummy.

I commented on Kathy’s blog about the awesome chicken recipe she made and mentioned that I’d made chicken lettuce wraps. Ruth asked for the recipe, so I typed it up and sent it – with a lot of running commentary. These are so darned good. And so good left over the next day. I want them again for supper tonight!  These are spicy – which adds to the yumminess – but if you’re a gringo, let up on the pepper flakes a bit…

Jean’s Lettuce Wraps

3 -1/2 chicken breasts (I used the frozen ones mostly thawed – hey, I was in a hurry!-you could use about a pound of ground chicken, too)
1- can water chestnuts, sliced
1- 8 oz box white mushrooms
3- green onions (I use regular onion, about a 1/4 cup, on occasion when I’m out of scallions)
1- T oil
Lettuce leaves (Bibb is best, but whatever you have works!) Grated carrots

Sauce – make this first so it’s ready to go – I double the recipe and keep the extra in a jar in the fridge so I don’t’ have to bother making it every time. It makes almost more than you need, so don’t add it all at once to the meat/mushroom mixture.

1/4 cup water
1 1/2 tsp cornstarch
1/3 cup soy sauce (I use low sodium)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup vinegar (regular old cider vinegar, but I suppose rice vinegar would work too)
1 T sesame oil
1 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 tsp garlic chili paste (my little grocery store has it, so it must be widely available! Small clear plastic jar with a green lid – if you don’t have this, add some finely minced garlic)
1 tsp grated ginger (tip – I buy a big knob of ginger and keep it in the freezer then use my smallest grater whenever I need some. It grates up like a dream and is always fresh!)

Combine water and cornstarch until dissolved. Combine this slurry and remaining ingredients in small sauce pan. Bring to boil then reduce heat and simmer until it thickens a little – 2 or 3 minutes.

Process the chicken in a food processor until finely ground. Clean out processer and grind mushrooms, water chestnuts and green onions until very fine. Sautee the ground chicken in large skillet until no longer pink. Add mushroom mixture. Sautee for a few minutes – just to take the raw edge off of the mushrooms. Add sauce and simmer until the filling is set and not very juicy. This may take a little bit. Let it cool just a tad – stir it frequently – or it wilts the lettuce immediately.

Run a few carrots on the grater blade in the processor to make shreds.

Put a nice amount in a lettuce leaf, top with the carrots and enjoy! I get a craving for these almost once a week. I tried adding the mushrooms to the recipe to stretch the meat (teenage boys!), but it ended up that they were a perfect and healthy addition!

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Meme. And Stuff.

Danny was home over the weekend. It was good to have him around again. He spent most of his time with us (?) and requested meatloaf and mashed potatoes for Sunday dinner, which I was happy to provide. He’s decided (at least for today) to work towards law school, with an ag focus. He’s so capable – I’m convinced that short of majoring in math, he could do anything that he wanted. As long as it’s not TOO much work. He’s had a pretty easy ride of it – he’s always had really really good reading comprehension – so if he meets with something that makes him feel like he can’t do it, or might fail, he’d rather NOT do it. To be fair, this doesn’t happen often or I’d be all over him about it, but mostly he just likes to be confident in his success before he starts. That’s so his dad!

David was ill over the weekend, but thought he was well enough to go to school today (no temperatures). I got a call and he was on his way home. Hope it’s not the NASTY flu, but the odds aren’t good that it isn’t.

Now – a cheat. A meme. I kind of like these. They make me think about myself and my life.

1. What kind of SOAP is in your bathtub right now? Dial. Is there another soap? I like girlie soaps, but living with men, I don’t bother putting it in the shower.
2. Do you have any watermelon in your refrigerator? No. But I have fresh raspberries. Mmmmmm.
3. What would you change about your living room? The light. I want my ceiling fan back. And the curtains. I have white sheers up (since the remodel). I’m waiting to buy real drapes after I get a new couch.
4. Are the dishes in your dishwasher clean or dirty? Clean
5. What is in your fridge? Fruits, veggies, soy milk, milk, lots and lots of condiments
6. White or wheat bread? Wheat, but I’m on a Flatout kick right now. They ROCK.
7. What is on top of your refrigerator? A couple of fly swatters
8. What color or design is on your shower curtain? Shower door. With some scum I need to get off.
9. How many plants are in your home? The Alcatraz jade plant will be back in soon from it’s summer vacation. Same with the fig tree and the rubber plant.
10. Is your bed made right now? Maybe. If Mark did it.
11. Comet or Soft Scrub? Neither. Mr. Clean Erasers
12. Is your closet organized? Mostly yes. I clean it out about once a year.
13. Can you describe your flashlight? Monster black MagLight, baby!
14. Do you drink out of glass or plastic most of the time at home? Glass. Clear only.
15. Do you have iced tea made in a pitcher right now? Nope. The sun tea jar gets put away by Labor Day.
16. If you have a garage, is it cluttered? It’s in a constant state of upset – it’s a workshop more than a garage.
17. Curtains or blinds? Some of both
18. How many pillows do you sleep with? One. But I like to prop up to read with the one in the sham.
19. Do you sleep with any lights on at night? No, but they don’t’ bother me.
20. How often do you vacuum? Ummmm. Every week. Or so. Or sooner. Depends on the tracking in. I have a new vacuum that I thought would inspire me. No such luck.
21. Standard toothbrush or electric? Standard
22. What color is your toothbrush? Green and white
23. Do you have a welcome mat on your front porch? A mat, but not a welcome mat. Wipe your feet!
24. What is in your oven right now? Pizza stone
25. Is there anything under your bed? Good laws, yes. The silver. Shoe boxes full of pictures. Dust bunnies.
26. Chore you hate doing the most? Windows.
27. What retro items are in your home? Dishes.
28. Do you have a separate room that you use as an office? Yes, a teeny one
29. How many mirrors are in your home? 4
30. Do you have any hidden emergency money around your home? Oh, yes. Cash is king.
31. What color are your walls? Taupe, mostly. The bathroom is olive
32. Do you keep any kind of protection weapons in your home? Yes, but I’d have to club an intruder to death with it.
33. What does your home smell like right now? Meatloaf
34. Favorite candle scent? Patchouli!
35. What kind of pickles (if any) are in your refrigerator right now? Dill, sweet and two kinds of relish.
36. What color is your favorite Bible? Green – the Living Bible.
37. Ever been on your roof? Sure! I’m not afraid of heights. And our house has a door that takes you up on the roof!
38. Do you own a stereo? You betcha! Love me some tunes.
39. How many TVs do you have? Embarassing – 5.
40. How many house phones? 4
41. Do you have a housekeeper? Tried to. She fired me for bitching about the job she did (hey, the cobweb was there for a month!!!)
42. What style do you decorate in? Classic, kind of old school overstuffed. Comfy.
43. Do you like solid colors in furniture or prints? Solid for large pieces, prints for small
44. Is there a smoke detector in your home? Several. And Carbon Monoxide detectors, too.
45. In case of fire, what are the items in your house which you’d grab if you only could make one quick trip? Silver, jewelry box, dvds of the kids!

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Something Old, Something New

The wedding was very, very nice. I am, however, amazed at the large percentage of the general populace that don’t really operate on time schedules. Start times, end times, opening times, closing times, picture times, flower times – all optional. Just so whatever the process/project/activity is happens in the GENERAL vicinity of the time stated. It.makes.me.crazy. Have I spent too long in corporate America – with a clock ruling my life from the time the alarm goes off until my last meeting of the day? Have I trailbossed too many organizations through projects? Prodding and calling and reminding and stressing? And, on the other end, been smugly satisfied at the praise/recognition that came from a well planned, well executed event? Of course I have. That’s part of who I am. I’m a timely girl, at my very core, and nothing makes me more stressed out than timing issues.

I guess my question would be – do the folks that don’t adhere to a schedule – any schedule, take your pick – have anywhere near the stress I do about being late? Or even the potential to be late? Do they feel panicky and speed their pace up a notch or two? Or is it just me?

So – I probably drove everyone crazy in the house. I learned many new things about our housemates. Some of whom I am impressed with that I thought I wasn’t impressed with, who is a genuine princess-and not in a good way, who is not-so-nice when they need a nap. I am glad to know and be related to most of them. Life is short, so I’m not going to dwell on the negative.

I am going to dwell on how gorgeous my niece looked. And how the love flowed between her and her now-husband as they stood together, taking their vows. And the glorious sunset over Puget Sound through the wall of windows at the wedding location. And how truly, deeply lovely my other nieces are. NYC Niece is particularly sweet to her core. I hope she finds the same of kind of joy and love I felt in that room. It was so much fun to immerse myself in girl stuff. It took two of three showers to wash off the testosterone soup that I swim in daily in my house. I love my boys, all of them, but I long for girl stuff. If I win the lottery, I’m going to pay NYC Niece to come home so I can have her to myself more than a few hours a year.

And Maria’s comment was right on target. There are many other ailments that Dad could have had. I shouldn’t have jumped to the conclusion that it was cancer. He called last night and got the diagnosis – hiatal hernia. Nothing medically to be done for him, he just needs to slow down when he eats and watch what causes the problems, then quit eating that. My guess is, from sitting across the table from him for 20 years, is that he’s NOT CHEWING HIS FOOD WELL ENOUGH. My oldest eats the same way. It’s fairly gross to watch, and he chokes once in a while, too. Gah. Boys!

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Threes

My dad is 89.3 years old. He’s smaller than he was and a bit less fearsome, but he’s still a formidable force in my life. He and I are much alike. I used to think that was not a tremendously good thing. But then I Grew Up and realized that so many of the traits that he passed on to me are really valuable in the real world. You know, money management skills (his theory – basically, just don’t spend any), a fabulous work ethic (you can call in from your death bed, but that’s about it), pragmatism (it is what it is – figure out how to make it work with what you’ve got), and the forever knowledge that he loved my mother. I may have wondered a time or two (or three) if he really cared that he had children, but he truly loved her. He is an only child and is mostly a one person, person. You know, like a dog that really only needs one person in their world. After Mom died, he needed us kids to help him with everything. That’s the very first time he’s ever really needed us. Then he met Laura. And she became his ‘person’. My feelings about her/them is an entirely different post, but suffice to say that she fills that spot for him now and he doesn’t seem to need us anymore.

I talked with him last Friday and he told me that he’d been to a specialist for a test. Come to find out, he’s been having problems swallowing all summer. Food seems to go partway down and then gets stuck. Sometimes even water won’t go down. He’s lost some weight (and didn’t have much extra to lose) and decided to call his doctor before they go back to Arizona later this month. He had a barium upper GI done and is waiting for the results.

I’m not normally a doom and gloomer, but with a few clicks of the mouse, I became one. He has the classic symptoms of esophageal cancer. And it doesn’t sound like there’s much to be done if that’s the case. There’s a 30% (30%!!!) fatality rate with surgery and given his age, I’m sure that wouldn’t even be an option. Radiation is tricky and seems to be palliative only.

So – we wait. And wait. And Mark and I are leaving for Seattle on Thursday for the wedding. Part of me hopes to know what’s going on before we leave and part of me wants to have no answer so I don’t have it hanging over my head.

Deaths come in threes.

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Quit Bugging Me.

Are there some things that just drive you crazy? Sometimes silly, little thing that just hit that exposed nerve and make you cry out in the wilderness ‘NOOOOOOOO’.

I have some of those things in my life. Things that grate on my nerves. Why, you might ask, do I let any of these things bother me for even a moment? I don’t know, I tell you. I don’t know.

So – in no particular order – things that BUG me:
• Misspelling on signage. Just this morning, I saw a big sign by the side of the road, obviously (semi) professionally done, advertising for a beauty shop. It read: Hair Cuts, Manicures, Pedicures, Massage Therpist on duty. What the hell is up with that? There was a sign that went up on a large building (home of a former home center) across the entire front, the lettering taking up every square inch of the space, and the word Professional was misspelled. Two Fs. PROFFESSIONAL. These were big (probably 3+ ft tall) lighted acrylic letters. ARGH! Is there no such thing as SPELL CHECK, people????
• Cars that drive and drive and drive AT HIGHWAY SPEEDS on toy tires.
• People that text while driving. For the love of gawd, QUIT.
• Passive aggressive behavior. That’s a whole ‘nother post.
• People that ask you to lunch, then text their boyfriends or someone obviously more interesting than you the entire time. It’s beyond rude. The next time – and I mean it, you know who you are – that happens, I’m getting up and walking out. Hell, I don’t even know where my cell phone is most of the time.
• People who pull into gas stations and stop at the first pump. Pull all the way through, will you?
• People (um, I’m seeing a trend here) that get to the cashier and acted amazed that they now need to get their damn money out and pay. After you put your crap on the belt or the counter, get your damn wallet out.

Sigh.

My darling nieces lovely grandfather passed away and was buried yesterday. It was such a loving service, but I was so saddened to see his widow, who has Alzheimers, grieve over and over fresh. She obviously wasn’t processing the fact that he was dead, so each time she heard it, she mourned anew. What an awful, horrible disease. NYCNiece and PortlandNiece both made it back for the funeral. SeattleNiece is somewhere in South America, I think, and didn’t make it back.

Only a few days before we take off for Seattle! I really really really hope that the wind generator is up and functioning before we leave! It’s raining today, so work is on hold, dang it. It’s built and is waiting to be craned up into place!

The first school board meeting was uneventful. Who said it was hard???

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