Back On Mom Duty

Heh. I said duty.

At work, we take turns at kitchen duty. Each week, one of us is in charge of keeping the kitchen neat and tidy, wiping off the counters, unloading the dishwasher, taking out the trash and hounding everyone else to remove their slimy, expired things from the fridge.

Apparently, I'm considered to be someone who needs tending, so as the time neared for my daughter to go away to school (last August), everyone at work wondered who was going to be on Me Duty when the boss was gone. (Didn't you know she was in charge for 18 years?)

The college girl is coming home for the summer tomorrow. There's food in the fridge - not just to-go containers, half-and-half for my coffee and wine, but actual food. Ooh ... and her bedroom wall is really really pretty. I need to post those photos, but the flash drive with the pics is all the way downstairs. The bathroom still needs a few touches ... like, um, rehanging the door. I figure the other things can be a team project. At least her bedroom doesn't look like a construction zone any longer.

Thanks to everyone who fed and watched over me for the past several months, I didn't die of starvation and didn't get into too much trouble. Not that anyone knows of, anyway. So y'all can have the summer off now. I have in-home care again.

Sandra Abbott Strikes Again

I tried my first martini tonight. Actually, I tried nine. No - I didn't drink all nine of them, even though they were small and my friend thought they were a bit watered down. We dumped most of three of them, and I asked for half glasses on the others. The bartenders didn't always hear me, but still I asked.

Oh, Sandra Abbott? The friend who dragged me to the Old Town Martini March tonight created a bit of a stir in high school when she invented a student named Sandra Abbott. And not just any student - Sandra was a sophomore who ran for student council - and won with more votes than any other sophomore. Oh, those were the days.

To be fair, my friend didn't actually drag me tonight, though I was a bit skeptical at first. I enjoy a nice glass or two of wine (next month there's a Wine Walk) but I haven't touched the harder stuff in years. But most of the martinis were actually quite tasty.

So earlier today I was whining about needing meaning and purpose in my life. I finally cleaned the bathroom and did some serious vacuuming and dusting in the rest of the house. And did some yard work. I don't know if all that or the drinks tonight gave me clarity, but at least I didn't spend the day wallowing. That's something, right?

Need a topic, a mission ... a something

I'm stuck and need to get unstuck. I haven't been blogging lately, and it's partly because my brain has been tied up in knots. Dear friends have been patiently, lovingly listening to me whine or responding to my whiny e-rants. And they say or write such lovely, sustaining, affirming things so I can't just completely hunker down and wallow in my self-focused bog.

I also need to clean the bathroom. Maybe I'll find some clarity and purpose there.

One Giant Bathroom

That's what the world is to dogs. I'm pretty sure.

I just watched a friend's dog for two days. And pretty much my every waking moment was focused on making sure the dog had ample opportunity to use the outdoor facilities. I have toyed with the idea of having a dog. I love the idea of being a dog person. I really like BIG dogs especially. But all this worry about elimination just wiped me out.

Har-dee-har.

Rennie (small dog, but not too yippy, thank goodness) and I took several nice walks around the neighborhood and to the park. She has meticulously sniffed and properly marked every inch of the backyard. As we were walking yesterday morning I had the profound thought about the giant bathroom. Partly because Rennie had to pause to pretend to pee about every other step, but also because I noticed how we humans seem to think the world is our giant trashcan. At least doggie doo is biodegradable (although there's some debate about the carbon impact of poo). But all those plastic bags and foam cups and broken toys and miscellaneous unwanted junk? That stuff is here FOREVER.

Somewhat random thought: Poo Pets are useful little critters carefully crafted of cow manure by Amish craftsmen. That's two funny.

Happy Easter, Esther

We always say this in our family. And I know it's not technically Easter just yet. But somewhere in the middle of the night the mystical moment will occur. (No, not when the Easter Bunny arrives.)

Esther was my sister's mother-in-law's sister. So we were a little bit related. She was always at family gatherings - lived well into her 80s. In the last year or two Esther was on Earth she lived in one of those apartment complexes for seniors - I'm not sure if it was "assisted" or "independent" living, but she was pretty spunky up 'til the end. One night, they had a dance. Esther loved dancing. She had a great time whirling about the room, then sat down to rest ... and that was it. At the memorial service, the priest said she danced right into Heaven. What a great way to go.

This is my first Easter all by myself. I think I just realized that. Lizz decided to stay at school so she could attend a friend's baptism today and go to a sunrise service tomorrow. I guess I'm not really by myself. Claudette is here meowing to get into my lap and I'm dog-sitting a friend's dog, Rennie, who is quietly sitting here as I type although I think she wants to go o-u-t-s-i-d-e. I've asked her to be patient just a few more minutes.

So on my first Easter Eve alone (human-wise) I spent the evening baking cupcakes. This was one of two tasks my sister gave me for tomorrow's meal: Fruit salad and "cupcakes the way Busha (former mother-in-law) made them." White cake, boiled frosting, a nest of coconut and jelly beans. Now I'm no slouch in the kitchen. Baked goods and confections especially. I often make cutout cookies - eggs, bunnies, carrots, etc. with my almond buttercream frosting. But I thought cupcakes would be "easier." Silly me. I think I need to go to boiled frosting school. The cupcakes were a piece of cake (ha!). But after beating egg whites until stiff (no problem), boiling the sugary syrup to softball stage (also no problem) I blended together (for six minutes) a mixture that got increasingly stickier and more gooey and ended up with a melted marshmallowy-like substance that I ended up dunking the cupcakes in and swirling rather than spreading.

I hope everyone will forgive me tomorrow. At least there's fruit. And perfect cupcakes aren't the point anyway, right?

OK, Rennie. Time for a walk.

Mmmm ... Sectinos and Cheese

I was proofreading today and caught a tiny little spelling error I'd missed earlier - I think I skimmed over it previously because it looked like a real word: sectinos.

Humor is always good to use when covering up proofreading misses, I think. Sectinos sounds like something tasty you could order at an Italian restaurant. "I'll have the ravioli with sectinos ... and yes, I'd love some grated Parmesan and freshly ground black pepper, thank you very much."

Some spelling errors are more egregious (can you be more egregious?) than others - like when I worked at the public health department and saw a brochure they'd printed 5000 of that was missing the 'l' on Public in just about every instance - particularly all headlines. This was during one of my 27 other jobs (and back in the medical career phase) so I was not the communications person responsible for that gaffe, thank goodness. Thusly, I found just a wee bit of joy pointing it out.

OK. This is funny. I thought I'd better look up sectinos just in case it was something obscene. This is a family blog, after all. I don't even say the "b" word here. So it's a pretty common typo, it seems. Google even asks very politely if I meant to search for sections. And Wikipedia, too. So now that I've consulted all reputable sources ...

I think I've found me a new word. Cool.

Flatulent Monkey

Isn't that classy? That's my favorite Bananagrams contribution to date. Felt especially fancy after putting that on the table when playing with K last night. Was also feeling pretty quick and clever as I was zipping along creating words at an impressive speed. K won anyway.

Banagrams is my new favorite game. It's a little like playing Scrabble, only about a bazillian times more fun. Lizz and I played non-stop last weekend. Played at home on the dining room table in the evening and at breakfast. Played again at Fralia's while we ate lunch ... then at the Red Eye as we sipped coffee and chai. And the next day at Panera during dinner.

Here I am mid-game - after having eaten some chocolate chip cookies

Here's the happy college girl after winning a hand

Evidence of our brilliant vocabularies (mine on the left ... hey, can you have more than one dew?? Check that out on the right or below or wherever it shows up on your browser)

My Cabbage-Patch sore loser face

The next time I come up with something as sophisticated as describing a gaseous simian, I'll be sure to take a picture.