Was it something I said?

The germ attack just continues. Poor Tali had gone to bed last night after complaining of dizziness and not feeling so good only to be awoken to a not so pleasant stomach virus. Scissors being the good Daddy that he is and not wanting her to feel lonely in her misery, joined her around 4:00 am with the same bug. I stayed home yet again today to just keep redoing laundry and tend to the sick. That, and I catnapped most of the morning as I was up quite a bit with the sick crew throughout the night.

Thankfully, the worst of it was over by 6:00 am for Tali - Scissors, not so much. I went in to check on him this morning and Louie was lying up on the bed with him. He growled at me! Louie, that is; Scissors was too sick to growl. Louie really takes protecting his Daddy quite seriously. Although he made up for it by abandoning him this evening to come lay by my feet (again Louie, not Scissors).

So, on a humorous note - Tali's school did a course of study and presentations on former presidents a month or two back. Tali's president was William Howard Taft. The children wrote stump speeches themselves and then had to dress up as the president and deliver them. What follows is Tali's turn as William Howard Taft. My camera was completely out of focus, but you'll get the idea. The children of the school voted in three categories and ole "Big Bill" won as president with the best personality. I suspect it had something to do with the moustache.



G'night.

Ambivalence rears its ugly head...

I'm not sure what I'm doing of late. I have sat down to write a post, well two times anyway, and stared at the page. I have to say that I'm feeling a bit self-indulgent about blogging. Maybe cynical. That and my computer connection was screwed up for a couple of days, perhaps that's part of the cynicism. I started out blogging for a creative outlet and some days it's all I can do to think of what to actually post. It seemed at some point I actually wrote something. With being sick, I didn't feel like putting on the computer. Now I find that it just zaps too much of my time. I don't know.

I'd let you in on a little of my thought process, but my mind is racing so that I can't always keep up. I find myself getting into worry mode as the school year approaches the downhill slope. What will the summer bring? What services do we need to address on Julian's IEP? How is he progressing? Time for a new evaluation? Same doctor or new doctor? Are we doing enough? How is Tali holding up to the rigors of school? Will I lose my job? Will I keep my job? And so forth and so on.

So hey, glad you stopped by? The good news is - I'm not one to wallow.

This cart is parked on the campus of Tali's music school. There is a website that has everyday objects as faces that I must find to send it to.

 

I don't mean to imply that life is bad - it's not. Life is beautiful. And what is life without worry? Well, I think that's actually checkout time. I signed up for the late checkout, thank you very much.

RABBIT RABBIT

...and I am that pipe smoking rabbit.

Okay, that would certainly explain my absence of late in a simple nutshell.

We had a death in Scissor's family - his only aunt which really has us all shaken up. She passed away on the Fast of Esther, the day before Purim and was buried on Purim. There's not much I can say right here without feeling that I am diminishing the effect on our family. She was a Holocaust survivor, along with my mother-in-law. They were the only survivors from their immediate family. If they talked once a day, they talked seven times a day. You may recall her being the topic of the great Salami Trafficking Post HERE. She was a dear soul, as sweet and gentle as the day is long and we'll miss her terribly.

On the heels of that, I seem to have contracted a nasty strain of upper respiratory flu which had me sidelined until pretty much today. The same flu that hospitalized my MIL who is now home and resting comfortably, thank G-d.

And where last we left off in this story, Julian had Scarlet Fever and when we sent him back to school, they called for us to pick him up. It seems the teacher convinced him that a runny nose doth a sick child make and so each day, he'd say, "I have Scarlet Fever, I can't go to school." cough cough cough end of sentence. I stopped explaining absence of fever, three days of antibiotics to a six year old and just let him watch Spongebob.

Throw in a sore throat and general feelings of malaise for Tali and Scissors and the pox upon our household was complete. I swear I called HBO to let them know that I could fill in for Paul Giamatti as the infirm John Adams. They have not gotten back to me, but I'm certain that I could still pull it off and be a credit to the role.

And that, my friends brings me coughing back to this little blog. I've missed visiting, but will get back little by little. I mostly still feel weak and out of sorts, so it will take time. I'm going back to work tomorrow, or April Fools Day. There must be a message in that alone, but I'm feeling too lowly to delve into that one.

So Rabbit Rabbit and good luck in April. I'd settle for just luck - not bad certainly, but I don't even want to push it by asking for good. Just a little luck, that's all.

Happy April friends. It's been a while.



Above image via FFFOUND.com

Happy Saint Paddy's Day

An American lawyer asked, "Paddy, why is it that whenever you ask an Irishman a question, he answers with another question? "Who told you that?" asked Paddy.

Scissors often accuses me of answering a question with a question which is also a Jewish trait. This furthers my assertion that the Irish are one of the Lost Tribes of Israel.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day! May the luck of the Irish be with us all.

SATURDAY SPIN

I am putting this post together quickly as I have one little boy camper with a fever, so here's hoping he's feeling good as new tomorrow.

Today's singer is Keren Ann who is a French born Israeli singer or was it an Israeli born French singer? Well, she's based in both countries as well as New York. Read up on that in the Wiki link. As my old contractors were fond of saying, "this is small matter." What matters is that she sings beautiully and her songs have such a lovely soft quality that I think I would need an afternoon to lounge about with a gentle breeze blowing the curtains as her music played...(sound of dream sequence screeching to a halt). Well, you get the picture.

So now have a look:



and a listen: MySpace.

and a good weekend!

Enjoy.

Time for an Upgrade

I was leafing through Blueprint magazine* recently and came upon the Stylish Sleepwear article. Article, pictorial - whatever. A lovely little number caught my eye. The description labels it a chemise. Has it been so long since I've updated my boudoir wear that I don't even know that word? Oh sure, I hear the tusk, tusking of the wordsmiths now. The word is certainly not new, but it is to me in terms of sleepwear. The picture to the left is an image from Wikipedia which goes on to describe a chemise as follows: "In modern usage the term chemise generally refers to women's fashions that vaguely resemble the older shifts but are typically more delicate, and usually provocative." Does it come with the heaving bosom I wonder.

I convince myself that my sleepwear isn't so terrible. What's that? What color are my sweats? These? These are not sweats. They are a soft gray-ish pair of the finest cotton lounging pants.


*I see that reading this, one might get the idea that all I do is lounge about leafing through magazines, eating bonbons. I can assure you that I am not - eating bonbons, that is. But now a small sliver of honey cake never hurt a soul.

REALITY AVOIDANCE THERAPY

Do people want to read that you have nothing to say? Has it really come to this? Why yes, yes it has. I just needed a post to differentiate from my Saturday Spin which is supposed to be my lighthearted weekend background music.

I was looking at a home design mag - Elle Decor or some such fluff, and was reading an article about molding and how your home should dictate what type of molding to choose. Crown molding in a modern? Nooooooo. It said, "the molding should want to be there."

This got me to thinking of how I would determine that in Home Depot. Shall I ask the molding "would you like to come to my home?" It would probably reply "Well I guess I'm stuck now aren't I? This is sort of awkward - I'm next and you're purchasing; all my dreams of The Hamptons dashed. Go on, just take me. Get it over with."

I'll quickly whip out family photos and even show the other molding in the room which will be its company. "Of course, you'll be behind Louie's dog dishes so you can expect a fair amount of water being splashed on you. Well, a little bit anyway." I'd offer helpfully.

Then I wondered why I waste any time on thinking these things which naturally lead to thoughts of my aggravating day. I picked up Elle Decor again. It's part of my reality avoidance therapy which I ensure a bit of each day.

Of course, blogging is reality so it doesn't count.

SATURDAY SPIN

I'm feeling rather relaxed about these spins because I don't feel the need to stretch them into a post proper. I never intended them to be reviews, per se, just a spotlight on someone who has either caught my ear casually or that I'm loving so much, I'm burning out the cd. Yes, I still buy cd's. What can I say, I love liner notes.

This week is someone from the former category, with a little more investigation, she might make it into the latter. Her name is Nicole Atkins and she hails from my home state of New Jersey - nothing stinky* about her (you couldn't write that in a professional review I hasten to add). She will naturally call up some reference to Amy Winehouse as she has a little bit of a nostalgic sound going. I also hear Mama Cass in there.

See what you think : MY SPACE HERE. I think the girl can sing.

Performance of The Way It Is from her current album Neptune City, live on Letterman (Dave is loving her):



Have a great weekend. Enjoy whatever you have planned (especially if it's not planned).


* For any of my foreign correspondents, the stinky reference is to the purported smell that emanated from chemical plants dotting the upper NJ Turnpike. We always just blamed it on Staten Island.

The Bargain of the Century!

For me, anyway!

Where last we left off in this tale of intrigue, I was girding our strength to prepare for pickup of our auction winnings.

Due to some email snafus in which I did not hear from the seller at close of auction or into the next morning, I sent one last terse email basically saying, "I want my chair (even if you are a sex offender)!"

I then requested a communication through eBay which essentially provides the buyer/seller with each other's phone numbers. That got Robert hot under the collar and he called and caught Scissors coming through the door. Ring ring.:

Scissors: "Hello."
Robert, the seller: "May I speak to Ms. G!? This is Robert Soandso and I just sold her a Room & Board chair through eBay."
Scissors: "Well she's not here right now.."
Robert: "Well she sent me an email that I did not like the tone of...
Scissors: "Excuse me, my wife would not send a nasty email unless of course there was a reason...
Robert: (Insert Charlie Brown teacher voice here): "blah blah blah"
Scissors "I'll have her call you."

Scissors calls me at work, "There's some guy calling mentioning eBay, a chair..."

Poor Scissors always the last to know. In all the excitement I wanted to wait until I had a confirmation to tell him of the great deal! I tell him that I'll call Robert who in the meantime has had time to cool his jets. We get on fabulously or at least he still is letting me come pick up the chair which is all that I care about. With address secured, the next leg of our adventure begins...

Heading to points west (West Harlem) to be exact to claim my winnings from an eBay auction. I'm sitting on my chair right now typing. It is the Grace Chair from Room & Board pictured above, only in a sort of charcoal grey color. Love, love, love it! The price is $899.00 (+$65 shipping). My winning bid was $103.50 and we picked it up! Well there's the $9.00 round trip toll over the Triborough Bridge, so that's the delivery charge I guess. The owner described it as "like new" which is more than accurate. It shows no signs of any sort of wear and actually he said that it didn't get much use. I recognized the other chair keeping Grace company in his living room from eBay as well. I asked how he did with that auction and he smiled and said, "great, I got 10 for it."

I guess my expression showed I needed to be clubbed over the head with the details so he helpfully added "thousand." Somehow he made up for the loss on the Grace chair with the sale of the Finn Juhl. $10,000 smackers! He told me to have a seat and I cozied right in. It was divine, but for $10K I'd have to be able to drive it to work.

Of course getting our win down the three narrow flights of stairs was a little adventure with me offering little in the way of actual help but plenty in the way of guidance. And Robert, nice as he was, feigned some sort of wrist injury. All that brawn wasted. We tied her into the trunk like the Beverly Hillbillies that we are and waved goodbye!

For the record, I noticed nothing untoward about Robert, and then I realized what must have triggered the sex offender link!! Bill Clinton's offices are two blocks away!

G-Bay

As I mentioned, I come from a large family. In sorting through my Mom's things, I only half jokingly suggested that perhaps I should catalog things digitally and let people decide what they would like as a keepsake from her jewelry. My brother raised his eyebrows suspiciously, "gBay!" I swore that I would not make a profit, at least not a despicable amount, then grudgingly offered him a small commission.

On a separate note, I won an item on eBay tonight! I have never purchased a big ticket item from eBay (that I can recall). Although the amount was actually a bargain, it is a piece of furniture which makes it big ticket. I had in my favor that the auction was for pickup only in NYC. After winning, I just googled the zip code which I surmised to be on the westside of Manhattan. The search returns jolted me a bit and my heartbeat quickened as I read "Sex Offenders in Zip Code 1****!" The room was spinning out of focus as I read on "Hotels in Zip Code 1****" and immediately thereafter "Bars in 1****." Oh my gosh, I'm being lured in by a pervert!!! At a hotel!!! Who'll try to liquor me up! That's it, I'm reporting this creep to eBay.

I went back and looked at the chair and all my fears have been allayed. After all, a bargain's a bargain. Anyway, Scissors will be picking it up with me. Would it be odd for me to send the seller a question as to his height and weight? I just want to make sure Scissors and I can take him. Otherwise we may have to call in the big guns:

 

I'll let you know how it all works out. I hope.

Take Me Home

It's been almost four months since my Mom passed away. I went home to her house today with one of my sisters and one of my brothers to begin the process of sorting through my Mom's things. We got a lot done. We cried. We sorted. We cried. We laughed. We sorted. We ate. We cried. And so it went. It seems that my Mom literally saved every card that people gave her. Ten kids - that's a lot of cards. We toyed with the idea of taking them and making a little bonfire on the beach down in NJ where she spent countless summers shielding her children's skin from sunburn (not always so successfully). What do you want for a bunch of Irish kids?

The truth is I haven't cried much of late. It's not that I'm not acutely aware of the fact that my Mom is gone, it's just I haven't had anything really spark the tears. Until I got off the highway and headed up to the traffic light to turn towards her home and the following played from the radio:

"I hear her voice in the morning
How she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And driving down the road
I get a feeling that I should have been home
Yesterday Yesterday"

I cried like I haven't since the day my Mom died. One of the birthday cards I had given her said "If love looked in the mirror, it would see my mother's face."

And she'd be smiling.

SATURDAY SPIN

Rabbit rabbit and good luck in March! You can read a bit more about the folklore behind wishing people Rabbit Rabbit on the first of each month for good luck HERE. All I know is that the Pez folks do it and that's good enough for me.

The print is via Isabella's Art in ETSY.

On to the music - today I'm featuring a band who happens to have a sound reminiscent of a few other bands. I swore it was The Shins when I first heard the song featured in the video. They're called Band of Horses and they hail from South Carolina so I naturally have to give a shout out to my good friend Pia and wish her well in her travels to make a home there.

Here's the video for Is There a Ghost from their latest album, Cease to Begin, a title that I somehow relate to:



If you like what you see, go check out their MySpace for some more tunes and links.

Have a great weekend and good things to you in March.

I Think I Should Emcee the Oscars...

Was I alone in thinking that Jennifer Hudson's bra should have been one of the contenders in the Best Actor in a Supporting role category? I didn't think so. End of Oscar summary.

We celebrated our anniversary today with Chinese Food from our favorite restaurant (since we keep Kosher, the only Chinese restaurant in the area that we can eat meat from). This is Queens, NYC - can somebody please offer up a little competition? End of Kosher food rant.

But we were also celebrating something else - Julian read ten words from the board today! His reading skills are emerging and my heart just swells at the world opening for him. I spoke to his teacher earlier and then got off the phone and promptly called Scissors who was just as over the moon. Julian has learning difficulties with no diagnosis. Actually, he was diagnosed with global developmental delay as a tot, a little sensory integration thrown in with a smattering of auditory processing issues and there you have our perfect little puzzle - Julian. I sat with him last night reading something that was a little difficult for him, but he was scanning all over and picking out those sight words expertly. I felt tears forming as they're forming now.

It's amazing looking through the world of each of your children. Somehow Tali's world has always been a bit more straightforward as she has easily narrated the goings on from early on. Entrance to Julian's world sometimes requires a bit more of a roundabout journey, but I must say, always worth the diversions.

Julian's fortune from his cookie tonight was, "Some pursue happiness; you create it." End of kvelling over your children segment.

G'night.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US

Scissors and I are married 12 years today. In that simple sentence is packed a lot of living. We've made a home together that is filled with love and laughter (and a pinch of angst and tears for good measure). We dream of winning the lottery, but rarely play mostly because we don't want to embarrass ourselves and say something like "we still can't hardly believe it." Winners seem to say things like that.

I really liked last year's Anniversary post, it makes me smile so I'm just linking to it. Now don't be lazy (like me), go on over and read about my SLIDING THEORY.

The song that follows is a favorite love song and I send it out to Scissors - A Heart Needs A Home by Richard and Linda Thompson. I'm glad that our hearts found theirs.

SATURDAY SPIN

Ah, the halcyon days of Central Snark and my Saturday Spins. Yes, the wildly popular Saturday Spins where I would showcase a new artist each week and my NBFF, my kids and a friend of a friend would drop by to listen.

Well the friend of a friend wondered if I would continue spinning even though Central Snark is sort of on hiatus so I said sure in as noncommital a tone as I could muster politely. Actually, I do love checking out new music and mostly get the opportunity to do so on my commutes to work.

So as not to trifle with tradition, I shall continue my spins right here on Simply Said. After all, it's nice to have a little music to chill out with on the weekends.

Today, we have Rilo Kiley whose catchy tunes have been bouncing around in my head for a while. As you can read in the above Wiki link, two of the band members were former child stars of shows that I have no knowledge of which means I'm too old to remember or too above it to have watched (that's my too old bitter side talking).

If you like them, check out a little more over at rilokiley.com. This is the video for their song Silver Lining from their latest album, Under the Blacklight. Enjoy!



Have a great weekend and for old time's sake, drop over to Humor-blogs.com where old habits die hard.

A Few of My Favorite Things...

Laughter. Or laughing so hard with my kids - true belly laughs that tears are forming. It certainly beats the alternative of tears forming from being unable to get the creative juices flowing for a homework assignment. One silly thing lead to the next tonight (as is often the case) and to coax an assignment out of Tali, I pretend that I am a newspaper editor of the cigar chomping variety and Tali is a reporter who is not getting the assignment. Along comes Julian to totally save the day! He starts reporting on something as I scribble madly into my "notepad". I tell Tali that it is not unlike the movie, Being There where Chance becomes Chauncey and his predictions for his garden become an economic forecast. I never tire of this scene:



Not only does Julian get the job, but is ushered off to bed so that he can rest up for his next big assignment, without ever having to reveal his source. And as I said to Tali "get some rest kid, maybe that'll help you get the next big story."

Julian asks as I lead him in to bed, "What is this game?" to which I reply "We'll call it - reporter."

"I like that," he simply said.

Tali got the assignment done. We all laughed and I even got to post a little something. I'm a bit rusty and didn't know what to blog about, so nothing like the present.

End of story.

Won't somebody please save me...

from my boring template!!!

It's no secret, even to the casual observer, that I am completely maladroit at any sort of technical upgrades to my blog - short of simply adjusting the color background, that is. I go from blog to blog, admiring the beautiful window candy, witty pictures and then come back here and want to throw a brick through my blog's window.



Won't someone help me please? We could have a contest in which I could award a prize to the template designer (no professionals need apply/just saavy blogger friends). I'm thinking this THING might be just the giveaway. What? I'll have you know that is a work of art! Okay, okay - I'll rummage about a bit more.


Give it some thought. If you want to charge your friend, just do so at a deep discount. Of course, being the control freak that I am (in a nice knowing what I like sort of way), I'd have to have complete editorial imput (in a polite yet determined manner). I work well with others, especially in light of keeping up with my daily dosage of meds.

Please know that I am only half kidding and half desperate here. Any advice is appreciated, say even how to make a blog banner on my own. Should I learn Photoshop or would that be another exercise in futility? I know that I may just have to pony up some do re mi to get the look I want. Or I could just quit blogging and stop wasting my time.

There, happy?

Parenting Inspiration Can be found...

in seemingly odd places.

I wish that I knew which blog I had originally seen this image on to give the proper credit. If it comes to me, I shall. This is by an artist Carol Hummel who among other things, has taken to shodding trees in underpants. She explains it a bit more poetically, "Dirt Divers” are a series of work that personifies trees highlighting human intrusion on natural objects. Instead of protection and care, this intrusion has the human element burying its head in the sand in denial of its impact. It raises questions about where human intrusion is appropriate when inflicted on our environment."

This brings me full circle to Julian who is (dependent upon which side of the wet pants you are on) having many accidents or "intentionals" may more accurately describe what's going on. This occurs mostly at school, but also at home. I do believe he is trying to tell us precisely what the artist has stated above but as relates to him, "It raises questions about where adult intrusion is appropriate when inflicted on my environment."

Sometimes I think I'm the only one who understands my child. People say that they do, but then do the damndest things to convey it. Meanwhile, Julian has it all figured out and is testing people like mad. So far they're not passing with flying colors.

Julian is patiently waiting for us to catch up before he goes on to the next lesson.

Super Tuesday

Get out and vote!



Tali's assignment tonight was to write about whom she thought should be president. Her short essay is over at Muffinland.

Yes we can!

It's Good to be a New York fan tonight -

especially for us casual observers.

No matter your level of sports observance - in my case my knowledge of Michael Strahan of the NY Giants was limited to his divorce battle played out quite publicly in PageSix of the NY Post. This is not important. You can catch up quickly and by that I mean, during the "big game" if need be. Oh this being a sports fan is not for the faint of heart. I really do feel for those fans who watch their teams throughout the regular season because I am not there with you rooting through the good times and bad. No, I am there when it gets interesting. I mean, who would want to be a New England fan tonight - a perfect season ending like this? Oy, that's got to hurt.

I do enjoy sports in what could be considered a bandwagon jumping sort of way, but truly it is just that I reserve my rooting for the final moments of a season - Super Bowls, World Series, Stanley Cups and so forth. I've rooted NY teams through all of them: '77 Yankees - I was there (mostly to hear Phil Risuto kvell "look at Reggie!"; 86 Mets - through all seven games; 91 Giants squeeker over the Bills, front and center; 94 Rangers - didn't everyone watch? In some ways, being this type of fan is even tougher as you have no idea of the stats, you just want to see your hometown team win. To clear the air - I am a NY Mets fan if push comes to shove (as it often does on the 7 train to Shea).

Of course, my personal fave of the game was the Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers halftime show. I was a teenager when their seminal debut album hit the charts, so during the halftime show the kids and I rocked out. Scissors had taken his award winning chile over to his friend's where men could be men and watch sports undistracted.

Well, I'm sure except for that Victoria's Secret commercial.

So here's to you sports fans - the old and the new (or temporary). It's not whether you win or lose - well, actually from where I'm sitting it is.

Spring training must be just around the corner...

Why blog...

...when you can just go for blood tests?

Well, it seems my case of shingles is so mild that I actually don't have them. There's something wrong with how you earn a living when you'd rather have shingles than show up at work. Maybe not quite, but it's a coin toss.

The short story of the ongoing Health Caucus 08 is that my suspected case of shingles turned into not being shingles but then the doctor(s) were perplexed with some odd symptoms I was having (including numbness in my right arm), fevers, lethargy. I was ordered to the ER with a perscription and described as looking "fachada." My sister, Roni, has diagnosed it as Blogitis only to be cured by locking up my computer and throwing away the keyboard. That Roni.

Once in the ER, blood was drawn by an 80 pound resident. If I closed my eyes, I was certain that it was a 300 pound gorilla working the tubes. The ER said everything looked okay. Not so, says my internist the next morning. Come into my office this afternoon. It seems the results from the ER showed an extreme decline in my iron to the tune of about 30% drop in just one month. The doctor drew new blood and I had a day to again, imagine my children motherless, only to find out that the ER results were actually incorrect and I am fine. It's enough to raise your blood pressure and mine is holding steady at 100/60. As my mother would ask, "Are you sure you're breathing?"

Back to earning a living. Just in time to return to the office to a resignation; a splitting of accounts back into our offices in Manhattan and back with me into a newly formed department (so new, they don't even know what its purpose is yet) in Manhattan. I'm actually looking forward to being back in the city as it is definitely time for a change. Now if I could glean a few more details of the position, that might be good.

I wish I could be enthusiastic but I'm tired of earning a living and not really enjoying how it is I do that. But short of sitting home in our "playroom", making something artisitc (more specific than that, I can't be) and looking into our backyard, I don't think I'd be happy. Change of scenery of course takes care of that for a while.

Maybe in the meantime, my ship will come in. Boy do I sound wistful and pathetic or what? Maybe I should just make absolutely sure that I don't have shingles...

L'chaim

Drink to your health!

It all started with a bad case of indigestion that awakened me one night. I was having shooting pains and Scissors made me some secret special tea that his Mom picks from the wilds of Queens (don't laugh - the stuff is miraculous). I even considered for a brief moment a trip to the ER. I'll spare you all the details that lead me from TUMS to toilet, but suffice to say - I called my doctor and made an appointment for a checkup.

For the past month, I've had sonograms/various "oscopies" and to cover everything, a mole checking. No not the kind in the ground - on my body. I am now wrapping up Health Caucus 08 with tomorrow's mammogram/sonogram. At the end of the day, I blame the horrific heartburn on a bad batch of undercooked homemade french fries and the bad news is - I have shingles. Oy.

The good news (I am so very much hoping) is that it was caught early so I'm taking anti-viral meds to hopefully stave off the severity and length of the attack because as it stands - not feeling so good. Basically it appears as a welt of sorts on my scalp, actually several of them and they hurt. And I take Tylenol and so far it calms it down. What I've noticed over these couple of days now is that as the day progresses, it gets worse and I start to feel a bit fluish by nightfall with my head and neck really hurting and feeling numb at the same time.

I think this may account for some of my more than cranky feelings of late and I'd say that it's time to hunker down and take good care. Tali was already pitching in after school, getting Julian to hang up his coat and they were rearranging their shoes in the closet which lead to Julian "sleeping" on one of the shelves in the closet and pillows all over the floor. It's good to see they can rise to the occasion.

Alright then, I guess I'd better listen to my body and get to bed early. I feel badly as I'm not getting around to my circle of buddies as I'd like to, but you are all in my thoughts and I hope that life is treating you well.

PS: By the way, as I took out my web MD diploma and started checking around about shingles, I came across this helpful advice for the caregivers:

"Do something you enjoy; read a book, listen to your favorite music, watch TV, go for a walk, indulge in a bubble bath or participate in a hobby."

Will the caregiver have time to care for the person? In this case - me. I see where this is going - Scissors and Co. with the music blaring, doing hobbies in a bubble bath fresh from their long walks, whilst I sit ringing my bell for a cup of tea or sympathy.

Please check on me.

If it's Tuesday...

I've got nothing.

Well, I've got plenty of nothing. My computer is on the way to crashing - is that possible, or does it just crash all at once? I can't access anything signed in under my sign-in and so can't get at my pictures/files/basically the G Manifesto that's being developed as you sleep. The volume rises of its own volition like a scene from High Anxiety.

It all goes back to my glaring disregard for all things technology. Do I have anything backed up? Well on a To-Do list somewhere I am very sure.

I'm just a bit tired lately. I've done precious little writing, even less blogging and a lot of time feeling that I'm on a treadmill (which I can assure you I have not been - read previous post for exercise alternatives) going nowhere fast.

I'm not sure when the haze set in. I feel as if there are things that I need to get up on my roof with a megaphone and start shouting "Hey you - thinking it's all about you who has two kids! Yeah you! Wake up, as you've spent their entire life not caring for them! Yes you." I can assure you this is not self directed as (and not to give myself a pat on the parental back), but I have spent precious little time thinking of anything else but being a good parent since my kids came into this world. Not always to our own glowing reviews, but I know that Scissors and I give it our all. No, this is someone, I - know.

"Oh, hey you! Thinking that life is hopeless. I'm reading up on slavery as Tali studies in school. You want hopeless - imagine being in their place. Yeah you!"

"Oh here comes the one I've been waiting for - yeah you! You. The ones who send me emails enticing me to school functions with the promise of "250 of NYC's most influential moms." Influential, you say? Where do you stand on ProChoice? Where do you stand on Darfur? What stands of the candidates are you interested in? Oh, silly me - not that kind of influential! Riight."

I overheard the query of a Dad at a recent school function to another Mom in the class about the daughter's coat. "No, not that Peppie Le Precocious - My Sweet Little Skunk, the other French brand. Is that what you call influential? I thought so. I'm not influenced, I'm nauseated. Yeah you!"

Sooo, with all of this angst and nowhere to place it, oh wait a hot NYC influential parent moment (yes QUEENS is part of NYC) - I have a blog!

I'm a blogger!

And as Joe E. Brown replied in Some Like it Hot...oh wait, if it's Tuesday (never mind that will change in one hour) - there must be something new to show you (or in this case something that never gets old):

If it's Tuesday...

there must be something new to show you.

Never mind that it is almost Wednesday. Again.

But before I show you, I'm going to tell you. Tell you how vexed I am at emails to bloggers from all manner of marketing angles. This one from a "kids club" which is apparently an exercise club for kids. As excerpted from their charming email which just has me running to join them:

"I just wanted to follow up with you because I think I wasn't clear enough that I know you're not a NYC mommy or daddy blogger -- I was just hoping you could help me deliver this invitation to a good home. And since you're a blogger, I was hoping I could tap into your double-secret blogger cabal -- you simply must know some folks in New York City. Please have them visit ______________________for full details about these events, including RSVP information."

It goes on to say...

"If you may recall, this is an exclusive blogger day event at the premier kids club of New York City. Why should your NYC friends attend? Our talented instructors are on hand during these events to answer questions and guide your children in fun and interesting activities. There will be complimentary drinks and snacks as well as wireless internet access. We invite the whole family to come blog, bounce, surf, and enjoy the afternoon."

Because apparently nothing says exercise like wireless internet access. And I should schlep my kids from Queens (although part of NYC - not Manhattan) and come hang out and access wireless internet for my kids to get exercise? Well then, may I publicly and politely decline your invitation? Oh and in parting, the last I heard - Queens had not succeeded from NYC.

Now places my kids do go for exercise:

 

THE OVERPASS! Well we do walk there from our home which is exercise. Then, of course, there is the pulling motion of our arms to signal the engineer to blow his horn. On to other places where we get exercise...

 

The ice cream counter of a favorite old time parlor. Here we are celebrating Julian's first concert and apparently where they are laying down plans to overthrow the parental units, who are nearby with their noses in homemade whipped cream.

So thanks for visiting and remember, if it's Tuesday - there must be something new to show you!

The Ghost of Homework Past

...or why I suck as a parent sometimes.

I'm beginning to think that I'm turning myself into a freakin' martyr. Nothing would displease me more. Thankfully it is the end of the week so this feeling that I just have to rip off the layers of my existence until it is only me and nothing or no-one else around me isn't as acute as if it were a Monday night, say.

Well, look at that 9:45 am tomorrow - appointment with "Dr. Roberts." Perhaps I should just print this and hand it to him. Then he'll nod and pull out his prescription pad and in a scene reminiscent of the Ralphie teacher essay grading fantasy in Christmas Story, write up my new scrip.

And all of this had nothing to do with homework. I'm thinking I'd better get to bed because I have a certain daughter to awaken in the am to see if a night's sleep will have awoken her creative juices. I go from putting Julian to bed and of course nodding off doing so to plopping across the table from the daughter who is sullenly doing anything but her homework assignment (we won't talk about the spilled toothpicks or the two hours squandered when she got home). I'm sorry, sometimes I don't have it in me to inspire or offer beginnings or spoon feed how to approach an assignment.

Sometimes you just have to come up with it on your own, kid. Hey, maybe I don't suck at this parenting thing after all.

Don't I feel better now. Maybe ever so slightly. Good night.

If it's Tuesday...

there must be something new to show you.

Via one of my favorite home/design blogs, Apartment Therapy, I offer an alternative to crashing on relatives' couches or costly hotel stays whilst work (or in this case, fumigation) is being taken care of in your home. Pia, are you listening?

Comedian/filmmaker Mark Malkoff of the Colbert Report has moved into Ikea for a week and is documenting his stay here, fittingly titled, MARK LIVES IN IKEA.

Hope this has been helpful because if it's Tuesday, there must be something new to show you!

Never mind that it's almost Wednesday.

FOOTNOTE: You don't have to look like Stephen Colbert to work for him, but it helps!

UPDATE: Tali and I called Ikea this evening to speak to Mark. We first went to a national call center and asked to be transferred to the Paramus store which we were after assuring the call center we needed to speak to somebody in Office Furniture. We got to an operator and we asked for Mark. We were a little surprised when they put us right through...to Mark's assistant. Needing a reason to call Mark, I asked to speak to him and was told he wasn't able to come to the phone right now. "ohhh" I replied "we were interested in a sleep sofa of Ikea's and was wondering if he might test them out and let us know which he thinks is best."

"That's a great question" she chimed (read - mollified me. But she didn't know that I was mollifying her mollifying me). "Why don't you come on down and visit."

"Well I just might." I replied.

And I just may. But you know with things like work and school, it would be a real effort to go to Paramus, NJ. Let me call Mark. I wonder if he's sleeping yet...

Wild Thing!

This was originally sent to me via email from the Wildlife Conservation Society - New York Zoos and Aquarium. It's quite fun. You can make your own composite wildlife self. Here's what I would look like in wild form:


Well that doesn't really hold a candle to my punk days. The funny thing is - it kind of looks like me. Go on, make your own wild self HERE Click on the link "Build Your Wild Self."

After seeing my wild personae, Julian and I went back to make one for him. Building your wild self starts off quite mundanely with type of shorts, shirt, etc. Easy enough. Then you move onto animal legs, headdress and so on and so forth. That's where Julian began to rebel. I'd try to talk him into something exotic and he'd say "no, no - not that one" bringing it back to regular hair or shoes. Something about being an animal does not appeal to him.

Give it a try. You make everythang groovy!

A New Year Begins and I Recall Times Past...

Here's to hopes being fulfilled this year for you all.

I had a get together at my oldest brother's this past weekend and as always, it was wonderful to gather. But of course, underlying each gathering is a poignant sadness reserved at the head of the table for where my Mom should be. Just a few of us - two sisters, said brother and one sister-in-law took a walk down a back path to get some fresh air and as we walked along, I said "oh my...I thought that woman was Mommy for a second!" and my sister replied "so did I!" Only later in talking to my older sister who was walking ahead did she say the very same thing. I guess it's just wishful thinking on our parts.

I was looking through an old writing notebook of Tali's (all the way when she was a lowly third grader) and found this which is excerpted from her overall entry of "My Aunt Trish and Mommy's Mommy Came":

I went back upstairs to play with my dolls. I played and played, and played. I waited and waited, and waited. Finally my aunt came upstairs and my brother turned on "Let it be" so he could dance with Mommy's mommy. My mom joined in. Then I did, and then my aunt did.

Mommy's Mommy was the name that stuck since Tali was a wee one. That's who she'll always be to my kids. I remember above day so well. I remember Julian crying out for her to dance and her joining in. I remember Tali dressing Julian up as a girl and him getting into character and my Mom laughing so heartily. It was a good day.

Anyway, not really a New Years post, but you know I did want to have one up to start the year in the right fashion. I also would be remiss if I didn't mention how great it's been to get to know each of you and I so enjoy each blog that I visit for your unique perspectives.

Here's hoping that 2008 brings us each what we need, which you'll recall may not necessarily be what we want.



Forty years ago? Let's enjoy today. Happy New Year!

CHECKING IT TWICE

I hope you won't think any less of me (than you already do) after reading this. I offer it as a cautionary tale. Also, as a reminder that lists might be a helpful thing and something I endeavor to keep in the New Year. It's on my list here somewhere.

Our hapless office assistant Narnia (name changed to protect us all) is big on gift giving. I have never once been able to use with any enjoyment a gift that she's given and I am quite easy to please. I also believe the act of giving transcends the item...usually. It's just the items that she has chosen (or actually bought in mass quantity and told me about) are never something that are well, to my taste or are useful. For example:

- a polyester Christmas ornament scarf that I have absolutely no use for as I don't actually celebrate Christmas. Not that I have anything against Christmas, it's just I'm Jewish and even if I weren't, would still not have such an item in my wardrobe. Off to the donation pile.
- a scarf that has some gold thread through it that itches me like sandpaper. I won't give it away as I wouldn't want to subject this on even the neediest human.
- this year it was a tea light holder (sure, sounds promising) with the word "HOPE" emblazoned in big letters. My first thought was "I hope she'll stop giving me gifts."

"I gave one to my best friend too!" she proclaimed. Right to the garage sale pile.


With these evil thoughts dancing through my head, it was my just comeuppance that I totally blanked on buying Narnia a Christmas present. I bought for the teachers, various school related people - everyone on that list in my head, except Narnia. When did I discover this? As I showered before leaving for work yesterday morning. There must be something to the ole shower waking you up thing as I jumped into reality. What to do? Narnia doesn't go to Starbucks, so a gift card there was out. This was my only option as no other stores were open before my arrival, except the newsstand. Today's paper? "Look Narnia, what a great horoscope you have for today!" Magazines? A bag of Skittles? Come on - think woman, think!

The only viable option was to gift something of my own. Horror of horrors! I looked on the shelves in my room and saw a little silver bird that I always liked and then another little glass paperweight-ish item that I had a perfect gift bag for as it turned out. I held them up to Scissors, telling him of my predicament and asked his opinion on which I should give.

"Give her the bird" was his reply. After I stopped cracking up as funnier than his actual advice was the fact that Scissors didn't really grow up in the States and did not at first realize what he had just told me to do. I gave her what I sold as a paperweight and is currently resting comfortably on Narnia's desk where I can still have visitation rights.

I called my friend Jennifer to tell her of my predicament and had tears streaming down my face laughing as she asked between her own laughter "You gave her something from Montauk? Was it some crappy souevenir item with Welcome to Montauk on it?"

"Yeah sure", I continued "here Narnia, I bought this in the summer thinking it would be a perfect Christmas gift for you. Enjoy!"

I assured her that I scoured the item to make sure it made no mention of its souvenir origins. Once certain, I polished her up and wrapped it.

I believe a list may have saved me this predicament, but then again Narnia would have had to make the list. Maybe I'll start that list now, while it's fresh on my mind.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Twas the night before Christmas
and this family of four
had baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies
and were eyeing one more.

The Christmas Story marathon
played on the tv all night
and served as the backdrop for the
brother and sister to fight.

The brother finally collapsed
in a heap on the floor
when they heard the jingling
of bells outside of their door.

The Dad cracked the door
as the Mom felt fluish
and there sat Santa looking puzzled
"you know with Christmas story playing,
you don't sound Jewish."

The Dad pointed up to
the mezuzah on the door
and to the dreidl still spinning
from Chanukah on the floor.

They gave him a plate of sufganiyot
or jelly donuts to you
The mom wrapped a blanket tighter
did we mention she had the flu?

Then we heard Santa exclaim as
he drove out of sight
Never mind those cookies and milk
It's these donuts I like!

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!


Well this blogging for a year and a half has its benefits in the form of reprisal of old posts, or traditions as we like to say. This was from last Christmas Eve, but what the heck - it was fun!

So Merry Christmas to my friends and best of everything in the new year.

XOX

TRIPPING THE LIGHT FANTASTIC

 

I hopped on the subway with the kids and landed in Grand Central Terminal where we enjoyed their laser light show that is on around the Holidays through December 31st. They're an easy crowd - Julian just was happy to ride the trains and Tali wanted a hot chocolate from Starbucks. I wanted to buy a few gift items from an African craft booth in Grand Central's Holiday Fair. With only that, we killed four hours this afternoon.

Scissors stayed home with Louie who is recuperating from a delicate surgery. He was neutered. No more making time with the cute beagle or the cocker spaniel with the pink bows in her hair for him. He's recuperating quite nicely though.

Just a quick note to say hello, not much else. Just want to get my little blog here up and running for the last week of 2007.

Some items from the craft fair:

A Visit to the Nursing Home

"I can't bear the number of funerals you go to once you get older. I have to find a way to adjust to loss or sentence myself to a life of grieving. So I focus on the immediate, on my children." Jack Nicolson in an interview I read online earlier today.

I understand how my Mom felt attending the funerals of close friends and relatives. It's hard to watch your generation disappearing. It's harder becoming the older generation. After the last of my father's brothers passed away a couple of years ago, a cousin from that side said "Now the top shelf is gone, no more Johhnie Walker Black. We have to go to the middle shelf." Always the alcohol references on that side of the family, but pretty funny just the same.

I miss my Mom - she loved to hear stories about the kids and so many times I've thought "oh I have to tell Mommy that..." or "Mommy's going to laugh at that one..." and then a tear or two forms. It's sad, but necessary - all part of the grieving process. But then I smile. Smile at the memory and our conversations which often centered around the kids.

On Monday I received a call at the office that Julian had thrown up at school. I made a couple of calls and arranged to have him go to my mother-in-law's home until either I or Scissors got home. He stayed home from school yesterday even though he was quite fine. I took him to the nursing home to bring some things for Grandpa. The residents are getting to know Julian although they don't always remember him. He's taking to pretending he's one of the residents and using Grandpa's long shoe horn as a cane and walking the halls talking. I then found him outside one resident's door ushering the resident into his room with a sweeping motion saying "come in." We then went downstairs to the sitting room before we left whereby Julian pretends that he's talking to Louie our dog on the payphone. It's just Julian and myself and Grandpa and one other little lady resident who seems quite vexed that Julian is on the payphone as witnessed by the following exchange:

Resident (sitting stonefaced with a grimace frozen on face): "He's going to hurt himself with that cord."

Me (the uncaring Mom): "It's okay, he's playing pretend."

Resident expression tightens. Julian runs back over to Grandpa and I, then back to the phone.

Resident: "Holler at him! He should hang up that phone!"

Me (the slightly off kilter visitor): "I'm going to holler at you if you keep yelling at my child." Mutter under breath "old crank".

Resident makes a pffft noise at me. Notice that her grimace has turned to a slight smile.

We both feel better now that we've gotten that off our chests and Julian off the payphone as it turns out.

You see why I need to write a blog? Not because I have such great stories to tell but because if I'm not kept off the streets, I may be harassing little old ladies in nursing care facilities.

No good can come of that.

HAPPY CHANUKAH

Tonight marked the start of Chanukah, the Festival of Lights. It's a joyous, fun and fattening holiday celebrated with anything drenched in oil. Um ummmm. Latkes, soufganyot (jelly donuts), and pretty much more of the same.

So Happy Chanukah and enjoy!

I've done a couple of posts over at Central Snark which explore the proper spelling of Chanukah and a little rap about playing dreidl. Do stop by, it gets lonely and I end up eating all of the gelt myself.

RABBIT RABBIT/HAPPY BIRTHAY

Rabbit Rabbit and good luck in December.




Today is Tali's birthday. She turns 10. We also determined (in that same birthday aging conversation that we were having with Julian) that next year we'd have to go to the toes to count her age.

I was attempting a video upload but something isn't cooperating and I've got to cut my losses as I have to decorate, wrap, and go to bed. Instead I've put in the still photo of the video. Maybe later?

Each year I think that my heart would burst if it swelled with any more pride for my children. But each year it doesn't and each year my pride just continues to grow with good reason. Tali, have the happiest birthday and the most wonderful year. May you be happy a good percentage of the time, have grand school lunches, continue to play and practice your violin, and just enjoy. But I don't need to tell you that, for if anybody knew how to laugh and see the fun in life, it is you.

Happy Birthday to the girl who makes most adults look scatterbrained on a good day - our own Noopsie, Tali Rose.

Apparently Tali's video did upload, so let's see (she'd like to showcase a more polished piece, but I thought this was just grand anyway):





Note: The Birthday/Rabbit illustration is a print from the shop of Spiral Forest Studio in Etsy

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIAN!

Today is Julian's 6th Birthday! We were talking in the car on the way home from Tali's violin lesson this evening and considering that we'd now have to go to our second hand to count his age. Quite a milestone.

This video is from this past year some time. It just wouldn't be right for me to do a post about Julian and talk about the joy and love that he's brought into our family, without sharing a little of that light. Here is Julian doing what he loves to do (and our very first YouTube). Okay, so my camera hand needs a little work, not important (Ben when you judge this and you shall, be kind).



You may get some idea why Julian's Chinese Horoscope from his birth year read, "When you walk into a room, people smile." We haven't stopped smiling since.

Happy Birthday to our own natural treasure, the boy with a magnet in his heart. Happy Birthday ChooChoo!


PS: Mommy's Mommy, this one's for you; we know you'd appreciate it. XOX

Because it smelled like you

There was a necklace
Given for a birthday or a Mother’s Day or
Just any day

Given with love
Returned with the scent of the wearer
You never know just how much that will mean

You just never know.

Today I'm wearing a necklace that I had given my mother. When I took it out of the box that it was kept in, I smelled a familiar scent right away. It reminded me of my Mom. I put it around my neck and picked it up and smelled it and just held it in my hands softly remembering my Mom. She loved jewelry – I do too. Sometimes in a visit, I would notice a ring she was wearing and try it on. The next step in our little inside joke would be when she’d say, “borrow it – for a week,” with a smile on her face because weeks turned into months…

Life is that way, weeks turn into months and we forget that our house being clean or magazine-ready isn’t that important. But sitting with a loved one and sharing a laugh or a memory is.

Just feeling sentimental, that’s all.

A Time to Give Thanks

That would seem an odd thing to do two weeks after one's Mom's passing, but that is exactly what my entire family is doing today. I hope that I violate no privacies and I certainly won't mention names, but this has been a roller coaster of a week for a dear brother and our entire family.

My niece who gave us all practice in praying was in a very bad way this week. A very bad way - well she must have been and must be in great pain to think that the world would not miss her sweet face. I won't and just can't go into details but she is sitting up and in a regular hospital room and having Thanksgiving with her Mom and Dad by her bedside. We almost lost her this week after losing my Mom two weeks ago.

Thankfully we are instead back to mourning our Mom's death. Somehow that made a little more sense. Somehow there was comfort in that sadness. Somehow we could do the everyday things little by little, bit by bit and still be sad from time to time.

Life has taken on a strange patina in these past two weeks. But I'm thankful. Thankful for my family, thankful for love and thankful for loss. For without it, we'd forget how lucky we really are.

Oh yes - and I'm thankful for all of you that have stopped by or sent emails. Your words of love and support won't soon be forgotten. I am touched from the very bottom of my heart. Thank you.

And to my Mom - thanks. Thanks for showing me without ever telling me what makes a great parent.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. It's good to be back.

Long Journey Home

Time is the only healer and music a salve for the feelings of grief my family and I are feeling.

In Honor of my Mom: February 18, 1925 to November 8, 2007 - touched so many, loved by all.

Her strength, wisdom, beauty, sense of humor, capacity for love and forgiveness are unequaled. We'll miss her more than words could ever convey.

In the link below is the Robert Plant and Alison Kraus collaboration called Raising Sand. The whole cd is beautiful, YOUR LONG JOURNEY in particular seems to have been sent to us right about now. If you care to hear the song or any of the album, click "Listen to Album" after the jump.

AUDITION UPDATE: PLUM ROLES LANDED!

After Doobie's succesful audition which Dusty reported on at Asinine News, Hobbes offered her the role of Anastasia. The other animals also landed some nice parts with one of them landing Frederick.

The buzz here is palpable. Wardrobe is already being consulted.

Just a note to all who may think Doobie the fancy bear - she is more than the finery she donned for the audition. She does not walk around dressed in such clothing on a daily basis. Mostly she may be found in her NY Rangers sweatshirt. In fact, she was showing off her acting chops.

Hobbesywood here we come!

AUDITIONS!

Tali has broken her blog break over at Muffin-land to announce her wish to be considered for a part in the film version of Gone With The Captists, the long running saga at Stuffed Animal Tales.

She's quite excited about the prospect of landing a part.

Drop by to see her audition. I believe other parts are open if you're interested in auditioning.

Say Anything

Now I know why people post something, anything just to stay in the loop. Mainly because when you don't, it just gets more difficult to schedule time for writing, musing, posting.

That sucks. I've got to work on this.

When I have time, I'll fill you in on the joys of our doggie adoption. We love Louie! How fun is it to run down the block with your two kids trying to get Louie wound up and on the chase with calls of "C'mon Louie, let's run"? Both of them laughing all the while with Louie at first in hot pursuit, then easily taking the lead (with Mommy panting hanging onto the leash swearing at her shoe choice). I love watching his easy glide as his ears drift back in the wind.



And because we are, I won't quit you blog. We're going to get through this lack of posting thing. By just posting. Something. Anything.

RABBIT RABBIT!

Good luck in November. I don't always do a RabbitRabbit post, but it's Julian's birthday month so I thought this picture was perfect. We could all use a little luck, don't you think?

This is a photo of a hand painted linocut from the artist, Sonia Romero. Her work can be found in her Etsy shop, sheridesthelion or (She rides the Lion).


Enjoy!

A Touch of Lace

 

I love best friends.

Jennifer and I have known each other - our whole lives. Well, more accurately she and her family moved into the neighborhood when we were about five years old and have been making deals over charms collections ever since.

I love her because she is the most straightforward person I know. She is also a borderline hypochondriac in the most lovable way. She calls and says "I think I might be dying." I will answer "We all are Jennifer. Do I get first pick of your jewelry?" We talk all the time - every day or so. We don't get together as often as we'd like and that's our own fault.

There were six of us - three sets of sisters who grew up playing dolls, roller skating, talking about boys, riding our bikes to the library, etc. We grew older and went our separate ways. One to California, one to Texas, one to Florida, one to Pennsylvania and two in New York - Jennifer and me. We've all stayed in touch, some better than others (she said as she looked meekly around). Thankfully Jennifer lives in Brooklyn and I in Queens and we talk all the time from work.

She never reads my blog and could not be bothered. Not because she doesn't like how I write, on the contrary. She thinks with my family's colorful history, I certainly have a good story to tell. I never tell that one. It's a long one and well where to begin? At the beginning...

The girl child was born on a hot July day. Before there was routine use of air conditioning, before people thought to seek relief in any other way but on the stoop or in front of a fan, with a little cornstarch powder on your neck. Now that was luxury. She was the seventh child born to this family and that in and of itself should have been a good sign. Her mother is fond of telling her that her hair was a strawberry blonde that people would often remark upon. That and the space between her front teeth. Mr. Burns would look at that space and say with certainty that she would be a singer. Mr. Burns is probably rolling over in his grave.

We moved to the small town where I grew up in 1963. The dates are fuzzy in my mind, but Jennifer moved there shortly thereafter. That's a long time to have such a wonderful friend.

Life's pretty good, I guess.

PS: Hey Jenn, they really like chocolate too. Just saying.

Whatever Happened to Baby G?

I saw her somewhere. She can be found spinning tunes in Central Snark on the weekend. Well not live, but that's one post. One of the co-administrators of the blog, who is her NBFF, has some really tough things happening lately and she's not posting. So all of the co-administrators of whom she counts herself one, are rising to the occasion and trying to do posts there. She's trying to whip up a post for TheSnark right now I think. Did I mention she's also serving as editor for Humor-blogs.com for the blog reviews?

It's just when Dieselpresented Humor-blogs.com reviews as something fun and easy and did he mention fun? Well she couldn't refuse. She likes writing and wanted to give it a crack. She actually does like doing the reviews.

I know she longs for those halcyon days of writing a post, rereading it, rereading it again. Thinking it to be exactly what she wanted to say at that moment in time and publishing. Then rereading and correcting a typo and rereading and well you get the picture.

The truth is it's been pretty hectic of late for her. But mostly it's all good and it's life and did we mention she might be a tad distractable by nature? She'll get her act together I'm sure and figure out the balance of it all. When she does, oh she'll be back with a vengeance.


What's that? Oh no, she's fine. She's just resting here, that's all.

Now scram.

Signed,
Baby Jane Hudson

MEET LOUIE,

the new King of Queens.


Louie became part of our family today. We don't know how we've lived without him. Okay, gotta go walk him.

Have a wonderful weekend.


PSSST: Drop by Central Snark over the weekend where you can find me spinning tunes.

UPDATE: Two weekends ago, my brother-in-law called and asked "so do you want a puppy?" He then went on to recount Louie's tale of wanderlust (or escape from a chain gang, we're not sure). My brother-in-law and SIL found him near their home where they spend weekends. They are animal lovers and of course, took chase and rescued him. Signs were hung all over the area, vets, humane society, police all contacted. They brought him to a vet to see if he had a chip imbedded with his information - nothing. They've had him for a month and would have kept him, but they are a one dog household and Hershey already rules theirs.

My reaction was of course we wanted a dog. It was Scissors that needed working on. He basically refused and I called the next day and told my BIL that we would be taking the pup. I'll spare you the details leading up to Louie's arrival except to say that Scissors really warmed to the idea. He want from complete disagreement to agitated resignation. Real progress. They brought him to our house yesterday and when Scissors walked in and Louie went and jumped up and put his little paws on his lap, it was like the scene from The Grinch That Stole Christmas - his heart grew three sizes larger that day.

Guess whose side of the bed Louie slept on last night?

How I Got My Thing Back

Where last we left off in this tale, our relaxed heroine (me) had returned from a seaside vacation with her family to be greeted by next door neighbor who has construction underway in his home.

And action!:

Yuri: Okay, so here's vut's happening vile you were gone. Zhere vere a bunch of robberies in ze neighborhood.
Me (alarmed):Oh no! What would you call a bunch?
Yuri: Zhree - zat's not important

I begged to differ but didn't at that point.

Yuri: Vut happened is zees - ze guy came and took a package from your porch and zey found it at one of the homes in the bushes. Maybe he try to use it to pretend like he's a delivery man to go up to ze houses.
Me: Gasp in horror: That was my Thing!
Yuri: Oh zat's good, I zought it was my computer, heh heh. Anyway, I talk to ze detective and he told me ze story. So you're gonna call the precinct and ask about it.
Me: I guess zat's, I mean that's what I'm going to do.

Me: Phoning Local Precinct: Hello, my name is G Lampshade. Apparently a package containing my Thing was stolen from my porch and used as a ruse to gain entrance to some homes in a string of burglaries that occurred in my neighborhood.
Desk Officer: Mam, you'll have to come down to the Precinct as how would we know that it's your Thing that you're calling about without identification?
Me: Fine, I'll be there tomorrow.

Scene 2: The heroine has decided to walk to the Precinct to inquire about her Thing. Her daughter is along for the trip as they will be going farther on to finish a book report in a local library as Yuri's construction has hit a fevered pitch. As they walk, the heroine bravely tries to assure child that she has nothing to fear going into a precinct possibly mixing it up with some perps as Mommy is here. Child replies "I think you're the one who's nervous, Mommy." Heroine mutters, "Me? Nah." she reassures daughter by clutching her hand even tighter.

They arrive at the precinct with the daughter soaking up the whole dingy atmosphere. They approach the desk officer:

Me: Hello, my name is G Lampshade. I called last night about my missing Thing that was stolen from my front porch.
Desk sergeant (in slight Russian accent): Vel, vy don't you call the post office?
Me: Because they didn't take it into evidence - the NYPD did.
Not one to be put off (after all I've watched every Law and Order series) ask, "Isn't there a detective handling this?"

The desk officer calls upstairs and immediately speaks to the detective in question. He gives my name and the detective came downstairs with full knowledge of the case. My Thing was indeed taken into custody and was being dusted for prints. The detective calls over another detective to ask where it is in the process.

Both of them then asked: "Was it of value?"
Me: "Well, uh, maybe not just yet. But perhaps in the future."
Detective 1: What did it contain?
Me: Well I'm not exactly sure. It's a thi, a work of art.

The detective took my name and number and assured me that he would get it back to me as soon as possible and I agreed to calling my Art Source to see if I could obtain another.

We leave the precinct only hearing one curse word (and that was out of an officer's mouth), seeing no perps and with a crush on the detective.

On to the library we went where after a series of unfortunate events (including but not limited to wacko parents and overzealous beginning readers) which prevented daughter from completing book report, we arrived home. Scissors is in the driveway and mentions, "the detective dropped by and left your package. It's inside."

I run inside excitedly to open THE THING! At first, I was mad that the detectives gave it back. Bear in mind that The Thing was conceived not really as art but as "a quarterly periodical in the form of an object." I forgot that last part and had in mind art when I opened my Thing:


Okay, okay so it's not as if I have to hang it on a window which is sort of annoying because maybe I would have if we had a standard size window in the house in need of a shade. Then the thought occurred (well actually not my original thought but that of the creators) that it could be hung anywhere.

We have a spot picked out in the downstairs hallway but I realize it could possibly send a negative message to Scissors' clients that his work is in need of forgiveness.

Anyway, that will only be on sunny days.

IMPARTING SPIRITUALITY OR WHY IT'S GOOD TO BE A KID ON YOM KIPPUR

It was Yom Kippur. A high stakes gambling ring had gathered in the back room of the synagogue. The game started off friendly enough but as each player was eliminated, the tension in the air grew. A guard stood firmly at the door.

The final two players were at the table. At this point, they had each taken a standing position surveying the game before them, their posture slightly stooped and leaning over the table. Spectators gathered round, elbowing their way in to get a front row view. The one player seemed intent on avenging her twin's earlier ouster; the other coolly studying the board as she tapped her pile of bills. With one more roll of the dice, victory was declared. As the winner gathered her earnings about her and picked up Park Place from the floor, a familiar voice cut through the excitement.

"Let's go Tali - services are over."

Any resemblance to a real life scenario is purely coincidental.

Hellloooooo?

Anybody home?

I'm sure I'll be back to some reasonably normal posting schedule by the secular New Year. Really, any day now. Well, there's Yom Kippur coming up.

How about after I break the fast?

You all have every right to delete me from your blogroll, but here's hoping you won't. We'll talk soon - okay?

L'Shanah Tovah!

and to all: