Summer Reading

This summer, I am reading Alexander McCall Smith's The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series. Set in Botswana, Africa, the books' central heroine is Mma. Precious Ramotswe, proprietor of the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, and they (excerpted from the author's website) "follow her adventures as she navigates the cases of her clients and the complexities of her personal life with charm, wisdom, and a healthy dose of humor."

I picked up the first book on a whim at the drugstore to read on the plane when we flew to Russia in May. It was an easy read, nothing spectacular, but charming enough to get me to the library to search for book 2. Book 2 is where the series really caught its stride and sucked me in as a fan. When Mma. Ramotswe's fiance, Mr. JLB Matekoni (as he is always referred to) brings home two foster children from the orphan farm, without first consulting his fiance, her reaction upon this discovery (made while passing him in town) made me love her all the more!

I just picked up books 4 and 5 at the library yesterday. I think there are 8 total. The books are light, entertaining, funny, suspenseful, cultural and completely charming. Perfect for summer reading. And, I love that when I finish one, there's another one waiting on the shelf at the library, and I don't have to say good-bye to these characters! I hope I can stretch it out a little and not plow through to book 8 too quickly.

I hear that there is an HBO series, just started in March, based on the books. I haven't heard if it's any good or not -- more often than not, I am disappointed at tv/movie adaptations of my favorite books -- but I will probably give it a chance, if for no other reason than to revisit these characters that I'm going to miss. I heard that it is actually filmed in Botswana, so I'm sure the background visuals will be beautiful. I am not going to watch it until after I've finished the books, though.

P.S. Just looked closer at the website: though my library only had up to book 8 on the shelf, there are 10 books in the series (the last is hardcover) which means the series continues. Yeah!

Mad Math Skillz

Excerpt from a recent conversation with my 5 year-old:

Ben: Mom...(dramatic pause), I need you to give me 2 twenties.

Me: Oh?

Ben: Or, 4 tens.

Me: Wha...??

Ben: Yes. I need to join the Lego dot com club and it costs 40 dollars.

Clever tactic, no?! Plying and distracting me with his mad math skillz, hoping I will be too impressed to put two and two together and notice I am being hit up for money. You've got to hand it to him, the boy is clever.

Also, he is really good at math.

We Love You, Aunt Kate

My great-aunt, Aunt Kate (my Grandma Annie's younger sister) died yesterday. "Great Aunt" sounds like a distant, older relative that one sees once in a while at family reunions, but Aunt Kate was so much more than that. Through the years, she has been sort of a surrogate grandma, especially these last 7 years that she has lived just a stone's throw away from me. She was a true family matriarch, a glue that held much of our extended family together, and so very, very dear to all of us really.

She went into the hospital a little over a week ago after she developed a septic infection in her dialysis port. It appears that she had multiple strokes while in the hospital as well and never was able to recover. On Saturday, she was lucid enough to express her wishes to stop interventions and go home. She died peacefully on Monday evening, after spending two days in her own comfortable bed, surrounded by and doted on by a houseful of her family, who adored her. The saddest, most heartbreaking thing was seeing Uncle Demonte, her husband of over 50 years, lean over and kiss her while Emily (her granddaughter and my second cousin) played "Lover's Waltz" on the violin at her bedside. In her feeble, semi-comatose state, she opened her eyes and kissed him back. That was Sunday, the day before she died.

Monday afternoon, Kristen and Katya and I were taking a turn at her bedside with Denise (her daughter) and Adrie (her daughter-in-law) when Denise just broke down and sobbed. Katya asked me, "Why is she crying so much? Did Aunt Kate just die?" "No," I said, "not yet. But it's very sad and very hard, especially for Denise, to see her like this because Aunt Kate is her mother." Katya just looked at me incredulously, and then looked at Denise and said, "That's your mother?! How come you never told me that?" It interjected just the right amount of levity as Denise laughed and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I forgot to tell you that all this time...I just assumed you knew!"

The houses here are brimming with extended family gathering for the funeral this weekend. My mom and my brother and sister from New York with their families are arriving on Friday. We are working on getting my Grandma up here. (We'll see -- she's a tough one who has always in the past stubbornly refused to travel anywhere, and you'd have to kill her to get her on an airplane.)

Lori and I have both been cooking like mad, dropping off food at the house every chance we get. I guess that is our way of coping and contributing. Which, is kind of ironic, because nobody loved a good meal more than Aunt Kate. In fact, most of our tried and true family recipes originated with her: Genuine Italian (aka "All Day") Lasagna, 5-can casserole, strawberry pie, Aunt Kate's brownies, etc... A good home-cooked meal was definitely one of her love languages and she passed that trait on to us.

My sister, Francie posted some funny Aunt Kate memories today that made me smile. She was a vital life force and will be remembered fondly. The world is definitely a sadder place without her in it.

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On a lighter note, my sister Lori babysat Ben for a few hours this afternoon. (The older three kids went to Shedd Aquarium with their Auntie Michelle and Uncle Graeme, Derrick had an appointment and I had to work.) Ben and Tony had a great time playing together. When I stopped to pick up Ben after work, I was holding Tony while talking to my sister for a few minutes. When I tried to put Tony down to go, he clung to me for dear life. It was the funniest thing: I'd try to put him down and he would curl up his legs and refuse to stand on them, then while I was still holding onto his upper body, his legs dangling, he'd try to walk back up my legs into my arms. I said, "Tony, you want to come home with Auntie?" And he told his mom, "Bye!" I'm such a sucker. I took him home with me and Ben and kept him for a few hours. He was so pleased with himself for manipulating his Auntie.

Lori was pleased too. Our cousin Nick (who just so happens to be a sous chef at a fancy country club in Tennessee) came over and was cooking dinner at her house and they got to have a nice relaxing dinner while I watched Tony. He was a perfect angel though. And, I paid her back by feeding him a cookie for dinner and teaching him a new word: "nasty." (I'm not that bad of an auntie -- he ate some banana and cheese too, but he fed the beans I tried to sneak on his plate and hide under some ketchup to the dog.) I tried and tried to get him to say "Auntie Rachael" to no avail. But then I was cleaning off the dining room table and Derrick had put the cat's dish on there. "I wish you wouldn't do that," I said to Derrick, "there's dried cat food on the table. That's gross. Nasty!" And then to my little assistant, "Huh, Tony?!" And he said, "nasty!" Only it sounded kind of like "Nah!...ee". It was too cute! Sorry, Lor.

It's the Little Things

In the middle of the night, I was called to go to the hospital for a delivery. I was rummaging around in the kitchen at 3:30 a.m. in semi-darkness looking for my badge and my car keys, when out of the corner of my eye, a little shadow appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Ben?"

"Mom?" he started in a sweet little sleepy-laced voice.

"Sweetheart, go back to bed. It's still night time. Mommy has to go to the hospital for a little bit, but everyone else is still sleeping," I whispered.

"Mom? My back itches," he said, still sleepy-sweet as ever.

"Well, come down and let me see real quick," I said.

He came downstairs, we went in the bathroom and turned on the light and I noticed his little neck was sunburned in the strip just about the shirt collar. I put on some lotion, he said it felt better, and I sent him back upstairs to go back to bed.

"Mom?" he turned and called back to me from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Ben?"

"Mom...if you are having a dream and in your dream there is a button that says 'don't push this or you will go to jail' (dramatic pause)...if you push it? Will you really go to jail? I mean, when you wake up? Or, no, because it's just a dream?"

"No. It's just a dream," I answered, "Now go back to sleep now, sweetheart."

"Okay, night, Mom."

Probably being tired just makes me sappy, but at that moment? My heart couldn't have swelled with more love for that little boy.

How Do I Get Myself into These Messes

So last weekend, at the graduation open house we attended, the kids were back and forth between the pool and the hot tub. They were having a great time playing with their cousins as well as making new friends. Not dressed to swim myself, I was keeping on eye on them from the deck. Apparently during this time, a girl I know from work -- a scrub tech from the hospital and the one who gave us Kristen's bunny two summers ago -- had a conversation with Jack about the County youth fair this summer, in which Jack decided that he would LOVE to show one of her bunnies as an exhibitor.

I don't know, I hedged. We just don't have time for 4-H right now, it seems like a lot of work, blah, blah, blah...

She convinced me it would be easy. She has 26 rabbits right now, too many for her own kids to show all of them, so she's always looking for another kid interested in showing a bunny. She promised to spend a little time with Jack teaching him the things he'd need to do to handle the bunny in front of the judges, no 4-H meetings necessary. Entry is free, plus youth exhibitors get free admission to the fair all week. Bunnies show on Tuesday. I figured it wouldn't be that big of a deal to rearrange my schedule and take Tuesday of fair week off.

Next thing you know, I've agreed to let all four of my kids each show a bunny from a 2 month old litter of Mini Lops. All I have to do is make sure I turn in the exhibitor applications by the July 1 deadline...she'd even bring me the forms and give them to me on my next OR day. Great. The kids are thrilled.

So today, I'm in the OR, getting ready to start my cases, when this friend (not assigned to my room that day) drops by to say, "I have your forms, when do you want to get your bunnies?"

Wait a minute...

What?! I thought we were just showing them that one day. Maybe getting together once or twice beforehand to practice.

Come to find out, K~ assumed we were going to keep the bunnies all summer then show them at Fair.

And then what?

Oh, well, she needs to clean house, she has too many bunnies and after Fair, she's taking a bunch to the meat market, and if I don't want to keep these I can just give them back and she'll take them too.

"But they're pets! Mini Lops! People eat those?" I'm incredulous.

Apparently they do. Probably they don't know it, either. Rabbit meat is rabbit meat.

"OK," I say, "I'm sorry, I apparently misunderstood. I didn't know we'd be keeping the bunnies at our house and I'm not letting my kids get attached all summer to bunnies that are going to the meat market."

"Just don't tell them," she says.

"But you've already told ME!" (And I am horrified!)

I can't do it. I can't lie to my kids about that. I couldn't stand the guilt.

You know how this would end, right? We'd keep the bunnies. I do NOT want 4 more bunnies.

My kids (Katya, Jack and Ben) have been BEGGING me for a pet of their very own. Our two dogs are family dogs and Kristen has a cat and a bunny that she cares for herself and can claim as "hers". We just do not want any more pets. It is too much work as is. So, in a way, this would be perfect. The kids could have a pet of their own to play with all summer, they'd get the experience of showing them at the Fair, and then they'd magically go away to happy bunny land.

Still, I can't do it. I told her I would think about it and I took the forms home, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to say no. The kids are going to be really disappointed, since I'd already agreed to let them show the bunnies. And, I can't even tell them why I'm changing my mind!

K~ was incredulous at my reaction. She really just could not wrap her mind around it. I got the feeling that some of the other onlookers to our conversation felt the same way. Maybe not incredulous, but they were humored by the situation.

So, I guess this is the part where I reveal myself to be a bleeding heart, city girl who could never have hacked life on the farm. Or if my lot in life had landed me on a farm, I think they would call me Fern.

Little Sister

When I went home for lunch today, I noticed Katya had dressed herself in a pair of dark brown long pants and a ready-for-retirement stained t-shirt. Her hair was unbrushed, her feet were bare. She has an appointment this afternoon for her bangs to be trimmed that her dad is taking her to. Good thing I went home for lunch.

"Katya, go upstairs and change into some shorts and a clean shirt. You look like a ragamuffin," I said.

She offered up huffs and puffs, rolled eyes and a few excuses. "Katya, seriously. You're getting your bangs trimmed this afternoon and you can't go in public like that. Come on upstairs, I'll help you find something." She trailed me upstairs and I offered her a pair of denim shorts from her drawers.

"This?!" she protested. "Can't I wear long pants?"

"Katya, it's 90 degrees out. Wear the shorts."

"But I don't like people to see my legs," she answered.

"Why?! And since when?" (She has the most darling, perfect legs any child could ever hope for: long, skinny, with wiry muscular definition.)

"Because they're hairy," she answered.

The hair on her legs is blond, fine, and barely noticeable. And, she is nine.

After I explained to her that she has the most darling, perfect legs any girl could ever hope for and with barely perceptible hair and that nine year old legs are supposed to have hair on them, she begrudgingly put on the shorts and changed her shirt. We then went into the bathroom so I could help her brush the snarls from her hair. She complained about that too, as well as protested having to get her bangs cut. I thought she was just being testy, but then she said, "I've been trying to grow my bangs and my hair forever, so my hair can be long like Kristen's!"

That was when I realized that she just wants to be like her sister -- her 12 year-old sister who just started shaving her legs this summer. And realizing this, I wasn't annoyed with her for being testy any longer. I mean, don't get me wrong -- she still had to wear the clean shorts, she is NOT shaving her scrawny 9 year-old legs and she's still getting the trim. But, I think it's kind of sweet that she wants to be like her big sister.

Also, I am quaking in my mommy boots about these two being teenagers together. Oh man, somebody please stop the clock or hit pause.

Now THIS is Summer

Finally, finally, it is actually starting to seem like summer around here! We've just enjoyed a gorgeous weekend. Perhaps a little humid for my taste -- but hey, beggars can't be choosers. (And, we've certainly been begging for a reprieve from this June gloom.) How nice to finally see some sunshine!

We spent the afternoon at the beach and it was such a nice relaxing way to spend the day. We were sort of pokey getting going today, but it worked out perfectly because we caught the tail end of the blazing heat and enjoyed a nice little late afternoon breeze off the lake. We bought new beach toys at the drugstore (our little rag-tag collection from over the years was getting kind of sparse) and the kids paired up by twos and got busy with those, leaving Derrick and I to relax with our books on a blanket. They must have been on their best behavior for Father's Day. (Glad I got to reap the benefits too. :))

I packed my camera, but a la the New York City trip, I forgot the memory chip back in the laptop. (Yeah, I am getting really good at perfecting the little I-can't-believe-I-did-that-again hissy fit.) I snapped a couple pics on my Blackberry, and that was the best I could do.

I was pretty impressed with the girls' sand crocodile. Pretty cool, huh?

Yesterday, the kids' spent about 4 hours in my cousin's pool. Oh, how I was wishing I had brought my suit (since we were there for the graduation party, I didn't figure I'd want to swim) -- Saturday was the height of mugginess, having just come off Friday's thunderstorms. So, I didn't have my suit, but I did manage to bring both my camera and the memory chip that day, so at least I walked away with a few great pictures (including a few of my niece and nephew.)

Notice that no one is tan in the pictures. And, not because of my conscientious sunscreen use, but because truly there just hadn't been much sun to be had until now. Usually by now, the kids are brown as little berries, sunscreen and all, from playing outside all day long. They are still playing outside quite a bit -- just in the rain instead of the sprinklers!

P.S. Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. My kids picked out the cutest funny-but-true card for Derrick. It reads: "Being a Father is like being on a wild roller coaster ride...when you get off, you realize all your money flew out of your pockets." Inside, they each wrote him the sweetest notes, wholey unpromted by me, along with a bunch of x's and o's in four different scribbly penmanships. And, you just know a guy is a great dad when his preteen daughter writes, "You are fun, funny, cool, and great to be with!" For his present, Kristen and I wanted to get him a kayak -- the two of them have been talking about doing that together for awhile now. So, Kristen and I went to the sporting goods store to shop, and realized pretty quickly that we had a problem. How do you get it home? We decided to let him figure that one out. For his present, we gave him my blessing to buy it himself!

Two Summer Salads

This June Michigan weather has just been crazy. We've had rain, and gray skies and thunderstorms -- school has been out for two weeks, but it just hasn't felt like summer. And now, all of a sudden today it is unbearably hot and humid. But, hey, at least the skies are blue, the sun is out, and it certainly feels like summer today.

We are attending the high school graduation open house of a co-worker's daughter this evening. There is a pool involved, so the kids are very much looking forward to it. I volunteered to bring a salad for the buffet and I just finished making a Greek pasta salad that has been a hit in our family for years. It is my sister, Lori's recipe that she first made for us when we visited her in Washington State, back in the day when she called the Seattle suburbs home. Since it is too humid to be outside right now (for me -- not the kids -- they are out soaking up the sunshine) I thought I'd share it here.

Greek Pasta Salad

4 cups cooked orzo pasta
2 cups thinly sliced cucumber
3/4 cup chopped tomatoes
1/2 cup chopped green pepper
1/2 cup chopped red onion
1/4 cup finely chopped parsley
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/4 tsp salt
1 - 16 oz. can garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
1 - 4 oz. can sliced olives, drained
1/2 cup crumbled feta

Mix together and add cheese on top.

The kids wanted this for lunch today when they saw me making it, but I didn't have enough ingredients to make it for lunch and the party. So, I made a different salad for them; one that was shared by a blog friend last month and that we have enjoyed several times already this summer. My kids love it -- I don't think they have figured out yet that it contains spinach, green onions and parsley. (Heh, heh.)

This is a modification of the original recipe in that I use more greens and substitute Morningstar Chik N Nuggets for the chicken, to make it vegetarian. (The crispy breading on the "chicken" nuggets adds a nice crunch to the salad.) I have served this modified version at picnics and my carnivorous friends scarfed it down, but if meat substitutes scare you, you can find Elle J's original recipe HERE.

Chicken Noodle Green Salad

One pkg. Morningstar Farms Chik N Nuggets (in the freezer section of the grocery store): baked according to package directions, cooled and cut in strips

8 oz. egg noodles, cooked, drained and rinsed with cool water

1/2 head of lettuce, chopped
1/2 bag of baby spinach, chopped
handful of chopped fresh parsley
1 bunch green onion, sliced thinly

For dressing:
1/2 cup olive or saffron oil
1/4 cup lemon juice (adds an extra punch of flavor if you squeeze it fresh)
1 1/2 tsp garlic salt
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp dry mustard powder
1 tsp crumbed rosemary leaves
1/2 tsp pepper

Whisk together dressing and mix dressing, greens, chicken strips and noodles in a serving bowl. You can serve immediately or to make ahead, save out the greens, refrigerate and add greens just before serving.

The kids are in the backyard, picnicking in the shade on the trampoline, with their salad, their Webkinz, and a bunch of other stuff they probably shouldn't have outside from their bedrooms. They've been out there for awhile and I don't know how long it's going to last (the peace and quiet inside the house, I mean), but this right here is probably the best argument I can offer for having multiple kids:

Greenhouse Steals, Summer Jobs and One Unpaid Internship

One afternoon last week, Katya and I visited the little greenhouse behind the mom and pop farm stand around the corner from me. I bought about 3 flats worth of annuals and a couple of hanging baskets for a fraction of what I would have spent at the nursery I usually visit. There was a tiny little gray and white fuzzy kitten that Katya found huddled underneath some junk in the corner of the greenhouse. The lady there told us someone had dumped it off (along with others) and she was feeding it now, but that if we could catch it, we were welcome to it, for the bargain price of free. Katya's eyes lit up with a mixture of hope, mischief and determination, and she chased that little spitfire kitten all over the greenhouse until she finally nabbed it. It was WILD -- hissing and spitting like a hellcat -- but Katya held it by the scruff and looked at me pleadingly, "Mom, this cat is wild like me! Please can I have it?" So...we did not take the kitten home, as much as I was tempted.

I planted the flowers in pots for the front and back porches. Jack offered to water them for me and he did such a good job that I offered him the task as a regular summer job: $5/week for every week he successfully keeps them alive. (A bargain considering my personal track record of killing plants by midsummer.)

Ben piped in, "Mom, what can be my summer job?" At 5, he has never had a paying job before.

"Well, think of something you might like to do this summer and let me know and I'll tell you if I have any openings," I said.

He thought about it, went inside, and then a few minutes later came back out with this offer, "Can I play with Legos for my summer job?"

"That sounds like a pretty great job," I laughed.

Pleased with himself, he went back inside. Only to reappear a few minutes later, "Mom. How much can I get paid for playing with Legos?"

Hahahahaha. Son, playing with Legos is an unpaid internship! (We later decided that he would bring in the mail and help Daddy mow the lawn for his summer job.)

P.S. This upside down hanging tomato plant was one of my greenhouse purchases. I was so excited when I saw it and exclaimed, "Oh look, Katya! Upside down tomato plants -- let's get one!" The Mrs. of the mom and pop operation laughed, "You know, my husband has been planting them that way for 30 years. Now they're all the rage. Go figure." I guess they are, cause I have zero reason to need to buy a tomato plant (what with my brother-in-law being a vegetable farmer and giving me free access to as many tomatoes as I could ever want or need) but I bought it purely for the novelty.

P.P.S. The last of my peonies. Just because I hate to see them go and their season is way too short.

I ♥ NYC

Our weekend in New York was the perfect little antidote. To what? I don't know, but it WAS fabulous! Actually, I had the whole week off last week. The first weekend, I spent in OKC with my Grandma at the hospital. Then, the next few days I had planned to kick off summer by lazing around at the pool and the beach with the kids; except, the weather was kind of crummy, so instead I cleaned out the junk/utility room in the basement and turned it into my craft/pottery/sewing studio, planted a bunch of flowers outside, and then finished ripping all the wallpaper off in my bathroom. So, yeah, I guess I needed New York to recover from my "vacation".

Friday, June 12, Derrick and I marked 15 years of marriage. We celebrated by spending the morning -- about 3 hours of it -- waiting in line at Central Park for tickets to the free Shakespeare in the Park performance at the outdoor Delacourte Theater. Despite the drizzly rain -- and the waiting -- it was a perfectly relaxing start to the day. We had packed a tarp-backed blanket and an umbrella (yeah, I forgot my camera chip but I packed a tarp and an umbrella -- go figure). The waiting was very organized, and everyone sort of camped out with their blankets and chairs, their umbrellas propped up on the fence. Where the little umbrellas left off, the huge leafy, green trees in the park offered shelter. We had take-out coffee, big New York-style everything bagels with cream cheese (Derrick had an egg sandwich from the Theater concession that he said was the best ever -- he wanted to go back there for breakfast every day!), our I-pods, books, and the crossword puzzle from the paper. Forced relaxation: drizzle and all, it was heavenly!

After we finally got our tickets (around 1 p.m.) we found one of those cheesy, touristy sailboat in the Harbour gigs in a magazine ad. This particular one left from the pier behind the World Financial Center on the south end of Manhattan. So, we went into the subway from where we were on the Upper West Side, followed the subway map as best we could and came back out into daylight in: a different country. Okay, technically we were still in the same country -- still on Manhattan actually -- but, wow, what a difference. I think we got off one stop too soon and I think we were in China Town.

We eventually found the pier (gave up and took a cab) and the cheesy, touristy sailboat thing turned out to be not cheesy at all. It was a gorgeous 45' sailboat and only 2 other people had booked for the afternoon sail, so we basically had a private charter. And the bonus? The sun came out, just for that 90 minute sail. We lounged on the deck, read the newspaper, and...I could KICK myself for not bringing my $&*% camera!

After the sail, we had a little time to kill before the play, so we went back to midtown to the Museum of Modern Art (Friday evenings are free at the MoMA, btw.) This is where I segue-way and admit I'm not really that cultured: 90% of modern art, I just don't get. It was nice to see the Picassos and the Warhols, but most of the other stuff? My kids could do. Seriously. There was a framed child's handprint. Exactly like the ones all of you have in save folder at home. And somebody's math homework too. I kid you not. I could have pulled one just like it from my recycle bin. Who decides what is art? Cause my kids need an agent. Apparently.

After MoMA, we headed back to Central Park to see Twelfth Night, starring Anne Hathaway as Viola. It was well worth the 3 hour wait for tickets. I expected it to be good, but it was really FABULOUS -- so funny and well acted. (This is why I was brushing up, reading the book earlier in the week. When I finished my book and offered it to Derrick, he surprised me by informing me he'd already read it as a teen -- along with several other of Shakespeare's works, and not as a school assignment, just because -- who knew?!)

It's a good thing we got most of our sight-seeing out of the way on Friday, because Saturday was another dark and drizzly day, so we took lazy to a whole new level and slept in until early afternoon. I don't think I've done that since I was a teenager. After some debate, I managed to convince Derrick to see Rock of Ages on Broadway for the Saturday night show. (He wanted to see Phantom of the Opera, which neither of us have seen, and I'm sure would have been great, but...I really wanted to see Rock of Ages.) So, this is the part where I admit that as a former 80's teen with a few crushes on hair-band lead singers in my teenage past (and this while my as yet to be met, classier husband-to-be was somewhere else listening to punk music and reading Shakespeare!) I HAD to see Rock of Ages. Derrick thought I just wanted to see Constantine (of AI fame, who plays the lead.) The theater was small, we had great seats, and the show was even better than I thought it would be. Derrick loved it too, by the way.

Other trip highlights: I was ready to move to New York purely on the merits of the Amish Market grocery store. We window shopped on Fifth Avenue. We also stopped in to have a look at St. Patrick's Cathedral, which was impressively gorgeous and big. There was a wedding there (I think in a smaller chapel within) and the party was just arriving by limo, so that was kind of cool to see. I couldn't find a place to throw away or set down my coffee before we went in, so I put it in my big purse while we were in the church. Then when we came outside again, I fumbled my umbrella and the purse and the coffee and managed to spill coffee down the front of my white tank top. But my purse was unscathed! And, it gave me a good excuse to slip into H&M and buy a new top. Funny story: the fitting room lines were mega-long, as were the register lines. Then, after I bought my top, I waited in line yet again for the bathroom (this time to change out of the ruined tank) only to find that the security tag had not been removed from the top I'd just bought, and I had to go back and wait in line yet again to get it removed. At this point, I was DONE with lines, and Derrick was getting weary of waiting too, so I changed my shirt out on the sidewalk, behind my umbrella. And you know what? No one batted an eyelash.

I love New York. We still have money left on our metro card, so now we HAVE to go back. (That, and to see Phantom, of course.) I vote that we make it an annual tradition.

It Sucks to Forget ____________.

Last weekend, when I my sisters and I went to Oklahoma, Lori picked me up and we went to the airport together. We had a very early flight and I was rushing around in the dark attempting to gather my last minute items without waking the whole house, when Lori called from the driveway that she was here, Bella was crying, and urged me to HURRY UP. Flustered, I grabbed my bags, but I was certain that I'd forgotten something. "Do you have your phone and your I.D.?" Lori asked. Blackberry, check. Driver's license, check. "Okay, then, anything else you can borrow, replace, or do without," she decided on my behalf.

It's true: very little of the collection of stuff that we cart along from place to place is truly an absolute necessity. These days, you don't even need tickets or a printed itinerary. Still, I was sure I'd forgotten something I'd miss. Sunglasses? Check. Debit/credit card? Check. Laptop? Check. I agreed with Lori, I think I've got the stuff I'd be most inconvenienced without.

Then, about halfway to the airport, I realized I'd forgotten the book I was halfway through. "What was it?" Lori asked. It was Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. "That sounds boring anyway," she said. "Um, it's actually good," I said, "but I've got another book in my suitcase that I'll pull out at the airport." "See? It's all fine." Then at the airport, I realized I forgotten the cash Derrick had pulled from the ATM for me. Hmph. Well, I guess they DO have ATMs in Oklahoma. Still, I was annoyed at myself for that. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, at the hotel: I realized I had forgotten my make-up bag! (I had grabbed the regulation baggie with the liquids, but everything else was in the make-up bag sitting on my bathroom counter.) This, actually, was not such a terrible tragedy: I got a free toothbrush from the hotel desk and I used my sisters' make-up. The tooth-brush was crummy but my sisters have really nice make-up -- much better than mine!

So what is the point of all this rambling about stuff I forgot? I'm a terrible packer! This is why I KNEW I had forgotten something. Not just because I was rushed, but because I ALWAYS forget something. The one consistent thing about me traveling and packing is that I WILL forget something. (Making a list will not remedy this situation. I have tried.) The variable is how important that something will be.

Today, Derrick and I are traveling yet again. We are en route (flight delayed at our connection) to NYC for a long weekend to celebrate our anniversary. This time? I forgot the memory card for my camera! I brought my big camera, I even stopped by my sister's house to borrow her camera bag. But without a memory card, it's not much use to me. I am so annoyed. This only happened because I graciously agreed to leave my laptop at home for the kids to use (which isn't as big a sacrifice as it seems, since Derrick packed his -- except it is, since I really prefer MY laptop.) And in that laptop? My memory card. I realized this as we were getting out of the car at the airport, so I made the executive decision not to even bring my camera. Derrick couldn't understand why I didn't just buy a new memory card in New York. (Cause it's an XD and it was kind of expensive.) He argued that wasn't the first and probably wouldn't be the last time that I had forgotten my memory card and it might be kind of nice to have a spare. Valid point. But, whatever. I left the camera in the car.

I just hope I haven't forgotten anything else. We are not there yet. It's too soon to tell.

Your turn to entertain me. (Since our flight has been delayed.) Fill in the blank. What do hate to forget?

Sibling Rivalry, the Stuff Legends are Made of

Growing up, we always heard the story about how my mom got her name. My grandma was pregnant with my mom (her first) at the same time her sister, Helen was pregnant with her third (or maybe it was her fourth?) child. They were due right around the same time and (Great) Aunt Helen had picked out the name Cecelia Ann for a girl. My grandma had chosen Elizabeth Ann, but when she went into labor first and had a girl, she decided she liked Cecelia Ann better and stole her sister's chosen name. I can only imagine that Helen was seething mad (and Aunt Helen mad is a scary picture, indeed!) Fortunately, Helen went on to have a boy -- my mom's cousin, Tony -- so the two sisters eventually made up. The story though, is a family legend still talked about today.

When my sisters and I were visiting with Grandma Annie in the hospital last weekend, Grandma said something funny that made me think of that story, and lent a whole new perspective to it. She was telling us what a challenge it had been for her to get and stay pregnant and that she was lucky to have had my mom and Donnie. Then she added this jaw-dropping little tidbit, "but, Helen, why, all her husband had to do was hang his pants at the end of her bed and she was knocked up again."

I have to wonder if the two are connected. Do not rankle my Grandma, she can hold her own...

Place Backs

When I was a kid, my brother and sisters and I had this little rule we made up called "Place Backs". Only, it wasn't just a little rule, in our house: it was practically sacred. It may as well have been the 11th Commandment. If you called Place Backs before your behind left your seat, you got your place back. It was yours until you sat somewhere else. If you left the room and someone got all cozy in your seat while you were gone, when you came back, all it took was a, "Dude, I called Place Backs" and they got up. No questions asked, no whining, no pouting. And, nobody ever thought about lying about calling Place Backs or trying to call it after the fact either, as that would also be a violation of the rule. Yes, Place Backs was a well-oiled machine and the penalty for violation was stiff: no one had to honor your Place Backs ever again. And you know what? In all my years of childhood, not a single one of my siblings ever broke the Place Backs rule. In fact, to this day, get all six of us together in a room and guaranteed, somebody will call Place Backs and it will be honored.

My own children have heard the stories about Place Backs. Somehow though, it has just never caught on with them. I guess that there is something about six siblings growing up in a 1200 square foot house (the one we lived in 'til I was 12) that puts the magic in Place Backs. In my grown-up house, we fly Place Backless.

Imagine though how it warmed my heart to find this little note taped to my laptop this evening (click photo to enlarge):

She Nailed It! (Whew!)

Tonight was Kristen's year-end piano awards recital. Her piece this year was Scott Joplin's Mapleleaf Rag. It was a really fun, fast and upbeat piece and she did an amazing job. (Due to technical difficulties I did not record it. Perhaps I can record a practice session/recreation later.)

For some reason, she was more nervous before playing this year than usual, she was convinced she was going to screw up, but she played flawlessly. I was really proud of her for soldiering through the nerves. Hopefully that will build her confidence for the next recital. She got to play 2nd out of 34 students, which was really nice since she didn't have too long to sit and worry. (And nice for me too, 'cause I think I get more nervous than she does, but I try to keep that to myself!)

Here she is showing off her awards: a Guild certificate and trophy and two composer statues, one each for passing the scale and chord quizzes this year, with a score of 28/30.

Congratulations, Kristen, on a job exceptionally well done!

Hospital Beauty Shop

We entertained ourselves at the hospital this evening by playing beauty shop. First, I styled baby Bella with a faux hawk.

Then somehow, we managed to convince Grandma Annie to let us cut, wash and style her hair.

After Natalie cut her hair, we got her into the bathroom and wrapped her up in towels and plastic bags so we could wash her hair with the hand shower. We weren't very successful in keeping her dry. We finally gave up and she let us give her a shower and put clean pajamas on her. Now we've got Bella asleep in the bouncer and Grandma Annie tucked into her bed. We are gathered around her and she is regaling us with stories of all the naughty things Mom did when she was little. (Don't you wish you were here to defend yourself, Mom?)

My mom's cousin Francie and her husband Pat were here earlier and they high-tailed it out of here when we got the scissors out. I think they didn't want to be implicated!

I am catching an early flight home in the morning, so that I can be back in time for Kristen's big recital. Natalie and Lori go home on Tuesday.