I have these lucky ladies in my life who get to call me friend. HA! Just kidding. I'm lucky to call them friend! Anyway, tonight was the night for my book club with said ladies. Yes, it's mine. I started it, I invited people to it, I coordinate it. Now, I can see where that sounds....mmmm, not nice. However, it really is. I really love the group right now. It has had some turnover and some shifting and people have come and gone and now it feels good and safe and fun.
When I started this group nearly 3 years and 31 books ago it looked much different than today. Over time some have found that the book group didn't work for them and for some they didn't work for it. Some are missed. There were others that got hurt or angry that they weren't invited. Well, really, I wasn't interested in a book...village, I just wanted an intimate little group. Waa. Create your own then. I can see that I'm amazing and that's why you're upset but just invite me to join yours. Maybe I'd say yes, maybe I'd say no. This one was mine however and I got to be the chooser of who got in. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.
Now, truthfully, we spend a small percentage of our time each month talking about the book we read. We talk about it until ...we're done talking about it. I've had a couple of people (not in this group) say that it's really just an excuse to socialize. No, that's not what it is for me. I love to read. I love books. I love discovering new authors and experiencing different writing techniques. I love exploring different genres and getting swept up in a story I might not have found if one of these ladies hadn't brought it to me. I love hearing the different opinions, thought processes and experiences that each person has about the book.
I asked that each person always read the book, even if it was a genre they didn't like, to experience something new. That hasn't always happened. I myself have not read 2 of the books and though I keep saying I'll pick them up they seem to have more dust piled on them every time I peer at them from across the room.
I love the reading and the talking about the reading - the cake.
I also love the frosting - the talking about our lives, our stories. We each have such fascinating and different stories. We have lived such different lives. In the book we just read there was a group of friends who were very diverse. That was what I related to most this time. I have that diversity that comes together beautifully in this group. There are 7 of us now.
1 - A woman who lives big and bold. She has opinions and she doesn't hesitate to share them. She has an ethereal beauty and an energy of purpose around her whether she's making baby food or making the world a better place.
2 - A woman who sits quietly to the side, listening, observing. When she speaks I listen attentively because she has so much to share, to give, to learn from. She's gentle and safe.
3 - A woman who continues to impress me with her courage and passion. Whether she's sitting in a board room or a family room, she means it.
4 - A woman who lives life on her terms, creating the life she sees fit to have. She has such power and grace and they both flow so freely and easily from her, touching everyone in reach.
5 - A woman who flows so easily with life and enjoys all of its simple pleasures. She teaches me to relax, sit back, chill, enjoy the journey.
6 - A woman who entertains me with her wit and intellect. She's always making me laugh or think and sometimes both at the same time.
Any one of them missing is a loss and, sadly, it's rare that we are all together at the same time. It's my favorite when all 7 of us are there with each other.
I love these women. I'm grateful that they stick with me. I'm grateful for what they give me each month.
I love you.
Thank you.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The love of food
I love Top Chef. I love Top Chef Masters. I love Yan Can Cook. I love Chopped. I love The Next Food Network Star. I pretty much love Food Network in it's entirety (with a few exceptions). I love kitchen stores. I love cookbooks, especially the ones with pictures. I love to cook. I'd love to partake of th 16 course tasting menu at Joel Robuchon. I'd love to eat at one, or all, of John Besh's restaurants. I'd love to go to eat at a new restaurant I've never been to every week. I'd love to have my very own restaurant. I'd love to have a sit down dinner party once a month.
I'd love to go to culinary school. I'd love for a culinary school to tailor their program around me... No classes before 10 am, 9 even... No farther than 15 miles away... No having to get yelled at... No astronomical tuition fees...
I shall now go try to get some sleep and dream of all these wonderful things...and maybe a little hanky panky dreaming as well...
I'd love to go to culinary school. I'd love for a culinary school to tailor their program around me... No classes before 10 am, 9 even... No farther than 15 miles away... No having to get yelled at... No astronomical tuition fees...
I shall now go try to get some sleep and dream of all these wonderful things...and maybe a little hanky panky dreaming as well...
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
I miss my friends in my house
2009 is half over. I have had zero, count 'em, zero parties at my house. By this time last year I think we'd had 5 at least. What the hell is going on here?
Sure my backyard isn't finished. My house is teeming with ants. Everyone seems busier than ever before if you can imagine it. Funds are low. Jim is...Jim. Things are crazy everywhere. Schedules are packed tight during the summer. I don't care. I think for all of those reasons, and more, it's time for us to come together for nothing more than because we can, because we want to, because we're friends, because it's time. I'm missing you so I can only imagine the withdrawals you are having from missing me. Hee hee.
Sure my backyard isn't finished. My house is teeming with ants. Everyone seems busier than ever before if you can imagine it. Funds are low. Jim is...Jim. Things are crazy everywhere. Schedules are packed tight during the summer. I don't care. I think for all of those reasons, and more, it's time for us to come together for nothing more than because we can, because we want to, because we're friends, because it's time. I'm missing you so I can only imagine the withdrawals you are having from missing me. Hee hee.
57 today
My daddy turned 57 years old today. Unfortunately I didn't realize it was actually July 1st until, at 1:00, he came down to where the kids and I were and announced, "Well, if no one's going to wish me a happy birthday I'll sing to myself!" Oops! Crap! I knew his birthday was coming, I'd asked him several times what he wanted. I mentioned it to Jim. I even planned on taking him to get his haircut tomorrow...it's what he said he wanted for his birthday. Just amidst the hustle to get baby books done, the stress of all of his little jobs (when the hell I became his personal assistant would be good to know. He has two daughters and both have computers, phones and intelligence. Well, both have two of the three) I lost track of the hours let alone days.
Anyway, I can't believe my pops is already 57. Writing that though 57 seems so young. My ex-father-in-law turned 62 today. How weird is it that they have the same birthday. Anyway, so my dad doesn't go out. He's basically an old codger hermit; turning into my grandfather. So, I told him I'd make him whatever he wanted for his birthday: panko fried shrimp, fried rice, vanilla ice cream cone. Done and done and delicious if I do say so myself. For presents he got loaded up with Pepsi, Giant Hershey's with almonds and Prilosec. I know. I know. But what do you get for him. I mean really. Someday I will be able to get him the Alaskan gold nugget watch he's been asking for for the last 20 years. Until then, I make do with getting him what I know he really enjoys and what I know he needs. Harrison thinks that sucks. I told him I was open to suggestions. He wants to get him one of those window decals that looks like it has a golf ball sticking out of a broken glass. Wtf? Oh geesh, little boys.
With all the shit my dad has done, does and will do I wouldn't trade him for anything or anyone in the world. He's my daddy. He has a huge heart, is supremely generous in his own way (you'd have to kown him...), and loves and spoils us.
He tells me all the time he doesn't expect to see Harrison graduate from high school. I told him the next time he said that to me I would punch him in the face. He didn't think that was funny. He didn't like that one bit. In fact, he pretty much gave me the silent treatment for the whole afternoon. Well, give me a break. What am I suppose to say to that shit?! My son is only six years away from graduating. I'm planning on having more grandkids for him to make made-t0-order breakfast for, give the claw to, and tease relentlessly.
Happy birthday father. May you have many many many many more!
Anyway, I can't believe my pops is already 57. Writing that though 57 seems so young. My ex-father-in-law turned 62 today. How weird is it that they have the same birthday. Anyway, so my dad doesn't go out. He's basically an old codger hermit; turning into my grandfather. So, I told him I'd make him whatever he wanted for his birthday: panko fried shrimp, fried rice, vanilla ice cream cone. Done and done and delicious if I do say so myself. For presents he got loaded up with Pepsi, Giant Hershey's with almonds and Prilosec. I know. I know. But what do you get for him. I mean really. Someday I will be able to get him the Alaskan gold nugget watch he's been asking for for the last 20 years. Until then, I make do with getting him what I know he really enjoys and what I know he needs. Harrison thinks that sucks. I told him I was open to suggestions. He wants to get him one of those window decals that looks like it has a golf ball sticking out of a broken glass. Wtf? Oh geesh, little boys.
With all the shit my dad has done, does and will do I wouldn't trade him for anything or anyone in the world. He's my daddy. He has a huge heart, is supremely generous in his own way (you'd have to kown him...), and loves and spoils us.
He tells me all the time he doesn't expect to see Harrison graduate from high school. I told him the next time he said that to me I would punch him in the face. He didn't think that was funny. He didn't like that one bit. In fact, he pretty much gave me the silent treatment for the whole afternoon. Well, give me a break. What am I suppose to say to that shit?! My son is only six years away from graduating. I'm planning on having more grandkids for him to make made-t0-order breakfast for, give the claw to, and tease relentlessly.
Happy birthday father. May you have many many many many more!
"Not a single American soldier was in sight. Gone, too, were the American helicopters whose buzz has for years defined Baghdad's background track."
This was the opening sentence to an Associated Press article about today's withdrawal of American combat forces from Iraqi towns and cities. It's an important day, an important step for America and I'm wondering how many citizens of this country are even aware that it has occurred.
I came across an interesting website that lists a lot of fascinating information about the war in Iraq. http://usliberals.about.com/od/homelandsecurit1/a/IraqNumbers.htm
A few about our men and women:
There are approx. 130,000 US troops still stationed at bases in Iraq
4.318 US troops have died in this war.
54% of those who died were under the age of 25.
31,368 have been seriously injured.
A few days from now we will celebrate our Independence Day. Flags will be flown, people will be wearing the colors of Old Glory, there will be barbecuing and fireworks. Where will the gratitude be? Each month I have an opportunity to poll a room full of people and ask how many voted in the last national election. I am always shocked and horrified to see that about half of the people raise their hands...only half! I don't get it. We are citizens of the United States of America because a couple centuries ago some people were willing to risk everything, including life, to fight for independence, for freedom. Since then many wars have been waged in the name of freedom. Approximately 658,000 US soldiers (not including the civil war) have died in wars, conflicts or military actions defending freedom. This doesn't include the thousands and thousands of civilian casualties. I am continually floored by how easily people can disregard the priviliges they have in this country, including the right (and responsibility in my opinion) to vote.
No, our country isn't perfect...but it's ours. What are we doing to perfect it. To those who constantly bitch on the sidelines about anything and everything that's wrong with our governement...what are you doing, besides pontificating and basking in your self righteousness, about making changes. Did you educate yourself on issues? Did you vote? Have you contacted your representatives? Have you volunteered with an organization that supports your beliefs in government? Have you shown any gratitude to anyone actually taking action? Have you supported our service men and women?
Surely in the next few days we will hear many patriotic tunes on the radio. One of my personal favorites is God Bless the USA by Lee Greenwooed. Every word of that song rings in my heart, and despite having heard it 3 million (give or take a million) the chorus can bring a tear to my eye every time:
...I'm proud to be an American
Where at least I know I'm free
And I won't forget the men who died
Who gave that right to me...
"Not a single American soldier was in sight. Gone, too, were the American helicopters whose buzz has for years defined Baghdad's background track." As I read this sentence I was reminded of Captain Nathaniel J. Doring who flew helicopters for the Marine Corps during Operation Iraqi Freedom. On May 30,2006 Nate died while flying his AH-1 Cobra. Capt. Doring was the husband that none of us thought "Lethal Lisa" would ever have. He did what many tried and failed at...he got her to be his...forever. I honor Nate, Lisa and all the men and women who serve in our armed forces and also in our government. They are the ones taking active roles in securing and maintaining our freedom.
This was the opening sentence to an Associated Press article about today's withdrawal of American combat forces from Iraqi towns and cities. It's an important day, an important step for America and I'm wondering how many citizens of this country are even aware that it has occurred.
I came across an interesting website that lists a lot of fascinating information about the war in Iraq. http://usliberals.about.com/od/homelandsecurit1/a/IraqNumbers.htm
A few about our men and women:
There are approx. 130,000 US troops still stationed at bases in Iraq
4.318 US troops have died in this war.
54% of those who died were under the age of 25.
31,368 have been seriously injured.
A few days from now we will celebrate our Independence Day. Flags will be flown, people will be wearing the colors of Old Glory, there will be barbecuing and fireworks. Where will the gratitude be? Each month I have an opportunity to poll a room full of people and ask how many voted in the last national election. I am always shocked and horrified to see that about half of the people raise their hands...only half! I don't get it. We are citizens of the United States of America because a couple centuries ago some people were willing to risk everything, including life, to fight for independence, for freedom. Since then many wars have been waged in the name of freedom. Approximately 658,000 US soldiers (not including the civil war) have died in wars, conflicts or military actions defending freedom. This doesn't include the thousands and thousands of civilian casualties. I am continually floored by how easily people can disregard the priviliges they have in this country, including the right (and responsibility in my opinion) to vote.
No, our country isn't perfect...but it's ours. What are we doing to perfect it. To those who constantly bitch on the sidelines about anything and everything that's wrong with our governement...what are you doing, besides pontificating and basking in your self righteousness, about making changes. Did you educate yourself on issues? Did you vote? Have you contacted your representatives? Have you volunteered with an organization that supports your beliefs in government? Have you shown any gratitude to anyone actually taking action? Have you supported our service men and women?
Surely in the next few days we will hear many patriotic tunes on the radio. One of my personal favorites is God Bless the USA by Lee Greenwooed. Every word of that song rings in my heart, and despite having heard it 3 million (give or take a million) the chorus can bring a tear to my eye every time:
...I'm proud to be an American
Where at least I know I'm free
And I won't forget the men who died
Who gave that right to me...
"Not a single American soldier was in sight. Gone, too, were the American helicopters whose buzz has for years defined Baghdad's background track." As I read this sentence I was reminded of Captain Nathaniel J. Doring who flew helicopters for the Marine Corps during Operation Iraqi Freedom. On May 30,2006 Nate died while flying his AH-1 Cobra. Capt. Doring was the husband that none of us thought "Lethal Lisa" would ever have. He did what many tried and failed at...he got her to be his...forever. I honor Nate, Lisa and all the men and women who serve in our armed forces and also in our government. They are the ones taking active roles in securing and maintaining our freedom.
Monday, June 29, 2009
I may be a bitch but I am nice.
My children are taking the discussions. I know. I know. However, it's important to them and if it's going to happen I'd rather it happen here where I can hear and observe. There are two missionaries and one almost-missionary from the area teaching my kids.
Elder Kaufmann is from Montreal. Elder Onon is from Mongolia (I had guessed Russian when I first saw him...oops), Ken has crazy hair and is from down the road aways. I think they were a little scared of me. I wasn't rude but brief when they would come by before and when I scheduled the first discussion for the kids I said I just wanted to get it over with. Then, one day they stopped by just to sing a song and asked if that was okay. I told them no. I mean, it was right in the middle of my show, at a critical and intense part, and I didn't care to miss it to hear them sing, I mean can you blame me? Well, most of you reading this won't but there may be a lurker among you who will. Too bad.
The first time they came to teach I noticed that Elder K's belt was totally destroyed. I mean the poor kid had it all peeling in the back and shit, how could I not buy him a new belt. I ran right down to Walmart before they came back yesterday to get him a new one. It turned into two trips because I chose a size too small. He was so excited, he was like a kid on Christmas morning over a boring black belt. After the first meeting at two in the afternoon I also told them to start scheduling the kids for four and I would make them dinner afterward.
Harrison asked me why I was being so nice to them if I didn't want to be Mormon. I'm nice. I'm a nice person. How does he not know this about me? Anyway, I explained that if he was ever in a foreign country I would hope that if someone noticed something he was lacking, that they could easily provide, that they would be willing to do so. And...I told him I'm nice, period.
Now, when I asked them if they had any dinner requests Elder K asked for cornbread and Elder asked for chicken or fish. Then someone whispered that fish was expensive and he spoke up and said, "Oh, I mean just chicken. Chicken's great." Silly boy, I'll make him fish on Thursday. I have never made cornbread before. Do you know you have to heat the skillet in the oven before you pour the batter in. Yeah, well, you do. I did. And then as the hot skillet was sitting on the stovetop and I was pouring the batter into it, my arm touched the handle and now I have a decent sized V shaped nasty burn on my arm. They better have enjoyed that dumb cornbread. I also made the best bbq chicken of my entire life. The Neely's ain't got nothin' on me! Okay, so it was their recipe but still. It was delicious and I made it!!! J., you would have been impressed.
Today I made them stuffed shells with lots of side dished. I had a huge casserole dish full of shells. Those young men ate the whole thing. I, am smart, and made an extra pan so that I would have some to feed Jim when he got home and give him for lunch. I'm smart and nice.
It's been interesting listening to the lessons they are giving. Some I can relax to, like the 10 commandments, others tense me up a bit. What I can appreciate is my children's interest in learning and the passion and commitment it takes from these boys to be here in this place, away from their friends and family, their lives. I can appreciate that, honor it even, for what it means to them. And, the mother in me can make sure these boys don't leave my house hungry and make sure that they have a good belt.
As I sat watching two of them play the guitar and sing while the other sketched my daughter I realized how much time has passed. 20 years ago I was a young girl that went on P-days as a chaperone with the missionaries in Alaska. They came in groups to "Mom Campbell's" for food, for talk, for a few moments of being nurtured, and an opportunity to feel like part of a family. They would always bring the greenies over and put one over on them playing one practical joke or another. I had a crush or two, more often felt like I had what could pass for a time as big brothers. Now, I'm watching my boy (who is ironically the same age as I was when I first heard the discussions) and my girl learn from these boys not much older than them. I look on the whole group of them with the eyes of a mother and it occurs to me that I am 13 years older than them. I look at them and wonder at how their own moms can stand for them to be away for 2 years with only 2 phone calls allowed per year. I wonder about Ken who is expecting to get his mission call any day now. He is diabetic and has one of those automatic insulin IV things. He said the only limitation he has is the area he can go to. He has to go to a "first world" country. (What is a first world, or second world, country for that matter. What constitutes whether a country is gold, silver or bronze? Hmm). He expects he'll stay stateside. Well, if I was his mom I would tell him he could just serve a mission down at the DI or something! That's what I say about that.
Ohhh, time just keeps ticking. Everyone is growing older and today it seems like it's going by way too fast. Everything is way too fast.
Elder Kaufmann is from Montreal. Elder Onon is from Mongolia (I had guessed Russian when I first saw him...oops), Ken has crazy hair and is from down the road aways. I think they were a little scared of me. I wasn't rude but brief when they would come by before and when I scheduled the first discussion for the kids I said I just wanted to get it over with. Then, one day they stopped by just to sing a song and asked if that was okay. I told them no. I mean, it was right in the middle of my show, at a critical and intense part, and I didn't care to miss it to hear them sing, I mean can you blame me? Well, most of you reading this won't but there may be a lurker among you who will. Too bad.
The first time they came to teach I noticed that Elder K's belt was totally destroyed. I mean the poor kid had it all peeling in the back and shit, how could I not buy him a new belt. I ran right down to Walmart before they came back yesterday to get him a new one. It turned into two trips because I chose a size too small. He was so excited, he was like a kid on Christmas morning over a boring black belt. After the first meeting at two in the afternoon I also told them to start scheduling the kids for four and I would make them dinner afterward.
Harrison asked me why I was being so nice to them if I didn't want to be Mormon. I'm nice. I'm a nice person. How does he not know this about me? Anyway, I explained that if he was ever in a foreign country I would hope that if someone noticed something he was lacking, that they could easily provide, that they would be willing to do so. And...I told him I'm nice, period.
Now, when I asked them if they had any dinner requests Elder K asked for cornbread and Elder asked for chicken or fish. Then someone whispered that fish was expensive and he spoke up and said, "Oh, I mean just chicken. Chicken's great." Silly boy, I'll make him fish on Thursday. I have never made cornbread before. Do you know you have to heat the skillet in the oven before you pour the batter in. Yeah, well, you do. I did. And then as the hot skillet was sitting on the stovetop and I was pouring the batter into it, my arm touched the handle and now I have a decent sized V shaped nasty burn on my arm. They better have enjoyed that dumb cornbread. I also made the best bbq chicken of my entire life. The Neely's ain't got nothin' on me! Okay, so it was their recipe but still. It was delicious and I made it!!! J., you would have been impressed.
Today I made them stuffed shells with lots of side dished. I had a huge casserole dish full of shells. Those young men ate the whole thing. I, am smart, and made an extra pan so that I would have some to feed Jim when he got home and give him for lunch. I'm smart and nice.
It's been interesting listening to the lessons they are giving. Some I can relax to, like the 10 commandments, others tense me up a bit. What I can appreciate is my children's interest in learning and the passion and commitment it takes from these boys to be here in this place, away from their friends and family, their lives. I can appreciate that, honor it even, for what it means to them. And, the mother in me can make sure these boys don't leave my house hungry and make sure that they have a good belt.
As I sat watching two of them play the guitar and sing while the other sketched my daughter I realized how much time has passed. 20 years ago I was a young girl that went on P-days as a chaperone with the missionaries in Alaska. They came in groups to "Mom Campbell's" for food, for talk, for a few moments of being nurtured, and an opportunity to feel like part of a family. They would always bring the greenies over and put one over on them playing one practical joke or another. I had a crush or two, more often felt like I had what could pass for a time as big brothers. Now, I'm watching my boy (who is ironically the same age as I was when I first heard the discussions) and my girl learn from these boys not much older than them. I look on the whole group of them with the eyes of a mother and it occurs to me that I am 13 years older than them. I look at them and wonder at how their own moms can stand for them to be away for 2 years with only 2 phone calls allowed per year. I wonder about Ken who is expecting to get his mission call any day now. He is diabetic and has one of those automatic insulin IV things. He said the only limitation he has is the area he can go to. He has to go to a "first world" country. (What is a first world, or second world, country for that matter. What constitutes whether a country is gold, silver or bronze? Hmm). He expects he'll stay stateside. Well, if I was his mom I would tell him he could just serve a mission down at the DI or something! That's what I say about that.
Ohhh, time just keeps ticking. Everyone is growing older and today it seems like it's going by way too fast. Everything is way too fast.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
What do you say?
Saturday my Jim left at a ridiculous hour of the morning to go to a paintball tournament. He hasn't played in about a year and was excited to get out there with some of his friends and teammates and to see friends that had come from out of town to participate in this tournament.
He came home soaking wet, caked in mud, miserable with a light in his eyes for the happy reunions he had with many of his ol' paintball friends. They were there in their campers and their tents jostling for his attention, ribbing him for no longer drinking, shocked that he'd gotten married. He told me all about the day with some irritation but mostly with the glow he gets when he realizes people still care, still know, still value him. We went to bed that night planning on getting up a little later on Sunday and heading back up to play some more (well he would play I would be groupie).
Unfortunately, the glow from the night before was quickly diminished when I heard him answer his phone Sunday morning and caught only these words, "...fucking christ, are you fucking serious..." At that I was up and out of bed as he got off the phone and told me two people died on the mountain. We quickly began grabbing coats, dry socks, water, etc. (it was suppose to rain more) to get up there and do what we could to assist people in getting themselves and their cars down, give them something dry something warm.
On the way up I asked who had died, hoping it wasn't another of his friends as he'd just had a friend die a few days before. I realized then that he'd been avoiding telling me who in the first place as he looked at me, sighed and said, "Two kids". He went on to say that Life Flight had already been and gone and that maybe they'd been able to revive them. We both knew this wasn't the case but said "maybe" anyway.
When Jim and I got there I saw one of the young men in our lives. As I gave him a hug he choked back tears as he said into my shoulder, "I didn't want to see a dead kid today." What do you say? I just hugged him, tighter, and told him I knew. There was a lot that went on throughout the day, more than I'm willing to go into. Here's what I will say. At one point I became aware that the mother of the 10 year old girl who died was sitting 15 yards away from me. I went and sat with her and later held her as she sobbed, looked into the eyes of her grief stricken husband. What do you say? What could I say? I had no idea what to say. I so much wanted to know what to say. In this moment I have no idea what I ever did say. Sitting here I'm reminded of a song Reba sings. The chorus goes:
What do you say in a moment like this
When you can't find the words to tell it like it is
Just close your eyes and let your heart lead the way
Oh, what do you say...
I suppose in those moments I just let my heart lead the way.
When the end of the day came I was exhausted. Jim and I had stayed long after we needed to. It was important to me to see, with my own eyes, that every one of those people was down off of that mountain. I wanted to be sure those strangers, those people that make up the paintball family, were okay, were safe. I wanted to see the eyes of the event organizer once everyone was down, be sure that inside of him he was safe. I wanted to see the two young men who often drive me crazy drive away in their trucks and their trailers knowing they were headed home. I wanted to be a witness to the days' events for the landowners in some way feeling I couldn't walk away too early for them. I wanted to be sure that, not knowing what to do, I did everything I possibly could.
Jim and I headed home and I kept asking myself what more I could've done, could've said.
What do you say?
As I looked over at this gentle man holding my hand I was overcome with gratitude knowing that between he and I nothing needed to be said.
He came home soaking wet, caked in mud, miserable with a light in his eyes for the happy reunions he had with many of his ol' paintball friends. They were there in their campers and their tents jostling for his attention, ribbing him for no longer drinking, shocked that he'd gotten married. He told me all about the day with some irritation but mostly with the glow he gets when he realizes people still care, still know, still value him. We went to bed that night planning on getting up a little later on Sunday and heading back up to play some more (well he would play I would be groupie).
Unfortunately, the glow from the night before was quickly diminished when I heard him answer his phone Sunday morning and caught only these words, "...fucking christ, are you fucking serious..." At that I was up and out of bed as he got off the phone and told me two people died on the mountain. We quickly began grabbing coats, dry socks, water, etc. (it was suppose to rain more) to get up there and do what we could to assist people in getting themselves and their cars down, give them something dry something warm.
On the way up I asked who had died, hoping it wasn't another of his friends as he'd just had a friend die a few days before. I realized then that he'd been avoiding telling me who in the first place as he looked at me, sighed and said, "Two kids". He went on to say that Life Flight had already been and gone and that maybe they'd been able to revive them. We both knew this wasn't the case but said "maybe" anyway.
When Jim and I got there I saw one of the young men in our lives. As I gave him a hug he choked back tears as he said into my shoulder, "I didn't want to see a dead kid today." What do you say? I just hugged him, tighter, and told him I knew. There was a lot that went on throughout the day, more than I'm willing to go into. Here's what I will say. At one point I became aware that the mother of the 10 year old girl who died was sitting 15 yards away from me. I went and sat with her and later held her as she sobbed, looked into the eyes of her grief stricken husband. What do you say? What could I say? I had no idea what to say. I so much wanted to know what to say. In this moment I have no idea what I ever did say. Sitting here I'm reminded of a song Reba sings. The chorus goes:
What do you say in a moment like this
When you can't find the words to tell it like it is
Just close your eyes and let your heart lead the way
Oh, what do you say...
I suppose in those moments I just let my heart lead the way.
When the end of the day came I was exhausted. Jim and I had stayed long after we needed to. It was important to me to see, with my own eyes, that every one of those people was down off of that mountain. I wanted to be sure those strangers, those people that make up the paintball family, were okay, were safe. I wanted to see the eyes of the event organizer once everyone was down, be sure that inside of him he was safe. I wanted to see the two young men who often drive me crazy drive away in their trucks and their trailers knowing they were headed home. I wanted to be a witness to the days' events for the landowners in some way feeling I couldn't walk away too early for them. I wanted to be sure that, not knowing what to do, I did everything I possibly could.
Jim and I headed home and I kept asking myself what more I could've done, could've said.
What do you say?
As I looked over at this gentle man holding my hand I was overcome with gratitude knowing that between he and I nothing needed to be said.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
He's Home!
My boy is home! Yea!! He has been gone since yesterday morning but it feels like a week. He went to Scout Camp. How dumb is that?! Okay, well, apparently he and Jim don't think it's dumb. They were all psyched up getting all his crap together, including 3 pocket knives. Apparently one is never enough and you never know which one you might need. Huh?!
This is the only time that Harrison has been gone so far away and not with either Dan or myself (they went to camp in Idaho). I've been a little freaking out about all the different scenarios that could go wrong. I'm a dork. However, he is home safe and sound, despite dumb camp patrol bullies, a horse that decided he didn't want to take the beaten path, and a bug bite that has swollen to 2 inches across. He jumped in the shower before I even knew he was home. Hee hee.
Now, I shall wait for my man to get home. He's been gone since the ridiculous hour of 5am on his day off and that's dumb!
This is the only time that Harrison has been gone so far away and not with either Dan or myself (they went to camp in Idaho). I've been a little freaking out about all the different scenarios that could go wrong. I'm a dork. However, he is home safe and sound, despite dumb camp patrol bullies, a horse that decided he didn't want to take the beaten path, and a bug bite that has swollen to 2 inches across. He jumped in the shower before I even knew he was home. Hee hee.
Now, I shall wait for my man to get home. He's been gone since the ridiculous hour of 5am on his day off and that's dumb!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
La Roca
My amazing son made the "dream team". He had his first practice with them today. I am so happy. From just this one practice I can see that we made such a great decision moving him out of the environment he was in to this one. The coach was actually....coaching! Woo hoo! When, the coach smiles, it actually looks like a smile as opposed to a leer or a sneer.
I'm so excited for him to be with La Roca. He is so happy and excited. They have their first tournament next Wednesday through Saturday. I'm glad I'll get to see the first two days but hate that I'll be missing the last two and possibly my boy in the championship game. Ah, well, one thing as it comes. Right now I'm thrilled that we're both happy with where he's at.
I'm so excited for him to be with La Roca. He is so happy and excited. They have their first tournament next Wednesday through Saturday. I'm glad I'll get to see the first two days but hate that I'll be missing the last two and possibly my boy in the championship game. Ah, well, one thing as it comes. Right now I'm thrilled that we're both happy with where he's at.
My freaking garden
So, two years ago I wasn't so excited about our first garden. Last year, I got a little thrill from it. This year, I'm kind of digging it (no pun intended). However, being this much more into it increases my attachment and therefore my frustration when things don't go well. Indeed, I've had bugs eating holes in my broadleaf plants (pumpkin, peppers, potatoes) and my corn leaves have turned a purply-brown and my peas aren't looking to well.
I got my ladybugs from UPS today and when I went and released the 1500 little buggers there were like 2 million flies, no not gnats, FLIES all around my entire garden. Seriously. 2 million. For real. It was disgusting! I've never seen so many flies in my entire life!!!! I'm getting creeped out just thinking about it.
Jim thinks they came from our mulch. We got two loads of mulch (from the dump) and have the mulch spread throughout our entire garden. He thinks the eggs were in all the mulch and that they've just all hatched in the last day. Blech. Ach. Argh. Gag. #&*!$#!!!!!!! He promises me they'll all be gone in 2-3 days. They better be. Disgusting! Gross! 2 million!
I got my ladybugs from UPS today and when I went and released the 1500 little buggers there were like 2 million flies, no not gnats, FLIES all around my entire garden. Seriously. 2 million. For real. It was disgusting! I've never seen so many flies in my entire life!!!! I'm getting creeped out just thinking about it.
Jim thinks they came from our mulch. We got two loads of mulch (from the dump) and have the mulch spread throughout our entire garden. He thinks the eggs were in all the mulch and that they've just all hatched in the last day. Blech. Ach. Argh. Gag. #&*!$#!!!!!!! He promises me they'll all be gone in 2-3 days. They better be. Disgusting! Gross! 2 million!
June 17th v. June 21st
So, today I found out that my Father's Day present for Jim isn't going to be here in time. Due to stupid bitch medical receptionists, my increase in medical worrying, delayed insurance and other various reasons I shall not be able to give an incredibly cute, super sentimental and totally cheesy card to Jim saying that he actually will be a father. I had it all planned out. Oh, yes, in it's incredibly cheesy entirety I had it all planned out. Alas, it is not to be. And, I really thought it would be.
The really ridiculous part, however, is how I have tortured myself all day with the notion that I jinxed myself or something. The last couple of weeks I've had a few people ask me, each in their own special way, whether I was pregnant. To which my response was, "I could be". Physically, medically, scientifically, whateverally I could be. I pretty much believed I was. Then, this weekend in a conversation with someone that got a little...ummm...painful or scary or maybe both....I altered, faltered even, and responded with something like, 'Well, I'm not yet so let's cross that bridge when we come to it'. Now, those weren't my exact words but they carry the same message and it's that message that I've been beating myself up over. What kid would want to come to someone who changes their story when things get tough.
Now, I know it's ridiculous and tomorrow I will realize that. Tomorrow I will see that it works better this way because what kid, really, would want their birthday to have to compete with my annual Green Day Feast. I will know tomorrow that it's just a fact of nature and that I'm 33 and just barely had my IUD out and only had a couple opportunities to actually get "knocked up" as one of you so eloquently put it. Tomorrow I will stop being dumb. Technically, later today after I've gone to sleep and awakened I will stop being dumb.
For now I'll think about how cute the card I was going to make was and about how my weakness took it away. In a few hours though I'll stop being dumb. In a few days...maybe I can seduce my husband.
The really ridiculous part, however, is how I have tortured myself all day with the notion that I jinxed myself or something. The last couple of weeks I've had a few people ask me, each in their own special way, whether I was pregnant. To which my response was, "I could be". Physically, medically, scientifically, whateverally I could be. I pretty much believed I was. Then, this weekend in a conversation with someone that got a little...ummm...painful or scary or maybe both....I altered, faltered even, and responded with something like, 'Well, I'm not yet so let's cross that bridge when we come to it'. Now, those weren't my exact words but they carry the same message and it's that message that I've been beating myself up over. What kid would want to come to someone who changes their story when things get tough.
Now, I know it's ridiculous and tomorrow I will realize that. Tomorrow I will see that it works better this way because what kid, really, would want their birthday to have to compete with my annual Green Day Feast. I will know tomorrow that it's just a fact of nature and that I'm 33 and just barely had my IUD out and only had a couple opportunities to actually get "knocked up" as one of you so eloquently put it. Tomorrow I will stop being dumb. Technically, later today after I've gone to sleep and awakened I will stop being dumb.
For now I'll think about how cute the card I was going to make was and about how my weakness took it away. In a few hours though I'll stop being dumb. In a few days...maybe I can seduce my husband.
Father's Day Part 1
So this week I got a package from Barnes & Noble. When my dad asked what it was I told him it was his Father's Day present. I opened it up and pulled out two books by Michael J. Fox, Lucky Man and Always Looking Up. I told him that I got them for him for Father's Day but since that it wasn't until the 21st I was going to read them first.
Now, the look on my dad's face was priceless. Here's what you may not know. My father has, literally, read one book in his entire (almost) 57 years on this earth (Lord of the Flies in case you're curious). So you can imagine the look he gave me. Ah, it's making me chuckle just remember it.
So, today, another package came and when he asked me what it was I told him it was the other part of his Father's Day present and pulled out...two more books. HA HA HA. I'm really cracking up now.
On the real day I'll probably give him some bottled Pepsi and Hershey's with Almonds. That's the best he's getting from me this year...unless he wants to keep the books.
Now, the look on my dad's face was priceless. Here's what you may not know. My father has, literally, read one book in his entire (almost) 57 years on this earth (Lord of the Flies in case you're curious). So you can imagine the look he gave me. Ah, it's making me chuckle just remember it.
So, today, another package came and when he asked me what it was I told him it was the other part of his Father's Day present and pulled out...two more books. HA HA HA. I'm really cracking up now.
On the real day I'll probably give him some bottled Pepsi and Hershey's with Almonds. That's the best he's getting from me this year...unless he wants to keep the books.
Michael J. Fox
I've pretty much been in love with Michael J. Fox since I was about 10 years old. When I was about 11 I got pretty much my favorite article of clothing ever...well maybe besides my bridal shower shoes, and my bright blue turtleneck sweater that had to be retired last year, and that one silver skirt but anyway... It was a purple tshirt with Michael J. Fox's face screen printed on it. The picture was about 8x10. I pretty much wore this shirt out. I wanted to wear it all day every day. Every few days it would start to smell (imagine being a ten year old tomboy in the heat of Vegas summer) and my mother would make me wash it. Every time it went in the wash I cried a little because it deteriorated a little bit. By the time the shirt was worn about the 500th time, a couple of years later, you could no longer tell Michael J. Fox was pictured, let alone any human being.
I've seen, I think, every American made tv show or film he's ever done. I think my favorite character he's ever played was Lewis Rothschild in The American President. He seemed so natural and at ease with the role. Don't get me wrong, I loved him even in such ridiculous movies as Teen Wolf, but this time it felt authentic. I'm not sure how an actor...acting...can feel authentic but that's the word that seems to fit best.
I remember when, almost 11 years ago, Michael J. Fox announced that he had Parkinson's Disease. I remember feeling such emotion for him...not just for the fact that he had PD but for People posting it on their website a week before they agreed to publish - what a violation I imagine that must have felt after trusting them with so sensitive a topic for someone...for the toll it must have taken to feel the need to have to hide for so long. As the interview with Barbara Walters and the following interviews, Senate hearings, etc. followed in the months and years after I was renewed in my love (some would just call it infatuation) for this great man.
I have just finished his memoir, Lucky Man. I'm not a big memoir/biography person. In fact I've had Katherine Hepburn's on my shelf for 3 years and haven't gotten to it yet. I received Lucky Man two days ago and read it in its entirety today. It is an authentic, intimate and candid look into his life; revealing many things that most of us living outside his bubble would never know otherwise. He is inspiring. His beautiful, talented wife, Tracy Pollan, is inspiring. Lucky for her I've always loved and respected her nearly as much as him. Otherwise, I might have been labled a homewrecker.
I've seen, I think, every American made tv show or film he's ever done. I think my favorite character he's ever played was Lewis Rothschild in The American President. He seemed so natural and at ease with the role. Don't get me wrong, I loved him even in such ridiculous movies as Teen Wolf, but this time it felt authentic. I'm not sure how an actor...acting...can feel authentic but that's the word that seems to fit best.
I remember when, almost 11 years ago, Michael J. Fox announced that he had Parkinson's Disease. I remember feeling such emotion for him...not just for the fact that he had PD but for People posting it on their website a week before they agreed to publish - what a violation I imagine that must have felt after trusting them with so sensitive a topic for someone...for the toll it must have taken to feel the need to have to hide for so long. As the interview with Barbara Walters and the following interviews, Senate hearings, etc. followed in the months and years after I was renewed in my love (some would just call it infatuation) for this great man.
I have just finished his memoir, Lucky Man. I'm not a big memoir/biography person. In fact I've had Katherine Hepburn's on my shelf for 3 years and haven't gotten to it yet. I received Lucky Man two days ago and read it in its entirety today. It is an authentic, intimate and candid look into his life; revealing many things that most of us living outside his bubble would never know otherwise. He is inspiring. His beautiful, talented wife, Tracy Pollan, is inspiring. Lucky for her I've always loved and respected her nearly as much as him. Otherwise, I might have been labled a homewrecker.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Loss
Have you ever felt an overwhelming loss for something that, really, you never even had. Today I feel that loss. Today I feel that overwhelming loss. I came to the sudden realization that as much as I want it, as much as I've held on to if I just believe it, if I have enough faith, enough patience, if I just...then I'll have it. I don't have it. I haven't had it. It's clear to me that I won't have it. Naive, 33 years old, and still so very, foolishly naive.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
