The Rant

This is an abbreviated rant, because if I get started I may never stop. And I only have a few more minutes on the library computer.

I. Have. No. Internet.

Thank you, AT&T.

I'm getting 3 months free, but at this point, I'm not sure that can compensate.

If you hear screaming, you know why. Pray, people, pray, or I may not stay sane.

Hugs to all, and you know how to reach me. And if you don't, I hope you know someone. ;)

Update ... again

So many things have happened, I'm forgetting to put them on my list. For example, I forgot to write that my toddler spilled the entire bottle of fish food this morning. And more importantly, I forgot to mention that one of my favorite friends passed away yesterday.

Not that those two things really belong in the same level of my stratosphere, but it's just the idea of one disaster after another, some humorous, and some not so much.

Update

So I haven't been on my own blog in so long it forgot my user name. Nice. And now I will explain why with a list:

• Broken arm (Hannah).
  
• Strep throat (Lizzy).
• Concerts, field trips, recitals, games....
• Birthday party (#1, Sariah's).
• The Move to the new house next week (packing, packing, packing, packing...).
• Unrepairable dishwasher. *#$%@*!!!!!
• House repairs.
• Mother's Day--yay!!!!!
• Bronchitis (Sariah).
• Licking people at school (just guess...).
• Chewing the aglets off shoelaces, yours and other people's (do you really need to guess again?). You should check out this website purely for entertainment value.
  
• Astraphobia and lilapsophobia (Caleb). Those are big words for irrational and very inconvenient fear of lightning, thunder, and tornadoes, and anything like unto them (for example, clouds in the sky).
  
• Stolen garage door opener, from my car, recovered but now it's evidence. That means I need to go buy new openers for our buyers because it'll be ages before we see that one again, and for some reason I am unwilling to tell the buyers what happened to the first one. Another @#$%^*!!!
  
• Tornado sirens, 3 times in one night. And not a tornado in sight.

That's all since last Friday.

Man, I had to look up a lot of words for that post.

Why am I so tired, anyway?

Overheard

As Caleb was trying on shoes at Payless:

"Mom, I've lemonaded that pair up there."

Of course, when Caleb said this, I actually thought, "Is this some kind of modern colloquialism that I haven't a clue about?" I must be getting old. It took me a while. I must be getting old.

How was I to know he was just saying he'd eliminated that pair from the selection process?

Rabbits

As in, my friend Amanda and I multiply like rabbits.

Amanda's one of my oldest friends. I have a few whom I've known longer (especially thanks to Facebook), but not many. She was my first friend when I moved to Texas at the dramatic age of 12. They lived two doors down and were totally awesome because they had a Nintendo and a trampoline. Somehow, someway, we managed to weather middle school (please, never again!) and high school.

Eventually, we each had babies. My two oldest children are about 6 weeks apart in age from her two oldest children. Just like our fourth, her fourth is adopted, too. And just like us, she keeps acquiring children along the way.

The Couch Photo Tradition started out as this in 1999:

(l-r) Elisabeth, Hannah, Andrea, Tyler

How sweet! We were so little and few in number then! I know there are a bunch of pictures demonstrating the evolution in between these 2 pics; however, I'm moving people, so you're lucky to get even one pre-pic. Now, the tradition is a little more ... complicated in 2009:

(on the couch) Tyler, Caleb, Elisabeth, Amanda's borrowed baby #1, Andrea, Amanda's borrowed baby #2, and Rex
(on the floor) Brooke, Rachel, Hannah, and Sariah

We were all so excited about their Easter visit, and are looking forward to many more visits. Thanks to Amanda for being a true friend and for keeping it real for me. Love ya lots!

Carnegie's

I've been waiting for Bob to run this errand for me, so I could post this pic.

So, on my next-to-last day in NYC, my brother, Chad, recommended I try out Carnegie's Deli. We'd already made plans to go eat in the Hell's Kitchen area on Sunday (we had yummy hamburgers!), so I went by myself on Monday afternoon before I flew out. I regretted not bringing my camera along for the ride.

But I told Bob he should go try it out just to see the sandwiches they serve there. He thought I was exaggerating, the bum. However, he was kind enough (thank you, thank you) to photograph his sandwich for me, just so I could share it with you all. JSKY, that's a small sandwich. When I ate there, I'm not kidding when I say I peeled about 2/3 of the meat off my sandwich, just so I could get it into my mouth.

Chad says the cheesecake there is pretty yummy, too. He wanted me to bring some home for him. But alas, Bob and I were both too full to try it out.

And they say everything is big in Texas!

Why Do Kids Have More Fun than Adults?

Because they make do with what they've got (far better than I ever do).

IMS Orchestra Concert

Hannah's end of year concert was last night. They did a fabulous job. Just keep two things in mind. First, they did a western number. And second, Hannah doesn't do pictures.

Dancing Superstars

And Sariah says, "The End."

Easter Memories

This is my Rexie-boy! Always ready for the camera. No one else was in camera-ready condition while they were looking at their baskets. And they were all too quick during the egg hunt.
Sariah was very concerned about the eggs the Easter Bunny left scattered about our living room. "Eggs, eggs! Oh no! Get da eggs!"

We had to make her look in her basket, where she found ... yep, you guessed it! More eggs!

Thunder! Lightening!

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Scared

Write about something that scared you as a child.


This is ironically appropriate tonight, given that a thunderstorm has just rolled into Norman.

As a child, I was terrified of lightening and thunder. I grew up in Tucson, and my mid-August birthday was during "monsoon season." It stormed a lot during that time of year. Lightening often streaked earthward in crazy displays of light, and was almost always followed by loud cracks! of thunder. I could never decide whether I hated the thunder more, because it was loud and sudden, or the lightening more, because it always preceded the crashes of thunder.

I hid under my bed, trembling, on occasion during the storms. I could sit, absolutely paralyzed by fear, in our darkened living room for hours at a time. When the thunder came in the middle of the night, I could find no voice to call my mother, but remained scrunched up under my sheets waiting for the cacophony to pass. And I remember making my mother nuts with my anxieties (oh dear! what goes around certainly comes around!).

How interesting that I can recall my Grandma Scarbrough, my mother's mother, and all the attempts she made to lessen my fear. My small son, Caleb, lays on the couch asleep as I write. He couldn't bring himself to sleep in his own bed when the wind began to blow. My mother, Pat, and my dear friend, Lorna, also a grandmother, spent last week trying to convince Caleb of all the reasons he need not be afraid of storms. Granted, living in Tornado Alley, instead of the Sonoran Desert, gives rise to even more fear than mere thunder and lightening. I suppose a tornado is indeed a scary thing. At 8, the same age as Caleb, I was scared silly of the little dust devils we got in Arizona, small swirling cyclones of dust and dirt, and especially petrifying to me when they picked up thorny tumbleweeds. As I think about it, those dust devils were akin to tiny tornadoes. No wonder my little son is so scared!

However, I can suddenly recall with clarity that it was my own grandmother, and not my mother, who tried most to convince me of the very same things. And all to no avail! Describing thunder as the angels moving their furniture was a cute idea, but didn't soothe my fears. Neither did counting the seconds between lightening strikes and the thunder's boom. I wasn't afraid of the damage the lightening could do; I was afraid of the unpredictable and resonating boom. Maybe it would have been more helpful for me to know how many seconds to count before the boom came?

Over time, and in minute increments, I simply outgrew my fear. Or, rather, I coped with it better.

Thunder and lightening here in Norman, Oklahoma, are a little different. Usually, the thunder rolls, true to Garth Brooks. The lightening rolls, too. It seems far less likely for you to see lightening strike straight downward. Usually what I see is the lightening reflecting in rippling patches across the clouds in the sky as a front presses forward. I love that. It's gorgeous. And I love the soul-satisfying rumbling of the thunder.

But.... We still get big cracks of thunder from time to time. And if I'm in bed with my husband, I curl up as close to him as I can, and I squeeze my eyes shut, and I cover my ears.

I guess I haven't really outgrown it after all.

Indoor Soccer Season

We just finished a round of indoor soccer for Rex, Caleb and Elisabeth. I think they had great fun. They were all really tough. Rex got to play goalie a lot. Elisabeth and Caleb were on the same team, and they were both go-getters with the ball. I was extremely proud of all of them!

Change

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Change

If you could change one thing you did in the last 24 hours, what would it be?


Oh, let me count the ways....

My regrets always involve how I have treated other people, which is the chief occupation of my time, so if I dwell on them, I live with a lot of regrets. How depressing!

First, I would have made more of an effort to plan my day better so that I could go see three of my children square dance at school for the Land Run celebrations.

Second, I would have tried to handle the way I told my husband about Caleb's problems differently, to make sure we were on the same page with what our desired end result is.

And third, I would have not held the grudge against my poor husband so long, so that we could have enjoyed learning the fox trot for the Stake Dance Festival more.

Tracy's Top Ten: NYC Edition (give or take a few)

In no particular order...

Rockefeller Center, all of it.
And especially the little chocolate shop
that's just off to the left of these fountains.
Oh yeah, and the bakery I found on the last day.
NO, there is NOT a theme here!

Seeing the city lights from up high
(even though I'm afraid of heights and it was really cold).

Macy's Flower Extravaganza, or whatever the freak it was called.
See! That's me under that flamingo constructed entirely of flowers.
It smelled so good in there!

Bryant Park.
Oh, how I was itching to go sit on a bench and read in the sunshine!

The totally insane toy stores, F.A.O. Schwartz here.
Darth Vader is made almost entirely of Legos.
In Toys R Us on Times Square, they have a Ferris wheel.
Yes, inside.

Getting on the U.S.S. Intrepid.
I know, I'm weird.
I'm a girl, and I like military vehicles.
And military war stories, too.

The subways--I loved 'em.
And I loved walking everywhere between subway stops.
Bob and I made a man on the subway laugh at us.
We were taking pictures of each other.
We do that.
Make people laugh, that is.

Seeing the building where all those Law & Order shows are made,
or scenes from them anyway.
Not that I watch them anymore.
But it was still really cool. :)

Watching Bob sleep in Central Park.
I wanted to sleep, too.
But I wanted to talk to my Mommy on the phone more.

The bridges. All of them.
Walking up the Brooklyn Bridge was one of my last-minute harebrained ideas.
I ate a really big lunch afterward at this great place in Chinatown.
I don't know why the bridges fascinate me so much, but they do.
Maybe I should have majored in bridges....

It's still spring in NYC right now!
Tulips, daffodils, trees in bloom, oh my!

The graveyards fascinated me, too.
They always have, but especially the NYC ones.
This was a little bitty church yard.
I liked the ones that had humongous monuments piled on top of each other.
That was cool!

Being with my honey at really cool places.

And of course, coming home at last,
to my babies, and my mommy,
and knowing my honey's coming at the end of the week.

The View from Up Here

This was the view from our room on Saturday night. We were on the 11th floor in a hotel across the East River from Manhattan. Isn't it gorgeous? I didn't do anything to this picture but crop the bottom and blur out a nasty neon sign from the building next door.

Now you want to ask me what Bob did to get this picture.

Oh, I'm so glad you asked. Did you know that apparently hotel rooms in Queens on the 11th floor have windows that open. Nice. There aren't any screens on them. Nice. They're really hard to close. Bob got up in the window sill to close it. Have I mentioned that I don't like heights?

All in all, though, the picture was worth my husband risking life and limb. {Eyeroll}

Tobacco

Today's Writing Prompt: Smell

Write about a memory you have that centers around a particular smell.

Whenever I walk past a tobacco shop in the mall, I stop and inhale deeply. I’m not into smoking; I’m not into cigarettes or stinky cigars. I am, after all, a product of the Just-Say-No Generation. But I do like the smell of smoking tobacco.

When I was small, preschool age at most, my daddy smoked tobacco pipes. I was young enough that I have no memories of him actually using a pipe. However, the smell of tobacco always reminds me of him and of those glorious days of innocence and trust and magic, when all the world was always still good and beautiful.

My family had a set of bookshelves when I was young, and there was a cabinet in the middle of them that opened into a sort of small writing desk. We never actually used it as a desk, but that’s where Daddy’s pipes were stored on their wood and green velvet rack. I loved opening that door on its reluctant hinges because the faint perfume of the tobacco wafted out.

Then, as if I didn’t have my dad on a high enough pedestal yet, when I was maybe 6, I got stung by a bee, and I remember how wonderful it felt to have some of that tobacco patted all over the sting. Mostly, though, I remember how wonderful I thought–and still do—my daddy was!

Thanks to The One-Minute Writer for this prompt.

In Honor of Sariah

I was missing Sariah so much that on my first solo afternoon in NYC, I decided to pay tribute to her love of quackies by taking a NYC Duck Bus-Boat Tour. Crazy, I know. I'm certainly not a very refined tourist. Bob's work friends think I could have at least picked a Screamer, whatever that is. But no, the quacker it is for Tracy. It started out as a bus, but then became a boat. The middle of the tour was the Aqua-Theater, where they showed us a little film about NYC while they washed off the bottom of the bus, so it could be an environmentally safe boat (the company got sued by some environmentalists a few years back for putting nasty city buses unwashed into the Hudson River; I did think the guide's point that when it rains all the nasty city bus stuff washes into the Hudson River anyway was a valid point, too).
I think my tour guide felt sorry for me because I was apparently all alone in NYC. Of course, I wasn't. Bob was just at work. And I kind of liked wandering around without anybody to get in the way of all my harebrained ideas. Anyhow, the tour guide really liked having me pose for pictures. It was worse than going to a professional photographer.

I was especially impressed when the guide sang "Oklahoma" for me (that was the only line he knew), and then nicknamed me Oklahoma, and then let me drive the Duck Bus-Boat. I even got a certificate for being a Jr. Captain, appropriately made out to "Oklahoma."