Song of the day: Been To Canaan - Carole King

"Been so long, I can't remember when
I've been to Canaan and I want to go back again
Been so long, I'm living till then
'Cause I've been to Canaan and I won't rest until I go back again" - Carole King

I didn't finish viewing the show that my husband had recorded for me to see on yesterday. I am still not quite ready for the rest of it. Perhaps tonight.

Yesterday, when I went to pick up "The Boy" from school, I found him chattering away with his once (still?) estranged friend. After observing them for a while, I came to realize that it was a one-way conversation and that he was the only participant. She basically ignored him and pretended to whistle while he chattered on. Their soap opera continues.

This morning, I was able to sleep in a little later. (Until 7:30am). Today was sunny, but quite chilly. At least it wasn't raining. When I got up, I made waffles and eggs for both of the guys. They appeared to appreciate the effort. However, this is something that I am assuming because neither one of them said "Thank You". Can't you tell that I'm in a funky mood? This was not the way I planned on feeling today.

"Though I'm content with myself
Sometimes I long to be somewhere else"

"The Boy" was off from school, but had conveniently left his homework assignment for today in his classroom desk drawer. However, it was a teacher's work day; so I knew that someone would be in the office. Can you guess what I did? Yep, "The Boy" and I got into the car and stopped by school before going anywhere else. I went directly to the Principal's office and asked if I could go to his classroom to retrieve his text book. After obtaining her permission, I slapped on one of those adhesive visitor's passes and we both walked down to meet his teacher. The Principal had called ahead, so his teacher was there, ready and waiting for us.

"The Boy" ran immediately to his desk and retrieved the materials that he needed. As she and I chatted, he kept his eyes riveted on us; hanging on to every word. He was listening out for his name. Who else would we be talking about? I asked him if he could step outside for a few seconds and play while I spoke to her. He did so, quickly and without complaining. She and I spoke briefly about our concerns and finally came to an agreement to change his classroom seating arrangement so that he could be free of distractions. It wasn't a planned meeting, but I'm glad we had a chance to touch base.

Afterwards, he and I went to the Dollar General store and purchased a load of junk food, and then it was on to the library... and then on to another stop before going over to Mom and Dad's. They are going out tonight, and my husband needed the car this evening, so we only got to stay for a few minutes. "The Boy" was a bit disappointed, but that's how life goes sometimes. (I'm still in a funky mood)

We came home, did homework and other miscellaneous stuff. No calls and no emails from any prospective employers today. In the meantime, a dirty little ice cream truck passed through the neighborhood. My son heard the off key tune (it sounded somewhat like a bird in pain) and asked what it was.

La Cucaracha...

As the ice cream truck passed through our neighborhood, that was the tune it was playing. I don't speak much Spanish, but I do know that La Cucaracha (The Cockroach) is not the best choice of a tune for an ice cream truck; especially a dirty one! And no, we are not buying any "salmonella-on-a-stick" today. We have plenty of ice cream in the freezer.

"I try to do what I can
But with our day-to-day demands
We all need a promised land"

"Back in the day", when I was younger; ice cream vendors had more pride. Especially the Good Humor ice cream vendors. They dressed smartly in clean, crisp, white jackets, with sharp caps and wore little black bow ties. They served ice cream from spotless freezers and "Pop Goes the Weasel" was the tune. Not this one. Eventually the excitement was over, and pretty soon the dirty and raggedy looking ice cream truck left the neighborhood. To be honest, I'm not sure how he got past our neighborhood association. Around here, they are pretty rabid.

"And it's been so long, I can't remember when
I've been to Canaan and I want to go back again"

Another day over and tomorrow is the first day of May. Time is passing quickly and I am again in need of inspiration. This too shall pass. Probably now is the best time to finish the video I started looking at yesterday. (I am still in a funky mood) It will get better.

Been so long, I'm living till then
'Cause I've been to Canaan and I won't rest until I go back again"

Song of the day: Everything - Michael Bublé

"You're a falling star, You're the get away car.
You're the line in the sand when I go too far.
You're the swimming pool, on an August day.
And you're the perfect thing to say" - Michael Bublé.

Last night proved to be quite nice for our family. We went out, came back and had a fairly decent family discussion. No disagreements, no friction. I always like to have those. This way, each one knows where the other is "coming from".

This morning, my husband asked me to drive the van to take "The Boy" to school. He had wanted to fill up the primary car, so we decided to switch off. To those reading this, the exchange seems easy enough. What you don't know is this: When I drive the van, backing up, I tend to miss the driveway by a few feet and roll on to the grass. While this was fine during this past winter; it no longer is acceptable now that my husband has planted grass seed. And oh, no...not just any kind of grass seed. This would be Scott's Premium Gold grass seed, mind you.

"And you play it coy, but it's kinda cute.
Ah, When you smile at me you know exactly what you do.
Baby don't pretend, that you don't know it's true.
Cause you can see it when I look at you"

Now, it's OK if I back up and take out the mailbox and lamp post, but for goodness sakes, please don't let me back up on the newly sown Scott's Premium Gold grass. It's not something that I would intentionally do, but it does put the pressure on when the windows are fogged up and I am unable to see while I'm backing out.

Time to go to school in a few minutes... "The Boy" barrages me with a series of questions. "How come we gotta drive the van?", "What's wrong with the car?", "Did Dad tell you that you could drive it?" This last question "ruffled my feathers" a bit, but I ignored him. We finally get into the van. My husband has pushed down the two rear passenger seats and I don't feel like pulling them back up again; so I ask the child to get into the front passenger seat. He proceeds to give me a lecture on how unsafe it is for children to sit in the front seat and how I was breaking the law and asked me if I wanted to get him killed when the air bag inflates. (At this point I want to tell him that if he keeps talking, he won't need to worry about the air bag and that I know of a more efficient way to get the job done)

"You're a mystery, you're from outer space,
You're every minute of my everyday."

I then tell him to get his butt into the car. He corrects me and tells me that it is not a "car" but a "van"....you say "potato" and I say...Now, I think you get the picture. At age eight, his "cute" coupons have just about expired. What was previously thought to be funny over his last few younger years, is now beginning to wear thin.

We get to school and he thanks me for not getting him killed and then tells me that I could have gone to jail for what I did. I then ask him, "If I go to jail, who will buy your candy bars?" He nonchalantly replies, "Dad will". Time for me to take a blood pressure reading. We go back and forth discussing what would happen to him during my proposed incarceration. He finally agrees with me that my being in prison would not be to his advantage; and so abruptly discontinues the conversation.

Mercifully, I am officially done with him until 2:00pm this afternoon.
He has no classes tomorrow, due to a "student holiday". We will again be together all day long. If all goes well, we should have fun.

I come home and find that my husband has recorded a television program that he wants me to look at. It was all about finding one's passion and working towards fulfilling it, and how it is all out there in the Universe just waiting to be claimed. I looked at part of the program, but turned it off midway through, in the hopes of perhaps continuing it tonight. It "hit home" a little too closely for me to feel comfortable with sitting through the entire program all at once.

One thing is certain: I believe this. Although I will watch the show, I really don't need to watch any television program to tell me what I need to do. There are certain things that have happened to me recently that can not be simply chalked up to chance. Nothing mystical or mysterious; just an old fashioned "awakening".

A passion is something that makes you feel comfortable and is something that you can easily defend despite any naysayers. I already know what my passions are and I have made baby steps towards addressing them. Lord knows, it has taken me long enough. The doors that have seemingly been closed to me are simply messages saying: "You don't belong here, and you are too stupid to know it; so let me help you". This is now becoming almost crystal clear.

Whew!! This self-therapy is something else. I owe myself three hundred dollars.

"And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, You make me sing.
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything".

Thank you for coming to my session.

"So, La, La, La, La, La, La, La
So, La, La, La, La, La, La, La"

Song of the day: Both Sides Now - Judy Collins

"I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all" - Judy Collins

Can you believe it? It's Monday again. And yes, this morning it rained. Yet, somehow, I still managed to get "The Boy" up bright and early. While he pretended to still be asleep, I tickled his toes and pulled him out of bed by his ankles. He thought it was funny. After getting him ready for school, and since "The Boy" considers me to be a "lightweight" when it comes to discussing anything of a serious nature with him, (I'm the "fun" parent), I asked my husband to talk to him about last Friday's unpleasant "run in" he had with his good friend. However, I did this with a bit of hesitation. My husband and I have very different parenting styles. While I am calm, he can be very demonstrative, arms waving, hands flying, etc;... (it's a cultural thing) and I could see that he was gearing up to give the child a stern sermon. However, the chances of the sermon taking on a threatening tone lessened considerably when I pulled out another one of my secret weapons...

My new ten magic words: "Don't say something that will make me blog about you"

These words work miracles when combined with him watching my finger hover precariously over the keyboard's "enter" button

"Tears and fears and feeling proud, to say, "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way"

After some thoughtful consideration, and then realizing how seriously quick I can be to click on "publish post", my husband then calmly told "The Boy" to leave his friend alone for a while, not to harrass her and that if he heard anything more concerning this type of nonsense, there would be consequences. "The Boy" paused for a moment and then started reciting the "make new friends but keep the old..." creed. Yep, you've got it! It is the very same creed he rejected when I tried to use it in my failed attempt to reason with him on Friday afternoon. Suddenly "gold" friends were back in style again.

See, it's this kind of thing that helps to fuel my hot flashes. I rolled my eyes heavenward and then walked away; deciding to stay out of the conversation altogether and let both men work it out between themselves.

"But now old friends are acting strange they shake their heads, they say
I've changed
But something's lost but something's gained in living every day"

Because of the aforementioned drama, we arrived at school a little bit later than we normally do. To tell you the truth, I hardly remember the actual drive in. I decided not to stress over it and basically drove in on autopilot. The only thing that I could clearly recall was that "What A Fool Believes" by the Doobie Brothers was playing on the radio. After that, it all became a blur. Rain, windshield wipers, people and traffic lights all blended into one. Because we were a bit late, most of the buses had already departed, so I didn't get to do my usual "walk 'n wave" back to the car. It was your basic drop off and leave package.

"I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow..."

This afternoon, when I went to pick him up, big fat raindrops were falling. I did not bother to bring an umbrella...too cumbersome. After being escorted out of the cafeteria and into the car, "The Boy" excitedly announced to me that he and xx xxxxxxx had made up and were friends again. It was my understanding that the original agreement between him and his father stated that he was not to speak to her at all for a while. Let's see how long this lasts.

The big fat raindrops are still coming down and we have finished homework. In between books and banter, I have also managed to complete the prep work for tonight's dinner. I am ahead of the game; and for now all is well in Nardsville.

...and "The Boy" gets the chocolate bar.

Hope you have a great afternoon!

"It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all"

Song of the day: Our House - Crosby Stills & Nash

"I'll light the fire
You place the flowers in the vase
That you bought today"- Crosby Stills & Nash

Saturday morning "The Boy" and his Dad went out together...just the two of them. Yee haw!!! At last... a few hours to myself!! I had three bathrooms to clean and was able to accomplish this, all by myself... in record time. It is extremely difficult to clean up when "those people" are at home. Our internet service was down, so I had no excuse to postpone my cleaning plans. I had visions, in my mind, of them being gone longer than they had. They came back home much sooner than I had expected. However, I was still grateful for the extra time that I had alone without having to repeatedly hear my name being called.

Time passed quickly. "The Boy" and his Dad arrived, with our son holding a bag that came from the local Wendy's hamburger restaurant. It seems he had charmed the server into giving him extra chicken nuggets. He came right in, plopped himself down at the kitchen counter and ate each and every one of those nuggets by himself. He did not offer me any of his lunch, nor did I ask for any, but it would have been nice for him to at least say, "Mom, please have a french fry", but he didn't. (This is one of the reasons why his chocolate bar is still hidden in the kitchen cabinet). Later on we went to the library. (can't you tell we love that place?) After the library visit, we came home and spent some quality family time together. He got a homemade burger, (ingredients in the correct order this time) as well as, salad and milk for dinner this go 'round.

(In the interest of time and other family obligations, there's a whole chunk of my day that I am leaving out right here)

Later on that night, when it was time for him to go to bed, a storm came up. Not a huge one; but there were lightning flashes and there was thunder rumbling in the background. He asked if I could stay with him for a while because he was afraid. This, mind you, is the same fearless and sassy mouthed child of earlier in the week. Surely, he could not be afraid of a little lightning and thunder. Since I am a mom and predisposed to doing "Mom things", I lay down beside him and talked to him until he finally went to sleep.

"Come to me now
And rest your head for just five minutes
Everything is good"

Sunday morning...
Well, we woke up as usual; my husband fixed breakfast for himself and "The Boy". I have somehow worked my way out of this Sunday breakfast making committment. I don't know how it came about, but it works for me. Soon, it was time to get ready for Sunday service. "The Plan", according to my husband, was to go to service and then afterwards, to the local theme park (60 miles away) afterwards. It rained, so we weren't able to go. Yay!!! We buy season tickets every year; and every year on every Sunday after service, we usually make the pilgrimage to this theme park. In the words of B.B. King...for me "The Thrill is Gone". I never ride anything and I am there only as a utility; the designated "stuff holder". Water bottles, cameras, caps...you will usually find me sitting on some bench along with the other caddies, waiting for loved ones to get off of the thrill rides.

Since the theme park idea was washed out, we decided to rent a movie. As a surprise for me, my husband checked out one of my favorite movies, "Being There", with Peter Sellers and Shirley McClain. It was his first time seeing it and it was as wonderful as I had remembered it. Afterwards, he moved on to another movie that exceeded my threshold of listening to, how do I say it?...um, "special occasion" words; so I grabbed my newspapers and headed upstairs. It finally got to be too much for him too, so he discontinued the movie and turned on regular televison.

"Our house is a very, very fine house...
...Life used to be so hard
Now everything is easy
'Cause of you"

Bottom line: This was a quiet, non-eventful Sunday. It is now time to get everything ready for the coming week. Clothes need to be laid out, meals need to be planned and phone calls need to be made. Hope everyone had a good weekend!

"I'll light the fire
And you place the flowers in the vase
That you bought today"

Song of the day: You're Gonna Miss This - Trace Adkins

"You're gonna' miss this
You're gonna' want this back
You're gonna' wish these days
Hadn't gone by so fast" - Trace Adkins

When I went to pick up "The Boy" from school yesterday, I could see that he was visibly upset. I started thinking: Oh, brother, what could it be now? Well, it seems that he and some little girl in his classroom had had a "falling out". He declared that he was not going to be xx xxxxxxx's friend any more. (If I could tell you her name, this would make a lot more sense) Some of you reading this already know it.

They have this "on again, off again" friendship that only the two of them really understand. However, what concerned me was that he has added another person into "the mix" and said that he was not going to be friends with that person either. I took the logical route; explaining to him that there were only nineteen children in his classroom; and that if he kept ditching friends at this rate, he would be completely fresh out by the end of May. I also recited to him the well known Girl Scout creed of "make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other is gold". He then told me that he was sick of gold, wanted new friends and that silver would be just fine for him.

There is no reasoning with the unreasonable, so I didn't follow him up with this discussion anymore. There goes that lesson...down the tubes! At least it happened at the end of the week. He has the rest of the weekend to cool off.

We made our usual Friday stop at the library for a few hours. "The Boy" and I had a small "whispering disagreement" while there; complete with lots of glares, nudges and "dirty looks". I'm sure we looked like WWF with the sound turned down, but we managed to resolve our differences and continued to sit side by side in the computer lab; pursuing our own separate areas of interest until our lab time was up.

Afterwards, we went to see Mom and Dad. This is one of our good Friday routines and one that we try to keep. When we got there, I instinctively knew that my mother would be out working in her garden, so we walked from the front yard, around to the back. "The Boy", ran to the back door, through it and upstairs immediately to join his beloved Papa in watching videos. I kissed Mom and remained outside with her in the garden. As I sat on a bench across from her, shooing away bugs and watching her work her magic with her vegetables; just past the lettuce and directly through the chain linked fence, I could see her deceased neighbor's yard. When I lived here, she was my neighbor too.

The once beautiful lawn, now choked with brush and a profusion of fluffy, white capped dandelions, was directly in front of me. If she were alive, she would not like this. She would not like this at all. Her red Ford Thunderbird, thickly covered with pollen, sat in the driveway. Right smack in the middle of this mess stood a rose bush, covered with lots of deep scarlet blooms. I smile to think that Mrs. xxxx would have liked that. Her funeral was yesterday.

We finally go inside. I go upstairs, kiss Dad and then walk into my brother's old room and out onto the screened porch to look out over the back yard. I want time to stand still. Not forever. Just right now. Just for a few minutes while my head catches up. I can clearly remember when my mom was thirty-eight. I can't believe that my parents are as old as they are. I can't believe Mrs. xxxx is dead. I can't believe that I'm almost 50. Most of all, I can't believe that I have allowed myself to "go there". Time to get a grip. After making the conscious effort to force myself away from this unhealthy thought pattern, I am back in control again.

"These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna' miss this"

"The Boy" and I complete our brief visit and then go home. My husband, happy to see us, is washing the van. I prepare hot dogs and a salad; followed by Cookies 'n Cream ice cream. This ice cream habit is something that we started when my niece was here. We need to stop it.

After cleaning up the kitchen, taking care of the guys and folding up laundry, it was time to take a few well deserved minutes for myself. A little reading , a little television, a few phone calls... and that will be enough for me for tonight. I am pretty much a homebody these days. I'm sure it will change once I get back to work, but for now, that's what I am. No need to put a Disneyesque "spin" on it. And for now, all is calm in my household. Friday is over. Another blessed day completed.

"You're gonna' miss this
Yeaahhhh... you're gonna' miss this..."

Song of the day: The Riddle - Five for Fighting

"Here's a riddle for you
Find the Answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I..." - Five For Fighting

As events would have it, "The Boy" did not have to bring in the garbage can yesterday. His Dad did it for him; and only because he mowed the lawn and the can would have been in his way. My husband is a "no nonsense" type of guy. Had he given it any thought, I am sure that he would have rolled it back into its place for "The Boy" to pick up when he got home.

"Picked up my kid from school today
Did you learn anything cause in the world today
You can't live in a castle far away
Now talk to me, come talk to me"

When I picked him up from school, "The Boy" asked if we could stop by the Dollar General store to purchase a "Whoo Hoo" bar (that is what he calls Hershey chocolate bars). I told him that we were not going to do that. Perhaps maybe on Friday. Suddenly, he turned into a brown version of "The Incredible Hulk" and got all puffy. He seemed about ready to explode. Then he started acting as if he were entitled to having a candy bar every day; as if it were a God-given right. To me, this meant that candy bars have now been elevated from "treat", to "necessary" status. I then decided to "nip this in the bud" and hold off from purchasing them for a while; just long enough to instill in him at least a little bit of appreciation.

So Mr. Puffy Cheeks and I headed for home, as he sat in the back seat, arms folded, lips poked out, and looking out of the side window. As far as I was concerned, he could look until his eyeballs dried out! The only way that he was going to get a candy bar today, was if it floated down from heaven and landed in his lap! It definitely was not coming from me; at least while he displayed this attitude.

"There are secrets that we still have left to find
There have been mysteries from the beginning of time
There are answers we're not wise enough to see
He said... You looking for a clue I Love You free... "

However, his face lit up when we turned into the cul-de-sac. He noticed, from afar, that the trash can had been moved. This meant that we wouldn't have to break any child labor laws to have him slave and toil to bring it back up the hill. He would only have to retrieve the mail. Suddenly, all was right in the world again and this turned out to be the great equalizer...Whatever!

His Dad had gone to Wal-Mart, and guess what he brought back for "The Boy"?...A Hershey's chocolate bar! I intercepted before he saw it and hid it behind glassware in an upper cabinet. There was NO WAY he was getting it after "showing his butt" in the car. Maybe on Friday.

Yesterday, I didn't cook dinner. My husband brought home a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and we supplemented it with a salad as well as leftovers from the fridge. "The Boy" got his report card and we went over some of things that he could do to improve. The teacher wrote that he is a master storyteller; but lacks focus. This I already know.

I also know that almost every mother thinks that their child is wonderful and witty and talented. I am no exception; and this is as it should be. But there's something about this one. Something distinctively different that I really cannot quite put my finger on. He has a power within him that will need to be harnessed and pointed in the right direction. "The Boy" is destined for great things. We will work on this together. I am proud to be the gatekeeper and guardian of this wonderful being.

"Here's a riddle for you
Find the Answer
There's a reason for the world
You and I..."

Today is Friday. Where did the week go so fast? Have a good one y'all.

Song of the day: (Theme From) Valley of the Dolls - André and Dory Previn

"Gotta get off, gonna get
Have to get off from this ride
Gotta get hold, gonna get
Need to get hold of my pride" - André and Dory Previn

Last night went fairly well. I decided to retire to bed a little bit earlier and woke up this morning, somewhat semi-refreshed. Pollen is still heavy in this part of the country and "The Boy" has had a number of allergic reactions to it. So, this morning, I told him that he would have to jump into the tub before getting ready for school, so that he could wash away any residual pollen that may have been left on him from yesterday.

In our family, we have labeled his baths according to type. It's one of those "quirky" family things we have done ever since he was a baby (every family has one or two) and he knows the routine all too well. That being said, he asked me if he needed to take a "Business Bath" (quickie shower), "Deluxe Bath" (a tub bath with bubbles), or a "Scrub Down" (his Dad helps him with this one). I told him that today's feature would be the "Business Bath". After showering, he managed to pass my inspection and was able to finish getting ready for school.

We got to school and I noticed that one of the buses was parked along the side with the hazard lights flashing, door opened and with no driver inside. I made note of the bus number and recognized it as being the bus of someone I knew well. I stood around for a while to make sure everything was OK. She soon emerged from the school a few minutes later and told me that she had taken a "powder room" break. We embraced each other while she laughed as I told her that if she hadn't appeared within five minutes, I was going to call "911", as well as our local six o'clock news team. She then thanked me for looking out for her, hugged me again, boarded her bus and drove off.

"When did I get, where did I
How was I caught in this game?
When will I know, where will I
How will I think of my name?"

Today is trash day again. I rolled the can down to the bottom of the hill and "The Boy" will bring it back up this afternoon. Since it did not go well last week, I wonder what Mr. Sassy Lips will have to say this time?

Remember the visit I had from two of our local ministers the other week? The visit where one of them offered to put me in touch with one of his contacts? He had asked if I were willing to step outside of my "comfort zone". I had never really thought about it until then. Well, one of his contacts called me this morning and asked about my availability. It appears that she is building a team. The job that she has in mind is not in my particular area of expertise but she asked if I would be willing to give it a try. I told her that I am a creative person and feel that I could handle the challenge. After consulting with a few of her colleagues, she will get back to me. At this time, I will make no further comment; and will leave the rest in God's hands.

"When did I stop feeling sure, feeling safe
And start wondering why, wondering why?
Is this a dream, am I here, where are you
What's in back of the sky, why do we cry?"

Today is sunny and bright and I will do my best to make the most of it. I wish the same for you too. Onward I go...

"Tell me, when will I know, how will I know
When will I know why?..."

Song of the day: I Understand - Smokie Norful

"One more day, one more step
I'm preparing you for myself
When you can't hear my voice, please trust my plan
I am the Lord I see, and yes I understand" - Smokie Norful

Yesterday afternoon after picking up "The Boy", we went to my parents' house. I was exhausted. I have never been a huge sleeper, but now I hardly sleep at all during the night and it is beginning to take its toll on me.

"I feel like I 've done all that I can do
Please Lord give me strength, I'm just trying to make it through"

We talked for a while. Mom asked us if we would like to stay for dinner. I spoke in behalf of "The Boy" and declined for us both. She and Dad do not eat much, so I know that they usually fix just enough food for the two of them. Besides, "The Boy" and I had already had our fill of Hershey bars and Laffy Taffy before we came. I sat at the dining room table with them and we continued talking. After a while, I started getting sleepy and began to doze off. Mom asked me if I wanted to go out on the sun porch and take a short nap. I took her up on her offer and lay down on the couch. The next thing I knew, she was standing over me, telling me that she and Dad were about to go out, and that we could stay a while if we wanted. I declined.

It was getting late; so "The Boy" and I gathered our belongings and left for home. My husband had gone out. We were supposed to go with him, but missed out because of staying too late at Mom and Dad's. He was not happy when he came back home; and there was a "chill" in the air between us for the rest of the evening. These things happen. We finally "got over it", but I do hate it when any kind of unpleasantness occurs.

"He knows how much we can bear
In the time of trouble He promised He'd always be there
I understand, I understand, I am the Lord I see and yes I understand"

This morning, every thing began again "shiny and new". A new canvass on which to paint a new day. Since I was feeling a bit "down in the dumps", I needed another heart to heart with God. So I decided to take a longer shower and put on some of my best scents (Vera Wang); starting with body wash, then going to lotion and finishing off with a dab of perfume. This kind of treatment always seems to make me feel better. Besides, I think God would approve.

I got dressed and grabbed my canvass bag with water, notebooks etc; and headed out with "The Boy" to school. On the way, he finished telling me his story that he had started on yesterday. Actually, the revised version turned out to be quite listenable. After dropping him off, I purchased a few small snacks and went to the library. I was early, so I remained in the parking lot until it opened. Although I have a computer at home, I sometimes need a change of scenery. I don't really feel like hanging out with anyone, so the library fits the bill just fine.

"I am the Lord and I changeth not
I won't forget nor have I forgot..."

Before I knew it, it was time to pick him up from school. For some reason, I decided to pick him up a little earlier. I was not feeling very well and so not quite up to the challenge of chatting with all of the parents while waiting for the dismissal bell to ring. He finally came down the walkway towards me, rubbing his eyes. The pollen had just about taken him over; so we came home and I had him take a shower. After the shower, homework and having something to eat, he was happy.

I have prepared pork chops and a salad for tonight's dinner. My husband is taking a nap and I am terribly exhausted; and so, without further adieu, I am ending this blog entry for the evening. I will pick up tomorrow where I left off.

Goodnight y'all

"When you can't hear my voice, please trust my plan
I am the Lord I see, and yes I understand"

Song of the day: I Think It's Going to Rain Today - Randy Newman

"Broken windows and empty hallways
A pale dead moon in the sky streaked with gray
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today" - Randy Newman

...and the rain continues...
This morning "The Boy" and I drove to school with the radio off. He asked if he could tell me a story. I was hesitant at first, but I finally agreed. You've got to hear some of these stories to understand exactly where I'm coming from...Today's story was basically a bunch of nonsensical sentences strewn together "on the fly". I believe that its sole purpose was to get my attention. However, what "The Boy" doesn't realize, is that I am the "Master" of doing more than two things at once. I can feign paying attention and easily be "somewhere else" at the same time. This is the way it was this morning. I needed a few moments for myself; just a few uncaffeinated moments to get my thoughts together. Like a "Stepford wife", I am getting sucked into a mindless routine again and I am not liking it. The coffee will come later.

I let him ramble on and on, but in between his ramblings, I looked around while driving and noticed just how beautiful the leaves and flowers are. Our drive to school is spectacular! Flowers and trees (as well as pollen) everywhere. As "The Boy" continued spinning his wild tale, every now and then I would interject an "uh-huh", or an intermittent "is that so?"... just to let him know that I was "there". It's not that I was being inattentive. There will be plenty of time to hear the "new and improved" version of this tale this afternoon on the way home from school.

We finally get to school and, as usual, I park on the opposite side of the street. We share a purple flowered umbrella as I grasp his hand. I am the one who looks both ways as we cross. He is too busy stepping in puddles and chattering on and on, so he doesn't bother to look around for any oncoming traffic. And why should he? This boy trusts me and walks across the street on blind faith; knowing that I will get him to his destination safely. I squeeze his hand a little tighter as we walk; realizing that one day he is going to tell me that he doesn't want me to hold his hand anymore. This is another one of those "Mommy" moments that left me feeling misty-eyed; and one that I didn't see coming.

Each day as we arrive at school, we are treated like elementary school royalty; exchanging greetings with teachers, parents and children alike. The affection we have for and show to each other is genuine. While on the streets, dozens of bright yellow school buses go by. "The Boy" and I are recognized by most and wave to the drivers as they smile and honk their horns back at us. He and I come as a set and since I've been out of work, hardly ever is one of us seen without the other. We make quite a pair and are pretty much well known all over town. While this little arrangement is nice and comfy, I need a bit more. I don't want to fall into the type of "sameness" that eats away at a life one day at a time. I feel just about ready for something absolutely grand and know that it is "just around the corner". I believe that I am finally beginning to "get it"; but need to show more gratitude for the present; and enjoy living in the moment. The other stuff will come in its own due time. My life's message will not come via Express mail. It will be hand carried and hand delivered; and it will be a message designed and made especially for me. No one else has to "get it"; just as long as I do, everything will be fine. With this in mind, I think I can wait a little bit longer.

"Bright before me the signs implore me
To help the needy and show them the way"

I'll be picking up "The Boy" this afternoon and then dropping by my parents' house for a quick visit. I made a few business contacts this morning but I am still moving on with my personal plans and with my life. I am not going to stand by the phone and wait for them to get back to me, like some jilted "prom date". The rest of the day for me has yet to be written out. There is so much more...

"Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today"

Song of the day: You Don't Mess Around With Jim - Jim Croce

"And they say you don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off the 'ole Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim" - Jim Croce

This morning the nasty, rainy weather continued. Actually, I enjoyed it. The sound of it was comforting and almost caused me to oversleep. I got "The Boy" ready and we got to school just moments before the bell rang. I really hate cutting it that close, but sometimes it just happens that way. Part of the reason we were late was due to the recently attained "sacred" status of the car since my husband washed it on Saturday. He watched from the garage door as his unworthy wife and son got in and drove away. I actually had the nerve to bring a travel cup of coffee with me. However, I made absolutely sure that none of the "unholy" liquid would spill onto the luxuriously plush interior. In another week or so, everything will be back to normal, but for now, we have to watch our P's and Q's; or at least until the car gets dirty again.

As soon as I got back from taking "The Boy" to school, Mom called. It seems she has accelerated her efforts in getting the problems she has been having with her former dentist resolved. From the way it looks, this particular dentist is headed for some serious trouble. Judgements, excessive charges, delinquencies...you name it, she has done it. Mom had already submitted a complaint, but the State Dental Board has requested that she give them the actual dates when the reported offenses occurred. After reviewing her charges, Mom discovered that she had been double billed in some cases and in others, she had been charged for work that had not been done. She is now demanding a refund and wanted me to help her.

She came over and we went upstairs to my office. She sat on the floor and sorted through her documentation, while I played "scribe" and drafted more letters. Determined to make sure that this doesn't happen to anyone else again, she has made it her mission to get this resolved. What should have taken us only twenty minutes to do, really turned out to be three hours. It was her commentary in between that made it take so long. She got madder with each sentence and re-lived each and every incident. We crafted and recrafted letters, included dates and times; revised dates and times; took them out and added them back in again. Should we say: "Dear" Dr. XXXX or not? No, we're not going to say "Dear"...there was nothing "Dear" about how she handled my case...etc; Should we copy so and so on this? Why did you put that into the letter? That's not what I said...etc;

"And last week he took all my money, and it may sound funny
But I've come to get my money back
Now everybody stand back, ooh don't you know"

Finally, it was time to pick "The Boy" up from school, and here I am, still working with Mom on her problem. What should I do now? Do Mom and I both go to pick him up? or should I leave her here until I come back?

It just so happens that my husband is home on Mondays, so everything really worked out well. It was getting late. He sensed my panic; and offered to go pick "The Boy" up, while I continued working with Mom. We finally finished and Mom took off for home shortly thereafter.

The day had not turned out as I had planned. This is not the way my Monday should have gone. I made no calls and I made no employment contacts; but I realize now that sometimes you have to adjust your plans to accommodate more important things. The important thing today, was helping my Mom. I guess that I will just have to make up the time tomorrow.

"Now they say you don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off an 'ole Lone Ranger..."

While my husband helped "The Boy" with his homework, I fixed buffalo chicken wings and a tossed salad for dinner. And if I must say so myself, dinner was quite the "hit" of the day. Mom called to thank me for helping her and I told her that I was happy to do so. She feels empowered, and now with all of her information together, she is ready to address the Dental Board if, and when they should call her. I sure hope tomorrow turns out better for me. I could really use a little "help" myself.

"And you don't mess around with ...Mom."

Song of the day: The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) - Simon and Garfunkel

"Slow down, you move too fast
You've got to make the morning last
Just kickin' down the cobble stones
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy!" - Simon & Garfunkel

Despite what you are about to read; Saturday, in general went well. "The Boy" and his Dad spent a bit of "bonding" time in the driveway washing the cars. We have a "fleet" of three vehicles (one van and two automobiles). One of the cars is on life support and does not require any "special" kind of attention, so they elected to wash the two "good" vehicles. This, however, did not go well between the two of them and the "bonding" session was short-lived.

From inside the house; and from within my kitchen, I hear raised voices and admonitions of "Don't do that!", "This is not what I asked you to bring me!", and finally, "Go back inside the house and see what your mother is doing!". "The Boy" comes in and zooms past me, faster than the speed of lightning! Of the two of us, he is appearing to be the smartest one. This is not looking good.

When I, aka "Dummy Me", finally peek my head out of the door and through the garage, to see what is going on, this now puts me into the line of fire.

Please keep the following in mind as you read on: The acoustics in my neighborhood are flawless. So good, that you can almost hear each ant as it crawls on every tree.

And now, back to the story:

My husband, who is now vaccuuming the vehicle interiors, then shouts out to me: "I don't know how you and "The Boy" make such a mess in the car! There are potato chips, crumbs and all kinds of...." I suddenly go semi-deaf and can only hear: blah, blah, blah,... (Sort of like that sound Charlie Brown's teacher makes when she speaks). I go back in and shut the door behind me. I cease from being a target. I don't need to hear this from him. And surely the neighbors didn't need to either.

"Hello, lamp post, whatcha knowing?
I've come to watch your flowers growing
Ain't ya got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo-doo, feelin' groovy!"

"The Boy" does not make a reliable assistant. He starts out OK, but then disappears, never to be seen or heard from again; unless it is for something he wants. He soon abandons his father and chooses to harass me as I go about my business of cleaning up. He wants ice cream; he wants chips; he wants to work on the computer; he wants...

"Mom, can I...?" this and "Mom can I?..." that. In my frustration, I say "yes" to just about every request! Boy, just let me finish doing my work! (He knows how to wear me down) We finally got through the day. I cooked fish and we had a salad. Afterwards, we did a few family things.

Later on that night, my sister called to give me the "scoop" on the wedding. She had a nice time. There is a lot of underlying information to go along with this, but most of it is not my story to tell. It's juicy, but you'll just have to ask her yourself.

It is now Sunday morning and I have chosen to play the hedonist. Outside, it is raining "cats and dogs". I have a slight headache and my sinuses are bothering me, so my husband went off to Sunday service alone, leaving "The Boy" and myself at home together, to continue turning "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" into an art form. He, pursuing the pleasures of cartoons, and I, enjoying the life and liberty of sitting around in my ugly green nightgown, perusing Sunday newspapers and drinking multiple cups of coffee. One of the best dismal mornings I have had in a long time. Hope your Sunday is grand!

"...Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!"

Song of the day: Come Saturday Morning - The Sandpipers

"Come Saturday morning
I'm goin' away with my friend
We'll Saturday-spend till the end of the day
Just I and my friend
We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles"- The Sandpipers

Friday was absolutely beautiful! The sun was shining and it got up to 85 degrees. This kind of weather puts me and "The Boy" into an automatic good mood. We had a great morning and after school we went to the library and then it was off to my Mom and Dad's. When we got there, Dad told us that Mom had gone out with a few of her girlfriends to a "Womens' Expo" and would be back later.

So..."The Boy" and I visited with Dad for a while. He really enjoyed our company. I think that sometimes he likes it when it's just us and him. You see, Daddy is very quiet and subdued. Mom is not. This way he can get to talk to just the two of us without worrying about Mom hijacking the conversation. My Mom is a "live" one and can really take over a conversation and commandeer a room. I say this with love.

Just as we were about to take our leave, Mom appears, bearing a huge shopping bag filled with samples, pamphlets and coupons. In other words: junk. "The Boy", completely forgetting his manners and before even saying "Hello" to Nana, zeroes in on the bag like a heat seeking missile and immediately asks Mom: "Whatcha got?" and "Is there anything in there for me?" I don't really endorse this type of behavior but Mom lets him get away with it. She starts pulling things out of the bag. "The Boy" inspects each item and decides whether or not any of them could be of any use to him. He selects three sample bottles of flavored soy milk and a folding fan. We chat for a while and then decide that it is time to go home. "The Boy" and I head toward the door and Mom walks us out. Dad says his goodbyes to us and then goes back in.

"And then we'll move on
But we will remember long after Saturday's gone"

While walking out, we notice a flurry of activity going on at the house next door. We see the grandson of the lady who lived next door and his wife coming out and we greet each other. Something in his face tells me that this is not the usual "hello". He then tells us that his grandmother died last night. She was in her early eighties. She had been living with and was being taken care of by her daughter who lives about a hundred or so miles away. The house was vacant and they had driven down to check on things. Mom's face went ashen. I know what she was thinking. It seems that everyone around them is passing away.

"The Boy", totally oblivious to everything, quietly kicked around in the dirt while plucking leaves off of a nearby bush. I forget how it feels to be a young immortal; not having a care in the world; always in expectation of good things and greeting sunshine at every corner. Had I known just how serious life would eventually become, I can not help but wonder if I should have kicked more dirt and plucked a few more leaves myself.

They spoke of her niceness; and what a good person she was. They repeatedly said that she led a "full" life. I have problems with that phrase: a "full" life. I also have issues coming up with the criteria for, as well as the exact description of, what a "full" life is. Who decides what "full" is? And what happens if you want more than "full"? Just a point for me to ponder.

"We'll Saturday-laugh more than half of the day
Just I and my friend
Dressed up in our rings and our Saturday things"

After offering our condolences, "The Boy" and I left for home. We drove home in silence. No music. No anything. It just felt like the right thing to do.

Tomorrow is Saturday. Lots of things need to be done around the house. My sister is going out of town for a wedding (can't wait to hear the details when she comes back) and "The Boy" and I plan to do our usual weekend hanging out again. And just maybe we'll kick up some dirt and pluck a few leaves...together.

"And then we'll move on
But we will remember long after Saturday's gone"

Song of the day: You Can't Always Get What You Want - Mick Jagger and Keith Richards

"You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want..." - Keith Richards /Mick Jagger

Today, "The Boy" got up and dressed for school in slow motion. I guess we all have those days; but I tell him that it is an indulgence that we are unable to afford when we are on a tight schedule and short on time. But then again, why should he have to worry? Mom always gets him to school on time. That's what Moms do. Oh well, this is another instance where I need to learn how to pick my battles.

Thursday is trash day. This fact alone subtracts at least ten minutes from our usual "get ready" time. In the name of efficiency, the county in which we live has issued each resident a new garbage can. They are huge containers on wheels that require a bit of manuevering to get them to the curb and back up again. On Thursday mornings, it is my responsibility to gather up all of the trash strewn throughout the house, place it in the container and roll the container out. The trash guys are usually late, so I usually am in no hurry to get our trash out and down to the bottom of the hill. However, since today was the first day for pickup with the new cans, I expected a bit of overzealousness on their part. I also expected that they would be either early or on time. I was correct; they were early and I was glad that I got the trash out early.

"You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want"

It is "The Boy"'s responsibility to check the mailbox every afternoon after school. On Thursdays this also includes bringing in the emptied trash can(s) as well. As I mentioned before, we live on a hill and our driveway is also on an incline. The last time I checked, it showed no sign of flattening out any time soon. To him, asking that he bring up the trash can is tantamount to child abuse.

"The Boy" has informed me that the new trash can is "too heavy"; it "hurts his arms", makes him "too tired" and is "hard to roll up the hill"...also, he "can't be expected to roll the can up the hill and bring in the mail at the same time". I beg to differ. No, I take that back...I don't have to beg at all! He's bringing it up and he's bringing it up NOW!!! He finally drags himself, the trash can and the mail up the hill. I open the gate to the back yard ; he pulls the can in and parks it in its designated space. He looks at me, expecting a "Thank You". I say not a word. It is no more than what he was supposed to do. Hmmph! Do you think MY parents would have put up with that? I think not. If his Dad had told him to do the same thing, would he have acted this way? I also think not.

We go into the house, do homework and have a snack. All is forgiven. We kiss and make up. A bowl of Cheetoes and a cold glass of milk can fix anything. We are back on track. The phone rings. I pick it up and it is a recorded message from the Principal of his elementary school. She is letting all of the parents know that report cards are going out soon and that there will be a student holiday on April 30. She sounded almost giddy when she got to the part about the student holiday. I guess teachers and Principals need a break too.

Thursday ended well. Nothing earth shaking and nothing else to complain about. (Actually, there is, but I won't). I'm still alive and glad to be. Still unemployed. Still working on this wife, mother, daughter, sister and aunt "thing". Still working on me and wondering if I'll ever get me right; and still filled with hope and gratitude because I know...

"You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes, well you just might find
You get what you need"

Song of the day: Everybody's Got to Learn Sometime - The Korgis

"Change your heart
Look around you
Change your heart
It will astound you - The Korgis"

Ain't nothing like standing in the shower for the ultimate in spiritual experiences. The setting is perfect. You're all alone, standing in the first suit He ever gave you...naked and with nothing to hide. The suit may have been somewhat altered from the time you first received it, but you still have it. Your eyes are closed and if all goes as planned, you're clean when you step out. As I stood in the shower and prayed, I started thinking that maybe God and I are going to be OK. Not sure about the water bill though (I was in there a very long time).

Today was a calm day. Eerily calm. "The Boy" got ready and went to school this morning without a hitch. However, he came home and tried to play "The Price Is Right" with me when it came to doing his homework. He had a math assignment and kept getting the answers wrong. Again, I refused to help him. He would bring me his incorrect answer, and then ask me if the correct answer were higher or lower. I went along with this until he completed it. I then explained to him that it wasn't a matter of getting the answers correct, but that he needed to understand the principle behind them. He gave me a blank look. He clearly did not care. As far as he was concerned, homework was done and the rest of his afternoon was free. I can see that we are going to have to fight this battle one homework assignment at a time.

Later this afternoon, I went to a job fair sponsored by one of our local universities. They chose to have it at the Botanical Gardens located less than 5 miles from my home. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to go. So, with my husband's encouragement, I put on my interview outfit, brushed my hair into a french twist and headed out the door.

When I got there, I registered. Immediately a lady came up to me and asked my name. Tall and graceful, with all of the poise of a ballerina; she was absolutely stunning. This, in itself made me suspicious. (Typically, there are no ex-ballerinas in my profession). We shook hands and I told her my name. She took me by the arm, smiled, and gave me an information packet, along with a folding yellow umbrella as a doorprize; all the while saying that she remembers my name from "somewhere". She then recalls seeing the online application I sent in and asked if I could give her another one. She appeared to be excited. Not to be negative... but they all appear to be "excited" when first meeting me. (There I go, using the ambiguous "they" again) Please don't get me started on that one.

Anyhow, I obliged and met with a few other people. The room was cheerful; filled with plants and flowers. A live jazz quartet was playing in the background and there was a nicely arranged spread of deli meats, cheeses and fruits. It was one cake short of looking like a wedding reception.

Just then, I remember Hansel and Gretel and how they almost got themselves cooked because of some attractive looking goodies. As I remember: The story identifies the goodies as being cookies, cake and candy. For me, the story has now been updated to include deli meats. Nope, I will not fall for the food lure. And I didn't. All in all, it went well. I didn't "wow" anyone (except for perhaps the elderly bass player in the jazz quartet), but I didn't turn anyone "off" either.

"I need your loving like the sunshine
And everybody's got to learn sometime"

Because it always looks good when James Bond does it, the "imp" in me made me go to the buffet table, pluck out one perfect green olive and pop it into my mouth as I walked out of the door. I called my husband on my cell phone as I continued walking to the parking lot. We briefly spoke about the meeting and I then tell him that I am on my way home. The rest of the evening went well. Television, dinner, baths and bed. Day over.

Oh, and "The Boy" gets the yellow umbrella.

"Everybody's got to learn sometime
Everybody's got to learn sometime"

Song of the day: Another Day - Paul McCartney

"Everyday she takes a morning bath
She wets her hair
Wraps a towel around her
As she's heading for the bedroom chair
It's just another day" - Paul McCartney

WARNING: I am hereby acknowledging that there is absolutely NO redeeming value in this post whatsoever. It is solely for me. To help keep me out of denial and to to recall that this day really did happen. If you have an aversion to whining and uninspirational posts, please feel free to click out of this one, with my blessings. You have been warned.

This morning, after waking up "The Boy", I went downstairs to fry him an egg. Not to brag, but my eggs usually come out perfectly formed; yolk sitting squarely in the middle of the white, then flipped over to complete the job. Not this morning. The egg stuck to the pan and the shape turned out to be not as aesthetically pleasing as I would had hoped. But I called "The Boy" downstairs to eat it anyway. When he saw the egg, the look on his face was indescribable. He had the appearance like that of one who is constipated as his face contorted into an absolute look of horror.

As he continued to stare down at the egg, he proceeded to berate me about my egg cooking abilities; telling me that he could not believe that I had done such a thing and could I please make him another. The answer, of course, was no. He said that he was mad and I told him that he had better get glad...soon! Here I am, running around like Betty Crocker on "crack" and we were both about to be late for school.

However, this got me to thinking: Sometimes you can do your absolute best but yet and still not be offically recognized until you make or cause a "screw up". It made no difference to him that I had been making a perfect breakfast for him for the last 8 years or so. This is the one that he will remember.

"At the office where the papers grow
She takes a break
Drinks another coffee
And she finds it hard to stay awake"

This set the tone for the day. The gloves were off. I dropped him off at school, came home and had coffee. After coffee, I cleaned my bathroom and was at our local library by 10:00am. At 10:15 a "snorting" patron came in; blowing his nose, hacking up phlegm, and rolling his chair back and forth on the floor as he mumbled into his cell phone. I endured this torture until he left about 30 minutes later and stayed at the library until it was time to pick up "The Boy".

I picked him up and we drove to the Dollar General Store. He started begging for everything in sight and then told me: "Mom, we need to compromise; a little for you and little for me; and then we both will be happy". Realizing that this was too big a statement from him for it to be of his own originality, I asked him where he got it. He said that he had heard it from a cartoon called "Sushi Pack". Mystery solved. I bought us four Hershey chocolate bars. We sat parked in the car in front of the store and ate them. He ate one and I ate three. His Dad hates for us to eat in the car. I am not sorry. I would easily do it again and I could have eaten three more, had I not been too embarrassed to go back in and buy them.

Finally we drove home and I cooked dinner; while supervising "The Boy" as he did homework in the sunroom. I fixed him a burger, but got the ingredients in the wrong sequence. It should have been: bottom bun, burger, ketchup, mustard, cheese; then top bun. I accidentally put the ketchup and mustard on top of the cheese and got scolded about it. This, of course, is a capital offense. Bring me the electric chair please!

I checked my email. I had applied for several State government positions. The "sorry, but this position has been filled" notices were rolling in quicker than I could press "delete". And they all came from the same person; "Heather". I emailed Heather and complemented her on her efficiency in turning out so many notices in such a short period of time.

"As she posts another letter
To the sound of five
People, gather round her
And she finds it hard to stay alive"

Today is my brother and his wife's two year wedding anniversary and I have yet to get them anything. I've got to put this on my list. In speaking to other family members, they say that they have not been able to reach them.

I called my good friend of 27 years at work. When I worked with her, we ate lunch together every day for over 25 years, so we know more about each other than anyone should ever be allowed to. The good as well as the bad. She told me that a former workmate's husband had been diagnosed with a serious illness and that she was in the process of offering support to her and her family during this time of difficulty. I know them both, so this was difficult news for me to hear as well.

Later on this evening our family went out. After returning, I got "The Boy" settled for bed and then I went to bed; leaving the kitchen a mess and promising to get to it in the morning. There is a lot of other "stuff" in between that happened.

"It's just another day, Du Du Du Du Du,
It's just another day, Du Du Du Du Du
It's just another day"

Funny thing, this blogging. You can pick and choose whatever you want to present. I looked back at my previous posts and realized that I have presented a life that seems to include only a few people, when actually there are a lot more. And, I am suddenly and acutely aware of the large chunks of my days that I leave out. As time goes on, I hope to include some of the wonderful people I know who are worth mentioning and who make my life worthwhile; as well as those I know who leave the world a better place just because they are here. I am still evolving.

"It's just another day, Du Du Du Du Du
It's just another day"

Song of the day: Corner of The Sky -Stephen Schwartz

"Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky" - Stephen Schwartz

Sunday came and went without much fanfare. As usual, we went to Sunday service. We arrived late and guess where we sat? In the EXACT seats that my brother and sister-in-law sat in last Sunday. And guess where they sat? You've got it! In the EXACT seats that WE sat in last Sunday. Talk about Karma! I kept expecting a "whack" to the back of the head. (See last Sunday's post)

After we came back, I called my sister and she kept me in stitches. She is one of the few people who can really make me laugh. And laugh I did!

Then my husband decided to put together one of his country's native dishes. The food was delicious, but he left the kitchen an absolute wreck. I wouldn't tell him this...but it was worth it. "The Boy", however, would have none of it because the dish did not come in nugget form, nor did it require a bun. It was his loss.

And so, the day continued...with all kinds of "stuff" happening in between. Some things worth mentioning, some not; but again, as it does each week... before we knew it, Sunday was over.

This morning, "The Boy" and I got ready for school (as usual). His father had given him a haircut yesterday and it made me proud to see how nice he looked. He behaves differently when he has a haircut. More civilized. Perhaps the blade gets close enough to his brain to have some kind of "surgical" effect. As is my usual intense Monday routine, I was online most of the day, lining up prospects and the like.

I usually spend most Monday mornings planning my activities for the rest of the week; fitting in time to do housework and laundry in between. All in all, it was a good day, but I am feeling tired. And to be perfectly honest, I had to force myself to post tonight. However, it is extremely important to me that I capture as many moments as I can before they each fade from memory. Perhaps I'll feel better in the morning.

Tonight, "The Boy" pulled out a cassette tape with the original "Wizard of Oz" soundtrack. (Yes, we still have a cassette player) He said that he wanted to play it before he went to sleep. He usually likes for me to read to him, but tonight he chose the tape instead. There's something about this kid. He is so much into retro. As I lay down beside him in the darkness, we listened together. I sang along with the soundtrack while he remained quiet. That was...until he heard:

"You're out of the woods
You're out of the dark
You're out of the night..."

Then, all of a sudden, he perked up and said, "Hey Mommy, that's my favorite!" I hadn't really thought about it, but I guess it's mine too.

"Hold onto your breath
Hold onto your heart
Hold onto your hope

March up to the gate
And bid it open"...

Song of the day: On The Street Where You Live - Alan Jay Lerner

"I have often walked down this street before;
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before.
All at once am I several stories high.
Knowing I'm on the street where you live".- Alan Jay Lerner

Yesterday, "The Boy" had a half day of school. He got out at 11:00am. We went straight to the public library for a few hours and then to the park located near our home for a picnic lunch. The weather was nice and we had time to talk. As I sat on a nearby swing, he played a while by himself; then ventured out to join a few of the other younger children. I sit amazed as some of the children (aged four and below) are left alone by their caretakers to do as they please. Pretty soon, "The Boy", sensing this lack of authority, begins acting as self-proclaimed Mayor of the playground. Drunk with power, he starts bossing them around. Anarchy soon begins to settle in and so he is promptly removed from public office... by me, at 3:00 p.m.

As he continues to play elsewhere, I move to a nearby bench to keep an eye on him. I pick up my cellphone to call my father and ask permission to come over in a few minutes. He was delighted! Sure we could come! Mom was out and would be back shortly, but he said that we should come anyway. So off we went.

My parents live 4.58 miles away from my house, which makes it about 3.58 miles from the park. A fairly short drive. Mom and Dad still live in the same house we moved into as teenagers. It is a solid; stately brick home; located on a quiet tree-lined street. We were happy growing up there and have many pleasant memories. "The Boy" thinks that it is the next best thing to being Paradise. However, when I get there, he tosses me aside because he now falls under the jurisdiction of Papa and Nana. When there, I no longer have any rights. When there, I hold no power over him. My parents' home is his sanctuary and becomes my kryptonite.

There, "The Boy" no longer has to be Mayor of some mere children's playground, but is immediately promoted to "King" once he walks through the door. I don't even try to fight it anymore. When we drive up, Dad has the front door open, so we just walk right in. I caution him about leaving it open, but he just kisses me, looks at me like I am crazy, and then hugs "The Boy". He is a man of few words; but it is what he does NOT say that speaks volumes. He is my Daddy. I don't push the issue.

We chatted for a while and then one of Mom's friends came over, bringing a platter of fried fish for them. She is a longtime family friend and does this type of thing all the time. We said our hellos. Then she hugged everyone, left the food in the kitchen and departed shortly thereafter. My parents have lots of friends and they all like doing things for them. This gives us kids a small sense of security, knowing that they also have a reliable extended support system outside of immediate family who look out for them.

Mom shortly arrives and she is thrilled to see me and "The Boy", but ecstatic when she sees the fish. This means that her "what's for dinner" dilemma has been taken care of. We talk for a while and I then excuse myself to go and sit on the front stoop...alone. On a nice, warm evening it brings back many memories. I sit there until the bugs make it unbearable, then go back in and tell "The Boy" it's time to go home. He almost goes into a pout, but decides against it at the last minute; having enough sense to know that it would change nothing. On the way out, Mom fixes me a care package to take to my husband, so that I won't have to cook when I get home. Dad throws in a few honey buns for "The Boy" and then we leave.

Mom and Dad have made their house a home of good memories and they are giving our son the gift of having some of the best grandparents around.

I start to remember: My old bedroom looks almost the same way it did when I left years ago. The bedding has changed, the blue and white pom poms are gone, but all of the furniture is the same and occupies the exact same space as it did before I left home. It is now the guest room. My sister's old bedroom is now a "whatever" room and my brother's old room is pretty much a "getaway" room. He came back and stayed there for a few years before he got married in 2006. It has a screened-in porch and a sweeping view of the back yard. Mom and Dad made everything nice for us and we can never forget it.

Of late, we have had most of our family gatherings at my house. They have been nice but lack the kind of homey feeling we had been accustomed to. The house that Mom and Dad live in is a lot of house for just the two of them. I am sure that the main reason they keep it is, for us and their two precious grandchildren. We are loved. As I drive away, I am thinking: If this is a chapter in the lesson that I am supposed to be learning; it can indeed be said that "this is where it is coming to the good part". (Thanks "M" for helping me to see this)

"People stop and stare. They don't bother me.
For there's no where else on earth that I would rather be.
Let the time go by, I won't care if I
Can be here on the street where you live"

Soapbox moment: If your parents are decent people who are still around, give 'em a call today. They'd love to hear from you.

Happy Saturday.

Song of the day: Pieces of Dreams - Marilyn Bergman

"Little girl lost
In search of little girl found
You go on wondering, wandering
Stumbling, tumbling
'Round. . . 'round. . . " - Marilyn Bergman

First off: Let me say that I am not one to offer wholesale unsolicited advice. However, I will break one of my own rules and shout this one bit of advice loudly and from the mountaintops: DO NOT, and I repeat, DO NOT go to bed with your television on! This has caused me all kinds of misery.

It has been said that dreams are nature's way of working out the day's problems and other unresolved issues. However, dreams, when intermingled subconciously with toothpaste ads, re-runs of Star Trek and commercials for feminine hygiene products turn into something best described as what would happen if someone made a Salvador Dali meets M.C. Escher meets Carrot Top movie. Unsettling, but not quite qualifying for nightmare status.

Upon awakening the next day, you will find your problems still unresolved and worse yet, (which I believe to be the cruelest blow of all), even appended to. I had such an experience...which, in turn, caused me to expect far too much from my coffee cup the following morning.

Oh, and by the way, I am also prone to the occasional panic attack. Had one of those too. Why not just throw that one into the mix! I had not had one in quite some time, so I guess I was overdue. It left me still trying to figure out the trigger. Did not see it coming. Tightening of the chest, inability to breathe, inability to swallow... blindsided me and came completely "out of the blue". It was over in about fifteen minutes but it seemed like forever. Putting it all behind me now.

Today's topic on the way to school with "The Boy" was flatulence. This must mean that I really and truly have a boy. He couldn't pass for a girl...even if I put a bow on his head! I will not provide all of the gory details of the discussion; but it was filled with snickering and giggles. He also provided an armpit demonstration; which eventually led to the "real thing"; and then more snickering and giggles. We finally got to school (with the windows rolled down). Enough already!!

Nothing has materialized on the employment front as of yet; but I am feeling drawn towards my destiny, whatever that may be. I am pretty good at expressing myself and committing pen to paper, but for some unknown reason, I unable to put this particular feeling into words. Just wondering when my lesson in humility is going to end. Something or someone in the Universe appears to be taking delight in teaching it to me. I suspect that it is being done in such a way so that I will never ever forget. OK, I get it. May I have my report card please? And do I get to keep my sanity when this is all over? What seemed like a joke is no longer funny. I feel wracked with mental exhaustion and it is starting to show.

On a good note,(and this may seem contradictory): the vibe is positive... very positive. Feels like I've got a blindfold on and am being led to my own surprise party. But then again, I have never really cared for surprises...good or bad. Let's just hope it's not just a game of pin the tail on the donkey.

"Little girl blue
Don't let your little sheep roam
It's time come blow your horn
Meet the morn, look and see
Can you be
Far from home... "

Good night y'all. May all your dreams be pleasant ones.

Song of the day: Ever Changing Times - Siedah Garrett

"I see that clock upon the wall
It don't bother me at all
It's an ever changing time" - Siedah Garrett

Yesterday, as I arrived at my son's school to pick him up, the Principal met me at the door. She proceeds to lock arms with me and we begin to stroll. All the while I'm thinking: "This cannot be good". She is a kind woman; blessed with a disarming smile and an easy manner. Long story short...I like her.

"The Boy" had plucked a flower from the school garden to give to me. It seems she told him that it would be best that he not do this in the future and believes that she has hurt his feelings. She just wants me to know about it. I thank her and walk away. "The Boy" is a sensitive child with a good heart and does not like to make anyone unhappy. This may cause problems later on, but I will work on each incident as it occurs. I walk into the cafeteria to sign him out and find him sitting at the table, clutching the half wilted flower in his left hand. He rises when he sees me and immediately starts confessing.

All eyes are on us as the rest of the kids lie in wait for what appears sure to be a well deserved public hanging. I do the opposite of what is expected. I smile and give him a big fat exaggerated "bear hug". He is still chattering away as we walk arm in arm out of the door...Disappointment from the other kids is almost palpable as we make our less than expected "drama free" exit. I have in my possession the secret weapon that most Moms everywhere possess; and that is: The element of surprise.

We get into the car and shut the door. I thank him for the flower and explain to him how it would be nice to let everyone else enjoy them too. He nods his head in agreement. He understands. I smile to myself because, in my heart I know how much that flower "cost" him. Because of that, it now sits in one of my best crystal bud vases on my dining room table. And sit there it will...at least until the last faded bud has dropped off completely.

Mom called early this morning. It was good to hear from her. She took this particular opportunity to exercise her rights as Supreme Matriarch and speak to me about the blessings of God and what "good" children we were... and how we never gave her a moment's trouble while growing up.. and how fortunate I should be to have a good husband... and what a good son-in-law he is...and how things are going to work out for me and... Well, I think you get the point. She was being, well... a Mom. She continued talking and I let her do so...uninterupted. I remained uncharacteristically quiet as I felt the "burn" in my nostrils; letting the warm tears stream down my cheeks; realizing just how much I love her and that she and Daddy will not be with us forever. This was my "Today's Food For Thought". I want to hold on to this moment because one day I know that I will need to remember it. I can't be too presumptuous because life and death is not first-come, first-served. There is equal opportunity; for infant or octogenarian to "cut" into the line. Everyone in this line is polite.

"You go first"..."Oh no, after you"

"All of my life, it comes back to
You and me are running out of time,
Gotta find me a better understanding
Every day I keep forgetting what’s mine,
Gotta find me a way, less-demanding

As the neighborhood birds sing their little "mortgage free" hearts out, "The Boy" and I get ready for school. He is a good boy and he is ours. We owe him a good foundation and a decent family life. He owes us respect and his smile in return. The other "stuff" will work themselves out. I know I'm rambling, but I promise you...this soliloquoy is almost over.

And we're holding on so tight, together,
And we’re gonna be alright together
All of our lives"

He doesn't know it yet, but today when he comes home from school, "The Boy" is going to clean his room. I have already dumped all of the things from his bed and bureau on to the floor in a pile. Right now his room looks like the local landfill. It will be up to him to sort out the Action Figures, dirty socks, crayons, etc; Boy, is he going to be mad! I am imitating my mother and maybe her mother. It is a very fine legacy she is leaving me. Oh, and when he finishes...he's calling Nana and Papa...Why? Because I said so, that's why. The legacy will continue.

"I see that clock upon the wall, well it don’t bother me at all
These are ever changing times"

Song of the day: Learning To Fly - Pink Floyd

"Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back
A flight of fancy on a windswept field
Standing alone my senses reeled
A fatal attraction is holding me fast
How can I escape this irresistible grasp?" - Pink Floyd

Yesterday afternoon after I picked up "The Boy" from school, I came home and did a few things around the house. One pack of chicken legs, one marinated roast and a few loads of laundry later, I received a phone call. It was the recruiter from one of the agencies with whom I had interviewed and registered. The woman said that she had called me "on a lark". Seems she thought about me when pulling out a particular assignment she had on file. Emphasizing that I was overqualified (in this day and age this is nothing to brag about), but also recalling my mentioning the fact that I was open to change; she asked permission to submit my name. I told her that it would be fine.

"Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit, I"

It's not that I am settling for mediocrity, but I'm figuring that this would be more like catching a train that would transport me to my next stage in life. No one rides the train forever and this is by no means my ultimate destination; but still I need a vehicle in which to "get there". Besides, I'm tired of sitting in the terminal.

This morning, "The Boy" and I have our usual ride to school. In the car, I'm singing at the top of my lungs. The song is: "Lonely Boy" by Andrew Gold. Despite the title, it is an upbeat song with an upbeat tempo. I become my own percussionist; keeping time with the beat on the dashboard as I drive. I know the people in the cars around me think I'm insane. That's OK. I'm almost 50 and, by golly, I believe I have earned the privilege. "The Boy" is listening intently. Not only to the music but also to the words. He is, after all, his mother's son. Afterwards, he tells me that he likes the song. He also says, in so many words, that while he may like the song, he is glad that he is not a lonely boy and says that he is also glad he doesn't have a sister (she makes her entrance sometime during the middle of the song). This makes me happy. I must have done something right. In any case, the "sister and/or brother making machine" has been shut down, and I couldn't make either one even if I wanted to.

We are almost at the school when he asks: "Mom, can fish cry?". This is totally out of left field and makes absotively (I made up that word) no sense to me. He asks in such a way that makes it seem to be a serious inquiry. I tell him that I suppose they could but that I didn't know for sure. He then asks me: "How come fish poop in the water?", and starts laughing; even before he could get the entire question out. That's it!! He's being silly and I fell "hook, line and sinker" for this foolishness. But it was good for a laugh. A cheap one; but a laugh just the same. We are now at school. I playfully pretend to be annoyed and tell him to "Get out of the car!" "Just get out of the car!" By now, he's almost doubled over with laughter. We must look like a couple of town drunks as we both tumble into each other and head towards the school. I attempt to kiss him on the forehead; like yesterday, but this time he recoils. This must mean that I am back on my game. Yessss!!!!

The recruiter called again this morning to clarify with me whether or not I had a specific type of experience. Just so happens, I do. She then calls it a "plus" and says that she will call me back a little later. We'll just have to see how it goes...

"There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss
Can't keep my mind from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit, I"

I don't know where this will all end, but I do know that it has been a long time.

Song of the day: It's Not Easy Being Green - Joe Rapposo (Sung by Kermit The Frog)

"It's not that easy being green;
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold...
or something much more colorful like that" - Joe Rapposo

The morning is overcast; not quite rainy but more along the lines of the "spitting" variety of weather. I began to get back into my usual funky "poor me" Monday morning mode. Realizing this, I made a conscious effort to "catch" myself before it accelerated (decelerated?). Noggin to the rescue...I start singing: **"Days are the sunniest...everywhere I go..." It helps.

This morning, as I went through the usual motions of getting "The Boy's" clothes together for school, he requested a green shirt. He always requests a green shirt. It is his favorite color. However, he does not have a lot of them. I go to the pile of freshly laundered clothes in the guest room and find one for him. He is satisfied. We continue our routine and we are off to school. In the car, he looks out of the window and asks me if it's going to rain everyday. I tell him that I'm not really sure. There is meaning in these words for me. When juxtaposed with what I am feeling, there appears to be some symbolism there.

We arrive at school. I hold his hand as I walk with him to the front of the campus and kiss him on the forehead. He does not protest. I'm glad because I don't feel like rejection this early in the morning. He probably senses it.

After taking "The Boy" to school, on the drive back home I suddenly realize that today is also recycle day. I look around the neighborhood and see a number of recycle boxes lined up neatly in front of various houses. I run around the house and gather all of our recyclables; newspapers, plastic water bottles, juice cartons, etc; and place them in the containers we keep in the garage. I rush back into the house, take two sips of coffee and head back out; dragging the filled containers behind me and to the curb. You never know when the truck is coming, so you have to be quick. Ah...done. It truly is not easy being "green".

My husband then calls to tell me he has picked up 20 bags of mulch from Wal-Mart. He has bargained with the Wal-Mart people and has received a discount. He has come off victorious and is proud of it. He is now on his way to Mom's to deliver a few bags to her. She has a green thumb and the uncanny ability to raise what appears to be "the dead" when it comes to plants. Everything seems to be alive in her presence. She is a dynamo.

The job search continues. I am no longer the young woman I used to be. I am not stunningly beautiful, but I have enough self-confidence in myself to realize that I am rather nice looking; and on a good day, I have even been described as being "pretty".
(I refuse to use the word "attractive", because that's exactly what "poop" is to houseflies)

I am also a realist. I have been guilty of offering up the occasional quickie McPrayer to God, but I believe that this situation will require more of the "knee to carpet" type. The days of me opening doors with just my smile, charm and good looks are over. Well, I've still got some "charm" left... but I've got to bring something else to the table and must strike that balance between being "real" and brazen self-promotion. I am playing checkers in a chess game. The boards may look alike but the games definitely are not the same. I am "green" and have somehow been left behind as the world spins dizzyingly around me. It is sobering and it is truth but I can face it. I've got to.

"When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why wonder?
I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful!
And I think it's what I want to be"

Have a great day.




**(See post of March 26,2008)

Song of the day: Judy in Disguise- John Fred and His Playboy Band

"Judy in disguise, well that's what you are
Lemonade pies with a brand new car
Cantalope eyes come to me tonight
Judy in disguise, with glasses" - John Fred and His Playboy Band

This morning we woke up as usual and guess what it was doing outside? All together now...RAINING. However, this did not deter us. My husband got up and made "The Boy" his breakfast while I caught a few more "Zzz's". I later got up, grabbed a cup of coffee and got dressed.

Finally, we were ready to go to Sunday service. We arrived just as it was about to begin and took our seats, two rows from the back on the right hand side of the auditorium. This was strategic. I had scoped out the exit and planned to leave immediately after "Amen". Approximately five minutes later, my brother and sister-in-law arrive. They immediately gravitate toward the middle section and take seats approximately two rows ahead of us and to the left; giving me a clear, unobstructed view of the backs of their heads.

She is well put together. Dressed in classic black, wearing a neat "Victoria Beckham" type hairstyle and flat disc earrings. She, a vision of serenity; belying all of the turmoil going on between my brother, my niece and herself. For shame! For absolute shame!

"Keep a-wearing your bracelets and your new rara
Cross your heart-yeah-with your living bra
Chimney sweep sparrow with guise
Judy in disguise, with glasses"

As for my brother? Well, he just looks... stunned. Not sure what "zapped" him, but I can only tell you what I saw. For whatever reason, I was hypnotically drawn to the backs of their heads and could not keep my eyes off them.

All through the sermon, I kept thinking to myself: "I would love to just "bop" her upside the head". Not a malicious kind of "bop", mind you, but one that would be somewhat of a cross between the "I could've had a V8" variety and the one that happens shortly after a charismatic minister's exclamation of "Heal!" More of an...um... "awakening" type of "bop"...swiftly applied to the back of the head, followed by a quick snapback. The more I looked at them, the more I felt that my brother could benefit from this type of firmly placed application of palm to head, as well. I ask God's forgiveness for what I feel, but I just can't help it. I still want to "bop" them.

I take a quick glance around. I see my sister, sitting in the far left on the very back row. She also came in late but does not see me. I turn back around to face the front. The sermon continues... Moving on from food shortages, earthquakes, pestilence to the fulfillment of prophecy... from Genesis to Revelation; I just keep staring at my brother and sister-in-law... mesmerized.

What finally made me "snap out of it" was the little guy sitting next to me, dressed smartly in a blue suit and satin bow tie. As you may have already guessed, it was "The Boy". He was smiling up at me as his father sat on the other side of him. He likes family. He likes seeing us all together. I reflected on how I needed to be an example to him and brought myself back to attention. Next thing you know, it was time for a song and prayer. Before you could say Amen, I was out of the door. I had intended on going directly to the car, but on my way out, I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in some time. We stood in the breezeway and chatted for a while. She and I are "sisters" of the soul. Meaning: We understand each other.

We embraced and continued to speak. A real enjoyable conversation on a rainy Sunday morning. My sister then approaches and says that whenever she sees the two of us together for more than one minute, it could only mean trouble. We all laugh.

I then join my husband and my son for the short ride home. We have the usual husband and wife discussions while my son laughs in the back seat. He thinks we are funny. We hope we can keep him laughing for as long as we can. They grow up so very quickly.

Not sure what we are having for dinner tonight. It'll work itself out. This is Sunday and I am just happy to be alive! And "G", thanks for the laughs this morning ...enjoy the song.

"I guess I'll just take your glasses"

Happy Sunday Everyone.

Song of the day: All This Time - Sting

"I looked out across
The river today
I saw a city in the fog and an old church tower
Where the seagulls play
I saw the sad shire horses walking home
In the sodium light
I saw two priests on the ferry
October geese on a cold winter's night" - Sting

Yesterday afternoon, two ministers from our local congregation stopped by to talk to my husband and myself. They had asked to come by three weeks ago, but something always came up. My husband had agreed to the visit without first consulting with me. It was ok... but let the record show that he had not talked this over with me first. (Somebody's going to read this one day and I want to make sure it was duly noted) I was a little miffed at this, but "sucked it up", in order to keep the peace. Prior to their arrival, we sent "The Boy" upstairs with a stern warning "not to show his face" or make so much as a "peep" until after the coast was clear. He happily disappeared into his room and remained there... suspiciously quiet until they got ready to leave.

"And all this time, the river flowed
Endlessly to the sea"

They arrived. We exchanged pleasantries and led them to our formal dining room; where we sat down and held a general "ha ha ha, tee hee hee" conversation. And then... one of them asked how we were doing. It was starting to get personal. Long pause... My husband and I then locked eyes. It was as if each were trying to telepathically give the other permission to speak. I then looked away. This was the cue that it would be ok. But who would speak first?

Even though a "look" will not stand up in a court of law, the true dynamics of our marriage were at work and on display; the power of the unspoken word undeniable. As if to further test that power, I steadfastly remained silent. I could hold out forever. My husband, in awe of, but clearly uncomfortable with my ability to continue the standoff, spoke up and explained that "his wife" was searching for employment; at which time, one of them, who is VERY well respected and known in the community, paused for a few moments, asked about my background and then requested that I give him my resume to pass along because "he knows people". He does indeed. We talk further, I promised to send the resume and we end the visit on a positive and pleasant note.

"The Boy", who had obviously been eavesdropping, as if on cue, suddenly appears, stage left, smiling broadly on the upstairs loft. He begins shouting: "Thank you for coming!" while wildly waving his arms like a crazy man to them downstairs. What appears to be a warm, as well as, enthusiastic sendoff, is actually an "I'm-so-glad-you-are-leaving-so-that-I-can-watch-my-cartoons" gesture. I look up at him and give him "the eye". He acknowledges it, tones down his Hallelujahs, and quickly disappears again. My husband and I both agree that it was a good visit, but we don't speak much more about it.

Today is Saturday. It is raining and would have been a perfect day for sleeping in. This morning my brother called my mother, my sister and myself...each of us before 7:00am. He clearly has something on his mind, but stops just short of expressing it. Later, my sister calls me and after some discussion, we come to the conclusion that he is already feeling the sadness of missing his daughter who he sent back home yesterday. There will be another time for this. He will speak to us when he is ready.

"And all this time the river flowed
Endlessly like a silent tear
And all this time the river flowed
Father, if Jesus exists,
Then how come he never lived here"

The plot thickens: What I had failed to mention in previous posts is that his new wife (of almost 2 years this month) and his daughter do not get along, so it had to be a stressful situation for him in more ways than one. He had to plan the visit logistically in such a way that the wife and the daughter crossed paths as infrequently as possible. Also, from what I understand, her stepfather, who is a musician on tour, was playing at a venue not too far from where we live. I'm not really sure what the expectations were, but in any case she didn't get to see him. Since I am (thankfully) not involved in all of the daily comings and goings, I have absolutely no idea what affect,if any, that it would have on anything. Call me blissfully ignorant.

I'm working my way back into a headache. Next subject...

"The Boy" awakened cheerfully this morning and requested waffles for breakfast. To my credit, I had some in the freezer, so I didn't have to make any new ones. You see, whenever I get into one of my waffle making moods, I usually make extra and freeze them. So there he sat, happily baptizing each bite of waffle in syrup; sipping on a tall glass of milk, looking at cartoons.

"And all this time the river flowed
In the falling light of a northern sun
If I had my way
I'd take a boat from the river"

The sky is starting to look "iffy", but we'll soon be leaving Couch Potato Academy and going out in a bit...probably to the library first. Who knows what the rest of the day will bring.

"Men go crazy in congregations
They only get better one by one
One by one"

Hope your Saturday is a good one!

"One by one, by one
One by one"

Song of the day: Until You Come Back To Me - Aretha Franklin

"Though you don't call any more
I sit and wait in vain
I guess I'll rap on your door
Tap on your window pane - Aretha Franklin

This afternoon, I'll be putting forth a more concerted effort with my job search. So far, it has not gone well, so I've got to become more strategic about this thing. Mornings are usually very busy at most places, so I'll give a big push this afternoon.

The niece is gone and everything has returned to normal. It is Friday and the sun is shining. By this afternoon, she should be back in sunny California.

I did the usual morning things, but before leaving home and dropping "The Boy" off at school, I decided that I needed a change of scenery. My home is nice and comfortable, but it has become to me a "beautiful prison" and I have turned into what I despise the most...The Nosy Neighbor. You know the type...

Remember snoopy old Gladys Kravitz from the show Bewitched? That would be me. From my home office window, I can see people come in, I can see people go out, FedEx deliveries, pizza, furniture, mailman...you name it. From the trash left out on the curb, I can tell who has a new baby, as well as who got a new big screen television or computer system. I have even developed the fine art of tilting the venetian blinds at just the precise angle so as not to be seen.

But again, I digress...Anyhoo...On my way out, I grabbed my canvass tote, a newspaper, a bottle of water and my bible. I searched for symbolism in each object and tried to understand why I made each selection. I could only find practical value. I was desperate and trying to find a message. There was none.

After I dropped "The Boy" off at school, I drove to a local shopping center parking lot and just sat. I thought I was alone but looked around and saw about half a dozen people doing the same thing. Reading newspapers, drinking coffee or just staring out of the window. Were we all waiting for something to happen? Is a spaceship coming to pick us up and deliver us to destinations unknown? I sat and read my bible(Ecclesiastes) for a bit, read my newspaper for a bit and then tried to formulate a new plan. Yes, I'm going to make some calls this afternoon and see how it goes.

My sister says the reason I have not been successful is because I have been denying my destiny and have not properly exploited a specific talent that I have. Some time ago, she sent me a musical card which said in part "make your own kind of music, sing your own special song...even if nobody else sings along" - Cass Elliott.

I don't know about that, but I do know that I can't be collecting these purple hearts for nothing. Sometimes I feel as if someone has given me an Oneida butter knife, thrown me in the arena with a Samurai warrior and told me to fight. My former boss always said that things happen for a reason. I believe that. I also believe that sometimes God whispers to us but we have to be listening.

And God, if you are indeed whispering to me; I'm listening...and if you don't mind, could you please turn up the volume just a tad bit. I'd really appreciate it. - Nards

"Although your phone you ignore
somehow I must explain
I'll have to rap on your door, tap on your window pane
Until you come back to me, that's what I'm gonna do

Happy Friday everyone! After having made a few phone calls, I'm off to pick up "The Boy"

Song of the day: Somebody's Always Sayin' Goodbye- Anne Murray

"Railroad station, midnight trains
Lonely airports in the rain
And somebody stands there with tears in their eyes - Anne Murray

Last evening my brother and niece returned to our home to spend a little more time with us. I had asked him to delay his visit until the afternoon, so that we could give "The Boy" time to complete his homework assignments without distraction. Although my niece is on vacation, "The Boy", after all, is no longer on Spring Break and I did not want him to become confused and regress back into Spring Break mode.

I was still a bit groggy from the dental work I had performed on me earlier that morning, so I wasn't quite "up to par". This combination had the potential of turning me into Momzilla, so I believe that the planned delay was a wise move on my part.

That being said, my brother and my niece came over around 4:00pm. My sister later joined us about a half hour later. It was again fun. I cooked, they ate; and we all enjoyed each other's company. Another nice evening. In the back of my mind I'm thinking...this visit is about to come to a close.

This morning, my husband gave in to neighborhood pressure and cut the grass. The "Best Green Lawn in the Cul-de-sac" contest has begun. I suppose that it's a "man" thing because the grass looked fine to me. Let me just say, the three dandelions at the end of the driveway next to the mailbox didn't stand a chance.

No calls yet from any employment prospects...

Mom called to say that she would be over this morning around 10:00am. She had a letter that she wanted me to help her draft; to send to our State Dental Board, reporting her dissatisfaction with the care she received from her last visit to a fairly new, but established dentist. She was furious! I volunteered to play Sherlock Holmes and investigate this dentist myself. In so doing, I checked the licensing board and found that this particular practitioner had so many pending judgements against her that it was difficult to keep count! Mom soon came over, and armed with this additional information, we drafted the letter. I printed the necessary copies, and after having her sign each one and giving them to her to post; she got back into her Buick and off she drove.

Checked email…still no response from any prospective employers

My niece has an early flight out tomorrow. "The Boy" has asked about it and is starting to feel sad. He asked about her and all of the particulars, the moment I picked him up from school. Is she coming over this afternoon? Can she please? Can I call her? I try to avoid answering him, but he is relentless and stays on me like a pit bull (a trait I'm sure he inherited from my mother-in-law).

I call my brother on his cellphone and put "The Boy" on the line. They are at Mom and Dad's now, but yes, they can come and no, they can't be here by 4:30, but will be here by five. "The Boy" smiles. This will be the last visit before she leaves tomorrow morning. It's times like these when I sometimes wish I had another child; but then again...

"But that's the way love is, it seems
Just when you've got a real good thing
Somebody's always sayin goodbye"

I sit back, inhale deeply and wait for them. It sure was a great visit.

Postscript...
8:24p.m. Dinner is over. The Last Supper. (However, the ending was far from Biblical) I would like to have said that they both hugged and she went off into the sunset. No such luck. They tattled and fought like cats and dogs (one was just as guilty as the other) and she went off into the rain. After playing referee, I've got a tremendous headache, and now see the wisdom in the old Chinese proverb: "Fish and guest go bad on the third day and must be thrown out".

They will meet again...this summer.

In the meantime, I'm off to take my blood pressure medicine....

"Somebody's always sayin goodbye"

Goodnight y'all

Song of the day: Daughters - John Mayer

"Fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too" - John Mayer

Yesterday was actually a pretty good day in Nardsville. And yes, my niece from Los Angeles did indeed arrive safely and soundly here to the East Coast. It is documented and she has actually been seen...by actual people. My brother called yesterday afternoon from his cellphone to announce her arrival and to tell us that they both would be in the neighborhood shortly. Minutes later, they were on our doorstep. She had spent the morning with my parents and the rest of the day with her Dad. Now, it was our turn.

My, how she has grown! I was excited to see her and so was "The Boy". All he could do was gasp and grin. The look on his face was absolutely priceless! She tried to appear nonchalant, as she is turning into quite a young lady; but it was clear to see that she was happy to see us. Gradually, the ice was broken again, as we all got reacquainted. Everything being quite informal, my brother brought over a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and my husband came downstairs as we all sat around and talked in the family room for a while. The two cousins played together; dumping treasures out of the toybox, lining up numerous action figures and pulling out games. The television blared, as whoever was holding the remote for the moment mindlessly flipped from channel to channel, not looking at anything in particular but just maintaining the chaotic ambience. World War III at its finest; and it was wonderful.

"Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made"

My husband excused himself after a while to go upstairs but never returned. (I'm sure it was due to sensory overload). Then my brother went to the store, leaving the kids with me to continue playing (sensory overload claims another victim). He returned a short time later with Breyer's cookies 'n cream ice cream as well as a package of souse.

To those of you who don't know what souse is; it consists of pickled pork parts (try saying that three times fast) along with a number of other mysterious ingredients, suspended in a vinegary gelatin. It actually is quite good; a Southern delicacy, but an acquired taste and not for everyone.

We laughed, talked, ate souse and ice cream...until it was time for them to go to my sister's house. My darling niece is here on a whirlwind visit. Quite independent, she has flown alone as an unaccompanied minor for quite some time now and will be leaving alone on Friday. Unfortunately, she doesn't get to see her father that often, so every visit is precious.

"Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take"

While our son is about as "green" as they come, her life in L.A. is so very different from ours. She is sharp, sensitive and nothing gets past her. Nothing. Her stepfather is a musician and her mother sings as well. She has a baby sister she adores. I think she has a good life. But, this is not the way my sister, my brother and myself were raised. We still have our "original" parents. There was no flying around from coast to coast to connect with one parent or the other. They were always just a bedroom door away from us. I hope that my niece will always remember us as her loving aunts and grandparents. She and "The Boy" are the only grandchildren my parents have and they are "golden" to them.

I hope that she and my brother maintain a good relationship and I hope that he continues to try to be as good a father to her as ours was to us. We have one of the best.

Borrowing a bit from Scheharazade...One day I'll have to tell you about my Dad ;-).

"So fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters, too"

Song of the day: Ordinary Miracle - Sarah McLachlan

"It’s not that usual when everything is beautiful
It’s just another ordinary miracle today" - Sarah McLachlan

Last night for me was rough. Nothing beats the nightime for re-living the events of the previous day. I was eyewitness to the passing of every hour on the hour. The darkness of the room stood in contrast to the bright RED numbers on the digital clock. (and let us not forget the pulsing colon that separates the hours from the minutes) The perfect backdrop for replaying, in my mind, any of the day's sins committed or triumphs attained; be they real or be they perceived. Truth in all its naked glory! Thoughts in glorious technicolor! And like any self-respecting bad video or B movie, last night's offering was a triple feature.

After a few hours of this nonsense (intermission?), I went downstairs and grabbed a cold chicken leg, wolfed it down and returned upstairs to let the misery continue. Couldn't wait to lay down in the darkness again to see what was next. Now you tell me, who is the real April fool?

Morning finally arrives and I look like...
Well, you can probably guess the word I would like to use. However, I will reserve that word for a later time and for a moment that's more deserving of this type of graphic description.

I pull myself together and after putting on my best "Mommy Face" I awaken "The Boy". He is cheerful, so I play along. We pretend to be cartoon characters. He puts up his "Woo Foo shield" and "zaps" me with his "Yin-cinerator". I've run out of "zap" juice. My "Woo Foo shield" is down and I've been "Yin-cinerated". Playtime is now over. We eat breakfast and get ready for school.

"Life is like a gift they say
Wrapped up for you everyday
Open up and find a way
To give some of your own"

Last night my sister had given a presentation that I was unable to attend, but was fortunate enough to listen to via conference call. This morning I called her to tell her how well she did. She thanked me and then made me laugh. This woman is absolutely hilarious! Like my father, she has a wickedly dry sense of humor and has a way of saying things that at the time seem only mildly funny; but after walking away, can make you suddenly and unexpectedly burst out into guffaws of laughter. She is the master of delayed chuckles.

I then call my brother. He is on the way in from the airport with my niece (his daughter). She is ten years old, lives on the West Coast with her mother, step-father and baby sister and happens to be on Spring Break this week. This will be a surprise for "The Boy". I had not told him that she was coming. I still will not tell him until I actually lay eyes on her myself. This is yet another story, for another day.

At this point, I still look like "the-word-I-promised-I-wouldn't-say" and so, I tuck my hair under, put on my husband's baseball cap and drive "The Boy" off to school without incident. I have to believe that things are going to get better.

"When you wake up everyday
Please don’t throw your dreams away
Hold them close to your heart
Cause we are all a part
Of the ordinary miracle"

It has been said to me: "one day you are going to look back at these days and laugh". I've got to upgrade my "Law of Attraction" power from refrigerator magnet to one of the super-charged electro-thing-a-ma-bob types.

"It seems so exceptional
Things just work out after all
It’s just another ordinary miracle today"

I'm smiling now. It's really hard to be sad when "Build Me Up Buttercup" is playing on the radio....

"The sun comes up and shines so bright
It disappears again at night
It’s just another ordinary miracle today"

"It’s just another ordinary miracle today"