House of Lime

Friday 55-Chilled Lime

2012-01-26T20:07:00.002-05:00

FRIDAY 55-Literally

Winter has finally hit.

Thank God for blankets.

I got my new alpaca blanket.

I still have my favorite old wool blanket.

I have the afghan my aunt made.

I'll use them all.

I am still cold.

Mr. Lime keeps the bedroom at 50.

I confess

when he's gone

I turn it up a notch.

DA COUNT

It's simple. I'm counting an ample supply of warm blankets, sweaters, and Duluth style hats. Oh, and a fireplace. Now excuse me I have a date with a blanket and the fireplace....maybe a mug of cocoa too.

Year of the Meme

2012-01-24T21:24:00.001-05:00

Welcome to The Queen's Meme

7 Royal Questions on Tuesday

Happy Chinese New Year! All over the world today - January 23 - people are celebrating The Chinese New Year, ushering in the much acclaimed Year of The Dragon 2012. There will be fifteen days of food, firecrackers, incense burning and revelry. It is considered to be the luckiest of all lunar Chinese new years. Prosperity and good fortune are central themes during this time of traditional hoopla. Let's participate in the Queen's Castle today. What do you know about this phenomenal worldwide event?

1. In a traditional Dragon or Lion Dance, the loud drums and cymbals are thought to chase out evil spirits. How do you do YOUR traditional Dragon Dance to drive out any evil in your life? (Do you dance with dragons?......or just old Elvis records....inquiring minds want to know)

I play Engelbert Humperdinck records backwards at 78 rpm, paint myself green and dance naked on the trampoline on a full moon,

2. Have you experienced any good or bad omens this year?

I'm not sure. How should I interpret seeing clouds in the shape of Newt Gingrich, repeatedly crossing paths with a green wombat, and hearing sounds like a bag of cats being beaten with a stick wherever I go?

3. I believe that good fortune has more to do with personal integrity, honesty and character than ancient symbolism. Treating people the way you would want to be treated goes a long way in warding off that pesky negative Karma. Dragons are considered evil creatures according to European culture , but in Chinese culture the dragon symbolizes supernatural power and goodness. Which one do you believe? Or would you rather just try the good ole' Golden Rule.......

In this recession the Golden Rule has become too expensive for me to afford. I'm going with the Electroplate Rule.

4. Chinese couples will attempt to have "Dragon babies" in the year 2012. In order to take advantage of astrological predictions of wealth and success, name one thing you should attempt to "birth" that could bring you good luck.

Well...um...I'm feeling a little constipated. Cooper, can ya pass me a yogurt?

5. You are in charge of the Chinese New Year Parade in your town. Who will ride on the first float?

There will be no floats. Dragons will chase the politicians who like to co-opt the parades. Any politician who cannot run fast enough will be barbequed by the flame throwers installed in the heads of the traditional Chinese dragon costumes.

6. What is your favorite Chinese food?

Why? Are we ordering out for lunch? In that case, are you buying? And uh...can we have Thai instead?

7. Chinese people often think of themselves as descendants of the mythical Dragon creature.
Do you have any mythical creatures in your family closet?

Oh great! Just last week I finally got over the idea that there was a monster under the bed. Now I have to worry about mythical creatures in the closet???

Trini Tuesday-Derek Walcott

2012-01-23T20:02:00.003-05:00

I receive the daily email from Writer's Almanac. It features a poem a day as well as little blurbs about things related to historic literary events of the day. I highly recommend it. I was reminded in Monday's email that it was the birthday of Derek Walcott, a Nobel Laureate and adopted Trinidadian.

Although he was born in St. Lucia, he moved to Trinidad at the age of 23 and a few years later formed the Trinidad Theatre Workshop. He wrote and produced numerous plays and wrote as a drama and art critic as well. He has lived so long in Trinidad and nurtured so many artists and writers on the island that he has been adopted as one of their own (showing how open Trinis are, anyone can be a Trini if they show an openess and a concern for the well-being of the culture and people). In 1992 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature (which has also been won by born and bred Trini, V.S. Naipual)

First, a favorite of his poems...

Love After Love

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

And a couple of his quotes, which I quite like...

I read; I travel; I become.

Break a vase, and the loves that reassembles the fragments is stronger than that love which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole.

Strange Grief

2012-01-22T18:38:00.000-05:00

Imagine living across the continent from your father who is in his 80s and in failing health.

Imagine a long, slow decline with many close calls during which you visit a few times and call periodically in between.

Imagine receiving the call that he has left this world.

Imagine you are the only person in the family your stepmother calls. This is partly because your remaining family has dwindled to only about half a dozen people and partly because you are the only person who really had a relationship with the man you call Dad.

Imagine taking unending flack from your mother for your efforts at reconciliation.

Imagine your relationship, such as it was, being steeped in so many lies told for so many years you don't even know some basic things about your father.

Imagine people hearing your family name and asking if you're related to this man with the same name, your father, who is either respected for the career he had or reviled for the crimes he committed.

Imagine the fear over which way that conversation will go. Imagine instructing your own children to ask why someone wants to know if they are ever asked if they are related to their grandfather.

Imagine flying across the country to attend your father's memorial surrounded by whatever people out there knew him, all strangers to you. Imagine knowing that some of the things he is remembered for are complete fabrications that these strangers believe.

Imagine being told he donated his body to science and when they are done with him you will receive his ashes in the mail.

I'd imagine those ashes symbolize not so much the man who was your father as the loss of what could have been and what remains when a lifetime of lies are stripped away.

And as much as I try, I don't know that I can properly imagine what this experience is like for my husband.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Hilary's Tree

2012-01-19T23:31:00.001-05:00

FRIDAY 55

Disquieted,

I restlessly wander the house
seeking calm.
Nothing engages me.
Nothing soothes.
At every turn I find
irritating,
invasive
distraction.

A whisper breaks through
to my spirit
suggesting,
inviting.
I open my door.

A shadow falls on my lips

shushing me.

The tree beckons me
with twiggy fingers
to find serenity
among her kin.

DA COUNT

The above picture was taken by Hilary of The Smitten Image. She shared it in a wonderful post all about trees. I was captivated and asked her if I may use it. She graciously agreed. Since childhood I have found peace among the trees. In the past couple of weeks I've been reminded and drawn back to the trees for a few different reasons. There's a rooted and interconnected quality to a forest that speaks to me. There is strength and endurance in the longevity of a tree. They hold secrets and whisper wisdom. Even in the leafless days of winter they have a power. Some may love the prairies. I love my forests and the trees in them.

Now You're Just Messing With Me

2012-01-18T22:42:00.000-05:00

In spite of recently reduced hours I do still have a job. When I work I work until 7:00 or 7:30pm depending on how long the last patients take. That means I get home at 7:30 or 8:00pm. My family generally prefers to eat dinner well before that and honestly I have NO interest whatsoever in cooking at that hour. I'm just hungry and want to eat when I get home.

Some nights when I am not at work I will cook enough to have leftovers for a night when I am working. This generally gets me complaints from Mr. Lime and Isaac about them not wanting leftovers. They have also been known to whine about the fact that I have not left them something fresh for the evening.

Other times I put food in the crock pot and tell them to eat when they are hungry. Most of the time they do so. However there are nights when I do this and they opt to ignore that food because it's not what they wanted or like tonight (I made a big salad, put meatballs and sauce in the crock pot, and left a box of spaghetti for them to cook before leaving for a 10 hour work day followed by an evening meeting) when they don't cook the noodles or touch any of the food I got ready for them instead opting for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

And don't even start me on when I have made my own lunch the night before, labeled it as such, and someone else takes it for his lunch.

Excuse me while I go bang my head against the wall.

Biology Class Indeed

2012-01-16T21:24:00.000-05:00

Isaac is 16. He is a smart kid who until recently never had to work for good grades. The end of last year we thought perhaps the stress the family had been under was accounting for grades that were less than stellar. It was the end of the year. We spoke to him but didn't give him any major consequences.

This year when school resumed, Isaac moved up to the high school. His grades remained significantly less than impressive. We spoke again. The grades did not budge. We enacted some meaningful consequences. He protested vociferously. I spoke with teachers during the week of conferences. Some noted he seemed to be engaged in attention seeking behavior in class. I had words with the manchild about his class behavior. We enforced consequences. Grades improved.

I did notice that it seemed to only be the teachers who were younger women where he was behaving poorly. Hhhmmm...

Friday he came home and we had the following conversation.

Him: Remember how my biology teacher Mr. B. is leaving the second half of the year?

Me: Yes.

Him: Well we got the new teacher today. I just want you to know my grade will be going from a 95 to a 75.

Me: (firmly) Oh no it won't.

Him: (smiling dreamily) Oh yeah...it will...the new teacher is a woman...and she is HAWT! I'll be lucky if I even pass.

Me: Oh, you'll keep your grade where it ought to be. You've proved you're capable.

Him: (whining) But Mom, she is so hot I am never going to be able to concentrate on anything she is saying during class.

Me: I'll tell her to wear baggy clothes, not comb her hair, blacken a tooth, and stop bathing.

They really have to start hiring women who look like this.

Food for Thought

2012-01-15T22:34:00.000-05:00

Monday in the USA is Martin Luther King, Jr Day. Plenty of folks will quotes excerpts from the I Have a Dream speech. Don't get me wrong, it's a wonderful speech, one of the greats in American history. Sadly, what often happens with the great speeches and ideals they express is we become inured to the message by repetition. Rev. King has been one of my heroes since I was in grade school and read about his adherence to non-violence for the first time. Today I thought I'd reference some of MLK, Jr's other quotes which perhaps are not as well known and offer them for consideration in light of current conditions.

The function of education, therefore, is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. But education which stops with efficiency may prove the greatest menace to society. The most dangerous criminal may be the man gifted with reason, but with no morals.
Martin Luther King, Jr., The Purpose of Education

When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, militarism and economic exploitation are incapable of being conquered.
Martin Luther King, Jr., Why I Am Opposed to the War in Vietnam

A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching
spiritual death.
Martin Luther King, Jr., Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?, (1967)

Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.
-- Strength to Love (1963)

The means by which we live have outdistanced the ends for which we live. Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men.
-- Strength to Love (1963)

I have consistently preached that nonviolence demands that the means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek. I have tried to make clear that it is wrong to use immoral means to attain moral ends. But now I must affirm that it is just as wrong, or perhaps even more so, to use moral means to preserve immoral ends.--Letter from a Birmingham Jail (1963)

Da Count-Da Team

2012-01-12T21:49:00.002-05:00

I've said it before, I'm saying it again. I work with some really amazing people. I've recently gotten over a truly hideous flare up with my lower back. During the worst of it I could not drive because we have a stick shift and it was making things worse to work the clutch. One of the girls in the office was kind enough to give me rides to work. Another one was sweet enough to come out of her way to take me in on our time off so I could get the treatment I needed to get better.

Business has been slow...increasingly slow...for way too long. The boss has been sending two different people home early whenever he thinks we can manage with reduced staff. It's been happening more and more. I volunteered to be put in the rotation for that so it wasn't always the same two people taking the hit to the paycheck and I figured I could manage loosing the kind of time I saw the two of them losing and if we spread it around they'd lose less.

This week the boss told us very reluctantly at the weekly staff meeting that he was not only taking hours away from each of us, he was going to take away entire days. It has gotten that bad. We all knew it was bad but none of us thought it had come to that. We were also all concerned about one coworker in particular because she and her husband are already on the edge economically due to his long-term unemployment. As shocked as we all were by our own reduced hours (and they were significant, I lost between a third and half my hours) most of us were more deeply concerned about her (well, and the owners, of course, because they are good and decent people who give excellent care and if they go under we are all SOL). I was sent home immediately that day but found out when I came in to work next that one of the other girls who also lost two days gave up a third to the coworker who we were all so worried about.

I am just continually humbled by the kindness and decency of some people I am privileged to know. I am grateful to be part of such a team of people and certainly hope this will be a temporary situation so we can all get back to doing our jobs well...together.

Voting in the Pri-meme-ary

2012-01-10T22:13:00.001-05:00

The Queen's Meme #106 ~ The Political Caucus Meme

Welcome To The Queen's Meme #106

7 Royal Questions on Tuesday

It's caucus time in the good ole' USA. We're trying to elect a Commander in Chief this year. Whenever I hear the rhetoric known as American politics, or business-as-usual, I try to remember that I'm really after someone of leadership and honesty. Hard to tell these days. Hard to tell.

What is the meaning of a caucus? By definition in U.S. Politics it is "a meeting of party leaders to select candidates, elect convention delegates, etc."

It's the "etc" I'm worried about. We seem to be talking about a lot of etcs these days. Can't anyone say what they mean and mean what they say? Bonnie Raitt said it best. They should listen to her.

For purposes of this meme, let's focus on these political forces: Mitt Romney, Ron Paul, Rick Santorum, Newt Gingrich, Rick Perry and Jon Huntsman. I submit these questions to be of vital interest and importance to the welfare of our country. And let's hurry.

By the time we all finish this meme, someone else could drop out.

Or move to China.

The first United Farmers of Alberta legislative caucus in 1921.

1. What topic would you like to see the candidates discuss that they haven't already discussed?

I'd like them to cover how quantum mechanics and general relativity find unity in string theory. Alternately, I think they should all swap their favorite recipes.

2. Which one of these men would run in and save you and your family from a burning building if he knew it would cost him the election?

Wait, first I need to know which one knows the Heimlich maneuver because I started choking when I laughed at the idea while eating pretzels that ANY of them would sacrifice themselves in such a way. Fortunately, I can self-Heimlich (that's what the kids are calling it these days).

3. Who is the best dressed candidate?

For what are they dressing? A debate? A romp in the Oval Office with an intern? Taking a call on the Batphone?

4. Who would be the best hostage negotiator?

My money goes on Pat Paulsen and he's been dead since 1997.

5. Who has the prettiest and most First-Ladyish wife? (look for the nails..)

I dunno but the only good thing about the potential of Michele Bachmann being elected (I just shuddered in horror even typing that) would have been seeing Marcus' inaugural gown.

6. Which one of these men would you trust with the nuclear code?

Oh dear God, my PTSD....the tics are starting again...

7. If I, Queen Mimi, invited one of them to Bloggingham for dinner, what should I cook and what question would you like me to ask him?

Invite Rick Perry. Don't cook at all just do some tequila shots and ask him to recite the Bill of Rights.

A Good Pair of Shoes

2012-01-08T20:19:00.000-05:00

Back in November, if you recall, I mentioned Van and Abbe who were running in the Disney Marathon to raise money for research for Leukemia and Lymphoma treatment. They ran last year and Van wrote the name of Abbe's cousin, who had been diagnosed, on his sneakers. When I donated this year I asked if he'd carry Aunt Bee's name since she had been diagnosed about a year ago. He very kindly agreed. A week ago we said goodbye to Aunt Bee. This weekend I found this in my email showing me her name on his shoes for the race he and Abbe ran yesterday.

Although I knew I made the request ad he promised to grant it there was something about seeing it that made a lump form in my throat. Then I remembered one of the poems read at my aunt's funeral was one she had written and I knew she'd be smiling down on Van and Abbe for every step of the marathon.

When my days on earth are done
To Heaven I hope to go.
Hopefully getting a pair of wings
And maybe a halo
Wings-maybe
"Halo," I don't know?
When you are sitting
And looking at the sky,
Look for the clouds
That are rolling by.
Maybe your eye will
Catch a special one.
It will look like a pair of shoes.
That will be me running along.
No halo!
No wings!
But a Good Pair of Shoes

Thanks, Van for giving my aunt that good pair of shoes. I hope they carried you well.

Friday 55-Yet Another Wacky Resolution

2012-01-06T18:46:00.000-05:00

She stopped making resolutions years ago.

It was futile

and led to failure.

This year she made a real resolution.

It would be attainable.

She would throw away any panties

that rode up, slid down, bunched,

or otherwise annoyed.

Life was too full of challenges

for underwear to be one.

Slingshot to the trash...

SCORE!

Wacky Resolutions

2012-01-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

I gave up making real resolutions years ago. Some call me a cynic. I prefer realist. Why set myself up for self-loathing with a bunch of promises I make to myself and break within days or weeks? However, I'm always up for some fun so let's make some entertaining resolutions. Here's how it will work. One person makes a resolution and the next person explains the ramifications in a twisted sort of way and makes his or her own resolution, which is in turn fouled up by the nest person and so on.... Like so...

Lime: I resolve to loose 20 lbs this year.

Susie: Congratulation on loosing 20 lbs. Unfortunately, it was because of a heavy lice infestation and had to shave all the hair on your entire body. I resolve to boost my textile business.

Logo: Congratulations on your booming business. I hear you've cornered the market on Rick Perry campaign t-shirts. I resolve to get up early every morning.

Suldog: Congratulations on becoming an early bird. I hope you enjoy your daily morning bowl of meal worms for breakfast. I resolve...

Got it? Ok. Go!

I resolve to exercise regularly.

Aunt Bee

2012-01-02T22:19:00.002-05:00

Aunt Bee was a special lady. She had an easy smile and a sparkle in her eyes and a ready hug that all let you know she was glad to see you. I don't think a person who knew her didn't like her. Although she'd been married and divorced she remained on good terms with her ex-husband. Although they had no children together and he lived a thousand miles away he called a few years ago when word got to him that she'd had open heart surgery. He wanted to send his best wishes for a speedy and full recovery. My dad, who is a self-described curmudgeon disliking my mother's side of the family, readily admits he always liked Aunt Bee. She was warm and welcoming and put people at ease. She didn't judge people and always found the best in them. She'd admit certain people had be unkind or even foolish or cruel but I don't believe she was capable of holding a grudge. When one cousin was left alone to deal with a chronically ill child after her husband ended the marriage citing the illness as his tipping point, the rest of the family became very cold toward the ex. Aunt Bee sought him ought at his son's wedding to give him her kindest wishes on the happy day. Most of us were grudgingly cordial toward him. She was utterly sincere. I think she made the wiser choice.

the tykes are my mom and uncle

Though Aunt Bee had no children of her own and though that was a keen pain in her heart she doted on all her nieces and nephews, all three generations of them. Long after the other Aunts and Uncles stopped giving out gifts to the hordes of children in the family Aunt Bee would seek each of us out at Easter to hand us a plastic egg with a couple of dollars in it. At Christmas we each got a card with the same. At other times of the year she'd sneak us some little treat amidst the crowd of the extended family. If she knew your favorites she was sure to find that just for you. Even as an adult, I knew any leftovers of her homemade buckeyes would be sent home with me because I loved them. Whether it was a plastic egg, or a card, a buckeye, or one of the countless afghans she made, whatever she was giving you was given in such a way to make you feel like you'd just received a big treasure that no one else had, even though you knew darned well all the other cousins had gotten theirs. She just was that good at making you feel especially loved.

aunt bee dancing with lovergirl

on the atv with diana

She had nicknames for each one of us. To Aunt Bee, I was Lovergirl. My mother once said she believed Aunt Bee came up with nicknames for each niece and nephew because she never had the chance to name a baby of her own. Aunt Bee embraced anyone we introduced to her as a new family member. She let them know she was not Mrs. So-and-so. She was Aunt Bee and to punctuate her point she winked and handed you a treat or gave you a hug. She was the "fun" aunt, the one who would sneak you candy when your parents said no more, the one who would take a young niece or nephew in the car and let them direct each turn she took, the one who, as someone described so well, engaged in moderately risky but life-celebrating activities with all her kids. She was the aunt who took us snowmobiling on a frozen lake or three-wheeling through the woods. She was the aunt who had a swimming pool back in the '60s and who taught all the cousins of a certain age to swim. When she had to move from that house she was still determined to have a pool so she sank a claw-footed tub in her backyard.

aunt bee and nana in the pool

She's one of the few people who really wanted to know the honest answer when she greeted you with a, "How are you doing?" It wasn't just a meaningless social nicety to her. And there was no sense trying to pretend you were "fine" when you weren't. She knew better when something was bothering people. She wouldn't leave your presence without listening to whatever the problem was, giving you a hug, offering some gentle perspective, and finding a way to make you smile.

ok, no sweatshirt here but her raucous joy is evident

Aunt Bee was a special lady. She wasn't one for formality and ceremony. She'd wear sweatshirts to all but the most formal events. She had work sweatshirts, church sweatshirts, lounging sweatshirts, and special occasion sweatshirts just for fun, including a Christmas number with two large, strategically placed jingle bells. She'd also sing and dance on cue just for giggles, always with a wink and a smile. One especially hilarious example was at her younger sister's 80th birthday party. The theme was '40s standards because the three sisters had all sung together in that era. A singer of standards was hired to emcee. At the end he called up the sisters to help him sing "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts." It started out properly enough but Aunt Bee got to the chorus and added her own set of ribald gestures as she continued to sing with a face that was the picture of innocence. The audience howled with laughter at her antics.

moderately risky but life-celebrating helicopter ride at age 72

Aunt Bee didn't let much hold her back and she didn't let other people's expectations define her (see also jingle bell sweatshirt, coconuts, and parasailing). She didn't care if "old ladies" didn't ride in helicopters or go parasailing. She was going to. The nieces and nephews sent her parasailing for her 80th birthday so we could return the favor of all the snowmobile and three-wheel drives. She loved every minute of the ride. She had been burned severely as a toddler and had terrible scars covering most of one leg and part of the other. She still wore shorts in hot weather. She was going to be comfortable and she wasn't going to worry what other people thought of her scars. Truth be told, I think her scars were part of her beauty. When my uncle lost his arm just below the shoulder in a quarry accident neither one of them regarded it as a problem once it was clear he would not die from his injuries. They both just got on with it rather matter-of-factly, not some emotionless stoicism but just a sense of doing what has to be done. I credit their examples with part of my own recovery after I demolished my left arm and the doctor wasn't going to make any guarantee of how much use I'd regain. I knew from them that even if I got no use back it wasn't going to be the end of the world. Though I am thankful for what I regained and do not take it for granted.

Aunt Bee had dreams and knew how to make them come true. She wanted to have a vacation place in the mountains. She bought a lot adjoining the lot my grandfather had put a little trailer on. At first she tent camped. Then she had a teardrop trailer that just barely fit two people. Next came a cozy screened-in single room with wood stove and a loft. The outhouse was in the back. Finally, she got a mobile home and built a deck off the back. The mountains were her heart's home. Just as my grandfather found solace there from his pain, Aunt Bee found the calm, healing, and peace she sought. I understood the power the place had for her. It's where I found a lot of healing as well. The last conversation I had with her she let me know she was not happy about being in assisted living for the few weeks she'd had to be there for her own safety and well-being. She looked me in the eye and said, "I just want to go to the mountains and be with my bears."

a friend and me with a bear captured near aunt bee's

She was heavily involved in working as a volunteer with the Pennsylvania Game Commission in their research about black bears. Over the years she helped trap and tranquilize scores of black bears and help collect other information on the bears before they were released. She had names for all the bears that regularly visited her yard and it was quite clear that they knew her as someone to be both trusted and respected. She was known to tenderly feed them from her hand and to fearlessly shoo them off her deck if they got "fresh." Birds and chipmunks were her other favorites and she spent much time feeding and enjoying them as well. Any children who came to visit were encouraged to learn how to sit still and feed the chipmunks. When we exchanged names for the family Secret Santa every year the only thing she ever asked for on her list was birdseed or peanuts for her animal friends.

Aunt Bee was creative and expressive. Whether it was performing in a musical group with my grandfather in their youth, or crocheting afghans for each family member, or cooking something wonderful, whatever she put her hand to was beautiful and filled with love. She was happy to teach you if you wanted to learn or share a recipe if you asked. In her last few years she discovered writing as a way to cope with the grief of loosing my uncle. Most of her stories were about the animals she loved at her place in the mountains. She only hesitantly shared her stories because her younger sisters had mocked the simple and unpolished quality. When she finally trusted me with them I told her how much I loved them. They were charming and they revealed more of her heart. Most importantly they eased her pain and that was what mattered most. I entered into a pen pal correspondence with her and she shared family stories I had never heard. I regarded each one as a treasure.

matriarch welcoming calypso as the newest member of the clan

Aunt Bee was such a special lady. She was my favorite aunt. Our family has lost its matriarch and we are poorer and less colorful for it, but how blessed to have had her for 89 years. Today we said goodbye to Aunt Bee. In a move I am sure has her smiling, we did not wear traditional funeral clothes. In honor of her love of wearing sweatshirts we each donned our own favorite sweatshirt.

2011- Year of the Roller Coaster

2011-12-30T23:12:00.002-05:00

*image from favim.com

Please buckle the safety belt and pull the bar down firmly to your lap until it clicks. Keep all appendages inside the car for the duration of the ride and secure any loose personal belongings.

It should come as no surprise to you that I enjoy roller coasters...at amusement parks...as a lifestyle, not so much. This past year and a significant portion of the previous year were complete roller coasters. At times it seemed like a combo pack of roller coaster and spinning teacups (which I loathe entirely, they make me feel like vomiting)

The year opened with chronic mystery illness and a new scary health event Oh yeah, baby! Throw those hands up and scream your head off as the coaster car hits the first drop hard! Heading into the curves we have outrageous arguments with car AND health insurance companies playing the "Not my problem" game. We have a series of twists, loops, hills, and drops the entire school year never knowing what to expect with Calypso. Throw in a few more big hills with perilous drops with each specialist we see and one who turns out to be just plain evil. When you think you're about to pull into the straightaway at the end we're going to surprise you with one more upside down loop by threatening graduation. Just to keep the view interesting all along the way let's add one person loosing a Driver's license, another dropping out of college, hitting a deer, a car crapping out permanently, and just so the year could get its last dig in...a death in the family this week.

Lord have mercy, I want off this ride! Enough! Really! Just let me go sit on a park bench with my head between my knees for a few minutes.

I stagger to the bench and assume the position. Moaning, I am sure I'm going to toss my cookies just when I am nudged by someone sitting next to me who offers a bit of refreshment. If this past year was one of seemingly unrelenting trials it's also one when I was given so much encouragement, love, and support from people and places I never expected. If the trials were the heart-stopping drops and nauseating twists of the roller coaster, friends were the exhilarating high points or the soothing straightaways. From one friend who is a licensed counselor and came to teach some anxiety managing techniques to us all, to all the friends who helped Mr. Lime get where he needed to be for six months of not having a driver's license, to those of you who kept in contact and provided encouragement and laughs through dark days, to Susie and those who responded to her request on my daughter's behalf, I do not know how I would have survived without the kindness and love of faithful friends.

Then there were the joyous times spent with friends in contexts not related to crisis at all. Getting to meet Susie and Logo in Seattle was such a wonderful trip. The provision of a free airline ticket, Mr. Lime's idea that I go, having vacation days left to have enough time, all of it worked together to make for a fantastically memorable time I never would have thought possible just one year ago.

And now I am coming off the time spent with my Trini family. Far too many years passed without us being able to see each other but what pure joy it was to spend the holidays together and make memories that will last a lifetime. I have hope that much less time will pass before we can be reunited again.

Of course there are also the blessings within the family. Seeing Calypso well again is high on the list, not just well enough to get through a regular day but strong enough to get through days involving heavy labor on a daily basis. She's also come out more confident in her abilities to endure and the provision of God as well as more sensitive to folks around her who are suffering in various ways. Though she had the exquisite pain of friends who left her in her darkest hour she also has the joy of knowing the ones who endured are as true as they come. Mr. Lime has clean bills of health and seems to be well. He has a new openness to my online friendships for which I am grateful. Isaac has grown (Boy howdy, has he grown! He hit 6'2" before his 16th birthday!) in ways I did not expect and has begun taking some initiative or at least helping out more willingly now that he's the only Limelet left at home. Diana is learning some hard lessons from some of her own decisions but seems to be handling them.

I have to admit, most of those good things would not have been as evident or occurred at all if the trials hadn't come so the roller coaster had its purpose. I can be thankful for that and I am, truly.

Nonetheless, my adrenals are a bit taxed and I would not mind at all if 2012 were the year of the carousel. Just let me ride along and enjoy the sights to rest a bit and I'll grab for the brass ring when it comes around.

*image from here

The Endurance of Friendship

2011-12-26T20:41:00.002-05:00

My childhood was not one marked by permanence of relationships. I won't go into the details but there was a lot of fluctuation due to my parents' divorce and the resulting introduction of new people who frequently did not hang around very long. My own childhood friendships were a little tenuous as well. Our family was regarded with a certain degree of suspicion so at times other kids were hesitant to become friends or once relationships were established their parents may have decided to put the brakes on. I learned never to over-estimate my value in someone else's eyes.

My years in college were when I finally found friends who I truly believed might stick around for the long-haul. I'm glad to say I was right since all these years later I am still in contact with a few college pals. My time in Trinidad introduced me to people who felt like kindred spirits in a way no one else ever had. I fell in love...hard.

It was extreme circumstances which necessitated our departure from Trinidad. I couldn't deny the logic in leaving but I still left kicking and screaming. Each visit there afterward resulted in me spending a significant portion of the return trip to the US in tears. My husband never quite understood why my reaction was so strong. When he finally worked up the courage to ask I told him it was because I was terrified that the friendships I had formed there would die due to the physical distance; I did not know how to love people long distance and imagining the loss of such nourishing relationships was exquisitely painful.

In the first few years after our return, there were two friends with whom I regularly exchanged letters. It was reassuring that they'd take the time to write because I knew that was not really the norm for the culture. I feared somewhat with my friends who were not inclined to keep in touch. I was encouraged though when I'd go back to visit and be received with the same affection and warmth that had been shown when I lived there. In fact, a couple friends specifically told me they were sorry they were not good about writing but they hoped I knew I was always in their hearts and there was always a space in their homes when I wanted to visit.

I've been blessed to have a few different Trini friends come visit me in the US. Each time was a complete joy. Being able to lavish back on them some of the love they gave us when we lived there was a delight. There was a bit more confidence given to me that they'd spend the time and the expense to come to my house whether it was only for the day when someone was passing through or if they came for a week or more.

Nineteen years have come and gone since we moved to Trinidad. Our closest friends from there have just spent a week with us over Christmas. The husband was last here 11 years ago and this is the first time his whole family has come with him. There was rejoicing at the reunion, lots of laughter as we reminisced and made new memories, and tears on cheeks other than my own when they left. Though I am not happy about the separation that will now resume I am deeply grateful for the time we had together and for the proof that love and friendship can endure and deepen in spite of time and distance. It is a gift I never dared imagine existing before and one that only time could have revealed.

Happy Hanukkah

2011-12-26T00:06:00.000-05:00

And for those friends celebrating the eight nights...

Christmas Lime

2011-12-25T02:11:00.001-05:00

We gone lime all day wit we friends. Once yuh belly ready to burst yuh could sit back and enjoy a bit of parang and Christmas Calypso wit we.

This is the award winning parang group from the high school where our friends' daughters attend. A traditional parang group goes from house to house like a group of carolers only instead of at night they begin before dawn singing to announce the birth of Christ.

After a parang band has sung its announcement the members hope for certain treats from those they've sung to.

Rum is self-explanatory. Ponche a creme is more or less arum spiked eggnog sort of drink.

We allagree this is our favorite silly Trini Christmas calypso. We will bring out de ham today....along with plenty of traditional American dishes.

Merry Christmas, all yuh!

They're Heeeeeere...

2011-12-20T23:44:00.000-05:00

....and my heart is filled with gladness.

They aren't so sure about this "cold" but there's a whole lot of warmth to share amongst friends.

Christmas Goodies

2011-12-19T20:16:00.000-05:00

I'm waiting for Mr. Lime to return from the airport with our friends. In the meantime.....

These are just some fun things I've found around the interwebs that make me smile.

This one is from PostSecret.com. I quite agree. Let's not politicize the holidays. Let's just celebrate them.

This is the kind of senior citizen I intend to be. Who's with me?

Suldog will especially like this one.

This is like...so wrong, you know. (but perversely funny)

If I got this tree I'd consider that the gift! Actually, I probably have enough books in my to read pile to build this myself. Maybe I should do that next year.

Here is a video I have posted in past years but it still makes me giggle every time I watch it.

Spring Cleaning in December?

2011-12-18T15:43:00.000-05:00

(I first posted this way back in December of 2006 when I did weekly Trini Tuesday posts. Since probably only one or two of you who read me now read me back then I think it's safe to do a re-run. I picked this post because I am currently trying to get the house in order before our friends arrive tomorrow night. It seemed fitting.)

Spring cleaning you ask? Well, ok, not really. But for lack of a better description it is what goes on in Trinidad during December. Is it Springtime in Trinidad? No. It is however, time to get ready for Christmas and this means some serious cleaning.

Now when we spring clean, we may throw open the windows for some fresh air to clear out all the staleness of a house locked up all winter. We scrub surfaces we normally ignore. We wash curtains. We do all those little tasks that build up over time but are a bit too much to do more often.

In Trinidad the yearly cleaning is quite a bit more intense. Part of it is due to the effect of the tropical sun. Houses are painted, inside and out. Curtains are not merely washed, they are replaced. The intense sun at 11 degrees above the equator has a way of fading paint and causing curtain fabrics to deteriotrate rapidly. As people go about their Christmas shopping, the paint and fabric stores are as full as any other store.

Every corner of the house is swept out and scrubbed. Most houses are surrounded by walls or fences. Even the surrounding walls are scrubbed. Furniture may be re-upholstered. If certain fixtures have been needing to be replaced, if at all possible, people will replace them now. If an addition has been in the process of construction during the year, now is the time to make a heavy push to complete it.

Anyone not engaging in the cleaning/repairing frenzy has their housekeeping and maintenance skills called into serious question during one of the many times friends and neighbors drop over to share a bit of Trinidad Black Cake and Ponche a Creme (traditional seasonal food, more about that in the future). 'Oh gosh, gyal! But I was at Flora's house an' as yet she ain't even bought fabric fuh she curtains!'

The activity rises to a crescendo on Christmas Eve night. Families will stay up into the wee hours, not assembling toys they have bought, but making sure every last bit of dirt has been removed, every hidden nook has been cleared out. Once satisfied that surgery could be performed in any room, folks will finally collapse into bed and dream of the tropical Christmas morn with all it's fresh bright color.

A Sense of Freedom in Trinidad

2011-12-16T11:50:00.000-05:00

Our dear friends expect to arrive here on Monday night. I'm getting very excited. In addition to giddy anticipation I've been ruminating on my time in Trinidad. The coverage of GOP debates and the blathering about how the USA is the greatest nation on Earth (which makes me want to gag) always gets me to thinking about the beauty I see in other cultures and how blind ethnocentrism really ignores all of that. I am glad to have born and raised in this country as it has afforded me incredible blessings that so many others in this world cannot even imagine. I want good things for my nation and countrymen but I do not believe that patriotism needs to come at the cost of recognizing the good in other cultures.

One of the things that always amazed me was the openness and acceptance of difference in Trinidad. Ethnically its people are roughly 40% of African descent, 40% East Indian descent. The remaining 20% includes significant Portuguese, Chinese, and Syrian groups along with a good smattering of other Europeans. Religiously, there is a majority of Anglicans (followed by a number of other Christian denominations) but a very large Hindu population, a significant Muslim population, and the local syncretic sect known as the Spiritual Baptists. Looking at that break down might make you think each group is entirely separate and distinct from the other but there is a great deal of intermarriage among the ethnicities; it's to the point that there are specific terms for various ethnic blends. The terms are in no way derogatory, merely descriptive. A common question upon meeting someone is, "What's your mix?" It's more or less assumed that most people have more than one ethnicity.

The mingling isn't only among the various ethnic groups but even among religions. At one point we had neighbors whose family was quite mixed. The husband was a practicing Muslim. The wife was a practicing Hindu. The children attended Catholic school. A common boasting point for Trinis is that they have more public holidays than any other nation (I never researched the veracity) because each religion on the island has at least one holiday recognized by the government. On such holidays neighborhoods and friends readily celebrate each other's holidays in a secular but neighborly sense. It's how we were introduced to the beautiful lights of Divali Hindus set up and some of the tasty Eid al-Fitr treats Muslims enjoy after fasting during Ramadan.

In the US we get all worked up about children being exposed to religious ideas in school. Oh, the shouting matches and righteous indignation that occurs over this state sponsored indoctrination on one hand or the impingement of religious freedom for others. It's all really ridiculous. Quite honestly, I think the Trinis seem to have a much better handle on this than we do. Public schools there do offer religious instruction classes but they are all entirely voluntary. If Christian, Muslim, Hindu, or Spiritual Baptists families want their children to participate in corresponding classes they may. If they don't want to they don't have to. As long as parents approve, children can participate in classes from religions other than that of the family. Imagine that, no one is coerced, no one has to pretend faith doesn't exist, no one gets bent out of shape. There is respect all around. Isn't that what freedom is really for, so everyone can follow his or her conscience without interference?

Another area of freedom I enjoyed was the relaxed expressions of warmth among friends. People in Trinidad touch each other. They aren't afraid they might get cooties the way folks in the US are, especially the Northeast. Then again, Trinis are absolutely fastidious about personal hygiene so you're less likely to get cooties there. I have a whole post on how I feel about the wonders of physical contact in Trinidad. You can check it here if you want.

One thing I was surprised by was the freedom I felt in being a homemaker. Mr. Lime and I always agreed that I'd be at home while the kids were small. We both wanted that. It was not imposed on me. In the US I have always felt pressured to defend that decision, as if I somehow do not pull my weight in society or I am just taking it easy or somehow being untrue to all the feminists who worked for my freedom to have a career. None of that in Trinidad. And that's not because women don't have career there. Granted there are a higher number of women who stay home but it's also not hard to find very successful career women. Our friends who are coming next week are and example. Petal has worked at the Ministry of Agriculture doing research and field work for the entomology division since her children were very young. She was sent to the Netherlands to gain her Master's degree. She is a very bright, highly educated, capable woman. As far as I know she hasn't had to defend her choices either.

I don't want to leave the idea that Trinidad is some Utopia because that's not true. The entire reason we were there was due to a certain lack of educational freedom for kids who had even minor learning problems. At the time we lived there students took a test when they were about 12. At that time the Common Entrance Exam determined whether or not students would receive any secondary education at all, not college....junior high and high school. Failure meant no school unless their parents could afford a private school. There were some very serious societal consequences as a result of the numbers of students not afforded education beyond elementary grades. This situation has since changed and now all students are guaranteed education through high school.

Ok, so I have rambled on and I hope I haven't put you all to sleep. In my mind it boils down to this, neither the US nor any other nation has cornered the market on creating a flawless society but I really believe there is something we can learn from each other that might just help us each grow toward a better version of ourselves if we are willing to be open.

Nailed

2011-12-14T22:02:00.000-05:00

One of the sites I like to peruse on occasion is Awful Library Books. They highlight books in local libraries that desperately need to be weeded but have somehow escaped that fate. Examples might include a book on the latest advances in home computing that describes the wonders of a Commodore 64 or great careers in switchboard operation.

This evening I found this gem and just had to laugh. Go take a moment to check it out. It's one small paragraph with several pictures. Then come back and I'll explain my amusement.

Whistles....checks fingernails....rocks on feet while waiting.

Ok, now here is where I out Mr. Lime. Once upon a time, back when the limelets were wee things, our church had a Sunday night kids' group for school age children but nothing for the pre-kindergarten set due to lack of volunteers. I was already helping with another group so Mr. Lime took it upon himself to lead the pre-schoolers so they could have their own fun time. He was responsible for puppet-time, story-time, and craft-time.

Fortunately for him, snacks were provided by a lovely grandmotherly type of lady. Unfortunately, he was on his own for craft-time. I gave him some suggestions but he preferred to forge ahead boldly with his own notions. Some of his ideas proved quite successful, others not so much. One truly terrified me...when he announced his plan to put power tools into the hands of 3 year olds.

The project was to be a jointed stick puppet made out of tongue depressors. The limbs would be attached with paper fasteners. He intended to have the kids drill the holes for the fasteners...with a cordless power drill. I told him he was out of his mind. He assured me he'd keep his hands over the hands of the little kids. I still envisioned disaster.

At the end of the club time all the kids lined up beaming with pride over their personally drilled stick figures...and still in possession of all their own original digits and eyes.

Meme-y Christmas

2011-12-13T12:57:00.000-05:00

The Queen's Meme #105 ~ The How Many Christmas Meme

Welcome to The Queen's Meme #105

7 Royal Questions on Tuesday

The How Many Christmas Meme

This meme is so easy it's ridiculous. And that too.

Enjoy.

1. How many Wisemen were there?
According to tradition or historical record?

2. How many reindeer pull Santa's sleigh?
I'm still trying to figure out how the Bernoulli principle applies to reindeer and a fat guy.

3. How many gifts are under your tree?

I was told it was the thought that counted.

4. How many classic holiday movies can you name?
What would you like me to name them?

5. How many stockings are hanging from your mantel?
Mr. Lime thought it was inappropriate for my stockings, and bras, and panties to be hanging there.

6. How many Christmas trees do you have?
How many do I need?

7. How many days are in the twelve days of Christmas?
Depends how many times you cross the international date line during that period of time.

Train of Thought

2011-12-11T22:47:00.001-05:00

I am REALLY relieved that Mr. Lime finally got a deer so we have a freezer full of venison for the year.
I can't believe I will soon have a kid old enough to drink alcohol.
I can't believe when I was her age I'd already been married for nearly a year.
I'm really glad the guy I married is handy enough to fix a shower faucet that leaks incessantly because the perpetually slimy stall and bathroom floor was really disgusting and I have enough things to spend money on these days without having to hire a handyman.
Handymen make me think of the Red Green Show, which I first saw in Trinidad in 1992. I find it utterly hilarious that I was introduced to such distinctly Canadian humor while living 11 degrees above the equator. It definitely enhanced the humor of the show.
I can't wait for my friends to arrive from Trinidad and yet I'd like a little more time to get ready for the visit because....
Back pain REALLY sucks hairy donkey balls and it is messing with my ability to get everything done I need to do before my friends and Christmas arrive. Hell, it's messing with my ability to do ANYTHING at all.
Having an anniversary and a child born in December makes for a busier month than it is already by default.
Have I mentioned the suckwadageness of back pain during such a busy month?
I am thankful for coworkers willing to help me get through the day at work and a boss who treats me for free and for every increment of improvement to counteract the suckwadageness.
I like a cappella music. (This random thought brought to you by my random flipping through the channels)
I am NOT a fan of extra twangy country music. (This random thought also brought to you by random channel flipping)
I'm glad the house is done being decorated.
I wish I had my shopping and cards done.
I cannot believe I have lived in this house for 8 years and yet I am working on my THIRD address for the same location. If I wanted a new address I'd sell this house, pack up all my stuff and haul it to a new location, thank you very much.
It only took the post office and various utility companies and banks and credit card companies and doctors offices and our extended families to all get our last address right and all the mail delivered when and where it was sent. I wonder how long it will take this time.
I'm cold because we turn the heat down at night. One of the benefits of having out friends from Trinidad come visit is we will be keeping the house warmer since the standard there is quilts on the bed when the nights plummet to a frosty 70 degrees Fahrenheit and we don't want them to die of frostbite INSIDE our house.
I think no matter what they will find the toilet seats cold so I will warn them of this regional hazard since I now know what a horrendous shock it is after another Trini friend told us.
At least the bathroom will be dry and non-slimy, thanks to Mr. Lime.
And they can enjoy a big pot of curried venison thanks to him.
Thanks to THEM, Diana and Calypso should each have their own tawah and dabla for frying up roti to go with the curry. Ssshhh...don't tell. It's a surprise!

A Crappy Gift

2011-12-08T21:34:00.000-05:00

It truly is a miraculous season and blog fodder in terms of weird gift ideas is flowing freely....like a cow on laxatives. Speaking of bovine scatology I have another bizarre stocking stuffer for all you shoppers looking for unique and memorable gifts to give.

This was plopped at my feet via an email from a friend. Today's gift idea is PooPooPaper.

It's paper made from animal poo. The site explains that several species of large, herbivorous mammals have very inefficient digestive systems so their poo is very heavy in fibrous material. Some might suggest anyone wanting to turn poo into paper might have shit for brains but apparently the inventors of PooPooPaper wanted to find an alternative, ecologically sound source for paper other that wood pulp. Maybe they have shit for brains, maybe that rationale is a steaming pile, but maybe...just maybe they have fertilized the seeds of genius which have blossomed into a sound business.

The site allows you to shop according to item type such as social stationery, greeting cards, photo albums, and other items. If you prefer you can shop according to which animal's excrement was used to produce the paper. My favorite part of the site is where they sell Poo-litical PooPooPaper. There you can find elephant poo and donkey dung derived papers all with appropriately scathing commentary on the respective parties represented.

After the assurances of odorless products and explanations of the process and rational I only wonder why they haven't begun to produce rolls of toilet paper.

Slow Day

2011-12-07T23:27:00.000-05:00

It always amazes me how I can work 11 hours, get home 5 hours AFTER my son and when I get home, eat, and want to use my laptop that's when he needs it for the next 3 hours to type a paper....but I digress....

It's been slow at work lately. I hate when it's slow. I'd much rather have work to do than have to go looking for things to do. A few months ago I undertook a big overhaul of the filing system to streamline things for everyone but I'm done with that and now the thumb twiddling happens when we aren't busy. With out crew it can be a little dangerous to leave us idle for too long. We are a creative bunch and at least two of us are in touch with out inner 12 year old boys. That can spell trouble.

Today in between waiting for the beep and taking care of the few patients we had I generated several boredom alleviating activities....or at least signs that the schedule is too slow.

Painting an entire wall with a white-out and highlighter mural
Emulating PeeWee Herman with the scotch-tape (you only need to watch from 2:35-3:09 in the video)
Alphabetize the bills in the cash drawer by serial number
Create a full line of paper clip jewelry
Do this with sticky notes
Make wigs out of the paper shredder remnants
Using the desk phone as a bola
Recreating the pointilist works of Georges Seurat with the holes from the paper punch

Then I thought of staging Chiropractic Office Olympics and all the events

The phone book shred (I am the current defending champ here)
Chair races
The monitor toss
The enhanced high jump (enhanced by attaching electrodes for the electro-muscle stim machine to the competitor and giving them a high voltage jolt)
File stacking followed by hurdling the stacks
Patient launch (using the hydraulic adjusting table as a catapult)
100 meter spider stomp (we are in the woods and seem to be regularly invaded by arachnids)

Of course, on a slow day, there's also the benefit of having time to generate a blog post idea or two....now if I could just work on computer access at home in order to execute the ideas...

Feel free to add some of your own ideas to either list.

Stocking Stuffer

2011-12-05T21:53:00.000-05:00

You just never know what sorts of interesting ideas you will come across when you pick up a magazine NOT targeted for your particular demographic. Our office receives the Men's Health Magazine. If you've never read it just imagine Cosmopolitan for men. Today I was thumbing through it looking for material for another project and found some blog-fodder. Way in the back, where all the miniature ads are (you know the ones...if you were reading a comic book it they'd be for x-ray specs, sea monkeys, and Charles Atlas bodybuilding), I found a gem...or perhaps it was jewels...family jewels.

I discovered that for the low, low price of $14.99 all the gentlemen out there with personal moisture problems can take care of their annoyance with Fresh Balls. Don't believe me? Check it out.

According to the FAQs on the website it is all natural, has no taste (I kid you not) and can be applied as often as desired. Under the testimonials one guy says he has gone through 22 tubes of the stuff already. I'm thinking he either has the sweatiest balls around or he just reeeeeeally likes applying Fresh Balls.

This Christmas along with festive, shiny balls on the tree all the men out there can have Fresh Balls without the frosted look baby powder gives. So be sure to ask Santa to stuff your stocking with Fresh Balls!

...Beep...

2011-12-04T20:10:00.000-05:00

As part of my job I am required to make daily confirmation calls for appointments. As such I get to hear an absurd number of voice mail messages. Most of them are pretty standard but some of them stand out. Allow me to share.

Hi, this is Mary. I'm REALLY sorry I'm not available. I promise to call you back as soon as I can if you leave me a message.
On the surface it seems pretty standard but the apologetic tone and earnest promise make me wonder why she seems to have such a guilt complex about phone messages.

Hi, this is Jack and Jill, we're probably home but just screening our calls in case we don't want to talk to you. You can leave a message but if we don't return it you probably shouldn't bother calling back...ever.
Alrighty then, so much for social conventions. On a positive note, it's one less person I have to call, right?

Hi, this is Jane. You may not like leaving messages but I like hang-ups even less so just leave me a message when it beeps.
What if I have a hang-up about leaving messages?

I like smiling. It's my favorite. What's your favorite?
Literally, that's all the voice mail says. No identification. No request for a message. It tempts me to respond with, "My favorite is when grown people sound like they have brains in their skulls instead of like they were abducted by some weird airport dwelling cult."

Revelation 3:20 says Behold I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with with me. Please don't miss this opportunity to accept Christ's invitation...etc, etc...(insert mini sermon you think may use up whatever space is on voicemail) . Please leave a message and consider reading God's message in the Bible.
Father, forgive me for the violent thoughts I had waiting to be able to leave my message.

This is Susan, I can't come to the phone right now but if you leave a message with your name and number I'll return your call as soon as possible. I bid you a good day and good thoughts.
Good thoughts? Good idea. I needed the reminder.

At one point during my call list I wondered aloud how many minutes of my life have been spent waiting for the beep. Ironically, we had a very math oriented patient in the waiting room who overheard me and decided this was a question he had to answer. According to him I spend between 45-60 minutes a week waiting for the beep. I think I preferred when it was a rhetorical question.

B-U-S-T-E-D

2011-11-30T20:34:00.001-05:00

Setting: The front desk at my office. The phone rings around 4:30pm as it is beginning to get dark and the rain is pouring down.

Me: ABC Chiropractic. This is Michelle. How may I help you?

Isaac: Yo, Mom, I turned in all my work this week, can I go bicycling with the guys? (Understand in recent weeks we've enacted the rule that we check his grades online each week and if there are any zeroes for work not turned in there are no social activities for the following week, including biking with the guys.)

Me: I am not at home to check the website and verify the homework situation, plus it's raining, plus it's nearly dark.

Isaac: Pleeeeaaaase....

(At this moment patient steps to the desk to checkout.)

Me: I need to put you on hold, I have a patient to take care of, okay?.....Okay? (hearing no reply I opt not to push the hold button in case he thinks he's been disconnected. I turn to the patient) Ok, When do you need to see the doctor again?

Patient: Thursday evening, please.

Me: No problem.

(I turn to the computer to make the appointment and hear a muffled voice in my ear)

Isaac: (thinking he is on hold) Dude, my mom is so ridiculous! She doesn't want me to bike in the rain, like I'm going to melt. Oh and you know we haven't had white bread in the house for like TWO YEARS! And we always have to eat fruit and vegetables and they are all organic. She makes me go to the chiropractor all the time and if I get hit in a game she wants me adjusted because (in mocking voice) "Your spine is going to get messed up." And this whole homework rule is really pissing me off. Can you believe I'm not allowed to go mountain biking tonight because I didn't turn in a 5 point assignment last week?

(I stifle guffaws as I schedule the patient and take payment)

Patient: (smiling quizzically) What's so funny?

Me: My kid thinks he is on hold. I am hearing him tell his friend how mean I am making him eat right and turn in school work and generally awful things like that.

Patient: (laughing) You're terrible.

Me: (nodding) Call me the Great Oppressor.

Isaac: (demandingly) Mom? Mom? So I can go right?

Me: (excessively sweetly) What's that, darling son who hates to eat well, get adjusted, and who thinks my rules are so unfair?

Isaac: (stunned) Uh..what?

Me: Well, it seems you're somewhat unhappy about something.

Isaac: (worried) How much did you hear?

Me: (with great relish and stifling chuckles) Every single word.

Isaac: (suddenly conciliatory) Uh, ok, so I guess I won't be biking. See you at home.

Me: (smugly) Glad we have that all sorted out.

Running for Research

2011-11-29T20:49:00.002-05:00

I've been amazed over and over again by how great my blog pals are. You are talented, thinking, generous people who have been such a network of support and encouragement to me and to others in our own spheres of influence. I've been so encouraged and amazed by the kindness shown me in the last year I wanted to try to pay it forward a bit by trying to help another blog pal in some of his efforts.

Van Kapeghian and his fiancee Abbe Meck have been in training to run in the Disney Marathon on January 8, 2012 and the Goofy Challenge the day after. They are doing this in order to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to support research and treatment of blood cancers.

Now don't let the names Disney and Goofy make you think this is an easy thing. A marathon is 26.2 miles...and any marathoner will get all over your case if you round down to a mere 26 miles. I know. Mr. Lime has run two marathons. After the first one he said, "If I ever say I want to do that again, shoot me." When he said he wanted to do it again I asked, "Where is your ammo?" It's no small matter to run a race like that. MONTHS of training go into it. Oh, and the Goofy challenge....that's another half marathon, 13.1 miles for the math impaired, the VERY NEXT DAY. Are you kidding me???? The thought of that much running makes me want to cry....like a baby....for hours...sucking my thumb....rocking in the corner.

Why are Van and Abbe doing this? Well, Abbe's cousin Alayna was diagnosed with Leukemia almost an year and a half ago. She's been going through treatment all that time and is now in remission. Better than that, she has been inspired to start running and swimming to keep up with Abbe. Here's a half minute thank-you video she posted for Abbe and Van.

How cool is that girl? Does she not rock the known world?

Now Van and Abbe already impress me for being willing to train hard, run hard, and work hard to raise the money for research. They are caring people who give to their family and community in so many ways. In case you still don't think they are cool enough to consider, last year they ran just the marathon and Van dyed his hair purple (his whole head, not just a stripe like I did!) because it's Alayna's favorite color. Oh yeah...and at the end of the marathon he dropped to his knee and proposed to Abbe who accepted. Here's the evidence.

All kinds of awesome in action

Van and Abbe run for Alayna. Van wrote her name on his running shoes. There are people in my world who have also been touched by leukemia and lymphoma. A dear friend and coworker lost her son to lymphoma. You may recall how our office banded together to get her through an anniversary of his death. Perhaps you recall one of my Aunt Bee stories or recipes, well...she was diagnosed with Lymphoma about a year ago as well. She has opted not to treat it because she is 89 and would prefer to live her remaining days feeling reasonably well rather than undergoing treatments which will make her feel completely rotten. Van has very kindly said he'd write Aunt Bee's name on his shoes this year and carry her along in spirit. I also have a blog pal Phaedrous who has been fighting Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma for over 15 years. He's got a zest for life that puts most folks I know to absolute shame. These are all people who matter to me. I would not be surprised to learn several of you have been touched by someone in your lives who has had Leukemia or Lymphoma.

So anyway, now that I've run a marathon with words, which is about the only kind or marathon I am capable of, I'd like to ask a favor. As of the writing of this post, Van and Abbe are only at 58% of their fundraising goal. They have until December 16 to reach their goal or they wind up paying it out of their pockets. Abbe recently found out the store where she is employed will be closing permanently. So that kind of hits the wallet hard by itself. Van works like a dog as a self-employed computer/coding/webpage designing guru. These are terrific people who have a wonderful sense of community and service and generosity. If you are able and willing I'd be ever so grateful if you'd consider making some small donation to their cause, even if it's only $5 because it all adds up (but hey, I know no one will mind more than $5) You can do so here. It's easy and painless, unlike running a marathon. If you're not able but still want to do something I'd love if you'd spread the word and share their link. If you're not able or willing, well that's your choice and I'm not here to guilt anyone. I still thank you for taking the time to read this post.

Oh Deer!

2011-11-28T20:19:00.000-05:00

Monday was opening day for deer season in Pennsylvania. As always, Diana, Isaac, and Mr. Lime were in the woods looking to put meat in the freezer for the year. Diana has had an amazing record from the first year she went hunting at age 13. Her first year out she bagged an 8 point buck in the first two hours of opening day. Every year but one since then she has gotten a deer first thing in the morning on opening day. The one year she did not, she had a shot but passed it because the deer was heading toward Isaac and it was his first year out. She wanted him to have the opportunity to take the shot. She has had well-seasoned lifelong hunters praise her prowess and bow in admiration.

This year was different.

She didn't even see a deer until late in the afternoon. She says it was between 100-150 yards away and she saw the butt first. In her words, "It was a deer ass as big as a cow's! It was the size of Jamaica!" She waited for it to turn so she could get a chest shot and was rewarded with seeing it had a rack every bit as impressive as its rear. She took a shot and saw the buck drop.

Then it got up and ran.

Moments later it appeared behind her. She took another shot and watched the buck flail around. Then it walked under her stand. It was driven out. She shot it a third time and it dropped like a stone. She waited a few minutes and as she began to walk up to it the thing popped up and ran off into a deep thicket and through a swamp through a private yard, across a road, into the next thicket, and over a hill. She and Mr. Lime tracked it until dark and never found it.

The freezer remains empty and the huntress is bemoaning the one that got away...as she has a taste of how frustrating a process hunting can be.

That's My Girl

2011-11-27T21:43:00.000-05:00

*image from here

Calypso and I were watching TV over the holiday break when a Kay Jewelers ad came on and ended with the annoying jingle, "Every kiss begins with Kay." Calypso then began a bit of a rant. "Every kiss begins with blood diamonds. I don't ever want a diamond, not even when I get engaged. I'll know I have the right guy when he proposes with a cuckoo clock in his hands!" Yep, my girl wants a cuckoo clock as a promise of future wedded bliss. Yep, this makes me smile inwardly with pride.

Diana stated her intention of going out on Black Friday and asked if I wanted to come along. I gave a very emphatic NO because told her no bargain exists that could make me want to brave the insanity and greed that is the retail feeding frenzy of Black Friday. She hastened to explain she had no intention of shopping. She just wanted to mess with people by finding scarce items at WallyMart to load her cart with and drive people out of their minds while she paraded the items before eventually returning them to shelves in the wrong department. I have to admit I was tempted by that.

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-22T20:28:00.000-05:00

My sentiments exactly. I'll be back next week. In the meantime, I wish those celebrating a wonderful Thanksgiving. And to those in other places where it is not a holiday, please know I give thanks for the friendships formed. Peace to you all.

Da Big Count

2011-11-21T23:10:00.000-05:00

It's almost time for my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving! The last year and a half or more has at times seemed like an unending series of trials but in the last couple of months the winds have changed, for which I am very grateful. Either way though I have so much to be thankful for and even though I try to regularly engage in Da Count (counting the good stuff I've got rather than bemoaning what I lack) I think it's good to put together a list of things from the past year as a way to look back and remind myself. Even in a year of trials I find there is just so much to be grateful for so here goes.... It is by no means exhaustive and it's in no particular order.

1. The current physical health of my family. There are no broken bones, mystery illnesses, debilitating conditions. That all by itself is just HUGE and I am breathing a very grateful sigh of relief.

2. A stronger, healthier relationship with my dad then I would have dared hope for even a few short years ago.

3. A mom and stepmom who give generously of themselves in different ways to support their kids and grandkids when it matters most.

4. Truly amazing friends, both in 3D life and online. I am overwhelmed by the love sometimes.

5. Medicine to make my kid better, dispensed by a professional, compassionate, capable doctor after strong of incompetencies and abuses by so many others.

6. A new clothes dryer that plays a sweet little tune at the end of the cycle instead of sounding like it's tumbling around a pack of rabid cats for and entire cycle.

7. A husband who is handy enough to be able to fix a lot of things around the house so we don't have to be paying repairmen all the time.

8. A son who is discovering he can be competent in the kitchen.

9. Daughters who are striving to make wise choices now that they are out of the nest.

10. The chance to meet Susie and Logo and to see Seattle.

11. Having a job. Big bonus that I feel like I contribute to people's well-being, have bosses who provide a decent environment, and have coworkers who mostly work well together and look out for each other.

12. Flannel sheets. What? It's been cold lately.

13. A free, used refrigerator so now I don't have to deal with puddles on the kitchen floor or disgusting mold around the door seal.

14. An invite from Diana to come visit for the weekend, just so we can spend time together.

15. My camera. It was a long year and then some saving up for a new one. I thoroughly enjoy having Boom-boom at my disposal.

16. The promise that beloved friends will be here in less than a month.

17. Music and books. They provide a place to escape and imagine.

18. This space where I get to create whatever I want and that so many of you come visit and share the ride with me. Thanks you for whatever you've shared here, whether it's been a few kind words, some laughs, some tears, or some desperately needed support in a variety of forms during dark days.

I am blessed. I am grateful.

I'd love to know what would make your lists this year.

Secret Santa

2011-11-20T22:46:00.000-05:00

Again, I asked Suldog to forgive me. I am not advertising for the other holiday that comes AFTER our mutual favorite of Thanksgiving. However, Mr. Lime was handed an envelope last week at work. He was told it was from his Secret Santa. He protested that names hadn't been exchanged yet. The person giving the envelope repeated firmly, "This...is...from...your...Secret...Santa." He brought it home and we found tucked inside two tickets to Radio City Music Hall's Christmas Spectacular and a gift card with some spending money. We were both quite surprised by this generous gift. The tickets were for the show yesterday....so ya know, since it was a gift generously given by an anonymous benefactor we didn't really have any say in the date and we are not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth we took the tickets and headed off to NYC to see the show. We had perfect late November weather so the walk from Penn Station to Radio City Music Hall was quite nice. Of course Boom-boom came along with me.

After the show we were hungry. Mr. Lime was ready to start chewing buildings and would have eaten just about anywhere but was nice enough to tell me to pick the restaurant. I have no interest in eating at some chain that has the same food in 150 locations across the US. We also needed it to be reasonably priced. This place looked interesting and affordable for two...as far as NYC prices go. So in we went.

The Stardust Diner has singing wait staff. Given that it's located in Times Square just off Broadway it makes sense. It also makes for a lot of fun. Each of the wait staff takes turns singing a song in between waiting tables. They are really hopping in there so there's no rest. The non-performing busboys are no slouches either. It may be a touristy sort of thing but it seemed uniquely Broadway and I'd recommend it. They do pass around a bucket and request tips for the wait staff to be able to continue taking voice and acting classes as they all aspire to leave the restaurant and make it to Broadway. Yep, we threw a tip in the bucket. I couldn't resist, they gave good service, with a smile, and they entertained us too.

On the way back to Penn Station we wandered across this street performer. We caught the very last bit in his act. He and his partner had a big build-up to it and were very funny guys. So what do you think, will he clear all seven people?

Nobody moves! Nobody gets hurt!

Ta-da!!! He made it. Yeah, I put some money in...erm....well.....uh....when they walked around with their bag for collecting I waved a couple bills from inside the crowd and the partner instead pulled out his waistband for me to tuck it in there. I laughed like a loon, tucked it in there, and was treated to....ahem...an unexpected dance.

So yeah, it was a terrific day all the way around. A very early Secret Santa simply gave us one more thing we will be giving thanks for this week.

Friday 55 & Da Count-They're Dreaming of a White Christmas

2011-11-17T23:28:00.000-05:00

FRIDAY 55

Meesh, we coming from Trinidad in December,

we could stay by you?

YES!!!!!!!

What do you want to do while you're here?

We want to see a white Christmas...

I'll put in my order!

Sit by a fireplace...

It will crackle!

And shoot guns.

After I got done giggling

I promised plenty of ammo and targets.

DA COUNT

With apologies to Suldog for talking about Christmas before Thanksgiving is here. This week I am counting the blessing of having dear friends I haven't seen in 9 years come visit us next month. Dean has come to see us alone before but this time his entire family will come as well. In truth they are more than friends. They are our family. Any doubt on that matter should be allayed if you recall the post where I gave tribute to our Trini Mum when she left this world and the one where Dean made it possible for me see her funeral. I am just overjoyed to have the chance to have them all visit us and try to lavish back on them in some small measure the love they gave us when we lived in Trinidad. I can't wait to throw my arms around each one of them.

Overheard at Work

2011-11-15T22:18:00.000-05:00

I've been at my current job at a chiropractor's office for over a year and a half. Before that I was a patient there for MANY years. In all that time I've heard certain phrases over and over but until I was speaking to the coworker who is the Barry to my Jeff (our respective inner 12 yr old boys) I didn't really consider the double entendres I hear multiple times a day. Consider with me...

Don't let me pull out/Don't let me push in. (When the doc is performing musculoskeletal and neurological tests by asking the patient to resist pressure applied to limbs to determine areas of weakness.)

Let me have you face down. (Telling the patient which way to lay on the table to be adjusted.)

That was juicy! (The doc's interjection for when a patient's joints are especially locked up and finally release during an adjustment....though locked up joints sounds like someone had their contraband confiscated.)

I want you to start working on the balls today. (We offer therapeutic exercises using big exercise balls.)

Tell me when it starts to tingle. (We also offer electro-muscle stimulation for pain reduction. The patient has to tell us when they feel things so we know how to adjust the settings for them.)

Of course just when I got my own immature sense of humor under control at the end of the night I had to go looking for the doctor. I almost burst out laughing when he walked out of the therapy area with his shirt half off (understand he is always impeccably groomed and well-dressed and maintaining a professional demeanor...he's rolls his eyes at the crazy women in his employ and walks away when we start acting up) and giving himself therapy on his shoulder.

On the Hunt

2011-11-14T21:50:00.000-05:00

I went grocery shopping on Sunday because my cupboards resembled Old Mother Hubbard's. I thought the house was now well-stocked with food. Isaac had no school today so I left directions that he make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner to be ready by the time I return from work (after 8pm tonight so PLENTY of time).

I returned home to find Mr. Lime sitting with a bowl smeared with spaghetti sauce remnants, which was a good sign. He informed me Isaac was out with friends and that I should not expect the spaghetti to impress me. Hey, I was impressed that the boy made dinner with out me being present to coach him through it. As long as it was not a burnt offering or only half-cooked I was not going to become a food critic. I warmed up a bowl and ate his first attempt at a solo dinner.

Isaac and his pals soon returned noisily. The crew of boys immediately began to look for food. There is something both amusing and comforting in the predictability of their motivations. Isaac found the carton of kumquats I left on the table and asked his buddies if they wanted some. Yes, we had kumquats. I never had one before. Heck, I never even saw one before so when I found a small carton of them at the store I decided we'd try them. Last night I couldn't convince anyone to taste them with me and half the fun is trying something new with other people. Tonight, the three boys and I munched the kumquats and declared them weird but edible. I get a kick out of being the mom who has the "weird foods." These guys have tried all sorts of food they never had before when they've come over to visit. Venison, quinoa, kale chips, all sorts of ethnic foods, and now kumquats.

Kumquats were no match for adolescent male hunger though so they began scouting for more food immediately, not unlike sharks on the prowl. They went through a bag of corn chips and a jar of salsa in minutes and still the empty space was not filled. Then one lifted the lid on the spaghetti pot and brightened as he asked, "Can we have some?" I smiled as I handed them all bowls and forks. They each inhaled one bowlful. The first guy lifted the lid after the first round of snarfage and gave the excitedly spoken quote of the night, which made me split a gut laughing.

"Dude, it's perfect. We each can have a third of what's left and then they don't have to put any in the fridge!"

As if somehow leftovers are contrary to universal law and they'd be doing me a great favor.

I think I need to go grocery shopping again...

Friday 55-A Veteran's Solace

2011-11-10T20:43:00.000-05:00

*Today's 55 was first published 4 years ago but I'm posting it and the explanation again with a few edits. Thank you to all who have served with honor. It is my deepest desire that you all are at peace, that our leaders more carefully consider in which arenas you are engaged, and that those deployed may return to the arms of their family sooner rather than later.

FRIDAY 55

Haunted by the beaches of Normandy,

he seeks solace in the familiar woods.

The currents in his life flow unchangeably

as the footpath beckons another way.

The breeze whispers through the treetops

like a mother soothing her child after a nightmare.

Away from the world's wickedness,

no evil molests him.

Peace descends

with falling leaves.

My maternal grandfather was drafted near the end of World War II. He was married and had two very young children at the time. His service was ended when he was wounded in combat and he lost part of a foot. At times he sought solace in the woods. At other times he sought it in alcohol.

My grandparents owned a little vacation place "in the mountains" about an hour north of where I live now. That place was Grampop's refuge. He and Nana often took my brother and me there on weekends, giving my single mother some time to herself, especially in the immediate aftermath of my parents' divorce.

On the hikes we took together, my shattered little girl heart found peace as Grampop pointed out wildlife, geographical features, and spun tales of the Lenni Lenapes who once lived in the area. Nana and I often giggled along the paths lined by wild berry bushes as we filled our caps full of the ripe fruit. When Grampop's health deteriorated to the point that he could not walk more than a short distance he sat still as a statue on the back deck, hands extended and palms up in zenlike repose, as songbirds came to take seeds from his hand. He had taught me very young how to get a chipmunk to eat from my hand but only he could coax the wild birds.

I know he was broken by the things he experienced after being drafted for WW2. I know he searched for healing in a whiskey bottle and I know people he loved suffered as a result. I know he had a need to create and dream and he suffered when he was derided for spending time on pursuits no one saw as gainful. I know he found peace in the woods and he led me to it when he took me by the hand on long walks. I know he fed my soul when he encouraged me to create and dream whether it was gainful or not.

I am grateful that he performed his duty when asked. My mother prevented me from seeing the worst ways he grasped for peace. I am so glad she made room for me to be exposed to the healthy ways he searched for it.

Again, thank you to those who have served honorably. I wish you all peace in your daily lives.

Slice of Lime-Slice of Pizza

2011-11-09T22:57:00.000-05:00

Perhaps you recall this series of especially flattering shots from February when I went through a 10 day nutritional detox. If you don't, heck, even if you do, take a second to remind yourself of what I look like when forcing a powdered sewage shake down my own gullet. It's a great look. I'm sure all the supermodels will soon be working this look.

Believe it or not I subjected myself to this process and all the attendant liquid horror again. Voluntarily. Yeah, some people are gluttons for punishment but if you didn't already figure that out about me then I guess I should thank you for holding onto delusions which paint me as being somehow sane.

Wednesday was the first day I could anything I wanted. I made a beeline for this 12" onion and green pepper pizza. It was done to perfection. It made me very happy.

So very happy. (I'm easy that way. Especially after gagging down the swill shakes. Honestly, the only way I could do it was to mix the swill and chug the whole thing in one long continuous gulp. It was determined by observers that I had missed my calling as a competitive beer chugger. They found it vastly entertaining to watch me slug a pint of this crap back as quickly as I did and then chase it with a pint of water after it, all in under 10 seconds. They're easy that way. But I digress...)

I did not share my pizza. It was my reward. I took my time and savored every last bite of it.

Memescellany

2011-11-07T20:59:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I twisted a meme so Queen Mimi and Empress Lime are allying again to bring you...

The Queen's Meme

7 Royal Questions on Tuesday

The Queen's Meme #101 ~

The Miscellaneous-Queen-Needs-Sleep Meme

1. All your dominoes just fell down. Who pushed them?
This guy

2. Have you ever danced in a car?
Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

3. What is your horoscope reading today?
According to Madam Lime's Chocolate Zodiac M&Ms are in the second house of Chocolate Ice Cream with Chocolate Chips rising so it's a great day for a sundae.

4. The iPhone just gave birth to the next generation of phones. What would you call them? The i______
iDon'tcare

5. Do you believe Justin Bieber should take a paternity test?
A test??? He didn't know about the test. Good thing he has a study hall right beforehand so he can cram for it. Wait. Cramming may have caused the problem....ya know, when he was "dancing in the car."

6. Occupy Wall Street. Occupy this. Occupy that. What would you most like to occupy?
Hugh Jackman....duh!

7. What is the last groovy thing you did?
Put the needle in the groove and shook my groove thang!

Thanksgiving Comes First

2011-11-06T20:54:00.000-05:00

A number of years ago, my swell pal Suldog began a campaign for stores to stop with the drive toward Christmas beginning earlier and earlier each year. This year he has an article published in the Boston Herald. Please go read it, but not until you read and comment here first. (No, I'm not being a total narcissist. Suldog would make a similar plea if things were reversed and he'd have some crazy long parenthetical side as well. I'm just mimicking him because that is a form of flattery and he really is a very swell pal of mine. HIS WIFE [the all caps are how he denotes her on his blog, and hey look....a parenthetical within a parenthetical!] is also super swell.) Let's face it, when Christmas displays start cropping up in stores alongside the Back to School merchandise it's way too freaking early. That's just obscene. Something has to be done.

Now Suldog made his plea for holiday orderliness and folks to join him back in October. Part of me wants to say I was waiting for Halloween to pass first because really Halloween comes before Thanksgiving but mainly I am just way behind on all manner of things. (The dust bunnies in my house have evolved into dust gorillas and the stack of ironing....Lord have mercy...) If memory serves, he also tagged me in some sort of meme thing way back in September. I'll get there eventually. One can't rush things.

Which brings me to my point, and I do have one. To everything there is a season. September is for getting back in the school groove. October is for my birthday, changing leaves, and Halloween. (And may I just say I don't mind snow in its proper season but when we get 8 inches dumped on us BEFORE Halloween it's enough to make me want to petition whoever is in charge of that. Not that I think it will get me any more than perhaps a thunderbolt at my impertinence.) November is for Thanksgiving and December...D-E-C-E-M-B-E-R...is for Christmas.

There is a rhythm to the year and November is for raking up the last leaves from the yard, making sure everyone is ready for the cold weather, and giving thanks. (Unless you're Canadian, then you do all this in October. Nonetheless, Thanksgiving still comes BEFORE Christmas.) The clocks have changed so the evenings get darker earlier and they shorten throughout the month. The various critters that hibernate are getting ready to do so. Life slows down. The slowing pace should allow for some contemplation and give an opportunity to pause and be grateful for whatever good the year has brought or if it was full of trial and tribulation at least to be glad for having survived it. (I believe that gratitude for mere survival was an element present in the first Thanksgiving.)

So allow me to say it along with Suldog and all the other folks who have joined him in his effort. When you see displays in stores or hear music on the radio or see specials on TV (I nearly had a conniption when I saw the Grinch Who Stole Christmas being aired the other night and my family knows I just won't tolerate Christmas movies until after Thanksgiving.) I'm not being a Grinch about Christmas. I just don't want Thanksgiving stolen away from me, especially this year. It was a hellacious year but 1)we survived and 2)the blessings we've received are so worthy of being noted and savored in gratitude.

Dona Nobis Pacem

2011-11-03T20:19:00.003-04:00

Several years ago Mimi started the Blog Blast for Peace as a way for folks to all say in unison that our greatest desire is for peace. Blogs give a good way for folks all across to globe to express that wish together. Although there are nations that block Internet access in a variety of ways it is still a channel through which there seems to be a greater freedom of movement for ideas. We've all heard about how Twitter and such facilitated so many protests across the Middle East or allowed for news from eyewitnesses to other events over the years to get out when authorities had silenced official news sources. It's just an empowering forum for folks who refused to be stifled when it really matters.

No doubt there will be lots of reasons people give today for participating. Aside from the obvious desire for a more peaceful world, which seems like such a broad, general, Miss America sort of thing sometimes, I want to put a face to why I want peace. Though we could touch on wars that are occurring all across the globe and how to end them I think we are better served by preventing them in the first place. Consider the quote in the graphic above as you read.

As you know I went to Seattle back in September. I did all the typical touristy things and had a wonderful time. I bought a bunch of stuff, some of it was for me and some was for other people. As I was looking for some small thing for my girls I came across a gentleman who etches names on grains of rice and then places them in small glass vials with colored liquid to magnify the rice so it can be read. The vials are turned into pendants or key chains. I thought they were kind of cool and unique little souvenirs and the price was right so I decided to get one for each of my girls. When I wrote down their names for the man he immediately looked at me with a sly grin and remarked, "Greek names." (I don't actually use their real names here on the blog) I smiled back and said yes because we are Greek. We continued to chat pleasantly. I paid and bid him a good day before leaving. Later I decided I wanted one for myself and that it would read Lime on one side and Michelle on the other.

I returned to the shop where this gentleman works and made my request. We greeted each other and talked a bit during which he revealed he was Turkish and had come to the US 13 years ago not knowing any English at the time. As he worked I asked how exactly he got into doing such tiny work, noting he did it without a magnifying glass or even glasses on his face. He smiled and said he had been an electronics engineer in Turkey. I asked if he hoped to return to that field one day. He nodded and said he had tried but since 9/11/01 it had become impossible because his specialty was electronics engineering as it related to air traffic control. He shared how, once he had learned English, he had applied for a job and progressed in the hiring process only to be told he should withdraw his application due to being from a Muslim country. As he told his story it was related without any trace of bitterness, just very matter of fact.

At this point I began to well up as I considered how bright a mind he must possess to be in that field and how he had been reduced to carving the names of tourists on grains of rice. I said I was so very sorry for the discrimination he had faced in this country. He shrugged and replied, "I did not come here for myself. I came for my daughters." Then he beamed as he told me the eldest was now in medical school. I was dabbing my eyes quite a lot by then.

We continued to talk as he worked. When he was done and I had paid I took him by the hand, looked into his eye as I told him, "I wish only blessings, prosperity, and peace for you and your family. I am sorry again for the discrimination you've had here but at the very least, in this place Greeks and Turks can be at peace with each other."

I participate today because no one who is willing to transplant themselves for the well-being of their family and then work hard to learn a new language in order to apply his or her skills should be met automatically with suspicion. Greeting a stranger with immediate suspicion is no way to build understanding which leads to peace, but it is the way to create bitterness which leads to conflict. To this man's credit he seemed to have none but one could understand if he did.

It's an Emergency!

2011-11-02T20:41:00.000-04:00

This particular item sits at work on the side of my desk where patients check out. Before I say anything more about it think about what your immediate reaction would be. Would you push the button without a moment's hesitation because curiosity would be too overwhelming? Would you reach out then pull back before asking, "What happens if I push the button?" If I told you to go ahead and see what happens would it embolden you or make you more leery than before? Would you refuse to push the button unless you knew for certain what the result would be? Would you ignore it completely?

It's been an interesting informal psychological experiment watching the various reactions to this emergency button before people know what it will do. I get as much of a kick out of seeing who reacts in which way as the brave patients get when they push the button. It's daily entertainment.

So are you dying to know what happens?

Are you?
.
.
.
.
.
.

It makes a sound like this.

Now..how many of you hesitated before clicking the link and how many forged ahead boldly?

I'm pretty sure I didn't have to ask how many of you laughed. I'd like to think that would be unanimous because if you've been coming here any length of time you must have some sort of appreciation for absurdity. Watching patient reaction has been another interesting set of observations as well. The overwhelming majority laugh or smile, some push it every time they come in, but there are a few who look at me as if I am not quite right and ask what it means. I just tell them it's for all their yodeling emergencies because you never know when you need a good yodel....or a chuckle.

If you need one of your own you can get it here. I'm hoping they soon come out with a Tarzan yell model.

72 Days

2011-10-31T22:35:00.000-04:00

If you know anything about me you know I don't give a fat rat's ass about celebrity news, unless, of course, it has to do with the ever-delectable Hugh Jackman. When it comes to celebrity I tend to think people ought to at least have some actual talent as a performer, artist of some sort, athlete. Better yet they ought to have contributed something of lasting value to humankind like a Nobel Laureate has.

The Kardashians meet none of my criteria. For that reason they only barely register on my radar as even existing. Even though I try to avoid all mention of people like them unless I loved under a rock it would have been hard to miss the hooplah surrounding the recent nuptials and now impending divorce after all of 72 days. Mind-boggling. I won't go on an extended rant about how this nonsense grabs headlines over what's going on in Libya, or Iraq, or Afghanistan, though if it distracts from some of the ridiculous circus that is the jockeying for position among Republicans I guess that is something. Really, some of those people could compete with the Kardashians for lack of substance....but I digress.

Seventy-two whopping days. Are you kidding me? I'd joke about having socks older than that but 72 day old socks are still pretty much new in my book.

Seventy-two days? It takes longer than that to go from planting a seed to plucking a ripe and juicy tomato from the vine. Kim may be quite a lil tomato but in 72 days she ain't even a ripe one yet.

The life span of bed bug can be far longer than 72 days. So had the young couple honeymooned at a less than well-kept hotel that bloodsucking creature Kris whatshisface may have shared a bed with could still plague him even after the divorce...so could the bed bugs, for that matter.

In 72 days in 1972 the Uruguayan rugby team that crashed in the Andes went from healthy athletes to cannibals. Looks like it only took 72 days for these two nitwits to eat each other alive too.

Other things lasting longer than this marriage:

The smell in the fridge when we moved into this house and found a piece of fermented bologna in the back of one of the shelves
The fresh breath from a curiously strong Altoids mint
The bad breath from the garlic knots at my favorite Italian place (not even Altoids can neutralize it)
The span of time Mr. Lime went as a college freshman without changing his bedsheets
The resulting ringworm infection
New car smell
The span of time I've gone without dusting the house
The number of days I could not bend over and tie my own shoes during the end of pregnancy with Isaac (What? I'm only 5'4" and he was 9.5 lbs!)
Iron Butterfly's Inna Gadda Da Vida seems like it lasts longer

Your turn. What do you think has lasted longer?

It's the Great Candy Shakedown, Charlie Brown

2011-10-30T20:41:00.002-04:00

I first posted this back in 2005. Since only about 3 of you were reading me back then I think it's a safe rerun.

Ok, now forgive me as I strap on my old lady gear. I'm in my rocking chair on the front porch, flowered dress, apron, stockings rolled down around my ankles, gray hair in bun, bowl of candy in my lap, wagging my bony finger at the young 'uns coming across my porch for Halloween treats. Back in my day, when we went trick or treating, or "spookin'" (rhymes with book) as they call it where I grew up, we only went to the houses of people we knew. We ALWAYS said 'trick or treat.' People had to guess who we were under our costumes and we had to perform a trick (sing a song, tell a joke, do something funny or clever) before we got to have sweets and goodies dropped into our bags. Sometimes we were invited in for hot cocoa or popcorn balls. We also made our own costumes and said "thank you."

Flash forward to 1994 when I moved to this area. A neighbor warned me in September that I had better start stocking up on candy now. I asked why and was told our neighborhood was the most popular one in the county for trick or treating. Then she told me she spent over $50 a year on Halloween candy to pass out. I thought she was out of her mind. I bought maybe 6 bags of candy, thinking this would prepare me for heavy traffic. I was blissfully unaware of the madness that would ensue.

The first sign of trouble was when I noticed the entire block out decorating all day. I don't mean just putting a few carved pumpkins on porches or hanging skeleton pictures on front doors. I mean elaborate displays. Graveyards sprang up in front yards. Zombies, corpses, skeletons, witches, and various other monsters came out en masse. Landscaping changed dramatically as spiderwebs, severed body parts, and dry ice machines created eerie scenes. Spooky music filled the air. People actually took the day off work to set up!

We ate dinner, got the kids costumed and the doorbell rang. It was a bunch of kids I did not know who stuck their hands out expectantly. "Ok, Happy Halloween." I said with a smile as I dumped a few goodies into their bags. No "thank yous" as they dashed to the neighbor's house.

My kids were pretty small and a little freaked out by some of the more gruesome decorations in the area so Daddy the Protector walked them around the neighborhood while I stayed at the house to hand out candy. The next sign of trouble was when I had a line 20 deep waiting for candy. Crimony! I was new to the neighborhood, I didn't KNOW 20 kids that lived there. Why were parents letting their kids come to me? I could be an axe murderer or have laced the candy with drugs for all they knew!

Our house was a duplex. The guy who lived in the other half looked at my pathetic store of candy and asked if I had more inside the house. I told him no and he shook his head laughing. NOW, I understood. I had been handing out candy for 15 minutes and had about 12 pieces of my 6 bags left and now had a line that was 30 kids deep. When I plopped the last candy bar into a kid's bag and let the rest know I was cleaned out I thought there was going to be a riot! It was like a bunch of refugees pressing a UN truck carrying water and rice. The neighbor asked me to help pass out his candy since I had been wiped out. For the next two hours I sat as an endless stream of costumed kids paraded across our porch like a conveyor belt of items in a factory line. I was astounded.

Apparently every rural kid in the county gets dropped off in that neighborhood. There were easily 1000 kids running through there. I caught on and the next year started stocking up on candy in September. I also figured out, all on my own, what every one else in the neighborhood does too. We buy dum-dum, smarties and other cheap stuff for the hordes of kids we don't know and save the candy bars and good stuff for the kids who live in the neighborhood.

We lived in that neighborhood for 10 years and moved to an outlying area 8 years ago. This neighborhood considers it busy if 6 kids knock on the door. Tonight I'll be at work but the two neighbor kids will stop and be allowed to take fistfuls from our candy bowl which will later be demolished by those in this house. Of course, since nature gave us an early trick of 8 inches of snow over the weekend I hope all the little ghosts and goblins have costumes that fit over snowsuits.

Dear Patients

2011-10-26T21:31:00.004-04:00

Just to make clear, I do like my job and the overwhelming majority of patients are pleasant and easy. There are always a few though who make life...erm...interesting. Time to express some of the things I'd like to say but might get me fired if I did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Mrs. A,

I understand you are in pain. I understand you desperately want it to be relieved. I know. I can see it in your face and in the way you walk. I am completely sympathetic. I've been in that kind of pain. It's miserable. That said, being a demanding pain in the butt is not going to make your actual pain in the butt feel any better any sooner and it's not going to increase my sympathy for you. Bitching at me because we aren't open when you want to come is not going to cause us to change our hours. Ranting because I can't schedule your exam during the hour when there are two other exams already scheduled isn't going to change the situation either. Shocking as it may seem, we have other patients who are in pain too and they also require care. Amazingly, most of them seem to manage to maintain some respect for folks around them in spite of their pain.

Pained to say it,
She Who Controls the Schedule

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Mr. B,

You seemed like a jovial sort when you began coming to our office a couple weeks ago. We always like the patients who display a sense of humor. We especially appreciate the ones who do so with a sense of decorum. You quickly devolved from a fun and jokey fellow to a complete creep. Did you know there is a particular chiropractic adjustment for the tailbone during which the practitioner has to insert his finger into the patients rectum in order to reposition the coccyx? Should you EVER make a crude joke about me being Greek and the sexual preferences you assume I have as a result of my ethnicity I will ask the doctor to demonstrate that procedure....while wearing a glove made of coarse grit sandpaper.

Disgustedly,
A Greek Bearing a Special Gift Just for You

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. C.,

Your wife came to us in pain last week. She was pleasant and appreciative of the care she received and noted early improvement with amazement. There was some confusion about the coverage your insurance provided. After re-verifying it was determined that you had a little less than you expected but still decent coverage over all. I realize times are tough economically. I know what it is to live on one income when you're raising a family. Nonetheless, it pissed me off that YOU called to cancel YOUR WIFE'S appointment telling me rather harshly, "She stays at home with our 4 kids and I'm the only one working and that's too much money to spend." Do.not.start.with.me. If she has four kids to take care of she is working. If she is in pain then you spend some money to make her well. If you're not willing to invest in your wife's welfare I sure hope you pay for some birth control so she doesn't have more kids to take care of while you let her fall apart. If she opts not to avail herself of care that's one thing. If you unapologetically decide for her that she's not worth it that's altogether different. Not cool.

Liberatedly,
One Who Would Cut You Off In a Heartbeat

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr D.,

You never actually came to the office. You only got as far as the first phone call. No, I can't schedule your first visit for the first hour of the day. As I explained, the doctor starts exams in the second hour in order to get through the initial rush of established patients. It's also in your best interest so he can devote the time necessary to you during your exam in order to give you the best possible care. No, we will not schedule you an hour before our regular hours. Do you approach everyone in your life as they should bend completely to your will and convenience? Good luck with that.

Glad you decided not to schedule,
Making Friends and Influencing People

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Mr. E.,

I like you, really, I do. You're smart and have a good sense of humor. You're personable and pleasant. Recently you showed a side of yourself that was quite a surprise to me and really pushed my buttons. You came in ranting about those damn poor people and how they just need to go get a job rather than asking for help. In case you haven't read any newspapers or seen or heard reports on TV or the radio or the Internet unemployment is pretty high. There are a lot of people who would like to work but there aren't jobs for them. There are others cobbling together multiple part time jobs with no benefits to make ends meet and praying they or their kids don't get sick so they have to miss work AND pay doctor bills while taking a hit to the paycheck. I managed to keep my mouth shut as you ranted about your taxes going to pay for people not working.

When you started in on how the fraction of a percent library tax grinds your gears because people should pay to use the library I couldn't stand it anymore. Do you have any concept what a library is for? Apparently not. Let me remind you a well-informed populace is the cornerstone of a democracy. Insuring that everyone, regardless of personal resources, has access to information makes sure that everyone has the ability to be well-informed and make educated decisions. Granted lots of people choose to remain ignorant, case in point right before me, but it should not be for lack of opportunity due to lack of resources. Remember those poor unemployed people you were griping about? Lots of them use the library to try to find jobs because it offers free internet access for finding job listings and submit online applications, which is increasingly required by many hiring employers. Remember the non-English speaking immigrants you were bitching about? Yeah, the library also offers space for English as a second language classes so they can learn to speak what you think should be the only language ever spoken on American soil. I suggest you go visit the library and inform yourself about its role in the community and the services it offers before you open your mouth again.

Oh, and explain to me again why you are on disability. You're still able to walk around and converse. Why don't you go get a job and stop expecting me to contribute to your well-being with my taxes.

Intelligently,
Librarian Wannabe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr F. and Miss G.,

I'm saving the best for last because I want to end on a happy note. Nonetheless, I could get in trouble for this. The two of you don't know each other but you should. You each make me smile so much with your good cheer, senses of humor, and great outlooks on life. That must be part of how you each got to be in your 80s and still going strong. I've never been one to play matchmaker because I think people are better off making their own choices in that regard but the two of you would be so great together. Mr. F. I know you are glad to live with your son but I know he gets on your nerves because he is afraid of your zest for life. You just want to stay active so you don't get rusty and musty. Miss G. is zesty too and you'll find approval from her as well as a partner in crime. Miss G. You're a dear, dear lady who never has an unkind word for anyone. I know you're just a little bit little lonely sometimes though and I think Mr. F. would be a great companion for you. He could keep up with your energy and spunk. I'm sending the two of you to an adventure camp. Have a great time!

Mischievously,
Yenta

P.S. Send me a postcard.

Where We Speak of Zoo Animal Wall Paper and Boys Baking

2011-10-25T21:35:00.003-04:00

When you're 16 years old and nearly 6'2" in height there is a certain indignity in going to the pediatrician. Having one's heart and lungs listened to by a person with Poo Bear on her scrubs and a plush toy clinging to her stethoscope seems a bit ridiculous. It was all too much for my wheezing, gasping son. God forgive me, this was too hilarious a sight to miss with my camera phone. He swore he was comfortable but I find it hard to believe.

Once proper airflow was well on the way to being restored he perked up enough to start playing this nebulizer mouthpiece as a kazoo, which led to a game of "Name that Tune." He stumped me on this one. I took a video of him jamming out on the breathing tube but my phone won't let me send it anywhere. Then he started doing other things with the mouthpiece that we just won't even mention here. Just trust me. It was funny. Aside from preferring the boy a nice healthy pink color as opposed to blue, I like how his brain works when it's receiving oxygen.

I returned him home for the remainder of a sick day and went into work late. I came home to a warm-from-the-oven plate of melty, gooey goodness produced by Isaac. If this is what happens when he is deprived of football practice I think he needs to quit the team and sign up for a pastry class. Oh yes I do!

Oh, Canada

2011-10-24T21:29:00.024-04:00

We only got to Canada for one day. We are already making plans for my return trip to Seattle and more time spent in Canada since we didn't get to see nearly as much as we wanted. What we did get to see was pretty cool though. I like learning about the history of a place so we went to Ft. Langley, which is the oldest settlement in British Columbia. That white building there is the storehouse and the oldest structure in the province.

One of the things that surprised me was how many items on display were just out in the open and allowed to be handled by visitors at will. Since Ft. Langley was settled as part of the fur trade there were piles and piles of pelts in the storehouse along with other things. I had a lovely chat with a lady in period costume who interpreted the fort to us. As someone who does that at a local historical site, I enjoyed comparing notes with her on East Coast vs. West Coast and U.S. vs. Canada across a number of aspects.

Beaver hats were all the rage in Europe at the time of Ft. Langley's settling. They had one I could model. I think I looked more like the female version of Slash than a settler. Vague resemblances to rock stars aside, I really liked how accessible the place was in the way it presented itself. We had a bit of a chuckle over the introductory movie that gave an overview to the place. It was not a typical snooze inducing documentary (this coming from someone who likes documentaries). It was kind of cheesy in an endearing sort of way but it was also engaging and I could see folks retaining the facts it presented more readily. So hats off to the folks of B.C. for making history fun and for the relaxed approach. Here on the East Coast there's a level of formality to the presentation of history that is sometimes off-putting, though I hasten to add I do understand why the National Archives doesn't want some dude with greasy fingers from his super-sized meal fingering up the US Constitution.

Since the demand for beaver hats tanked not long after the founding of Ft. Langley and the winters there are mild enough that the furs produced are not high quality they turned to timber, cedar especially. Ah, trees make me happy. The feathery greens were so pretty.

We thought we'd have more time to explore a bit of B.C. but it got late so we headed back to the U.S. Getting into Canada was a little interesting since Thing Two was with us and the Canadian border patrol was afraid Logo was kidnapping her own son. The Canadian authorities were at least pleasant about the process. One guy was downright apologetic for the trouble. Returning to the U.S., we were greeted by a seriously surly American border guard. Really, dude, a couple of middle-aged women and a 12 year old boy in a minivan strike you as a threat? This picture and the next one were taken at the Peach Arch Monument. This one is from the Canadian side. Thing Two and I dashed off to take a quick looksee while Logo circled the parking lot avoiding the $10 parking fee on the American side.

Now this is the part of the post where you all pat me on the back and commend me for not getting myself hauled off and strip searched. Logo and I presented out ID and were asked where we were from respectively. We answered and then the guard wanted to know how we knew each other. Now all of you understand online friendships can be normal. Stern border guards have a narrower understanding of life in general so Logo and I looked at each other wondering how exactly to explain this. Meanwhile in the backseat, Thing Two offered, "The Internet!" Aforementioned U.S. border guard immediately became more suspicious in his demeanor and growled, "Care to elaborate on that?" Dear reader, you KNOW what I do to memes therefore it is safe to assume you KNOW that every cell in my body yearned to give a snarky yet chipper, "No, not so much!" as if I were truly being offered an option in that question. Fortunately, a few cells in my brain fired off before my mouth did and I was able to avoid a cavity search because, as I considered a more suitable response, Logo told the guy we met in a chat room and before I could make some wise ass crack about it being an Al-Qaeda chat room she clarified that it was a trivia room and we were sent on our way.

Last Bit of Washington

2011-10-23T22:38:00.000-04:00

Sick of Washington yet? Ok, well, today is the last bit of show and tell for that. Tomorrow onto Canada! That's only one day though so don't worry. Have I mentioned Logo missed her calling as a tour guide? In addition to showing me all around Seattle itself she showed me some lovely areas outside the city. On my last day in Washington we saw Cama Beach, which is an old fishing resort. It was quite charming.

The beach was all pebbly and crushed up clam shells but a very pretty, relaxing looking place.

Care to guess what this is?

It's the inside of one of these, a handmade kayak. We met a fellow there who helps run the place and he gave us quite a nice showing of the various boats and kayaks they have for rent as well as showing us one of the cabins. I have to admit if we'd had the time I would have liked to give that kayak a try to see how it felt compared to the plastic ones I've used in the past. Maybe next time I make it out that way....

Instead of kayaking Logo and I took a ride on her bike Red Molly through the gorgeous Skagit Valley.

Oh yes we did. It was fantastic. I didn't mind missing the kayak at all. I was completely content.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Camano Dawn

2011-10-20T20:27:00.000-04:00

FRIDAY 55

Mountains,

sky,

and water

scheme together.

They whisper

their incantation

that rises with the sun,

envelops me like the mist

roused from its rest,

rolling along the water,

ascending

as dawn draws it

to the clouds.

The earth inhales...exhales.

Its spell is cast--

the beguiling look

of a lover waking,

smiling,

reaching,

whispering,

"Stay..."

DA COUNT

Yeah, I actually got up before dawn to take these pictures while I was in Washington. Me, the girl who hates mornings. It was worth it. Just.so.gorgeous.

And Now for Something Not Completely Different....

2011-10-18T22:28:00.000-04:00

We're going to move OUTSIDE Seattle today. First we'll hit Ballard Locks, which connects the Puget Sound via the Ship Canal to Lakes Union and Washington. We weren't there long because the weather was cold and rainy but hit just at the right time to see some vessels large and small go through the locks.

I thought this one was especially charming.

Some very groovy sculpture at the locks.

After seeing Ballard, where fish climb ladders we went to Fremont so we cold climb a troll.

I went mining for gold.

and found....something....

Fremont is a funky place. I mean that in a good way. Lots of art. Lots of grooviness. There's a giant statue of V. I. Lenin even. Apparently the statue was purchased by a local artist who saw it in a news picture after it had been toppled as the communist regime unraveled. He recognized the tremendous skill in producing the work and wanted to preserve it not so much because he was a fan on Lenin but because he hated to see the product of a skilled artist destroyed.

This plaque was at Lenin's feet. I can't even venture a guess as to why or what it means.

Even the sidewalks in Fremont are groovy.

Another day, Logo took me on a winery tour. That was a first for me and I learned a few things in between watching a tour guide become increasingly irritated with a bozo of a tourist and watching the antics of said tourist.

Which winery? Well, my own, of course.

And since it was my chateau I went out amongst the vines with my camera...I have to inspect my grapes don't I?

Nourishing

2011-10-17T23:09:00.001-04:00

A few years ago I posted about the farmer's market I grew up visiting on a regular basis. I love farmer's markets. They feed my soul as much as they feed my belly. In Trinidad, I had access to a large and wonderful farmer's market too. Since I have been back in the US I have not lived in proximity to a decent one. I miss that access dearly. Then I went to Seattle...and Susie and Logo introduced me to Pike Place Market. Oh did that place sing to my soul!

Susie and I greeted Rachel the pig upon our arrival.

I loved all the strings of peppers hanging around. So colorful!

And berries. Mmmmm....simply succulent!

Strange colors for carrots but so fresh. One of the things I loved was how much of the produce was organic or sustainably farmed and sold at what I'd consider to be reasonable prices.

Huuuuge piles of shrimp...or piles of huge shrimp which is kind of an oxymoron...

Whereas crowds in grocery stores make me crazy, there is something I love about the hustle and bustle of a farmer's market.

Yum, I tried it planked while I was out in Seattle. I quite liked it.

The fish market is just plain fun. These guys tossing the fish back and forth were having a ball. As soon as he caught the fish he came rushing at my camera lens with it. Unfortunately I missed that shot because I was laughing so hard. But this one captures some of the spirit I think.

Fish too smelly for ya? Ok, how about row upon row of bouquets. Big, lush, gorgeous bouquets for unbelievably cheap prices.

Pretty in pink...

...or lavender.

Oooh, looky...stacks of tie dye! Another thing I loved about Seattle and Pike Place Market was that there were a lot of locally produced and wonderfully artistic crafts available. If you truly wanted some cheap plastic made-in-China tourist memento you could find it, but there was such a proliferation of really wonderful local arts and crafts I'd have to ask WHY would you want that other junk?

I said it before, the place sang to my soul. It made me happy....happy enough to wanna ride a pig and whoop in enthusiasm!

And Now For the Obviously Touristy Part of the Extended Seattle Tribute

2011-10-16T22:15:00.000-04:00

In case you forgot, I went to Seattle last month so I could meet Susie and Logo. How lucky were we to have a view of the Space Needle from our very reasonably priced hotel room? Cool, huh? That was the first night.

Several days later we took a ferry ride and I got to see the Needle from the water.

Bonus shot of another ferry with the Needle. How very Seattle, eh?

Coming back on the ferry I got to see the Needle at night. Also attempted getting a half decent shot while the motor was vibrating the boat, the wind was blowing me, and I had no tripod. I expected nothing more than a horrid blur. The fact that I can even tell it's the Needle makes me happy.

No Needle in the shot but the waterfront is groovy.

This is the result of that earlier picture of Logo laying on the ground and me...uh...mounting the gigantic balls. It's all about perspective, baby. No phallic symbolism going on, nuh-uh.

Oh, and just to keep things completely out of order chronologically, we did actually go TO the Needle a day or so before the ferry ride. Here's a view of the gorgeous Puget Sound at sunset.

Gratuitous ferry entering the shot.

Check out the Cascade Range. Water. Mountains. Sunset. What's not to love?

Waterfront view from the Needle at dusk.

More of the same, just the other side of the Needle. (Here's Uncle Milt coming out from behind the house. *click* Here he is in front of the house. *click* Here he is by the car. *click*....sick of my Needle views yet?)

Ok fine, we also rode the monorail to get back to the hotel so we could look out our window and see the Needle some more.

Slice of Lime & Friday 55-Always Fresh

2011-10-13T21:27:00.001-04:00

For years I've heard G-man rave about Tim Hortons.

We have only Starbucks,

which tempts me not at all.

I even saw the first Starbucks in Seattle...

and yawned.

Then Logo and Thing Two

took me to Tim Hortons in Canada.

Hot cocoa and a pastry.

Sipping contentedly.

Mmmm...cheaper and yummier than Starbucks. I'm convinced!

We Interupt the Seattle Revelry...

2011-10-11T23:00:00.000-04:00

....for this blogiversary and birthday. Today House of Lime turns six and Lime herself turns....uh....considerably older. Ok, if you must know Hugh Jackman and I are exactly the same age. So if you're really curious, you can Google him and find out how old I am. The year (many years ago) this little tidbit of information was discovered Diana asked, "If you guys are the same age how come he looks so much younger than you?" Picture me non-plussed. (muttering under my breath about the darned fresh kids and how their snotty observations have an aging effect)

Now I have already told Mr. Lime I am regarding the trip to Seattle as my birthday present this year. Is that a sigh of relief I hear from him? Why yes, I believe it may be. However, I want to begin planning for a future birthday because I think Hugh and I ought to be able to share one together. This year I begin the campaign for just that. Of course, with all deference to our respective spouses, I will include them in the celebrations.

Aside from the obvious talent and drool factor Mr. Jackman possesses I have several other reasons I am a fan of his as well as some similarities we share. It is these aspects I use as the basis of my argument that we should meet and celebrate a birthday together. Allow me to list them and see if you don't agree. Coincidence or fate...

Good lighting helps...not that he needs it.

1. We share the exact same birthday. Really! We do! Though I suspect with the time difference and knowing that I was born in the evening he is AT LEAST several hours older than I am. Still he looks younger than I do....dammit. (No, this will NOT motivate me to begin dyeing my hair!)

2. He is an award winning actor. (2004 Tony for Best Actor, among many others). I am an award winning actress. You think I am making this up? HA! Go read this post about my Golden Phallus Award from 1985, you doubters!

Good fathering is very attractive.

3. I am an adopted child. He and his wife are adoptive parents. Honestly, I really like that he is involved in adoption advocacy. Anyone who is immediately earns my respect. Yep, I'm biased.

I just know he's thinking of where the best ziplining venue might be.

4. We have both had unfortunate zipline incidents. Mine was in the backyard and resulted in the impressive mangling of my left arm requiring two surgeries and 6 1/2 months of occupational therapy to regain use of said arm but I have some TOTALLY awesome scars I am sure would impress. I wear them with pride. His incident was during the taping of an interview with Oprah. His stop was rather abrupt when his face met the set. Hey, the guy needed stitches and everything. It probably stung! For this reason I think which ever birthday we celebrate together should involve ziplining. We will both be properly harnessed and wear helmets but we WILL dominate the ziplines, thus proving to the world that we are fearless conquerors...or else completely foolhardy. Take your pick.

5. We were each raised by single parents.

6. He is Australian. I own land in Queensland, Australia. No, I am not kidding. Gees, you people never believe me! Check out this post. Heck, I even own an Australian flag, which I may or may not be allowed to fly on my own land.

7. My birthfather is Greek. One of his great grandfathers is Greek. I say our celebration also involves tossing some wine glasses around.

8. His character Wolverine is supposed to be 5'3" according to the comic books but Hugh is 6'2". I am only 5'4" but my son is 6'1/2". Oh, so you think I am really stretching for commonalities now, do you? Well...well...ok, just shuddup or I'm gonna have to go all raging mutant on ya!

9. He's a proponent of microcredit and Mohammad Yunus as well as working with other organizations dedicated to helping the poor. I worked with squatters for the year I lived in Trinidad. I'd still be there or someplace else doing something similar were it not for certain circumstances beyond my control. I'm still involved in other ways.

10. He's really athletic. I can enjoy looking at the results of his athleticism. I consider it a good cardio workout for me.

11. He can do that funky arching of one eyebrow trick and so can I.

12. He's not in the least bit embarrassed to dress/act like a complete nut to have some fun. And if six years worth of ridiculousness chronicled in this blog isn't evidence enough of my own self-effacing lunacy here is just one reminder.

Seattle Sights

2011-10-10T22:55:00.000-04:00

On the rare occasions I get to travel to someplace new my preferred way to see the place is through the eyes of friends who live there so they can show me what they love about a place. Susie and Logo both had favorite places so they each had their own take on the place. Then I showed up and added my Lime twist. Here are just a few non-Needle related stops through out the city. (The Needle is later.)

The Central Saloon is the oldest in the city. Logo and I had a very yummy lunch there. May I also add one of the things I really appreciated about Seattle and surrounds was the seemingly sincere desire of servers to actually serve patrons cheerfully. Every restaurant I went into from the cheapest hole in the wall to the fanciest place they all brought water immediately and kept the glass filled. At home I'd have to beg for a single glass and sell my soul for a refill. Seattle servers are also more than happy to give a table as many separate checks as desired. Around here, requesting such a thing might lead to you having your food spat upon. Yeah, simple things but it made dining out the pleasure it ought to be.

Chief Seattle. I learned during the Underground Tour that his name is actually pronounced more like a cat horking up a hairball and that he reluctantly allowed his name to be given to the city. Initially, he resisted on the basis that calling his name after he was dead would mean he'd have to respond and he'd never get to rest in peace. The city fathers offered him $500 a year for life to convince him. They figured he was not long for this world. He was swayed and lived another 15 years or so.

Not that I ever wondered especially what one of these looked like but now I know. The Curiosity Shop is a very groovy place down on the water front. It's filled with things like preserved whale penises, mummified dogs, a tooth collection and other weird items. In other words, I was in heaven. Very fun place.

Pennsylvania doesn't have a lot of obvious Native American relics around. Geographical names are about it. It was neat to see more prolific evidence of that culture. Of course, it also brought out the silly in us sometimes, but so did things like restaurants, museums, bookstores, markets....ya know, it doesn't take much for us.

We didn't actually go in here but the Pacific Science Center looked really pretty all lit up at night, didn't it?

Gees, those totems are just all over the place!

Walrus gargoyles. Now how cool is that?

Please feel free to offer a caption for this particular shot. This is the audience participation part of this post, your reward for sticking with me.

Of course I did have to do some touristy things. One was the underground Tour which was given with great humor by an Elvis impersonator. I learned all about the "seamstresses" (wink wink nudge nudge) who came to Seattle to serve all the "dressmaking" needs of the original settlers, who all happened to be men. Oh, and I learned that folks scheduled their toilet usage around tide schedules so they didn't get blown off their crappers by a high tide surge mid-squat. I love when history is presented in a down to earth manner that makes you laugh. Anyway, this picture was just a groovy detail from underground.

And the bookstores.....Lord have mercy, there was an independent bookstore on every other corner. It made me so happy. Excuse me, I need just a moment here to revel in the bliss that was abundant books at affordable prices.....revel....revel...revel....ok, I'm back. Now here's one of my favorite signs from a bookstore during my visit.

Art Therapy

2011-10-09T21:48:00.001-04:00

After experiencing 10 days of Seattle under Logo's tour guiding ability I am convinced she missed her calling. Before I came she asked what sorts of things I was interested in and came up with a tentative and flexible schedule of things to see and do. She asked if it looked good. I said it looked great except for the part where I only got two hours at the Seattle Art Museum. She assured me it's all the time she needed when she went there and I reminded her she has regular, frequent access. On the other hand, I was suffering from severe art deficiency and would require more. She thought maybe I was kidding until I told her I'd only been to two art museums in the last 5 years. She then agreed this was a dire situation.

Here then are some of my favorite bits are art from SAM and other venues. One of the things I loved about Seattle was the proliferation of art in incidental places.

What should be in one of the first galleries but a piece of tie dye work on exhibit. So for all the haters out there.....tie dye is art! Woohoo!

This was a watercolor scroll depicting a Chinese banquet. Only part of it was unrolled and the detail of what was revealed made me want to see the rest of it, not to mention how it made me hungry.

Trees speak to me. This was a detail of a large aboriginal tube intended as an ossuary.

I was anxious to see some art from among the Native Americans of the Pacific Northwest. SAM had a lovely collection but this mask was among my favorite items.

This was a west African gourd bowl of some sort. I loved the colors and textures. The exhibit label said they weren't sure what its intended purpose was and they welcomed input from visitors. You just KNOW how tempted I was to offer some goofy meme-ish explanation...

Seattle is known for art glass and the museum had a nice little collection. Logo loves glass too so I told her she needs to come east so I can take her to the glass museum on Corning, NY.

Moving on to the Islamic world I loved the intricate details of this pen and ink set.

This rendering of the Last Supper by Rubens just spoke to my soul. I've never been a great fan of Da Vinci's version because it's not how I pictured that moment in my own head from reading the Biblical account. This much more closely aligns with my imagination. The intimacy of that meal seems so evident here and I just love the use of light.

This coat was constructed entirely of dog tags. It was kind of a moving thing to consider. The painting to the left was also a pretty profound work in my opinion. It was called Loser + Clark and was a commentary on the effects of western expansion.

One of the very cool things about Seattle is how much artwork is all over the city. Yes, I know I can go to any city and see statues and such but in Seattle it seems more commonplace, more accessible, and less pretentious. In my mind that makes it more wonderful and more easily appreciated. Manhole covers were an example. Yes, I drew a few giggles for taking pictures of manhole covers but look at that....it's way groovier than standard issue manhole covers.

And check out this light fixture on a wall near the market. How cool is that?

One afternoon Susie and I went to the Olympic Sculpture Garden. It was pretty blustery and rainy so we didn't linger too much but we were there long enough to spot a Freak in the Box.

I gotta say, some things considered art I don't get. Susie and I agreed this one didn't make a lot of sense. It just looked like some sailor forgot some ropes.

This was one of my favorites. It's supposed to represent ships. I got yelled at by a docent for touching it when I tried to peek out from behind one of them in kilroy fashion.

And although it was rainy it would seem that in Seattle even the rain is art!

Slice of Lime-Does Your Bubblegum Lose Its Flavor on the Gum Wall Overnight?

2011-10-05T23:11:00.000-04:00

Seattle has some really funky sights. One of the weirdest I saw was the Gum Wall in Post Alley Near Pike Place Market. Yep, there's an entire wall covered in wads of chewed gum. There are even some artistic designs executed in gum like this depiction of the Space Needle and a ferry.

Of course, the whole idea is just crazy enough to appeal to me so I had to add my own chewed up wad of gum. Chomp chomp snap snap.

And since I am often accused of taking things one step further than most I had to model the wad of gum before affixing it to the wall.

Find a good spot.

Make sure you know which one is mine.

Then I went to wash my hands. Yeah, I'm a wild woman.

I Went a Little Crazy

2011-10-04T22:16:00.000-04:00

So you all know I have a decent camera I call Boom-Boom.

And you all know I was in Seattle and surrounds for 10 days.

Yeah, so I took...uh....about 600 pictures.

So I have a lot to sort through.

And I know you don't want to see all 600 of them. That would be worse than having to sit through Uncle Melvin and Aunt Gert's slide show of the family vacation to the New Jersey shore from 1963. You remember, the one where there were 54 shots of the boardwalk sideways because Uncle Melvin couldn't figure out how to make the camera work.

So anyway, I don't want to put you through that. I'm going to try to sort through, reduce file sizes and post the best without drawing it all out for longer than the 10 days I was actually on the west coast.

In the meantime, here's a shot of the totally groovy view from the hotel room we had the first couple of nights.

Freaks in the Box Thinking Outside the Box

2011-10-03T22:10:00.001-04:00

Some folks in my 3-D life think it's kind of odd that I have these on-line friends for about a decade and we've never met. Some think it's odd that I even refer to them as friends. Some asked if I was nervous about meeting Susie and Logo. Some wondered how we'd get along. Some were sure we'd be awkwardly staring at each other searching for words.

At first we were a little confused about how best to interact. We are just a bunch of socially misfit Freaks-in-the-Box, after all. Once we got to the hotel we tried chatting like we always had. I mean it's worked pretty well for 10 years, why wouldn't it work now?

The hotel only had free wi-fi in the lobby though so while we were in our room it was a challenge. This chatting thing was going to be impossible. We weren't sure how were were ever going to communicate without functioning computers.

Fortunately, Logo brought some Gentleman Jack so once we broke that open conversation flowed pretty easily.

Impressions

2011-10-02T22:16:00.000-04:00

I'm back from Seattle. It was great. I loved every minute. Well ok, there were a few minutes in downtown Everett, WA that didn't qualify as "loved" but they were tolerable and provided humor in now being able to have a chuckle at the lack of interesting things there as compared to the rest of the greater Seattle area.

The trip back was a colossal pain in the rump with canceled flight, overnight stay in our nation's capitol, misdirected bags, and discovering soaked contents (including damaged and destroyed books) upon retrieval of said bags. Oh, and that bit about having to bring my damaged things back to the airport within 24 hours in order to file a claim. Greeeeat idea. Unfortunately, I have a job my boss expects me to show up for. Thank you, United Air for making Sunday such a completely restful delight so I could use it to chill out and re-adjust to the time change before plunging into an 11 hour workday on Monday. No really, thanks....

Ok, enough of that. Seattle. LOVED it! Logo and Susie. LOVED meeting them and getting to explore the city with them! Had a complete blast with them. It was just a completely wonderful time finally getting to meet them after knowing them online for about a decade. My brief impressions of each...

Seattle: Very laid back vibe. Independent bookstores on every other corner. Very bicycle friendly. Easy to find organic and sustainably farmed food. Clean. Inexpensive as cities go. Good public transportation. In fact, the buses are free in parts of the city. GORGEOUS geography. I have informed Mr. Lime the next time he threatens to move us to western Nebraska I will counter with "The Seattle Threat."

Susie: Even bubblier than you might expect from her online presence, in a good way. Heart of gold. Fearlessly friendly and outgoing. Love that she strikes up the warmest conversations with complete strangers. Smart, sweet, and silly and I love her to bits.

Logo: Every bit as sassy as you'd expect from her online presence, in a good way. Missed her calling as a tour guide. Should be hired and well-paid as a city ambassador. Tireless. Love that she knows her city and me well enough to know what was going to appeal to me most. Smart, sweet, and sassy and I love her to bits.

Thanks to both Susie and Logo for showing me such a great time.

I took an absurd number of pictures so I shall have to begin sorting through to get some posts together.

For now I am going to bed. I'm still on West Coast time and now have a hideous cold so morning is going to feel obscenely early.

Da Count-Look Out! Here I Come!

2011-09-20T22:10:00.017-04:00

Guess where I'm going tomorrow? It's on the west coast. It's got a reputation for being kind of rainy (though I am pretty sure we've had a helluva lot more rain than they have this summer so I am actually hoping to dry out a bit while there.) I'll be there 10 days. It's where she lives. She is coming too. They've met each other before but I haven't met either of them. We are all very excited. Wheeeeee!!!!!!!

Mr. Lime and the Limelets tended to refer to my online pals as Freaks in the Box (a term coined by Logo's family). They think it's a little silly to have "imaginary" friends. I have always countered that no one thought my grandmother's lifelong pen pal from England was imaginary or freaky and they met each other several times (I've known Susie and Logo longer than I've known any other online pals. It's been almost 10 years). My family realized there was a very real and deep dimension to the friendship when Susie organized a truly jaw-dropping act of kindness for Calypso's benefit a few months ago (that several of you participated in and for which I am deeply grateful). Mr. Lime had an airline voucher left from almost a year ago when our church flew him out to Colorado to help move our new youth pastor back East. The voucher was set to expire and he had no use for it so he said, "I thought maybe you'd like to use it so you could meet your friend in person." WHEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Susie said, "WHEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! Let's go to Seattle so you can meet Logo too!"

Logo said, "WHEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Look out Seattle! Here I come!

I hope to be able to put up a few posts here and there along the way but won't promise any particular sort of schedule until I get back....and readjust to East coast time.

Where Lime Is Handed an Award for Not Eating her Young

2011-09-19T22:58:00.000-04:00

Remember that bit where Isaac and I bonded over keyboard symbols for breasts? Yeah. What I didn't tell you was that yesterday I also made the most awesome dark chocolate mint cupcakes with fudge mint frosting. They.were.killer.cupcakes. See, at my office we pull names for office birthdays and the lady whose name I got had her birthday today so it was my job to bring the gift, the card, and the goodies. I made a double batch so my darling son could have some too.

How did he thank me?

By bursting into my room and my dreams as I was warmly snuggled in between my flannel sheets and favorite wool blanket at 6:30am and declaring breathlessly, "Mom, I was out at the bus stop at the right time and it must have come really early. I missed it. Can you drive me to school?"

Regular readers may know this in itself is not a completely unusual occurrence and no consequence I have inflicted upon the boy has quite achieved the desired level of efficacy in diminishing the frequency of this undesirable event. Mondays and Wednesdays I exact heavier prices for this transgression since it seriously messes up my schedule for getting to work on time. This morning I wanted to be at work even earlier in order to set up the birthday stuff...as well as stop at the store to get some extra snacks. In 5 seconds that plan was shot to hell.

I dragged myself out of bed and dressed in long underwear, a tank top, tie dyed tube socks with birkenstock sandals, and my ratty pink bathrobe. My hair rivaled Medusa's on a bad snake day. I was aiming to disgrace the kid in front of friends when I dropped him off by demanding a big hug and telling him how much I'd miss him while he was at school (ya know, since no other consequence has been meaningful). The nails were driven into the coffin of that idea when we arrived at a school seeming to have been evacuated in preparation for the next hurricane. A maintenance worker shouted to Isaac, "Kid, it's a teacher in-service day. No school. Whaddya doing here?" It would be safe to say I was less than amused. I wasn't fully awake but as Isaac sheepishly turned back to the car with an apology I thought I saw a look of pity on the maintenance guy's face indicating he was sorry the kid's obviously-in-need-of-rehab mother was so desperate to get rid of him she drove him to an empty school on a day off.

Did I mention Mr. Lime left me with the car that had no gas in it after he said he'd take that one and fill it? And that our town is still under heavy construction? And that when I got home all the dinner that was available had been eaten?

It's enough to make a girl run to the other side of the continent.

A Sea of Testosterone

2011-09-18T22:41:00.000-04:00

I am not exactly what you'd call a girly girl and have not been accused of such by anyone who knows me. My poor mother thought when she had a daughter that I might be interested in princess-y accoutrements but found out otherwise very shortly after setting up the canopy bed she and my father bought for me as my first "big girl bed" when I was three. Within a month I had bent and twisted the actual canopy into a mangled mess. Yes, I was thrilled to receive this bed, but I viewed the canopy not as a lovely decoration, rather as a personal jungle gym from which to swing and flip and dismount the bed.

My lack of extremely overt estrogen driven behavior continues to manifest in such things as disliking shoe and clothing shopping, not even owning make-up, willingness to fly from ziplines, and wearing the ensuing scars with pride. That said, I am a little concerned about now being the only female still dwelling in Casa de Lime. The air hangs a bit heavier with erm....masculine aromas. In my absence, foodstuffs that Diana or Calypso might have helped defend seem to disappear with great rapidity. The television spends a lot more time on ESPN. And then there is what passes for jovial conversation...

Mr. Lime: (struggling as he stepped over Isaac in the bean bag chair) You're in my way, doofus.

Isaac: It's not my fault you're an old man who's lost all his moves. By the way, you're blocking the TV. Get out of my way, jerkwad.

Mr. Lime: I can still take you out, ya little twit.

Isaac: Ha! I'm taller than you and I could take you from this bean bag chair, ya jackwagon.

Mr. Lime: You try and there's going to be two hits. My hitting you. You hitting the floor.

Isaac: Ok, I see senility has started too now. Mom, get him some pudding, will ya?

I rolled my eyes at the taste of post-dinner conversation for the next three years.

Later in the evening when Isaac was supposed to be typing a paper for History class according to the Chicago style of format he had some questions. I sorted him out then he was typing and started to chuckle. I asked what was so funny. He showed me how he could simulate boobs by typing (.)(.). I informed him he used the wrong format and had to type them like this ( . Y . ). He was completely impressed.

I'm not helping myself any am I? Ah, but it was a tender mother/son moment.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Near Drowning

2011-09-15T22:01:00.000-04:00

FRIDAY 55

*image from deviantart.com

Silent descent
drifting downward
where water's embrace lulls me
in the gentle pull of gravity
until my lungs burn
I beg for air
panic
and reach
for sunlight
to grasp only aquamarine
see the last few bubbles
rising from my lips
escaping to the surface
as I swallow blackness
and the sunless deep
engulfs me

DA COUNT

The 55 is a repost from well over a year ago. Interesting to note that I wrote it just a month or so before I had any idea just how bad things would get around here. I wrote it mostly as a fictional piece at that time inspired by the artwork posted with it but there were some rough things going on at that time. I just never posted about them. However, after the many hits we all took from May 2010 through June 2011, there were times when I felt like I was drowning.

Now you must understand that, unlike what we see in the movies, someone in imminent danger of drowning does not flail about wildly as they scream for help. Those who are about to slip under the water for the last time are generally quiet and barely floating in the water just around mouth or nose level. They don't have any energy left to call out or flail. Hence, it is crucial that a lifeguard be well trained in recognizing the silent signs of distress and be vigilant about scanning the water for those in need of help.

This is what leads to my count. There were days this past year when I felt I might go under, days when I didn't have the energy to ask for help. There are some specific individuals in my 3-D life and here in Bloggy Land who were looking out for me and who reached out in a myriad of ways when I needed it and helped me find the shore again. I'm not going to go naming names today but just know that I am profoundly grateful.

May the waters always be warm and calm for each of you, but if they grow dark and stormy, I hope I prove to be the kind of friend to you that you've been to me.

Slice of Lime-Where in the World

2011-09-14T20:01:00.000-04:00

Looky what I just got in the mail. Hhhmm, where shall I go???

Some Have Suggested I Have a Problem

2011-09-13T11:45:00.000-04:00

Remember when I posted about how sad I was about Borders closing? Well, I've been there several times since that post. I can't help myself. When I drive past and I know I don't have to be anywhere there is a strong magnetic pull and the car turns itself into the parking lot. I always assume I won't find anything because the pickings have to be getting slim. And yet. I always come out with an armload of books.

Sometimes I sneak the bags of books into the house and hide them away. I keep books stacked all over my house so I can put my hands on them whenever I feel the need. There are full shelves in the den, a "to red" pile in the living room, gift books hidden in my bedroom closet, piles of recent purchases on the dining room table, single books scattered about the house in random places, and still a couple bags from the library's summer used book sale (another dangerous place for me, especially on dollar a bag day).

I decided to gather up the recent Borders finds and see just how many it was*. Even I was surprised. In my defense I've already read several of them.

* I found 3 more scattered through the house after I took the picture.

I Remember

2011-09-10T22:10:00.001-04:00

I don't want to look at Photoshopped pictures of the towers that once stood now painted in the stars and stripes.

I don't want to look at the spotlights replicating the fallen towers.

And dear God, I do not ever want to look again at photographs or videos of planes crashing into skyscrapers, great, billowing plumes of smoke rising, or steel and glass collapsing.

No, I don't want to look at the twisted, mangled wreckage of the Twin Towers which has become the grave for thousands.

I remember without those images bombarding me on the Internet or the television. Those memories are seared into my mind's eye.

I can easily enough remember the phone call from my husband telling me to turn on the t.v. and watching in stunned horror as the first tower burned and a plane crashed into the second one. I remember it all happening in real time as I stood frozen in my living room watching it unfold, thinking it couldn't get any worse....and then the first tower fell....and then the second.

I can remember that being followed by reports of the Pentagon being hit and then reports of a missing and still unaccounted for plane somewhere over my home state of Pennsylvania.

I remember standing transfixed in my living room holding Diana's lunch in my hands because she had forgotten to take it to school and I was on my way to deliver it when my husband called.

I remember wondering if I should take her lunch or bring her home from school because I wondered if one of the two sites in our area that might be considered strategic targets were where that missing plane was headed.

I remember driving in a daze and arriving to a school office that was a flurry of frantic parents and one calm secretary who asked what I wanted to do and I told her, "I don't know." She said the teachers were under orders to keep the televisions and radios off and proceed as normal but if I wanted to take my daughter I could since so many students have parents who work in Manhattan. I remember forcing myself to opt for normal and leaving lunch for my daughter....then crying all the way home.

I remember picking Isaac up from kindergarten and letting him play by himself upstairs while I tried to secretly watch news reports until my watching was pierced by a bloodcurdling scream. He had shoved a bead up his nose.

I remember trying a myriad of ways to get that bead out of his nose and finally telling him we'd have to go to the doctor. I remember the way he clung to me and cried asking, "Will they have to cut my nose off to get the bead out?" And I remember gently reassuring him that no such horror would befall him. I remember being grateful that my attention was redirected to my son's needs and also envious of his innocence because, as far as he knew, a bead up the nose was the worst thing that could happen that day...though when you are five and scared of your nose being cut off that is a pretty big deal.

I remember my husband coming home and both of us spending time trying to track down news on the whereabouts of all the friends we had who worked in or around the towers. And I remember the deep sighs of relief upon learning each of them had escaped to safety.

I remember the days that followed when we learned about friends of friends who had not been so fortunate. I remember being angered that Calypso's 3rd grade teacher, who I adored and respected, had passed out newspapers with pictures of the burning towers to each of her students.

I remembered how Calypso carried around her copy wherever she went for weeks because she said it was important and she needed to. I remember forcing myself to allow her to work through her own thoughts and feelings about the event in her way, talking with her frequently about her processing of 9/11, and forcing myself NOT to take that newspaper and throw it away so she wouldn't look at it every single day.

I couldn't stand seeing the images of the moment thousands of hearts stopped beating. I still can't. But I remember nonetheless.

Instead of burning buildings and massive devastation I prefer what the designer of the Ground Zero Memorial has given us, an open space cultivating calm amidst the mayhem of the city, a place for peaceful reflection and hopefully some measure of healing.

May those who lost family and friends on that day find peace and healing in their lives. May all of us work toward peace and healing in a broken world.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Da Noodle

2011-09-08T20:13:00.001-04:00

FRIDAY 55

After stupid amounts of tests

that took stupid amounts of time

and cost stupid amounts of money,

it's official.

My brain works fine.

I'm a frickin genius*

with mild depression,

PTSD,

and just a hint of ADD.

I dunno if I should put that on a resume

or pour myself a bowl of Alpha-Bits.

DA COUNT

Most readers know I was badly concussed a couple years ago and anyone who has been even a casual reader this year knows Casa de Lime has absorbed quite a number of hits. Through it all I noticed difficulty with my cognitive abilities and didn't know if it was residual effects of too many hits to the head or the cumulative effect of all the sucker punches our family has taken. A few weeks ago I was sent for a full day of testing to determine what was going on. This week the doc pretty much summarized it all by saying I tested out way above average on all but 2 of the cognitive tests but that I'm depressed, have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from this, and he thinks I have Attention Deficit Disorder but not badly enough to warrant treatment (this based on the fact that he gave me the most boring and unstimulating test of the bunch at the end of the day when I was sick of the whole scenario and my results show I didn't attend well to it....yeah, I doubt anyone would have attended well to that particular test and I think it's more a function of requiring something to be actually interesting to hold my focus after several hours of this crap). So yes, I am grateful my brain doesn't have something horribly wrong with it...though I am not sure how genius it was to spend the absurd amount of money it took to get this information.

*Ok, not a bona fide genius, just of "very superior intelligence" but that phrase took me over 55 words and didn't fit the rhythm. So sue me, or factor in the margin of error which could throw me into genius range. Or throw the whole thing in the trash because really, a high IQ and $4 will get me a frou-frou coffee I won't even drink since I hate all coffee.

Slice of Lime-Hate When It Ends

2011-09-07T20:28:00.000-04:00

Maryland was good.

It was relaxing.

I enjoyed it.

Then I had to go home.

I hate when vacation ends.

This shows my feelings on the issue.

Coming home to chocolate was nice. It was soothing.

Coming home to find out Isaac had a deer tick (Lyme Disease bearing) on him for over 85 hours, not so much.

Arguing with his doc about whether or not she'd treat him prophylactically after all Calypso has been through, infuriating

Say it with me...

OH HELL NO!*

*We will NOT be waiting for a bull-eye rash which nearly half of all diagnosed patients never display. We will NOT be relying on blood tests which are notorious for false negative results. You WILL give my son the necessary antibiotics to prevent him from winding up as sick as his sister was while you sat on your asses and tried to tell me it was all in her head and she just needed a psychiatrist. Over my dead body!

The Maryland Report

2011-09-06T22:52:00.000-04:00

I had a lovely few days at my dad's new place in Maryland. Here are some odds and ends from my time there.

I rather like the ritual of my dad handing me a glass of Veuve Clicquot upon arrival. My step-uncle seems to have added the ritual of handing me a mimosa when I walk into his house.

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As always, siting on the beach allows for some fun people watching. This time there was a group of boys who seemed to be around 10-12 years old. They were chasing each other in the water and having fun until someone became unhappy and shouted, "Stopping being such a buttcheekface head!"

Buttcheekface Head. That's my new favorite prepubescent insult. Jeff and Barry approve.

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Observing someone else's minor drama and having no responsibility to fix it can lend some perspective to the more immediate drama in my own life. It's helping me stick to my new mantra of "It's not my problem to fix."

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"Watching Gettysburg, eating bad store bought fried chicken and now using the Force to will my wife back home a day early. So far ...nothing."

Mr. Lime overestimates the power of the above pathetic sounding Facebook status to entice me home a day early.

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Although I was in no hurry to go home it was nice for the Universe to arrange my dad and step-mom to have an argument about a leaky fridge and the skies to open up in a torrential storm to make me more at peace about departure.

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In the last couple of weeks Isaac has taken initiative to search out dessert recipes he can make by himself. Twice he has baked cookies from scratch. They came out well. He even improvised successfully on one when we were missing an ingredient. When I came home this weekend some of this was sitting on the counter. I could get used to that sort of ritual too!

I've Got the Power

2011-09-01T15:23:00.000-04:00

We went without for 51 hours, which is far less time than many folks in our area who remain without power. I'm proud to see the way our community is responding with lots of schools and other facilities open for showers, lots of places for drinking and flushing water distribution and hot meals. I am thinking of the folks in Vermont who are cut off from so much help that they are relying on airdrops of supplies. It's rather mindboggling to think this storm affected folks from the Carolinas to Canada. I was cranky about being inconvenienced but really had no room to complain considering how much some folks have lost. I'm grateful we all are well.

During the storm we had to take Calypso 3 hours away to report for her internship program. That was a rather "interesting" drive to say the least. We made it and got her safely settled in and her adventure has begun.

I spoke to my dad in Maryland and he tells me the new house is still standing though part of the beach and a local road were washed away. My last load of laundry is tumbling around the dryer before I finish packing up for a long weekend away from responsibility. I'm taking a big stack of cheap books from the closing Border's store so even if the weather is crappy I will be happy. The men of Casa de Lime can fend for themselves a few days.

Hope everyone has a nice weekend and power, water, and homes are soon restored to order for those who are in chaos.

Now let us dance.

That Bitch, Irene

2011-08-29T19:12:00.000-04:00

I'm posting this after hours at work before I head home to a house that thus far has been without power and water for 38 hours. We've been told that situation is unlikely to improve any time soon. At least we don't still have water coming into the basement and everyone is unharmed. I'm glad at least it's not 90 degree heat or the dead of winter.

I'm a bit cranky, hungry, tired, and smelly. I'll be back when i'm in a better mood, more well rested, and smell more pleasant.

Da Count-Ascent

2011-08-27T12:45:00.000-04:00

Anyone who has read this blog in the last year knows Calypso struggled terribly with her health this past year. Around Easter she was finally diagnosed with Lyme disease (oh, the irony) and began treatment. IT took quite a while before she really began to feel much better. The process was initially hindered by a truly crazy physician who I believe preys upon families who are desperate to do anything to make a loved one better when every other doctor has given up. It was a damn hard year, and that was only dealing with Calypso's medical situation and trying to help her graduate on time. Consistent readers may well remember how the universe just seemed to pile on crisis after crisis.

I've said it before and I'm saying it again today. I am profoundly grateful that Calypso is regaining her health and she is able to move forward in her life. Tomorrow (barring disaster related to Wicked Irene) we will be taking her a camp about three hours away where she will be involved in a nine month cross-cultural training, service-oriented program. Two days after we drop her off she heads out to Colorado to commence with the team-building exercise of backpacking in the Rockies for four days.

Three months ago, even though we had a diagnosis and what seemed like an effective treatment, I never would have dared to hope she'd be well enough to do this. I wasn't concerned about Calypso's sense of determination. She demonstrated this past year that she has what it takes to gut through tremendous adversity. I just didn't know if her body would be recovered sufficiently from a year of disease and atrophy to allow her to physically gut through.

This summer she was working to build up strength and stamina again. We are fortunate enough to live within decent distance to the Appalachian Trail and Mr. Lime is an experienced backpacker. Since he's been off school he has been able to take Calypso out on different sections of the trail for some training hikes. Let me tell you the AT in Pennsylvania is a challenging trek because of how rocky it is. There are a number of ascents but even the flat sections of trail are no picnic because of the proliferation of rocks.

Yesterday Mr. Lime took Calypso out for their final hike before she leaves. It was a demanding trail that ascends 1200 ft. in 2 miles. Some sections of it are more like vertical free climbing. When they made the top I received this picture.

A few minutes later I noticed on Facebook that Calypso had posted, "I climbed a mountain!" Yes, Calypso, you most certainly have. I hope you are reveling in the view.

Would You Rather...

2011-08-23T22:55:00.000-04:00

We play a game in these here parts that involves having to choose which of two unpleasant alternatives you'd prefer. Generally, the questions would be something akin to, "Would you rather eat a whole jar of kindergarten paste or drink a dixie cup of Elmer's Glue?"

Earlier today I was able to generate a new question not derived from theoretical notions but from actual experience.

As I was having lunch, which includes salsa and chips I got to the end of the bag. My typical practice is to take the shards too small to dip, toss them in a bowl, and dump salsa over them so I can eat the mess with a spoon. I had just taken a big spoonful of chip shards and hot salsa when I began to feel the unmistakeable sensation of a giant slow-motion sneeze winding up.

I tried to chew faster but realized the sneeze would register sooner than I could complete the swallow, thus I'd risk a massive choking fit. My alternatives quickly boiled down to, "Would I rather stifle the sneeze by keeping my mouth closed and risking sinus cavities full of chips and salsa or just give a big unrestrained sneeze and have a lovely abstract dispersal pattern of chips and salsa to clean off the nearest surface?"

As the person generally responsible for most of the cleaning I did not wish to create a giant mess right before I was supposed to leave for work. As a person who tends not to like searing pain in her sinuses, at the last possible moment, I opted for the mess....however reflexes took over and I raised my elbow to cover my sneeze.

So much for that shirt...

Watching My Back

2011-08-21T21:42:00.000-04:00

Long time readers may recall that I used to live in Trinidad, West Indies. Upon our return to the US we lived with my mother while Mr. Lime looked for the work that landed us where were currently live. During that time living with my mother, she and Calypso forged a strong bond. When Calypso was about 4 or 5 she made the following statement:

If our house burned down we could go live with Grammy again.

She said it with eyes shining full of hope and excitement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Isaac was about 3 all the kids began lobbying heavily for a cat or a dog. Aside from not wanting to have one more creature to clean up after I told the kids I was too allergic to cats and dogs to live with them, which is true. There were a number of counter arguments but none so shocking as Calypso's.

C: (with an expression as if she has just had a stroke of genius) If you died we could have a cat or a dog!

Me: (Somewhat reluctantly) Well...uh...theoretically yes...since that would take care of the whole allergy problem but would you rather have a dog or a cat or a mommy?

C: (pondering a moment) Hhmm...A dog or a cat because if you were dead you'd be with Jesus and that's a good thing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some tine after that we had a couple deaths in the family and inherited items began to appear in our home. After noticing the correlation, Calypso began to ask a certain question whenever she admired something that belonged to someone else.

Can I have that when you die?

It was all enough to make a mother a bit paranoid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many years passed in relative peace .and I thought I was safe but recently a couple more things have come up that make me wonder. Several months ago there was an extended conversation about whether or not a large pepperoni could be successfully employed as a murder weapon. Calypso decided freezing it to make it rock solid then making pizza with it after the crime to eliminate the evidence would be the way to go.

This weekend we went grocery shopping.

C: (picking up a 2 lb. block of herbed monterey jack cheese) I wonder if this could be a good murder weapon.

Me: No, too soft.

C: (replacing the m.j. cheese and holding up a 3 lb. block of cheddar) What about this? It says it's extra sharp.

Ok, I don't think she truly meant the cheese as a weapon. I just about died laughing though.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Sensible Shoes

2011-08-18T23:08:00.001-04:00

FRIDAY 55

A first job for a teenage girl

means so much fun shopping.

She can finally buy the most outrageous shoes

that Mom would never get for her.

My how times changes things.

They don't match anything in her closet.

They hurt her feet.

She's going on a backpacking trip.

Time for a new pair of shoes.

DA COUNT

Those two pairs of shoes both belong to Calypso. She bought the yellow ones a couple years ago for a stupid amount of money when she got her first paycheck. The second pair we bought a couple weeks ago to get her ready for a 9 month internship at a camp/farm.

Last month Calypso was cleared by the doctor to participate in the program at the camp. The first week will include a 4 day backpacking trip in the Rockies. Given that my girl spent 11 months growing increasingly unwell before she was diagnosed accurately and treated effectively I am amazed by this and deeply grateful.

This week she took a big step toward breaking in those practical shoes by successfully completely a 7.4 mile day hike on some pretty rocky terrain. She has also done a shorter hike on a trail that was also incredibly rocky and on a very significant incline. If you had asked me six months ago whether she'd be able to do this I probably would have welled up in tears wondering if she'd even be able to just get through a day of school without dropping over. Now I just well up with gratitude at how far she has come.

Slice of Lime-Tall Order

2011-08-17T21:30:00.000-04:00

You recall I went to a colonial festival with my mom over the weekend. As we wandered we found a section with amusements of the time. A boy was walking on stilts. Mom noted how she was the talk of town as a kid because she used to walk all up and down the main street on her own set of stilts. Of course, this led to me requesting a demonstration before attempting them myself. She declined but gave me the important tips for success...since she knew I would not be swayed from trying them. the big question was: Would I succeed or break a bone in the attempt?

What's your guess? (Scroll down to find out)

Here is where I heighten the tension and tell you to continue scrolling...

She's up. Will she stay up? (Keep scrolling)

More tension builds....

Ta-daaaaaa!!!!!* (The crowd goes wild...)

*The dismount was somewhat less graceful than I'd have hoped for but no Limes were injured in the stilt-walking session.

Yeah, It's Like That

2011-08-16T22:05:00.000-04:00

*image from here

I won't even annoy you with the details other than to say the last 3 hours have been all about Murphy's Law with a large dose of demanding behavior and a dash of stupidity.

It's adversely affecting my creativity so this is what you get.

Feel free to let rip with your own primal scream.

Folk Fest Fun

2011-08-15T23:04:00.000-04:00

Another activity Mom and I enjoyed this weekend was heading out to a local folk festival. It's one I've wanted to go to for a few years since it's at a living history site like the one where I have volunteered. Both this one and the one I am familiar with highlight Pennsylvania German culture. The one near to me covers early 19th century whereas the one I visited this weekend covers the Colonial period. It was really interesting to note some of the differences and similarities.

Here we have an example of bobbin lace making. It looks quite complex but the lady demonstrating demystified the process considerably. It's still painstaking though.

This is a butter mold. These were used not just as decoration but as a way to "brand" a local farm's butter so it was recognizable in the market.

Just a corner of a house that intrigued me.

This is the dining table in the same house.

In the house, which was quite dimly lit, there was a demonstration of hearth cooking. This is not the best picture I've ever taken since I wanted to try capturing the scene without resorting to using flash. It meant using a slow shutter speed and trying to control camera shake without a tripod or even a sturdy surface to rest the camera on. I found out there's an application for marksmanship skills in this. Hold your breath, squeeze the trigger slowly and smoothly...or the shutter release as the case may be.

A row of planes at the carpenter's section of the festival.

A powder horn that was typical to this particular area. Most of the other decorated powder horns were decorated with scrimshaw. This one was etched with a mildly acidic solution rather than carved and inked. I quite liked it.

I've always loved the stone farm houses that dot the area where I grew up so I had to get a shot of some stone work.

Mom's Garden

2011-08-14T22:35:00.000-04:00

This weekend I grabbed an opportunity to go visit my mom. She's quite the gardener so I always enjoy a stroll around her yard. She kept apologizing that this week seemed to not be one with so many blooms but I found her zinnias quite lovely. I can't grow them at my house partly because our yard is so heavily shaded and partly because I have a black thumb of death.

I liked this tall one that stood out from the rest too.

Mom has always been enchanted by butterflies. When Calypso was in kindergarten she had a whole unit on the life cycle of butterflies and told my mom all about it. Then we found a mail order kit where you could raise a certain species from eggs to butterfly and gave it to Mom for Christmas that year. Ever since she has been hooked. Now her garden is full of plants intended to attract butterflies. She has also planted a big section of various types of milkweed for Monarchs. She checks the leaves daily to look for eggs so she can take them inside away from predators and raise them before releasing them. Now she's the one doing demonstrations on the life cycle of butterflies. Anyway, this weekend she had me looking for the eggs too. I found about five including this one. They are smaller than the head of a pin. See it?

When they hatch you need a magnifying glass to see the caterpillar but they grown pretty quickly and Mom keeps them supplied with fresh milkweed leaves. This one was about a half inch long. Eventually, after molting about four times they create the chrysalis (what most folks mistakenly call a cocoon). No pictures of that stage since all the ones Mom has are eggs or caterpillars right now but when you see one you get the idea of what they are called Monarchs. There is a delicate ring of tiny "gold" beads that form a crown on the chrysalis. I hope to get a picture of one later in the summer.

I was lucky enough to catch a Monarch on one of Mom's bushes even though it was quite windy and hard to focus. There were about 3 other species of butterflies on the largest bush but up too high for me to capture with my lens.

There were also a number of these busy visitors too.

Slice of Lime-Repeat Performance

2011-08-10T21:58:00.000-04:00

You may recall a post around this time last year where I displayed the amazing feat of strength of ripping a phone book in half after the big beefy boss men failed in their respective attempts to do so.

The new phone books were delivered to work today. I asked the boss if it meant I could rip the old one in half. He laughed and offered no objections.

Earlier this year the big beefy guy in last year's picture left the practice for a major career change...one involving some serious boot camp and post boot camp training where he HAD established his bad ass credentials. We've all missed him and his humor and we decided to send him a care package which included a pink teddy bear we all signed. He let us know he opened that package in front of all his fellow boot camp victims and some instructors. His bad ass rep was put in serious jeopardy.

Today I sent him this picture and asked him."This bad ass enough for you and cooler than the teddy bear?"