It's Complicated

It was raining and very dark and unpleasantly chilly in So Cal today, so I took myself to a matinee, my favorite rainy day escape.

I saw It's Complicated, and I liked it so much. Meryl Streep looked lovely, and completely natural. They didn't cake her with makeup or film her through vaseline, they just showed what a well-cared for lady of a certain age looks like. Alec Baldwin was equally charming as, well, a charmer starting to run low on the charm. Steve Martin was restrained and endearing.

Hallie described this as "a rom com for old people." I guess it is, and this old person liked it!

reveling in the quiet

Ian, who very nearly did not get here for Christmas due to the midwest blizzard, has gone home. Hallie went to see her grandmas for a week. Dave is back at work. My "adopted son," Adam, is still here, but leaving in a couple of hours.

The house is silent. It's nice.

This morning I ran a lot of Christmas cookies, the ones that had been around a week or more, down the garbage disposal. That was cathartic.

This afternoon, the gym.

And now my long wait for longer daylight begins. Spring, hurry fast!

Forty Pounds Today!

Now let's see if I can keep it off through the holidays!

Bubsy

Goodbye to Bubsy

This morning as I was scurrying around doing laundry and tidying, I happened to notice Bubsy lying unusually still on his heated pad in front of the fireplace. When I checked on him, I saw that he had slipped away.

It was a gentle ending for a sweet and gentle pet. Life around here won't be the same without you, Bubsy. Rest well, little guy.

This picture

makes me laugh.

Thanksgiving

We had the three of us--Dave, H. and me (Ian stayed in OK to work), Grandma, plus four "strays" that Hallie rounded up who couldn't get to their various home towns for Thanksgiving. The dinner was perfection, and a good time was had by all.

Pictured are Grandma filling water glasses (she's pretty cute for almost 77, no?), Hallie and her roommate, Rich, and Dave carving the bird. Oh, and one of the table, just because it was pretty.

WIsh Me Luck!

I am headed out in the rain and chill (a rare So Cal event, indeed!) to blitz my remaining out of town Christmas shopping so I can get it mailed tomorrow!

Spidey, you darling girl, what would we all do without you to remind us slackers to update our blogs? When I get back, I will post my Thanksgiving report, including pictures.

Pedal to the metal

Today I've got to get going on Thanksgiving. Last night I printed out a menu, a schedule and a shopping list. In a minute, as soon as this coffee is finished, I shop, also stopping by Bed Bath and Beyond for a table pad. I've decided to put all the leaves in my dining table this time and put everyone at one big table.

Then I get my hair cut. Then when I get back I do some preliminary food prep (pie crust, the sugar-free, crust-free pumpkin pie for me, brining ingredients for the turkey, etc), and some cleaning. Tomorrow, pick up my mom from the airport, take her to lunch, then come home and assemble some casseroles and bake the pies.

I'm tired just thinking about it!

Bubsy

If I haven't gotten the idea yet, every day he reminds me that he'll be doing this thing in his own way and his own time. Last night he was so weak and droopy he could hardly walk, and I went to bed thinking, "Tomorrow will probably be the day I'll have to take him on his last ride."

This morning, he has spent the morning under my feet in the kitchen, asking for food.

He'll do it when he wants, and not a minute sooner.

If you've never really thought through the full impact of having a pierced nose (and a head cold...)

hallie: Want to know a fun gross little fact

verbqueen: er....I GUESS so....

hallie: If I blow my nose really hard stuff will come out of my nose ring hole

hallie: And get on my cheek

verbqueen: omg

hallie: I just discovered that bc I couldn't figure why I was getting snot all over my face

verbqueen: that is just...creepy

Go for the burn, girl!

Here's my own little Jane Fonda in her "Workout Girl" Halloween costume.

She's almost too cute to stand, isn't she?

35 Pounds!

Took long enough, didn't it? Sheesh.

Beauty Tubes

I have totally fallen for the most ridiculous mascara ever. It's Cover Girl's (I think) Beauty Tubes.

The tube has two ends. At one end is some sort of white foundation substance, and at the other end, regular mascara-colored mascara. You apply the white stuff first, then immediately put the black stuff over it. It made my lashes so long I look like I have on false eyelashes. FUN!

(For those who have little patience/time for make-up, you won't like this two step process. For those who, like me, can spend hours playing with cosmetics, get some! It's way cool!)

I'm weary tonight

I'm pooped and going to bed early tonight--I had a stressful choir day yesterday and didn't sleep well. I've just begun my ninth year of directing the children's/youth music ministries (and growing the programs significantly, too), and I've never had a parent attempt to interfere in my musical decisions about the groups (as in "my child wants to do blahblahblah, and I insist she be given this part/solo/whatever"). Until yesterday. I lay awake and stewed about it all night. My objectives are that the children learn to love music, enjoy liturgical worship and have a fun time. I try to give the ones who are musically gifted the opportunity to use their talent when the occasion arises, but I also try to make sure that before the year is over, every child has a chance to shine in some special way. I don't quite know how to manage this development. My initial instinct is to remove the "special" part that this child/mother are angling for and just do the anthem as a unison anthem, thus eliminating the problem.

But the kids enjoy the challenge of more complicated anthems, so should they all have to miss out so I can avoid this problem? I am NOT putting this particular child on this particular part. It's too difficult for her. She is easily distracted and pays little attention during rehearsal. Yesterday she spent the entire rehearsal playing with a scarf she'd brought with her, which is why I was shocked when I received the call from her mother. I've given her other opportunities in the past, when I felt the part was right for her voice and focus level, so it's not like she's never gotten the chance to do a "special thing."

I just don't know...

Thank you, Dr. A

Thirty pounds as of today!

And in other TV news

I decided over the summer that I would try to watch The Biggest Loser this year. People keep mentioning how inspiring it is, how it led them to change their lives, and so on, so I thought I'd better find out what it's all about.

I have given it two weeks, and I hate it. I think it's dangerous and irresponsible (morbidly obese people running a mile down the beach on their very first day on the program? I could have told them ahead of time that AT LEAST two people would end up transported to the hospital.) I think the trainers are abusive and the exercise regimes are outrageously unreasonable. Four, six hours a day for people who weigh over 300 pounds? I hate the humiliation of the shirtless men and crop-topped women at the weigh-in. And I hate the manufactured interpersonal dramas and the overdramatic background music. But most of all, I hate that the ignorant people watching may believe that this is what you must do to lose weight--a process so heinous that few would even want to try it.

Two Words

HOUSE TONIGHT!

Life is good.

Date Night

So. H has a date tonight with someone who, for once, is NOT ten years older than her (what kind of 30-something wants to date a 23 year old?), is degreed and employed (the last guy lived on a boat), and offered to come pick her up instead of commanding her to drive to his house--which seems to be what dudes do nowadays, at least around here. I feel a strange light-heartedness about this. Cross your fingers it works out nicely and she has fun.

hot mofo

It is 107 degrees in Yorba Linda at this moment. We were going to go to Knotts Berry Farm this evening in honor of Hallie's birthday, but sheesh....maybe an air-conditioned movie would be better.

Grandma and the possum

So my mother just called me to make sure I made it home alive from Mexico, and told me this event in her week.

They had a front blow through Tulsa recently and it brought some much needed rain and really greened everything up. Mom loves animals of all varieties, and spends hours sitting on the patio watching butterflies and bunnies and hummingbirds frolicking amongst the trees, but this week she had a wild animal encounter of a new variety.

One morning just after all the rain came, she took a bag of trash out to the outdoor cans stored at the side of her house. When she lifted the can lid, she saw what was, in her words, "the ugliest, most bedraggled, pathetic-looking animal I've ever seen." Sitting at the bottom of the can, in two inches of garbage and rainwater, was a large possum. It was soaking wet, and so motionless that she thought it was probably dead. It didn't react at all to the lid being removed. She tipped the can and let the water run out, and then rattled the can to try to roust it out, but it just lay there, limp as a noodle. Her heart was broken, and naturally, she became determined to save the poor possum.

She went inside and got a big plate of cat food and set it outside the tipped can. She read on the internet about what possums eat (anything and everything) so she also put a pile of fruits and vegetables out near the cat food. She was heartbroken when the possum didn't move a hair, and showed no interest at all in the banquet she'd laid out. She decided it must be sick or dying, but she went back to her computer to read up more on the world of possums.

As soon as she began to read in depth, she had one of those "DUH!" moments! As we all learned as little kids, when possums are threatened, what do they do? Well of course, THEY PLAY POSSUM!! As soon as she made the connection, she ran back outside, and you can guess it: the cat food was gone, the "possum salad" was gone, and most of all, the possum was gone!

On that day, in that place in Tulsa, Oklahoma, it was a good day to be a possum.

We're leaving tomorrow morning for a week in Mazatlan. (I'm including a photo of the resort, Pueblo Bonito Emerald Bay. It's our third time there--it's gorgeous.) My main focus will be trying to stay on Atkins the whole time we're there. I've actually bought foil packets of tuna, a summer sausage and a bag of nuts to pack in my suitcase. If TSA opens my luggage, they'll think the nut is ME!

See y'all in a week!

20 pounds

Is what I've lost since June 22. I don't know why I ever stop eating Atkins style. It's easy and it make me feel so good. It's not for everyone, so I try not to evangelize, but grains never agreed with my innards, anyway

The orchid tree

My bauhinia is nearly in full bloom now, and I wanted you to see why I won't let them chop it down! For a month or two in high summer, it creates a "wall of bloom" for me to look out on from my kitchen and living areas.

You can certainly see why the pool dude hates it, though. All the spent blossoms fall straight in.

And one last one

And more

Flowers

I'm no gardener, but we have some pretty things blooming right now. This blossom is on my bauhinia, also known as an orchid tree. The pool man hates it, as does the gardener, because it hangs over the pool and drops salmon colored flowers in for a month. But I think it's gorgeous.

Disneyland

We are on our way out the door to Disneyland, in honor of Dave's birthday. In all honesty, I don't much like Disneyland, so I am really crossing my fingers that it's not miserably crowded. If we don't have to stand in 2 hour lines, it might just be a fun day. Ciao!

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

I'm reading the most delightfully absurd book I've ever encountered--titled above. It's making me laugh a lot.

Love Me Linda

So, a couple of days ago I started a massive project--to clean out my really big, overstuffed walk-in closet. Not only do I have an absurd amount of clothes crammed in there (for example, I counted and I had 27 pairs of black pants. Now, they aren't new, fashionable lovely black pants. They're probably every pair of black pants I've bought for the last 15 years. I do like black pants...but that gives you an idea the state it was in.)

I didn't just find clothes. I found not one but three, yes THREE sets of hot curlers PLUS one of those "molecular hairsetters" that were briefly the rage in 90's. I found a Polaroid camera. I found scarves, hats, belts, all kinds of goofy old stuff I didn't know was in there. I had over fifty pairs of shoes, and that doesn't count my rainbow assortment of Old Navy rubber flipflops.

It was just ridiculous, and it felt very cathartic to sort huge piles of give-away and throw-away things. I bought various bins and shelves to organize the things on the closet shelves. I got those slimline fuzzy hangers and threw out all the wire and plastic ones.

Anyway, it was all fun and games till I came across something I didn't remember was in there--my beloved Linda. Linda was my doll--the one I slept with every night and dragged around everywhere with me. I loved every hair off her head--she's bald as a cueball. Her original clothes are long gone, and she's attired in a dubious "dress" I sewed for her somewhere along 4th or 5th grade. I picked her up, shook the dust off her and said to myself, "You are 52 years old. It's time to let the doll go." SO I laid her at the top of the big outdoor trash bin full of clothes I had parked by the back door.

Later in the afternoon, I walked to the bin with another load of stuff, saw her lying there in her horrible homemade dress, and shocked myself by bursting into tears. I realized that 52 or not, I'm not ready to let my dolly go.

I remember when I saw her. It was Christmas Eve 1965 and my goofball dad was doing his annual Christmas Eve trip to the stores to shop for my mother. He did this every Christmas of his life, bless his heart. He actually liked to go out on Christmas Eve to shop. Lord knows how he found anything for her, but he always did. We were in downtown Ft. Worth, at the old Striplings department store (soon to disappear like every other family owned store in America, but still in its heydey then.) It had a beautiful toy department, with fancy, high-end toys. For some reason, I'd gone on my dad's outing with him, and I asked if I could go look at the toys while he shopped. I saw her standing on the counter in a doll stand as soon as I walked in, and I instantly loved her. She was a beautiful doll, with long hair, huge eyes and a blue calico dress with bloomers and tights. I stood there the whole time my dad shopped, gazing at her, but I when he finally came to get me, I didn't ask for her. We lived on a fairly tight budget, and Santa usually brought us one "big" gift, plus a few books and clothes or smaller toys. I had already asked for what I thought was a HUGE gift--a transistor radio. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get any additional spectacular items.

But of course, you can guess the rest. The next morning when I woke up, there, next to the coveted transistor radio, stood Linda. I was so dumbstruck I couldn't even speak. Instead, I cried. I'm fighting a lump in my throat even now, as I type this. My dad has been gone fifteen years now, but looking at my doll brings him right back to me. It's not just that he got me my heart's desire, but that he read it on my face.

Anyway, I picked Linda out of the trashcan, went to the computer and started Googling. By Googling 1960's dolls, I eventually found her. She was a Vogue doll (they made the famous Ginny dolls), and her full name was Love Me Linda. After a little more looking, I even found an entire gallery of photos of her. (Click the link to see her--my Linda had the blue outfit, but she came in some others, too.) Apparently, some people still collect her. Also, I think I may have some hope of being able to one day find her original clothes on Ebay. Maybe I'll even have her hair rerooted.

Not just for me--but in memory of the special Santa of my childhood Christmases.

Happy Juneteenth!

For those of you who have the misfortune of not being born a Texan, here's an explanation of Juneteenth:

Per Wikipedia: Though the Emancipation Proclamation had been issued on September 22, 1862, with an effective date of January 1, 1863, it had minimal immediate effect on most slaves’ day-to-day lives, particularly in Texas, which was almost entirely under Confederate control. Texas was resistant to the Emancipation Proclamation, and though slavery was very prevalent in East Texas, it was not as common in the Western areas of Texas, particularly the Hill Country, where most German-Americans were opposed to the practice. Juneteenth commemorates June 18 and 19, 1865. June 18 is the dayUnion General Gordon Granger and 2,000 federal troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, to take possession of the state and enforce the emancipation of its slaves. On June 19, 1865, legend has it while standing on the balcony of Galveston’s Ashton Villa, Granger read the contents of “General Order No. 3”:

The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of personal rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and hired labor. The freedmen are advised to remain quietly at their present homes and work for wages. They are informed that they will not be allowed to collect at military posts and that they will not be supported in idleness either there or elsewhere.^[10]

That day has since become known as Juneteenth, a name derived from a portmanteau of the words June, eighteenth and nineteenth.

Former slaves in Galveston rejoiced in the streets with jubilant celebrations. Juneteenth celebrations began in Texas the following year.^[10] Across many parts of Texas, freed people pooled their funds to purchase land specifically for their communities’ increasingly large Juneteenth gatherings — including Houston’s Emancipation Park, Mexia’s Booker T. Washington Park, and Emancipation Park in Austin.^[10] Juneteenth celebrations include a wide range of festivities, such as parades, street fairs, cookouts, or park parties and include such things as music and dancing or even contests of physical strength and intellect. Baseball and other popular American games may also be played.

The Sun!

It came out this afternoon and shone for hours--for the first time in two years. 

Ok, ok.  Two weeks.  But it seemed like two years.

It's graduation day

for Aforallie!

Condor and I attended Allie's graduation this afternoon.  She is now a Bachelor of Science in Psychology!  Congrats, Allie!

On this day in 1978

I made the transition from Miss to Mrs.  I was 21 years old, and so was Dave (although he became 22 shortly thereafter.)  What in God's name were we thinking?  Apparently, we mistakenly believed that we were all grown up and fully capable of making important decisions.  In retrospect, what a laugh!  Still, somehow or another it's 31 years later and here we  are.

In other news, I (along with my partner, Mona) won our marathon bridge group for the year, seventy-five bucks apiece.  We had slightly over 27,000 points for the year.  We narrowly missed winning the slam prize, too.  (A slam is placing a bid to take either all 13 of the tricks, for a grand slam, or all but one trick, for a small slam.  You really have to believe in your hand to bid a slam.)  

I love Mona dearly.  She is the most sensible person I've ever known in my entire life, and if I'm ever uncertain about how to proceed with anything in my life, I ask Mona.  When the kids were younger, if we had to go out of town they knew they were to call Mona if any problem arose.  She's always right.  And she's a damned good bridge player, too.

Happy Birthday

To my dad, who would have been 80 years old today.  It's kind of hard to imagine--he was a pretty youthful 64 when the pancreatic cancer got him.

Some years, I bake him a birthday cake (his favorite, chocolate cake with toasted pecan buttercream frosting), but the trouble with that is that I am the one who eats it.

Happy birthday, Daddy.  I still miss you every day.

A sad tale

It starts out happy.  I needed some various around-the-house items (a can of WD40, some screw anchors, that kinda thing) plus was low on some grooming stuff like deodorant, toothpaste, etc., AND needed some groceries, so I decided to take a trip to the Super Walmart in Chino Hills.  It's a pretty good haul--maybe 15 miles--but since I needed such a variety of things, I thought it might be a fun field trip.  And it was!  As I wandered through the store--it's big and I don't really know the layout, so I was drifting--I happened upon an aisle full of tiki and luau themed party goods.  Right before my eyes, two clerks were marking all sorts of things, leis made of little silky flowers, bead necklaces with tiny palm tree and parrot charms on them, Gilligan-style hats made of Hawaiian print fabric, sunglasses with tiny umbrellas on the sides, etc, down to either $.10 or $.25!  Yes, ALL of it was either a dime or a quarter.  

I immediately thought of the fifteen goodie bags I have to make for my choir kids for our upcoming end of the year party, and squealed with delight!  I grabbed 15 leis, 15 Hawaiian hats, 15 necklaces, 15 sunglasses, etc. etc. and threw them into my basket.  I also got all the luau themed paper goods and partyware I'd need to feed all 35 or so kids in our two elementary choirs.  I was SO pleased with myself!  They even had CD's of luau music for a dollar, so I grabbed one of those, too.

I quickly realized, looking at my full to the brim cart, that I would have nowhere to put my groceries and the other things that I'd actually come for unless I grabbed a second cart, and that seemed like a recipe for disaster ("clean-up in aisle 3, clean-up in aisle 3") so after thinking it through, I thought "OK, I will buy all this stuff and put the bags on the shelf under the basket of my cart, then go back through the store and get the other stuff I need and go back through the line to purchase it.  Which I did.  I paid for the stuff, carefully knotted the top of each of the plastic Walmart bags full of luau crap, lined them up in the area under the basket (which I think of as the kitty litter zone) and headed over to the grocery area of the store.  Once I had my whole list checked off, I went back through the checkout line for round two, then out to the car with my many, MANY purchases.

Here's where it gets sad.  I hauled it all in when I got home, put the groceries and household stuff up, and then decided to lay all my adorable goodie bag purchases on the dining room table where I could stand and gaze and marvel over their cuteness AND their astounding cheapness!

But when I laid it all out, there were no 15 adorable little Gilligan hats.  There were no 15 multicolored silky flower leis.  Two of the bags must've fallen off the bottom of my cart.  I was unreasonably upset.  I almost cried.  I called the Walmart and tremulously asked if anyone had turned in my bags.  They had not, of course.  I mean, it's Walmart, for crying out loud.

I told myself, "Calm down.  Easy come, easy go.  It was $3.00 worth of stuff, for heaven's sake."  But I just couldn't forget it.  I kept going out to my car and looking again, hoping I'd somehow overlooked the two bags.   I paced around and worried about it.

You know what I did, right?  I drove 15 miles back to Chino Hills, part of it involving going the wrong way during rush hour, to see if my lost goodies had been found, or if there were any more leis and hats.   They looked at me like I was nuts at Customer Service, but the most disheartening part was the luau aisle.  It was stripped completely clean.  NOTHING was left.  Nothing at all.   One sad, torn lei lay on the floor in front of the empty metal shelving.  

So back into my car I got to drive all 15 miles home, for the second time in a three hour period.

And that's my sad story.

All this bounty on my dining room table, but all I can think of is what I lost...

Our biker hangout of choice

Cook's Corner

(Actually, it's the only biker hangout in our neck of the woods.  Suburban Orange County is not really biker country.)

It's Memorial Day!

And we don't have any plans.  No cookout.  No family gathering.  Nobody dropping by.  Nothing.  Zilch.  Nada.

Sounds pretty nice, doesn't it?  

Star Trek

See it!  If you were a seventies kids who grew up watching reruns of Star Trek every day after school, you will LOVE this movie.  It was SO much fun!

Mother's Day

So I read the rest of what you broards had to say, and I have to agree with the spirit of it all.  It seems a holiday (holiday?  it's not, exactly, is it?) guaranteed to make everyone feel slightly bad about themselves--mothers and everyone in their families.  Whatever you do for your mother, you have this vague feeling that it wasn't quite right, or else it reminds you that your mother is no longer with you and that makes you sad, or if you are a mother, you feel sort of bad about things no matter how it works out.  I feel guilty that I even participate in a day that seems to have been established with the intention of making my family feel bad.

That said, my Mother's Day was a good day.  We didn't really pay much attention to it being Mother's Day because we had to go to a wedding out of town yesterday, and weren't home this morning.  The wedding was in the pretty winery town of Paso Robles, at a very pretty winery and inn.  Because we were only a half hour from San Simeon, we decided on a whim to try to see Hearst Castle while we were in the area, so this morning we got up kind of early and drove over to the coast.  We were uncertain if you could get in without reservations--it used to be rather difficult.  But they've changed the way they organize their tours, and we were able to hop right on a bus and go right up to the castle.  It was a dazzling place, and now I've resolved to re-visit Citizen Kane to get both sides of the William Randolph Hearst story.  (All the propaganda at the castle and its visitor center is very pro-Hearst, naturally.)

One touching moment, though--my sweet, absentminded professor, laid-back hippie son sent me flowers.  I was absolutely astounded.  He's never done anything remotely like that in his entire life.  Just...wow.

Hi. It's me.

The one who never blogs.  The one who got through the entire month of March without updating.

It's been a rough spring for me, but today is brilliantly sunny.  Hallie and I are going to the OC Performing Arts Center to see Avenue Q, which I've heard is quite funny.  Tomorrow is Palm Sunday and my babies are going to be processing with palm branches, plus singing a very nice anthem (called, not surprisingly, Palm Branches.)

Dave wormed out of his ticket to Avenue Q in order to watch the Final Four.  When the Pokes were out of the tournament, I sort of lost interest, although I do have North Carolina to win in one of my brackets.  Our friends are coming over Monday to watch the big game.  I think I'll make pulled pork sandwiches.

Ian has a job that he really, really likes.  But last week he had to work 60 hours.  That's a lot of work.  Hallie is a bit disillusioned with hers, but welcome to being a grownup.  Did I tell you she was on the cover of both the Feb. and March issues of the magazine?  So that's kinda cool.

That's all.  With luck, I'll see you again before May.

Dullsville

Still nothing new around here.  I did the soup diet last week and lost seven pounds.   (For some reason, I love the soup diet.)  I lost another pound this week, but it'll be slow going from here on out, I know.  'Tis the nature of being 51. I fear.

My favorite kitty, the black and white one, is having some dental stuff done under general anesthesia this morning.  I'm nervous about it, and anxious to hear from the vet that it's over.  He looked so tiny and terrified when I left him in his cat carrier this morning.

Dave, Hallie and I went to get our ashes imposed last night, and ate dinner at the Pho place afterward.  Upon looking at our blackened foreheads, the waiter said "Whoa, I didn't know you guys were Catholic.  You don't look Catholic."  Huh?

That's about it.  See, I TOLD you it was dull.

A new post

I know it's time for one.  But I just don't have much to say.

I will say this--I saw the most gigantic double rainbow today that I believe I've ever seen in my life.  Dave, Hallie and I went shopping over by the beach, and on our way back toward the inland foothills, we drove from bright sun into very dark and threatening skies, and right in the middle of that, a huge rainbow with another, paler version next to it!

What did we buy, you ask?  Not very much.  I got two scarves--those long skinny ones.  Hallie got a headband with a big black bow on it, some bobby pins with black flowers on them, and a necklace.  Our purchases were very cheap because they came from Forever 21.  We tried on some clothes in H&M, but didn't like anything.  Seemed like all they had today was an endless variety of cardigans and lots of blouses with short, puffy sleeves.  Dave got a skin for his i-phone.  We had lunch at a vegetarian place, The Veggie Grill, and it was (amazingly) extremely good!

That's about it.  As a parting gift, I leave you with this little ditty from my Oklahoma friend, JimmyBob.  It tickled me.

So You Want Some More, Eh?

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie,

That's amore.

When an eel bites our hand, and that's not what you planned

That's a moray.

When our habits are strange and our customs deranged,

That's our mores.

When your horse munches straw and the bales total four,

That's some more hay.

When Othello's poor wife becomes stabbed with a knife,

That's a Moor, eh?

When a Japanese knight draws his sword in a fight,

That's Sumurai.

When your sheep go to graze in a damp marshy place,

That's  a moor, eh?

When your boat comes home fine and you tie up her line,

That's a moor, eh?

When you ace your last test, like you did all the rest,

That's some more A's.

When on Mt. Cook you see an aborigine,

That's a Maori.

Alley Oop's homeland has a space gun with pizzazz,

That's a Moo-ray.

A comedian ham with the name Amsterdam,

That's a Morey.

When your chocolate graham is so full and so crammed,

That's s'more, hey!

Oh my gosh!

I had comment moderation enabled, somehow, and had no idea anyone had commented.  I don't know how I did it, since I never visit the "settings" page.  Sheesh!

On a more positive note, I'm suddenly feeling FAR less disliked than I had been for the last few weeks!

A special day for America

I cried freely as I watched the ceremony.  What a day.  What a day.

I am ALMOST ashamed

but not quite, to admit that it was 83 degrees in Yorba Linda today.  I wish I could mail a little bit of it to Wisconsin!

it's coming down

Today, the Christmas Crap starts to go away.  I've given considerable thought to how I'm going to do it.  Last year I took the approach of the slow, easy way.  I just grabbed an item or two every time I thought about about it and hauled them to the garage and shoved them in a box.  While it was easy, my stuff got put away in a pretty disorganized way and I had a hard time finding some of it this year.

I've decided that this year, I'm going to focus on one area at a time.  Today, I will return my mantle/hearth and the big cocktail table in my living room to normality.  Once I have closure on those areas, I'll move along to something else.  This year, it's going to be all about the closure.