My goodness, I have been so blessed to have so many great kids in my life. The thing is they are absolutely hilarious. Nolan, my four old, is notorious for saying the unexpected. A year ago he pulled my pajama pants away from my butt and peeked in and said, "hey mom I can see your butt" I said "yep there it is" then he said "well, it wooks fantastic' and I said, "really thanks bud you just made my day!"
The other day my niece announced loudly before we were about to enter the theatre to see "diary of a wimpy kid dog days", which I highly recommend .... hilarious. "I'm probly gonna have to poop now because I've been eating so much."
A few years back my niece was sitting on my dad who was stretched out in the grass and suddenly it occurs to her to ask, "Pops do you have a baby in your belly?" his response, "nope just a bunch of beer."
Even before that in my ex-husbands family there were three aunties pregnant at the same time, two of them had big "sisters waiting one was about 5 and one was about 4 the 4 year old is sitting next to the 5 year old at a party we were having she says, "Alli, do you have a baby in your belly?" Alli responds,"No." her cousin says "well than you can have a beer."
Two winters ago I was in a sour winter -might-never-end sort of mood. We had just been dumped on by another pile of snow and I was shoveling it by had and swearing and grumbling under my breath. Nolan 2 then was parked on top of one the snow banks eating snow like it was going out of style. He says, "mom I'm cold let's go in". I hastily stated,"maybe we should just move somewhere warm!" He goes, "yeah wike in da house".
Then you have the awesome songs they learn. "I'm sexy and I know it", "fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey, wish I had a good girl to miss me"...... ummm what! When did yankee doodle stick a feather up his butt! That's what I want to know!
All I know is that there is an amazing time in a kids life before they start to be embarassed by everything. They are naturally funny and they have no clue how funny they are. This is a time to treasure before long they will be a bunch of wise asses like us. For now they are just plain old funny.
Not even kidding.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
I am farting to stink I'm not kidding
So I happen to be a master at a turn of phrase and not in that cool way.. in that way that your brain must have been having a headstand contest with itself way. I have the innate ability to take any phrase and turn it bass ackwards. In doing this I continuously crack myself up even if I am talking to myself in the mirror (which happens regularly).
My friend Ana never lets me forget my famous "I'm supplised you said that" comment, as every time I get a letter from her she says "bet you're supplised I didn't forget ect. ect."
I have been lucky enough to surround myself with cool cats who seem to have the same problem for example my BFF molly when working at the pharmacy would continuously ask for people's Bird of Daith (quick translation for you slow thinkers Date of Birth) and even her rockin' sister called to "tancel a canning appointment" which of course we all know she was canceling a tanning appointment. Because let's be honest none of us "can" food and we only say tancel when we meant to say tinsel when it's Christmastime and we're more lit up than the tree.
I digress.
Turns out I come from a family of bass ackwardness. We take song lyrics and have them all changed around and quite frankly a lot of those musicians should have called us.. or Weird Al Yankovitch at least. I mean who wouldn't "treat your neighbor like a short mexican" or be watching for a "Secret Asian Man" We read things wrong "Pregnancy... what the.. oh it said Pharmacy." We hear things completely wrong "ohh look like she's a south paw too"... "What! She sells pot too!!" and then we just plain say things wrong "what the hell is a fachita? and still on the books my most famously inappropriate statement to date (and I had to dig):
When working in the second salon of my giant career, God only knows what I was rambling on about but I said "I'm farting to stink I understand". Now how on God's green earth does one make a flubber that makes perfect sense in a very gross way?
NAILED IT!
I'm starting to think you see where I'm going with this.
Maybe acts of danger toward the English language is going to be my super-villian power?
It might be my tup of kea........... not even kidding. :)
My friend Ana never lets me forget my famous "I'm supplised you said that" comment, as every time I get a letter from her she says "bet you're supplised I didn't forget ect. ect."
I have been lucky enough to surround myself with cool cats who seem to have the same problem for example my BFF molly when working at the pharmacy would continuously ask for people's Bird of Daith (quick translation for you slow thinkers Date of Birth) and even her rockin' sister called to "tancel a canning appointment" which of course we all know she was canceling a tanning appointment. Because let's be honest none of us "can" food and we only say tancel when we meant to say tinsel when it's Christmastime and we're more lit up than the tree.
I digress.
Turns out I come from a family of bass ackwardness. We take song lyrics and have them all changed around and quite frankly a lot of those musicians should have called us.. or Weird Al Yankovitch at least. I mean who wouldn't "treat your neighbor like a short mexican" or be watching for a "Secret Asian Man" We read things wrong "Pregnancy... what the.. oh it said Pharmacy." We hear things completely wrong "ohh look like she's a south paw too"... "What! She sells pot too!!" and then we just plain say things wrong "what the hell is a fachita? and still on the books my most famously inappropriate statement to date (and I had to dig):
When working in the second salon of my giant career, God only knows what I was rambling on about but I said "I'm farting to stink I understand". Now how on God's green earth does one make a flubber that makes perfect sense in a very gross way?
NAILED IT!
I'm starting to think you see where I'm going with this.
Maybe acts of danger toward the English language is going to be my super-villian power?
It might be my tup of kea........... not even kidding. :)
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Beagle and Weinie (Hairy and Lloyd.. dumb and dumber)
So about a couple of months ago I got a wild hair up my behinder to get a puppy. I discussed it briefly with Jayke and he didn't completely shut it down so I began scanning the internet for this new family member. At first I was on the lookout for a beagle puppy. Since we already have Hairy-Larry-Stinkenstein who is a 10 year old beagle I thought he needs a com-rad. Then the more I pondered it I decided that he has been a bit of a neurotic freak his entire life (perhaps based on my parenting but I am not going to lay in front of that bus!) So I thought maybe I should look at some other breeds.
One day while perusing the internet I came across Second Hand Hounds... and that's when I laid eyes on Mr. Wienie. Nolan is in love with the movie Open Season Two and there is a ridiculous daschund named Mr. Wienie and there is a nutty lady who cruises around with her husband in a hippy camper who loves the crap out of Mr. Wienie. Nolan relates to Wienie and I relate to nutty lady. :) I didn't name him that he came that way. I simply added Lloyd and Cletus to add a touch of character. However this means that on a regular basis I find myself standing in my underwear at my front door in the wee hours hollering "WIENIE!" while he takes his own sweet time doing his business.
So for anyone who has ever adopted an animal will know this: it is intense! I felt like I had a applied for a job with the CIA. I applied, there's a home check, there's a meet and greet, and if you are still worthy you send them some serious coin and you get a daschund-basset hound mix that you instantly love.
Then some time passes and as all puppies do they begin to settle in.
So the beagle has a serious case of separation anxiety so therefore as soon as I put my shoes on or grab my keys he begins shivering at the horrible dramatic idea that he could be left alone for a whole hour to lounge on his dog bed and mill around my shoppe. Epic I know.
So previously the only battle was beagle chewing trim, scratching doorknobs, taking healthy dumps just because he can, and simply going all out postal. So when asked, "does having another dog around help him with his anxiety?" The answer is "no, now I just have a puppy watching him going 'okay..okay..so that's how we handle our private time.'"
Let's just go over some of the recent findings I have discovered upon leaving Wienie alone: Apparently he has an avid interest in knitting as he continuously weasels his big head into the pockets of the recliner in the living room and takes out all my knitting and trails it all over the room and then proceeds to snack on my bamboo needles. Which weren't cheap and could easily spear him if he isn't careful. These knitting needles look like something left behind by buffy the vampire slayer. (and I'm talking Kristy Swanson not that poser Sarah Michelle Gellar)... anyhow I digress.
I told him if it is absolutely necessary I will enroll him in a community ed knitting course but for the time being I am left unraveling my beautiful wool yarn from in and around my living room furniture.
Then over the weekend my sister stopped to let them out as they had been alone for all of 4 hours apparently Wien decided to pull out some of my old CD's and spread them around everywhere. In this case it would have been nice if he would have taken the time to rip some of the songs I like onto my computer because I just haven't found the time or the patience. How inconsiderate.
Among other things he enjoys coffee filters, stir sticks, the contents of my purse, Nolan's now amputee Sir Angus toy, batteries (that one involved some internet research), my underwear, empty toilet paper rolls, anything cardboard and my newspaper basket is obviously the most delicious snack ever.
This one is currently topping the charts though. He manages to squeeze his over-sized head into the box of coiled cotton in my shoppe and then removes miles of it, tears it up, potentially lays on it and by the time I get in to survey the damages it looks like a snowstorm has occurred in the southern hemisphere of my shoppe.
Kennel them you say?
Oh I have gone that route. The beagle who was a born escape artist frees himself from his metal crate by doing a spastic maneuver of some sort. Upon release he heads to wienie's kennel and using his few teeth he has left squeezes the opening to Wien's kennel and releases him as well. I can't decide whether to commend them for their perseverance or knock their heads together!
God bless em' they keep life interesting.
Not even kidding.
One day while perusing the internet I came across Second Hand Hounds... and that's when I laid eyes on Mr. Wienie. Nolan is in love with the movie Open Season Two and there is a ridiculous daschund named Mr. Wienie and there is a nutty lady who cruises around with her husband in a hippy camper who loves the crap out of Mr. Wienie. Nolan relates to Wienie and I relate to nutty lady. :) I didn't name him that he came that way. I simply added Lloyd and Cletus to add a touch of character. However this means that on a regular basis I find myself standing in my underwear at my front door in the wee hours hollering "WIENIE!" while he takes his own sweet time doing his business.
So for anyone who has ever adopted an animal will know this: it is intense! I felt like I had a applied for a job with the CIA. I applied, there's a home check, there's a meet and greet, and if you are still worthy you send them some serious coin and you get a daschund-basset hound mix that you instantly love.
Then some time passes and as all puppies do they begin to settle in.
So the beagle has a serious case of separation anxiety so therefore as soon as I put my shoes on or grab my keys he begins shivering at the horrible dramatic idea that he could be left alone for a whole hour to lounge on his dog bed and mill around my shoppe. Epic I know.
So previously the only battle was beagle chewing trim, scratching doorknobs, taking healthy dumps just because he can, and simply going all out postal. So when asked, "does having another dog around help him with his anxiety?" The answer is "no, now I just have a puppy watching him going 'okay..okay..so that's how we handle our private time.'"
Let's just go over some of the recent findings I have discovered upon leaving Wienie alone: Apparently he has an avid interest in knitting as he continuously weasels his big head into the pockets of the recliner in the living room and takes out all my knitting and trails it all over the room and then proceeds to snack on my bamboo needles. Which weren't cheap and could easily spear him if he isn't careful. These knitting needles look like something left behind by buffy the vampire slayer. (and I'm talking Kristy Swanson not that poser Sarah Michelle Gellar)... anyhow I digress.
I told him if it is absolutely necessary I will enroll him in a community ed knitting course but for the time being I am left unraveling my beautiful wool yarn from in and around my living room furniture.
Then over the weekend my sister stopped to let them out as they had been alone for all of 4 hours apparently Wien decided to pull out some of my old CD's and spread them around everywhere. In this case it would have been nice if he would have taken the time to rip some of the songs I like onto my computer because I just haven't found the time or the patience. How inconsiderate.
Among other things he enjoys coffee filters, stir sticks, the contents of my purse, Nolan's now amputee Sir Angus toy, batteries (that one involved some internet research), my underwear, empty toilet paper rolls, anything cardboard and my newspaper basket is obviously the most delicious snack ever.
This one is currently topping the charts though. He manages to squeeze his over-sized head into the box of coiled cotton in my shoppe and then removes miles of it, tears it up, potentially lays on it and by the time I get in to survey the damages it looks like a snowstorm has occurred in the southern hemisphere of my shoppe.
Kennel them you say?
Oh I have gone that route. The beagle who was a born escape artist frees himself from his metal crate by doing a spastic maneuver of some sort. Upon release he heads to wienie's kennel and using his few teeth he has left squeezes the opening to Wien's kennel and releases him as well. I can't decide whether to commend them for their perseverance or knock their heads together!
God bless em' they keep life interesting.
Not even kidding.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Ok fine I'll put some pants on.
This title is what I said to myself about twenty minutes ago. I had been spending this lazy,rainy Sunday morning lying in bed with Kerry the Bagel and Queenie (also known as Hairy the Beagle and Weinie his comical sidekick as pronounced by Jayke's adorable niece Khloey), finishing off another great Elin Hilderbrand novel and swigging down black coffee from my old navy insulated mug who's design is slightly wrinkled because someone, and I'm not going to mention any names, put it in the dishwasher even though it is notably not dishwasher safe.
Isn't this just what rainy Sunday's should be for? I "slept in" until 7:30... clearly a sign that I'm getting older. Won't be long and I'll be eating prunes while I wait for the gas station to open so I can get my Sunday paper. Probably bitching about hip pain and wondering why people just aren't on time these days.
I long to be that cool old lady. The one with the long gray braid driving a vintage convertible VW bug. The one who still remembers what it was like to be young. The one who is confident that the world isn't really going to hell in a hand-basket.
I was listening to a podcast one day while I was walking that said that you have 5 people. These are the 5 people in your life that you spend the most time with. These five people can make all the difference in how enjoyable your life is. If they are positive you are more likely to be positive as well as negative. If they look at things a certain way over time you are likely to look at things in the same light. I started thinking, "who are my five people?" Are they bettering me? Am I bettering them? The answer was yes. We have so many influences in our lives. My mom always said that choosing the right person to marry could be a deciding factor in how happy your life would be.
My mom worked as the school librarian. But she was more like a mom and a friend to every high school kid at my school. There were many days when I would tell my friends, "I don't know. Let's go ask my mom." My mom held tissues for many of my friends when they thought they would never get past high school dramas. My mom made kids laugh and unite on different levels even though they were part of completely different crowds. She discussed music, books, celebrities, the future the past and anything that they wanted to open up about. She drug the old box TV in the library on 9/11 and watched the destruction happening with the kids. She made a mark. These "kids" who are not kids anymore still find me all the time and ask me how my mom is doing. They tell me that she got them into reading, that she made them laugh, that she listened to them when no one else would. Was I ever jealous or tired of sharing? Nope. Because I was the lucky one who had someone to listen to me all the time. Not just between the hours of 8 and 3.
These five people that you have could be anyone. You can choose who yours are that's the great part.
My friend Molly is not in the five because I don't get to see her enough to say I spend enough time with her. She is a busy lady running a Coffeehouse and making me so proud all the time. She is indefinitely one of the most positive people I know. After I spend a day with Molly I look at everything with more appreciation. She is one of the most appreciative people and it rubs off. She has this non-cheesy way of always seeing the good in things. Some people are fake Molly is not. She is the real McCoy. She's like a character in a novel that you love but she really exists. We have been best friends since 1st grade and we have had our ups and downs as any friendship does. Starting with her anger at me for cutting off my long hair that matched her long hair before second grade and ending with adult battles over things that looking back were so stupid I can't believe we were dumb enough to be mad about them. For the last several years we have learned to lean on eachother, to share our problems and not try to be perfect and happy if we really aren't. It has made a better bond than ever. There really is nothing I can't tell her and vice-versa.
On the 11th of June it will be two things. My Mom's birthday and two years to the day I moved out of my beautiful cape cod home and into my ancient shop to separate from my ex-husband. One of the biggest lessons I learned in this journey is that the people who truly love you only want to see you happy. Did my leaving make life any easier for my mom or molly? Hell no. By having my back they had people turn their backs to them. For this I will be forever indebted. There are people in your life that will stand behind you no matter what decisions you make, no matter how far you fall, no matter how deep you hurt. I am so very fortunate to have many of these. And once I made my leap good things started to happen. I realized that I wasn't a complete failure for leaving my marriage I was only trying to be true to myself. I knew what I wanted and for years I thought I had it. I had a gorgeous house, a happy husband, a healthy son and a lonely heart. I saw other couples out biking, camping, holding hands, arguing over paint colors, doing home improvement projects together, running side by side, and I was consumed with jealousy. I wanted that. I needed that. I realized that I had sold myself short. I had everything I wanted except someone to enjoy it with. I think I broke his heart and I can't help but feel sad about that. I asked time and time again to spend more time together and the promises were always broken. That's when I realized I was wasting time. We only have so much time in this life to love someone else. If I wasted my days alone when what I wanted was to be half of a whole I was only cheating myself.
Two years ago I packed up my heart and moved on.
I've met someone new now. Someone who argues with me daily, someone who never leaves without saying I love you. Someone who bought a kayak after his first outing just to be by my side. He's someone who listens to me rant, laughs at me when I pull my pajama pants way up and walk around like a dork. He goes on bike rides with me, we have campfires together. I am sharing my life, he is sharing his. It is scary and wonderful.
Turns out I might just have someone next to me someday when I get up early to get the paper (and some prunes) in my VW. :) ..................Not even kidding.
Isn't this just what rainy Sunday's should be for? I "slept in" until 7:30... clearly a sign that I'm getting older. Won't be long and I'll be eating prunes while I wait for the gas station to open so I can get my Sunday paper. Probably bitching about hip pain and wondering why people just aren't on time these days.
I long to be that cool old lady. The one with the long gray braid driving a vintage convertible VW bug. The one who still remembers what it was like to be young. The one who is confident that the world isn't really going to hell in a hand-basket.
I was listening to a podcast one day while I was walking that said that you have 5 people. These are the 5 people in your life that you spend the most time with. These five people can make all the difference in how enjoyable your life is. If they are positive you are more likely to be positive as well as negative. If they look at things a certain way over time you are likely to look at things in the same light. I started thinking, "who are my five people?" Are they bettering me? Am I bettering them? The answer was yes. We have so many influences in our lives. My mom always said that choosing the right person to marry could be a deciding factor in how happy your life would be.
My mom worked as the school librarian. But she was more like a mom and a friend to every high school kid at my school. There were many days when I would tell my friends, "I don't know. Let's go ask my mom." My mom held tissues for many of my friends when they thought they would never get past high school dramas. My mom made kids laugh and unite on different levels even though they were part of completely different crowds. She discussed music, books, celebrities, the future the past and anything that they wanted to open up about. She drug the old box TV in the library on 9/11 and watched the destruction happening with the kids. She made a mark. These "kids" who are not kids anymore still find me all the time and ask me how my mom is doing. They tell me that she got them into reading, that she made them laugh, that she listened to them when no one else would. Was I ever jealous or tired of sharing? Nope. Because I was the lucky one who had someone to listen to me all the time. Not just between the hours of 8 and 3.
These five people that you have could be anyone. You can choose who yours are that's the great part.
My friend Molly is not in the five because I don't get to see her enough to say I spend enough time with her. She is a busy lady running a Coffeehouse and making me so proud all the time. She is indefinitely one of the most positive people I know. After I spend a day with Molly I look at everything with more appreciation. She is one of the most appreciative people and it rubs off. She has this non-cheesy way of always seeing the good in things. Some people are fake Molly is not. She is the real McCoy. She's like a character in a novel that you love but she really exists. We have been best friends since 1st grade and we have had our ups and downs as any friendship does. Starting with her anger at me for cutting off my long hair that matched her long hair before second grade and ending with adult battles over things that looking back were so stupid I can't believe we were dumb enough to be mad about them. For the last several years we have learned to lean on eachother, to share our problems and not try to be perfect and happy if we really aren't. It has made a better bond than ever. There really is nothing I can't tell her and vice-versa.
On the 11th of June it will be two things. My Mom's birthday and two years to the day I moved out of my beautiful cape cod home and into my ancient shop to separate from my ex-husband. One of the biggest lessons I learned in this journey is that the people who truly love you only want to see you happy. Did my leaving make life any easier for my mom or molly? Hell no. By having my back they had people turn their backs to them. For this I will be forever indebted. There are people in your life that will stand behind you no matter what decisions you make, no matter how far you fall, no matter how deep you hurt. I am so very fortunate to have many of these. And once I made my leap good things started to happen. I realized that I wasn't a complete failure for leaving my marriage I was only trying to be true to myself. I knew what I wanted and for years I thought I had it. I had a gorgeous house, a happy husband, a healthy son and a lonely heart. I saw other couples out biking, camping, holding hands, arguing over paint colors, doing home improvement projects together, running side by side, and I was consumed with jealousy. I wanted that. I needed that. I realized that I had sold myself short. I had everything I wanted except someone to enjoy it with. I think I broke his heart and I can't help but feel sad about that. I asked time and time again to spend more time together and the promises were always broken. That's when I realized I was wasting time. We only have so much time in this life to love someone else. If I wasted my days alone when what I wanted was to be half of a whole I was only cheating myself.
Two years ago I packed up my heart and moved on.
I've met someone new now. Someone who argues with me daily, someone who never leaves without saying I love you. Someone who bought a kayak after his first outing just to be by my side. He's someone who listens to me rant, laughs at me when I pull my pajama pants way up and walk around like a dork. He goes on bike rides with me, we have campfires together. I am sharing my life, he is sharing his. It is scary and wonderful.
Turns out I might just have someone next to me someday when I get up early to get the paper (and some prunes) in my VW. :) ..................Not even kidding.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Today I did something that I haven't done since I was 19 (no mom I did not get another tattoo on my toe:).
Today I got out of bed grabbed by ipod, my book and my messenger bag and hopped on my bike. I rode all the way to Moose Lake in the morning sunshine on the lovely Willard Munger Trail. I threw on some tunes from my boy Jack Johnson (who still doesn't respond to my requests of marriage) and set off on the trail on my pink cruiser bike that was spray painted by yours truly.
I have been running to train for the Grandma's Half Marathon but I was ready to switch it up today. My route was about 18 miles. I toodled my way into Moose Lake and then realized how famished I was. I headed into market place and came out with some fresh fruit, some bagels, and a SOBE beverage. As many of you know I stand behind my latest diet of beef sticks, almonds and string cheese however occasionally one must falter. I grabbed my goodies and headed back to my favorite bench near the river. It is a great spot because it looks out on a grand opening of the water and today as luck would have it there were a couple of good looking mallards hanging out. As luck wouldn't have it some fella had the nerve to p ark his behinder on my bench. So I had to pretend to be a photographer who stopped for a drink until he was either A) Done with his rest or B) Creeped out by me the potential homeless chick carrying a bag of groceries on her bike. Needless to say he moved on and I parked myself and my breakfast on "my bench" which to be honest has seen her better days. A large portion on one side is missing and it has all sorts of stuff carved in it. So basically we're made for each other.
This is the same bench that I biked to and rollerbladed to in the past. I started thinking why it had been so long since I had done this. Well there were many reasons. Work, my son, many projects that could be worked on. It made me think that the things that we enjoy at 19 are the same things we really enjoy at 29 but we stop prioritizing them. They become those things that you think "oh yeah I should do that again" or you see someone else doing that and you bitterly think "must be nice to be them". Why is it that we stop saying yes to things we want to do and start saying yes to things we don't want to do. Guilt, perhaps? And what do we achieve by doing this... resentment.
I have met some really amazing people doing what I do. Honestly there are some of them that I look at my book for the day and I think "YES!" because I know that we will have awesome conversations about real things and we will laugh and sometimes cry but always will find comfort in sharing our lives. Many of them "Get It". They might not get to do what they want when they want all the time but they have realized that they have the power to choose how happy they are.
I realize that I am an adult. I have a business to run. I have a house to clean, a yard to mow, a son to raise but that doesn't mean I can't find ways to have some peaceful me time. Today that was what it was about. And in doing so I feel that the other avenues of my life benefit.
So today I leave you with an excerpt from something that my brother had laminated in his belongings when we were going through his stuff we found and it has become a bit of a mantra... not even kidding. So enjoy:
"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still there. So get out there and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forrest, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, run the rivers, breathe deep of that sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk bound people with their hearts in a safety deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."
Today I got out of bed grabbed by ipod, my book and my messenger bag and hopped on my bike. I rode all the way to Moose Lake in the morning sunshine on the lovely Willard Munger Trail. I threw on some tunes from my boy Jack Johnson (who still doesn't respond to my requests of marriage) and set off on the trail on my pink cruiser bike that was spray painted by yours truly.
I have been running to train for the Grandma's Half Marathon but I was ready to switch it up today. My route was about 18 miles. I toodled my way into Moose Lake and then realized how famished I was. I headed into market place and came out with some fresh fruit, some bagels, and a SOBE beverage. As many of you know I stand behind my latest diet of beef sticks, almonds and string cheese however occasionally one must falter. I grabbed my goodies and headed back to my favorite bench near the river. It is a great spot because it looks out on a grand opening of the water and today as luck would have it there were a couple of good looking mallards hanging out. As luck wouldn't have it some fella had the nerve to p ark his behinder on my bench. So I had to pretend to be a photographer who stopped for a drink until he was either A) Done with his rest or B) Creeped out by me the potential homeless chick carrying a bag of groceries on her bike. Needless to say he moved on and I parked myself and my breakfast on "my bench" which to be honest has seen her better days. A large portion on one side is missing and it has all sorts of stuff carved in it. So basically we're made for each other.
This is the same bench that I biked to and rollerbladed to in the past. I started thinking why it had been so long since I had done this. Well there were many reasons. Work, my son, many projects that could be worked on. It made me think that the things that we enjoy at 19 are the same things we really enjoy at 29 but we stop prioritizing them. They become those things that you think "oh yeah I should do that again" or you see someone else doing that and you bitterly think "must be nice to be them". Why is it that we stop saying yes to things we want to do and start saying yes to things we don't want to do. Guilt, perhaps? And what do we achieve by doing this... resentment.
I have met some really amazing people doing what I do. Honestly there are some of them that I look at my book for the day and I think "YES!" because I know that we will have awesome conversations about real things and we will laugh and sometimes cry but always will find comfort in sharing our lives. Many of them "Get It". They might not get to do what they want when they want all the time but they have realized that they have the power to choose how happy they are.
I realize that I am an adult. I have a business to run. I have a house to clean, a yard to mow, a son to raise but that doesn't mean I can't find ways to have some peaceful me time. Today that was what it was about. And in doing so I feel that the other avenues of my life benefit.
So today I leave you with an excerpt from something that my brother had laminated in his belongings when we were going through his stuff we found and it has become a bit of a mantra... not even kidding. So enjoy:
"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still there. So get out there and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forrest, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, run the rivers, breathe deep of that sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk bound people with their hearts in a safety deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Peace Rockin' in the Glamper
The title of this is Peace Rockin' in the Glamper for two important reasons. Number one my brother used to come into my room all the time and look around at the fairy lights and the zodiac charts and the incense and shrug his shoulders and say "God, you are SUCH a peace-rocker". Not sure if that was good or not. My room was often a highlight of the home tour for our household. I had tourquoise walls, furniture with poetry painted on it, enough clear lights to outdo the Christmas Display at Menards, a poster of Melissa Etheridge (that I got as a gift from a friend and later realized all through high school it probably made me look like I was playing for the other team), more candles than Yankee, Cranberries music playing but occasionally letting Alanis Morrisette sneak in with a few angry lyrics, dried roses hung from the ceiling... are you getting a visual now? It was like entering Narnia. I loved it and I am amazed how much my parents let my creative energy fly even if it was a fire hazard.
Secondly this whole "glamper" terminology created solely by my mother to state how glamorous our old camper was has taken on a new life this week. I am happy to report that my renovations of the Peace Rockin' Glamper are nearly complete! Now I can be released into the dollar store to get the accessories!
The plan started out without a plan really. I went over to my parents one day to clean the camper and come up with a plan. Now mind you upon arrival in my Jeep I had no receiver hitch so I was probably was not taking this shaggin' wagon home. My Dad who was more than willing to have it removed from his field STAT went directly to the shed and appeared with a receiver hitch from an old truck they didn't have anymore. Before my very eyes he scrambled underneath the Jeep and began cranking away..... I returned home with not only a Glamper but a 1971 16 foot Model Grand Prix Lowliner. How do you like those apples?
Since I don't believe in any grass growth under the toes I took strait to my renovations. (and when I say renovations I mean paint paint and more paint and then sticky tiles and some light sewing and a dash of Pine Sol). Badda bing badda bamm badda boom the glamper is becoming a pretty sweet ride... except that you really aren't legally supposed to ride in them while you're moving but you smell what I'm steppin' in right?
I ordered the fabric for the curtains tonight and I can't wait to take it on the Maiden Voyage! I am even such a cool cat that I listened to the pandora station "road trippin' radio" the whole time (for inspirational purposes).
One of my final steps is this: My parents had this camper for about 15 years. Before this lovely beast came into our lives it was the product of Betty and Jack LaRock. Betty was a grandma at my school when I was in elementary and my mom used to take me to her and Jack's house all the time when I was a kid. I loved their house. They had homemade toys I had never seen before and cool things everywhere you looked. They are now in an assisted living facility together. Betty and Jack are cool people. They did all sorts of decorating when they had the camper too. So my plan is to make them a scrapbook of the restoration and send it to them with before and after photos. I think they might enjoy the fact that their camper is still out cruisin' the highways and checkin' out state parks. Not even kidding.
Also on a side note, not even kidding, I might drop kick my computer and my camera out into the yard because for the love of cheese I can't seem to upload a gall dang picture (or 24) of what I have been working on and trying to show you GRRR ... keep posted I may be reporting back (hopefully with images and not without electronic devices that no longer work due to said "drop-kick".)
Secondly this whole "glamper" terminology created solely by my mother to state how glamorous our old camper was has taken on a new life this week. I am happy to report that my renovations of the Peace Rockin' Glamper are nearly complete! Now I can be released into the dollar store to get the accessories!
The plan started out without a plan really. I went over to my parents one day to clean the camper and come up with a plan. Now mind you upon arrival in my Jeep I had no receiver hitch so I was probably was not taking this shaggin' wagon home. My Dad who was more than willing to have it removed from his field STAT went directly to the shed and appeared with a receiver hitch from an old truck they didn't have anymore. Before my very eyes he scrambled underneath the Jeep and began cranking away..... I returned home with not only a Glamper but a 1971 16 foot Model Grand Prix Lowliner. How do you like those apples?
Since I don't believe in any grass growth under the toes I took strait to my renovations. (and when I say renovations I mean paint paint and more paint and then sticky tiles and some light sewing and a dash of Pine Sol). Badda bing badda bamm badda boom the glamper is becoming a pretty sweet ride... except that you really aren't legally supposed to ride in them while you're moving but you smell what I'm steppin' in right?
I ordered the fabric for the curtains tonight and I can't wait to take it on the Maiden Voyage! I am even such a cool cat that I listened to the pandora station "road trippin' radio" the whole time (for inspirational purposes).
One of my final steps is this: My parents had this camper for about 15 years. Before this lovely beast came into our lives it was the product of Betty and Jack LaRock. Betty was a grandma at my school when I was in elementary and my mom used to take me to her and Jack's house all the time when I was a kid. I loved their house. They had homemade toys I had never seen before and cool things everywhere you looked. They are now in an assisted living facility together. Betty and Jack are cool people. They did all sorts of decorating when they had the camper too. So my plan is to make them a scrapbook of the restoration and send it to them with before and after photos. I think they might enjoy the fact that their camper is still out cruisin' the highways and checkin' out state parks. Not even kidding.
Also on a side note, not even kidding, I might drop kick my computer and my camera out into the yard because for the love of cheese I can't seem to upload a gall dang picture (or 24) of what I have been working on and trying to show you GRRR ... keep posted I may be reporting back (hopefully with images and not without electronic devices that no longer work due to said "drop-kick".)
Thursday, March 22, 2012
The best thing I have going.
So obviously I have been completely slacking on my posts. Which should come as no surprise as I haven't written in my journal for a coon's age. Which some would say is a good sign because often times if you see me writing in that I am most likely bitching incessantly about someone or something. Which is why they are fun to read and can only be published if I kick the can or all names are changed!!
I have the luck of having a four year old. He is spunky and dramatic (no idea where that comes from). He is hilarious and kind. Last weekend (and by that I mean thursday-monday we are lucky enough to have really long weekends together) we went outside and hardly came back in. We went four-wheeling, we camped out, we shopped, we went to church, we went out to eat, we walked, we played, we loved.
Sunday night he was in the bathtub and I was sitting on the toilet talking to him and I am not sure what brought it up but he said something about if he died. I said "don't do that because then Mom wouldn't have anything to live for" he says "yeah but you'd have Jayke and beagle" I said "but I wouldn't have you and then I wouldn't be me"
After sobbing my way through my mom's blog today it makes me think how she is the most amazing woman I know. She did go into a dark cave when my brother passed away but she has found her way out. That takes courage and strength. Not a lot of people could fight their way out of that.
I got pregnant with Nolan about five months after Mike's accident. I didn't know what I was having and I didn't want to know. He has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I watch him go about his life and there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't think or say," I wish mike could be here to see you". or "God Mike would have gotten such a kick out of you." Maybe he can, maybe he does I sure hope so. But I know one thing; I can and I do and I love.
Not even kidding.
I have the luck of having a four year old. He is spunky and dramatic (no idea where that comes from). He is hilarious and kind. Last weekend (and by that I mean thursday-monday we are lucky enough to have really long weekends together) we went outside and hardly came back in. We went four-wheeling, we camped out, we shopped, we went to church, we went out to eat, we walked, we played, we loved.
Sunday night he was in the bathtub and I was sitting on the toilet talking to him and I am not sure what brought it up but he said something about if he died. I said "don't do that because then Mom wouldn't have anything to live for" he says "yeah but you'd have Jayke and beagle" I said "but I wouldn't have you and then I wouldn't be me"
After sobbing my way through my mom's blog today it makes me think how she is the most amazing woman I know. She did go into a dark cave when my brother passed away but she has found her way out. That takes courage and strength. Not a lot of people could fight their way out of that.
I got pregnant with Nolan about five months after Mike's accident. I didn't know what I was having and I didn't want to know. He has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I watch him go about his life and there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't think or say," I wish mike could be here to see you". or "God Mike would have gotten such a kick out of you." Maybe he can, maybe he does I sure hope so. But I know one thing; I can and I do and I love.
Not even kidding.
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