2014…are ya KIDDING? It was JUST 1999!!!

Sadly, we come to this evening with another night of obligatory writing. Where has my writing rhythm gone? I was so good on the two times a month vibe, for so long, I am certainly not going to fail myself now, but it sure does seem that the past couple of months have been low on the inspiration meter. Or have they? I mean, the past two months, we have had exactly ONE free weekend. Perhaps the thing is, that there is much to reflect upon, just very little time to do it.

I suppose life could be worse.

On that note, tonight I am on the eve of yet another writing project. I bought, while out Christmas shopping, a one line a day 5 year memory journal. Should be good for me, the girl who can remember song lyrics ad nauseam, but can't recall what she had for breakfast yesterday. I look forward to the idea of pen and paper writing. I look forward to the idea of recording both the marvelous and the mundane. I look forward to having a place to notate gratitude. I look forward to a record, a review, a reminder of what has been going on in this crazy little life we lead.

And I look forward to the mystery. I mean, it is hard to imagine where will life even BE in 5 years! It is nothing I would want to know now, but surely something that will be fascinating to behold, and I feel I need to start to brace myself and hold on tight. Much lies ahead. And with the rate time flies lately, 5 years will be here and gone in a blink of the eye.

Again, life could be worse.

As we celebrate New Year's Eve, my favorite holiday, the holiday of hope, of reflecting and looking ahead, a planner's holiday for sure, I also hold out hope for humor in the new year. We JUST finished watching "Grumpy Old Men" with the kids, and if that 5 year one line journal can record a few zingers that would rival Burgess Meridith's gag reel at the end of the movie, I do think my life would be complete.

To 2014. L'chaim, L'chiam, to LIFE!

Depleted Air Supply

It has been kind of odd, this year, having NO time in between Thanksgiving and Advent.

I am a big believer in not forgetting about Thanksgiving, and have my personal rules, like actually decorating for Thanksgiving, and not playing holiday music until December 1st. But this year December 1st brought a Sunday. And December 2nd brought back to work Monday. December 3rd was a Tuesday recovery from said backlash, and today was really the first day I realized we are actually well into both secular and sacred Advent.

Oh sure, we did the advent wreath at my mom's on Sunday for dinner, and discussed our HOPES for the coming weeks, but it was not until Wednesday that it really sank in. It sank on two levels too.

Sunday, my attitude was a little bit dark and snark, and my dinnertime HOPE was that the coming three weeks pass easily, referring to working with kids that are too excited to focus. But my HOPE as the week has progressed has focused on a kid, a student at our school, a former student's brother, my daughter's friend, who is in the hospital fighting. Yeah, HOPE can spin on a dime it seems.
Still, this kid is a trooper. Kids are. They fight, they rally, they bounce back, and as much as we adults worry and wring our hands, they get the job done. And for some reason, deep down, I know that is what this little one is going to do.

SO that being said, and knowing he is one with a FINE sense of humor, I will turn to my other back to life moment today. On my way to work, realizing that it really was December 4th and I had yet to un-attic my holiday music I decided to tune to Y94 FM, Central NY's home of continuous Christmas music. How bad could it be?

Can we say Air Supply singing "Winter Wonderland?" No one needs to hear that. Then it segued into "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree," in my opinion one of the most overplayed bad songs to grace our holiday playlists. Just because it says ROCK doesn't mean it has to be on your ROCK holiday playlist. I blame iTunes. I blame Genius.

I changed the channel.

My ride to work is short, so by this time I had arrived, and made my way in to my classroom, where I was free to play any holiday tunes I wished. And truth be told, even with the small selection I have ripped onto the network, I have a better variety than good old Y94. They ought to give me a call. The day continued on, actually, interestingly, filled with holiday music. It was the day for it, it seems. We listened during work, we attended a K-3 holiday concert rehearsal. My students and I anticipated, and then were a bit disappointed not to hear, a perennial favorite, "Snowpants," as it was not sung by this year's first grade.

But then again, was that perhaps just a little life lesson…for every year, change comes our way.

Sometimes, advent sneaks up and surprises us. Just like life. And sometimes our personal rules get the best of us. But always, if we are looking, if we are aware, the universe hits us, with a visual, or a situation, or a song, and it lets us know that as much as we may like to think we are in charge, in so many ways we are not. We influence our time here, we choose how to accept the events of our life, but at the root, we deal with what we are dealt.

And sometimes it is a quick calendar.
Sometimes it is a really really really crappy health crisis.
Sometimes it is Air Supply at 7:50 AM.

How we choose to accept what we are dealt is what makes us who we are.
And today, I chose song, and music, and all the joy that comes with it.
And I suggest, especially in this season of advent, that you all do too.
Just please, for the love of God, avoid the Air Supply.

Steve Miller Living

For our whole relationship, Tim and I have loved Steve Miller Band, and we have always connected with a certain song as well.
"True Fine Love."

Seems the lyrics have always rung true.


"We'll have a boy for you,
We'll have a girl for me.
Come on babe, let's raise a family."


Yep, anyone who knows me knows Dev is my boy, and Gwynn is, in so many ways, Tim's Mini Me.

Except when it comes to a day like today. When Tim and Dev spend an ENTIRE day outside…hunting, and planting, and yarding. And Gwynn and I spend an ENTIRE day inside, cleaning, and baking, and cooking, while watching ever too much of a series TV show on DVD.

Still, even with that much "together time" going on, on the two opposite ends of the gender norm spectrum, what it really comes down to is family. Raising a family. Growing people. Showing them what it is we each know, in order to help them grow.

It disgusts me sometimes that what we do for a profession is what we do every day…day in, and day out. But none the less it is, and was, and ever shall be.

He is me, and also him.
She is him, and also me.

Well, until, on a day OFF, she MUST fit in her run, and I choose to skip yoga.

Yeah, still got some growing to do I guess.

Seeking

We are drawing nearer to that time of year again, where I question faith.

I don't really question it for myself, but for my family, my children. And in that, the question becomes what have I done for them? Now don't get me wrong, the kids were both baptized, and went to Sunday school for quite a few years. They have attended many services, weddings, funerals, even pastoral installations for goodness sake, but, in more recent years, things have been semi inconsistent. So on further examination, my question becomes, what faith have I grown them in? How will they answer the big questions as they get older?

If push comes to shove, and I am really faced with my own self, and my own thoughts and beliefs, and deep truths, I'd say they have been raised in the faith of family. But what makes it so hard to accept that is that I only know how I came to my own peace with faith and higher power from my own experiences. And I came to most of my faith and understandings in and around regular, old church.

As an elementary aged kid, not only were Friday sleepovers better because you could watch Dukes of Hazzard, but also if you had a friend sleepover on Saturday night, Sunday church was de riguir. In high school, Saturday nights out with friends were shrouded in the wet blanket of knowing that no matter how late you were up, or out...no matter how few or many VHS movies were rented or watched by the group, I would be expected to be up, and out, and functional for pew time, and Sunday School, complete with Bible Trivia, Sunday morning.

At the time it was a chore, and in college it was mostly abandoned, with the exception of a few trips with a friend to the on campus chapel, and several desperate "Please God let me not be pregnant" moments.

Still, all my life, no matter how long I am away, I have had that draw. I crave chruch at times. This time of year, fall, with November's reflection, and then December's waiting and anticipation. Sometimes, just to sit in a sacred place is peace for me.

And I want that for my kids, I want them to feel. I want them to have a deep inner draw, but at times I wonder, what will be their deep inner draw be?
Does my seeking out of "regular old church" happen because of the way I was raised, because of that pew time entirely, or in part is it just who I am, what I am?

And therefore, with some, but less, and more broken pew time, will my children feel the same pull?

And do they need to?

Will they want to?

I guess, this is really where faith works its way in. I have to have faith that they do have something, and that all their life they will have something, and that they will find their own way. But at the same time, and with my outwardly confident but inwardly quaking, questioning self, like so many things in parenting, I just want to know.

We joke that CBS Sunday morning has become our "church" these days, after finding our local church just wasn't meeting our needs. And sometimes I think that, maybe, our children will take more from that. From "Family Church" times. We sit and watch, and are inspried in myriad ways; politically, musically, artistically, and surely spiritually. When they have those short segments that speak to basic human kindness, I always catch my son's furtive glance. Is mom tearing up? Is this hitting her? I know that is part concern, part worry, but also part barometer. Should this hit me? What does she feel? Do I feel the same? Should I feel the same? Isn't that an education? Isn't that moral guidance? What else are we looking for in religion? In church? Spiritual Education? Moral Guidance? Quiet? Peace?

I am reminded of a fireside song, from my church camp days..."Seek and Ye shall find...knock and the door shall be opened...ask and it shall be given and the love will come a tumblin' down." I suppose that is where I need to let it lie for now. In the seeking, I will eventually find. And so will they, as so many have before them. And they will make their own sense of the world, and of religion, and of faith. There will continue to be my husband and my influences now, and myriad influences as they begin to make their way out into our world. And I need to, and DO trust, that the roots I have given them, we have given them, may be different roots, but are roots that in one way or another will surely help them grow.

And as we continue to seek, and to find, I know, the love, as it always has, will continue to come a tumblin' down.

The Doing...is the Hardest Part

The perpetual doing is getting to me these days. The rat race has hit, full force fall edition, these past few weeks. And I couldn't help but notice that yesterday was so illustrative. On a day we finally had "free" we had to go get some groceries, since the prior weekend was busy as well, and we had just grabbed the essentials. It left this weekend ripe for the dreaded "big shop," and we dropped about $300 at the grocery store. We went, and we did, and on the way home we had to get Chinese, because to face cooking after all that shopping was just unimaginable.

We got home, and in our absence the kids had kept the laundry running, but the washer, or utility sink, had and issue, and overflowed. They handled the situation pretty well, but then cleaning the mess led to a full pull out of the "laundry/mud/entry/dump everything room," and what consumed our Saturday night is still where we are today. Within that job, I have come across a favorite pair of boots that have collected substantial mildew in their not so ideal summer storage spot, and I am on to trying to fix that.

Trying to patch the unpatchable, fix the unfixable, finish the unfinishable. I guess life is about the unfinishable, about the doing, but it just is so never ending at times. Once the groceries are bought, they are eaten, and must be bought again. Once the laundry is done, it is folded, and perhaps even put away. But then it is worn, and the never-ending process repeats. Once a season ends, the switch of clothes and supplies must happen, and will happen, around 4 months later, once again.

I know I should achieve zen, and create a mantra. I know that in the doing I should find peace, but today, I just am annoyed. Today I am just hunkered down in the mildew.

Funny, I walked away from this post for a while and in the interim, the washer issue reared its ugly head again. What we thought was an overflow caused by a sock blocking the sink drain, was actually a leak in a pipe in the wall. It overflowed, again, this time leaking into the first floor bathroom as well. This time, messing up the JUST cleaned up and shampooed utility room carpet. Creating yet another episode of doing. And ya know, right now I am almost at the point of laughing it off. Appaerently this is life right now. Music is playing as we work, and Tom Petty croons that the waiting is the hardest part. Seems to me, it is actually the doing. As busy as I am, should I call Tom up, ask if I could record a remake of his song? As an older guy, with myriad responsibilities of his own, would he come record it with me?

Good thing Gwynn made some baked goods, cause apple cake and toffee brownies just might be what's for dinner. Washed down with some scotch.

School Picture Serenade

So we reached that day today, the day that strikes fear in the hearts of many. Today was school picture day. It seems that we just got over first day hell, and now, a mere three weeks later we are faced with a similar stressor of a day. A certain perfection must be attained, the type at least that demands archiving, photography,and quite frankly; today, last year, every year, I was just not ready.

Digital photography of course is funny, though. "Kids these days", can "look" at their photo, before they have even left the stool, and decide, with the ever patient, or possibly partially deaf, school picture photographer, if the picture is up to snuff. No one will walk away with a picture like mine from Kindergarten; cute as a button dress, dreadful pixie cut, self inflicted since I cried so much when mom tried to brush my thick hair, and, flutteringly closed eyes. Retakes? Nope. Missed that day sick. So those pictures remain as my Kindergarten chronicle. Today's kids just don't know how much that delete key does for them. Or maybe they will grow up with these picture perfect childhoods that didn't really exist? All remains to be seen. But regardless, I still hate picture day.

Last night Gwynn and I had the annual "WHAT are you WEARING" showdown. It plays out pretty much like this. She has an idea of what she wants to wear. The desired clothes, naturally, are not clean. Then my laundry irritation, seen as judgement, prompts new clothing being chosen, dismissed, and consequently yelled at. Seriously. I am pretty sure we had the exact same argument last year the night before picture day.

Devin wore a polo. It's so easy for him...for guys in general. I am pretty sure when we lay all the pictures out once this years offerings are processed, printed and delivered, he has worn a differently colored polo for the last, well, every year. I am pretty proud that they have been differently colored if you really want to know. We had a steep learning curve after all, in particular when it comes to not fighting the seasonality of the date. In Pre-K I had a nice long sleeved rugby picked out for him to wear. Yet, only three weeks into school, picture day was one of those end of September still HOT days, and he walked into his classroom professing "It's frickin' hot in here!" Changes were made that day. Mommy reigned in her mouth. But really, aside from a rugby, for a boy, it's a button down, or a polo. And I am pretty sure that proportionally, seasonally, over the years, polos have won out.

Today came. Today went. Lessons were interrupted with the flash of a bulb. PE classes happened and ruined hair. Spaghetti with Meatballs happened and ruined outfits. And, frustrations aside, we gave it our best shot. We smiled for the camera, looking as fresh and new as three weeks into school can possibly look. I'd suggest, though, that if you really want a chronicle of the year, you should check back in a few months. We'll have either hit our stride, or stumbled along the path. Still, regardless of the outcome, today is frozen in time, encapsulated on virtual celluloid. Look and you will see smiles. Full of the frantic frustration that picture day brings, but behind each of them, a glimmer of the year to come. Perhaps, behind those smiles you will see something else, something integral to a succesful year? You will have to look closely, but if you do you will see it. You will see HOPE.

September Journaling

September Journaling

1 It is a beautiful sunny day and we are at camp with our family, what more could one ask for, wish for, be grateful for? Welcome September!

2 Tonight, I unpack my travel bag, fully, for the first time in 3 weeks. As sad as that makes me, it is a happy feeling as well, in particular as I also flip the calendar to a SO FAR unencumbered month. I look forward to fall tonight, and some time at home for a change.

3 Today was a crazy, full, busy, hectic, non-stop day...but very positive and productive...I feel I am on my way towards a great school year. Tomorrow brings students...I feel ready, but whew, the first week of school is exhausting. As a side note, it is equally exhausting to get a 7th grade girl and a 10th grade boy ready for day one...possibly more so.

4 I have fully become my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Snover. Brought a second pair of shoes to school today thinking the first pair just might not make it comfort wise. They did not. Guess I really am getting a little older. Then again it WAS the first day back today after a summer of flip flops. Will reserve judgment for now, particularly since it is also 9:30 and I am off to bed. Yep. Old.

5 So today was another good day, but I still think that "Summer" to "School" in three days with kids, is much like 0-60 in under three seconds.

6 Ahhhh, to make it to Friday on the first week of school, even with a Friday evening contract meeting, is an accomplishment that deserves reward. Bombay Sapphire Martini it is, with three BIG 'OL olives! Made a yummy egg scramble too, and home fries from leftover salt potatoes. Frugal kitchen, Lush Liquor Cabinet...that's how I roll!

7 Why, on my self proclaimed day OFF from teaching, am I drinking my morning coffee and pinning teaching ideas on Pinterest? Why? Cause it is DAMN FUN!

8 I have always been one to get the "Sunday Grumpies," but today, Tim and I thought up the "Sun-Date!" We had to go to Staples to buy a new desk chair, but tied in lunch at Rudy's, watching the waves from our car with the sunroof open. Great little date. "Sun-Dates" will surely continue into our future!

9 Bed will be a welcome place tonight. Mondays are tough. I am SO a sleepin' in girl on the weekends, but then Sunday night insomnia hits, which leads to a tired Monday. Still, would I trade it for my languid Saturday mornings? Not on your life! Early night tonight;)

10 Came home to 88 degrees and Tim saying "Let's go jump off the boat!" I don't care how much a boat is just a hole into which you throw money. Tonight, our little floating bathtub, and rickety dock were worth each and every penny! In September, the bay is pure heaven!

11 A most uncomfortably hot day of teaching, a cool, calm and collected night at home. Again, it was all because of the boat. Came home, packed snacks, threw on our suits, and got ourselves out there and into the 73 degree bay! Water creates that complete change in attitude for me. So Pisces. So wonderful to be a fish!

12 Another night of play, and I know we will pay this weekend, catching up on sleep, and work, and laundry, but taking in Jane Monheit this evening was well well well worth it. Amazing does not begin to describe her voice. An intimate setting, a small venue, just a voice and a piano. I was in awe.

13 I am in my OCMD Big Assawoman Bay sweatshirt and PJ pants. It is 6:45 pm. I could easily go to bed right now, and sleep right through the night I am quite certain. I won't. I'll stay up, putter, listen to some music, flip through some magazines, file my nails to keep from biting them. But you know what feels great? To know, that after a long hard week, of both work and play, sleep is fully justified, and well deserved to boot. Going back to work sure does make you appreciate time off again. Good "almost" Night.

14 So.Good.At.Wasting.Time. But it is totally OK today. I am still getting stuff done. Bills.Laundry.Cleaning.Organizing. Heck, Tim is even painting the stairwell. I just feel sluggish, in a good way. It is a little grey, and a little cool, and I am a little effective. And that's just fine.

15 Fully understanding that if you play you have to pay, I am cleaning the house today, doing major catchup from a busy week. But I have to tell ya, I hate to clean. Hate it. I am a good homemaker, not so much a housekeeper. If I had disposable income the first thing I would do is hire someone to clean my house. Maybe. Someday. But I doubt it. So back to scrubbing I go.

Last Bits

Amen to squeezing out the last bits; of soap, toothpaste, condiments, or in our case this year, summer.

Being a two teacher family we have the rare luxury of a a whole family with a full summer off each year, and each year we revel in it, typically having several big events spread throughout. This year, though, life had other plans, and I almost allowed it to get me. But, it seems, I am good with the last bits. Have leftover food you need used up, I am your girl, at the ready spatula in hand. Have an old wardrobe staple the you just can't part with, I'll jazz it up with a new scarf or some fun earrings. Probably much of this is because necessity is the mother of invention, and lets face it, what teachers have in time, we do not have in dollars, but I'll take that time any day!

If we're being honest, we're pretty good with time around these parts too. We have packed more into our August than I would have expected to be able to, hence the NEED to write today before we jet off to camp, and return to our September. As I look back at the August calendar not more than two days are blank, and it was great! There were friends, and family events, and of course summer travel! In two weeks time we took in Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New York City. Even for a girl who adores travel, that is a lot, and I can truly say that fall, and staying put for a bit, are the focus right now. Usually at the end of summer I am still wanting for more, but this year, I am just happy to squeeze out the last bits.

So for lunch today I wilt on the porch, enjoying a wrap and a beer. The wrap is made with some turkey and cheese that needed to be used up. It is topped off with our homemade salsa from last night, crafted with the last bits of our "garden" offerings. The leftover salsa was augmented too, with the last bits of leftover corn, cut off the cob.

Yep, just a summery lunch on the porch, but again it seems, I am reminded that all I have is all I need, and to reimagine what is already in front of me is the best exercise in creativity that I could ask for.

Deep Summer

Here it is vacation, and I am having the hardest time today just trying to SLOW DOWN and do NOTHING.

We have been moving through summer, so far, at such a breakneck speed. And it seems like today, on one of our few days where we are "just home," I keep finding myself jumping up, thinking I ought to do something. I am looking around for Devin, even though I know he is off at the Renaissance Faire with his buddy. I am jumpy, pit of the stomach worried that there is something I am forgetting and there just is not. Probably a lot of this stress is the after effect of a full work week last week. Whatever is causing it, I need to get a grip. I need to say a mantra. I need to remind myself that we're all caught up.

All is done, all is well.

We've arrived at August. The dog days of summer as some might say. For us it is our anniversary month. Our time.

Deep summer. Yes. I prefer to think about it that way.

Around this time people start moving towards back to school, but around this time I usually feel like we are just hitting our summer stride. This year in particular. We've had a lot go on so far, but there is still much ahead. As we head into our family trip to Rhode Island and Connecticut next week, I want an agenda but I want it fluid. I want a list of places to go and things to do, but I want to progress through it organically, doing what strikes us along the way, perhaps not checking everything off and leaving ourselves wanting more in the form of a return trip at another time. I want to see the sights, feel the vibe, taste the ocean, in its natural form, and processed on a lobster roll.

I want to book our necessarily postponed anniversary trip, but only the hotel, again allowing us to explore the possibilities of our destination once we get there.

I want to savor the journey.
I want to drink in some summer sunshine.

It is certain that Fall will come in its flurry of busyness, but for now, I want to slow it down.

Welcome, my dear friend.
Welcome, deep summer.

Beautiful Day

So I just got back from some grief shopping and realize that I now have a couple of shirts I will always associate with my grandfather's death. Just some shirts.

Things.

But things are weird that way aren't they? Inconsequential, not even connected at all, but things I harken to guess I will always connect, nonetheless.

Today was weird. Mom called around nine to let me know grandpa was gone. And it wasn't unexpected. He was 89, and had been ill. Still, it took a while to sink in. We had some other plans for the week to come, which had to be changed, and we needed some groceries as well, so I headed out. I was needing a little pick me up, so I figured I'd do some preshopping before the groceries. I got the afore mentioned shirts, at Maurice's of all places, and then headed to TJMaxx to further the buzz. That is where the grief hit, though.

I had forgone the cart, but had several items in my hand. It was just some clearance stuff that I wanted to try on. As I roamed the store somewhat aimlessly, I started to key in to the song playing over the loud speakers...U2..."Beautiful Day." Quite frankly, stores ought to think about what they are pumping into consumers ears..."What you don't have you don't need it now...don't need it now...don't need it now..." Needless to say, I put those items down, right where I was, and headed towards the front of the store. A rainy day had turned to some sketchy sun, and "It's a beautiful day...don't let it get away..." played me through the automatic doors.

I carried on to the grocery store, where it seemed EVERY little old man in Oswego was shopping, or being shopped around by his loved ones. I smiled my way through my glossy eyes, bought goodness knows what, and made my way home.

Things.

It is an odd summer...it has been an odd 6 months. While we are in the midst of celebrating some big highs right now, they have been juxtaposed by some signifigant lows. Still, 20 years ago, this summer, I married my partner in life. 16 years ago, we bought the home we live in now. That summer I did not have a dining room table. I had a particle board table, with screw on aluminum legs. They were a little bit stripped, having been my parents' early marriage kitchen table...or as the case may be, MY former kitchen table.

That summer, having moved to a smaller apartment attached to my aunt and uncle's home, my grandpa brought me my grandma's dining room table and chairs. They were something I needed then, desperately. I have toyed, over the last 15 or so years, whether to refinish and re-glue, or replace, and just earlier this summer had finally made the call. Mom and Dad had even said that if I would like it, they would like to give us the refinishing of that table as a gift for our 20th anniversary. Strangely enough, Grandpa's passing makes it even more appropriate. I will have the table and chairs refinished, and re-glued, to remember grandma by, and now him by, and in some way, my parents by.

So I guess U2 had it right.
What I don't have, I don't need now.
I need nothing new.
I have a beautiful dining room set that, when given a little tender loving care, will mark a number of moments in our FAMILY life.
The life that, no matter what is thrown at it, is so very full of everything we need.

Truly, every day IS a Beautiful Day.

Baby You're a Firework...

Another Fourth of July has come and gone, and another party goes down in the annals of history. Today was a hot July day, with no rain so far. We have been sleeping in, napping, snacking, and slowly cleaning up from a fun time with friends last night, well into the night. I also took some time to upload the pictures from the party on to the computer, which led, naturally, to that dangerous time suck of looking back. We recently got a new iMac, so the big beautiful screen has beckoned a lot this summer, and I have enjoyed taking vivid trips down memory lane, while realizing that my older eyes get a little bit tired of screen light, sometimes. And my older heart misses flipping through photos, in a book, or in a box, while curled up on the couch.

Mark my words that this summer we will rectify some of that.

On further examination, I realized we have been having a party, of some sort, on the night of the Fair Haven fireworks for several years, and I believe next year will be the somewhat, but not quite official, 10th year. Things have changed over the years, things have stayed the same. Along the lines of similarities, I can certainly say that I have panicked annually about whether I remembered to invite people, being that invites need to happen at the end of the school year and that time of year, no matter the year, is a certain level of crazy. Then I have worried about myriad "things;" whether the house was ready, whether the lawn was ready, how the weather would be, how the bugs would be, what food we should have, what drinks we should have, whether we had shirts that had the correct year for photographic integrity, etc. Still, somehow, low and behold, each and every year, regardless of what is running on my worry reel, everything works out just fine. And once the evening is in full swing, I find myself with the same overwhelming feeling of joy, surrounded by love, and feeling like summer has truly begun.

And I find that, even though I rolled my eyes at my daughter sporting her 2012 shirt in 2013, her crafty self had fixed the problem already, with some paper, marker, and tape. Again with the theme that tape can fix anything. Hmmm, universe, are ya sending me a sign?

So, when it comes down to it, today was truly an R&R day; rest and recovery. We even squeezed in dinner on the "bathtub of a boat," and a little swim in the bay. While we were out there, I floated off by myself for a bit, and at that time, in the quiet, calm, post holiday Sunday night water, said my "prayers" for the evening. Don't worry, I haven't gone all "Goddy," on ya, but I have been reading and re-reading a lot of Anne Lamott lately. I feel like, at 42, I have kind of adopted her "Help,Thanks,Wow" mantra as my grown up "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret." I have been practicing gratitude nightly by thinking back on the day; what I need help with, what I am thankful for, and what made me say, "Wow!" Last night in bed, at 2:30 am actually, it was easy, and today, floating in that bay, it was equally crystal clear.

Help me let go of needless worry.
Thank You for my simple, beautiful life.
And no matter how old I get, fireworks will always make me say WOW!

End of June, SURPRISE!

HOLY MOLY! It has come to the point where I HAVE to write. Tonight. It is the last day in June, and it must be done. Thing is, the last night in June really snuck up on me. I mean, it was just a week ago that we were a mere day out of school, but tonight, right now, school feels a million miles away. We've even had our first fun of summer, with Devin spending time at Camp Geena and Pa, Gwynn going to an amazing music camp at Ithaca College, and Tim and myself having a rather nice "Staycation" to begin the Summer of our 20th Anniversary. It feels like we've already had a summer, yet summer has only just begun. And those that know me well would also know that the Carpenters song is now playing in my head..."We've only just begun...to live..." Ain't it the truth! Summer...the time that we just. plain. live. So, no guilt. No timelines. No deadlines. Writing wise, for this month at least, this is it. This is all ya get. All I am going to do now is sit back, relax, watch a movie with my family, have some popcorn, and perhaps a beer. I'm gonna stay up too late, and finish yet another book. Maybe I'll even shop online. I'll probably fool around on Facebook, or maybe I will just fool around. Point is that it doesn't really matter one way or another, it is summer, and we have only just begun.

Superglued

They Superglued the sofa. I just laughed out loud again, hearing that. They SUPERGLUED the sofa. And at first I was quite upset, trying to think of how to have it fixed. It's a fairly new sofa after all. There was the threatening that they would be paying for it, the ranting that we apparently can't have anything new, can't keep anything nice. But as I have lived with it for another couple of days, I kind of want to keep it. I kind of like it. It is almost like a family artifact, evidence showing the beginnings of their beginning as a brother/sister team.

How did this happen you might ask? Well, I came home from work on a Thursday thoroughly exhausted after a full day of scoring state tests, and then a full afternoon/evening of meetings for our union contract negotiations. I was in a good mood, as all had gone well, but nonetheless I was tired. Tim had an afterschool doctor's appointment, so he had only been home with the kids for a couple of hours. Yes, there had been a gap of about an hour when the kids were home alone. Dev is 15, Gwynn 12. This is not a problem, it is simply a statement of the situation. After I got home, we all reconnected, then the fun of a typical schoolyear evening began. There were homework arguments to be had, there was dinner to be cleaned up. Lunches needed to be made, showers and next day preperations had to be taken care of. Finally, I sat down with Tim, on the couch, to watch some TV together, and I felt something hard on the cushion. I examined a bit closer to discover a certain tear, another probable hole, and tell tale dog hair.

Devin took the brunt of it at first, since I discovered it after Gwynn was already in bed. He admitted to letting the dog on the sofa, and admitted to the ingenious idea of Superglueing. Still, in all of my ranting, and questioning, he never once mentioned his sister. In fact it wasn't until a couple of days later that she and I were in the living room and I asked her about it. She had full knowledge of what happened, and admitted to being a part of it.

I guess that is what makes me, almost, like the Superglued spot. What makes me choose to switch the center cushion for the one on the end. What makes me flip it over and tuck it in place. They really do love each other, or at least have a bond enough to not throw each other under the bus. Or, perhaps they both just think I am truly as exhaustedly clueless as I truly am, and I really won't notice a surprising number of things. Either way, a friend recently asked what the going rate for a sitter is. I suppose I have a clearer answer, now. I'd say it is somewhere between $5 and $10 dollars an hours, or whatever it costs to reupholster a sofa cushion. You make the choice.

Flip Flops

Wednesday
The month is nearing a close, and to fulfill my promise to myself, to write two times a month, I am cutting it close. Thing is, though, it is another negative one. Grrrrr. And I am not usually that way, but all I want to do on here right now is gripe, and groan, and complain, and lament how ANNOYING life is right now. I suppose if I were to look back at old blogs, and even old journals and diaries of my youth, it should be no surprise that this time of year is stressful for me. Endings, again, are something that, at a visceral level, I see as a bad thing, and a big ending, the end of school,draws near. You know how they say that even good change causes stress in your life? The end of the school year is like that for me. Yeah, I am excited about it, but it is a lot of work, in a short amount of time, and it is all the work of finishing; not my strong suit. It is also an end for both my kids, and there are finals, and there are projects. Finally, I suppose, there is the fact that, right before my eyes, these two children of mine will age, again. It feels like we just had birthday month, and I just got used to them being another chronological year older. The school year ending now makes them another school year older, and in some ways, I just don't like it. Or at least, it will take some getting used to. Maybe I would be better with year round school. ACK! Did I just SAY that? What is WRONG with me?

Thursday
Well, today I have spent the day home, with a sick kid, yet again. And along with a doctor's appointment, I have also been somewhat deep in thought. And have done a lot of reading. "Self-helpy" kind of reading. Not the reading I usually do. Still, interestingly enough, it seems to have helped. And after a low from yesterday, I am finding a way up and out, or maybe more so, through. The only way out, after all, IS through, and no matter what life has in store I will make my way through. Hmmm, guess I ought to break out the self help books more often. Don't tell Tim or he'll use it against me. "Do you have your period?" will become, "Why don't you go read your self help books?" Either will get him no where.

Friday
OK, it is May 31st and I have to do it. I have to complete this blog. It's time to publish. It sorta seems to have some coherence. And in order to maintain my tentative mental balance that I worked so hard to maintain on Thursday, I have to keep my promise to me. But again, not so much the finisher. And you know, let us note again that it is also the end of the year, and I have nothing left. Nothing. So we have flip flopped that is for sure...from despair, to acceptance, and now to flippant rants. But there it is, there ya go, there's a second blog for May. I did it. Are ya happy? I am. I'm finished.

Goodbye, Bill

Life has been kind of up and down these days. Death has been a bit prevalent, and I have to say, I'm just not a fan. I am not good at saying goodbye. Never have been, never will be. There have been other endings recently as well, and other goodbyes, and I think I have mentioned before that I am a starter, not a finisher. This applies to work, and to projects, and to things like unloading the dishwasher which I should be doing right now. Love the beginnings, hate the ends.

The most recent death I have been coming to terms with is that of a high school friend's father. Seems kind of fringe, on the outside, and perhaps something that shouldn't affect me as much as something in my own family, but strangely enough that is not so. Of course there is more to the story. There always is. This friend wasn't just a friend, but a close high school friend. Her father wasn't just her father, but was also my pastor during my high school and college years. This man wasn't just my pastor, but a family friend. And he wasn't just a family friend, but was also the man who married Tim and myself. In a way, he is responsible for the life I lead. His consecration of our love led to the life Tim and I have created together, the life we feel so blessed to live. Yeah, it has been a bit to take in. But still, there is more.

Facebook is a funny thing sometimes. I have been on it since 2008. It started as a page I put up, along with my husband, after his 20th high school reunion. People proposed it as a way to stay in touch, and we set up a page together. I soon kicked him off my page realizing what fun it was to connect with people from my own present and my past. I connected with my high school friend's father/my former pastor, Bill, and formed yet a new bond, Facebook friend.

As my experience grew with Facebook, I found it to be a place to share some of my writing with others. I started to post my blogs to Facebook. Bill had long since moved South, following the retirement parade to places closer to his own children, and of course, grandchildren. I hadn't had a chance to see him in a while, to experience his hearty laugh, or be on the receiving end of one of his powerful hugs. Still, Bill became one of my biggest online fans, always "liking" my posts, often commenting on them. And his words meant the world to me. At times his, "Yep, I've been there," confirmed that I wasn't alone. I might have had a post that ranted a bit about the typical frustrations of life, marriage, children, and through the words of my pastor/friend, I found peace yet again. I know that what I write, in essence, addresses the universality of the human condition, and Bill's comments reinforced that I hit my mark. At times his writerly compliment made me proud. He was a man of words, a man that stood, weekly, in a pulpit, expressing his beliefs and ideas. He was a fellow writer, and he found my writing to be good enough. He took the time to compliment, he took the time to say "Yes, you're a writer."

This past week, his family began the long process of saying goodbye. I will have my opportunity soon, to formally do so. And all around me I keep being reminded of endings. Even driving into the city of Oswego this weekend, seeing the graduation flags flying and the U-Hauls hauling, I am reminded again that goodbyes are just part of life. And yes, I suppose in some ways, endings are new beginnings as well. Still, I don't like them, and I don't think I ever will. But today I will say goodbye here. Goodbye Bill, and Godspeed, and for so many things, Thank You, from the bottom of my heart.

As much as I love them, sometimes, I wish my kids would disappear for a while, a day, or even a few.

This afternoon, one of them is trying my patience in a battle of wills, and one is needing attention. We are attending to both, as we should. Playing our roles as good, attentive, caring parents. And I love it, we love it, wouldn't change it for the world and all. We know how lucky we are, believe me. Still it doesn't change the fact that I would just like them to disappear for a few days, so Tim and I could just be US. We have been WITH them, so intensely, for the last month. We took an epic family vacation. Encountered school stresses, for kids and parents alike, in the form of evaluations and testing. We faced a family funeral and had to take that time to adjust and to say goodbye. Now, I just want some time off, some time just for us.

Driving home from the store, with the clouds beginning to roll in, and with the 4 'o clock reality of Sunday evening looming, the song "Runaway" by Jefferson Airplane fed my angst even more.

"You don't know how much I miss you, I miss you like the sun. I want to put my arms around you, we could run, run, run, runaway."

Well, today saw the return of the summer sun. 78 degrees, I felt it through the roof of my car, as I zipped to the store, trying to make the most of the last thing I wanted to be doing. I was doing what had to be done. Tim was home, managing and mowing. Doing what had to be done. But the heat from the sun on my hair reminded me of how much I missed it. It reminded me of how our couple life feels right now. And I'm not talking about date night. We just had one on Friday. We have fun ones planned for the next two weekends, with other couples too. I mean us time, time alone, time to just BE. We get a lot more of it than some do, I know. But perhaps it is because of that that periodically we crave it more than most as well? It's not that anything is all that bad, or that anything is really wrong. We're just fried...tired. I know that a little time of JUST us will fix just about anything, and I know that a little time of JUST us would revive us both, allowing us to be, happily, the hands on parents that we both are. The parents that we both want to be. The people we both are.


Today, I just kinda miss us, and I wish we could just run, run, run.
Runaway.

Know how the Dixie Chicks sang about wide open spaces? I kind of get that now.

Have been spending the last couple of days recovering from our latest family travel adventure, 6 days trekking to and around Arizona. I keep wondering why I am still in a fog, but then I remember that even the one hour time change of "spring ahead" will bug me for a week, and we jumped three full hours on Thursday. Not to mention we flew in to Buffalo at 12:30am EST and then drove 3 hours to Lansing to spend the night. I was telling my seat mate on the airplane about our trip, and about our evening ahead, and mind you he was a hearty Buffalonian, rust belt raised, but he said even he would be getting a hotel room! Our family travels hard, and pushes through. I may be foggy now, but boy did we make the most of all the time we had.

With the amount we took in, in the time we were there; the things we saw, the miles we covered, I suppose I should give myself some leeway. And if you think about it, fog is good when it brings shade to the resurrection of real life, allowing a little more time to process a whole new world. Who knew that whole new world existed right within the borders of our own country? Not me, apparently, but I feel like I have been let in on a secret. Travel is that way.

Now I know I have piqued your interest. Do you want in on a few of the secrets I learned? Want some wide open spaces wisdom?

Saguaro cactus really have their own personalities that are pretty funny sometimes.
Canyons are really deep and steep, all of 'em, Grand and not so grand.
Petrified wood really is rock, and wood, at the same time.
You really can get your kicks on "Route 66," in a Wigwam even.
Meteors really make big big BIG holes sometimes.
Deserts are really vast, and open and dry, and still, for thousands of years, despite that, people have been living in them.
Red rocks are really all kinds of amazing shades of red.

I know, it all sounds stupid, kind of redundant even, but until you actually see it and feel it, I don't think it can be comprehended. Tim and I both were repeatedly awestruck, which, again, when you are in your forties is a really cool experience. To be blown away. To see like you have never seen before. We kept commenting to each other that we have seen photos of all of the things that we saw on our trip for our whole lives, but seeing them in person was like seeing them again, but for the first time. I would recommend it to anyone. Go west, young or old, man or woman, and have your eyes opened. There really is a whole world out there, just waiting to be explored.

Oh, and a final thought, while prickly, the prickly pear cactus really does make a DAMN good margarita!

Why are Reese's peanut butter eggs SO much better than Reese's peanut butter ANYTHING ELSE?

And speaking of that, why does Easter candy time have to come so close to spring break, a time where we just might be headed someplace warm, and we just might have to face our bodies, in all their winter padded pale, in a bathing suit? Easter candy, you mock us with your..."Hey, check me out! I'm yummy! I have practically 50% more peanut butter than the average Reese's product. It makes me protein rich. A health food practically. I know, summer is right around the corner, but don't you want a final hurrah? And who are we kidding, really, you will keep on eating right into summer too, and BBQ, and ice cream, and daily afternoon beverages...dig in sister!"

I suppose it is better than back in days of young children. The bunnies were the worst. Especially the solid ones. The kids didn't really even want them, except perhaps, IF they could work their teeth through them, the ears. And then the rest would be there, stuck to the Easter grass, taunting us, calling to us, until we caved, and ate them. Or maybe we got creative, and melted them down. Made ourselves a little individual afternoon fondue? And then we wondered why we didn't fit into our shorts.

I guess it is what it is. And my writing today is simply to admit to the shame. Or perhaps you could say it is to admit defeat. I caved. There was one PB egg up in the cupboard. I was trying to avoid it by putting it there, out of sight and out of mind. And it was working until I saw it while putting dishes away. Then I ate it. And truth be told, if there had been another up there, I'd probably have eaten that one too.

That'll teach me to do the stupid dishes.

Happy Freaking Easter.

Me and Laura just a FEW years later...

So, I started reading These Happy Golden Years a few weeks ago. I know it is a complete infraction of the "Laura Ingalls Wilder Fan Club" not to have read it already, and obviously I lied in third grade when I said I had, in fact, read all the books. Nonetheless, I have now read it and that is that.

As a young girl, as much as I loved the thought of reading all the Laura books, some just did not appeal to my 9 year old self. Farmer Boy, obviously,as a boy hating young girl, was one. That is old news, and has been admitted before. But the further exposure at hand involves These Happy Golden Years, Laura's account of early adult life. It begins with her early teaching days, and also covers her courtship with Almonzo. As I read, though, I fully understood why I have waited. What would this book have meant to me then? And wow, it is amazing what it means to me now. Three distinct things really stuck out for me, Laura's relationship with her Pa, her thoughts on teaching, and, of course, Almonzo.

Now "the Pa thing" is a constant throughout the books. Laura loves her Ma, but her Pa, well, there is just a special bond between a girl and her Dad sometimes. I get that entirely. I have it with my dad, and I see it in Gwynn's relationship with Tim. Your "Pa" is your first love in a lot of ways, and a sounding board that is just different from your "Ma." "Ma's" tend to hug you and comfort you, "Pa's" tend to tell it a little more like it is. And, I truly believe that "Pa's" are one of the greatest influences on a girl's self confidence. I loved the quotes throughout the whole series, but particularly on page three,in the chapter Laura Leaves Home. She's nervous to set out and be a teacher, but Pa settles her with kind words of confidence...

"You've never failed yet at anything you've tried to do, have you?"

"Success gets to be a habit, like anything else a fellow (ha!) keeps on doing."

or my favorite...

"You have confidence in yourself, that's the only way to make other folks have confidence in you, but one thing you must guard against. You are so quick, flutterbudget. You are apt to act or speak first, and think afterwards. Now you must do your thinking first and speak afterwards. If you will remember to do that you will not have any trouble."

The next chapter sees her coming to terms with growing up, being the teacher, and also chronicles her struggles living as a border in the home of a clinically depressed homesteading woman. She keeps busy, working hard as best she can, but at one point, feeling overwhelmed, she stops on her walk from the school and says, out loud, to herself, "Oh Pa. I can't" I love that in that moment of weakness she calls out, and it is not to God, but to her Pa. I can think of so many times in my life I did the same. My mom was a teacher, but usually, to talk about work stuff, I go to my Dad. In fact just this year, struggling with so much that is plaguing my profession, it is my Dad who has helped me a great deal in the quest to keep on doing what I know I do best. I have had my moments this year much like Laura, saying "Oh Pa. I can't," but it is truly WITH the support of a wonderful Dad, and Mom, family and friends, that I have been able to keep calm and carry on, no matter what has been thrown my way.

And speaking of that tough school year at what feels, sometimes, like an educational testing factory, I was SO identifying with Laura at the beginning of the book where, concerning teaching, she was just figuring out how to get by. She was getting through each day, crossing off days on the calendar, making marks in her planbook. She was constantly reminding herself that she was doing it for her family, for Mary, so Mary could stay in school. Then, later in the book, she found success, she wowed during the the somewhat clueless and unannounced visit from her Superintendent which was just funny, and she gets a good job at The Perry School. As Laura described it, it was all fresh and new and full of all that a good classroom should have, all that a good classroom should be. I could so clearly picture it, and also so clearly knew while I read that part with great love and understanding, that I am right where I ought to be, doing just what I ought to do...teaching...growing children...igniting knowledge. Whatever the state thinks education should become, I know in my heart that to me, it is just the beauty and simplicity of something much like The Perry School.

And finally, Almonzo. Oh Almonzo. To have a boy who loves you, who is willing to drive through the cold and the snow on weekends for you, who lets you take the reigns sometimes, who trusts you and lets you be who you are, who gives you a garnet ring that sparkles. Well, let's just say that the parallels between Almonzo and Laura, and Tim and me are pretty darn uncanny. Yep, it's just Laura and me, a few years later. Laura, I've lived a little bit of life now. Why don't you and I get together for a cup of tea sometime because it seems, my friend, that you really have been with me all along.

Sync has been in progress all week here, and I do believe that here, on Sunday afternoon, it is safe to say that it was hugely successful.

Tim and I have had a rough start to 2013, going all the way back to the 2012 holiday season even. Between sickness and life/work/home/money/stress craziness, it just has not been a time full of our typical blend of life zen. Rather, it has been a hard to swallow, occasionally bitter pill, literally. And as we've been grasping at happiness, it has surely been an uphill struggle. We've been having to work, HARD just to keep our heads above water, and in my silly head, I was starting to wonder if we had just taken some sort of a turn? If by some chance we'd played all of our lucky cards and life was just gonna be tough, and get tougher, from here on out? I began to equate it with being certainly IN to our 40's, parents getting a little older, kids as well. Was it perhaps time for us not to live the charmed life we've become accustomed to?

I know, sad. I know, overreactive. But you clicked and chose to read this rambling crap I write. I make no apologies.

Well, February break, a long time favorite of mine, approached, but I literally chose to have no real expectations. That, all the quote quothers say, is a good way to be. If you have no expectations you can't be disappointed. But you know, I have a hard time approaching things that way. I generally expect good in my life. And, I AM a planner. Even more troublingly, I have a DEEP SEATED inner Clark Griswold, and I do tend to build expectations into most situations. And in my life, really, overall, in all 40+ years, I have not been terribly disappointed. Still, with our luck as it has been of late, I did enter this break with a very low key vibe. I had a (small) list of things I hoped might happen, but had hardly reviewed it, had not even run it by Tim, or any of our family members, who actually factored into several things on the list. Yes, I hoped to be able to do some stuff over break, but if none of it happened, I wouldn't have been too let down.

Then Friday 2/15 hit...
and Devin's bowling team won sectionals! It was like a sea change of good fortune...good STUFF just stared to happen, and kept on happening, every day of break!

Some was small...like Saturday, we actually cleaned the whole house, together, happily. Then Sunday we celebrated Norah turning 4. Monday through Wednesday Tim and I GOT AWAY and did numerous and sundry things including fun, frolic, and home repair...and we smiled throughout. Wednesday night it was back to Lansing and out for a family dinner at Maxie's Supper Club, bathing my taste buds in the cuisine of my inner Southern girl. Thursday Mom and I shopped and I got GREAT bargains, for myself, and for the kids' upcoming birthdays.

Then, clarity to the week's purpose just about hit me in the face on Thursday night. A fairly competitive game of "Scattergories" at mom and dad's confirmed that we were undoubtedly beginning, again, to Sync. Not to mention, a great moment in "Scattergories" history occurred. Better than Barry's? Maybe not. But in the trajectory of a 20+ year relationship it surely was one for the record books. Faced with the letter M, and with the category, "Something found at the beach," Tim and I both wrote, mind you seated ACROSS the room from each other. "Marge, Large and IN CHARGE." No, not simple things like men, moms, mosquitos, mangoes, magazines, or manatees. No. Instead a character. A part of our shared history. A strange and fringe member of our long and charmed story. Good old "Marge," there, to sunscreen her daughter, hand out snacks, referee her part of the beach, but also, apparently, there in OUR collective subconscious, perhaps to remind us that we are JUST FINE. We are fully, forever, and always in Sync.

The beauty of the week continues, even to today. The week wound down, and we traveled back home. More good fortune came our way, this time in the form of FINALLY getting reimbursed some insurance money we were owed from an accident Tim had in JULY. This veritably covered any spending we had done over break, even. A cleaning out/redecorating session in Gwynn's room was successful and involved few tears from my MiniHoarder. Even the Oswego Laker Hockey team obliged us, as they had a very exciting win over Buff State to send them further into the finals. Yep, it was a really, really, REALLY good break. And you know, I think I will go back to being my "Clarky G" self, and go ahead and start to plan and prepare for our next great family adventure, to the Grand Canyon over April break. Still, this week has left me mindful. It has been a tough couple of months, but luck is fluid, and fluids find their way into the cracks. Yes, the cracks are the bad things, but they remain, sometimes, open, waiting to be refilled. Happiness comes and goes, but it is always there. Even the difficult times, turn. Every cloud DOES have its silver lining.

It's OK...good even...to have expectations...because, quite frankly, we all deserve goodness in life.
And LIFE is GOOD.

Sync IS complete.

Vision

I took a photo of Devin's trombone at Solo Fest on Saturday, because I had a vision. I knew we had a certain day ahead, and in my mind I was composing a PicStitch photo. I'd include a long shot of the 'bone, and, naturally, a blurred shot of Gwynn's basketball game. Then, I figured I'd include, alongside, a shot of our lunch at one of our favorite family watering holes, "Parker's Pub," be it Auburn or Newark, two of our "pass through towns." Their food and drink is notable and deserved a space. Yep, even before we got going in our day, I knew how I wanted to document, and that long instrument was just what I needed to fit the visual space. How odd of me to think they way, I know, but I certainly can see it as an exercise in self preservation as well. I am someone who likes a plan, and our family life these days demands far less in terms of long term vision, and far more in the way of skill in making moments out of molehills. In other words, lately, our vision seems to be day by day. Like driving at night, where even if we can only see a bit in front of us at a time, amazingly, it seems we can make the whole trip that way. It is a bit to get used to for a planner like me, but I am finding my way. My vision.

Today, Monday, is snow day two. Friday, ever so happily, we had off, due to snow. Then the PicStitched weekend was great, and busy, and not interrupted by nuisance snow at all. Monday, we woke to a blessed blanket, and it has not stopped all day long. We have accumulated, easily, a foot of snow. If you look out the window, at times, vision is obscured. The trees drip with snow. The bay seems not even to be there. At times I can't see our neighbors homes. But it doesn't matter. We are cozy, and home. There is a candle burning, and music playing, and time to read and write and rest and create and dream and think. I take it in. I am not worrying ahead, or thinking ahead, or planning ahead. I am here. Now. Under a peaceful blanket of snow, and my vision is perfectly clear.

I have to say, that last night was an evening of cooking synergy here.

Tim and I have a wonderful time with food, might be considered foodies by some. We take great pleasure in choosing new and different foods to try, out, as well as in. Still, when it comes to the cooking of food, the task falls mostly to me. It isn't that Tim can't cook, or doesn't like to cook, it's just that I am usually the one that gets the job. Could be a leftover pattern from maternity leave years, when I really took to cooking, resolving myself to enjoy something I was bound to have as a responsibility for the next 20+ years. Could be that jobs such as snow blowing, or yard stuff, generally fall to him, and if, after work, he is outside doing that, I am, logically, inside, getting laundry going and starting dinner. The orchestration is touchy as far as timing, depending on the season, and the night, and which kid needs to be picked up or taken where, when. Due to all of that, it just is what it is.

I am the cook.

Still, last night, cozily stuck at home due to an early dismissal from school and a lake effect event, we had a little bit of time. We had a new recipe. We had all the fixings. We cooked. Together.

It was a quality cooking session too. I typically can be a bit of a Kitchen Nazi, much like my mother. You don't help my mother in the kitchen, you are her kitchen bitch. You do what she tells you. And usually it is all the crappy tasks. Some of my most hated words growing up were "Cheryl, make the salad." I left home being unable to cook much other than salad, and sadly, now, I find myself being the same way. I can do whatever it is I am trying to do faster myself, and if you are "helping" me in the kitchen, I am usually just bossing you around. Tim really kind of hates this, and I don't blame him, I would too. Tim joins me in the kitchen, but it is usually just for company, and to pour the wine. But last night, the kitchen bitchin' took the night off. Tim chopped, I chopped. Tim cooked, I cooked. There was wine poured by both, and we ended up with a delicious treat, on a cold and blowy night, that warmed the body and soul.

So I deem this recipe, modified from Redbook...

"Bitch Free Pad Thai"

Lots of ingredients, yep, lots of chopping, yep, but it really is a yummy result.

Prep Time (30 minutes, or 20 if you find a nice boy to do most of the chopping)
Cook Time (10 minutes, and you better have all your stuff prepped ahead...just sayin')

Ingredients
(modified to include things I can easily find at good 'ol Price Chopper in Oswego)

3/4 package of Linguini noodles, cooked al dente

Sauce Items
3 Tbsp Fish Sauce
3 Tbsp Fresh squeezed lime juice
1 Tbsp Worcestershire Sauce
2 Tbsp packed brown sugar

Cooking oil...whatever kind you use regularly is fine...peanut oil if you have it

3 Large Eggs beaten

1 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts...halved lengthwise, thinly sliced crosswise...the way you cut really does matter

2 heaping Tbsp chopped garlic...I use the jarred kind...so sue me
1/2 cup chopped scallions
1 1/2 cups fresh bean sprouts

"twice around the wok" of Sriracha sauce...more if you like it hotter, but I wouldn't do any less. If you have Frank's Red Hot that would be fine too, but I really like the Sriracha. Asian food section right at the Chopper.

1/4 cup unsalted roasted peanuts, finely chopped

Garnishes
Plenty of chopped fresh cilantro...oh how I love you cilantro!
More chopped scallions
More peanuts
Lime wedges

Cook the noodles...set aside

Stir together sauce items in a small bowl...set aside

Heat a "once around the wok" amount of oil and quickly cook eggs...set aside

Add a "twice around the wok" amount of oil and cook chicken, a bit at a time, moving done pieces up the side of the wok, until just cooked through

Add garlic, then scallions, then Sriracha sauce...stir fry with chicken for a couple of minutes.

Add noodles, toss well, and stir fry for a minute or two.

Add sauce mixture, bean sprouts, crushed peanuts and eggs, mix well to coat everything.

Serve...heap on the garnishes and squeeze lime wedges 'cause it is fun...add more hot sauce...I dare you.

A semi-sweet riesling, traminette, or gewurztraminer, would be the perfect paring.

AWWW...just like Tim and me in the kitchen!
(at least last night)

Majorly low batteries here. It has been a long, long month, and I am only hoping we are near the turnaround. Tim and I have been trading sicknesses back and forth since Christmas. I suppose this bodes well for our marriage, as we apparently haven't learned to stay away from each other while germified, but as far as over all life satisfaction, things are at a low.

Low battery.

I tried all my tricks today too...music in the car, a little fun shopping, still couldn't recharge the battery. So much so that even when good friend called me while shopping for groceries, to propose a fun outing tonight, I had to say no. I felt my energy waning in the frozen foods and knew it just was not in the cards. As I almost "forgot" to pay for my groceries, and then stopped for a green light on my way home I knew I had made the right call. In fact, my family is even out right now, without me, at one of my favorite things, an Oswego State Hockey game, but I just don't have it in me, yet.

Maybe a night in, alone, with some tea and a movie will help. If not, I'm at a loss.

Crossing my fingers, snuggling beneath my blanket, and hoping that will aide the recharge.