I'm back!

So much has happened since I last was able to post. I should begin by saying thank you for your patience and the outpouring of offers of violence. It was endearing, really. I believe the ghosts of relationships past have left the building, so the scary IP thing is gone. YEA!

Quick rundown of the past few days -

Thank you to Solo, Dawg, Lesbo and Jen for posting REAL pictures! I love seeing your beautiful faces instead of your wrist or foot or eerie darkened profile.

Don't forget to keep Solo, Shane and Kimber on your list of Good Vibe recipients.

Does anyone else miss Jude like a child misses their blanket?

I have a secret. I am keeping a massive secret from Dawn. Her birthday is Sunday. I wish I could tell you about it and get your help and advice, but alas, she loves me and supports me and reads my posts over and over again and marvels in my cleverness and good will and capacity for . . . I digress. I can't wait to tell you all about it next week!

Funny story to keep you shaking your head about my crazy house -
This morning I was checking my email while Dawn wrangled breakfast. I heard Faith ask for yogurt and Dawn open the fridge. Then I zoned out for a second. Then I heard Dawn explaining about expiration dates. Zone. Then I heard Dawn asking Faith to choose something else for breakfast. I assumed she was being picky about flavors. A while later Dawn said to me, "All that yogurt you bought was bad." I said, "What makes you say that?" She said, "It was all curdled and gross." I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I stared at the Brand New, perfectly good, Whipped yogurt in the trash can.

Busted

Forgive me, Sweet Friends. I have to take care of something today.

It has come to my attention that there are some people here, reading me, that are not here for noble or honorable purposes. And though this is a public site, they are well aware that they are unwelcome. They are spies, peeping toms.

Trespassers, I ask, respectfully, that you not return. Surely, by now you have read every word and either found what you wanted or can rest assured that since it's not here now, it probably never will be.

Please stay out of my business, as I stay out of yours.

My Hero, Laura

Will everyone please go and read our friend Laura's comment on my post, "Miss-Informed California"? She is hilarious and brilliant and pretty fly for a straight girl.

Del Mar: The Poor Man's Corona

My Great Love is drunk and blogging. I love her. If there's anything coherent in her post, I'll link it tomorrow.

She sent me to the store for more beer while humming a certain Jimmy Buffet diddy. Can anyone guess which one?:)

Miss-Informed California

Let me just go on and get this out of my system, "What in the fuck is she talking about?"

OK, I'm ready to be rational now. I know about "Opposite Marriage." I was in one for 5 years. Miss California may be surprised to hear that my "Same Marriage" is far more supportive, healthy, fulfilling, enriching, joyful and "right" than my "Opposite Marriage" was and ever had the chance to be. I hope that she, in her Sameness finds joy and that she shuts her stupid collogen pie hole about mine.

No Shit!

I was just trying to figure out an excuse to not take Faith to school. (Storm is sick and William and Ray don't go on Tuesdays. It takes just short of an Act of Congress to get all 4 kids in the van; and I just wasn't feeling up to it.) I was running through my mental list of friends who would be willing to pick her up on their way to school when Faith ran past gagging. She managed to choke out, "The kitten pooped on me." She did throw up a little, out of disgust, but that's good enough for me.

By the way, the kitten is a she, not a he as we originally thought. And her name is Mao. Ray stutter-stepped behind her saying, "Mao. Mao. Mao. Mao." for 3 weeks or so and we have given in. Mao it is. Dawn and I enjoy referring to her as "The Chairman." I told you Nerdy Girls Make Me Hot.

Tornado-ish

This is my den. Today, unfortunately, it looks very much like my living room, playroom, bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. I'm swamped. After the washing machine went out and created a backlog of laundry and then Dawn and I both got sick and then Dawn got called into work all week and then Spring Break and then our biggest festival of the year (made bookoos, by the way!), the house is beyond repair. The problem is that even if I worked on it continuously it still wouldn't get clean because the 4 kids leave such destruction in their wakes. While I am repairing they are destroying. Adrienne Rich wrote something like, "The greatest frustration of Motherhood is doing jobs that are constantly undone." How true.

I'm seriously considering using some of my festival profits to hire a Merry Maid to help me climb out of the wreckage. Is that terrible?

Tap

We're trying to talk William into joining Faith in a Tap/Jazz/Tumble/"Creative Movement" class this summer. He's not convinced. We YouTubed Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly and the like. He thought all of that was hilarious, but was not inspired or enthusiastic about the class. Then we happened upon this little gem. We have watched it no less than 54 times. Faith, William and Ray laugh out loud every time. Ray does his little tap routine and Faith tries to shake William into submission. So far, he is not having any of it.

I hope you get a kick out of this.

Black Death

I'm sick. Really sick. It feels like my spine is brittle and looks like my insides are mass exodusing my body. I'll let you figure that lovely image out.

The weird thing is that I'm so hungry. Last night Dawn brought me some crackers and a banana. I scarfed that down and demanded Lo Mein. She rolled her beautiful green peepers and brought me the leftovers. I ate that and wanted to die.

The timing is horrible. We have our biggest festival of the year this weekend and we need to be banging some new stuff out. Dawn got called in to work all week and now I'm laid up. So no progress is being made on junk chiming or laundry or dishes.

Oh, and there's always the 4 monkeys to take care of. I gotta go take a nap.

Boobs

Last night Faith was running around with two balloons. She crashed into me and held them to my chest. I grabbed them, did a little shimmy and said, "Monster Boobs!" She giggled and said, "Like Ursula."

4 Years

4 years ago today, I spoke to Dawn for the first time. I knew who she was prior to April 13, 2005, but I had never talked to her. I saw her for the first time at a Wives Club Christmas Party at Fort Rucker in Alabama. I was less than a month from delivering my first baby. I was hot and irritable and fat. Had all of that not been enough to make me mad as hell, I was also missing my favorite show to be there. (My husband had "urged" me to attend.) I don't remember anyone else from the party.

A few months later, she called and left a message on my machine, asking me to come to someone's Mary Kay debut party. I went only because she asked me, and as it turned out, she didn't even attend. (Dawn always adds here in the story that I left there the newest Mary Kay rep in Lower Alabama. That's true. Laugh and I'll kick you in the shin.)

A few weeks after that, on April 13, I found myself at someone's baby shower. Again, I DID NOT want to be there. Again, I had been "urged." I had a 4 month old little boy, no friends and a serious case of low self-esteem. I had put on my cutest outfit and had William in his most unstained romper. I arrived late, of course. The only seat left was on the sofa, next to Dawn. Relief swept over me. She was a somewhat familiar face and voice and totally disarming. Her little girl Faith was 18 months old and leaning on her knees with a chicken tender in each hand. I was mush for that baby girl immediately. As the shower droned on, Dawn and I started exchanging polite conversation, mostly about the babies, as I recall. They were exactly the same size. Faith could walk and talk and eat chicken, and William was just a cuddly, drooly, sleepy chunk-a-baby. But they were the same height and weight.

When the shindig was over, Dawn and another girl left together. As I was changing William's nasty pants, I recognized that I was strangely jealous and I had to shake it off and chalk it up to my horrible postpartum depression. Dawn came back in. I was hoping that she was coming back to talk to me, to set up a play-date or something. (It occurs to me that I haven't told you what she had on. Remember that I and everyone else had on a pant suit or a dress. Dawn had on these crazy baggy capris that I later found out were Maternity Pants. She weighed about 130 lbs. She also had on a tattered and faded Philadelphia Fire Department sweatshirt. At the time I thought it was totally weird, if not inappropriate. Now I think it is ADORABLE!) She stood in the doorway between the den and the living room and announced, loudly that she was having a cook-out at her house on Saturday and that everyone was invited.

I was giddy.

Easter

We started with 36 real eggs, 29 plastic ones and now we're only missing 3. I call that a great success. We've watched all the new shows, opened all the new toys, and eaten too much candy. The Lord is Risen!

Jaws

I don't like to post pictures of my kids, because who knows which of you is a big Creepy Creeperson who might take a shine to one of them. I'm making an exception today because they're all incognito in this particular picture. The HUGE Easter box from my mom arrived today. These goggles were the biggest hit!

What about Ray with his paci? How hilarious is this?!

Organic

I’ve been MIA. I went missing in Milton, FL. I used MIA just now not really thinking ahead, but strangely enough I found myself in the company of Mr. Henry, a Veteran of the Battle of the Bulge. It now seems an inappropriate reference. Let me begin again.

Hi! Miss me? Sorry I’ve been away so long. Dawn and I were busy bees getting ready for our first festival of the year. We make wind chimes, sun catchers, garden stones, and other “Garden Oddities” to show at the local festivals. (You can check them out by clicking on the link over there that says, “Another Semi-Legitimate Gig.”)

My next tent neighbors at the Emerald Coast Flower and Garden Show were Mr. and Mrs. Henry Suddeth. He is 89 and she doesn’t seem far behind. They were showing and selling (a lot!) Bag o’ Gold which I soon became quite familiar with. Mr. Henry didn’t let a soul walk by without chanting, “Got somethin’ goooooood for your plants. Organic.” If his intended target happened to keep walking he added, “Good for your house plants, garden, or flowers. Money back guarantee!” Nobody could resist him. He was so damn cute, not to mention that if you are one to attend a Flower and Garden Show, then you probably are in the market for some plant food anyway.

(I’m at the Barnes and Noble right now. Dawn released me for some much needed decompression. I’m in the Starbucks Café Area. Just a few tables away is a mother and her boy child, about 4 years old. She is all done up - perfectly coifed and painted, silk tank top, designer jeans, heels. I instantly hate her. Just when I thought I was going to be able to deflect her negative energy, she pulled out water colors. I’m not shitting you. This is happening right now. She has set up 4 little cups of water for this kid and is reminding him every 30 seconds or so not to spill because “we’ll get in trouble.” Oh, my God! Now she’s singing happy birthday to someone on her cell phone, complete with the “and many more!” I am never going to be bored in this life.)

By the end of Friday afternoon, he had made $350. I had made $25 off of a person he had flagged down. I was OK. My pride was firmly intact.

On Saturday morning, though I got a little testy. He had moved his set-up right on top of me. And he started talking to people who were in my tent looking at my stuff. And he was handing out little cards about God. I was feeling the sizzle.

By 10:30 I had broken even, so I sat back and enjoyed the weather and the repetitive conversation about recycled goods and how creative and clever I am. (I’m not even lying this time.) Saturday turned into a boom day. I was selling stuff left and right. (One of my creations that our own Jude named “Kiddo” even sold to a big dyke, complete with jean shorts and a belt!) The Suddeths, of course, turned in record sales.

After staying up late to make new things to fill the tent back up, I was disappointed to see some menacing clouds on Sunday morning. The church crowd rolled in just as the first sprinkles started to fall. I was doing some minor rearranging when I heard Mr. Henry say to his wife, “We’re almost sold out. Only 18 lbs. left.” I nearly panicked. I had to get some of this stuff. I would just be damned if I was going to sit there all weekend and listen to his mantra and watch him eat the stuff for effect and not go home with some of it. I deserve bigger blossoms! I need a triple producer tomato plant! I live for No Mix No Mess!

Mrs. Suddeth was nice enough to trade me some of their goodness for one of my hanging vases made from an old glass baby bottle “to celebrate my new great-grandson!” she said.

I found out from the festival director that that was the Suddeths last festival. They are selling their secret formula. I’m quite sure that this stuff works, but it won’t be nearly as memorable coming from anyone else. Will the new guy bark at every passerby? Will he use old coffee cans for packaging? Will he give free samples to the “Doubting Thomases?” Will he cart around the countless boards full of blue ribbons? Will he proudly display their posters of faded Before and After pictures?

Sadly, I suspect that all of you will soon be able to buy Bag o’ Gold at your local Wal-Mart or Lowe’s. If you happen upon some, please think of Mr. Suddeth who has something gooooood for your plants. Organic.

Baby's First Ally

And it's a good one. Gabby weighs about 70 lbs or so which means that she outweighs the Baby by 70 lbs or so. If we ever lose track of where the Baby is, we just find Gabby. Sometimes she is waiting patiently with her nose under the bed or the bookshelf or the cedar chest. Sometimes she has her nose stuck in the little box that he sleeps in (see yesterday's picture.)


Gabby spends a good bit of time following him around, licking him. Sometimes the licks pick his back feet up off the ground. Sometimes they nudge him along. His hair is always going the wrong way and he's always sticky.

I love this crazy life!