Mr. Busy

There is a reason that the young have babies.   Babies become toddlers.  Toddlers like to "run", especially at my house--because they can--there are large open spaces.

Grandma's are good for a lot of things--hand knit sweaters, cookies, patience, stories, and letting you open the cupboard  doors as much as you want.   Grandma's are not good for chasing running toddlers--at least not for long.  I am tired!!

Independence!!

It is already July.  Never mind that last January we could not wait for 90 degrees.  I am not ready.  The summer is fleeting--too fast.   Just like the weeds that are growing out of control, so is my "to do" list!! 

Yesterday, a very welcome day off, was wonderful.   I finished a baby gift--for a baby born last November.   Good thing it is not size specific!!!!   I cleaned up a few of my closet shelves, finding my summer tanks.  I put some stuff away.  I enjoyed the distractions as they presented themselves---even though I had a list, it was downstairs, and I was not.....so I could rationalize the ADD-ness of "rolling" through the day!!

Today, I started on the weeds around the air conditioner.   There are not many....but it is always sunny there.  I had good intentions.  Got up early.  Then there was the shawl that I needed to "tink" (unknit)  earlier this week--begging me to be put back in order.  There was breakfast, getting dressed, and next thing I knew, I was in my sewing room, whipping up little projects for Florida baby----until it got complicated, and I remembered my promise to the weeds.

I got out all my "stuff". Put on my "gear"--sun glasses, sun screen, hat, gloves----and headed toward the side of the house where the offending weeds surround the air conditioner.....but first, I should trim these branches, then I need to cut back this ornamental, and I should bag up these weeds from last week that I pulled, but left on the patio---just in case we are hosting some fire works tomorrow that I am not aware of.  And, OH my!!  there are branches from the apple tree nearly touching the ground.  

Now I have to go back to resupply my refuse bags.  I finally arrive at the air conditioner---took about an hour and a half to wander the 100 feet to the location.  I manage to get the offending ornamental grass whacked back so the condenser can get some air (would like to meet the person that thought that this stuff was a good idea for this side of the house!!)  I pull a few weeds--the easy ones.   I grab handfuls of the dead grass from last season that somehow (?) we never got around to burning--either in the fall or the spring.  Now I need another bag. 

It is now noon.  HOT.  And I decide to take a break.   In another hour, I will make myself go back out there---honest!  If I can focus on the weed removal and spread the new bark just around the air conditioner, I can cross something off the list!!!

Of course, while I am sitting here enjoying the air conditioner, I have added a few more items to "the list"-----it is going to be a long summer!!!   Fortunately, it doesn't really matter that I am totally at the mercy of ADD when it comes to my to do list---I have found that the jobs are still waiting for me when I get back around to them!!!

Grace

It has never been my strong suit. I appreciate that my mother tried---several years of tap dancing lessons for body awareness...even a college class in "dance"....but I am a klutz. I am o.k. with that. Acceptance!

Occasionally, it is humorous. Once in awhile, problematic. Tuesday was a problematic day.

I fell out of my office building .  There is no other way to describe it.  As I stepped out the door, my foot landed on a small branch (I think) that was on the sidewalk just below the step.  That rolled, casting me to the side.  My other foot landed in the landscape rocks--and  unstable surface---and I became a projectile--aided by momentum toward my home bound commute and gravity.

WHAM, oppph!  I was suddenly intimately associated with both the landscape rocks and the adjacent cement sidewalk---With my hands slammed against the edge of the walkway, and my chin, lips, and nose in full contact with the cement--I briefly pondered how to "gracefully" get up---while a co-worker frantically asked me if I was getting up-----like it would not have occurred to me to do so!!   She was slightly hobbled by a leg cast as the result of her own interactions with a stool that her foot went through--breaking both the stool and the foot.......so was not actually in any shape to rescue me from my position inspecting the cement.

My first thoughts were "How did I get here?"  Followed quickly by the realization that EVERYTHING hurt, and could possibly be hurt!  It took a few seconds to think through the next move.

First I moved my eyes back a little from the cement, breaking the contact of my chin.   I did not observe gushing blood---a good sign.  Then I considered if I could /should use my hands to push up.   Of course I needed to, but the possibility of doing further damage did occur to me.   Lacking a crane, I saw no other choice and pushed myself up to my knees (ouch, the rocks!), and then to standing.  Collected my bag,  ran my hands over by face--pulling them back, no blood!  Ask my co-worker if I seemed to have all my teeth?  She said she thought so...So, having a car pool to catch,  not to be stranded in the city, I departed, shouting over my shoulder that I would let her know if my jaw was broken.  Adrenalin rush!

Passing her car pool buddy on the route to my pool, I admonished her to "watch out for sticks"---which she thought very odd until she got the rests of the story........

Fortunately, nothing seems to be broken.   I spend the time in urgent care, and have filled out all of the "workplace injury forms"  Lots of bruising, soreness, etc.   I look like a victim of domestic violence---or workplace violence---but it is just the result of Klutziness mixed with bifocals and a stick! 

I will heal in time, but will still be klutzy. 

My employer should do a better job with the random sticks and debris----I need all the help I can get!! 

Fortunately it does not really matter....

I have promissed myself that I will avoid my work/profession as a topic of my blog. After all, look what has happened to Dooce!! (Come to think of it, it seems to have worked out well for her...oh, well...

I have a job. I think it is a good job. Most of the time I like my job. I can buy stuff I want because I have a job. But the best thing about my job is that nothing, absolutely nothing that I do is a matter of life and death. Deadlines can come and go--and might be missed, but no one is harmed beyond repair. I get stuff done---but if I don't , again no one is harmed beyond repair.

So I guess my job is "nice". Of maybe I have just finally been able to put it into perspective. At the end of the day, whatever is left, will be there tomorrow!! It is not that there are not frustrating things about my job---it is just that I am beyond being frustrated by them.

And I cannot wait until Tuesday, when our staff will have a professional development hour on pest control. Apparently my office is "nice"---even to the unwelcome insects!!

Mr. Crabby pants is CRABBY

He is home today, working. I am home today, not. I have a mammogram later today--topic for another entry. He has a "procedure" tomorrow. The reason for the crabbiness!

He is on a liquid diet--day three of the preparation! Day one was no seeds, nuts, or salads. Yesterday was avoid red food coloring (odd, but I suppose necessary---but really, how many people consume all that much red coloring---I suppose we would be surprised!) Today is only clear liquids! OMG, the end of the world has come!

He started off the morning with the announcement that he was going up to the McDonalds (TM) to get some $1 sausage McMuffins (probably TM). It was not well received that I pointed out that a McMuffin did not fit the definition of "clear liquids". "Caught",he argued about the exact moment "the day before" began, the printed guidance from the Dr. was indisputable---and he relented--this started what I expect to be many hours of extreme CRABBINESS!

Not helping is the ban on coffee (apparently not a clear liquid, and certainly not the way MR. CP brews it!) There is no ban on caffeine, so maybe I will suggest some Mountain Dew to preserve my sanity!! (and maybe prolong his life, as 15 minutes ago he was in serious danger of not living long enough to arrive for tomorrow's procedure!)

He doesn't like the Popsicles (retrieved from the freezer, left behind by Z who forgot they were here)--there are no sticks! He doesn't like bouillon I picked up--it is in cubes that take too long to dissolve! He doesn't like tea, period. The Jello (TM) isn't ready yet.

He doesn't want to drink the 7-UP, Vernors, or Sprite (all TM's) that I procured on his behalf. The consume' poised in the lunch que brought forth "the face"--so apparently it will not be received with enthusiasm either.

Now, a few years ago I went through this same diagnostic/RO procedure. I gave him my words of wisdom--what I wished I had known/done differently. I guess this is one of those things in life that you have to experience to believe that anyone's good advice is worthwhile. I certainly won't forget the part of the instructions about only clear liquids--even 8 years from now when I am scheduled again!

I think I may get ready early, and "shop" my way over to the mammogram center---that way I will not have to endure his miserableness....by the time I get back, we will have just enough time to watch the evening news, and he will be otherwise occupied for the rest of the evening....and I will turn the TV volume to his preferred level, so that it will be impossible to hear him should he be calling......

36 years ago

Today, 36 years ago, 2 was born. Right on time. Exactly on the date. A "brother" that 1 "did not want"--she wanted "just a baby". Always the oldest boy.

A lot has happened in 36 years....more babies, jobs, houses, cars, furniture, pets, trips. Schools, plays, performances, play, work, adolescence, cars, jobs. People who were important links to our past are now gone... grandparents, great aunts and uncles, who 36 years ago were an everyday part of our lives. New people have become an everyday part of his life. 36 years is "forever"-- and just a minute ago.

I got out the pictures from 36 years ago...1 as the only, then the chubby smiley baby--first year documented in snapshots of everyday activities--summer sitting in the grass, in stroller, walker, playpen, with mom, dad, sister....dark hair, dark eyes, chubby baby hands and feet....just yesterday, but a long time ago. He looks the same, but the adult version of that baby.

Now he has his own baby, and sometimes I see a fleeting resemblance. A glimpse into the past, then gone. Because my baby is 36. 36 years is a long time--and it flies by in a minute!! Happy Birthday, 2! Many more!

Procrastination as an art form

This has been my theme for several months now....procrastination. I had our Holiday Cards printed in November. I printed out the mailing labels in December. I declared that they might become Valentine cards the week before Xmas. Now it is the day before Valentine's day, and the Holiday newsletter still is the victim of procrastination. Do you think it will be odd for my friends to get St. Patrick's day Christmas Cards---because I think that is where we are headed!

8 weeks, 84 poses later....

GS has is two months old. Seems like he has been here forever! We did the first formal portraits--a formal capture of his baby-self while still "tiny". "Documenting" , as my own children are so fond of saying....

84 poses--multiple backgrounds, outfits, lighting, special effects. It could have been a Hollywood starlet---he was somewhat baffled, puzzled, surprised, and occasionally amused by the whole thing. The poses are amusing, tilting, cute, adorable, handsome, and funny.

The most amazing thing is the many "looks" of GS! In one he looks just like his maternal grandfather, in another like his paternal grandpa. In one he reminds me of his great grandfather. A few have hints of "mom", a couple look like he is my son's son----but mostly he looks like himself! An interesting blend of the DNA of his ancestors, yet uniquely him.

So another generation is added to my collection of moments captured to enjoy. Documenting...because once the day is gone, it will be gone forever, except in memories and the pictures...84 precious poses---priceless!!

Cat Hair

Over the years I have vacuumed and discarded two or three (maybe more) cats. Now that Mr. Cat has departed, removing the cat hair has a permanence to it--thus is more rewarding.

I now have a table cloth without a chance of cat hair. My ironing board (he just had to help!) will be cat-hair free. The Dyson Pet (I still love this thing) found lots of kitty fur about on the carpet of the first floor yesterday. Today I washed the quilt--more cat hair down the drain, and removed via the dryer lint screen.

I know it will take years---just like their memories, cat linger on. When we moved once, I found a cat hair in the back of the freezer---and the cat had been dead 6 years. I know I had cleaned that freezer in that time, but there it was, easily identifiable as belonging to our dearly departed! Have no idea how it got there---the cat was NEVER in the freezer either!

So our post-Mr. Cat life is different--no one to blame but ourselves, for a mess. Fewer spoons in the dishwasher. Won't be using as many sandwich bags (he only ate 1/2can of food at a sitting). Don't have to empty a litter box on Wednesday and Sunday. Can do laundry without any chance that something will accidentally fall into the litter box (usually this only happened to clean laundry due to the room arrangement...) Don't have to worry about locking him out on the porch. Have no one waking me up before I wish to get up. Yesterday, I did some sewing--and did not have to worry about things flying off my work table, or "someone" sitting on my embroidery arm!!!

Even the chipmunk that lives between the rocks under the kitchen window seems less edgy--no feline watching his every move from behind the screen....

You forget how much work pets are---when you have a ball of fur to warm up your lap as you knit......

An unintended bonus

Almost 18 years ago, we set off as a family (mom, 4 kids) to the humane society. The goal was to get a dog. The youngest had begged for a dog for a long time--and Dad had put it off for a long time, saying we did not have a fenced yard, so we would have to wait. When we bought the "new" house, neither of the adults saw it---the fenced in area for the former owners dog---but were now trapped in the parental promise!!! So, having read the books, we were in search of a family-friendly dog.

We found her (but that is another story line). While there, "Mr. Cat" found us. He was a few ounces of fur, unceremoniously dropped off by a person that did not want him or his litter mates---the result of some random pairing of perhaps not even their own cat, but a mama who choose their garage, or whatever. He was unwanted.

I don't remember which one suggested that we also look at the adorable kitties (but I suspect it was the oldest--having great attachments with two former "family" cats). We had been Cat people--and somehow this little ball of fluff made himself so adorable, that I caved, and we came home with a cat and a dog! The kids said later that he chose me...which may have been true.

The first week was rocky--he got kennel cough and almost died. He lost weight (they had been dropped off before they were weaned). He had fleas, and the treatment to rid both pets of them almost rid us of him too. But, he was a trooper, and grew to be an enormous tiger cat--akin to the folk drawings of wide-bodied felines. His given name was "Turbo", selected by child 3 based on the way he raced around as a kitten. An just like all other males in my household, he was never called by his first name. He became Herr Katza--Mr. Cat, which fit him perfectly. As in, "Mr. to you" cat. He as our "cat-man!"

He was a "lover", but on his own terms. He thought he was over 6 feet tall, being toted around on the shoulders of two tall teens for many years. He had an affinity for ear lobes, being removed from his mother too soon. He had a love/hate relationships with the dog, which entertained us regularly with something akin to the world wrestling federation! When she died, he never got over it, which sent him in to a deep depression.

He had "adjusted" as each child left, turning his attention more and more to the two grownups left. He weathered the move to a new house, and found new challenges to living in a house in the country, where watchfulness might reward you with a rodent, or at least a good chase. He was instantly and strangely attracted to wicker porch furniture purchased shortly after the dog died, and made it his favorite place for all the months it was warm enough to survey his world from the screen porch. He made the most of the Happy Cat Pet Bed, the Special Kitty pet Bed, and the "Love Bucket" for cats, in rotation--during the day! At night, most nights, he persistently found a way to sap body heat from one of the two owners.

He once triumphantly presented an eviscerated chipmunk, which he had "taken down" when it invaded his space. (See prior post) That, we suspect, was the beginning of his end--a chipmunk that had probably ingested some poison. He rapidly lost weight. Within a year, the vet diagnosed a "liver mass". We declined exploratory surgery. We tried medicines for awhile, but he rejected them. Finally, we decided to give in, and just let him chart the course. The hospice began.

There was food finickiness. He was adamant about his porch time. He started sleeping as close as you would allow him to your head. He walked slower, stopped being an aerialist, and finally stopped trying to help with the knitting, enjoying instead a snuggle in the products of the needles. We almost forgot that this was not normal--until a visitor would comment on our "skinny cat". We adapted as we went along--and finally, his food (previously delivered on the kitchen island long after any need for keeping his food away from the dog existed) moved to the floor, as he could no longer negotiate the tall leap.

He continued to enjoy porch time in his favorite chair and serious lap/TV time with the grown ups. He never complained. The sweet and loving disposition was there until the end. In the end, it was the body that give out. His little sparkly eyes were there, even though the legs could not longer move the body that was really just his bones, covered with fur.

Although we are sad, remember the 17.5 years of unconditional love he supplied to the family he made his own. He was a special friend to each of us and dimension of our shared experience as a family. His remains will be fittingly placed with his best friend, his dog, whom he never stopped missing.

Our house is quiet now, without his "comments", the thunks of his jumps, the "tink" of his tag, the sound of the cycling of the auto litter box--each gone. We can read the newspaper without moving a limp, protesting cat around on the print. One can eat their cereal without having to protect the bowl from his desire to share the milk. When one finishes with yogurt, there is no need to scrape out the last bits for the hovering demanding cat. Ice cream is your own! Potato chips are not knocked from your hand on the way to your mouth. Making a ham sandwich does not require that you hold the ham high in the air! We can now walk through a darkened house with confidence that we will not be tripped, and can sit anywhere we please without looking first. It is a different lifestyle with no cat litter tracks to sweep up.

He was am amazingly old cat who had a great life, and despite his failing body, enjoyed what he could until the end! He loved each of "his people" and those they added to our family, even tolerating the annoying "grand dog" that would occasionally show up to spend the weekend.

The old cat chart does not go high enough to capture his age--but around 108 is probably close. 17.5 years is a long time---He will be missed, not forgotten, but also not replaced. It takes too many years to teach them how to knit!

Is there an invisible travelers aide sign?

We live on three acres in a area of sparse population--just off the road to nowhere. Yet is amazes me how many people end up driving up my private driveway to ask for directions!

If you get off the freeway, and head north, hoping to find something, you will travel several miles, and realize that you have made a wrong turn somewhere---except that you haven't---this is all that is here!! The road winds and turns, goes up hill and down, so I suppose it is a little disorientating to those who have no sense of direction! They end up going east, when they think they are going north---because there is a tendency to stay on the paved road.

Which I suppose is why, when they finally see a paved side road that looks like it is inhabited, they slow down and turn---then choose the first driveway---Or there is some sort of invisible (to me) "travelers aide" sign pointing right to our house!!

We have had people show up with flat tires. We have had people show up looking for a park. We have had people who were just hopelessly lost.... all of them "older" women, in upscale cars. They ring my doorbell, and assume I am not an ax murder, sex offender, or other ominous type. They want directions, or for me to call a tow truck.

I am not originally a "country" girl. I grew up in an area where you did not go to "strange" people houses, for any reason---let alone a house in the middle of nowhere. What are these people thinking?

They could go back the way they came--and start over. They could get a GPS (last one had a Cadillac for goodness sake!). They could try map quest or google maps. They could get directions before they leave home. They could keep going and hope to find civilization. They could use their cell phones to call someone for directions, or get a cell phone like mine, where I can pinpoint my exact location on google maps on the phone!!.....But instead, when they get lost, they end up in my driveway!

Maybe when I retire, I will get some exterior plywood, and make a little roadside stand to put out down near the road---and be like Lucy Van Pelt, "Directions, 25 cents"!

Apparently although I can identify the specific cars parked in my driveway on a satellite map, there is still the need for someone who can point down the road, and say--go that way until you get to the end of the road, and turn right!

3 to 4 lbs!!!

Recently my DIL boasted that she lost 3.8 lbs! Today, I found it....or rather, my exterminator did.

Before today I did not have an exterminator--I had an extensive collection of rodent traps and a can of raid, supplemented by ant traps. That was my arsenal against keeping the "wilds" out of my house. When you live in "the country", things are constantly trying to move in with you!

For the last few weeks, I have been observing and occasionally doing battle with some yellow jackets that seemed to have developed an affinity for the corner of my house. By today, it was more than an affinity--and based on the Internet info (I don't know how we lived without the Internet!!) I was hopelessly beyond a can of Raid, as their nest was obviously somewhere--but not visible on the outside of the house! Out came the yellow pages, and quickly I had arranged for "Tony" from a pest control company to come out and look at my yellow jacket problem. I was working at home today--making this adventure possible!

When he arrived, he looked at my "bee-central station" and said he needed to start in the basement! That had not really occurred to me--that they had actually moved beyond the sill plate and into the ceiling of our finished basement. A tentative lift of the ceiling tiles--and we were off to exterminate, as he instantly identified the nest--entangled in cable coax, plumbing, insulation, wiring, and duct work in a corner of the house.....

He suited up, asked for a grocery bag, and warned me to stay upstairs. I went back to telecommuting (very convenient way to help facilitate a visit from your exterminator, it turns out). I head a little clunking and bunking, but went on with my work. A while later, Tony emerged, in full bee suit, and went around to the back of the house. He said he had dying yellow jackets in the basement, and now it was time to puff the killer powder into their entrance. I watched from the screen porch, as he puffed away, into the invisible hole, surrounded by confused and hostile bees! I began to appreciate the value of the exterminator!! (I do not have, nor do I want, a bee suit, but he needed it just then!)

He returned to the basement, and I watched the swirling bees outside as they were drawn to the hole, but sensed something was amiss. A few "white powdery" bees emerged, and nose dived to the ground. There was quite a swarm for quite awhile. The cat, dozing on the porch, was unimpressed. I was fascinated.

About a half hour later, Tony emerged again, removed his Bee helmet, and asked for some paper toweling---he was completely wet from being inside the suit on an 80 degree humid day, doing battle with my yellow-jackets. He asked for another grocery bag, and some water. I gave him a double bag--no problem. He went back to "nest removal"...muttering something about a "city" down there. I went back to work. The bees were still buzzing around outside, acting a little crazy. The cat was still snoozing in the sun.

Finally, a triumphant Tony emerged from the basement...stuffed grocery bag in hand--leaving a slight trail of dead yellow jackets on the steps...saying "LOOK--it is about 3-4 pounds! Biggest nest I ever saw. It went in all directions. They have stopped buzzing now--and I have most of it in the bag-----I'll just put this in my truck.!" (I think he wanted it as a trophy!!--fine with me!). He came back to retrieve his "stuff" and went to fill out the paper work. I snuck down to survey the "war zone"---in the corner the ceiling was lifted--yellow jackets, confined by the glass doors flew lazily around--in big loops (death spirals, according to Tony). There were nest "crumbs" on the floor, and dead yellow-jackets in small piles. According to Tony, I needed to wait 24 hours before using the shop vac to clean this up--so they would all be really dead--and so my shop vac would not melt from the posion ---no problem!

The bill presented and paid, Tony kept telling me how he had never seen a nest this big--going in all directions! He seemed quite proud of the eradication, and said that I have a 60 day guarantee--but he did not expect me to call. I thought he was wonderful--and am delighted with the promise of being yellow-jacket free!

He says I have some mess left to clean out--as he went as far as he could, then applied some more Killer---and in a few days, I could pull out the rest (--or just leave it there!). Fix the hole they entered through...vacuum up the floor. He did not think he would need to come back----but did say (again and again) it was the biggest nest he had ever seen!!!

So, Stately Wayne Manor now has an exterminator. It is so much easier than dealing with it yourself! He has a bee suit! He has killer powders! He wraps the nest up in a grocery bag, and takes it away in his truck....all for just some cash!! Within two hours, not a yellow jacket in sight outside the house. Cat still snoozing, and I wrapped up my work day!

Now listen young people---if you are looking for a stable career, consider extermination--it cannot be outsourced overseas, and there are no shortage of pests for people to want not in their homes. Sounds like a good career choice in this weird economy! Besides, all your clients will LOVE you!

And really, I never even heard them buzzing......

Like riding a bicycle....

Yesterday new GS was 11 days old. I can't believe that almost two weeks have past since he entered our lives (and I am sure that his parents have thoughts about this too--although I doubt it has flown by for them!) I had the fortune to be visiting at the hospital, when the post-partum nurse emphasized that it was important for mom to (turning to me!!) have grandma watch the baby so that Mom could get away--even if just to walk to the corner.....and launched into her post-partum depression avoidance "speech".

This grandma works full time--so last weekend offered the "service" so Mom could walk to the corner--offer declined. Offered again this weekend, and it was gleefully accepted.

When I arrived, GS was freshly fed, and I was informed, in "burp" mode. Mom and dad headed off--not to the corner, but to Target. Grandpa Crabby Pants (GCP), recovering from the plague, kept his distance--which I think was fine with him, as he is much more anxious to explain the difference between English and Metric sockets to GS (at a later date) than to participate in "burping". (Although GCP could probably give the kid a few pointers on this topic) GCP took pictures, and attempted to learn how to send them with his blackberry...which was funny, considering his professed techno-savyiness, and limited success--but that is a story for another day.

GS, of course, wonderful. And amazingly, I did not need a hazzmat suit to handle this little one (unlike my memories of my own children!) He does not spit up, projectile vomit, and did not leak while I was his caregiver. This kid is a piece of cake!!!

GS and I cuddled, danced, swayed, got dressed, swaddled, talked, posed for pictures, snuggled, looked out the window, re-swaddled, walked and rocked. (On the advice of my children, we did not sing...)Finally, we burped (although I think it was more accidental than deliberate.) Of course, the one thing he wanted more than anything was away at the Target--and I empathized while he grumbled a little.

Just as Mom and Dad pulled into the drive, he stopped fighting it, and drifted off to sleep. A deep, contented, I am secure, full, comfy, and all is right with my world, baby sleep. Mom and dad returned triumphantly with a baby swing and a papoose pack--because as the parents, they must get other things done (like sleep and laundry) and they (unlike grandmothers) do not feel that they can hold the little munchkin 24/7. And in their defense, and the defense of parents everywhere, neither did grandmothers when they were the mom..but we can now, and do, and will continue to do so, because we get the chance to, and of course get to go home and sleep!

We took Dad to dinner, and brought back a turkey avocado sandwich for mom at her request---GS was still soundly sleeping---a full two hours! Mom could not believe it,and had just performed the "mirror under the nostrils test"---to make sure he was still breathing!!!

Mom marveled at the "soundly sleeping", and thinks that I should be there at midnight!!! I was thrilled that babies are still "low tech", and that my data bank was intact and still useful after all these years!

And apparently, GS feels dealing with your grandmother is exhausting!!!

A community of knitters

I have a lot of "kitting friends"--people who speak a sub-language known only to those who enjoy the craft. Some, I have never met face to face. Others are my coffee house acquaintances. Still others, share my love of turning yarn into something warm and wonderful.

They are all ages, these knitting friends. A young mom, the retired, degreed and not, from near and far. We share a love of the fiber, and appreciation for finely balanced needles, and the challenge of figuring out cryptic directions. We knit for others, for charity, for ourselves. We admire the work of others and share tips and techniques.

Knitting---who knew it would lead to "social networking" !!!!

Immortality

Long awaited bio GC #1 was born Tuesday. A beautiful boy. Miraculous in every way---and just as awesome as his father, aunts and uncle were when they arrived. Being the grandma is a new experience--and experience is what you have going for you as a grandma---and perhaps more affluence that when you were the mom.

So, day 4, I got a "smile". Some may say it is "gas" or random facial muscle moves, but I am convinced that it was a real genuine human interaction "smile"... We have had three substantive conversations, J and I---because auditory stimulation is important, and my prior experience with dementia allows me to have one sided conversations---except that in our third conversation was not one sided. I got facial muscle movements, eye contact, and then--the smile.

If he wasn't already my fav GC, that sealed it. Babies have a way of winning you over--in an instant! The DNA lives on--my link to the future.

You realize how much you learned while being a parent when you have a new grandchild---and you have the luxury of sitting back and enjoying the ride!!!

I was not complaining......

that our summer has been unseasonable cool! It has been delightfully in the 70's most of the summer---and at times a little cooler. I thrive in these temps! I was enjoying the weather--sweater to start the day (a knitters dream!), ditched by 2 o'clock! Nice breezes! Perfect.

Today is what summer usually is---90+/90+ degrees and humidity!! Yetch! We are behind schedule on the porch re-screening because of the torrential rains yesterday---so have had to do double today!! (Despite the best of plans, we end up exhausted trying to finish on Sunday!!) "I am sweaty" does not begin to describe what it is like to be doing this in what seems like a tropical swamp (we have a lot of decorative tall grasses around the porch---or rather had)!

We are on the home stretch--but not done yet! Waiting for the "cooler" evening to trim it out---the last step. It looks very nice, and the combination of a larger viewing area and no holes (!) is exciting! Cleaning up the mess is not exciting!

After today--only three more panels to go!!! Will be done by labor day (hopefully!) And the project of the summer gets done this year!! And we are still married!!

The early bird...

Gets a lot done! This is another "unpaid time off" day--long story. I got up early, got ready, cleaned the house, and was out the door in search of a bargain by 8:30. It turns out while I am at work, other people can be at the store with the special before the doors open, get the 50% off items that they want, check out, and be back in their car about the same time the store is supposed to open.

It was my first "open, open, open" experience---very satisfying!

Next on the list was a new passport picture. Not that I am going anywhere, but mine is going to expire this year, and you never know, something may come up. The last two have been terrible! This is better, but the way they take them, makes you look not at all like what you think you look like. But mission accomplished in less than 10 minutes--parking, checking in, click, processing, selecting, and printing....turns out that 9:05 is a terrific time to have your passport picture taken quickly!!!

In less than an hour I am back home--mission accomplished!! Amazing what you can get done when you do not work!!!

I loaded the dishwasher, cleaned the stove, watered the plants, took out the trash, and moved the lawn ornamentation out of the way so the porch project could move forward---waiting for my friend, E. to arrive so we can go to the outlet mall!

I will not overburden you with the details, but it was a successful trip and yummy lunch!!! Turns out people who do not work meet their friends, and find bargains, and have yummy lunches!!

So, it was a great day! Had fun. Came home and helped Mr. CP demo one side of the porch, and re-frame the three openings for re-screening!!

I am still marveling at what I accomplished because I did not go to work today!! Of course I could not do this everyday if I did not work--as would soon run out of space in my house, or money, or both!!.....but it does give me hopes that my house will be cleaner after I retire!!!

5 weeks and counting....

To grandparenthood!

The shower for "10" was yesterday. Wow! They sure got a lot of baby stuff---it completely filled the commander, with one item left behind to be retrieved later. I think they have what they need. Crib, mattress, changing table (courtesy of the other grandma) two strollers (one big for walking the dog and trips to town, one for the trunk for impulse trips), a pack and play, diaper bags, nursery textiles, books, clothes, a bumbo (hilarious item--wish I was making money from it!), a travel bed, bassinet, creams and lotions, blankets, burpies, bibs, bottles, bouncy jumper thingy, toys, and more. Today they are disassembling "the office" to begin to make it "10"'s room.

Mom and baby doing well. I know that this final month will seem like forever to the parents, but will fly by.

I can't wait to shop for pink or blue---to know the name (which they wisely have chosen not to divulge) to see what the little munchkin looks like, to cuddle the little fuzzy head, smell the sweat baby smell......loved the newborn phase with my kids---before they could say "no", or roll their eyes, or complain about me. When the were content to snooze cradled in you arms. I know I will be looking for "2" in the tiny face, or searching for a resemblance to 1, 3, or 4. My genetic link to the future.

So, I am one of the last of my friends to become a grandmother. Everyone says that the first is special, although I think that all I am fortunate enough to have will be pretty special. Maybe it is special because you are assured that your DNA will continue. Maybe it is special because you can hand them back to the parent when you are tired of them. But maybe it is special because you know more now, about babies and life, than you did when you first became a parent. You know it is all survivable!

So, I am ready. Have pink and blue knitting completed and waiting. Am confident that the parents now have what they need to provide a great start for my grandbaby--except for some diapers (which they have promised to acquire!) Hope all goes well with the birth. Know 2 will be a great dad.

It is so much easier to be the grandma....no wonder my friends highly recommend it!!

More features than a swiss army knife!

Last week, 1 called me in the middle of the day---as she ran screaming from the large infant/child everything store! She was overwhelmed! 1 had obtained the baby registry for 2 and wife---with every intent of obtaining an appropriate shower gift. She left with only one small thing, as the overload of features, products, and "stuff" kicked in her ADD!

Today I took a look online at a "pack and Play"--the "essential" that every baby must have. It is basically what, in my mothering days, was called a "through the door" playpen---slightly larger and more PC than putting your toddler into a dog crate. A very useful piece of child containment equipment---I loved my "play pens"!, and 1, 2, 3, and 4 had no other choice!!

The "new and improved" version of the play pen, is touted for its portability. Probably a good feature, as a play pen required a large moving van to take anywhere. Of course with 4 kids, I rarely went anywhere, so it was not so much of a problem.

Then, it gets ridiculous---night lights, vibrations, sleeping shelf, bassinet with hood, changing table, wipes storage (sorry, no warmer)! Diaper stacker.....the Swiss army knife of baby gear!!! I think it has soothing sounds and rocking motions---I wonder if it breast feeds too!! How handy! You only need one thing, and it does everything!! (probably too much!)

The interesting thing in the on-line product reviews is that no one has ever packed the thing up---the new parents talk about it, just say they haven't done it yet....so although technology marches on, and the playpen has been elevated to new levels---it seems it is still rare to take the baby and its equipment anywhere---just easier to stay at home!!! Wonder if the thing has an I pod jack???????

In Memory of Margaret

Margaret was my "friend". We met several years ago, brought together by knitting and a desire to knit among other knitters. We both somehow ended up at the same coffee house knitting group--friends who would perhaps have never otherwise even met.

When we first met, Margaret had just retired. We worked in the same "industry", but our paths had never crossed. Our relationship was one of convenience and shared interest, limited to the Wednesday nights our paths crossed, but that does not diminish it's value.

Margaret was a person with convictions and opinions, who was not afraid to let you know what she thought. We debated current events, world problems, the news, politics, religion, and the virtues of different yarns. Margaret was enthusiastic--and not afraid to try new things. If it did not work out, or did not continue to interest her, she found a new home for it and moved on--unburdened, but richer for having tried. We shared a love of rings, antiques, and family. Margaret was funny and fun, and I will miss her.

She was a charitable person, quietly making sure that others had what they needed. She knew what she wanted--and once went to the mat over a bizarre pink pig in a tutu at a Christmas party--determined it would be hers at all costs during the white elephant exchange! She enthusiastically embraced knitting games at Knit Michigan, not to win, but to have fun along the way. That was the way Margaret lived her life.

Margaret had developed some health problems, and was frustrated that despite all she tried, things did not get better. She give the honest try, but when things did not work out, moved on--living her life, loving her grandchildren, and taking a class to improve her knitting. We all knew that she was not feeling well. That the Dr's. could not seem to find a cure that worked for what ailed her, or even really identify what was causing her symptoms. That slowed her down a little, but did not stop her.

The last time I saw Margaret, she came to knitting, despite being in pain. She was very uncomfortable, and frustrated that the medical community could not find out what was wrong, nor could they provide relief. They thought she had dislocated her ribs. In just a few weeks, she was dead. The victim of pancreatic cancer, diagnosed shortly before her death. Would it have mattered if she had known this diagnosis sooner? Probably not. She was uncomfortable, but spared the false hope and rigors of cancer treatments, to arrive at the same end.

Margaret will be missed. She was boisterous, sometimes bawdy, opinionated, and had a heart of gold. She enhanced us all for having known her unselfish spirit and giving nature. Margaret was one of my knitting friends and I am fortunate to have known her.