For those who know me, I'm a wee bit obsessive about baseball.
Especially the Cardinals. I grew up listening to them with my dad and his dad, while out on the farm, in the truck, in the farmhouse. My dad and I went to games. Straight-A tickets were my life in grade school, and when I couldn't get 'em anymore, I bugged my siblings to get 'em.
Sure, I married a Twins fan. It's a mixed marriage. If we end up in the World Series against each other, I've promised to move out to save the marriage.
I'm not joking. Those of you who know me best know that.
So the recent eight-game skid has sent me over the edge.
My husband is a Twinkie's fan. He's philosophical about losses. My eldest is a Cubs fan (I know, I know, I'm working on it). She's learning that it's expected and a fact of life.
So, watching the last two innings of the game last night on Fox Sports Midwest (greatest invention ev-ah), I was about to throw in the towel in the ninth. Hubby made me stay.
Thanks hon.
Bernie Miklasz of the Post-Dispatch(who I've been reading since he was a cub reporter and I was a kid), details how nuts we Cards fans get in light of a fluke win after an eight-game skid.
29 June 2006
20 June 2006
Summer slam
Somehow, every day, I have good intentions of posting.
And somehow, every day, real life intervenes with cyberlife.
So, forgive me, but posts will be few and far between. In light of recent deaths this year (look, I can be taught, Maurie and Rob), I'm taking time in the real world to enjoy my kids, and my life.
I won't abandon y'all, but after losing a surrogate mom to cancer and one of the best mentors/Iowa columnists ever to ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) in the first six months of 2006, I've decided some things in life are more important.
Life is busy. But in a good way. My son started swim lessons last night, and is having a blast. My eldest is in her second week of day camp, and having a blast. She learned how to sew with her grandmother at the start of the month, and made a gorgeous quilt. Now maybe that sewing machine will get some use.
The little one, while still small in stature, is large in life. Her favorite word is NO. She doesn't want to be carried any longer (sniff), but will squirm out of my arms and run to follow her siblings to do what they are doing.
I'm going to enjoy the summer with my kids. Maybe later this week I'll post about lightning bugs, as we plan to catch some this weekend at my parents' farm.
And somehow, every day, real life intervenes with cyberlife.
So, forgive me, but posts will be few and far between. In light of recent deaths this year (look, I can be taught, Maurie and Rob), I'm taking time in the real world to enjoy my kids, and my life.
I won't abandon y'all, but after losing a surrogate mom to cancer and one of the best mentors/Iowa columnists ever to ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) in the first six months of 2006, I've decided some things in life are more important.
Life is busy. But in a good way. My son started swim lessons last night, and is having a blast. My eldest is in her second week of day camp, and having a blast. She learned how to sew with her grandmother at the start of the month, and made a gorgeous quilt. Now maybe that sewing machine will get some use.
The little one, while still small in stature, is large in life. Her favorite word is NO. She doesn't want to be carried any longer (sniff), but will squirm out of my arms and run to follow her siblings to do what they are doing.
I'm going to enjoy the summer with my kids. Maybe later this week I'll post about lightning bugs, as we plan to catch some this weekend at my parents' farm.
25 May 2006
Blog shout out
Okay, so we're headed to family for the weekend, which means my chances of posting for the next week are nil.
I'll leave you with some baseball blog gems that we've found for our teams. If you have a funnier Cardinals blog, let me know, because BatGirl is hard to compete with.
The Twins best (and funniest) blogger, with a hilarious recent entry:
BatGirl
A Cards blog that is mildy entertaining:
Cardinals Diaspora
I'll leave you with some baseball blog gems that we've found for our teams. If you have a funnier Cardinals blog, let me know, because BatGirl is hard to compete with.
The Twins best (and funniest) blogger, with a hilarious recent entry:
A Cards blog that is mildy entertaining:
23 May 2006
Currently spinning
Dixie Chicks, Taking the Long Way.
Sweet.
I'm not a techie like my bud Christian, who has a running feed from last.fm (quite cool, btw). But I ran out today and bought the new CD from one of my favorite groups.
It's good. Really good. Not as bluegrassy, but it's not bad. "I Hope" has a gospel tinge to it. "Lullaby" is beautiful, and I love that since they've had children, they always include a lullaby on the album.
Oh, and they don't only call out W., they also call out Lubbock. Which, you know, those who have lived in Texas, really needed to be done. So amen, good job chicks.
Sweet.
I'm not a techie like my bud Christian, who has a running feed from last.fm (quite cool, btw). But I ran out today and bought the new CD from one of my favorite groups.
It's good. Really good. Not as bluegrassy, but it's not bad. "I Hope" has a gospel tinge to it. "Lullaby" is beautiful, and I love that since they've had children, they always include a lullaby on the album.
Oh, and they don't only call out W., they also call out Lubbock. Which, you know, those who have lived in Texas, really needed to be done. So amen, good job chicks.
11 May 2006
Death in the family
That's how it seems.
Every summer of my life as a child, my parents would pack us up in the car, drive up U.S. 63, and after seven hours of torture (first in a Nova, then in Celebrities), we'd land in Newton, Iowa, for our summer vacation visit with my dad's best friend's family.
Newton was idyllic. It was also Maytag. Maytag Park. Maytag Pool. Maytag museum. Dad's friend: engineer at Maytag.
Maytag died yesterday.
They'd been struggling for a while in the new, competitive marketplace. But they prided themselves on building and buying in America.
About three years ago, it became an annual question: Would my dad's friend be able to stay on long enough to get his pension? Layoffs abounded. For a while, it looked like he'd have to move to Chicago, when a CEO decided the way to profitability was to move the entire works to the Chi 'burbs.
Whirlpool bought them a few weeks ago, after a threat from a Chinese company. Two weeks ago, my dad's friend got a mannila envelope with an answer.
Today, the rest of Newton received an answer.
Maytag died today. Newton's in trouble.
Read about a very special place, one I spent time in every summer for 18 years.
[url]http://www.dmregister.com[/url]
Every summer of my life as a child, my parents would pack us up in the car, drive up U.S. 63, and after seven hours of torture (first in a Nova, then in Celebrities), we'd land in Newton, Iowa, for our summer vacation visit with my dad's best friend's family.
Newton was idyllic. It was also Maytag. Maytag Park. Maytag Pool. Maytag museum. Dad's friend: engineer at Maytag.
Maytag died yesterday.
They'd been struggling for a while in the new, competitive marketplace. But they prided themselves on building and buying in America.
About three years ago, it became an annual question: Would my dad's friend be able to stay on long enough to get his pension? Layoffs abounded. For a while, it looked like he'd have to move to Chicago, when a CEO decided the way to profitability was to move the entire works to the Chi 'burbs.
Whirlpool bought them a few weeks ago, after a threat from a Chinese company. Two weeks ago, my dad's friend got a mannila envelope with an answer.
Today, the rest of Newton received an answer.
Maytag died today. Newton's in trouble.
Read about a very special place, one I spent time in every summer for 18 years.
[url]http://www.dmregister.com[/url]
10 May 2006
Why I love my daughter's school
Thursday night was her school's annual talent show. As always, she did a piano piece, and did great.
But that wasn't the best part. This was:
For every performance, every other kid in the place--and parents too--cheered loudly.
Didn't matter how well they did, didn't matter if they were first graders line dancing or a fifth grader telling corny jokes or piano players at any level or a seventh grader rockin' out to licks of Motley Crue or an eighth grader so emotional at his last performance on the stage he's haunted for the past three years' worth of talent shows and Christmas plays that he
forgot some of the lyrics to his song.
Every time: Loud cheers. Wolf whistles. Claps. Pretend lighters held in the air.
That sense of community is just priceless. In so many schools today, it's just not there.
My daughter's school may be the smallest in the school system here. It may be the oldest building.
But it--hands down--has the best atmosphere, and by far the most caring student body, teachers, and parents, I've ever seen.
But that wasn't the best part. This was:
For every performance, every other kid in the place--and parents too--cheered loudly.
Didn't matter how well they did, didn't matter if they were first graders line dancing or a fifth grader telling corny jokes or piano players at any level or a seventh grader rockin' out to licks of Motley Crue or an eighth grader so emotional at his last performance on the stage he's haunted for the past three years' worth of talent shows and Christmas plays that he
forgot some of the lyrics to his song.
Every time: Loud cheers. Wolf whistles. Claps. Pretend lighters held in the air.
That sense of community is just priceless. In so many schools today, it's just not there.
My daughter's school may be the smallest in the school system here. It may be the oldest building.
But it--hands down--has the best atmosphere, and by far the most caring student body, teachers, and parents, I've ever seen.
26 April 2006
Why?
Why does it have to be so darn hard?
I knew parenting wouldn't be easy, but why did I pull the card for three strong-willed kids?
Don't get me wrong, they are great kids, but raising them to be functioning members of society instead of hedonistic cavepeople is work.
Why is it when new management comes in to work, they seem to think they know better than the people who have been there for years?
Both my husband and I are dealing with newish management. We both feel so darn frustrated sometimes, when they take off on some new path that we just know will lead to grief, and they don't listen to us?
It just ends up leaving us feeling like cogs in a wheel. Our institutional knowledge and history of place count for nothing. Oh, and apparently 10+ years in the business count for nothing if you don't have a terminal degree.
Sheesh. I can't write what I'm probably going to want to say after the next few days at work.
Why does corporate America think it owns us body and soul?
Our raises are less than inflation, they expect us to work longer hours, in my case, sometimes travel without much notice, kill our self-esteem, belittle our credentials, and oh, not listen to us (see above). I care about what I do. Deeply. I just don't want to live there, no do I want to be dictated to. Hello, I've got a degree from a major university. Nowhere on that degree does it read "Slave".
I just want to tell them to chuck it. Nothing is as important as my family, and I resent the fact that my husband and I are forced to negotiate, or worse, value work over time spent with the people most important to us.
In case you can't tell, it's been a pretty darn awful couple of weeks, and it doesn't look like it's gonna get much better soon.
I knew parenting wouldn't be easy, but why did I pull the card for three strong-willed kids?
Don't get me wrong, they are great kids, but raising them to be functioning members of society instead of hedonistic cavepeople is work.
Why is it when new management comes in to work, they seem to think they know better than the people who have been there for years?
Both my husband and I are dealing with newish management. We both feel so darn frustrated sometimes, when they take off on some new path that we just know will lead to grief, and they don't listen to us?
It just ends up leaving us feeling like cogs in a wheel. Our institutional knowledge and history of place count for nothing. Oh, and apparently 10+ years in the business count for nothing if you don't have a terminal degree.
Sheesh. I can't write what I'm probably going to want to say after the next few days at work.
Why does corporate America think it owns us body and soul?
Our raises are less than inflation, they expect us to work longer hours, in my case, sometimes travel without much notice, kill our self-esteem, belittle our credentials, and oh, not listen to us (see above). I care about what I do. Deeply. I just don't want to live there, no do I want to be dictated to. Hello, I've got a degree from a major university. Nowhere on that degree does it read "Slave".
I just want to tell them to chuck it. Nothing is as important as my family, and I resent the fact that my husband and I are forced to negotiate, or worse, value work over time spent with the people most important to us.
In case you can't tell, it's been a pretty darn awful couple of weeks, and it doesn't look like it's gonna get much better soon.
17 April 2006
Murmph
I love Easter.
I love dark chocolate.
'nough said. :)
Some funny moments:
Twice this weekend our son was up before the crack of dawn. Both times I caught him with chipmunk cheeks o'chocolate. (once from his daycare party stash, once from the Bunny basket stash).
Our youngest looked cute as a button in her frilly pink dress. (yes, I have caved with the second girl. I dress her girly. Deal.) But ten seconds after pulling it over her head, she was saying "NO. NO. NO."
Later that day, she ripped off the skorts Dad changed her into. Apparently she is rejecting the girly clothes at 19 months.
Once again, the only photos we have of our eldest during the Great Egg Hunt are of her back, in blur, because she's running around like a psycho child to snag more eggs than anyone else. This despite the fact that she's pretty sure the Bunny involves trickery with Mom and Dad and other accomplices.
I love dark chocolate.
'nough said. :)
Some funny moments:
Twice this weekend our son was up before the crack of dawn. Both times I caught him with chipmunk cheeks o'chocolate. (once from his daycare party stash, once from the Bunny basket stash).
Our youngest looked cute as a button in her frilly pink dress. (yes, I have caved with the second girl. I dress her girly. Deal.) But ten seconds after pulling it over her head, she was saying "NO. NO. NO."
Later that day, she ripped off the skorts Dad changed her into. Apparently she is rejecting the girly clothes at 19 months.
Once again, the only photos we have of our eldest during the Great Egg Hunt are of her back, in blur, because she's running around like a psycho child to snag more eggs than anyone else. This despite the fact that she's pretty sure the Bunny involves trickery with Mom and Dad and other accomplices.
13 April 2006
Bevare, the Vampire!
Also known as our nearly four-year-old son.
It is a really sad thing when you have to drop your child off at school and preface each day with this line:
Okay, you aren't going to bite anyone today, right?
He's decided that the best way to get his way at school is to chomp. Earlier this week, he was defending his friend, who was having a toy taken away by another egotistical four-year-old (they are all egotistical four-year-olds, mine included). Kid two decided the best way to help his friend was to bite the hand of the offender.
Where are the parenting manuals again? Seriously. We need them.
In other news, our little one is half-monkey. She's decided it is fun to climb on and over furniture. She's barely 29 inches tall. You just don't expect anyone that small to be able to be sitting on top of the back of the sofa.
Want to take bets on how long it is before I have a post here on her breaking her collarbone? Over/under is within a year.
It is a really sad thing when you have to drop your child off at school and preface each day with this line:
Okay, you aren't going to bite anyone today, right?
He's decided that the best way to get his way at school is to chomp. Earlier this week, he was defending his friend, who was having a toy taken away by another egotistical four-year-old (they are all egotistical four-year-olds, mine included). Kid two decided the best way to help his friend was to bite the hand of the offender.
Where are the parenting manuals again? Seriously. We need them.
In other news, our little one is half-monkey. She's decided it is fun to climb on and over furniture. She's barely 29 inches tall. You just don't expect anyone that small to be able to be sitting on top of the back of the sofa.
Want to take bets on how long it is before I have a post here on her breaking her collarbone? Over/under is within a year.
26 March 2006
Mental mommy weekend notes
1) Sleeping in past nine a.m. is bliss. Two days in a row is heaven. No idea why they let me do that.
2) Albert Finney played Daddy Warbucks in Annie.> He also played Ed Masry in Erin Brockovich. Knowing one has now totally ruined the other for me. But my eldest loved watching Annie, even though I had to practically twist her arm to watch it.
3) Why is it that no one is selling sundresses this year? I have a wedding to attend in Texas in two weeks. No sundresses anywhere in petite. Not online, not locally, nowhere. Sheesh.
4) Work cranks up again as spring break ends. But I have no interest right now.
5) Kill Bill entertains me wayyyy more than it should. Especially the soliloquies in Vol. 2.
2) Albert Finney played Daddy Warbucks in Annie.> He also played Ed Masry in Erin Brockovich. Knowing one has now totally ruined the other for me. But my eldest loved watching Annie, even though I had to practically twist her arm to watch it.
3) Why is it that no one is selling sundresses this year? I have a wedding to attend in Texas in two weeks. No sundresses anywhere in petite. Not online, not locally, nowhere. Sheesh.
4) Work cranks up again as spring break ends. But I have no interest right now.
5) Kill Bill entertains me wayyyy more than it should. Especially the soliloquies in Vol. 2.
17 March 2006
Publishing, take me away!
Some of my blogging friends have running lists of what they read.
I don't.
I read.
A lot.
I've always read. My mother banned books from the dinner table when I was a kid (something I still struggle with today, even though I know it is impolite and a bad habit). I started reading somewhere around 3 or 4.
My first book: Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss. My dad read it to me all the time, but by an early age, I didn't have it memorized. I knew how to read from it.
I read to other kids in kindergarten. I'd read in the family car on long trips. I'd read on weekends, nice or not outside, to my parents' chagrin. My mom put a limit of 20 books on me per checkout of the library during the summer.
I still read on trips. I try to read to my kids. Right now my son's favorite is Harry the Dirty Dog (he and Harry have a lot in common). My youngest's favorite is Easter Bugs by David A. Carter. (or any of his books. She loves his pop-ups.)
My eldest isn't a reader. It baffles me. She doesn't read fiction. She's like her dad; she'll read nonfiction. If the topic interests her. Right now, she's plowing through our Calvin and Hobbes collection during spring break.
I consider that a good sign, both for her perspective on life and our parenting skills.
I haven't updated the books side in a while. I've read a lot of great books, and a lot of trash--love my romance novels, I do. But I'm a lazy wench, and editing code takes more time than I have.
But this time, I've added a few well worth reading. Take the time and read them, then let me know what you think.
I don't.
I read.
A lot.
I've always read. My mother banned books from the dinner table when I was a kid (something I still struggle with today, even though I know it is impolite and a bad habit). I started reading somewhere around 3 or 4.
My first book: Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss. My dad read it to me all the time, but by an early age, I didn't have it memorized. I knew how to read from it.
I read to other kids in kindergarten. I'd read in the family car on long trips. I'd read on weekends, nice or not outside, to my parents' chagrin. My mom put a limit of 20 books on me per checkout of the library during the summer.
I still read on trips. I try to read to my kids. Right now my son's favorite is Harry the Dirty Dog (he and Harry have a lot in common). My youngest's favorite is Easter Bugs by David A. Carter. (or any of his books. She loves his pop-ups.)
My eldest isn't a reader. It baffles me. She doesn't read fiction. She's like her dad; she'll read nonfiction. If the topic interests her. Right now, she's plowing through our Calvin and Hobbes collection during spring break.
I consider that a good sign, both for her perspective on life and our parenting skills.
I haven't updated the books side in a while. I've read a lot of great books, and a lot of trash--love my romance novels, I do. But I'm a lazy wench, and editing code takes more time than I have.
But this time, I've added a few well worth reading. Take the time and read them, then let me know what you think.
13 March 2006
Hello, tormado season
Long night . . . tormado warnings and tormados (stealing my son's pronunciation) from 8 p.m. to 1 a.m. last night. Two separate hits, one south of us by a bit, another north of us by a bit.
We're fine. We even missed the softball-sized hail, which hit a mile down the street. We only had marble-sized. Shooter marble-sized, but still.
Kids are still freaked. Husband and I have had three and four hours of sleep respectively. Check out our local paper for photos.
Night all. I'm crashing now that the tormados are gone. Just think, this will only run until September. Being a parent and reassuring scared kids when you are slightly wigging yourself is just no fun.
Sigh.
We're fine. We even missed the softball-sized hail, which hit a mile down the street. We only had marble-sized. Shooter marble-sized, but still.
Kids are still freaked. Husband and I have had three and four hours of sleep respectively. Check out our local paper for photos.
Night all. I'm crashing now that the tormados are gone. Just think, this will only run until September. Being a parent and reassuring scared kids when you are slightly wigging yourself is just no fun.
Sigh.
03 March 2006
Feh
Illness has felled us again. Like many of my blogging compatriots, the evil viruses have us down. I've burned more sick days this year covering ill kids than I want to think about.
Nor do I want to think about the amount of money in copays and medicine we've burned through since Christmas.
My CT is acting up again, so I'm in the brace for another month and the anti-inflammatories for another month. I'm going to be scarce.
To tide you over:
* Why is it that daycares are petri dishes for every bug out there?
* Why is it that my college roommate has to choose between her incredibly awesome job at a major publisher and her newborn? Why can't a valued near-vice president get cut some slack for a couple of years, maybe at 60%? Instead, they are going to train four people to replace her. How insane is that?
* Why is it that I constantly feel behind the eight ball at home and especially at work? I'm always forgetting something. Why?
* Why is it 18-month-olds have to learn how to do a high-pitched shriek just short of the range that only dogs could hear?
* Why is it 18-month-olds must try to kill themselves climbing on furniture/stairs/stacked beanbags/gates/cribs?
* Why is it that the puberty mood swings seem to hit earlier and earlier? My friends with nine-year-olds and I are watching this and wondering what the heck 15 will look like at this rate.
* Why is it my nearly four-year-old shows no interest in writing, but can tell me every minutia of SpongeBob for the last three seasons?
* Why can't I get a good night's sleep lately?
Discuss amongst yourselves. I'll be back when it doesn't hurt like blazes to type. And the kids are healthy.
Nor do I want to think about the amount of money in copays and medicine we've burned through since Christmas.
My CT is acting up again, so I'm in the brace for another month and the anti-inflammatories for another month. I'm going to be scarce.
To tide you over:
* Why is it that daycares are petri dishes for every bug out there?
* Why is it that my college roommate has to choose between her incredibly awesome job at a major publisher and her newborn? Why can't a valued near-vice president get cut some slack for a couple of years, maybe at 60%? Instead, they are going to train four people to replace her. How insane is that?
* Why is it that I constantly feel behind the eight ball at home and especially at work? I'm always forgetting something. Why?
* Why is it 18-month-olds have to learn how to do a high-pitched shriek just short of the range that only dogs could hear?
* Why is it 18-month-olds must try to kill themselves climbing on furniture/stairs/stacked beanbags/gates/cribs?
* Why is it that the puberty mood swings seem to hit earlier and earlier? My friends with nine-year-olds and I are watching this and wondering what the heck 15 will look like at this rate.
* Why is it my nearly four-year-old shows no interest in writing, but can tell me every minutia of SpongeBob for the last three seasons?
* Why can't I get a good night's sleep lately?
Discuss amongst yourselves. I'll be back when it doesn't hurt like blazes to type. And the kids are healthy.
24 February 2006
My love, my life
The days in and out of marriage, you can take each other for granted. I know I sometimes am horribly guilty of it.
You go days without a kiss. You get bogged down in the minutia of life and forget about the other person in your life. Or you are ships passing in the night (or days), chasing after kids and work and whatnot.
And then something smacks you upside the head.
This morning, it was a StoryCorps report on NPR for me.
It was a report about Danny and Annie Perasa, a couple from Brooklyn who first recorded the story of their proposal, acceptance and love two years ago in a StoryCorps booth.
Today was an update. He has terminal brain cancer, but he wanted to tell his story, his love for his wife, one last time.
It had me and my eldest in sobbing tears as I was driving her to school.
Love the ones you love, and let them know it, every day, just like Danny Perasa.
You go days without a kiss. You get bogged down in the minutia of life and forget about the other person in your life. Or you are ships passing in the night (or days), chasing after kids and work and whatnot.
And then something smacks you upside the head.
This morning, it was a StoryCorps report on NPR for me.
It was a report about Danny and Annie Perasa, a couple from Brooklyn who first recorded the story of their proposal, acceptance and love two years ago in a StoryCorps booth.
Today was an update. He has terminal brain cancer, but he wanted to tell his story, his love for his wife, one last time.
It had me and my eldest in sobbing tears as I was driving her to school.
Love the ones you love, and let them know it, every day, just like Danny Perasa.
16 February 2006
Pets. Not worth it.
Ick. We have a floater out in the pond out back.
Dh and I are trying to ignore it. We put goldfish in the pond last spring to cut down on the skeeter population in the backyard. Care has been, um, not the best since winter hit.
My son was obsessed with the floater this morning: "Mom. Mom. MOM....one of the fish is dead. it's floating. i think a squirrel got it. it's floating not squimmming any more. we need to take it out. mom. mom. MOM!"
Wonder if that bloated little sucker has sunk to the bottom yet, or if I'm going to (ew) have to fish it out and take it to the woods tonight. Ick.ick.ick.
I swear, it's dh's turn. I had to clean up the nasty baby bunny ick in des moines after the cat killed it and left it "eeping" on the unfinished basement steps. I can still here that massacre in my head. *shudder*
Dh and I are trying to ignore it. We put goldfish in the pond last spring to cut down on the skeeter population in the backyard. Care has been, um, not the best since winter hit.
My son was obsessed with the floater this morning: "Mom. Mom. MOM....one of the fish is dead. it's floating. i think a squirrel got it. it's floating not squimmming any more. we need to take it out. mom. mom. MOM!"
Wonder if that bloated little sucker has sunk to the bottom yet, or if I'm going to (ew) have to fish it out and take it to the woods tonight. Ick.ick.ick.
I swear, it's dh's turn. I had to clean up the nasty baby bunny ick in des moines after the cat killed it and left it "eeping" on the unfinished basement steps. I can still here that massacre in my head. *shudder*
13 February 2006
Meme from Britain
Foiled! Tagged again, this time from my sil.
I've been lying low, back on anti-inflammatories and brace for carpal tunnel. But this is relatively easy.
Four jobs you've had in your life:
1) A$W carhop/cashier/manager
2) Teaching assistant at journalism school
3) Editor for middle-school textbooks
4) Reporter for newspapers
Four movies you could watch over and over:
1) Pride & Prejudice (A&E/BBC version)
2) When Harry Met Sally
3) Twister
4) Any of the Monty Python ones. Well, maybe not Meaning of Life.
Four places you've lived:
1) St. Joseph, Missouri
2) Westchester County, New York
3) Altoona, Iowa
4) Plainfield, Illinois
Four tv shows you love to watch:
1) Grey's Anatomy
2) Family Guy
3) Anything PBS
4) Boston Legal
Four places you've been on vacation:
1) Grand Cayman
2) Cooperstown, New York
3) Cape Cod
4) The Great North Woods, Minnesota
Four of your favorite foods:
1) Most anything with chocolate
2) Italian dishes. Northern or southern.
3) Meatloaf
4) Chicken, roasted.
4 sites you visit (most days):
1) wonkette.com
2) The New York Times
3) PNM
4) televisionwithoutpity.com
I've been lying low, back on anti-inflammatories and brace for carpal tunnel. But this is relatively easy.
Four jobs you've had in your life:
1) A$W carhop/cashier/manager
2) Teaching assistant at journalism school
3) Editor for middle-school textbooks
4) Reporter for newspapers
Four movies you could watch over and over:
1) Pride & Prejudice (A&E/BBC version)
2) When Harry Met Sally
3) Twister
4) Any of the Monty Python ones. Well, maybe not Meaning of Life.
Four places you've lived:
1) St. Joseph, Missouri
2) Westchester County, New York
3) Altoona, Iowa
4) Plainfield, Illinois
Four tv shows you love to watch:
1) Grey's Anatomy
2) Family Guy
3) Anything PBS
4) Boston Legal
Four places you've been on vacation:
1) Grand Cayman
2) Cooperstown, New York
3) Cape Cod
4) The Great North Woods, Minnesota
Four of your favorite foods:
1) Most anything with chocolate
2) Italian dishes. Northern or southern.
3) Meatloaf
4) Chicken, roasted.
4 sites you visit (most days):
1) wonkette.com
2) The New York Times
3) PNM
4) televisionwithoutpity.com
07 February 2006
Some things aren't meant for kids
Especially real shortbread cookies from Scotland.
Thanks B. & A.
Super-yummy. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Thanks B. & A.
Super-yummy. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
31 January 2006
Meme
To get back into the blogging swing, I'm shamelessly stealing from Ms. Gina.
Ten Things You Might Not Know About Me
1. I grew up on a farm. Two, actually, because I had the run of my mother's parents' farm as well. And I liked it.
(That last part's the bigger secret. I complain about it alot, but I did enjoy it as a kid, for the most part.)
2. I was a speech and debate geek in high school. Extemp. I competed against John Ashcroft Jr. and 11 others at state. As I had laryngitis that day, it wasn't much of a competition on my part.
3. My hair was bone-straight and mostly blonde until puberty.
4. I was in College Republicans. No. Really. Stop LAUGHING! Ask Paula R. She joined with me.
5. Three labors: No pain meds.
6. #5 = not by choice. All kids born in under 5 hours from water breaking/first contraction.
7. I had five miscarriages. So, eight pregnancies, only three kids, one with the help of fertility drugs.
8. The little (and last one) = totally not planned. Ooops. But she's cute, so we'll keep her.
9. I obsessively read trashy romances. No, not Harlequin. The good ones, that Mira and similar publishing houses put out. Julia Quinn, Celeste Bradley, Jo Beverly, Stephanie Laurens. Good stuff.
10. I like bluegrass and NASCAR.
Ten Things You Might Not Know About Me
1. I grew up on a farm. Two, actually, because I had the run of my mother's parents' farm as well. And I liked it.
(That last part's the bigger secret. I complain about it alot, but I did enjoy it as a kid, for the most part.)
2. I was a speech and debate geek in high school. Extemp. I competed against John Ashcroft Jr. and 11 others at state. As I had laryngitis that day, it wasn't much of a competition on my part.
3. My hair was bone-straight and mostly blonde until puberty.
4. I was in College Republicans. No. Really. Stop LAUGHING! Ask Paula R. She joined with me.
5. Three labors: No pain meds.
6. #5 = not by choice. All kids born in under 5 hours from water breaking/first contraction.
7. I had five miscarriages. So, eight pregnancies, only three kids, one with the help of fertility drugs.
8. The little (and last one) = totally not planned. Ooops. But she's cute, so we'll keep her.
9. I obsessively read trashy romances. No, not Harlequin. The good ones, that Mira and similar publishing houses put out. Julia Quinn, Celeste Bradley, Jo Beverly, Stephanie Laurens. Good stuff.
10. I like bluegrass and NASCAR.
Technical difficulties
Sorry folks. We've had server troubles and DNS switches.
It's all good now though, so I'm back.
More blogging later, with the latest Meme from Gina.
It's all good now though, so I'm back.
More blogging later, with the latest Meme from Gina.
13 January 2006
Hilarious
Our son, putting his pajamas in the dining room:
"I can't talk now Dad, I'm naked."
This is even funnier, knowing that a mere three minutes before, he'd been bouncing around the dining room, which has windows on three sides, totally nude and shakin' his thang.
"I can't talk now Dad, I'm naked."
This is even funnier, knowing that a mere three minutes before, he'd been bouncing around the dining room, which has windows on three sides, totally nude and shakin' his thang.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)