Director Debbie's Camper Girl RoundUp

Return to Civilization

2011-09-20T05:42:00.004-05:00

No internet. For several days.Yikes.

This, of course, is the man of my dreams. Jack, I think was his name.Opened my laundry room doors, poked around the wall a bit and shook his head."Nope, you're not connected."I kind of knew that, it's why I called him and all.He went straight to work.A few beeps later, the slight rattling of a toolbox and some wires lying around and...the green light came on.Literally. The green DSL light which invites me to throw a scarf around my neck, jump on the 'net and start cruising the web with the wind in my hair again. A return to civilization as I have come to know it.

Honey's, I'm home!!!!

2011-09-12T17:52:00.000-05:00



The Daffodils by William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee: A Poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.

Ten Years Later.

2011-09-11T08:18:00.005-05:00

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
(Abraham Lincoln)

Moving Day

2011-09-09T08:02:00.000-05:00

Moving day. My life in a trailer.

Correction. OUR life. Mr. Binks is a veteran mover and yet he still faces the day with a bit of trepidation expressed as only Mr. Binks can ~ gutteral, truckstop meowing ~ a widdy-biddy little paw reaching out through the carrier bars. He woulda preferred to ride in the back window.

There. Is. No. Food. Here. Who picked this place, anyway??????

Home.

Not quite sweet yet.

But it's home.

Packing.

2011-08-29T18:54:00.000-05:00

Every crew needs a supervisor.

Exhausting.

New in Town

2011-08-26T07:56:00.000-05:00

I love this happy lady dancing against a South Dakota blue sky with unbridled abandon. I too am pleased with the day. With the decision to move. With my new town. My new job. My new home. It's all good. So incredibly good.

I'm a bit wrapped up tight too, it's a great picture of the way I feel when I'm learning so many new things all at once. New town. New job. New faces. Names to remember. Passwords. Processes. Where to buy the best pizza? Who gives a great haircut? Library? Car wash? Is there a Starbucks on my way to work??? Will my cat like his balcony perch in our new apartment???

Is there a food dish within 10 feet? Yeah. He'll like it.

So. How about a quick tour???

You're noticing the metal, right?

That's handcrafted steel work with a magnificent patina ~ we make garden planters and stakes and sculptures and ornaments and picture frames and recipe boards and holiday pieces and....and....and.....

Well. You get the picture.

The store carries the work of countless American artists and also features our own line called Prairie Dance. I love rustic pieces, have always leaned sort of in the direction of the well-worn and shabby look in furniture pieces and art. Can't tell you how much I adore these pieces. Love. Love. Love.

Break my heart, these pieces are the last of a series ~ discontinued. Love these whimsical and delighted garden stake children. I've gotta have one before the last one goes home with a customer. Someone to keep my Binks company while he's ruling the balcony.

The artists create all this amazing work right on site, in a studio in the back of the store.

I understand why customers can't help but peek back there to see what is going on.

I love watching, too!!

Of course there are lots of other beautiful things to see in the store too.

Tons of fabulous handcrafted jewelry made by American artists. I have to say fabulous again.

And again: F A B U L O U S.

Just a peek for now.

More pictures to come.

We have adorable, unique gifts for children too.

New girl in town, you know how it is.....

Very easy to be charmed by the first walrus sock puppet who smiles and says hello.

Check out my new home away from home:

www.sticksandsteel.com

'Tis the Season

2011-08-19T21:07:00.000-05:00

Sugar, flour, some oil and some coconut and a little bit of this and a little bit of that. And pretty soon we'll have bread.

Sweet, sweet and amazing bread.

If I was contemplating becoming a vegetarian, just knowing I could still eat

my favorite homemade zucchini bread would help me decide.

Yum.

Where Did All this Stuff Come From???????????

2011-08-14T19:53:00.000-05:00

Moving day looms. Where on EARTH did all this stuff come from??? I've only lived here 8 years. I must be some kinda pack rat. A garage sale was inevitable. I'm leaving a 2-story, 2BR/2BA townhouse with garage for a 1BR apartment with a little stall in a cozy underground parking garage. Whittling down my worldly goods to a manageable volume that will fit into my new place is akin to tucking the contents of my purse into a pill bottle. Ahhh, but I do love a challenge.

Who can live another day without this fine bag, I ask you??????

Now that it's is all over, time to fill these for the big move.

Two closets emptied. Four more, twelve drawers and 14 cupboards to go. I could so use a Mary Poppins right now.

Lemonade Stand

2011-08-13T10:31:00.000-05:00

Grandma Debbie's garage sale day. The perfect opportunity to sell lemonade.
First we must make a proper sign.

We'll decorate our favorite Winnie-the-Pooh table just-so.

And make sure everyone gets a fancy little cocktail umbrella. This is a classy joint.

Cousin Ava is one of our first customers.

A nice stack of quarters at the end of the day and we're hooked. Several customers suggested Grandma Debbie could pour a little extra something into that cup with it's nice umbrella and make Garage Sale Day lots more fun for them. Probably not. But maybe next year we'll add cookies.

Extinction of the Most Tragic Kind

2011-08-13T10:12:00.000-05:00

I'm worried.
A little bit sad.
More worried than sad.

A nearby town built a brand new high school. The ibrary / media center is magnificent with massive windows providing the most wonderful natural light. What an uplifting, cheerful place for students to study. There are comfortable places to sit. And almost no books.

No books!!!!
The librarian.....do they still call her the librarian????....says it's because "our students do everything online now ~ research, reading ~ they have access to libraries all over the world via the internet."

Cool enough on the international thing. Am I crazy to wish they also had access to shelves and shelves of books with thin pages typeset and numbered behind colorful hard covers with the authors name printed on the spine? No books??????????? NO. BOOKS?????

Are we raising a generation of kids who won't understand or appreciate the feel of a book in their hands? Does it matter? Am I just old? Do I sound like my Grandpa who thought the world was going to hell in a handbasket because girls were wearing blue jeans???

Encouraging is two years of renovation finally coming to a conclusion and the shelves and shelves of books I find lined up at the Franklin Avenue Library where I used to retreat after school when I was a little kid. My mom worked and the house was empty when I came home after school. Rather than be alone I spent countless after-school hours at that library.

My best friend Joanna and I would pile our homework and raincoats and various paraphernalia of the 5-th grade variety on round library tables and retreat into the aisles to pull books from the shelves. We loved big volumes full of panels by our favorite cartoonists, books about pets and animals and adventure stories about brave young girls solving mysteries and saving the day. Occasionally we would hide "Talking to Your Teenager About Reproduction" inside the cover of a giant encycopedia and sit huddled up and wide-eyed at the illustrations and information we didn't quite understand but thought was pretty darn interesting reading.

Books are my dear friends. It's hard for me to get excited the same way about snuggling up with any of the electronic books. I think they are wayyyy cool for sure, but they're kind of like having to invite a third party to join in my afternoons. Selfish, I know ~ but my afternoon's with a favorite book are just about the two of us. Me and the book. Don't ask me to break off a lifetime affair of turning my favorite pages.

Can't do it. Don't want to do it. Won't do it. I think there is room for all of us. Enjoy the books on your little screen-thing. And leave me to enjoy turning the pages of mine.

Dear Mom....

2011-08-07T11:08:00.000-05:00

Dear Mom, I know you worry about me but I had to move out sometime. I loved growing up in a small town but living in the big city is great, I love it here, too. I found a great apartment. The rent is really cheap. As soon as I get settled in I would like to have you and Dad drive down so you can see the place.

Could you maybe bring a ladder.

The Scene of the Crime

2011-08-05T16:11:00.000-05:00

I was so proud of the gorgeous red lilies on my patio.

Brave against the heat, they were spectacular each morning when I went outside to water. I'm not sure they needed any help from me. They had minds of their own. But I really liked spending time spraying them with water, convincing myself I had some small thing to do with their beauty. So, sooo pretty.

Until this morning.

I pulled out the hose, squeezed the nozzle to bathe all my green and growing buddies.

But...something is wrong. Something doesn't look quite right here........

No tall lilies. No brilliant red flowers. Just big holes.

Big, big, big holes in the dirt.

And carnage on the concrete.
Yup. While I wasn't looking the little rat-bastard chipmunks for whom I purchase ears of corn and bags of sunflower seeds thanked me by selecting my lily bulbs for dessert.

Shredded leaves everywhere.

Not a trace of a bulb to be found. I sort of envisioned the little guys licking the plate when they finally got down to that last, delicious bite. Mmmm. Mmmmmmmmmm.

All the while Binks my brave and intimidating watch-cat.....

Watched.

Patience and Happy Thoughts

2011-08-04T20:16:00.001-05:00

Such a lovely way to soothe the ruffled feathers of a wheel-gripping soul jittering their way through the drive-up, clinging to the promise of a caffeine jolt. Make that two shots, please. And if you don't mind, make it snappy.

Bringing a Little Bit of the Outdoors Inside

2011-08-02T21:18:00.000-05:00

Princess Janie asked me to come over with my paint buckets. She wanted to brighten up her front door. She has a fabulous little front yard, all green and yummy with this-and-that plants vining all over the place beneath the fat and jagged leaves of a magnficent maple tree. Why not bring a little bit of that flavor inside to remind her of the green and lovely outdoors this winter when she's staring out at bare branches and snow drifts??

We always set sail with a pencil because yes, Sharpies really, truly are permanent.

That's about right for a start.

She primed the door first so it was ready to take the acrylic paint.

With a nod to her Eastern Iowa farm childhood we couldn't call it a completed work of

art until we added some fields and a few content cows wandering around in the pasture.

Our rendition of the Purple Cone Flower, another Midwest favorite.

Tahhh-dahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

With a few special details added for the neighbors, she'll tidy up a bit with some

leftover primer, seal it up with a nice UV-protective poly and she's finished.

Thanks Princess Janie, that was great fun!!!!!!!!!

Someone Likes this Heat

2011-08-02T19:21:00.000-05:00

On a quick tiptoe through my tiny patio garden it's pretty clear ~ even as we're sitting inside rolling a bottle of cold water across our chest while sweat drips stripes down our birthday suit, the green-and-leafy side of the family are outside loving the heat and humidity.

We're definitely cruising the 'net in search of interesting pepper recipes.

A few nibbled leaves betray nasty little bugs keeping a low profile while I snap photos in hopes I'll not notice and leave them to their dining ~ neveryoumind fellers, you are perfectly safe. I'm pretty much a lazy gardener. I love to plant. Notsomuch liking the weeding and fussing. You'll get water in the mornings and a quick dead-heading when I'm thinking about my Grandma and all her best advice but 'tater vines, you guys are pretty much on your own.

So There We Were in the Cornfield.....

2011-08-01T20:10:00.004-05:00

So my cousin Rhonda and I herded the boys into the van, filled the coolers up with ice and headed down the road to provide hydration, nourishment and roadside reparte for passing bikers pedaling their way across our beautiful home state of Iowa.

Inventory. Bandanas, coozies and the all-important accessory for bikers who find themselves heading to a cornfield for roadside relief: toilet paper.

You'll note one of the boys is a bit of a party animal, beaded up and ready to roll.

He's also our main man on the grill. Dogs, anyone?????

Hotels? For these hard-core camper girls??? Are you kidding??? Rhonda's little single-person tent pops up easy as pie but we left the rain-cover off so she wouldn't melt in the July heat. Even after dark it was soooooo dang hot and humid. I crashed on a mattress in the back of the van, propped the doors open and watched bats flying around catching mosquitos in the glow of an overhead security light in the park. Would they nest in my hair? Or just keep eating bugs?? I pondered that question until the winds picked up and the lightning show started. That's when we got up and rigged Rhonda's tent with tarps and clothespins so she wouldn't drown in the anticipated deluge. Looks kinda like an alien space pod, doesn't it??

So the next morning we set up alongside the road by 7 AM and the bikes started to trickle in.
By 9 AM it was a steady stream until late afternoon. I'll let the pictures tell the story.

The boys are in charge of inventory.

Sustenance for the Gatorade Girls: homemade iced coffee, skillfully mixed road-side using Hazelnut syrup and.....yes, we'll admit it....Half and Half.

Late in the afternoon, the parade has thinned down quite a bit.

My favorite biker.

My daughter Sara who's crossing the state on RAGBRAI for the 14th time.

Yup. Lance passed. Sort of in the way a squadron of fighter jets in formation pass. Fast enough to send a breeze through your hair while you stand there wondering, "What was that...........??????" He and his Livestrong team members actually stop and visit along the way, enjoying the countryside and small town folks who come out to say hello to all the riders. Other than a few promos for Livestrong to promote cancer awareness along the way he's pretty low key, just another one of the bikers enjoying the scenery. No one hardly even notices him.

These guys on the other hand........

Can you say, "In real life I'm a sales manager for First National Bank but one week out of the year my wife let's me come to Iowa, dress up as a Holstein and act silly with my buddies!" ?? Love, love, love the teams with all their crazy bike shirts and hats. We send them home to their families sunburned, legs cramping....with big ol' smiles on their faces.

Long day. Hot day. CRAZY day!

We didn't pedal a single mile but we sold through about 500 bottle of water and Gatorade, stacks of bandanas and went home feeling like we'd been run over by 10,000 bicycles.

And that folks, is my kinda fun.
Now I need a long nap.

Bike Ride Across Iowa / RAGBRAI 2011

2011-07-23T12:03:00.002-05:00

The Register's Annual Bike Ride Across Iowa. RAGBRAI. While thousands of bikers pedal their way across our beautiful state in the heat of the July summer, my flamingo buddies and I will be camped on the side of the road ready to sell them Gatorade and water to keep them alive until they reach the overnight town and the comfort of their tent.

We're excited! Cousin Rhonda is joining us this year. She's always up for an adventure and she's bringing her own pink, feathered buddy to join the crew. She'll navigate while we cruise the back highways looking for the perfect spot ~ a little shade, some nice, tall fields to serve as route-side "comfort stations" and ~ of course ~ a flat place for our lawnchairs and my living room rug.

Looking forward to seeing lots of buddies from last year. (Dave ~ can't imagine any of them will be as bad-ass as you!!) Complimentary shots for our favorite baggers? Why yes, now that you ask!!! Need some aloe-vera on those sunburned shoulders, Lance??? No problem. Bring that yellow streak to a screeching halt out by the cornfield and we'll take care of you.

Cannondale to Huffy and everything in between....Bring on the bikes!!!!

A Message from God

2011-07-03T14:29:00.003-05:00

Sometimes a bush spontaneously burns or a Red Sea parts. It might rain frogs. Locusts might infest. Other times a front door opens and a naked man in a towel steps out on the porch to get the mail.

Minding our own business, we were, and just randomly watching traffic fly by on a hot summers day. A mailman wandered into cinematic view framed by our coffeeshop window, stuffing a hand full of letters into the wall-mount box next to the front door of the house across from where we sat, sipping iced mochas and chatting about life in general. It's about 150 degrees out if it's 90. Hot. Awful dang hot. The screen door to the house is propped open with a couple of big bricks. Must be hot in there.

When, what to our wondering eyes should appear but a naked man wrapped in a towel, a bit to small to cover his rear. The small-bit, of course ~ an assumption ~ as he is taking great care not to turn his back to the viewing audience (of whom I am pretty sure he was oblivious) but judging by the way he's holding it and tugging on the edges ~ yeah, mental note he says to himself: next trip to Target buy a bigger towel. And yet, there he be. It's a blistering summers afternoon, his mail has just been delivered into a box which is situated on the wall of the house in such a way as to be blocked by the screen door. To access the box he must close the screen door. To close the screen door, he must move the bricks propping it open. To move the bricks he must bend over and......ohhhhh wait, wait.....nope. Not bending over. Not in a towel. Instead, as we continue to sip icy mocha's and take bets on how long that towel is going to last, he begins to finesse his way around the porch with a shuffle befitting Fred Astaire. Or one of those Mexican dancers who can tie a bow in a long scarf with their feet while in the middle of a hot flamenco. Barefoot though he may be, he is determined to displace the bricks, there by freeing the door, with his feet and thus, never having to bend over.

It's a tricky dance. The bricks are heavy. The porch is small. So, by the way in case you've already forgotten ~ so is the towel. Push, shuffle, nudge, nudge and nudge some more. After about five minutes of a complicated front-porch waltz our naked and toweled dancer squeezes past the screen door he's convinced to half-way close and reaches for the mail in the box. We gasp! This leaves only one hand on the towel. We hold our breath. We cover our eyes. (Sort of) We grimace and whine and JUST when we think it's all over for the towel....he's in!!! Inside the house. He's made it!!!! We exhale and cheer. All he needs to do now is reach out and pull the door closed.

Who is to blame? The bearer of surprising tidings who may have sent the letter that so caught him off guard that he let go of the towel? Can they really be blamed? I mean, how many people go out on the front porch to retrive the mail naked?

One, that I know of anyway. And for whatever reason, he forgot about the towel and all of a sudden, JUST as we were breathing our great sighs of relief, it's DOWN.... it drops to the floor...........he's NAKED.....naked as a neighbor on a hot summer's porch.....and we're shrieking.

OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHHHHHMYYYYGOD!!!!!!!!! Everyone in the shop runs to the window. "What!!?? What????!!!!!"

All we can do is point.
And then, as if to provide a memorable finale to eclipse his porch performance, naked guy turns his back to the crowd and bends over to pick up the towel from the floor, presenting the entire viewing audience with a magnificent, if albeit lily white and just a wee bit droopy ~ presentation of the full-moon.

I've snorted icy mocha through my nose before. But not often. Talk about brain freeze. Ouch! I understand clearly, this is a sign from God I'm supposed to switch to bottled water. It's safer, less calories and much easier on the eyes.

You're Gonna Say, She's All That You Adore...

2011-03-05T13:42:00.000-06:00

I'm watching Gidget re-runs. She just told her Dad she wants to go out on a date with Muzzy the Masochist, a member of The Tarantula's, "another gang at school, Dad" because none of the boys she knows are paying attention to her. I'd forgotten about turquoise appliances. And malt shops. And man ohhh man I sure would love to have a pink princess phone again.

And now, winter.

2011-01-14T19:37:00.000-06:00

My Binksy came home. (thank you, awesome wonderful neighbors)
I started a new job that has me out on the road, all over the state.
Thanksgiving was nice. Christmas was fun especially because my granddaughter was here and we had lots of snow. The Christmas cards are still taped to the back side of my front door, always the very last thing I take down and put away after the holiday. Went out on New Years Eve instead of hitting the pillow at 9 and calling it a year. (Thanks Rod and Sher and all the bands ~ that was fun.)

2011.
I'm liking it so far.

Please Come Home

2010-09-02T21:01:00.000-05:00

My best buddy disappeared one week ago today. He went walkabout and never came home. We've posted flyers, run ads, offered a reward, chased reported "sightings" and left open cans of tuna all over the patio wishing he'd sniff his way home. We're visiting the shelters every couple of days and hoping God doesn't mind if we pray about a big, fat, black cat because yeah........we definitely understand the world is full of bigger problems than this...........but we miss him real bad.

Binksy, buddy. Please come home.

Recipe to Cure the Hottest Summer Day

2010-09-01T17:43:00.000-05:00

One first grader, a bunch of cool water and of course, a crown.

Perfect!!!

Love it When a Project is Finished

2010-08-17T14:19:00.000-05:00

Love wrapping a project with the finishing touches, tearing down the drop-cloths and tapping lids back on the cans of paint. This is little Aidan's pretty, pink room when we started.......

Taping and prep work ~ not my favorite parts of any job. I push my way through those important steps quick as I can so I can get to the fun part: sloshing around beautiful colors on a big, flat wall.

Blocking in the space, looking for homes for all of the images I want to be sure and include.

And this is her finished room. Her mom tells me Aidan talks to all the new friends on her walls in the morning when she wakes up.

Thanks, Nick and Ashley for letting me have so much fun!!

Summer's Roadside Gifts

2010-08-12T20:19:00.000-05:00

Our city is a patchwork of random makeshift stands offering the gifts from this year's bountiful harvest of home-grown veggies. Living in farm country and so near the fields myself, I have my favorite little stand. Situated right next to the road just a short hop from my neighborhood the corn is sweet and creamy as can be, picked fresh right off the stalks each morning. Exquisite with a little bit of butter..............ok, with a whole LOT of melty butter.......and a bit of salt.


It's a serve-yourself stand, just tuck your money into the rusted toolbox, pick a sack from beneath the stand if you didn't bring your own and pick your own goodies for dinner.

A little trivia to test bump up your corn smarts......

There are always an even number of rows on an ear of corn.

There are usually 16 rows.

Ears of corn usually have 800 kernels.

If you're not from farm country, you might not know the corn you pass mile after mile after mile as you drive through the countryside is not the corn you buy and eat. Most of it is field corn for use as livestock feed. If you boiled up an ear it wouldn't taste nearly as sweet and tasty.

Soooo....what liquor is made from corn???

Bourbon! Nearly all of it made in Kentucky, bourbon has to be made from 51% corn mash.

MOST IMPORTANT....

Sweet corn will lose 40% of its sugar 6 hours after picking.

Buy fresh! Eat it right away for the sweeeeetest taste.

Later it will still be good but that sugar turns to starch.

If you really want to impress someone, ask them the three types of corn. Y'know....like if it's a really boring evening and you're sitting on the porch in your rocker and the lightning bugs haven't come out yet.....seriously, this will be impressive conversation.

The three types of corn:

Flint corn

This is what people usually call "Indian corn" ~ the corn that you usually see in the fall with kernels that are all sorts of different colors.)

Dent corn

This field corn. It pretty much gets ground up for use as livestock feed. More than 50% of the corn grown in the USA is used for feed.

Sweet corn

Don't need to tell ya 'bout this one now, do I??

Slap on a little butter and smile.

"But Deb!!! You forgot one!" you are shouting at me from the porch rocker. "What about POPCORN!!!!"

Technically, popcorn is actually a type of Flint corn.

And you knew the reason it explodes is because it's got moisture inside it, right?

Yeah, I thought you did.

GATORADE GIRLS 2010

2010-08-08T16:13:00.005-05:00

The creeping party that pedals it's way across the State of Iowa every July is called RAGBRAI, an acronym that's taken on a life of it's own and has attracted bikers young and old to the beautiful roadsides of our agricultural state for 38 years.

An estimated 10-15,000 riders move across the state from West to East during the week-long event, camping in small towns along the way and dining on sumptuous event favorites like pork chops on a stick, fresh corn on the cob and just-like-your-grandma-made chicken and noodle dinners at the local Methodist churches.

This year my friend Jill and I, fresh from nearly two years of study to earn our graduate degrees in May, decided to hit the road with a pop-up tent and a van full of Gatorade and cool stuff we thought bikers might like to buy. We sweat buckets in the July heat, sold bandana's and beer koozies and we kept our share of the pedaling buddies hydrated with ice cold Gatorade and the occasional motivating mixed shot of Cherry/Vanilla UV.

I could tell ya all about it, but it's easier to just look at the pics, in no special order ~ just a week of (sweaty) fun!

Arrived Alive at Fifty-Five

2010-08-08T14:38:00.007-05:00

Here I am, still breathing and closer to a hundred years old than newborn. Yikes, in printed font I sound like a dinosaur....

Don't much care, gotta tell ya I am loving the "fifties". Yup, this year I'm fifty-five and can't remember a year I've had more fun. It just keeps getting better. So Happy Birthday to me and Happy Birthday to you, too ~ whenever it is ~ remember every day is a clean slate full of awesome possibilities. Some days will wiggle along in a fairly ordinary manner, others will explode on the screen of our life's radar like holiday fireworks. Enjoy them all!!!

I have a feeling this is going to be the BEST year ever.........

Sara's Birthday

2010-05-30T10:17:00.002-05:00

Lots of catching up to do. But first, just a nice little pause for a moment with my Sara who just celebrated her birthday.

Happy birthday, little one.
Love you so.

Vestiges of Easter

2010-04-04T18:08:00.004-05:00

What to do, what to do, WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE DELIGHTFULLY SOFT AND SQUISHY LEFTOVER PEEPS????

Yes, peeps make wonderful accessories for the fashion-conscious lady.

If shoulder pads ever come back and we have to pump up the shoulders of all our jackets, we've got the answer right there lingering in the box of last years Easter goodies.

How 'bout treating yourself to a post-holiday peepicure? Pedipeep??

Of course their soft and slightly gritty sugary coating means your
peep is the ultimate in luxurious face scrubbie.

Did someone say LEFTOVERS?
The ultimate epicurious partnership...
the classic Leftover Easter Ham and Peep sandwich.

Think green!
The bunnies will keep!
Chicks too!
Recycle your peep!

2010-04-03T22:03:00.002-06:00

The most important thing to remember if you were going to Easter morning service at the Evangelical United Brethren Church on old Highway 17 was not to drink too much orange juice with breakfast because the preacher talked a long, long time before we got around to singing “He Lives” and going home and the bathroom was a 2-seater outhouse in the churchyard, down the front stairs, past the stained glass windows and next to the cemetery where your great Grandpa and Grandma were buried. Honeysuckle vines grew up the side of the outhouse in the summer and bees nested in the rafters right above the door. In the spring you were pretty much safe; it was too chilly, the bees weren’t buzzing yet. But you knew they were there from last year’s Bible school when Miss Carlson your Sunday School teacher warned all the children to “be real careful, just open and close the door slow, they’re not so much concerned about you as long as they know you’re just there to take care of business and not bother them.” Sunday school boys told us girls snakes lived in the floor of the outhouse and surely they probably did because every now and then one of them would sneak into the church basement and make all of us scream during a pot luck supper. I personally myself had seen a spider crawling up the back wall of the outhouse on more than one occasion. Clearly, for reasons beyond the obvious issue of fragrance and lack of toilet paper, it was a place you didn’t want to visit often and when you did, you wanted to make it a quick and stealthy slip in and out, unnoticed by anything that buzzed, slithered or crawled. I hear they have plumbing in the building now which is nice, especially for little kids who hate spiders and garter snakes, but I can’t imagine Easter is nearly as exciting.

Time passes, things change. One of my second-cousins once-removed or some such familial linkage my grandmother explained, left that little church a nice pile of money a while back. It was a small fortune he had accumulated over a lifetime of hard work and farming. The spruced the old church up a bit; enclosed the old concrete steps with a entrance, refurbished the massive stained glass windows and I'm sure the inside of the place got some long and well-deserved TLC, in part as a result of his generosity, but also because simple farm and small-town folks loved the place over generations and just refused to let it die. I keep telling myself I've got to get back there for a visit one of these days if only for the sake of "remember when".

My parents were married in that little church, the home church of my family for many many years. I stood on the small platform with my Sunday school class, back to the audience and refused to sing during the annual Vacation Bible School program because my 6-year old self was mad I had to leave my brand new swing set, dress up and go to church to perform on a perfectly lovely summer day. I learned to make fancy little folded creations out of my grandmother's lace hankies in the rickety old wood pews, her way of entertaining me during long sermons she knew were slightly tedious to a little kid. Over the years I remember the same people sitting in the same pews every Sunday, like they staked their claim when the place was built and everyone just understood the system. The offering plates were wood and posted on the back wall, every Sunday, was Last Sundays Attendance (usually around 30 people or so...) and Last Sundays Offering (why I remember seeing $23.15 posted there, I can't tell you but I do, clear as if it were yesterday.)

Outside the door and a short walk across the grass is the church cemetery. Lots of familiar names there. And just down a few rows.....the legendary spot little kids used to approach with caution, wanting badly to believe that if you are very quiet and make it clear you're just opening the door to take care of business and not disturb them, the bees will leave you alone.

'Tis the Season

2010-03-31T18:25:00.002-06:00

For a visit from the Easter Chicken!!!

This morning when I arrived at work I found this sweet little box of soft, pastelly eggs waiting for me on my desk. A "cube neighbor" had arrived just before me and I was sure she'd brought the gift.

"Courtney! Do you have chickens in your yard??"

She looked at me like I was a little wacko.
Ok. It wasn't Courtney...........but she reminded me Amy and her kids have chickens.
Of course!!! Amy confirmed it, fresh little Easter eggs straight from her hen house and aren't they just the CUTEST things you've ever seen!!!!

Thanks Amy!!!!

Almost done..........

2010-03-27T19:38:00.002-06:00

Graduating on May 8, Mama's crawlin' out from under her rock....

..and coming out of her shell!!

2010-03-20T13:19:00.003-06:00

Today's the day I took my final stand against winter. I took down the Christmas cards from the back of my front door. It snowed last night, it's melted off the driveway and walks already; it's warm. The first official day of spring is upon us after a long, harsh winter.

I'm not complaining. I love the snow, whether it's raging against my windshield carried by a strong wind or, like in this little video clip I made standing next to the woods a month or so ago, falling soft and silent.

Bring on the tulips.

Fun Weekend

2010-03-19T19:54:00.003-06:00

Fun to break up this long winter with a weekend visit to the coast.
Saw the ocean as I flew in but that really wasn't the point of the visit.
My granddaughter just turned six and I flew out to give her some hugs!

Favorite project of the weekend: throwing around some flour in Mom's kitchen!

Thanks Mom, for being so cool about the big mess!!!

Sneaking a few licks and tastes along the way.........

And hanging out playing Barbie cut-outs all afternoon when we were done.
"Grandma, 'tend you were the girl in the blue dress and 'tend I was the one in the pink and you said I looked pretty and you wanted to go to the mall."

These days paper dolls are magnetic dolls and we 'tended off and on all weekend....going to the mall, wearing princess outfits, talking about getting our hair done and going to the beach . Her Barbies have a 3-story dream house. With an elevator. Prettttttty cool.

We played with all her toys.
She has a couple of those battery-powered hamster things that everyone was nuts about at Christmas. They were kind of neat.

But nothing is neater than just hanging out with my favorite 6-year old in the whole world, chatting about life in general and making memories.

Winter Keeps Stringing us Along....

2010-02-21T14:03:00.004-06:00

My friend Janell and I decided we needed to find a way to while away the lingering winter hours, as long as it appears winter is going to last....well....forever.
We ain't bucklin' to no weather blues, not on your life. We decided we needed a project and we both wanted to learn to knit.

We spent Saturday with a lovely group of knitting enthusiasts. Their promise (and challenge) was to send us home with a knitted washcloth created by our own hands.
Sounds easy enough, doesn't it??? Ohhhhhhh you non-knitters, trust me, this is no easy task. You can lead a girl to needles and a ball of yarn but it doesn't mean she'll spontaneously know how to knit. Ohhhh man, I am here to tell you it's not as easy as it looks.

The fun part is buying needles and choosing yarn. The colors inspired us with all kinds of ideas for knitted projects. Visions of sweaters and caps and blankets danced in our heads.

Now we learn.
Not bad for a beginner, although it's a bit of a twisted start.

All the while eyeing a finished project,
knowing by the end of the day we should be looking at something
sort of like this. It's a knitted washcloth.

Pretty colors, Deb......but the skilled knitter can tell you something isn't quite right here.

I don't care. It's pretty and I made it.

I shall call it "BOOKMARK".

Janell, a much younger student than myself and infinitely clearer of mind,
picks up on the stitches very quickly. Clearly she is going to be a knitting prodigy with blue-ribbon sweaters hanging at the State Fair later this summer.

See what I mean? Her knitting is uniform and lovely.
Even her little book-marky thing is straight and sensible.

Like a perfectly appointed half-a-doily that will sit beneath a fine and beautiful plant.

Despite an absence of natural knitting ability I intend to persevere and will be practicing on this washcloth/coaster as long as it takes. Straighter lines and looser knit is my goal.

I shall call it "Barbie Blanket" so someday my little granddaughter can say to her little girl, "Oh, that's really old. Your Grandma Debbie made that for me when I was your age." At the rate I am presently knitting, I best get busy or I'll be giving it to her for her high school graduation.

Snow Courtesy: Knowing the Local Rules

2010-02-15T20:39:00.011-06:00

I got in enough trouble driving the streets of Philadelphia in past years, I don't even try anymore. After spending a fortune on parking violation fines, it's cheaper to just take cabs around the city.

The City of Brotherly Love had about 2 feet of snow on the ground last week when I was scheduled to fly in. The snow and high winds delayed our flights a bit but the runways and tarmac were nice and clean by the time we touched down. Notsomuch Center City where the old walk-ups and commerical buildings are tucked into the city blocks like crayons into a 16-pack crayola box ~ it's a tight fit with bumper to bumper on-street parking in the neighorhoods and no where to push all that snow. When the ploughs come down car-lined streets to clear them they pile snow up against the cars which are already buried, creating a icy mountain range that line the sidewalks.

To say it would take hours to dig out one car from the range after that big of a storm is no exagerration. It takes hours and hours of back-breaking shoveling. Shoveling is hard work in my part of the country too but we've got lots of space for the piles of snow. So it was interesting to learn about a local courtesy that is recognized in Philadelphia, one that is important enough that the mayor was on the 11PM news Friday night, reminding everyone while it's not law..............

IF you spend hours digging your car out from the snow where you park on the street in the neighborhood where you live, the space you cleared belongs to you. When you are finished shoveling you pull your car into the street, grab whatever is handy and place it in the cleared parking spot to save it. I saw kitchen chairs, a ladder and a lawn chair "holding" parking spaces this weekend.

Due to the record-breaking amount of snow they're receiving in Philly and the level of frustration that is building in folks as they deal with it, the mayor wanted to remind everyone to play nice. It's not a law, but it's a commonly recognized and honored courtesy the city expects residents to respect: you if shovel a space, it's yours. (I'd add....if your neighbor shovels out your space, you owe him a pan of lasagne per month for life or carnal favors on demand, whichever he prefers. Remember, that's over 2 feet of snow, folks. A plate of cookies isn't gonna cut it this time.)

Good system. I like it.
When I flew out on Thursday of last week, I forgot to put my ice scraper and broom back in the trunk of my car when I loaded up my suitcases. After 5 days of snow and ice on the top level of the airport parking ramp this past week, I had to dig out my car with an empty cassette tape box, a rolled-up Lands End catalog and a frozen bottle of my favorite Berry-flavored Propel. I surely coulda used a good neighbor with a broom this morning.

Full Moon Tonight

2010-01-29T19:27:00.003-06:00

Wolf moon, it's called. First full moon of the year. Bright and pretty. And man ohhh man is it cold out there. Brrrrrr.

Hammy Delivers

2010-01-28T17:15:00.002-06:00

Never much liked cartoons when I was a kid but mornings when Betty Lou would tell Katrina to open the curtains, shut off the lights and say a "tahh-dahhhh"..........well, I loved those trips to the riverbank.

2010-01-27T21:11:00.006-06:00

Before you: perfect box-lunch dessert. You can unwrap your Twinkie and freeze it, deep-fry it, slice it, smash it or just stuff the whole thing in your mouth at once. It is golden-caked perfection with a ooey-gooey creamy filling. Nummers!!!!!!

More than just the perfect packaged lunch-box dessert, the spongy cream-filled Twinkie is versatile, too! It's a mass-produced pastry of great historical stature with many important credits to it's name..............

Knocking Tyson on his butt in the 2nd round.
(What???!!! You missed that on the sports page????)

TwinkieHenge, a popular tourist attraction and ancient pagan burial ground where many-a-Gumby was sacrificed to the Claymation gods.

Gaining in popularity, the Twinkie baby bag which provides a nice, warm snuggly place for the wee ones to rest....not to mention a really groovy experience for their widdy biddy toes in all that creamy filling in there.

So you might think there couldn't possibly be another use for a Twinkie, might'nt you?? You would be wrong. Behold, yet another practical application for the gold and spongy, cream-filled Twinkie.....today I opened my mailbox to find a cardboard box, shipped from the East as a belated holiday wish. The box was pretty much smashed. When I cut past the layers of packing tape, here is what I found inside........

Cute, huh? Little chocolate snowmen marched straight out of the box to melt in my mouth and remind me why I love the holidays. And a big stack of Twinkies all taped together. Taped to the top and sides of the Twinkie bundle were Little Debbie cut-outs, clipped from a pastry box......get it, I'm Debbie......they say Little Debbie........I don't have freckles but you get the ideer......anyway, I thought now how FUN is this!!! Chocolate and Twinkies, what a fun gift!!!

So I picked up the bundle of Twinkies and yknow what????

The Twinkies were actually PACKING. That's why they were all taped together. When I picked up the little bundle, I realized they were packed around a neat little gift box wrapped up inside them. The Twinkies were pretty much smashed...........but the little gift box was safe and sound, arriving without so much as a scratch. And inside??

These awesomely cool, artsy, hugging salt and pepper shakers. Hugging........get it? My very dear friend was sending me a Christmas hug along with my favorite treats.

I feel nice and hugged, that's for sure.
Thanks JB.

The Continuing Assualt

2010-01-23T13:57:00.006-06:00

Winter continues to have her way with us. Can't say that I am complaining, though. I'm really not. The cold air, snow and ice make me feel all homey and snuggly. I cook. I bake. I light the candles, sip a little whatever........this is what four-seasons is all about. I love it.

Ohhhhh, I'll be darn glad to see the sun whenever it decides to shine again. But for now....well, even as I'm teetering along on the sidewalk just trying to make my way into the grocery store for that critical gallon of milk I find the artistry of this winter to be absolutely exquisite. I couldn't get out of my car to photograph the amazing two days of giant frost we enjoyed last week without risking life and limb with all the drifted snow that remains piled everywhere but the ice storm that followed glazed the ordinary objects of my little daily world into a fine gallery of icy art.

Waffle ice, now how cool is that??

Smart birdies having packed off to warmer climes many long months ago......

My favorite drive-thru is frozen solid........

but the Grande Vanilla Hot Chocolate extra-hot is still steamy and perfect.

Favorite Quotes of the Day

2010-01-18T16:44:00.006-06:00

Sshhhhhhh!!!!

I'm 50-some years old, plenty old enough to have learned. Still I have to admit it's devastated me a bit to find out people don't keep confidences. I guess my buddy was right when he suggested I take off my rose-colored glasses and start living in the real world like everyone else. Yeahhh, I guess it's time, huh.

Favorite quote to help me remember next time I get a wild idea to trust someone.....anyone.......with a confidence:

Three can keep a secret if two are dead.

Benjamin Franklin

Love Mongolia

2010-01-17T15:43:00.003-06:00

If you've been around me for any time at all you know I love Mongolia, love reading about the nomadic tribes and their way of life. They have an amazing and ancient kinship with nature and animals. This is one of my favorite videos, a five-minute glimpse into the art of Mongolian falconry.

So cool.

On the Road Again

2010-01-14T15:40:00.006-06:00

To complicate last weeks travel plans I have some kinda weird inner-ear / sinus thing going on. When I roll over in bed my head sort of spins and it feels like my brain is siphoning over into the other half of my head. Decongestants help but for the past couple of weeks I feel just a little wobbly most of the time, like I just got off a merry-go-round, like I might tip over to the left....or right....at any moment when I'm walking around.

In a tippy world where my head is spinning like that sad little Exorcist chickie it further complicates matters when everything around me is...slightly askew. I'll show you what I mean, but first consider this.......I come from a land where everything is pretty much blocked off in nice little squares. The streets in my city are laid out in a grid, like a neat and tidy checkerboard. The buildings are pretty much up and down............this side of this building is perfectly up-and-down-parallel with that side of that building. Even way out in the country all the farm fields are neat and tidy, laid out in mile-by-mile squares making our 99 counties look like a perfectly stitched patchwork quilt from the window of an airplane at 30,000 feet.

I'm an artist, it's not that everything has to be squared-up ordinary to appeal to me. I'm just sayin' my world lines up pretty nice in front of my eyes most days in a way that makes proportional sense.

Take one tippy-head chick with an overstuffed suitcase, point her in the direction of an airport with a ticket for Atlanta and you've got a recipe for complete, mind-numbing vertigo.

The terminal.
I try not to look up.

Moving sidewalk.
Moving walls.

Moving neon.

Hold. On. With. Both. Hands.

Don't look down.
Or sideways.

And that was just the airport.

The hotel is 50 floors.
For a girl that doesn't like heights those are just
50 opportunities for one to go plummeting to an untimely death
while rummaging in ones purse for the room key.

Wasn't kidding.
Not a square corner in the place.

245 steps and two elevator rides from the front desk to
my room at the verry end of this hallway.

One entire wall of my room was glass and I swear to you the floor was slightly tilted toward those windows ~ untimely death via a middle-of-the-night stumble in the wrong direction. Tough to sleep when you're worried you're going to end up 50-floors down on the pavement in your nightie if you need to get up and pee.

So I didn't. I just took my decongestants, slipped under these covers with the remote control, kept the curtains closed the whole time and pretended my room was on the first floor.

Even when I'm feeling a little dizzy in the head, I recognize a good thing when I see it.
A six-pillow week is generally gonna be a pretty great week.

2009-12-31T15:33:00.004-06:00

This winter's snow is no big news. Not if you live where it snows, anyway.
It started after Thanksgiving and it's been coming down in a nice, big way ever since.

My office is on the second floor of the design/production studio where I work.
Floor to roof windows line an entire wall of the building providing natural light for artists that work on the floor beneath those hanging lights.

The view out the window is pretty darn magic in any season but in the winter as gently falling snow frosts the branches of the oak trees that are older than my great-grandparents, it will take a girls breath away. Every now and then when I get the urge to whine about something work-related, I look up from my computer and stare out those big windows. Debbie, old girl.....I say to myself.....so you want to trade this for a telemarketing cubicle in a big ol' office somewhere??????

By the time the first snowstorm stopped, it was deep. Really deep.

No way I was getting out of the garage for a day or two.
Only one thing for a girl to do and it's what I do every time it snows...........

I cook and bake!!!!

Dilly Casserole Bread. Rising Nicely. The aromatic smells of dill with a slight hint of onion and yeast rising in my house reminds me of when my mom would bake during the holidays when I was just a kid. Soooooo good!!!

Silent as the snowy winter is outside there is always evidence of snoopy little visitors who continue to poke around the place regardless of the weather.

Eventually the sun shines and it starts to melt.
Mind you, today it's 12 degrees outside.......yes TWELVE FULL DEGREES. At this rate it's going to take a long time for all this snow to melt. Before it has a chance, we'll probably get more. I don't care. I LOVE this winter and all the snow!!!

Through the wind and the sleet and the frigid temperatures, stubborn garden buddies persevere, peeking out from beneath the melting blanket in hopes that spring is around the corner.

The dripping continues, hinting tomorrow might....just might.....be warmer.

Nahhh, not so much. Winter's just begun to wrap her long fingers around our neighborhoods.

Put a pot of water on the stove for tea, unfold the afghans and stack up some winter books and movies. Spring will come. Later. Much, much later.

Must be Autumn

2009-11-08T17:52:00.002-06:00

Baby sister arrived from the country with fresh little brown eggs straight from the family chickens.

She's been having fun canning, too. This kind of stuff is manna from heaven for a sister who buys most of her evening meals at the grocery store deli. Can't wait to make some chili out of the tomato juice she brought. But's tonight it's broccoli,a little cheese and a few other fixin's for a warm-your-tummy egg bake casserole. Mmmmmmmm.

Popcorn and black cats.

Yup, it must be fall.

She talks!!!!

2009-10-14T18:06:00.003-05:00

Feels to me like it's time to shake things up. Anything. Everything I can think of. I am not a big fan of complaceny, kind of always craning my neck to see what's up ahead, just around the next bend.

Stay tuned. I think the next couple of years are gonna rock.
Meanwhile, this weeks challenge is to look technology straight in the eye and embrace it as my friend. I came to the realization I've been hiding under my 50's era rock for too long. After days of fretting over a non-responsive laptop, my younger (and ever-so-much smarter) classmate reached over, flicked a switch and brought my lifeless computer back to full function. No one ever told me there was a switch. Is there a MANUAL for this stuff?? Are younger people just BORN with this info???

I don't know.
But I'm up for the challenge and from here on out, I'm not only accepting technology, I'm inviting it into my living room, asking it to put it's feet right up on my couch and embracing it like a favorite visitor come-to-call.

This evenings adventure with my new friend is......VIDEO!!!
Ha! This is no bigga deala to lots of people but I'm telling you what, I've had my challenges with the little camera my son gave me for my computer. Ask my granddaughter about the day I tried to Skype with her and couldn't figure out why I could see HER....but she couldn't see me. (Camera was in my desk drawer the whole time). How patient her little voice....."Grandma just look down in the corner, there is a blue button, just push it....I'm sure you can do it, Grandma Debbie!!!"

Well.
Now I can. And I decided to just dive in and see how it goes.

EPISODE ONE
IS THIS THING ON???????

Lessons immediately learned:

LOOK at the camera, Deb. Eye contact!!! Eye contact!!!
I say "uhm" too much.
And try not to dart around..........a person could get a headache.

Hello from me.
We'll try again in a few days.

XOXO
Deb

Bagel Chat

2009-09-27T16:46:00.005-05:00

Crabby guy in green apron at my bagel shop today. First time that's ever happened. Bagel people are usually happy people. He was just outright rude and ignored me as I stood patiently waiting for his attention...someone's attention....at the counter. Kinda annoying but I also remember the 12 hours I worked there and quit. It was a few years back. I needed a job. Yup, 4 hours of training followed by one 8-hour shift and that was enough for me. I cried all the way to the car, my feet and legs hurt so bad, making mental note: places you like to shop and dine won't necessarily be places you'll like to work.

I study at my bagel shop most Sunday's, buying something to nibble on or sip every hour or so. Life unfolds at nearby tables, most of which I completely miss because I'm buried in what I'm doing. But snippets of conversation drift my way......

Young teenager girl and Dad having lunch together:

Teen: Oh you know how it is with mom, Dad. She hasn't changed since you lived with us. I said to her the other day, "You and Dad have very different senses of humor" and mom said, "Yeah, mine's funny."

Girl laughs.
Dad kind of laughs.
She's too young to understand the dig. He's wonderful. Never a negative comment and asks lots of questions requiring open-ended answers about what is going on in the daughter's life. Her new boyfriend: has she met his parents? He listens. Really listens. He's honestly interested in her young life. She's a lucky daughter. I wish I could tap him on the arm when his daughter isn't looking and tell him I think what a great Dad I think he is.

Two sisters and a friend, having coffee and talking about one of the sister's upcoming wedding:

Sister #1: Is Dad giving you away?

Sister #2: No, we think that's stupid. No one is "giving me away". He'll be there but he's a groomsman.

Sister #1: Ohmygod, do NOT make me walk with that man. I'm sorry but that is one thing I refuse to do as a bridesmaid. I will NOT walk with that man.

Sister #2: Don't worry, he's walking with his wife, she's a bridesmaid....

Moms having coffee and bagels, talking about kids that just went off to college:

Lady #1: I just opened up another account in both our names and keep an eye on it. When the balance drops down, I just put another hundred dollars or so in it for him. You know, it's no big deal and just easier that way.

Another lucky kid.

Professor and student:

Professor, comment directed at me as the two of them are getting ready to leave: You seem to be working wayyyy too hard on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Me, pulling my nose out of the PowerPoint I'm working on and looking at them for the first time: This is my idea of fun. So far they don't have a pill for it.

We chat.
Nice people. They leave.
Time for me to leave, too. Warmed by the friendly conversation I take pity, looking around for the crabby guy in the green apron as I buy a loaf of bread to take home. I think I'll tell him I've had bad days too, I know what it's like and I really do hope he has a better day tomorrow. Can't find him. Next time I see him I'm sure he'll be allllllllll better.

Or maybe not. Wouldn't be surprised if he threw down his apron and walked to his car crying. The bagel business can do that to a person.

Callin' in the Aunties

2009-09-26T23:46:00.010-05:00

Me and the cousins had some kinda sweeeeet fun today, playing with ribbons and wire and fall-ish stuff for our nieces wedding next weekend.

We fussed over flowers with a glue gun to make bouquets and stuff for the outdoor ceremony that will be held on their little acreage in Southern Iowa.
It'll be a blue-jeans sort of party, cider and kegs to go with the wedding cake.

Later this week her aunties will bake the wedding cake and we're going to spend all day next Saturday making sure everything is set up pretty and perfect when she walks through the freshly mowed yard on the arm of her Daddy later in the afternoon.

MMmmmmm autumn.

First Class

2009-09-24T20:54:00.005-05:00

First class: the people I'm in class with every Tuesday night for 4 hours.
Second class: My photography on this particular evening when we did a couple of team-building exercises on the parking lot. Sorry...........I was trying to juggle my camera in one hand, not let go of the rope with the other and was laughing so hard, I couldn't hold the camera still.

Anyway.............these are some of my best girls. Ladies and gentlemen may I introduce you to...........

The Ladies of MBLD003

They're smart, they're witty, they're busy employees, wives, daughters, mothers and friends. I learn something from them every single week and just feel so very lucky to have landed in their midst a year ago.

And might I add, they can finesse a rope, fast and pretty.

Meanwhile, way out in the back 40, the boys 911 Dr. Johnson and beg him to come untangle them before it gets dark and scary outside. (Love ya, guys)

Well. You really kinda had to be there. It wouldn't make much more sense if I tried to explain it, but we were having some kinda fun in that parking lot.

This is my little three-peeps study group. We sit together in class.
We hang out together on Sundays.

I can't begin to tell you how much I loves these two.
I'm a lucky Debbie to have them on my side.

Dining Alfresco

2009-09-21T19:31:00.004-05:00

Our company collaborated with an architectural firm to create a giant sculptural installation. A 30 ton dining table and chairs, fabricated of steel and installed over a walking bridge in Grand Rapids, Michigan is Sticks entry in ArtPrize 2009.
www.artprize.org

Watching the cranes install the pieces via webcam last week was really cool.
Here are a few shots of the installation coming together:

Mable, Mable..........

Random

2009-09-18T18:48:00.005-05:00

Random thoughts as the sun sets and the weekend prepares to unfold:

1. My TAB key is broken and it's very annoying.

2. I grow weary of people who lie.

3. The hummingbirds and robins have all flown South, haven't seen either in at least 2 weeks.

4. All those years spent as a stay-at-home mom: WORTH IT.

5. Bummer. Grilled asparagus really doesn't freeze well.

6. Shopping the Lady Clairol aisle without glasses: bad idea

7. Every now and then a great kiss just fixes everything.

8. It's really hard to walk across a yard that's full of acorns.

9. There is always someone with bigger problems.

10. On a great day like today, it's hard to choose a favorite moment but I did watch a big hedgehog munching grass out in the woods and that was pretty cool.

Thanks for the music, Mary

2009-09-16T21:52:00.000-05:00

Tennessee Weekend

2009-09-12T23:35:00.009-05:00

Nashville is lots shinier than I imagined. And taller.

We took a couple wrong turns. Had to stop and ask for directions. Once we settled in to our hotel, it didn't take much wandering in the humid summer air to find the night side of Nashville. Word to the wise: if you think you're great at karaoke back home in front of the neighbors and a few of your co-workers....you're notsomuch here. Wannabe country music stars grab the mics in bars up and down the streets of Nashville, giving a whole new meaning to the word "amateur". My t-shirt smelled like cigarettes and bar-food by the end of our first evening like you might expect lots of places....you can still smoke in bars down there..........but my ears were filled with music like I've never heard from a karaoke mic anywhere else. I swear I sat and listened to Elvis and Reba and Willie Nelson all evening. Even though, of course, I know this is not possible since I've heard Elvis is working in a Git'n Go in Pulaski, Ohio.

The Country Music Hall of Fame is a great place. The architecture of the building itself is reminiscent of string instruments with windows that line up like the keyboard of a piano. Very cool. While some of us wandered around looking at the displays, one of us engaged a young employee in conversation about the beauties of living in the South. They are many. Escaping Minnesota winters being one of them, he explained, having relocated to Nashville from Minneapolis. While the gift shops are typically full of anything and everything you could possibly want to purchase with Elvis memorialized on it.....from pencil sharpeners to t-shirts to teddy bears and coffee mugs, the halls were filled with memorabilia from country stars past and present.

My daughter would want you to know this is "THE SHIRT that GARTH FREAKIN' BROOKS wore when he did the video for 'The Dance", Ma." Indeed it is. We love Garth.

Visiting Nashville was just a little side benefit of the trip to Tennessee.
The reason three of us traveled to Nashville was to meet up with my daughter, who works in Deer Lodge, Tennessee as a therapeutic counselor at resident youth camping program.

It's an amazingly peaceful, beautiful place.
Sara walks down this path to work from the cabin where she lives when she goes on duty.

We spent part of the weekend at a horse ranch where campers bring their trailers and horses for a weekend of riding and camping.

All around the ranch are campsites with corrals for the visiting horses. At night all the campers sit around the fire and share stories.

Wish you could see this picture better, but I have to include it because it reminds me of the evening around the campfire with a whole bunch of great people, chatting like old friends even though we'd never met before. Sara sang with her guitar with a full moon overhead, shining down on us all through the tall, tall pines.

Great memories.
Great crew.

Great weekend.

AUGUST 2009

2009-08-26T21:28:00.003-05:00

Kinda bored with the page background.
Wish I knew more about designing blog pages.
Making note: find someone who knows more than me.

Sitting here watching a public TV special on the the Kennedy family over the years. It's prompted of course, by the death of Ted Kennedy but it starts with Joseph and Rose and has moved right on up through all of the history....on up to the present. Really well done. So nostalgic. I remember it all....the bomb shelter built in the parking lot of a nearby shopping plaza when things got dicey with the Cubans. I wasn't scared, I was just a little kid. But I remember what the yellow and black "Fallout Shelter" signs looked like and how they popped up everywhere.

I was in a third-grade classroom when Mrs. Herron was called to the office. When she returned to class she told us President Kennedy had died, we all had to go home from school early and we should be very quiet and respectful in the halls. The images on TV were all in black and white and there was nothing but death and funeral coverage on all channels...for days. No wonder those images are seared into the memories of all of us who were old enough to understand.

I didn't care much for history when I was a kid in school. Funny how I soak it up like a sponge now. Must come with age. I remember my younger sister having to write a research paper on the Kennedy assassination when she was in high school. She was borrrrrrrrrrred to tears. When she told me just how bored she was with the subject I was incredulous. Seriously!!!??? Since the day it happened I haven't been able to walk past a magazine article or book on the subject without picking it up and diving in. I was there. I remember. It makes all the difference.

A friend of mine died this week, too. Brain cancer. There is something to be said for dying from a terminal illness that lingers just a bit. There is time. Things that need to be said.......get said. Things that need to be done.........get done. The urgency of the every-day hassles we all wrestle with take a back seat to issues of substance and moments of deep and true meaning. Brad left on a positive note, having said and done what had to be said, what had to be done. He'd be the first to tell you, there were many many things that needed to be said to lots of people.
I'm thankful he had the opportunity to stitch up those ragged tears and go home to heaven knowing the fabric of the family he left behind was seamless and whole.

It's human nature to cling to life. It's a deep, primal instinct. Listen to all the talk on the subject these days. Talk radio. Newspapers. Is the government wanting to tell us when it's time to die? Should we be able to choose? Is there an age when we're too old to receive treatment for an illness?

Tonight I was talking to my sister, wondering out loud if it's wrong to pray that someone would die. After months of deteriorating health, our mom is not doing well. She's a woman of great faith and she's weary. There is peace on her face and she's pretty much checked out. She doesn't know us when we walk in the room. She's ready.

I see it in her eyes.

It's a wonderfully grey evening. A steady rain is falling.

Lazy, lazy summer days. The best kind.

2009-08-20T21:17:00.004-05:00

It's good to be five and a half.

It's better to be Grandma.

SO Guilty

2009-08-17T19:50:00.002-05:00

Does this commercial crack anyone else up??

Ahh technology.
Everything is just so different, are there rule books for this stuff?????

Mike's Graduation Day

2009-08-01T21:21:00.011-05:00

It could have rained. No one would have noticed. But it was a blue-sky beautiful summer's day. The grass was green, the breeze was gentle and inside the auditorium the uniforms were pressed, the shoes and badges polished.

Graduation day for our Michael.
It began with the surprise arrival of his favorite little girl in the world.
My dear daughter-in-law Nikki, Victoria's sweet mommy Lisa and I all conspired along with 5-year old Victoria to fly her in for the special occasion...........and keep it a secret. That's a tall order for an almost-Kindergartner!

But we did it! She popped out of the car into the surprised arms of her Daddy, the perfect start to a perfect day.

So let's get this show on the road!!

Class officers as they're introduced. Mike was VP of the 229th graduating class of the
Iowa Law Enforcement Academy

Officially receiving his badge from great friend and cousin Chris, an Iowa State Trooper.

Grandpa Evans graduated from the ILEA in 1973.
He served with the Polk County Sheriff's Department.

The accomplishment is shared by Mike's wife Nikki. They're newlyweds and she kept everything going at home while he was away for the past couple of months.

Proud, proud Grandma.

Mike and his Dad.

Mike graduated on my birthday. Can't think of a better present!
That night at the party we took out some time for cake.

Victoria was busy catching lightning bugs.
She wouldn't let me see him because.....Grandma, I can't. You KNOW he'll fly away!!!

When it got dark we broke out the glow-in-the-dark party bracelets.
This is David's sweetheart of a girlfriend Missy.

Teri and Rodney.

Yet another of my great kids. David. My oldest.

My cousin and traveling buddy, Rhonda.

My daughter-in-law Nikki is super-hostess. She was all over the back yard all evening like the Energizer bunny, making sure everyone had food and drinks. She had a pink pig pinata for the little kids, fireworks and packages of powdered donuts for everyone.....get it.....donuts...cops.....love it.

Mike and Nik's yard is huge and there were groups of people all over it in lawn chairs, at picnic tables, relaxing around the fire pit, checking out the garden. After I filled up a little plate of food and made my rounds saying hello, I spent the rest of the evening tucked into a corner of their deck where we had a great view of the party going on in the yard.

Candlelight made for some blurry pics but I had to include them because I had such a great time with these friends. Janie and my cousin, Sherilyn. A couple of my veteran Camper Girls.

My cousin Rodney. One of my favorite guys in the whole world.

Didn't take long after the kids started swinging. Soon all that was left of the piggy pinata was piles of candy on the ground and a nice, pink, pig head.

Inside, in the spirit of the days surprises, Victoria takes careful aim and nails Grandpa with a can of silly string when he isn't lookin'.

It was a great day. Much more so than my photos show
Congratulations Mike, your family is proud of you.

Seriously.......!!!!!!

2009-08-01T09:12:00.006-05:00

It takes two airplanes, one long walk through the underground tunnel at O'Hare, a cheese pizza, one bag of gummy fish, four bathroom stops and three bottles of water to get from Virginia to Iowa on the best of days. In between we read books, complete fabulous art projects and talk and wave to every little kid rolling by in a stroller.

Other days, it takes a little longer.
Throw in a box of McNuggets, a stuffed "I Love Chicago" beanie bear and five or six rides up and down the terminal on the moving sidewalk, just because it's fun. All the while in search of a quiet bench where we can sit and wait. And wait. And wait.

And wait.

Finally we get on the plane.
We buckle in. We adjust the lights. We adjust the fan. We raise and lower the window shades, just to make sure they work. And we wait. And wait.

Entertaining ourselves while the pilot gets ready to take us home.

Listening to the headsets helps pass the time.

And you'd think a Grandma would know, when you're listening to music on a pair of headphones, you're not listening to questions grown-ups ask.

Ohhhhhh well.

Do I Detect Man-Sweat in the Neighborhood????

2009-07-17T20:57:00.012-05:00

Princes Charming ThisGuyFromOutEast and ThisGuyFromOverWest rolled in just about time for lunch. "Anything we can help with?" they asked. My keen eyes detected rippling muscles and brute strength beneath the sleeves of their summer t-shirts.

Well...

Actually, you could move a couple of things from the garage to the upstairs. Like that dresser over there. It's pretty heavy though......

After moving furniture we all sat outside and had sandwiches, some beverages and lovely conversation during which they mentioned when they offered to help they sorrrrrrta had in mind something along the lines of chopping vegetables.....maybe husking the sweet corn. The whole dresser-thing??? Well. That was a bit of a surprise.

Y'know what? They dove right in and took care of business. That big dresser was up my stairs and in my bedroom before I'd fried up the bacon or sliced the tomatoes. I love that about guys from out of town. They ended up cleaning my whole garage.

Thanks boys. Big smooches to the top of both your precious heads. Youz the bestest.

And more of the same to my best girl who kept us smiling and laughing as we enjoyed the summer afternoon. A thousand hugs to my little one. Good to have you home.

Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes

2009-07-16T20:35:00.003-05:00

I had horrible shoes when I was a kid. This was before rows and rows of try-'em-on-yourself styles at WalMart and Payless. We shopped at proper shoe stores and my feet were short and wide. Like Flintstone feet sorta. I remember a shoe guy dropping that torturous Victorian metal measuring deal with the slide in-thing for foot width near my toes and laughing to my mom, "This kids foot is shaped like a loaf of bread."

Thanks for making a 3rd-grade kid feel special, Bubba.

All this as background to let you know why I love looking at shoes. Other peoples shoes. Not mine. My head it still back in that old shoe store, intimidated and self-conscious. I buy functional shoes in sensible colors and styles that I wear until they fall apart. But I LOVE looking at the fun shoes OTHER people choose.

My Tuesday night class is a parade of foot fashion.

Are those too cute????

And how about these???
Yup, the ladies in my class have some fun, fun shoes.

When I see them walk into class in the shoe-choice-o-the-week, it always makes me think of one of my favorite all-time songs and videos. You know how everyone has at least one movie they would watch over and over and over and never tire of it? This video comes from one of mine. Love Kevin Bacon. Loved the movie. My first car was a VW bug just like his.
And oh how I loved to dance before my knees turned to Cap'n Crunch.

Enjoy.

Hail Yes, it Hailed

2009-07-16T17:56:00.003-05:00

You gotta see this.
The wind came up around midnight.
The rain started.
And then it hailed.

From my second floor bedroom I could hear the chunks of ice hitting the shingles and knew they had to be big. It didn't last long, but for a short while it sounded like God was dumping out the ice cube trays of heaven.

Next morning I checked out the pots on my patio to see how my flowers and plants had weathered the storm. Everyone seemed to be fine but I found evidence of the the night's drama in one pot.

Take a look.

One of the pots took a direct hit from a hailstone and left a crater as evidence.
That was a pretty big chunk of ice. And I should mention I left my car parked outside that night instead of tucking it in the garage.

Yeah, there are three dents. Not enough to clear my deductible but the biggest one is right in the middle of the hood so I can enjoy looking at it until the wheels fall off my car.

Gotta love Mother Nature, that girl has one wicked sense of humor.

Bug

2009-07-13T22:04:00.004-05:00

I was driving home from work this afternoon after leaving the building a few minutes early. As I walked down the sidewalk to my car, I felt something on the top of my head. Like something dropped out of the tree branches overhead. A leaf maybe??? I swept the top of my head with my hand and continued to my car.

It was warm outside, I had my windows rolled down like always. I'm cruising down the road, singing with the radio when something sort of itched on the back of my neck. I reached back there....and felt a HUGE bug sitting just below my hairline. A big ol' crusty June-bug kinda bug, if my sense of feel is right. Could be wrong. I screamed and went into serious survival mode.

Yeah, he was biting me. Or nibbling or something.
And helllllll yeah I screamed LOUD and I swerved the car with my right hand as I grabbed the bug with my left hand and flung it out the window.

I never really SAW it.
I felt it. (Yuck!!!)
And I heard it. (ZZZzzz. YUCK!!!!!)
Out of the corner of my eye it was dark and ominously huge.
Fanged, possibly. Can't be sure.
Dangerous?
I'm certain.

I hate bugs.
No picture to prove it but I can feel a little welt on my neck. I'm sure it's there.
They say June bugs don't bite. THEY have never had a June bug on their neck.
Dang thing bit me.
I SWEAR it.

And that's just about as much adventure as I care to enjoy today.

Sand in my Hair

2009-07-12T19:32:00.007-05:00

One of my favorite weekends of the summer: just a couple of plane hops to Stone Harbor, a bit of a drive down the Atlantic City Expressway and we're tucking ourselves into seaside saltbox bedrooms. I go to sleep listening to the ocean roar beyond the sand dunes that rise just a handful of yards from my open window. In the morning I walk the beach as seagulls breakfast out of the morning tide and leave open shells for me to collect and carry back to Iowa. I'll cement the little hinged memories into my patio birdbath and remember the mornings I gloried in the simple luxury of an outdoor shower. There is something so decadently delicious about shampooing your hair in the morning sunshine.

It's a working weekend, most of which is spent talking to customers at Trendz Gallery in Stone Harbor, New Jersey. Once I shower the sand from my feet after my morning walk it's all about Sticks until well after dark, but you won't hear any complaining from me. Saturday as I sat in the outdoor garden where we meet with customers all weekend I looked around and sighed and laughed to my co-worker and friend Amy, who traveled with me to the show, "sucks to be us..."

I took pictures of everything I could see from my spot on the bench under the blue Atlantic skies.

This is where holly spends it's summers, I guess. Before it packs up and heads to Iowa in the form of Christmas wreaths.

In between visits with customers I dropped crumbs of a blueberry muffin on the ground for little birds and they entertained me by taking their morning bath in this fabulous piece that sits in the shade of the garden.

A metal sculpture combining a contemporary design and process with a vintage sentiment.

I love garden art.

Inside the gallery a new friend and sales rep for Heather Moore's line of beautiful, handcrafted gold and silver charm jewelry was helping shore visitors choose and design one-of-a-kind pieces. Fabulous jewelry. Just gorgeous. Fun to spend the weekend with you, Gabriella. Keep in touch!!

Ok, a little weird. I'd have to agree.

But aren't they fun?!!!

I love the contrast of these smooth stone eggs against the random ribbons of glass another artist wove into sweet little dishes. The eggs are tiny, like quail.

Not to forget my best girls. Sticks Hallelujah Ladies.
At Stone Harbor, they're mermaids with fabulous hair and the requisite sea shells placed....just so.....to cover their assets.

What is great art?
Ponder that a bit. There is no "right" answer.
It's different for all of us.

For me, it's something that makes me smile.

I Love a Truck Stop

2009-07-08T20:21:00.005-05:00

I do! I love truckstops.
Haven't wandered one yet that I couldn't find some sweet, trashy little Hello-From-Ogalalla souvenir kinda thing that I've just got to take home and keep forever and ever.

Mid-Nebraska we hit a roadside BP fill-er-up and there it was: the perfect Independence Day commemorative. Sparkly and snazzy, a red, white and blue burst of fireworks on a long enough chain that it hung juuuuuuuuuuust right, all cozy and everything.

God Bless America, is this a great country or what.
Bernie thinks so. I could tell by the look in his eyes. Teri and I fell in love with BP Bernie when he nodded approval over our necklace purchases from behind the Waco counter. A nice lady coming out of the women's restroom was kind enough to snap a picture. As they say............the rest is history.

Isn't that a face and a smile you could just give a big ol' kiss?

We LOVE you Bernie!!!! See you next trip!!!!

My Best Judy

2009-07-05T21:20:00.005-05:00

I met my friend Judy years ago when I spent time in Denver studying. Feeling just a bit displaced and slightly lost in the wake of my recent divorce, she adopted me like she's done with countless other wayward souls over the years. She's been like a mom to me ever since. Our relationship has been mostly via email exchanges flying back and forth between the our keyboards over the years because of the distance between our homes.

The few in-person visits we've enjoyed are memorable treats. She has enlightened me and taught me through her experiences and wisdom. She's an incredible person. Gatherings in her little home --- which I've described here before --- can best be described as "holding court": Judy, usually in pink, center-stage, regaling the likes of me and her other friends, with tales of her life. She makes us laugh until we hurt.

Judy is a woman of great faith. I've learned so much through her eyes and gentle suggestions. A few years back Judy told me she was driving in the mountains, something she just loved to do. She had a destination in mind but no real time schedule. At some point as she drove along enjoying the morning she explained to me she felt like she was supposed to pull off the road. She did so, parking the car on a side road and looked around at the beautiful scenery. In that moment, a beautiful, bright rainbow appeared and....as she described it....just surrounded her with the most incredible colors and sense of peace she had ever, ever experienced. She sat there for the longest time, enveloped in the moment and feeling like she was experiencing the arms of God wrapped around her. Rainbows became a special symbol to Judy.

It wasn't too many months after that moment in the mountains, Judy was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. It was in her lungs and her bones and oh my goodness, I'm not sure where else, it was just everywhere. "Termites" she called them, not tumors. She defied the doctors insistence she'd be dead and buried within a couple months time. "If it's all the same to you," she said "I'm not ready to leave yet."

No, she certainly was not. It's more than 2 years later.

I emailed Judy in June to tell her my best friend Teri and I were coming to spend the 4th of July with her. A frenzy of emails flew back and forth, I'm sure she fussed over her apartment a bit. She told me she was making a grocery list so we could shop for her once we arrived. Last Thursday Teri and I threw our bags in the car and headed West toward Denver.

Life truly is what happens while we're making all our grand plans. As we covered the miles across Nebraska toward the Rocky mountains, Judy's little body reached the point she'd had just about enough. By the time we arrived in Colorado her family had tucked her into the comforting arms of hospice where she is now free of pain, surrounded by her family and waiting for the moment she finally goes home.

We didn't see Judy this weekend.
We decided it would be best to let her family have their final moments with her and we will remember her the way we saw her last: smiling, laughing, fussing over our coffee cups with refills, covering our knees with deliciously soft chenille throws for the chill in the winter air and whispering a gentle warning.....Debbie, don't tip back in that chair, it's' old and it's cracked............just as I did exactly that and landed flat on my back in the middle of her living room. Everyone felt like royalty at Judy's house. How befitting she'll soon be wearing a crown in heaven.

The coolest thing happened on the way home from Denver. Rain fell as we drove out of town. We were talking about the weekend. Talking about Judy and our memories of her. Beyond Denver, wide spaces opened up, green and lush against a dark, stormy sky. As the wipers swiped across the windshield of my car, a rainbow appeared. It was intense, bright and beautiful. Incredibly so. It was like we were driving toward the most brilliant, colorful arch of light you could imagine.

And then...........

.....the arm of the rainbow stretched down out of the sky.......

....over the road.....

...........until it touched the hood of the car. Literally. As we drove, the filmy golds and pinks and greens glistened off the hood of our car in the rain. Just as Judy experienced perfect peace all those long months ago, we felt it now, reminded of the grace with which she has walked through this long and difficult battle with her termites.

An amazing rainbow, the perfect ribbon wrapped around what has been the most beautiful gift of a friendship with an amazing woman. We love you, Judy.

Smells Like Fresh Rubber

2009-06-28T13:45:00.006-05:00

Why is Debbie smiling as the wind blows in her hair?
Because it's a fabulously, beautiful day after a week of sweltering heat and humidity, the sky is blue and the temps have dropped and.........

And because I just got new tires on my car.

No........tires are not that exciting.
No........I don't like hanging out in the auto shop for an hour on a gorgeous morning where I have to write a check for over five hundred dollars before all is said and done. For tires. TIRES. Not the most exciting thing in the world to shop for or purchase. But my sweet little car needed 'em so that's what she got.

The car is happy.
And that makes mama happy.
Vrooom Vroooooom

Arrowhead Stadium in the Summer

2009-06-26T14:07:00.010-05:00

The kids were little. The boys maybe 5 and 7, their little sister toddling around on 3-year old legs. The annual Family Picnic was rolling around, same time, same place, same relatives. That's ok. Those aunts of mine make a wicked potato salad, well worth the trip to the other side of the county. I promised to be there.

Until I heard the announcement on the radio.
The concert was scheduled to be held three hours away in Kansas City at Arrowhead Stadium. Tickets would be sold by lottery with only a certain number available for Iowa buyers. We tried. Ohhh man we tried! Sad and disappointed, the ticket lottery came and went, leaving us empty-handed. We scoured the newspapers but the scalp prices were crazy.....$300 for a pair to start out. Closer to the concert date the prices came down a bit, but not much. This was wayyyy back when and that was one huge pile of money for a concert in KC.

I caught a glimpse of the ad as I was flipping through the newspaper.

Six tickets for the Jackson concert in KC.
We'll sell them for what we paid for them.
$50 bucks each.

I called the guy and offered him everything but a gallon of my blood to hold the tickets until I could get to his front door in a neighboring town. I called my cousin. We couldn't believe it. We were on our way!!!!! A week later on a sweltering summer day I grabbed my baby sister, taped a "Don't start without us, Michael!!!" sign in the back window of the car, picked up my cousin as we sent our husbands and kids to the family reunion without us (bad bad girls!!!!) and headed down to KC.

That I somehow managed to lock the car keys AND the concert tickets into the trunk of the car in the black asphalt parking lot of the stadium later that afternoon in 100-degree temperatures is a memory that pales in comparison to that of the distance we had to climb to reach our seats in Arrowhead Stadium. I'm not sure how far up we were but I do remember passing a sign that said "Nosebleed Section" at which level the ushers were handing out oxygen bottles to those of us that still had about 23 rows left to climb. Once seated I swear to you I saw all my dead relatives float by on clouds with a wave and curious looks on their faces that said, "What the hell are you doing up here, it's not your time yet......"

Soooo what!!! We were THERE!!!!!!
From our celestial vantage point, while the rest of the crowd hummed in ignorant anticipation, we were able to see the vans pull up back stage as the Jackson brothers arrived. With the use of high-powered binoculars we could actually get a good enough look to figure out which one was Michael. He was the one little miniature person wayyyyyyyyyyy wayyyyyyyyyyy down there wearing a glove on one hand.

My cousin saw him first. She threw down the binoculars, shrieked "Michael is down there!!!!" and we all started to scream.

"How do you know!!!! How do you know it's HIM!!!???????"

We were all crying and screaming.
"THE GLOVE!!! I CAN SEE THE GLOVE!!!!!!!!"

Lower levels of the stadium hadn't a clue but those of us up in the rafters with our scalped tickets got the first glimpse of Michael Jackson before he hit the stage on his Thriller tour in Kansas City, Missouri. It was him all right. We could see him. Well..........we could see the glove. It was him. IT WAS HIM!!!!!!

OH!!! MY!!! GOD!!!!!!!
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!!!!!

I watched him grow up. First time I saw him was at the Iowa State Fair. He was the cute little brother of the Jackson 5. Before all the craziness. The nose. The kids. Before he wouldn't sell the Beatles tunes back to Paul. Before all the ugliness started. Who knows what was true. What were lies. Who knows what happens along the way to make a talented little boy grow up to have so many problems. He's gone and we'll never really know.

I choose to remember him just like I saw him on that sweltering summer day. He danced across the stage with his brothers in heat that had me panting for air. And I was just jumping up and down screaming. We got our $50 bucks worth, for sure.

I said you wanna be startin somethin',
You got to be startin' somethin,
Said you wanna be startin' somethin,
You got to be startin' something....

Thanks for the music.
Thanks for the great memories.

Soggy-tuck Michigan

2009-06-22T12:44:00.005-05:00

The rain started coming down this weekend where I was working. I've told you about Saugatuck before; quaint little artsy town on the shores of Lake Michigan. 1,000 people before tourists. Three times that in the summer, lots of wandering folks and girls like me, in town to work at a wonderful gallery in the center of town.

The rain started coming down on Friday as we drove in, making us weave and crawl our way through miles and miles of road construction barriers and cones in a one-by-one curtain of mud-flap spray and blurred tail lights. Every warning about hydro-planing my drivers ed. teacher Mr. Peacock ever gave me came to mind. Visibility was just this side of zip. The sun broke through and pushed the clouds away just as we arrived. Good sign.

But it started raining again and it just kept coming down. We grabbed umbrellas mid-evening and walked a quick 2 blocks to dinner. The rain kept coming down. And down. And dowwwwwwn. We saw lightning. We heard thunder. The restaurant lights flickered. Once. Twice. Diners held their breath and shoveled in supper, wondering if we'd all end up in the dark.

An hour later when we stepped outside the restaurant we found ourselves on a small sidewalk island in an ocean of rain water. Within 4-5 steps beyond the entry of the place the "puddles" started.

I hesitate to call them puddles. Puddles are the sort of thing that babies splash up from the bath. Puddles are the naughty little pools that a new puppy leaves on the kitchen floor when he can't hold back how happy he is to see you. I know puddles. People drool them on pillows.
I savor them in the middle of my mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving. I KNOW puddles.
These were not puddles. These were more like the arms of nearby Lake Michigan reaching up from the banks and shoving her hands down the street where she could pull you in by the ankles. I am not kidding you, when I stepped off the restaurant stoop into that water I swear I saw the Edmund Fitzgerald and wondered if the church bells were going to ring for me tomorrow. This was SERIOUS WATER.

There was no avenue of escape, we just had to take off our shoes and wade, lamp post to lamp post until we made it back to our little guest house. That's just what we did. And you know how it is, you're in the water, you're wet. Why not preserve the moment in photographs.

So I stopped in the middle of the street, pulled out my camera, protected it (sort of) with my umbrella (which had blown inside out, so it wasn't providing a great deal of protection from anything really anyway) and took a couple of pictures of my friends Sandra and Angie they clung to one another for dear life and made their way up the sidewalk in front of me.

I'll bet your are looking at that picture and thinking "is that water really almost up to her skirt?" Yes, it was. Had the three of us held hands, pointed our toes and done a little bit of a wavy thing with our arms we could easily have been mistaken for a synchronized swimming team. Sorry the photos are blurry. I was trying to balance the camera and the umbrella and my purse with my shoes in my hands. You get the idea.

Wet. Really, reallllly wet.

We finally reached our little second floor guest house where I slept like a baby with the wind in the treetops outside my open window. The sounds of storms continued well into the wee hours of the morning. It was only as the sun came up that everyone in town began to discover their basements were flooded, the roads were caved in, trees had uprooted and all those fabulous bedding plants they'd tucked into the ground a few weeks earlier were halfway to Chicago.

We know all about floods here in Iowa.
As we left yesterday I told them all our hearts were with them but really, it was too early for them to even understand what I meant. Unfortunately, they'll come to understand all too clearly..........later.

What Sunday Looks Like

2009-06-14T16:02:00.003-05:00

This is what Sunday looks like.

Week to week it's pretty much the same table, different books.
Have laptop, will travel. Maybe a bagel. Usually a coffee.
There is always company. Three of us in our study group.
This is Jill.

She's one of my study partners and my great friend. We sat down for our first night in class together right around the time my Sara moved away. They're the same age and so of course I've added her to my little herd of adopted family members. Our co-partner in our three-peoples team of crime fighters is John. He left before the camera came out today. One of these days I'll introduce you to him.

Anyway, Jill had a wee bit of a disappointment this week. Big deal at the time. Based on my own experiences, in the grand context of things, a teensy little blip on the screen that she'll learn from and forget. Do you doubt it? Just look at that smile....

Love ya, Jilly!! You'll get by with your great attitude and perhaps for a short while, with a little help from your friends.

Happy Birthday Bucky!!!

2009-06-05T05:54:00.004-05:00

Yesterday one of my favorite people turned the ol' odometer from old to older than dirt. To loosely quote his personal sentiments on the auspicious occasion, he is now "a card carrying member of the KMA club." Or something like that. You get the idea. We're old enough we don't give a whoopteedo 'bout what anyone thinks, we pretty much live life as it feels right for us and go about our biz unfettered by the opinions of others.

I love that about people my age. And I love my friend Bucky to pieces. I've kinda known him since I was a junior high kid where we skated around the same roller rink on Saturday nights. Years later our families lived in the same small town, raising our kids and working together at the same widdy-biddy post office. We think alike, which isn't necessarily a compliment to either of us, just an acknowledgment that one loose screw deserves another when it comes to choosing friends.

If you pass him on the street on a work day, he'll be nattily dressed as a mild-mannered shirt and tie sort of fella. After hours, he'll just look like Grandpa. I thought I'd dress him up for his birthday since every little boy at one point or another wants to be a cowboy when he grows up.

If you pass him on the street this weekend, wish him a Happy Birthday.

And ask him for directions to the nearest buffalo.

All things green and glorious

2009-06-04T20:42:00.008-05:00

Before I left for the airport I tucked everyone in......My cat. He had a full bowl of food, a tidy litter box, radio on upstairs in case he got lonely and an open window so he could sit and enjoy the fresh air.

My plants. Watered, shades open so they got plenty of sunshine. Outdoors I gave all of the newly potted flowers a good watering and whispered a little "good luck" as I threw my suitcases into the car. They were on their own, at the mercy of the weather which...this time of year......can be completely unpredictable.

One week later I come home and whooooaaaaa................everything is lush and green and gorgeous. Except for a flat of sad little guys I forgot to stick in the dirt. To the untrained eye they look ohhh-so-pathetic and quite dead.

For example, this sorry little zinnia.
I choose zinnia's because my townhouse faces South and the summer sun on my patio can be wicked. Strong plants that thrive on all-day sun survive, but only if I water them twice a day. Not watering baby zinnias before they are planted and still living in little greenhouse packs is pretty much a death sentence if you leave them alone for a week. Good and caring garden chicks would not do this. Sadly, I hang my head in shame. I forgot to plant them.

Feeling terribly guilty I started poking around under all that brown, crunchy stuff a bit and got all excited when I found a tiny, tender little green stem. Hmmmmmmmm. A chance to redeem myself. This is a challenge and I'm going to meet it. Tonight I tucked four of these cripsy-critter lookin' guys into fresh dirt and I'm gonna baby 'em back to life or ruin my fingernails trying.

Half an hour down the road another botanical tragedy was taking place as I whiled away the hours working in Las Vegas last week. Take a look at this pretty little miniature rose I had sitting on my desk at work. Sweet, huh?

My desk is on the second floor of our studio. As you can see, just beyond the steel rail that keeps me from falling to my death every time I dive for an errant paper that shoots out of my printer with a mind of it's own, are big doors that open into the fresh air of the outdoors. Seemingly the perfect place for a lovely little rose to thrive, right?

Wrong.
Super-wrong. This is the same miniature rose. Oh what a difference a week makes.

It withered, wilted, drooped and pretty much gave itself up for mulch in the short six days I was gone. Disappointed? You bet I was disappointed. You don't wither up and die on my watch, buster. Home to the intensive care nursery for you.

Tonight he got a good clipping, a new pot and a spot in the sun next to several other plants who know how to behave. Hopefully he'll learn by example.

Before I took off my garden gloves this afternoon I had one more very important pot to fill. Here, I'll give you a peek.

This pot is a surprise. I can't tell you what is under the dirt until later. I can tell you, you're gonna love it.................IF all goes as planned. Fingers crossed............stay tuned.

I LOVE Cab Drivers

2009-05-30T15:05:00.004-05:00

I do love cab drivers. I meet lots of them throughout the year and wonder if anyone has ever done a study on the collective personalities of a city's cabbies in relation to the city itself. Does that group of mobile ambassadors reflect anything about the city in which they live and work?

I think they might.
Twice in Philadelphia I've been taken on the tell-tale "ride".........you know, the ride where you get in the cab, tell the driver where you want to go and he ends up driving around in loops just to knock the fare up a few bucks because he knows you're from out of town and won't know the difference. Problem is, I know the difference in Philly because I have worked there lots. Enough to know a cab ride from one spot to another should take about so many minutes. But I don't know my way around enough to be able to tap the guy on the shoulder and say "Dude, you shoulda turned back there....why didn't you?" I just don't trust cabbies in Philly.

It took me several rides in another city to decide they apparently never hire people who speak English. First few rides the drivers kept mumbling and I assumed they were talking to me. I listened, trying to understand them and respond. Took me a while to realize they speaking Hindi or Guatamalish or Ethiopian, they were talking into the blue tooth headset in their ear....and I'm pretty sure they were saying something along the lines of "Dumb American chick in my back seat thinks I'm trying to talk to her."

In the city where I live, the only sure spot to find a taxi cab is at the airport.
If you're visiting town, don't plan on eating out and then catching a cab back to your hotel after dinner. Huh-uh. These streets ain't the Field of Dreams, folks. If you build up your hopes of a ride home..............there is no promise they will come. If you make the call on Wednesday, make sure you've got provisions to get you through the weekend just in case. It's going to be a long wait. On the other hand, if you are at the airport and you want a ride home after a return flight, you won't have a problem. Jack (named changed to protect me) is always there waiting. At least he always seems to be there waiting for me. Last three times I hitched a cab ride home from the airport, Jack was curbside to grab my bags. Jack is a friendly cab driver. Very friendly. He's chatty too. He will ask you if you had a good trip. He will ask you if you like to travel. He will ask you if your husband or boyfriend likes it that you travel. The FIRST time he asks you that, you will tell him you're not married................and then he'll tell you his wife doesn't understand him and.....well, you know where this is going.

Rewind and tell Jack the friendly cab driver that your husband the former Marine drill instructor black belt in karate and gold medal-winning Olympic sharp-shooter has a terrible temper and HATES it that you travel. Jack will dispatch you to the doorstep swiftly, help you with your luggage and graciously decline your tip.

Speaking of friendly...........I'm working in Las Vegas this week.
And this is my new favorite cab driver.

He greeted us with a genuine smile, chatted all the way to the hotel, slowed down a bit so we could gawk at a fender bender that did mean things to a real expensive car and hummed out loud, declaring "she sure has nice booty" when we passed a billboard announcing Beyonce was coming to town soon.
Who could disagree and I do love genuine, unbridled enthusiasm in anyone.

Thanks for the ride, Ernesto.

Great Weekend

2009-05-25T21:54:00.004-05:00

I should be in bed. I've been off four days, I want to be at work early tomorrow because I'm working out of town all next weekend. Dang, but I just can't make myself close the door on this holiday weekend until the verrrrry last minute...which has just about arrived.

The bike is assembled!! Heck yeah!!!
Rode it on Friday afternoon. Need to make some adjustments but me and the tools made peace, we put the bike together and it actually looks just like the picture on the website. I'll take some pictures.

The rest of the weekend was just fun. Went to street festival with the kids on Saturday. The clouds opened up just about the time we arrived and rain pretty much closed down the party. We stood around yakking in the rain which was fun anyway. We had two little 1-year old's with us, teensy little girls in sandals that have just recently learned to walk and they both were completely delighted at discovering street puddles. While everyone else was hiding under umbrellas and tarps, the two of them gleefully pranced around in the water, completely oblivious to the falling rain. Can't imagine they could have had any more fun unless maybe they were naked...everyone knows babies love runnin' around stripped down to the birthday suit.

Sunday afternoon my study group...whereas I might add we have recently streamlined our fine selfs down to a compact unit of three members who get along famously.... met here at my place. John just got back from duty in Italy and brought some wine that he thoughtfully carried all the way back on the plane. Jill brought crackers and this cream cheese/jalapeno jelly stuff that is wicked delish. I threw together some sandwiches and we had ourselves a bit of a party under the shade of the patio umbrella. As a nice breeze blew we spent a little bit of time discussing our strategy for next weeks in-class debate on smoking, religion and stuff, a lot of time talking about life in general and what we plan to be when we grow up. By the end of the second bottle Jill (the youngster in the group, I might add) needed to nap on my couch, John was pontificating on the wardrobe preferences of Middle Eastern women and I'd become more intelligent than you could possibly imagine.
I slept pretty darned good last night.

Company always tuckers out my Binks.

He's been like this most of the day. I swear we didn't give him a drop of wine
but I have a feeling last night after I went to bed he was down here licking corks.

My flag few today. Thanks to my son and my best ESteven and Michael in Oregon and Donnie and Russ and Deb and my step-dad and FIL, my uncles and cousins and all of those who served. Thanks to Greg who I follow on Facebook. And John who might be deployed before we have a chance to graduate together.
Thank you, thank you all.

It's time. Day is done.
Off to bed and bring on the summer.

Holiday Weekend Eve

2009-05-21T18:30:00.004-05:00

I am twitchy, giddy and generally all a-twitter on the eve of this holiday weekend. My Memorial weekend slate is clean with only fun stuff scheduled. Breakfast with my cuz. A little soiree with my study group. Indeed, my weekend is a calendar of hours just open and waiting for lovely things to happen. I'm going to unfold the next four days like a love letter, one careful crease at a time. Mmmm mmm mmmmmmm. I'm staying up late tonight (read that 9 pm or so....) just so I can prolong the anticipation and spend the evening nibbling on the idea of the unfettered days to come.

I bought tools. Spanners and closed-end thingies in 13mm and 15mm and I dunno what else. A smart gal suggested I hit her favorite upscale tool supply store with my shopping list so I did. Thanks Jan, you were right. They had everything I needed at Target.

Well.......I think I got the right stuff....I'm not positive. None of the tool stuff was labeled like the words in the bike book. I had to shop-by-picture, using the stuff I found when I Googled all the tool names last night.

Hey people!!!!! I think I'm gonna put a bike together tonight!!!!

That's the plan anyway.
More at 11.

Boxes on the Porch

2009-05-20T19:05:00.007-05:00

Today is a very exciting day! Came home to find both the UPS guy AND the FedEx guy had visited my front porch. Two boxes to open, ohhh man I LOVE getting stuff from those guys.

First box. Ripped it open with a bottle opener. Pair of shoes! Yeahhh! That new pair of sandals I ordered. Pulled them right out of the box, slipped them on.......easy!

Next box. Bigger. Lots bigger.
It's my bike!!!! I ordered a bike a couple of weeks ago and it's here!!! I'm so excited I could spit. But this is a job for something a little more serious than a bottle opener. Nooooo problem! My craft scissors work nicely. The big staples holding the corners of the box together bend pretty easy and............

Oh.

Ok. Sooooo apparently you don't just rip open the box, slide out the bike and start riding it around the house. (Which yknow, is pretty much the way it works with shoes: open box, put on shoes, walk to mirror, admire feet, congratulate self on great choice....yada yada.)

Not so much with the bike.

Oh dear.

Sheesh. This is looking like some serious business and my happy face is starting to get sad.

Things always look better in the living room. I carry the various pieces in, prop them on the carpet and resolve to face disassembled scary bike like a big girl - with tools!!! I have some!!! How tough can this be..........there's gotta be a little instruction sheet here somewhere, I'm sure it's just a sliding A into B kinda thing. Five minutes and I'll be pedaling down the street. Now where is that instruction sheet.....................

Err...I mean, 64 page Bicycle Owners Manual and Assembly Instructions. This is the part where lesser women hiss and say "ohhhh sh*t!" Not me, baby. Nope. I march to the tool drawer and lay out my nice collection of tools.

I have a nice hammer, some pliers, five flat screwdrivers in a variety of colors and some pointy-pinchy things. And sometimes a big ol' knife and spatula come in handy, too.

Ok, let's tackle this baby and get out there on the bike trail.

The bike assembly instructions aren't bad. I think I can do it. But I'm up a creek, I have never HEARD of these tools. Spanner??? What the...or is that scanner.....put on my glasses. Nope, it's spanner. It says I have to use a 13mm spanner and I haven't a clue. And once I'm done with that, I'm supposed to use a 15mm open ended spanner.

Not to be outdone by a booklet of instructions printed in plain English, I take my study skills straight into the pages of the manual, highlight the unidentified tools and turn to my good friends at GOOGLE. What the freakin' heck is a spanner!!!???????

Huh??? Doesn't that have to be hooked to something like a handle or something? Crum. None of my screwdrivers look anything LIKE that thing.

Or this thing. So yeah. This is the part where I get sigh and say Ohhhhhhhhh sh*t.

And then, of course, I get a grip and do what I always do in situations like this.

I make toast.

What can I say, I'm a stress-eater. Some people pop a Zoloft, some people grab a beer. Me?

I make toast.

I don't know what I'm gonna do now. I feel just a little bit like I might cry.

I won't. But I kinda feel like it.

I'll figure it out.

Stay tuned.

From Wayyyy back when...

2009-05-19T21:10:00.002-05:00

Went out for dinner with a guy I used to date in high school. He lives in Oregon and was visiting family back here for the first time in years. Had to grab pizza at an old haunt that hasn't changed much more than an occasional light bulb since the year we graduated. Even the menu looks exactly the same.

Best thin crust pizza on the planet, if we're voting.

Mike went to a different high school than I did. He played football. Nice smile. Laughed easily. Lots of fun. We used to zip around town in his little white car. Soon as we graduated he joined the Air Force. Although we've kept in touch off and on over the years, we've probably crossed paths in person maybe three times since wayyy back when.

After flipping stories back and forth across the table we did a little tour of the city and took a nice, slow drive through the Iowa State Fairgrounds and the old neighborhood where he used to play as a kid. Fun night. Unfortunately I was out of town on business nearly the entire time he was here so we only had the one night to catch up but it was a good time. He's a proud dad and Grandpa. I had to laugh at the amount of time we spent talking about our kids and grandkids. Somethin' so wonderful about the spark in an old friends eyes when they're talking about their kids and grandbabies.

Doubt I could convince my kids to believe it but some of you are old enough to know it's really true........the memories you make when you are young are even sweeter when you relive them with old friends.

Yup. Getting older is lots of fun.

Weekend in Asheville

2009-05-18T17:00:00.008-05:00

I'll tell you what, I sipped myself into some serious state of Sweet Tea Oblivion this weekend. I have a great recipe and reputation for it myself, but there is something about the way a tea bag steeps in the shadow of the Smoky Mountains that gives that fabulous tea a most wonderful flavor. Mmmm and oooohhhh shugah!!!!!

I was in the Carolina's working at a wonderful place called New Morning Gallery located in Asheville. The region is known for it's artisans, skilled in all manner of traditional American craft. These are skills that have been handed down from generation to generation. The motto of the gallery is "art for living" and you'll see why as you move on down through the pictures.

The gallery features the finest American Craft work you can find. The wonderful thing is that it's not "don't-touch" art........I love wall art and they have lots of that too, but the store is filled with American Craft art which is functional, textural, touchable and intended to be integrated and used.....as their motto suggests....into your every-day living.

Take a walk with me through the place and I'll show you some really cool stuff......

I especially like fun, sorta odd-ball sculptural pieces. Lots of them to be found in galleries like this. You'd be hard-pressed to find a formal bust of one of the Vanderbilts in this place (although they built the famous Biltmore Estate in Asheville) but there are plenty of crazy dogs and cats and crows and............

......cute little pottery ladies with an attitude.

All over the gallery you'll find hand-crafted tables set with wonderfully creative pottery pieces. On the shelves are place settings of unique pottery and rows and rows of glassware. If you look closer, you'll note that the goblets are hand-blown glass. The pieces are all signed by the artists.

You don't find stuff like this on the shelves at Pottery Barn.

One of my favorite American Craft artists is Chris-Roberts Antieau. She patches her pieces together using wonderful vintage fabrics, outlining each image in beautiful embroidery stitches.

And more glass........

Could you set a suhhh-WEEET table with pretty things like this!!????

Ahhhem, might you please pass the crumpets.......

For a gal who enjoys most of her beverages from a blue Walgreens tumbler, just picking one of these goblets up to read the artist name on the bottom makes me feel a little bit elegant. And look at the kind of magic they create using their glass-work skills for these beautiful chandeliers.

Nice beak, Mister.

Brian Andreas is another great artist. His studio is in Decorah, Iowa and you'll see his work all over the country. I could stand and read the themes of his prints for hours. I picked this one out as a favorite this weekend because it reminds me of my daughter..........

I collect stars and shiny glass things that hang in my window and catch the light. Every time I work in a gallery, I choose another piece to bring home and hang in the window. I hope someday when I give them to my little granddaughter, she'll look at them and remember that Grandma Debbie taught her to love art and color.

So pretty in the light.

At the end of our first working day in Asheville, we were invited to the home of the gallery owner for a tour of his private gardens. I get all light-headed and speechless over flats of pansies and impatiens. You can just IMAGINE how much fun it was to walk in this beautiful place...all through the acres and acres of gardens are pieces of very unique sculptural art.

So THIS is what holly plants do in the spring..........

Because of the abundant shade provided by forests of old trees, woodland plants and hostas thrive in these gardens. Never too hot, never too cold. Never too light. And lots of moisture.

Yes, the garden not only sprawls for acres in every direction but it's also multi-level with little paths winding the way to every nook and cranny, many which have themes.

Inside the house, it's just as cozy and inviting. They really do "LIVE" the motto of their store. The home is just full of "art for living".

You've probably heard me say it before when I've returned home from a trip. It's true. Every time I walk in after one of these trips I set my suitcase down, look around at my own place and say to myself, "I've got to paint this place..........."

Busy, busy

2009-05-14T21:21:00.003-05:00

Meetin' myself coming and going this year. Crazy busy.
Worked in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago. Good show. Great weather.

Just finished up a class that had me waking up at 2 AM and staring at the ceiling. The course was stressful. But I've gotta tell ya, I spend every Tuesday night with a group of people that I'm crazy about. Last fall we all bunched up together for a picture.

Three of them have dropped. The remaining group rocks. They are awesome. I just love them to pieces. So smart. So interesting. Great life stories. Next to the diploma at the end of the whole deal, they're the best part. At the conclusion of every class we go out and celebrate.
Wayyyyy fun.

Last week one of my Sar's friends let me babysit. Tyler is an absolute doll. Charming. Cute as a little bug. This is he and my Binks having a bit of a chat. You may notice they are about the same size. Actually they are exactly the same size. Yup. They both weigh 23 pounds. I think in
this shot Tyler is establishing superiority by asking Binks to arm wrestle......knowing he'll win of course, because Binks doesn't have the critical component....opposable thumbs.

Yeahhh for sure. He's a sweetie. Grandma Debbie had such a great time with him!!!

So tomorrow morning I'm off to North Carolina for the weekend. The folks I'm working with down there tell me it's sunny and green. They are enjoying a fabulous spring. Should be a good weekend.

Lest you think all these activites leave me no time for relaxation.........au contraire. Last night I had dinner with a guy I used to date in high school. He's visiting his family, in from Vancouver, Oregon and we had a blast at one of the old pizza hangouts from wayyyy back when. Took him on a bit of a field trip around the city so he could see some of the old neighborhoods and how things have changed. Soo much fun and I wish he lived closer. Seems to be the time of life, such fun to renew old friendships.

And to learn new things. My little sportscar laptop is grossly UNDER used by an operator such as myself and I'm commited to learning more so that we can deepen our relationship and make use of all of the wonderful attributes which I have been assured, will make my life sooo much more simple.

We'll see.

In the meanwhile, a few baby steps toward that endeavor..............and my friend Donnie graciously consented to be the model for my most recent Paint program exercise. I thought he would make a great pirate. Avast, ye scoundrels!!!!!

Arrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Great Stuff Comes in Pink Packages

2009-05-11T21:21:00.006-05:00

Let me just quickly say...........this going to school and work and business-trip schedule is just about killin' me. And it doesn't help that this new laptop has a mind of it's own. The cursor is possessed and jumps all over the place, mid-sentence. WHERE IS MY YELLOW LEGAL PAD.....!!!!!!!!

And I'm soo soooo tired.
Thus I'll direct you past what has momentarily become something of a lifeless online spot to one that surely will fascinate you. My adventurous daughter has started her own blog so that her friends and family can keep track of her comin's and goin's. As you read, you'll realize what I mean...she's been on the road lots over the past few years and she's got plenty to write about.

This is my Sar.
She's not usually so....pink. Only for special occasions.

She's fun and I adore her. She's also a heck of a writer.
Drop in, check her out and tell her mama said hi.

www.tenaciousmakins.blogspot.com

It's H1N1, People. Now for heaven's sake, go out and buy some BACON

2009-05-01T21:47:00.006-05:00

We raise pigs around here. Lots of them. The pork industry is big-time in Iowa. If you grew up here like I did, you know lots about them.

No. You do not get the flu from eating pork.
You can fry bacon tomorrow and eat it all morning long and you won't get the flu. You can stuff ham into your sandwich. You can grind up sausage and spread it all over your pizza. Heck, you can kiss pigs all day long and you won't get the flu.

C'mon. You know I'm right. Don't tell me some of you haven't kissed a few over the years and lived to tell the story. Sheesh. Who hasn't. My best friend and I laugh about the night I came home and called her after a date a few years back. Seemed to be a good guy. Met him through friends.

"Did you like him?"
"Yeahhh, he seems nice enough."
"Well? Are you going to see him again??"
"Mmmm...I don't think so."
"And why not???"
"Look, I know this is dumb but when he kissed me good night I kind of had my hand behind his ear............and there was something back there."
"Something??!!! Like what KIND of somethng??"

I dunno what it was but I wasn't goin' back to find out.
It could have been a bug for all I know and for all I know that coulda turned out to be a beautiful relationship but a girl's gotta draw her line somewhere.
And mine is drawn just this side of suspicious entities lurking behind ears.

Eat Pork.
Cover your mouth when you cough.

And you out there....you know who you are......wash behind your ears.

Mike's Swearing-In

2009-04-22T19:40:00.005-05:00

A proud day for my son.

Multi-tasking and not so well

2009-04-20T20:45:00.004-05:00

I have a paper due tomorrow and I can't seem to get my thoughts together. Maybe it's because I know I'm working in San Francisco next weekend and I have so much to do before I fly out on Friday morning before the sun comes up. There are only so many directions this brain of mine can travel in one evening. I know I used to rock one baby in one arm, be changing the diaper of his brother, be stirring the morning oatmeal with a free hand and simultaneously letting the dog out for his morning poop. All this I swear to you I did and still managed to remain......well....haggard, worn, stressed and more than a little sensitive to comments like, "so what do you stay-at-home moms DO all day??"

So I'm sitting here a lifetime later, haggard, worn and stressed and there is not a baby or a pooping dog in sight. I'm Nair'ing my upper lip because the goofy little chick who works at my nail place said to me "You want wax? We do lips? You look like boy!" and god help me, I don't want to "look like boy!!!" not with the demand for haggard, worn, stressed divorced chicks with wrinkles and itsy bitsy bank accounts such as it is. And I'm trying to figurer out this paper. And I'm also paying some bills online.

How tough should it be? Outline the paper, fill in around the points and wrap it all up with a nice conclusion? Log on to the power company website, enter my username and password, enter the amount...click and a click and a credit card and double click...............all the while, making a list on a yellow legal pad of all the things I need to take with me to San Fran.

Well. You want to know what happened? Ok I'll tell you what happened. I burnt my lip. It's all red and puffy and swollen. Now I "look like boy who got hit with baseball on upper lip". And simultaneously I can't seem to even get points A and B to make one bit of sense for this research paper, thus there IS no research paper. And for the reasonable service charge of $4.75 I just paid the power company a total of 80 cents. That's right. I paid them EIGHTY CENTS and they charged me FOUR DOLLARS AND SEVENTY FIVE CENTS for the privilege of paying on line. Intending to pay them the full $80 bucks I owed them, I entered 8 and I entered 0 and didn't think to check for decimal points and stuff.

DID I see the disclaimer at the last moment that said something along the lines of "Warning, please be aware once you click "Approve" your payment can NOT be changed......"

Well yes. Fleetingly, yes I did see it. I saw it and I totally ignored it because I was wiping Nair off my damn lip at the time and I was watching Shawn Johnson kick ass on Dancing with the Stars and my cat was throwing up a leftover chocolate cupcake into one of my suede clogs and I just sort of spontaneously clicked which is what haggard, worn and stressed women do when they are multitasking and watching recycled cupcake fill their favorite shoes. Thus, I paid the power company 80 cents.

Yes, of course I can log back on and pay the $79.20 balance now due.
For another service charge???? Helllllllllllllllll no and can I get an AMEN from anyone to that???

I'm tired. Shawn did a nice job. Well heck of course she did a nice job...easy for her, she's young and adorable and has leg muscles that could squeeze open a coconut. Might as well face it, this paper just is NOT going to happen tonight and they're gonna shut my power off anyway, might as well go to bed...at least it'll be dark.

Tomorrow will be brand new day full of lovely possibilities.

Whew.......!!!!!

2009-04-18T17:52:00.012-05:00

I'm sitting here mindlessly watching Poltergeist II just because it's on. This is a very dumb movie. I know it's old but it's the first time I've ever seen it. Ok, maybe on the big screen it would be horrifying. Not so much this afternoon. I keep thinking, what a mean way to treat a nice little girl in cute red jammies. She should be having a nice bowl of ice cream and heading off to a bedtime story. Harry Potter is on later. Love that movie and it's just nice to be snuggled into my couch tonight doing not a thing.

My April roared in like a lion. First week Mike flew in with my little Victoria on Wednesday, Sar flew home from Portland on Thursday and my cousin Margie flew in from California on Friday. After a great girlie night we all got dressed up for Mike and Nikki's engagement party on Saturday night. Victoria was frilly and beautiful in her little black velvet and red satin dress and was prancing aorund my place like a princess. Grandma Debbie tried real hard to get that beautifully wispy reddish Welsh hair of hers knotted up top her head in a proper do but there are good reasons why we pay hair chicks to do that sort of thing. And her mommy is a fabulous hair chick! She's used to the best, no way I could match her magic. After a couple of false starts, we ended up with a very nice little pony tail with special-evening curls. Her little black velvet shoes and tights ("they're my PANTYHOSE, Grandma") were the finishing touch. It was pouring down rain when we left for the party. Watched the Princess dodge puddles as she ran with Aunt Margie into the party and made a mental note to email my best buddy John and thank him again for my favorite artsy-fartsy umbrella.

Mid-party the kids got on the DJ's microphone and made an announcement..........we have a surprise for you, we're getting married here tonight!.............and they rolled back a big, movable wall in the party lodge behind which was a nifty candlelit chapel set up. Nikki and Mike ducked out of the party for 10 minutes, changed into "Here comes the bride..." duds and right then and there, we had a wedding. Without the advantage of a proper wedding rehearsal all of the surprise attendants did a great job, including Victoria who accepted the official duties of Flower Girl with the royal finesse to which she was clearly born.

And lahh tee dahh and yada yada yada....I do, I do too.....smooch, smooch.....and we danced the night awayyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Victoria was right there on the floor, shakin' it with all of the other pretty girls. Click on the arrow below the video screen:

It was a fun night. An exhausting, perfect, fun, fun night. The next couple of days we spent just hanging out and having fun. Auntie Sara and Victoria spent some quality time together which included a 3-D movie that required wicked cool glasses.

Wednesday morning Victoria and I got in the car, drove to Omaha and we flew her home to Virginia where mom and Josh and Nana were waiting. I make this trip with her 3-5 times a year. Friends ask me if it isn't exhausting and wonder how she likes flying. Victoria is a seasoned traveler. She could give the pre-flight safety talk herself if the flight attendants would let her. And we just make a real fun Grandma Debbie and Victoria day out of it.

We laugh and draw pictures in the airports and we have fun on the plane.

This particular flight was not without incident. Earlier in the week, Princess Victoria discovered her first loose tooth.

She was so excited. She called Mom. She called Dad.

We watched it for 3 days and it got looser and looser............you guessed it. Somewhere over Michigan at about 30,000 feet the tooth came out. She kept trying to pull it and it was hanging by a thread so finally Grandma helped. And there it was.

I'd forgotten how tiny baby teeth are as I carefully wrapped it up in the corner of an envelope and tucked it into my purse so she could put it under her pillow for the tooth fairy. She told me that she thought the tooth fairy would probably leave her some jewelry. And cash. She was grinning and freshly toothless when the plane touched down in Norfolk.

I was sitting on the bed eating take-out Chinese in my airport hotel by 8, on a plane for home again at 6 the next morning, back to work Friday, helped clean at my moms house Saturday morning and babysat for some friends on Saturday night. (Are you still with me??)

Babysitting has certainly changed. When I got there little Aidan was already asleep upstairs and there was a little tv screen thingie in the living room where I could watch her and hear her all evening. As I sat on the couch and played with the dogs, I watched her stretch and dream and wiggle all over the crib, but she never woke up. It was the coolest thing!!! Watching a baby sleep on a little tv screen. AHHHHH-MAZING. (I'm showing my age, aren't I??) I was a little bummed. Never even got to hold the baby. But it was fun watching her wiggle and sleep on that little screen, kind of like a mini-movie next to the one I was watching on the bigger screen.

Sunday morning my David and his girlfriend invited me and the other kids over for brunch. Love it when the kids cook for me!!!! The two of them are a perfect match. They are both computer gamers. Although their dining table was cleared and nicely set for brunch, they tell me it's usually set with back-to-back computers and........as his sister tried to describe to me later this week........enough controllers and gaming props that it sort of looks like the flight deck of the Starship Enterprise in there. Over brunch he told us his job as a manager had been eliminated. He was offered a lateral position or a nice severance package. He took the package, he's got a plan, he's diving off into a brand new direction. Man but I DO love it that my kids are fearless. This mama was grinning allllllllllll the way home with her lovely Easter lily next to her in the front seat.

I spent the rest of Easter Sunday squeezing my cerebral cortex to it's maximum pressure all afternoon, trying to do my homework. I've got a B+ in this class right now and it's driving this A-lovin' girl crazy. Tuesday night was class. This bears yet another mention of advancing technology and my efforts to keep up with it. We don't hand in homework. We upload it. I know this will come as no surprise to anyone under the age of 40 I suppose, but it's a freakin' MIRACLE to me. No hard copies. No "my dog ate it" excuses. Nope. I just log on to the university website and UPLOAD MY HOMEWORK. If you don't know what that means..........well, if you don't know what that means you must be my age. I can't explain it. Somehow one minute it's HERE. And then after a few clicks and stuff....it's THERE. Honest, it gives me the willies just to say it. Like Big Brother is living in my living room...

Mid-week after Easter Sar drove in from Portland (having flown back after the wedding festivities and turned right around to bring her car back) after nine months living there, house sitting for a dear friend. She's in town for a couple of weeks and will be heading off to Tennessee where she'll be working as a counselor in an "outward bound" kind of program for at-risk kids. It's fun having her home even though she's got lots of places to be and we won't be seeing her much this visit. (That's one thing about raising really great kids who have lots of friends. When they grow up you have to be understanding and share them with the world. But I'll tell you what, the phone calls home and the postcards are great!)

Anyway, Monday I left work early, picked up Sara and drove North to a suburb to watch my son get sworn in as a police officer. Big week for him after getting married a few days earlier. Officer Mike is badge #101 and reports to the Iowa Law Enforcement Academy in a couple of weeks for training. He has assured me, should I speed in his town he will be obligated to give me a ticket. I have assured him if that ever happens I'll be so tickled to think he's my son standing there all handsome in his uniform that I will probably record the entire thing on my cell phone, ask him to wave hi into the camera and I'll get out of the car, flag down a motorist and ask them to take our picture together to remember the moment for posterity. And of course I will post it on my blog. So make sure that badge is polished at all times, Mister, yer gonna be in the movies.

This morning I got up at 5:30 to make my 6:30 AM Weight Watchers meeting. Had my new friend and classmate Janell not told me she'd be there and expect to see me, honest, I would have stayed in bed. It was a drippy, soggy kind of morning. The window was open. I could hear robins. The cat was snoring. It would have been so easy to just roll over and snuggle into that pillow. But I did not!!! Thank you for the peer pressure Janell!!!! Once I pried my eyes open and got going, it was a great morning. Got my hair cut and I feel cute as a button.

Now we rest. Seriously. I'm barefoot. Nothing going on tonight. Promised myself I won't even LOOK at my homework until 7 tomorrow morning. Feels kind of anti-climactic to tell you the truth, but next weekend I'm working in San Francisco so I suppose it's a good idea to just kick back. I can do that.

Just not for long, it seems. You'll remember I mentioned my buddy John earlier. One of his favorite phrases: I'll rest when I'm dead. I'm not going to wait that long, but I know what he means. It seems there is always just so much to do.

Gotta Start Takin' the Train.....

2009-04-11T07:37:00.002-05:00

This sort of thing hardly ever happens to me in airports...........

Takes me back......

2009-04-09T20:38:00.003-05:00

How many of us ran out and bought another Moody Blues disk after watching this commercial for the first time??

2009-03-25T21:06:00.000-06:00

Mama's got some brand new boots.

Suhhhweeeet!

When the gym can be hazardous to your health....

2009-03-21T15:08:00.006-06:00