Tornado Warning...Again

9:35 p.m. We're under a tornado warning...again. I was in the bathtub with Hannah when the tornado siren sounded. Yeah. I was ready.

Now we're all outside, listening to Carl's truck radio as rain lightly falls, thunder sounds, and dogs bark nearby. The Presbyterian church next door is a city shelter and I can see people in the light of the basement, waiting in fear.

"You need to be in your shelter right now. Do not wait. If you are in Labette county, please continue to stay in your shelters," the DJ is warning. "This is a very dangerous storm." We're in Labette county, but, well, yeah, yeah. I don't feel cavalier, just jaded. I went to the cellar once or twice in my youth for no reason. The cellar, with it's imagined snakes and spiders, frightened me more than the weather outside.

"You're blogging???" my girls continue to ask. Yeah, I'm blogging. I'm trying to capture this experience from the perspective of someone who has lived through hundreds of tornado watches and warnings.

"Buckle down. The Parsons police department has confirmed damage in Dennis, KS," the DJ just reported, a direct quote.

Heavy, heavy rains nearby and power is out. The safest place to be is in a basement, but we still sit outside, smack dab in the middle of Tornado Alley.

Hailey's fourth grade teacher just came over from the Presbyterian church because she saw us sitting outside. She wanted to see if I was watching the storm on my laptop (I was). Her son is a DJ on the radio station we're listening to, which they could hear from outside the Presbyterian Church. Small towns. I love it. We talked about the summer, about Hailey's new sunburn, about the turtles Katie had in a box, ready for a rush to shelter.

UPDATE. Our town has just been named as being in the line of the storm, with 70 m.p.h. winds. We'll see. The air remains eerily calm here. Hannah is laying on the concrete on her Spiderman beach towel with a pillow. She's nearly asleep amidst the danger.

It's now 10:19 p.m. an the all-clear siren is sounding, along with every dog in the neighborhood, to tell us the we are safe from tornadoes once again. I think I'll go inside, finish my gin and tonic, and relax. Whew. What excitement! Welcome to tornado alley.

Blue Girl Solo

What is it with Hannah and the color blue?

Katie and Hailey made their first summer trip to the pool with friend, Jenna, today. Hannah was still sleeping when I drove to pick up the big girls. When I returned, I asked Carl, "Is Hannah still napping?"

"I haven't really been in to check on her, but, yeah, I think she's still asleep." Sure enough, the house was quiet. About ten minutes later Hannah emerged from her supposedly silent room.

Have you heard of Blue Man Group?







Hannah's not nearly that cool, but she makes me laugh. Again. And again.

and her legs...





This time it's blue paint. Katie pushed a stepstool up to Hannah's closet to retrieve her swim suit from it's winter location on the top shelf. Katie left the stepstool, which Hannah later climbed to reach the blue paint. I think we'll be finding blue flecks in the tub for days to come.

School Year Summary

If I hadn't been painfully present for their births, I might not believe that my three daughters came from the same womb. Their differences have been a life lesson to me: I have less impact, power and control than I thought.

At the end-of-the year awards assembly Hailey received nine (count 'em--NINE) awards, including the annual citizenship award for her classroom (I'm happiest with that one: intellect is largely inborn, but citizenship is earned), the math award for having the highest math grade in fourth grade, the music award, and on and on. I'm proud of her, happy for her, hopeful for her. She strives to succeed and, if her Wii behaviour is any indication, she dislikes losing.

Katie couldn't care less. Give her a critter and she's happy.

Yes, folks, that's a crawdad. One of nine she caught that day. Nine seems to be the number around here.

Then there's Hannah. Sweet Hannah Savannah. I received her quarterly progress report. Her annual goals began November 30, 2007, so we are ¾ of the way there. The school doesn't count the summer months. She has already met her annual goal for physical therapy, which reads "In 27 weeks, Hannah will ascend and descend a small flight of stairs unsupported, marking time up and down on two out of three trials for two consecutive PT data days."

Her physical therapist wrote, "[Goal is] met. Hannah ascends and descends stairs unsupported, MT [does that mean 'most of the time?']. She is gaining confidence with this skill. Running, jumping, galloping have also improved." WOO-HOO!!

However, Hannah has regressed when it comes to following two-step directions. In March she was 60% complete with this goal, but as of May 15 her teacher wrote, "Hannah has dropped to 42% on this objective from the last nine weeks. When we give a direction, she will just look at us, or when I give a group direction and the group gets up to complete the direction, Hannah is still sitting. It does not seem to phase her that the others are up doing what they were told."

The teacher used snack time as an example of the direction-following process. When snack time is finished, she tells the students to throw away their milk cartons and go to their chairs in the adjoining room. While sixteen other preschoolers make a commotion chattering, pushing their chairs in and throwing away trash, Hannah sits and watches, unfazed. Her teacher has even continued class in the other room to see what Hannah would do. Nothing. She remains seated until someone tells her specifically to get up, throw away her trash and return to her seat. Grimace.

I've been trying to find a tidy way to wrap up this post, but it isn't flowing. School is over. Summer is here. More later...

The Healing Summer

BROKEN [broh-kuhn]
out of order, broken down, not working, busted, kaput, conked out, wrecked, had it, shattered, cracked, smashed, damaged, ruined, destroyed, defeated, dejected, crushed, dispirited, without hope

HEAL [heel]
cure, restore to health, make well, nurse back to health, mend, repair, make good, settle, patch up, reconcile, set right, restore, rebuild

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Summer provides me a better opportunity than January 1 to start anew, to gently move my life along a fresh path. One previous year I felt led to have a "hidden summer" during which I spent much time in seclusion (as much as I could get with three children and a husband), renewing my spirit and focusing on my priorities.

Summer 2008 will be The Healing Summer.

In the past these themes have taken on lives of their own and this year promises the same. For example, hiding can effect many aspects of life and can be both good and bad. Healing can be physical, mental or spiritual. I've already discovered pieces of my life to heal, parts that I didn't realize were broken, wounds that were scabbed over but not yet scarred.

What elements of your life need healing?

What a Week!

Last week was so crazy that I didn't write. I didn't read. I just made it through the week.

Today my last house guests departed and I'm breathing a sigh of relief. (Note to self: next year spend Memorial Day weekend without guests.) Carl's mom visited Monday through Wendesday, so I didn't post any blog entries. I feel rude when I bury my face behind my laptop screen and tap tap tap the keyboard when people visit, especially out-of-town guests. Besides, I wouldn't want my mother-in-law to know think that I sit on my butt writing while her son works hard for the money.

As this week progresses I plan to post entries about:

• my natural-gas-leak scare
• Katie's and Hailey's awards assembly, as compared to...
• Hannah's quarterly progress report
• a two-night visit by Carl's extremely-neat-and-clean sister and two kids and consequently...
• my love-hate relationship with living nearly three hours away from family and...
• what is the yardstick for your life?

I feel a rant coming on, so I'll stop there. I'm reeling from sharing my house with in-laws for the last week and need to get my bearings. Tonight I'm going into veg mode.

WONDER WOMAN!

I don't know if it's the regular excercise I've accomplished playing Wii tennis, sleeping unbelievably well (with a little help from a prescription...and the exercise), or being in the sunshine, but today I felt like a new person. I slept in and slept HARD until 9:30 this morning, something I don't recall doing since Katie was born. Maybe that's a slight exaggeration. When I awoke I felt refreshed rather than my usual slept-on-a-corncob-mattress-after-being-heavily-sedated morning feeling.

As a result of this unexpected energy, I bought groceries. When I arrived home I cleaned the strawberries, peeled and chopped the cucumber, prepared the canteloupe, then cleaned out the refrigerator to make room for the groceries, which I unloaded and put away. I know most women do that much every day, but that amount of work usually takes me two days and help from my family.

And that's not all. After I ate lunch, I cleaned up the kitchen and still had energy. Again, nothing for the average woman, but I felt like WONDER WOMAN!

Maybe Wonder Woman with a Komperdell cane and a Hoveround, but still WONDER WOMAN.

And that is still not all. Next I washed the Tahoe, Armoralled the running boards, scrubbed the raised-white-lettering on the tires with Comet, cleaned the insides of the Tahoe doors and wiped the entire vehicle dry. I even washed the windows.

Finally, I came inside to kick Carl's butt at Wii tennis. Actually, we're well-matched, so we both won a few matches. Afterwards I took a hot, soaking bath and crawled into bed with my computer to write, after which I hope for another deep sleep.

Today I glimpsed a bit of the girl who has been taken by RA. I miss her. I love her. I hope she comes around more often.

That's My Girl

When Hannah and I returned home from her preschool this morning, we sat together on the couch to flip through her new 2007-08 yearbook, which includes just under 240 students plus teachers and staff from preschool through fifth grade.

A group photo of the fifth grade band was shown on one of the first pages. When Hannah quickly noticed Jenna in the picture, I specifically tried to gauge how many people she recognized throughout the yearbook. We found Jenna and Katie in some snapshots taken at the Fifth Grade Christmas Dinner, identified Katie's, Hailey's and Jenna's individual photos, and Hannah even named, from memory, some former classmates who had graduated to kindergarten. She surprised me.

Because the yearbook began with the fifth graders and ended with the preschoolers, it took several minutes to finally reach Hannah's class. Unlike the other classes that had individual photos of each child, Hannah's class only had a group photo. Hannah pointed to and named several of her classmates by first and last name before I finally interrupted her to ask, "Where are you in the picture?"

"Uummm..." Looking. Looking. Where was Hannah? I finally spotted her smack dab in the center of the group.

Why didn't I see her?

Because, the seventeen other students looked at the camera with cheezy smiles or straight faces and held their hands in their laps or down at their sides. Hannah, on the other hand, gave the photographer a perfect profile shot of her face with her arms folded across her chest.

That's my girl.

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Note: I am dying to post that picture, because, well, it really is worth more than the measly words I used to describe it. However, I don't feel right about posting other children's faces on the Internet without their parents' permission.

Now That's Just Gross!

I should've known I was askin' for it, for some kind of karmic balancing, by gushing and bragging about my family and my great life lately. It's only 1:30 in the afternoon, and I'm ready for bed.

This morning Carl got Hannah out of bed at 6:00 a.m., then fell back asleep on the couch. He sleeps like the dead and I sleep with a fan going in the room because I sleep so lightly. Neither of us heard Hannah fixing herself some breakfast. Not cereal. Not a piece of bread. Not even a glass of milk. She ate and smeared an entire container of peanut butter. We had greasy peanut butter on the kitchen floor, on cupboards, and on the sheets where she left the all-but-empty jar. Peanut butter everywhere. Ugh.

Later, when I checked my bank accounts online, I discovered I had failed to write in a Two-thousand-five-hundred dollar credit card payment I had scheduled. Can you say "overdraft?"

The last karmic-balancing-straw occurred when I picked up Hannah from school. For a little history, I need to explain that Hannah's teachers informed that they wouldn't be doing anything new for the rest of the school year. Therefore, I didn't need to attend her class unless I really wanted to.

"It won't matter if she's inattentive?"

"Nah. We're just reviewing and finishing up from here on out." As a result, I didn't observe her 10:30 seatwork craft project which involved finger painting. You may think you know how this ends, but believe me. You couldn't possibly guess.

As Hannah's teacher buckled Hannah into her car seat, I asked Janet, the speech therapist, if today went any better than Monday. Janet walked towards me and gave me the so-so look, then said to the other teachers, "We should probably tell her about it."

"Yeah, we should," another teacher said. Silence. I thought my meetings-at-the-schoolhouse-door had ended when they told me I didn't need to attend her seat work sessions. What could this possibly be?

"We used white paint for some finger painting," Anne said. I immediately looked at Hannah's clothes, assuming they had been ruined by paint. No white paint. Anne continued, "We took Hannah into the bathroom to wash her hands with some other kids. After she soaped up, she rinsed her hands...um...in the toilet."

In the toilet?! I laughed out of nervousness, but noticed no one was laughing with me. Feeling even more nervous, I said something like, "That's not what we do at home." Brilliant. After some hmming and see-you-tomorrow, and you-might-want-to-watch-out-for-that-at-home, Anne actually said, "Well, there's never a dull moment."

Don't I know it.

Wii Love You, Mom!

I had, by far, the best-ever Mother's Day out of my 11+ years of mommyhood.

First, I slept in and slept hard. I didn't realize how much of my grumpiness and brain fog was due to sleep deprivation. We went to late Mass, then out to eat lunch in Chetopa where I had some unexpectedly good grilled salmon.

While we waited for our lunch to be served, I overheard several conversations that made me wish I had a pencil and paper to record small-town thought processes: The tornadoes had wiped out the south side of Chetopa the previous evening; someone's daughter had her baby--the baby didn't care whether or not there was a tornado; and a waitress yelling across the restaurant to the kitchen to ask "What kind of soup do we have today?" are three snippets of conversations shared across the restaurant. These were not private conversations held amongst patrons at a single table.

After we finished lunch we contemplated driving to see the devastation in Picher, Oklahoma, but decided not to contribute to the confusion and drove home instead. Katie and Hailey seemed especially excited to give me my Mother's Day gifts.

At home we changed out of our church clothes. Hailey said, "I'm going to check the mailbox to see if we have any mail." I'm notorious for not getting my mail from the mailbox, so this was not an unusual thing for Hailey to do on a Sunday. Slamming the door, she hollered, "Mom, there's one thing for you."

"Oh? Who's it from?" I asked as I transferred clothes from the washer to the dryer.

"You'll just have to see," she said mysteriously as she handed it to me. It was from her. Very cute.

"Alright. Let's all go sit in the living room so I can open my gifts."

I opened Hailey's mailbox letter first and found this card:

It says, "2 4 6 8 This [is] the day you sleep in late (and you kinda did)." Inside the heart reads "Wii love you MOM." The details are cute, but mostly only to a mom, so I won't gush on and on.



Next, Hannah gave me her card, which Carl had helped her make:









I didn't get it until Carl explained. He had traced Hannah's hands on each side of the heart-shaped card and wrote, "These are my hands clapping cause your my mom." If I opened and closed the heart quickly, it made the traced hands clap. Very original, as was some of the spelling.

After I finished clapping Hannah's hands, Katie and Hailey each gave me some Mommy tickets (or tickits depending on the giver):

Hailey signed all of her tickits for authenticity, informing me that they cannot be duplicated for reuse. In all I received about sixteen tickets, most (but not all) of them included the words "without complaint," as well as an expiration date. Wonderful intentions, but we'll see. I'm a realist.


Next I received Katie's card:





I asked, "Do I see a theme here?" Surely they wouldn't think of giving me a Wii for Mother's Day. I intended to "ask" for one for my June birthday, but would they really think of it on their own, without my constant reminders over the next month? You all know I want one because of this post, and some know that I've wanted one since I heard that a few care homes were using them as exercise for their patients. But, Carl or Katie or Hailey? Nah.

Wrong! I GOT A Wii! Yippee for the Wii!!!

Since Sunday I have already increased my tennis skill level and raised my heart rate several times for the first time in years.

Thanks family. I love you, too.

Welcome to Tornado Alley

Late Saturday afternoon, after the Lange family left, I battled my locked-up computer while keeping an eye on the television. Every five or ten minutes the local television station beep-beep-beeped, interrupting regular programming so the weatherman could warn us of the coming storm. With the entire area under a tornado watch, the map on the screen lit up with bright reds and greens.

I looked over my computer screen to see Carl putting on his shoes. "Are you going somewhere?" I asked.

"I'm taking Hannah fishing. Is that OK with you?"

"Sure."

After he left the room the tornado watch became a tornado warning for our county. "Doppler has indicated rotation in the clouds above Altamont. Seek shelter immediately. Smallville is directly in the line of this storm," the weatherman said and continued by telling the viewing area to abandon their cars, go to a basement or small interior room, and never try to outrun a twister. I hobbled outside to talk with Carl about the tornado. It wasn't even raining here.

"I think you should wait a few minutes before you leave. The weatherman said there's rotation above Altamont, headed here to Smallville."

"Ah, it's not going to rain," he said, "but I'll wait." Living through dozens of tornado warnings over the years has left us dangerously insensitive, more fascinated than fearful.

Inside, I told the girls to find their shoes and a flashlight, but felt no fear. Only electric excitement. They gathered an odd assortment of toys into a shoebox, then carried them outside where we stood under the upstairs deck and watched the first sprinkles of rain fall.

"I'm scared," Hailey said, which put a spark of fear in Hannah's eyes.

"Don't say S-C-A-R-E-D or someone else will get S-C-A-R-E-D too. I'm not scared. This is exhilarating!"

The Smallville tornado whistle began blowing, the wind waved the trees precariously, and the rain poured down in sheets. "I'm sceh-wd," Hannah said.

"This isn't scary. It's fun," I said as I picked Hannah up.

"Shouldn't we go to the storm shelter?" Katie asked.

"Nah," I replied as I watched Carl, wearing his camo rain gear, use the rain water to help him sweep the patio with a yellow-bristled shop broom.

The next five minutes passed in strange anticipation, hoping for and dreading the potential thrill at the same time. Thankfully our small town experienced very little damage, unlike Picher, Oklahoma, which was leveled by a twister from this same storm cell.



Within ten minutes, the sun shone again and rain sprinkled so lightly I'm not sure I wasn't merely feeling droplets falling from the leaves overhead. Carl and Hannah left for the pits. While they fished, Katie, Hailey, and I ate popcorn for supper and watched the movie Enchanted.

On Air Conditioning and Armadillos

What a WEEKEND! Ashley, Ed, their four children, and Ed's brother, Craig, arrived Friday evening around 8:30. Ed is an engineer with a major heating and air company. Craig specializes in running the pipes for A/C, but I don't know the technical name for his profession. They installed the air conditioning for the building project Friday evening while the kids roamed the neighborhood (ok, maybe I'm exaggerating) and Ashley and I looked through some clothes given to me.

Earlier that afternoon the inside of my house resembled Picher, Oklahoma after the tornadoes hit so I morphed into demon mommy, turning my head 360 degrees and spewing my demands so that we could have a pleasant evening with the Lange family. That makes perfect sense, doesn't it? I wanted so badly to overcome our redneck status, especially in the eyes of my sister. However, the beautiful landscaping in my front yard does not cancel out the three non-functioning boats, two bicycles and one armadillo in our back yard.







Yes, armadillo. While Katie played on the back patio with two-year-old Gianna, an armadillo scampered around the southwest corner towards the garage. The way Katie tells it, she barely jerked Gianna from the giant armadillo in time. Thank goodness. My yarrow plants in the same southwest corner have looked like a basketball landed in them too many times, but as it turns out, the armadillo had made it's nest there. Yuck.

When I awoke at 8:30 Saturday morning (much later than usual) Ashley had washed the sheets, mopped my kitchen floor and picked up the house. She's almost eight months pregnant. Thanks, Ash. Craig and Ed went fishing in their fully functional bass boat early Saturday morning at the nearby pits that were created by 16-storey-tall Big Brutus . They returned from their fishing trip, we all ate lunch, and they left before 2:00. What a whirlwind.

Speaking of whirlwinds, some very destructive tornadoes tore through southeast Kansas, northeast Oklahoma and southwest Missouri that evening. I'm glad my family left early enough to miss the excitement. I'll save that for my next post...

As Mother's Day Approaches

I could fill this blog with countless stories of the times I have screamed at my daughters, of the (gasp) spankings they have received. I've never EVER called them stupid...or any name for that matter...but they have incurred my wrath. I cringe.

But today I read a quote on Tara's blog that says:

“If you want your children to improve, let them overhear the nice things you say about them to others.” ~ Dr. Haim Ginott (Author and psychotherapist, 1922-1973).

When I read this I remembered an afternoon about five years ago when my mom and sister were visiting. As we three women yakked in my bedroom, the windows opened to allow one of the first spring breezes to air out the house, I noticed Katie walking barefoot from the front yard to the back just outside the bedroom window. I interrupted my conversation with Mom and Ashley, raised my voice, and said something specific and positive about Katie as if I didn't realize she was just outside the window.

I don't recall now what I said. It's irrelevant. I remember clearly how Katie stopped walking to look towards the window where she heard her name and "overhear" her mother say how terrific she was. Afterwards she continued to the back yard with a spring in her step and a new spirit.

Again, I reiterate, I am plagued by the times I have fallen short as a mother. But this is one moment of which I am proud.

Tuesday Tranquility Teamed with Gratitude

My Tranquil Tuesdays™ conclude just after my Tuesday babysitter, C, graduates from high school on May 17. She has agreed to babysit for two more Tuesdays, after which she goes on a 3-week tour of the U.S. with the singing group Highest Praise. She has other obligations after touring, then she begins her college career. Has it really been more than twenty years since since I viewed life from that perspective?

C began babysitting when Sheri and I decided to take a Creative Writing course together at the local community college. The class met Tuesday nights and jump-started my friendship with Sheri. After the college class ended, I kept C so that I could also keep my sanity. I home schooled at the time and desperately needed a slice of time to call my own. Now that the girls are in public school, the desperation has receded. I may or may not try to replace C. We'll see how the summer goes.

Tonight I'm spending one of my final Tranquil Tuesdays™ at the library with Van Morrison's Moondance playing through my Bose headphones on my laptop.

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic.

I'm experiencing extreme nostalgia at the moment, feeling very lucky, very blessed. I spent so much self-pity this past winter that, hopefully, the account is dry and replaced by a Gratitude Fund. Moondance takes me back to my dating days with Carl. As a partner in a car stereo company, he had a rockin' sound system (very important in my early twenties). We would crank Van Morrison, smoke a little and head to the lake for a weekend of water skiing, sun and crazy fun with friends. Or maybe to Tahlequah, Oklahoma with our dog, Colonel, to canoe down the Illinois river and camp in a tent alone.






Evenings like this help me to regain perspective, to refresh my point of view. I'm not the first to look in the mirror and realize that the person in the reflection does not resemble the spirit behind the face. My body has aged faster than most, but in my mind's eye I am still the same.

My soul becomes younger every time I appreciate my blessings, so I am spending this moment enumerating my blessings:

1. My dad and his new wife spent a week in southeast Kansas so that they could help me repaint my sad, sad kitchen cupboards and walls. This was prior to my blog, so it didn't live here in infamy. (Maybe I will dig out photos and post them for posterity.)


2. My mom has contributed more to the beauty of my home through her painting and sewing skills than I have with my skills. (Why didn't you pass on that gene, Mom???)


3. I didn't marry R. (OK, this is WAY out of chronological order, but I'm going with chain of thought here.)


4. I DID marry Carl. He pushes all my buttons, but sometimes that's a good thing.


5. Dave and Matt helped with the Building Project just when we needed it.


6. My sister married someone who earned an engineering degree and is a partner in a major Heating and Air company (just when we needed heat and air...thanks Ash & Ed).


7. Just so you know, my sister has a degree of her own and chose to spend her education on her family.


8. Liz began cleaning my house years ago and has become one of my best friends and my counsellor. I joke that I should really be paying her $120 per hour when she's here to clean.


9. C has been a splendid babysitter.


10. Sheri asked me to take that Creative Writing class with her, and later invited me to visit her sister in Pompano Beach, Florida with her...and all the fun in between and since.


11. I have new landscaping that is as beautiful as some I've seen in magazines for small yards...in my humble opinion.


12. I moved to this small town as a complete stranger just over ten years ago and now I would struggle mightily with a decision to move "back home."

I could--most definitely--add to this list, but you get the idea. I'm ever so slowly recognizing that my life is what I look at. I could (and have) looked at my body, that is crippled by rheumatoid arthritis; at my daughter who has a congenital brain defect; at every little--and big--negative element of my life. In fact, my daughter-with-a-congenital-brain-defect is this moment screaming in her sleep, distracting me as I type. Nevertheless, much of my life is determined by what I look at. Yes, I know my sentence is grammatically incorrect, but my intention is spot-on.

I'm hoping I can continue Tranquil Tuesdays™ partially by focusing on gratitude. It sounds lofty, even a little out of my reach. But as summer awaits, I'll keep that as my intention.

I just hope my summer intentions prove more fruitful than those at Christmas.

Irongirl Silliness

This past Friday I picked up Katie, Hailey and Jenna (Sheri's fifth grade daughter) from school and waited in Sheri's driveway until she finished work. Hannah and Carl stayed home. As soon as Sheri returned home she changed her clothes and carried her shoes to jump into the Tahoe so we could race to a 4:00 movie in Parsons.

We bought our tickets, popcorn and colas just in time to find a seat and watch the last preview before Ironman began. I enjoy any kind of movie except stupid comedy like Dumb and Dumber or Drillbit Taylor (I had to look up those titles online because I am so unfamiliar with the movie genre); however, at two hours and twenty minutes in length I was concerned that Ironman would plod along and bore me with too much shoot-em-up-bang-bang and too little plot. Not to mention I questioned how Robert Downy Jr. could look the part of a superhero after abusing his body with drugs for decades.

I liked it! Only one scene prompted the girls to ask, "Should we close our eyes, Mom?" I answered yes, though the "damage" had already been done. The plot moved quickly and some one-liners that made me laugh went over the girls' heads (thank God). Afterwards we asked the girls if they would be interested in pursing robotics. "You could all be Irongirls!" we suggested, though I think we were more interested in the idea than they were.

After a fun girls day out we all went home. Sheri e-mailed some high school friends whose friendships she has recently rekindled, telling them that Ironman was worth seeing, even going so far as to suggest that the computer friend should make her an Irongirl suit in the computer lab. What do you think?

What I really want to know is: what are those two brown things sticking out of her head?

It's been suggested that I not post this picture. The Chinese government could use it against us. Or would it be Korea? Seems I can't keep track of all of our enemies. In any event, we could all be in danger.

The last names of the trio e-mailing each other about the movie are Goodnight, Power and Black. Goodnight is straight out of a James Bond movie and Black and Power fit right in. You guys are cracking me up!

This is my silliness for the day. After the f-u-l-l weekend, I'm enjoying some down time.

Landscaping "After" Photos: A Job Well Done

I had originally planned to retire early tonight and create this blog post in the morning. My previous blog posted on May 1 included "before" landscaping photos that I published only so Wonderworker Extraordinaire could quickly have access to pictures of my house. Publishing them on my blog was easier for me than e-mailing the photos.

Unexpectedly, BlogHer included that post, fraught with ugly, real-time pictures of my front yard, as one of the four "health-related" links included under their ad. AAAaaggh!!! Now I feel pressured to publish the "after" pictures as quickly as possible.

Here's a reminder of my front yard as of May 1, 2008...

YUCK! I had intentionally left my front yard unfinished as I waited to install new gutters and pursued building project completion. New seamless gutters were installed earlier this year, then damaged by the ice storm, then re-installed after we received a generous insurance settlement.

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Now for a little insight into mom's and my vegetation expedition this past Saturday. After ten years without landscaping, I had spent many hours perusing magazines and honing my front-yard aspirations. I've always wanted a Japanese Maple, which I planned to place in the big white gap pictured here:

However, the least expensive Japanese Maple of any size larger than a twig cost upwards of $100. Because I wasn't even certain I could keep the foreign tree alive, I remembered how much I love Redbud trees every spring & chose that indigenous tree instead (only $35).

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Below is a picture of Wonderworker Extraordinaire and Carl digging holes for the liriope (a.k.a. Monkey Grass) that mom provided from the excess in her own flower beds. The Redbud is in the background.

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OK OK. Following is the real "after" picture:

Not bad, huh? I still need to clean up the brick and repaint it, but the flower bed is a HUGE improvement to the dirt pile placed there previously.

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I purchased a Japanese Maple after all (albeit a small one) and replaced the mum & purple pansies originally placed in this pot.

Oh, Gawd, you can practically see up my shorts.

That reminds me of a time when I visited my grandmother in the care home after her stroke. Prior to her stroke, she was--to my knowledge--pure and proper. No dirty jokes. No off-color remarks. (I have since learned that she and my Aunt Gin, her sister, would give each other girly giggles on occasion...I guess with a name like "Gin" what would you expect.)

ANYHOO when Mom and I visited Grandma Angie that hot, summer day we sat outside together in our shorts and tank tops. Mom had her leg lifted similarly to mine in the picture above while carrying on a one-sided conversation with her stroke-damaged mother.

Out of the blue, Grandma Angie said, "Heeere kitty kitty kitty."

I looked at mom and asked, "Did she say what I think she said???" I was all of twenty and still pretty sure my mom and her siblings arrived in this earth via some kind of Catholic virgin birth.

Mom said, "I think so," and we laughed until we cried.

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Back to the present. Remember this photo?

Here's my front porch now (did I tell you that Carl carved the Welcome Bear?)...

...and the view just to the left of it....

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Mom, Katie and Hailey:

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Do you know about the pre-emergents you can sprinkle on your flower bed to prevent weed growth, like one with the brand name "Preen"? Worth EVERY penny. Ashley, if you have read this far, I've taken a picture from the back of my pre-emergent's bag to indicate how thickly it should be applied. Based on the application I observed on your flower bed, you shouldn't have weeds until the year 2020.

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One more picture of Hannah in front of my new "Ivory Halo Dogwood" bush.

Carl and I next to my new Redbud tree. I can't wait to see it's blooms next spring!

Landscaping "Before" Photos

Wonderworker Extraordinaire (my mom) will be spending the weekend with us, a visit during which we hope to tackle the front flower bed. At the very least we will draw a plan. Hopefully we will even plant a few shrubs.

Mom: Here are the pics you requested. I'm embarassed to post this ugliness for all the world to see, but all the world doesn't visit my blog. I'm safe.

This photo is basically useless, but it gives you a little idea of scale...and a shot of Hannah Savannah. Oh--the space between the south end of the porch and the south (yes, south...what was I thinking?) end of the window pictured above measures 12' 8".

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More shots of Hannah...

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I wish you could see the flowers on this spirea. It's going to be beautiful in the next 24 hours!

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The width of the green brick under these windows is 7 feet.

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The space between the windows (from edge of green brick to edge of green brick) is 13 feet.


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The width of the green bricks under this window is 9' 3".

The height from the ground to the bottom of the green brick under the window is 34".

The height of the porch is 16".

And see that lone dirt smudge to the right of the window about halfway between the ground and the bottom of the window? Those are squirrel tracks. The squirrels climb the brick to traverse the window ledge and jump onto the squirrel-proof bird feeder you can barely see hanging in front of the window. #&%$ squirrels!

Just a Few Notes

I don't have my thoughts together well today, so here it goes.

• My mother-in-law visited Monday through Wednesday and helped me complete my laundry again. I am blessed.


• Katie is home from school today. I'm not sure what's wrong, but she has spent the entire morning sleeping.


• I played tennis on Sheri's new Wii and now I must have my own!


• My mom is visiting this weekend. We plan to do some landscaping and maybe some painting. (Mom: I'll post those pictures after I pick up Hannah from school. OK?)


• I have another doctor appointment tomorrow with my gastroenterologist. When his office called to confirm the appointment, I asked how long it would last. The answer: 15 minutes. I replied, "I live one hour away, I have three children (one with special needs) and my own disability. Plus, the price of gas is ridiculous. If you are asking me to travel for two hours so you can give me information that can just as easily be transmitted in a letter or e-mail, I'd rather not make the trip." We'll see what happens.


• Today is piano lesson day. I'm driving. Sheri's driving record will remain safe for one more day.


• I received a comment to my last post from an educator in Canada who wants information about Dandy-Walker. Any of you Dandy-Walker parents--please give me some input! (Note to Julie: I haven't forgotten you!)


• We have three baby birds in our eaves. It sounds like there are twelve of them and they're driving me nuts.


• I spent most of yesterday UN-installing my printer so that my computer would run more quickly. Success! (Laurie: sorry about the cryptic e-mail. I'll send out a better one soon, now that I've solved my computer dilemma)

So much for honing my creative writing skills. Happy Thursday!