Listening to Granny

I picked up a tub of mementos, from Mom, over Christmas break. Among the treasures...beautiful pearl earrings amy Granny was wearing during her funeral service. I honored her today by wearing them. The whole day, I expected to hear hear speaking to me through the earrings. I have the utmost faith in this. Today was not without anxiety. I anticipated several challenges during the workday. I fretted during the entire drive to work, but felt calmed when someone asked me to help them. Maybe it was Granny, "talking" to me through the earrings at that point. The remainder of the day progressed much more smoothly than I had anticipated, and the ride home was blessedly uneventful.

Blessings and peace to all this new year.

Procrastination

I'm procrastinating a project that I started Wednesday afternoon in the car. Now, at 8:00 this evening, I swore I would get it finished...but then the snowy driveway called to me for a good shoveling before morning. Sigh. Here it is, nearly two hours later, and I'm BLOGGING for crying out loud.

Peace out~

Not a threat...outside of her neighborhood.

Yes, yes, the Laura storm is only sub-tropical now. Regardless, the family and I had a hoot this morning envisioning myself as an actual, Tasmanian devil type of whirling dervish of a storm. Of course, if tropical storms made a "SEE-N-SAY" sound, it would be the following...according to my family, anyway:

"Get out of bed, Mon! Get up and wash the stink from your pits, Mon! Quit picking your nose, Mon! Do you want a fork for dat, Mon? What's wrong wich you, Mon? Can't you see you be knocking me down wich your death breath, Mon? Holy mother of Marley, Mon! For the love of Bob, Mon! Get outta da bed before I get me squirt gun, Mon!"

My, how they've grown

As you will note from the picture, the bunnies have grown quickly in the last week. I checked on the nest early this morning, and it appears as though they have moved on to start a life of adventure! Maybe they will visit during the holidays.....

A moment of wonder

Lately, when I've been cutting the grass, it seems as though the moments have been melancholy. Today, thankfully, was more joyful. We have a small, fenced area in our back yard. Our dog, Lucy, has a favorite tree out there, and can occasionally be found lounging in the shade of the tree.


We've known for some time about the rabbit who hangs out in our yard. Surprisingly, Lucy doesn't bother the rabbit...doesn't chase it, bark at it, or otherwise torment it. Lucy is advancing in years, and hasn't chased little critters for quite some time. Nevertheless, if I were a rabbit, I think I'd stay away from a house with a dog. Just in case.

I cut the grass in a bit of a rush this afternoon. Trying to get it done before hubby starting grilling dinner, and before I had to prepare for my trip this week. The fenced area in the back yard is my least favorite spot to mow. The grassy patch within the fence is round, defying my need to create clean, ninety degree angles in the grass. As I was finishing the last little patch, I noticed a small area covered with a mixture of fur and dried grass. I continued my path, not realizing that piece of earth was moving...breathing, almost...until I finished and had shut off the mower. On my way back through the fence, I noticed some movement under the fur and dried grass. Carefully, I pulled the fur away, and noticed a nest of kits. After I made sure they were okay, I ran into the house to let the kids and hubby know what I'd found.

The bunnies seem to be stacked on top of each other in the nest. We didn't want to move them, so we won't know for a while just how many there are. My daughter ran back into the house to google for more information on litter size, diet, etc. What we learned is that a little can be anywhere from two to ten kits. Mama rabbit was nowhere to be found, but hubby thinks he saw her in the neighbor's yard about an hour prior to finding the kits. My daughter and I are trying to entice the mama to stay with her babies, so we got busy shredding carrots, gathering dandelion greens and clover, and setting out a small container of water. We aren't sure what will happen next, but whatever it is should be exciting.

Thank you, Lucy, for surrendering your favorite shady spot for the time being. We should have named you St. Francis.

Dual funerals and the "cheese touch"

Some of you may already be aware of my maternal grandmother's passing last month. She had been ill for quite a while, and was laid to rest on Mother's Day weekend. On Wednesday of this week, I received a phone call that my maternal grandfather had suddenly passed away. It was quite a shock for the family, as he had seemed to be doing well and keeping busy since my grandmother's death. So, for the second time in a month, the family gathered in Arkansas to mourn the passing of another beloved family member.

Since most of the youngest family members are scattered throughout the midwestern and southern portions of the U.S., the kids were a little shy around each other during my grandmother's funeral. However, they all seemed a little more at ease around each other during my grandfather's funeral. By the time dinner was coming to a close on Friday, my daughter and my nephew had started a game of "cheese touch" tag in the restaurant. For those of you not familiar with the "cheese touch," I believe it is referenced in the book _Diary of a Wimpy Kid_. My daughter and nephew were discussing their favorite parts of the book prior to starting "cheese touch tag." The game of tag made its way through two tables of our family, and even included a couple of confused wait staff at the restaurant. Once everyone at our tables started crossing fingers to show immunity to the "cheese touch," we decided to call it a night.

The next morning, at the funeral, the casket was opened at the end of the service to allow one more public viewing prior to the burial.

My cousin's son, being one of the youngest children in attendance that weekend, gave our grandfather the "cheese touch" before the casket was closed.

My grandparents enjoyed their family, and loved it when we were all able to come in for a visit. They were also both active people, and I belive they would have enjoyed seeing their family playing this friendly game of tag. My cousin's son understood this, I think, and passed on the "cheese touch" so we could all play together in Heaven.

I seem to have aquired matching peace lilies as a result of the funerals. They have been given a places of honor on our front porch. I have decided to name them Granny and Boo. When I water them, or repot them, or mist the leaves, I will also tag them (from time to time) and say "cheese touch" so we can keep the game going.

Evil neighbor, part 3

Quick update: He has, so far this week, mowed his lawn TWICE! I supposed my mission has been accomplished. Or, perhaps, his mission is to get me to mow MY lawn twice. Drat!

Evil neighbor, part 2

Okay, I think my neighbor was mowing three days earlier than usual because of a line of storms coming through our area this week. I'll know if this is a competition, for sure, the next time he mows his lawn.

Evil neighbor, part 1

Any neighbor who makes lawn mowing or general lawn care a competition is evil.

Since the grass has been long enough to mow, our neighbor has had the following maintenance done on his lawn:
1. deck washed and possibly restained.
2. lawn seeded
3. pesticide applied
4. decorative rock rearranged

Needless to say, our neighbor is retired and has the means to enhance his yard. I have no problem with either of those two facts. Heck, if a little extra grass seed blew into our yard by accident, I'd have no problem with that, either.

However, a few weeks ago, we were out of town for several days. Prior to our trip, I cut our grass three days earlier than usual so I wouldn't have an unsightly yard when we returned. I'm thinking I have inadvertantly thrown down the proverbial gauntlet, because he has mowed his yard a day earlier than me for a couple of weeks since then.

One afternoon last week, we were mowing our yards at the same time. Pratically side by side for the adjacent parts of our back yards. Sigh.

Today, he is mowing his yard THREE DAYS EARLIER THAN USUAL. I don't really have time to mow this evening, or tomorrow. This is probably what he was wanting...a spectacular looking, closely cropped carpet of green...made all the more attractive because of our dandelion ridden jungle.

I'm seriously contemplating a quick mowing tonight to see if he will start mowing twice a week. >:}

Hair liquid?

I took H. on a walk to the community grocery store, this morning, to pick up a newspaper. I figured it would do us some good to walk, instead of take the car. It was fairly warm outside, and H. was wearing long pants, so of course he became hot after only a short walk.

He starts to complain about melting. Over and over.

I tell him he is doing fine and we are almost to the store. I tell him we can stop at the town square after we get our paper. We can sit on a shaded bench and read the funnies together before we walk home.

He tells me he REALLY IS MELTING!

I tell him he is only sweating.

He SWEARS he is really melting now. He tells me to feel his "hair liquid." He takes my hand, places it on the top of his head, and moves my hand around in the hair. He takes my hand off, and shakes it at me.

"See? Don't you see my hair liquid?"

Hmmmmmm. I got nothing here. Not an ounce of anything on my hand. However, I acknowledge that he probably could use something cold to drink when we get back home. After our trauma is solved, maybe we can sit down and read the funnies.

Countdown to the DNC (initial reaction)

I'm miffed at the Hill-ster for agreeing to one thing at the beginning of the primary season, and then fighting to seat the delgates at this point of the primary.

Shame, shame.

Watching the post seating decision news reports, and seeing how emotional Michigan and Florida citizens are about the decision, really causes me to wonder about the precedent our country is setting.

WOW!

http://www.forbes.com/feeds/ap/2008/04/18/ap4906397.html

Apparently, no one in our house noticed any movement. However, some of hubby's co-workers did feel some tremors. The last earthquake I remember was in 1970-something. Mom, do you remember that one?

On the road. Again.

Sigh. I can count on one hand the number of days I'll be sleeping in my own bed this month. Since we no longer subscribe to satellite radio, I've done some scanning for compelling commentary throughout the state. Top picks are:

FM DIAL
Q101 - Chicago. Specifically, Electra's Last Letter Game. WOOT!

MBI 90.1 - Chicago. Good for keeping me calm during heinous traffic snarls. Interesting movie review commentary.


ANYWHERE ON THE DIAL - Statewide. Local swap shop programs. I love the mumblers and the hearing impaired callers in equal measure. On a particularly long driving trip, I can pick up consecutive stations for most of the day.

WNIJ 89.5 - Straight up I-39. Diane Rehm and Neal Conan are the best!


AM DIAL
www.1590waik.com - Galesburg. Dave Ramsey keeps it real, ya'll!

TURN IT ON AND TURN IT UP!

Current food obsession

Those of you who know me know I am not a fan of Wal-Mart. However, I had to stop in the store over the weekend to pick up a few things. I noticed they have started stocking Great Value brand organic soy milk in 2 quart containers. I'm always on the lookout for the best tasting chocolate soy milk, so I purchased a carton. I opened the carton when I got back to my car, and finished half the carton before I pulled into my driveway.

YUM-O!

Death to trolls

The family went to see Spiderwick Chronicles a few weeks ago. Of course, I have been having dreams about trolls appearing in and around our toilet. In my dreams, I've been knocking them off with a wooden handle from a toilet plunger, but they persist. If you have any ideas on how to keep them from coming back (again, these are dreams I'm talking about), please feel free to share.

Passing the torch

It is official...my son can also inflate a balloon with his nose. My daughter can play "Ode to Joy" on the recorder with her nose. Is this a dominant gene? Hmmmmmmm.....

Joke telling, Asperger style

H: Mom, I want to tell you a joke.
me: Okay, I'm ready.
H: If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you? (he laughs) Isn't that funny?
me: What? That isn't a joke.
H: Okay. If you had a friend named Cliff, would you jump off him?
me: (chuckling) Uh, was that your joke?
H: Yea! Wasn't it funny? (he laughs)
me: Uh.....(trying not to smile)
H: Okay, here is another one! If all of your friends were named Cliff, would you jump off them? (he is laughing hysterically)
me: (laughing now, at the absurdity of this)
H: (encouraged by my laughter)If you were named Cliff, would your friends jump off you? If your friends were named Cliff, and they were on a cliff, would they jump off themselves? If your friends.....

On and on it goes, for roughly 20-30 minutes, because he doesn't know how to stop.

Thanks for coming to the comedy club. Don't forget to tip your waitresses!

You may not know him by name, but he has probably already hugged you.

At least one hallmark of autism is some type of sensory problem. This, you will find, can manifest in several different ways. For example, some people can't deal with loud noises, while others can't function if their clothes are scratchy. Equally as varied is the way autistic people deal with sensory overload in order to find a comfort level which allows them to function. You've probably seen a kid who rocks back and forth, or a kid who spins like a top.

My son is a hugger.

Actually, it is more accurate to say that he needs to be sqeezed. Frequently. Oh, and it really doesn't matter if he knows you. I'm just warning you. His doctor belives it is a symptom of not "feeling" one's body...a heady, drunk "medicine head" feeling. For those of you who haven't felt that way/don't know anyone who can't "feel" their own body, think Jerry Lewis in the Disorderly Orderly. Okay, that should give you a fairly accurate picture.

Temple Grandin is a fascinating success story in the world of autism. She, as a teen, invented a squeeze machine to help her relieve anxiety attacks. She describes the squeeze machine here: http://www.autism.org/hugbox.html

For many people, like my family, this device would make too big of a dent in the family savings...and probably take up too much space in the family room.....so the other option is the weighted vest.....



Now, I haven't personally seen one of these yet, but I'm going to guess there are pockets for the addition of weights. I'm interested to know how much weight can be added. Can I add enough weights to keep my son from running toward a person to hug them? Can weights be added to prevent my son from running and JUMPING onto a person to hug them?

If anyone has had experience with the weighted vest, I would be interested to hear your comments!

Grocery shopping

Can anyone explain to me why we are lacking for a decent (and competitive) health food store in this metropolitan area? Seriously?! It is at least a two hour drive for a good selection of wheat free/gluten free products. I find it hard to believe that our area (Peoria/Bloomington-Normal) cannot support a larger health food store than the one we have. The local store I currently use for wheat free/gluten free products has been out of stock on several items the last few times I've been in the store. So, I've placed specials orders, left deposits for my orders, etc. Which means phone calls to the store to follow up on orders, and extra trips to the store to pick up what I need. By the way, the local store is approximately 20 miles away.

Yes, I could probably order this stuff online, but I haven't found a vendor (yet) who allows orders for anything less than a case quantity. I don't have room to store cases of this stuff in my house. Also, I will not commit to purchasing a case of anything if I'm not sure I'll like it, ya dig?

What is the rush?

As I was shopping today, I needed assistance at a specific full service counter. I rang the bell on the counter, to alert whomever was in the department that I needed help. While I was talking to the associate helping me, another lady interrupted me to ask the associate for help. The associate understood the rudeness of the interruption because the associate (not the other customer) apologized to me and asked if I would excuse her for a moment. This type of interruption seems to occur more frequently than it used to. Why the shift in civility, folks? What in the world is going on that makes "ME" the most important person in the room? Can I just add, also, that the other customer was an older woman? I would have expected a younger person to be impatient. I would have expected a harried mother with three kids in tow to be impatient. I would never expect the older woman shopping by herself to be impatient.

I have also seen this behavior in the mornings, as I drop the kids off at school. Each year the school gives the directive for dropping off and picking up kids at school, to prevent traffic jams and unnecessary accidents. By the 2nd week of school, drivers have taken leave of their senses...making not one single file line of cars (as directed), but two lines with some parents in such a hurry that they try to sneak in between two rows of parked cars because they are in a hurry. A hurry for what? This just doesn't make the slightest bit of sense to me. The car in the middle lane is in a hurry, which is why they sneak into the middle (and only empty) lane, but they have a van full of kids who are slow moving. So, now we have three lanes of traffic where there should only be one. And, instead of speeding things up, everyone is suddenly moving slower to make sure they aren't going to be hit by someone else's car. Sigh.

Miss Manners, is there a polite way to respond to this?

By the way, the customer who interrupted me today needed a pillow case for a travel pillow.

Haiku for oatmeal

creamy blueberry
instant with added flax seed
good with hot, green tea

Blogging for Jackie

Jackie has cracked the whip and now I must resume my blogging duties.

The FDA has approved food produced from cloned animals, but added that this information cannot be noted on food packaging. As a consumer, I've got a pretty good grasp on why this information is not going to be added to the packaging...because customers may be hesitant to purchase it. I have to say I have a very bad feeling in my gut about cloning animals for food. At the risk of becoming a(nother) polarizing figure, I'll just be frank and say I'm afraid of where this is going. We've become a nation of overeaters, and now we have the technology to keep on keepin' on with our cloned animal food. The food quality, in theory, will be more consistent. Food costs, in theory, will decrease.

Hubby and I were discussing this last night, and he believes food from cloned animals will be a good thing because of the quality and pricing. I'm interested to know what the general consensus is from my readers. That means you, Jackie.

Theater at it's best

For the whole story behind this year's production, please go to www.penguinproject.org. I've been trying to find the right words to describe the group and the mission since our involvement in last year's production. Words fail me. All I can say is it makes me want to sign my paychecks over to them.

The plan is to get more communities involved to create more local theater groups like this one.

Carol, I think you'll find this interesting, given your connection to the arts and curiosity for a compelling story. I'm mailing a program from the musical to you so you can read about the artists for yourself.

If you live in central Illinois, you just have to go see it for yourself. The program grows each year. Jackie, take your kids to this. Mish, move your date with Sweeney Todd to a matinee so you can see the Penguins perform High School Musical.

New year tradition...thank you, Bonnie!

The most horrible part of working retail(which I no longer do) in my (now) home state of Illinois is missing holidays with extended family living too far away. It really meant a new opportunity to forge our own immediate family traditions. I was always looking for something meaningful and compelling enough to call "tradition" that the kids would be excited about each year.

A couple of year ago, Bonnie was telling me about the new year burning bowl tradition she had. It was perfect for us.

I had tried feeding the family black eyed peas. I was the only one at the table not gagging on them. Maybe the Rose Parade would work. Maybe...if we remembered to switch the channel to something other than cartoons. As a young child, I can remember being absolutely captivated by any kind of televised parade. What gives with today's youth?

The burning bowl, turned out to be just the ticket for everyone. Last year was the first year for us. Instead of coming up with resolutions everyone would forget or grow weary listening to me preach about, we wrote down the negative things we wanted to get out of our lives. Last year, everyone came up with a couple of ideas, wrote them down on a piece of paper and took turns throwing them in a thick, deep, candle burning crock.

This year, the kids were excited about it for weeks in advance. Rachel and I seem to have given our negative habits the most consideration. Apparently, she had given everyone else's negative habits her consideration as well. Before the family new year dinner (with black eyed peas) was cleared from the table, she had already gotten out her paper and pen. She was going to write down something for herself, and everyone else at the table. Hrmph, that sounds like something I would have done.

After almost laughing out loud at her, I explained the purpose of the tradition was for everyone to consider THEIR OWN negatives.

Let the burning begin!

We took turns going around the table, reading what we had written and watching the bad habit burn away. We pledged to support each other, instead of get preachy when someone had a weak moment. We are only five days into the new year, but the kids seem to be making more of an effort to get along, Todd is working on carving out more couple time, and I'm down to 24 oz. of Diet Mtn. Dew a day. I'll take that for as long as I can.