Today my dogs are barking and we lost our vet.
I totally buggered up my pinky toe today. I was vacuuming and turned around quick and whacked my foot into a wall that somehow, moved in front of me unannounced. This injury wasn't your normal stubbing type, where you might just mutter a quiet profanity under your breath. It was the all out screaming, 'oh *$%@,' crying type. I'm sure our kids were wondering if they should call 911.
I heard the toe pop when it hit the wall and thought, 'this can't be good.' But, in my persistence to be able to enjoy the present holiday weekend and not have to do loads of housework and cleaning, I kept going with my vacuuming. Despite my efforts to avoid the throbbing, I had to keep my foot turned up so that I wasn't in complete and utter immobile pain. My family would probably tell you I have hypochondriac tendencies toward illness, germs and pain but, just to refute those ideas, I was actually told by a doctor during one of my two c-section deliveries, my tolerance for pain was quite high. So, on I went about my day; vacuuming, picking up, making lunch, mopping the tile and hardwood. Then I took a shower. That was the end all. It was then I noticed not only was I in massive pain just from one little pinky toe, but that toe was now a deep purple and really crooked.
When my husband got home we went to a First Care. I got some mental reprieve because the kids and husband went to PetSmart to get our dog some special diet food (my rant about that will come shortly.) I got to spend the next hour at the First Care with a doctor that was quite difficult to understand, yet ordered x-rays and concluded that I broke my toe. I saw the complete break in the bone on the x-ray. I get to wear a lovely orthopedic shoe for four weeks. You know the fashion statement variety resembling a really bad slip on sandal with velcro? Yep, that's it. I'm not so thrilled this is how my summer will start. I had high hopes of wearing fun flip flops with pedicured feet. Now, I'll be sporting one ogre foot in a blue flat shoe instead.
Now, about the loss of our vet.
About a year ago, we tried to get our dogs teeth cleaned. To do this, we were required to do a pre-anesthetic blood work up. The results showed that our 10 year old dog had some kidney issues that could potentially turn bad if we didn't make some changes. We started with her food. Upon the Vet's recommendation, we switched it from an adult variety to a prescription food to help with kidney function. The 20 pound bag went from $27 a bag (PetSmart) to $50 a bag (same brand but only offered through our vet). I about freaked when I heard the new price we'd be paying to keep our 'first baby' fed, alive and kicking. So, I did some research online and through other vets and found out that the price I'd save with ordering online would not balance the price I'd pay for shipping 20 pound bags. So, I stuck with the vet.
Recently, East Peoria PetSmart opened a pet vet clinic inside their store. I decided to call and see if they offered the food. And sure enough, they did. AND for $6 less than our vet. The only request was the Rx script from our vet. So, I called the vet, told them I found a cheaper place to purchase the food and asked if I could have a script. They said, 'sure, but we charge $20 for the script every six months.' I was shocked. I asked them if they were serious and why they did this. The vet tech told me they did it to insure pet safety because of the prescription. Now, I'm not stupid and all I heard was 'KA-ching.'
Yes, it's only $6. But, $6 adds up over a years time and the principle of this just pissed me off. We have taken our dog to them since we got her from PAWS. They would have seen her for what would have been 11 years this fall. In the conversation with the vet tech, I was told that she'd ask the Vet if they could just charge us $20 for a year's script. I said, 'I don't think you are understanding me because I am not paying you anything to purchase the same brand of dog food elsewhere for a cheaper price. If you can not waive this 'all of the sudden fee,' we will find a new vet.' I went on to tell the vet tech that I did not want a new vet. I liked their service and that they've always been great with our dog and she loves going there. They've gotten us in for emergency situations and even if we just needed her toenails trimmed, always made room for us. I really didn't want to leave, but if making $40, or even $20 bucks off of us was more important than giving a loyal customer the script to save some money on food, then we'd be finding a new vet.
I didn't hear back from them for over 2 weeks. We had just purchased a small bag of our dog's old food to get us by until this was resolved. Well, we ran out yesterday and today my husband called the vet back. He told them to either have the script ready, be able to price match the food price or have the dog's medical records ready when he got there in 45 minutes. When he arrived, they had her medical records ready because the vet had decided that this was policy. Now, whether this policy just occurred today or it had been in place for years is unknown. I imagine it evolved because one customer, ME, decided to rock the boat. I wonder how many other people, mainly those that don't want to travel far for food or even have internet access to price compare, just pay out the yang because they aren't informed that you CAN go elsewhere and you DON'T have to get nickel and dime'd for an Rx script!!???
It's business. I know. But, customer loyalty keeps business and so does maintaining some sort of ethics in regards to client relationships. Obviously, we were just another dollar in your daily deposit Meadows Veterinary Clinic. And to lose a 10 year patient rapport, because you are too caught up in your $20 script fee charge, in my opinion, is just assanine.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
When It Rains, It Really Rains
So, the last 2 days, mother nature has 'blessed' (insert HUGE sarcasm on that word) us with warm summer temperatures. Summer for me should not start until June 1st. May is a transition month. It is that time where my body adjusts to the idea that I will sweat myself for the next three and a half months whenever I go from house to vehicle or vehicle to another air conditioned building. I will tell you when temps go above 75 without a huge breeze, I'm uncomfortable, bitchy and not that fun to be around. I seriously need to think about relocating further north. Planted roots of good family and friends keep me here and I guess I shouldn't leave out the big yellow provider, that which is my husband's employer.
So, we moved during cooler winter months to this new house and never checked the AC. And it doesn't work. No surprise there. For the past 2 days I've been sweating my arse off just 'living.' I can't even think about doing dishes or throwing in a load of laundry without sweating. And giving the kids a bath...OMG... If someone could recycle and purify what comes dripping off me while I'm in the heat-laden bathroom giving them a bath, we could bathe 3 more kids!
And speaking of our kids, they are the reason I knew the basement was raining like a jungle today. I sent them to the basement this morning to play while I cleaned up the kitchen. They came upstairs after about a half hour with a backpack that had been leaning up against one painted cement wall in our basement. They said the wall was raining. I asked how fast the rain was falling and they said, 'well, it's just wet.' I thought, that is better than RAIN, but I better check it out. So, as I am going down the hallway to the basement, I looked quickly at the thermostat. 85..and it wasn't even noon!
I get to the basement and start looking at the walls and at first I didn't notice anything. As I felt them, it was like they were sweating..ALL OVER! Brilliantly (and in retrospect..not so much!), we thought we'd turn on the 'fan' instead of the AC last night just to pull the cool air (which is usually about 15 degrees cooler) to the upstairs. It worked for a bit, but not as good as we'd hoped. As the cool air dispersed upstairs, the basement was getting warmer causing the walls to get damp..and then as our kids put it, 'rain' and leave small puddles on parts of our tile. In layman's terms..a big mother-expletive-expletive mess!
So, I spent the better portion of my morning finding an AC repair company to come out ASAP. This is quite difficult on the first 90 degree day of the year. I wouldn't suggest it. I had two companies in mind and it came down to who could get here sooner. A friend of mine recommended a service person from one company, whom I actually know personally. I just felt weird calling when I knew he'd be booked solid, which he is until late this evening. I called the other company, booked the appointment and the earliest they had was tomorrow after noon. As I sat here thinking about how the other guy knew my family and would probably do his best for me, I thought what the hell and called him too. He was super busy, booked back to back all day and told me to call back at 5 PM and he'd see what he could do. I teetered with that since I already had the other appointment.
All the while, the walls continued to sweat and rain. I called my husband and asked what we should do about the walls because I didn't want furniture, toys, electronics to get ruined because of this and it would not have time to turn into something we couldn't fix. He suggested a dehumidifier, a hose so we wouldn't have to empty it and fans to direct the air. I went to local home supply store, dropped a load of money along with a $25 gift card (thank you to that housewarming gift giver) and came home with the supplies. After getting it all out of the boxes, to the basement and hooked up. I came upstairs and was no longer teetering about the phone call to the favored, yet extremely busy AC repairman.
Called the 'family-known and friend-recommended' repairman back and he said he could not get me in tonight and was very apologetic. He said he could try after 9 PM, but still wasn't sure if he'd be able to get to our place. I told him to not worry about it as I had someone coming at noon tomorrow. I was honest from the beginning about having called another company because they could get me in and his company wouldn't be able to schedule me until Wednesday and I was desperate.
Five minutes later my cell phone rang and it was the same repairman calling me back. Said, if I could call the office, he could come out at 8 AM. I told him he really didn't have to worry about it and I felt bad for having called him directly. But he said he didn't want me to get screwed over or talked into something we didn't need if it was just a quick cleaning and fix. So, he told me to call his office and give them my info and he'd be here at 8 AM. He's a good guy and I'm glad I was encouraged into calling him. I called the other business back and cancelled my service call and I'm guessing some other sweaty soul will be very appreciative.
Tonight we are headed out for dinner with some coupons given to me by a friend. And then to see a movie with coupons from the backs of Kroger receipts (buy one get one!). And we will soak up the air conditioning for as long as possible. The coupons hardly compensate for the dehumidifier, 3 box fans, one hose and a service call with the potential to be expensive, but for a few hours, 'I' won't be raining. I'm hoping for no rain tomorrow and much COOLER temps!
So, we moved during cooler winter months to this new house and never checked the AC. And it doesn't work. No surprise there. For the past 2 days I've been sweating my arse off just 'living.' I can't even think about doing dishes or throwing in a load of laundry without sweating. And giving the kids a bath...OMG... If someone could recycle and purify what comes dripping off me while I'm in the heat-laden bathroom giving them a bath, we could bathe 3 more kids!
And speaking of our kids, they are the reason I knew the basement was raining like a jungle today. I sent them to the basement this morning to play while I cleaned up the kitchen. They came upstairs after about a half hour with a backpack that had been leaning up against one painted cement wall in our basement. They said the wall was raining. I asked how fast the rain was falling and they said, 'well, it's just wet.' I thought, that is better than RAIN, but I better check it out. So, as I am going down the hallway to the basement, I looked quickly at the thermostat. 85..and it wasn't even noon!
I get to the basement and start looking at the walls and at first I didn't notice anything. As I felt them, it was like they were sweating..ALL OVER! Brilliantly (and in retrospect..not so much!), we thought we'd turn on the 'fan' instead of the AC last night just to pull the cool air (which is usually about 15 degrees cooler) to the upstairs. It worked for a bit, but not as good as we'd hoped. As the cool air dispersed upstairs, the basement was getting warmer causing the walls to get damp..and then as our kids put it, 'rain' and leave small puddles on parts of our tile. In layman's terms..a big mother-expletive-expletive mess!
So, I spent the better portion of my morning finding an AC repair company to come out ASAP. This is quite difficult on the first 90 degree day of the year. I wouldn't suggest it. I had two companies in mind and it came down to who could get here sooner. A friend of mine recommended a service person from one company, whom I actually know personally. I just felt weird calling when I knew he'd be booked solid, which he is until late this evening. I called the other company, booked the appointment and the earliest they had was tomorrow after noon. As I sat here thinking about how the other guy knew my family and would probably do his best for me, I thought what the hell and called him too. He was super busy, booked back to back all day and told me to call back at 5 PM and he'd see what he could do. I teetered with that since I already had the other appointment.
All the while, the walls continued to sweat and rain. I called my husband and asked what we should do about the walls because I didn't want furniture, toys, electronics to get ruined because of this and it would not have time to turn into something we couldn't fix. He suggested a dehumidifier, a hose so we wouldn't have to empty it and fans to direct the air. I went to local home supply store, dropped a load of money along with a $25 gift card (thank you to that housewarming gift giver) and came home with the supplies. After getting it all out of the boxes, to the basement and hooked up. I came upstairs and was no longer teetering about the phone call to the favored, yet extremely busy AC repairman.
Called the 'family-known and friend-recommended' repairman back and he said he could not get me in tonight and was very apologetic. He said he could try after 9 PM, but still wasn't sure if he'd be able to get to our place. I told him to not worry about it as I had someone coming at noon tomorrow. I was honest from the beginning about having called another company because they could get me in and his company wouldn't be able to schedule me until Wednesday and I was desperate.
Five minutes later my cell phone rang and it was the same repairman calling me back. Said, if I could call the office, he could come out at 8 AM. I told him he really didn't have to worry about it and I felt bad for having called him directly. But he said he didn't want me to get screwed over or talked into something we didn't need if it was just a quick cleaning and fix. So, he told me to call his office and give them my info and he'd be here at 8 AM. He's a good guy and I'm glad I was encouraged into calling him. I called the other business back and cancelled my service call and I'm guessing some other sweaty soul will be very appreciative.
Tonight we are headed out for dinner with some coupons given to me by a friend. And then to see a movie with coupons from the backs of Kroger receipts (buy one get one!). And we will soak up the air conditioning for as long as possible. The coupons hardly compensate for the dehumidifier, 3 box fans, one hose and a service call with the potential to be expensive, but for a few hours, 'I' won't be raining. I'm hoping for no rain tomorrow and much COOLER temps!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
1:16 AM
I remember when I didn't know 1:16 AM existed.
I remember when 1:16 AM was a curfew I'd never have.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant the night was still young.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant I was going to see the sun rise because I had a deadline at 9 AM.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant we were just putting in our third movie for the all night marathon.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant a diaper change, another feeding, more rocking and lots of praying that you didn't wake up the other sleeping child(ren).
I am now listening to the ceiling fan, my husband snore and frogs croaking non-stop. I'm milking this time to myself while I think about what I'd like to do later today... when I wake up...in 6 hours...which is going to come too soon.
I remember when 1:16 AM was a curfew I'd never have.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant the night was still young.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant I was going to see the sun rise because I had a deadline at 9 AM.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant we were just putting in our third movie for the all night marathon.
I remember when 1:16 AM meant a diaper change, another feeding, more rocking and lots of praying that you didn't wake up the other sleeping child(ren).
I am now listening to the ceiling fan, my husband snore and frogs croaking non-stop. I'm milking this time to myself while I think about what I'd like to do later today... when I wake up...in 6 hours...which is going to come too soon.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Friday I'm in Love
It's Friday and I'm listening to this Direct TV station I just discovered called Flashback/New Wave, Channel 839. It's 80s and 90s alternative and I enjoy having it on in our family room when I'm relaxing on the weekends. The Cure was just on with 'Friday I'm in Love.' The lyrics pretty much have summed up my weekdays and Fridays since childhood. The only line I never liked was 'thursdays i don't care about you.' That line sucked.
"I don't care if monday's blue
tuesday's grey and wednesday too
thursday i don't care about you
it's friday I'm in love"
As a kid, the weekdays were filled with school, both of my parents working, but when Friday night hit, we'd do something as a family. We rarely stayed in on Fridays, even if the outing was just to go for a drive to get us out of the house. We'd also go to dinner, a concert in the park, drive-ins when they were still around, or over to friends and relatives. I don't remember it ever costing a lot, but now that I'm a parent, I'm sure they had to budget for those Fridays. I appreciate so much more about my parents after understanding what one salary affords. I have wonderful memories of going to a pub type restaurant, or out for pizza, being able to order whatever we wanted and get soda. Getting soda was a real treat because we did not get it at home. We grew up drinking Nestea, Tang and Kool-aid. And there was always tap water. But getting a bottle of Pepsi or Coke made us feel special and all grown up. We hung out as a family having good conversation and just spending time together. As we got older, we got to invite friends along and they got to spend the night.
As a teenager, Fridays meant footballs games in the fall and going out with friends. We'd meet up for a movie or go cruising down Main Street in Peoria. We'd drive slowly down the street, sometimes coming to a stop, waving and screaming at other kids. We'd usually end up at Lum's or a late night diner and take up tables so we'd have a place to sit and talk until we had to leave to make curfews.
In college, Friday's usually meant work, whether it be homework or one of the four jobs I kept. But occasionally, I'd have one Friday off and when I did, they were that much sweeter. The Saturday mornings that followed, not so much. I learned to appreciate those Fridays and any time I had free. I had to work so hard to get that free time and the money I'd spend while enjoying it.
Tonight, after a long day with the kids (stayed home this morning and got caught up on some day-to-day, ran to Peoria this afternoon for a few things = long day), I decided we'd stay in tonight. Every Friday...and I mean EVERY Friday, I look forward to my husband coming home. And not just for the help with the kids, but I miss him. I was prepping dinner when he got home and he was just in time to see how muddy the kids had gotten. I let them play outside in rain boots as it poured. They were a mess, but they had so much fun. Spring showers, rain boots, puddles on the back porch, mud and Dreamsicles..which I even gave them before dinner to their surprise. We had them strip down in the laundry room and he gave them baths. We all made dinner together and ate as a family with no rushing off or hurriedness to our meal. The kids goofed off and complained about the green stuff on their plates, while my husband and I talked about our plans for this weekend. It was good family time. Just like I remembered having as a child.
It doesn't matter how hectic the week is... if the kids and I have some long days... if my husband and I have an argument and barely get to see each other throughout our day... how crazy our family and friends lives are that week... we live for that Friday time. This time brings us back together and replenishes us for the week ahead.
As I'm finishing this up, it's quiet now. Peaceful. Calm. The kids are all in bed and my husband is upstairs listening to the kids talk about their day. Friday I'm in Love...all over again.
"I don't care if monday's blue
tuesday's grey and wednesday too
thursday i don't care about you
it's friday I'm in love"
As a kid, the weekdays were filled with school, both of my parents working, but when Friday night hit, we'd do something as a family. We rarely stayed in on Fridays, even if the outing was just to go for a drive to get us out of the house. We'd also go to dinner, a concert in the park, drive-ins when they were still around, or over to friends and relatives. I don't remember it ever costing a lot, but now that I'm a parent, I'm sure they had to budget for those Fridays. I appreciate so much more about my parents after understanding what one salary affords. I have wonderful memories of going to a pub type restaurant, or out for pizza, being able to order whatever we wanted and get soda. Getting soda was a real treat because we did not get it at home. We grew up drinking Nestea, Tang and Kool-aid. And there was always tap water. But getting a bottle of Pepsi or Coke made us feel special and all grown up. We hung out as a family having good conversation and just spending time together. As we got older, we got to invite friends along and they got to spend the night.
As a teenager, Fridays meant footballs games in the fall and going out with friends. We'd meet up for a movie or go cruising down Main Street in Peoria. We'd drive slowly down the street, sometimes coming to a stop, waving and screaming at other kids. We'd usually end up at Lum's or a late night diner and take up tables so we'd have a place to sit and talk until we had to leave to make curfews.
In college, Friday's usually meant work, whether it be homework or one of the four jobs I kept. But occasionally, I'd have one Friday off and when I did, they were that much sweeter. The Saturday mornings that followed, not so much. I learned to appreciate those Fridays and any time I had free. I had to work so hard to get that free time and the money I'd spend while enjoying it.
Tonight, after a long day with the kids (stayed home this morning and got caught up on some day-to-day, ran to Peoria this afternoon for a few things = long day), I decided we'd stay in tonight. Every Friday...and I mean EVERY Friday, I look forward to my husband coming home. And not just for the help with the kids, but I miss him. I was prepping dinner when he got home and he was just in time to see how muddy the kids had gotten. I let them play outside in rain boots as it poured. They were a mess, but they had so much fun. Spring showers, rain boots, puddles on the back porch, mud and Dreamsicles..which I even gave them before dinner to their surprise. We had them strip down in the laundry room and he gave them baths. We all made dinner together and ate as a family with no rushing off or hurriedness to our meal. The kids goofed off and complained about the green stuff on their plates, while my husband and I talked about our plans for this weekend. It was good family time. Just like I remembered having as a child.
It doesn't matter how hectic the week is... if the kids and I have some long days... if my husband and I have an argument and barely get to see each other throughout our day... how crazy our family and friends lives are that week... we live for that Friday time. This time brings us back together and replenishes us for the week ahead.
As I'm finishing this up, it's quiet now. Peaceful. Calm. The kids are all in bed and my husband is upstairs listening to the kids talk about their day. Friday I'm in Love...all over again.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Observation of the Day
Purchasing mattresses for kids bunk beds is just as difficult as getting those same kids to eat.
Big. Fat. GRRRRR!
Big. Fat. GRRRRR!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Sunday Driving on a 'Big Green Tractor'
One of our son's favorite songs is "Big Green Tractor" by Jason Aldean. I suppose at 3 years old, the lyrics to that song seem pretty awesome when you are bellowing them out to your mom from the backseat of the mini-van or while sitting in her lap watching the youtube for the song.
"...And I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor
We can go slow or make it go faster
Down through the woods and out to the pasture
'Long as I'm with you it really don't matter..."
But today, I got some alone time for about three hours. It was fantabulous! I found a radio station boasting to be 'hippie' and for 'baby boomers' but, the songs were from the the 60s and 70's and they weren't really from the era of my parents. And I thought they were baby boomers? I think the radio station was a little whacked in boasting the description of themselves, but good music none the less. And so I was off down the road, headed west.
I was in search of a few cemeteries I wanted to photograph. It ended up being five cemeteries, so I sort of hit the unexpected jackpot. I had looked these cemeteries up on Bing.com before leaving the house and had even screen captured the maps on my laptop before I left. I got lost. I'm not quite sure how this happened, but I admit, I am horrible at reading maps. I can read the sun however, it wasn't out today and with the cloudy skies and drizzle, not to mention the winding county and dirt roads, it just threw me off in my quest.
I really don't mind getting lost. After living in Chicago for about 5 years, one important lesson (out of many) that I learned about driving is that you can always...ALWAYS turn around and go back the same way. It might take a great stretch of road, a shady neighborhood, a few potholes and some time, but you can always turn around. I'm not afraid to stop and ask for directions. I refuse to use a GPS. I feel like it's cheating when it's just me and I have the time to make a wrong turn. I already looked up where the points of interest were located and I new the general direction I was headed and the main roads to travel. I figure I would just take off in that direction and at some point, I would see signs for the first destination. I have always driven this way. I love the road less traveled.
This afternoon, on the road 'less traveled,' I got lost. So, on three separate occasions, I had to stop and ask directions. In all three towns where I stopped, everyone was so cordial and helpful. I really love small towns for this reason. Everyone in these 'population of less than 1000' towns people know an outsider, but they are willing to help you find your way around. So, I got pointed in the right direction and my trip was awesome.
My last stop before heading back home was in Fairview, IL at the QuickStop Gas Station. When I pulled in, I noticed 3 pumps. On the two sides of where I pulled in were what I call 'monster trucks.' These are the extended quad cab, rumbling kind with huge tires and steps to get up into them. And on the third pump I see a John Deere garden tractor with a trailer. And all I could think is 'only in a small town!' I was furiously shoving my credit card into the gas pump machine so I could get my tank filled before the mystery driver came out from paying inside. I wanted a photo of that tractor at the pump just for giggles. You just don't see that every day in town.
The gas was still pumping when this older guy came walking out of the QuickStop Mart and got back on his tractor. Thank goodness he chatted it up with the driver of the monster truck next to me (they knew each other, of course), so I had time to finish and speed up behind him as he pulled out from the lot. The picture below was all I got, but he was definitely the epitome of 'Sunday country driver!' The bright orange triangle hazard sign in the back is practical, but what he really needs is a red bandana just tied on to the back.
"...And I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor
We can go slow or make it go faster
Down through the woods and out to the pasture
'Long as I'm with you it really don't matter..."
But today, I got some alone time for about three hours. It was fantabulous! I found a radio station boasting to be 'hippie' and for 'baby boomers' but, the songs were from the the 60s and 70's and they weren't really from the era of my parents. And I thought they were baby boomers? I think the radio station was a little whacked in boasting the description of themselves, but good music none the less. And so I was off down the road, headed west.
I was in search of a few cemeteries I wanted to photograph. It ended up being five cemeteries, so I sort of hit the unexpected jackpot. I had looked these cemeteries up on Bing.com before leaving the house and had even screen captured the maps on my laptop before I left. I got lost. I'm not quite sure how this happened, but I admit, I am horrible at reading maps. I can read the sun however, it wasn't out today and with the cloudy skies and drizzle, not to mention the winding county and dirt roads, it just threw me off in my quest.
I really don't mind getting lost. After living in Chicago for about 5 years, one important lesson (out of many) that I learned about driving is that you can always...ALWAYS turn around and go back the same way. It might take a great stretch of road, a shady neighborhood, a few potholes and some time, but you can always turn around. I'm not afraid to stop and ask for directions. I refuse to use a GPS. I feel like it's cheating when it's just me and I have the time to make a wrong turn. I already looked up where the points of interest were located and I new the general direction I was headed and the main roads to travel. I figure I would just take off in that direction and at some point, I would see signs for the first destination. I have always driven this way. I love the road less traveled.
This afternoon, on the road 'less traveled,' I got lost. So, on three separate occasions, I had to stop and ask directions. In all three towns where I stopped, everyone was so cordial and helpful. I really love small towns for this reason. Everyone in these 'population of less than 1000' towns people know an outsider, but they are willing to help you find your way around. So, I got pointed in the right direction and my trip was awesome.
My last stop before heading back home was in Fairview, IL at the QuickStop Gas Station. When I pulled in, I noticed 3 pumps. On the two sides of where I pulled in were what I call 'monster trucks.' These are the extended quad cab, rumbling kind with huge tires and steps to get up into them. And on the third pump I see a John Deere garden tractor with a trailer. And all I could think is 'only in a small town!' I was furiously shoving my credit card into the gas pump machine so I could get my tank filled before the mystery driver came out from paying inside. I wanted a photo of that tractor at the pump just for giggles. You just don't see that every day in town.
The gas was still pumping when this older guy came walking out of the QuickStop Mart and got back on his tractor. Thank goodness he chatted it up with the driver of the monster truck next to me (they knew each other, of course), so I had time to finish and speed up behind him as he pulled out from the lot. The picture below was all I got, but he was definitely the epitome of 'Sunday country driver!' The bright orange triangle hazard sign in the back is practical, but what he really needs is a red bandana just tied on to the back.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Food Products That Tick Me Off.
1. The packet of frosting that accompanies a Toaster Strudel is about just barely a tablespoon and it isn't enough.
2. 'Easy Squeeze' ketchup and mustard containers are never easy. First you have to tap it down. Then you squirt the bottle and it comes out so fast that it gets on everything BUT the bun.
3. Bagged lettuce is great if you intend on eating the entire bag in one sitting. And if you don't, it's rusty the next day.
4. Syrup. Now there's a product that needs Easy Squeeze! I would prefer not to grab the container out of the pantry and have my hand stick to it.
5. Bread needs better preservatives. I mean if Wonder Bread wants to really call itself that, then figure out the correct amount of preservatives so the bread isn't growing green fuzz in 3 days on the counter.
6. Gogurt, you're packaging is just horrifically messy. I want you to watch my children eat one in the backseat of a mini-van. And I even froze them first! Your product should come with a wet wipe, just like the new Always Clean panty-liners.
7. Ortega taco shells, you might as well be Ortega chips. By the time you are on my plate, filled with yummy goodness, and after the first bite, you crumble into 17 (sometimes more) chips.
8. Dole and Chiquita (cause I'm not partial). What's up with selling green bananas? Don't you know they give you a stomach ache if you eat them that color?
9. Pre-packaged meals that serve 4. Didn't the last census (or some household finding) conclude that most families have 2 adults and 2.5 kids. Where are you getting 4 servings? Seriously, can you up those portions to a nice round '5' servings.
10. Breyers and Edy's Ice Cream. You're not fooling anybody with your new smaller containers. I've been an ice cream-aholic since I hit puberty, and believe me, I know when you're skimping!
11. What happened to regular sized candy bars? When I take three kids through a check out aisle, they do not need 'King Size' sugary goodness.
12. Chicken people (and I'm not listing a brand because you are all guilty). I do not like having to use my kitchen utility scissors to take off all the little fat dangly pieces when I want a nice pretty piece of chicken to cook. Clean that up already before slapping it into the package!
13. Nuts. Why are you so expensive?
14. Hot dogs and buns. Could you work your quantity issues out so that you might match buns to dogs? Is it really that hard?
15. I want an adult sized Twinkie. I mean the current size was ok when I was a kid, but now that I'm an adult, I feel the need to have a larger cake portion and more filling.
16. Starbucks. Your Frappucino in a bottle should not be called Frappucino. It isn't a Frappucino. And it tastes nothing like the frosty blended one, topped with whipped cream from the drive-thru!
There are more, but it's 1:32 AM and I'm tired.
*Note to product brands...I don't know how to insert the 'TM' and 'R, with a circle around it' behind your names yet, but when I figure it out (and I will), I will correct my problem going forward.
2. 'Easy Squeeze' ketchup and mustard containers are never easy. First you have to tap it down. Then you squirt the bottle and it comes out so fast that it gets on everything BUT the bun.
3. Bagged lettuce is great if you intend on eating the entire bag in one sitting. And if you don't, it's rusty the next day.
4. Syrup. Now there's a product that needs Easy Squeeze! I would prefer not to grab the container out of the pantry and have my hand stick to it.
5. Bread needs better preservatives. I mean if Wonder Bread wants to really call itself that, then figure out the correct amount of preservatives so the bread isn't growing green fuzz in 3 days on the counter.
6. Gogurt, you're packaging is just horrifically messy. I want you to watch my children eat one in the backseat of a mini-van. And I even froze them first! Your product should come with a wet wipe, just like the new Always Clean panty-liners.
7. Ortega taco shells, you might as well be Ortega chips. By the time you are on my plate, filled with yummy goodness, and after the first bite, you crumble into 17 (sometimes more) chips.
8. Dole and Chiquita (cause I'm not partial). What's up with selling green bananas? Don't you know they give you a stomach ache if you eat them that color?
9. Pre-packaged meals that serve 4. Didn't the last census (or some household finding) conclude that most families have 2 adults and 2.5 kids. Where are you getting 4 servings? Seriously, can you up those portions to a nice round '5' servings.
10. Breyers and Edy's Ice Cream. You're not fooling anybody with your new smaller containers. I've been an ice cream-aholic since I hit puberty, and believe me, I know when you're skimping!
11. What happened to regular sized candy bars? When I take three kids through a check out aisle, they do not need 'King Size' sugary goodness.
12. Chicken people (and I'm not listing a brand because you are all guilty). I do not like having to use my kitchen utility scissors to take off all the little fat dangly pieces when I want a nice pretty piece of chicken to cook. Clean that up already before slapping it into the package!
13. Nuts. Why are you so expensive?
14. Hot dogs and buns. Could you work your quantity issues out so that you might match buns to dogs? Is it really that hard?
15. I want an adult sized Twinkie. I mean the current size was ok when I was a kid, but now that I'm an adult, I feel the need to have a larger cake portion and more filling.
16. Starbucks. Your Frappucino in a bottle should not be called Frappucino. It isn't a Frappucino. And it tastes nothing like the frosty blended one, topped with whipped cream from the drive-thru!
There are more, but it's 1:32 AM and I'm tired.
*Note to product brands...I don't know how to insert the 'TM' and 'R, with a circle around it' behind your names yet, but when I figure it out (and I will), I will correct my problem going forward.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
The House That Built Me
"You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am"
My parents would have celebrated forty years of marriage this year. My mom has lived without her husband (my dad) for pretty much the last ten years. He was diagnosed with dementia in the fall of 2000 and passed away 2 years ago, this October. These past ten years, she was living alone in her marriage. Living alone in the house she and my father built in 1972. ...The house that built me.
I was barely walking when we moved to the country. I don't remember it except for the photographs that were taken. My parents bought over two and half acres of bean field. This was total farm land when they bought it. It's now grass with mature trees, a fenced in garden with 5 raised beds consisting of one herb garden and 4 vegetable gardens and a patch of strawberries that have taken over the path between two of the raised beds, two rows of fruit trees, a small row of Concord grapes, some raspberry bushes, a flower garden, numerous lilac bushes, flowers and so many memories for me.
I saw the Miranda Lambert video a few days ago after hearing the song on the radio. I was immediately saddened. I knew that even before my father's passing, some day my mom would sell our family home. It is getting more difficult for her to take care of the property and house, although she has been doing it pretty much alone for the past 10 years. But, it's getting to be more than she can handle. And now that she is retired and is still young enough to go out and enjoy living her life, she doesn't need so much house. She has offered to sell it to my husband and I on a couple of occasions. I know she doesn't want to see it go as much as I don't. But, I know we couldn't give her what it's worth. It was just a bean field 38 years ago, but even though the house is a modest 4 bedroom, 2 bath ranch, it's prime real estate now. And although I love the neighbors, the land and the house because of all of the memories, there is just something about moving on and creating my own life by starting from scratch.
Like the video, I relate to the lyrics where she sings,
"I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I walk around I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me."
Memories...
Every time I do the drive to the house, memories just come flooding back. I think of how the road was dirt and gravel when my parents built the house and how I learned to ride a bike on that dirt road. I remember totally buggering up my arm as I flew off my bike and how my mom was there to fix me up. I think of all the nights I drove home late on those roads and how my parents were probably up worrying. Every time I pull in the drive, I think of how my siblings and I would play hopscotch, hula-hoop, volleyball or basketball in the driveway.
I think of walking in the garage and it smelling just like my dad. It's a mix of years being made to smoke his cigarettes outside the house, exhaust and mixtures of gasoline from lawn mowers, tillers, chain saws, etc. That is THE best way of remembering my dad. He was an outdoorsy type. The same John Deere lawn mower that my parents bought in '72, still sits in that garage and still mows my parents yard! If that isn't a testament to John Deere, I'm not sure what is. Most of my dad's tools still sit in the garage, a few fishing poles on the wall, his work bench with vice is still there, as are some of his memories from past jobs. The garage is a huge memory in itself.
We always entered the house through the garage. There is a front porch and front door, but we always entered through the garage. I'm not sure why. Perhaps we were all addicted to the smell of gasoline? But the kitchen is the next best thing in the house that built me. My mom is an excellent cook and our house bustle was centralized to 'the kitchen.' Wonderful smells and a lot of love came from that kitchen. And a lot of excellent communication happened at our kitchen table.
I remember learning to make so many recipes with my mom in the kitchen. Home made pasta, chocolate chip cookies, fried chicken, real mashed potatoes, chili and chicken soup that that can still fix a cold or a hurting soul. I had my last spanking over my dad's leg in that kitchen when I was around nine, I think. When you have to lay over 2 legs instead of just one, you are probably getting too old for spankings. I learned about reproduction at the kitchen table. My mother was a nurse, with a lot of medical books containing diagrams that were biological, yet totally self explanatory, and 'the talk' happened one afternoon before dinner. I never wanted to be anywhere else so bad, as I was old enough, but my siblings giggled through the entire dreadful hour. As I look back on that day, humiliating as it was as, I'm thankful this particular life lesson happened at our family table, rather than the backseat of some boyfriend's vehicle. I remember the many wonderful holiday meals we shared as a family, with immediate and extended family and my parents 25th surprise wedding anniversary party, my siblings and I hosted. It just seemed appropriate to celebrate that many years and to have everyone present around that one room. The kitchen has seen 2 updates over the past 38 years, but I can remember so many memories right down to the green and yellow wallpaper kitchen of the 70's, the mauve and country blue kitchen of the 80's and 90's and the current Tuscan painted walls of this decade.
"...Mama cut out pictures of houses for years
From Better Homes and Gardens magazine
Plans were drawn and concrete poured
Nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama’s dream"
I could go room by room through that entire house. Every room, every hallway, closet and nook has a special memory. Not all the memories are of good times, but every family has their share of tribulations and times that make them tougher in the end.
I have memories of the yard and woods behind it, and of being a child who grew up outside. I played outside in the dirt before grass grew. I rode my tricycle and later a banana seat, then a 10 speed, over every hill in that yard and through trails my dad mowed for us in the woods. I had a neighbor friend, as a child, who happened to be a boy, with whom I dug tunnels and ran Matchbox cars through. We once got stuck in my parent's garden after a heavy rain and they had to lay down railroad ties to pull us out. The mud was like quicksand. I lost my boots, socks, pants and gloves that day. I also remember getting into deep trouble afterwards for having been in there in the first place. I remember having slumber parties where my dad would cart my girlfriends and I around in a trailer hooked to the John Deere. He'd drive us around the yard and down the road for what seemed like hours. I remember pulling weeds in the strawberries, which seemed to multiply by the thousands overnight. I remember having the potential of getting paid $1 for picking a paper grocery bag of dandelions. I think I did this once and I only got fifty cents because I got tired. I remember having my first kiss at 13 maybe, on the grass at dusk, laying (more like hiding) next to the asparagus patch on the south side of my parents garage. And it was a really good kiss. Thank goodness for that talk at the kitchen table. I knew exactly what I was doing!
I remember the harvest every year. Sounds like we lived on a farm, doesn't it? And most of the time when I say I grew up in the country, this is what people will assume. We had a garden and we couldn't push mow our yard because of it's size, and our neighbors weren't watching us through the back windows, but we did not live on a farm. The only animals we had were dogs, a couple of wild rabbits and one cat. Fresh fruit and vegetables were always in abundance and I think this is why I have such an appreciation for fresh food now. We had berries of all kinds, so many vegetables, including corn which was inevitably knocked down yearly by a summer tornado. We'd still plant a patch of it and end up with some sort of harvest to put away in the freezer. We had fruit trees and come every fall, were so loaded we were giving baskets of produce away. We still pick apples and pears from the trees every fall. I remember mushroom hunting in early spring with my dad. We'd both take a long stick and wear hats because ticks were plentiful. This was a tradition until one year in the late 80s, he overdid it and got sick off of the -egg wash and cracker crumb coated - fried in a pan with butter - way in which my mom always prepared them. We haven't been back since. And to think I saw morels for over $20 a pound at the corner lot by Walmart a few years ago. We used to bring home grocery sacks overflowing.
The memories are endless. My mom started journaling our family life in the early 80's and wrote something every night before she went to bed. I believe she still does. She says it has helped remember dates, times, places and keeps her memory in check. Perhaps this is her version of a blog? She'd surely laugh if I asked her, because she doesn't even know what a blog is. She is still using dial-up and hand writing checks. But I won't fault her for that because all of my family memories are in my mind and our family photos are on cds and we horrifically balance our checking account by calling the 800 number and seeing what has cleared.
Because of my mom's retirement earlier this year, she's had time to organize the last 20 years of our family photographs in chronological order to coincide with the journals. This has been a huge project because she said it got away from her 20 years ago when she went back to work after my siblings and I were all in school, all day, and she was just overwhelmed with the day to day. Something with which I can totally relate...as it's taken me an evening and morning to write this blog between 'life.' And I've started to realize when my mom does sell the home, I won't be able to go back and walk in 'that' kitchen and smell wonderful aromas or watch my own children pick all of her flowers, which took her all spring trying to get to look nice, but the memories in my mind, in her journals and all of the photographs over years and years will preserve this forever. I can 'go home' whenever I want because, like the saying, it is not the house that makes the home, it's the people in it.
"...Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself"
And contrary to the lyrics above, I never have to look far to find myself. The house that builds me, is wherever I am. I am close with my family and they are my home.
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am"
My parents would have celebrated forty years of marriage this year. My mom has lived without her husband (my dad) for pretty much the last ten years. He was diagnosed with dementia in the fall of 2000 and passed away 2 years ago, this October. These past ten years, she was living alone in her marriage. Living alone in the house she and my father built in 1972. ...The house that built me.
I was barely walking when we moved to the country. I don't remember it except for the photographs that were taken. My parents bought over two and half acres of bean field. This was total farm land when they bought it. It's now grass with mature trees, a fenced in garden with 5 raised beds consisting of one herb garden and 4 vegetable gardens and a patch of strawberries that have taken over the path between two of the raised beds, two rows of fruit trees, a small row of Concord grapes, some raspberry bushes, a flower garden, numerous lilac bushes, flowers and so many memories for me.
I saw the Miranda Lambert video a few days ago after hearing the song on the radio. I was immediately saddened. I knew that even before my father's passing, some day my mom would sell our family home. It is getting more difficult for her to take care of the property and house, although she has been doing it pretty much alone for the past 10 years. But, it's getting to be more than she can handle. And now that she is retired and is still young enough to go out and enjoy living her life, she doesn't need so much house. She has offered to sell it to my husband and I on a couple of occasions. I know she doesn't want to see it go as much as I don't. But, I know we couldn't give her what it's worth. It was just a bean field 38 years ago, but even though the house is a modest 4 bedroom, 2 bath ranch, it's prime real estate now. And although I love the neighbors, the land and the house because of all of the memories, there is just something about moving on and creating my own life by starting from scratch.
Like the video, I relate to the lyrics where she sings,
"I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I walk around I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me."
Memories...
Every time I do the drive to the house, memories just come flooding back. I think of how the road was dirt and gravel when my parents built the house and how I learned to ride a bike on that dirt road. I remember totally buggering up my arm as I flew off my bike and how my mom was there to fix me up. I think of all the nights I drove home late on those roads and how my parents were probably up worrying. Every time I pull in the drive, I think of how my siblings and I would play hopscotch, hula-hoop, volleyball or basketball in the driveway.
I think of walking in the garage and it smelling just like my dad. It's a mix of years being made to smoke his cigarettes outside the house, exhaust and mixtures of gasoline from lawn mowers, tillers, chain saws, etc. That is THE best way of remembering my dad. He was an outdoorsy type. The same John Deere lawn mower that my parents bought in '72, still sits in that garage and still mows my parents yard! If that isn't a testament to John Deere, I'm not sure what is. Most of my dad's tools still sit in the garage, a few fishing poles on the wall, his work bench with vice is still there, as are some of his memories from past jobs. The garage is a huge memory in itself.
We always entered the house through the garage. There is a front porch and front door, but we always entered through the garage. I'm not sure why. Perhaps we were all addicted to the smell of gasoline? But the kitchen is the next best thing in the house that built me. My mom is an excellent cook and our house bustle was centralized to 'the kitchen.' Wonderful smells and a lot of love came from that kitchen. And a lot of excellent communication happened at our kitchen table.
I remember learning to make so many recipes with my mom in the kitchen. Home made pasta, chocolate chip cookies, fried chicken, real mashed potatoes, chili and chicken soup that that can still fix a cold or a hurting soul. I had my last spanking over my dad's leg in that kitchen when I was around nine, I think. When you have to lay over 2 legs instead of just one, you are probably getting too old for spankings. I learned about reproduction at the kitchen table. My mother was a nurse, with a lot of medical books containing diagrams that were biological, yet totally self explanatory, and 'the talk' happened one afternoon before dinner. I never wanted to be anywhere else so bad, as I was old enough, but my siblings giggled through the entire dreadful hour. As I look back on that day, humiliating as it was as, I'm thankful this particular life lesson happened at our family table, rather than the backseat of some boyfriend's vehicle. I remember the many wonderful holiday meals we shared as a family, with immediate and extended family and my parents 25th surprise wedding anniversary party, my siblings and I hosted. It just seemed appropriate to celebrate that many years and to have everyone present around that one room. The kitchen has seen 2 updates over the past 38 years, but I can remember so many memories right down to the green and yellow wallpaper kitchen of the 70's, the mauve and country blue kitchen of the 80's and 90's and the current Tuscan painted walls of this decade.
"...Mama cut out pictures of houses for years
From Better Homes and Gardens magazine
Plans were drawn and concrete poured
Nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama’s dream"
I could go room by room through that entire house. Every room, every hallway, closet and nook has a special memory. Not all the memories are of good times, but every family has their share of tribulations and times that make them tougher in the end.
I have memories of the yard and woods behind it, and of being a child who grew up outside. I played outside in the dirt before grass grew. I rode my tricycle and later a banana seat, then a 10 speed, over every hill in that yard and through trails my dad mowed for us in the woods. I had a neighbor friend, as a child, who happened to be a boy, with whom I dug tunnels and ran Matchbox cars through. We once got stuck in my parent's garden after a heavy rain and they had to lay down railroad ties to pull us out. The mud was like quicksand. I lost my boots, socks, pants and gloves that day. I also remember getting into deep trouble afterwards for having been in there in the first place. I remember having slumber parties where my dad would cart my girlfriends and I around in a trailer hooked to the John Deere. He'd drive us around the yard and down the road for what seemed like hours. I remember pulling weeds in the strawberries, which seemed to multiply by the thousands overnight. I remember having the potential of getting paid $1 for picking a paper grocery bag of dandelions. I think I did this once and I only got fifty cents because I got tired. I remember having my first kiss at 13 maybe, on the grass at dusk, laying (more like hiding) next to the asparagus patch on the south side of my parents garage. And it was a really good kiss. Thank goodness for that talk at the kitchen table. I knew exactly what I was doing!
I remember the harvest every year. Sounds like we lived on a farm, doesn't it? And most of the time when I say I grew up in the country, this is what people will assume. We had a garden and we couldn't push mow our yard because of it's size, and our neighbors weren't watching us through the back windows, but we did not live on a farm. The only animals we had were dogs, a couple of wild rabbits and one cat. Fresh fruit and vegetables were always in abundance and I think this is why I have such an appreciation for fresh food now. We had berries of all kinds, so many vegetables, including corn which was inevitably knocked down yearly by a summer tornado. We'd still plant a patch of it and end up with some sort of harvest to put away in the freezer. We had fruit trees and come every fall, were so loaded we were giving baskets of produce away. We still pick apples and pears from the trees every fall. I remember mushroom hunting in early spring with my dad. We'd both take a long stick and wear hats because ticks were plentiful. This was a tradition until one year in the late 80s, he overdid it and got sick off of the -egg wash and cracker crumb coated - fried in a pan with butter - way in which my mom always prepared them. We haven't been back since. And to think I saw morels for over $20 a pound at the corner lot by Walmart a few years ago. We used to bring home grocery sacks overflowing.
The memories are endless. My mom started journaling our family life in the early 80's and wrote something every night before she went to bed. I believe she still does. She says it has helped remember dates, times, places and keeps her memory in check. Perhaps this is her version of a blog? She'd surely laugh if I asked her, because she doesn't even know what a blog is. She is still using dial-up and hand writing checks. But I won't fault her for that because all of my family memories are in my mind and our family photos are on cds and we horrifically balance our checking account by calling the 800 number and seeing what has cleared.
Because of my mom's retirement earlier this year, she's had time to organize the last 20 years of our family photographs in chronological order to coincide with the journals. This has been a huge project because she said it got away from her 20 years ago when she went back to work after my siblings and I were all in school, all day, and she was just overwhelmed with the day to day. Something with which I can totally relate...as it's taken me an evening and morning to write this blog between 'life.' And I've started to realize when my mom does sell the home, I won't be able to go back and walk in 'that' kitchen and smell wonderful aromas or watch my own children pick all of her flowers, which took her all spring trying to get to look nice, but the memories in my mind, in her journals and all of the photographs over years and years will preserve this forever. I can 'go home' whenever I want because, like the saying, it is not the house that makes the home, it's the people in it.
"...Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself"
And contrary to the lyrics above, I never have to look far to find myself. The house that builds me, is wherever I am. I am close with my family and they are my home.
Thank you Dad.
"...Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm Mmm... I don't know... Mmm Mmm... Mmm Mmm...
Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too"
I was recently thumbing through the pile of cds in a recyclable shopping bag I keep in our van. I should have them in a safer, more organized location because I would be upset if anything happened to any one of them. However, they are easily accessible and I switch them out often. The cd changer in our van only has 6 slots. This is sort of a bummer when I have quite the selection of music sitting on the floor under the console.
I was thinking, for a 30-something mom, I have quite the broad, eclectic taste in music. I don't stick to one genre and I don't stay on any one particular group or artist for very long, but I NEVER get rid of music. This is probably why I rarely listen to the radio and if I do, I'm a surfer, constantly switching the station to the next 'good' song. Someday, I will add my Playlist to this blog. You'll see what I mean.
My version of 'good' has changed over the years. When I was preteen, I think 'good' was the latest, greatest and definitely overplayed on the local rock station. Through high school, it was big hair bands that had to be played really loud for the full effect, or so I thought. In college, I turned into a music sponge. I rarely had time to watch television, but always had music going. At all of my hourly wage jobs and while riding my bike or the bus to get to and from those jobs and class, the headphones were on and a mix was playing. When I moved on from college to a career, it was playlists on the computer, satellite radio and music that was suggested to me.
College, and thereafter, was when I really started listening to all genres and allowed my musical tastes to be opened. Not only did I listen to the beat, but the instruments individually, as well as lyrics and the varying voices singing. And all of those elements put together created music in song. Yes, I liked some genres more than others. And there was specific music for specific times and places in my life. In retrospect as I write this, I also notice that certain seasons evoked certain musical tastes. But, the one big tie in through all those years, was my father. He had been probably my first musical influence and had always encouraged me to really 'listen' to a song.
My father and I had arguments about 'good' music from probably high school until a trip home from college. I remember giving him a cassette that I had made for him. Eric Clapton, Unplugged (released in '92). He hadn't graduated to a cd player in his pick-up at the time, so a cassette seemed a step up considering he would have probably stuck with 8-tracks for as long as possible. After handing it to him, he asked me what my favorite song on it was and why. I don't remember exactly what song I said, or even if I had a particular one. But I remember us having a discussion about Eric Clapton's musical talent as an acoustic guitarist on this album. We talked about his voice and how smoking had 'made' his voice, which in itself was arguable. My dad, being a chain smoker at that time, was on Clapton's side of course, and thought it only made it better. And we talked about his writing in regards to lyrics and the history behind some of the songs. And then he said something like, 'you finally get it.' I recall him saying those words distinctly because as a kid, I remember him being disappointed that I did not take any interest in learning a musical instrument, nor did I have a beautiful voice. I think he once told me I was tone deaf. I don't think he meant that in a mean way, but for a man that never learned to read sheet music, and pick up a song after listening to it a few times, he was probably pretty disappointed that only one of my siblings ever took up a musical instrument (the Oboe) and they sucked at it.
My dad had played the guitar for as long as I could remember. He was lead guitar in local bands over many years. He played in local restaurant lounges and bars, for weddings and special events, starting even before I was born. This was always a side job for him. He was proud blue collar and a very hard worker. And his favorite hobby was always electric guitar. Fender and Gibson. Don't ask me the years and the models. I just know those were his two prized possessions.
As Father's Day approaches, I think of this one aspect in life that my father always loved and I am still learning to appreciate. I think of all the music my dad introduced me to, the song he and I danced to at my wedding, and most of all, the music I wish I could share with him now. And there is so much music I wish I could discuss with him. I believe I have grown, even from that Clapton cassette, to have a much greater appreciation of musicians and their talent.
"This is for you daddy." I miss you.
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm Mmm... I don't know... Mmm Mmm... Mmm Mmm...
Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too"
I was recently thumbing through the pile of cds in a recyclable shopping bag I keep in our van. I should have them in a safer, more organized location because I would be upset if anything happened to any one of them. However, they are easily accessible and I switch them out often. The cd changer in our van only has 6 slots. This is sort of a bummer when I have quite the selection of music sitting on the floor under the console.
I was thinking, for a 30-something mom, I have quite the broad, eclectic taste in music. I don't stick to one genre and I don't stay on any one particular group or artist for very long, but I NEVER get rid of music. This is probably why I rarely listen to the radio and if I do, I'm a surfer, constantly switching the station to the next 'good' song. Someday, I will add my Playlist to this blog. You'll see what I mean.
My version of 'good' has changed over the years. When I was preteen, I think 'good' was the latest, greatest and definitely overplayed on the local rock station. Through high school, it was big hair bands that had to be played really loud for the full effect, or so I thought. In college, I turned into a music sponge. I rarely had time to watch television, but always had music going. At all of my hourly wage jobs and while riding my bike or the bus to get to and from those jobs and class, the headphones were on and a mix was playing. When I moved on from college to a career, it was playlists on the computer, satellite radio and music that was suggested to me.
College, and thereafter, was when I really started listening to all genres and allowed my musical tastes to be opened. Not only did I listen to the beat, but the instruments individually, as well as lyrics and the varying voices singing. And all of those elements put together created music in song. Yes, I liked some genres more than others. And there was specific music for specific times and places in my life. In retrospect as I write this, I also notice that certain seasons evoked certain musical tastes. But, the one big tie in through all those years, was my father. He had been probably my first musical influence and had always encouraged me to really 'listen' to a song.
My father and I had arguments about 'good' music from probably high school until a trip home from college. I remember giving him a cassette that I had made for him. Eric Clapton, Unplugged (released in '92). He hadn't graduated to a cd player in his pick-up at the time, so a cassette seemed a step up considering he would have probably stuck with 8-tracks for as long as possible. After handing it to him, he asked me what my favorite song on it was and why. I don't remember exactly what song I said, or even if I had a particular one. But I remember us having a discussion about Eric Clapton's musical talent as an acoustic guitarist on this album. We talked about his voice and how smoking had 'made' his voice, which in itself was arguable. My dad, being a chain smoker at that time, was on Clapton's side of course, and thought it only made it better. And we talked about his writing in regards to lyrics and the history behind some of the songs. And then he said something like, 'you finally get it.' I recall him saying those words distinctly because as a kid, I remember him being disappointed that I did not take any interest in learning a musical instrument, nor did I have a beautiful voice. I think he once told me I was tone deaf. I don't think he meant that in a mean way, but for a man that never learned to read sheet music, and pick up a song after listening to it a few times, he was probably pretty disappointed that only one of my siblings ever took up a musical instrument (the Oboe) and they sucked at it.
My dad had played the guitar for as long as I could remember. He was lead guitar in local bands over many years. He played in local restaurant lounges and bars, for weddings and special events, starting even before I was born. This was always a side job for him. He was proud blue collar and a very hard worker. And his favorite hobby was always electric guitar. Fender and Gibson. Don't ask me the years and the models. I just know those were his two prized possessions.
As Father's Day approaches, I think of this one aspect in life that my father always loved and I am still learning to appreciate. I think of all the music my dad introduced me to, the song he and I danced to at my wedding, and most of all, the music I wish I could share with him now. And there is so much music I wish I could discuss with him. I believe I have grown, even from that Clapton cassette, to have a much greater appreciation of musicians and their talent.
"This is for you daddy." I miss you.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
"You Won't Understand Until You're a Mom"
I understood this phrase, my mother often used to say to us as kids, as soon as I found out I was pregnant for the first time. You don't understand what you will do for your child until faced with making split second decisions that involve selflessness and unconditional love and are even sometimes difficult to make, but you know they are for the betterment of your children. Being a 'mom' for only 5 years now, I'm still young and learning, but I do understand what my mom was saying all those years and I appreciate her even more.
When our children were a mere kidney bean in my stomach, I made decisions affecting them. And at the time, all they felt like was some alien invasion. I chose to take good care of my body; by what I ate, taking naps and sleeping when needed, taking prescribed vitamins, minimizing stress in my life and visiting the doctor for routine visits to check on their progress.
Once they arrived, my world as I knew it changed forever. I became a mom. Little persons depended on me. My life was no more about my schedule. These little beings threw me off completely with their need to be nurtured and cared for 24/7. Thank goodness it came naturally and selflessly. Nobody gives you a life lesson about caring for children and although it took adjusting for me after being independent and carefree for a good 10 years of my life, having children has taught me much about my own self and what I still have to learn about life.
I could write a book on 'the unexpected' in childcare and parenting and 'what others before me never told me' about having children. Most days you would not believe some of the occurrences that happen here, but as I type them as a Facebook update, explain them to my husband or other family members, they make me smile and laugh, feel important as a person and know that only a mom could understand.
I've had a wonderful Mother's Day. Slow moving morning with hugs, kisses and a few presents followed by a wonderful brunch shared with family. My favorite moments today were the hugs and "I love you mommy' from each child in abundance. They do and say those things every day, but today is just a day to reflect and soak it up and appreciate the mother child bond with each of them.
My mom offered to take child 3 with her for the rest of the day (insert 'woohoo' here), so I get some mommy child 1 and child 2 alone time. We are going for a drive, taking some photos and doing some exploring. And possibly some ice cream and/or a coffee run for mommy!
Wonderful wishes to all of the other moms out there! Enjoy your day!
When our children were a mere kidney bean in my stomach, I made decisions affecting them. And at the time, all they felt like was some alien invasion. I chose to take good care of my body; by what I ate, taking naps and sleeping when needed, taking prescribed vitamins, minimizing stress in my life and visiting the doctor for routine visits to check on their progress.
Once they arrived, my world as I knew it changed forever. I became a mom. Little persons depended on me. My life was no more about my schedule. These little beings threw me off completely with their need to be nurtured and cared for 24/7. Thank goodness it came naturally and selflessly. Nobody gives you a life lesson about caring for children and although it took adjusting for me after being independent and carefree for a good 10 years of my life, having children has taught me much about my own self and what I still have to learn about life.
I could write a book on 'the unexpected' in childcare and parenting and 'what others before me never told me' about having children. Most days you would not believe some of the occurrences that happen here, but as I type them as a Facebook update, explain them to my husband or other family members, they make me smile and laugh, feel important as a person and know that only a mom could understand.
I've had a wonderful Mother's Day. Slow moving morning with hugs, kisses and a few presents followed by a wonderful brunch shared with family. My favorite moments today were the hugs and "I love you mommy' from each child in abundance. They do and say those things every day, but today is just a day to reflect and soak it up and appreciate the mother child bond with each of them.
My mom offered to take child 3 with her for the rest of the day (insert 'woohoo' here), so I get some mommy child 1 and child 2 alone time. We are going for a drive, taking some photos and doing some exploring. And possibly some ice cream and/or a coffee run for mommy!
Wonderful wishes to all of the other moms out there! Enjoy your day!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Priorities.
I love getting massages. I would get one (or two for that matter) every day if I could afford it. I don't like the scratchy, fingernail type of massage, I want the rub with the thumbs and knuckles, deep tissue, kneading the sore spots 'type.' Truth is, I've had one, yep..just one, in the past year because it's a luxury expense and I just don't treat myself as much as I should. Of course, had I not purchased all the Venti Iced Soy Lattes I have over the past year, I could have probably afforded at least 3 more massages. Priorities.
I'm not one that will be sharing intimate bedroom details on my blog, but this was just a massage. It was really nice and it deserves recognition. Some mornings just start out better than others and I have to give a big fat 'damn, that was AWESOME,' when it's due. My husband can do a fantastic job at giving a massage, when he sets his mind to it. He can totally give me 'goosebumps' and cause my brain to tingle and my body to totally relax...and put me right back to sleep. Sounds like more than a massage, right? But it isn't, and on a busy, weekday morning, it's really nice to have that time together.
I just made a list and here's the rest of my next two days:
Wash Rugs: bathroom (1 load), kitchen (2 loads), towels (our bathroom 1 load), bedding (our bedroom and spare room)
Dust: entire house, ceiling fans and huge window in foyer (need extension pole to get dead ladybugs)
Bathrooms: Tub and Shower (CLR), Sinks and Toilets (x4), Floors (hardwood, Pergo, 2 Tile) restock TP/soap/tissue/paper towels and cleaner under sinks
Kitchen: countertops/stove/micro/clean out fridge
Basement: empty boxes to garage, craft bins off bar, toys picked up, slipcovers straightened, dust
Mop Hardwood in Kitchen, Tile in Basement, Vacuum House
Remake beds, lay down rugs, marinate meat for grilling this weekend, prep veggies
Next week: windows and sills in all rooms..MUST DO before next weekend!
As much as I'd like to trade in my personal masseuse for a cleaning person, I think I'll keep the masseuse. Priorities.
I'm not one that will be sharing intimate bedroom details on my blog, but this was just a massage. It was really nice and it deserves recognition. Some mornings just start out better than others and I have to give a big fat 'damn, that was AWESOME,' when it's due. My husband can do a fantastic job at giving a massage, when he sets his mind to it. He can totally give me 'goosebumps' and cause my brain to tingle and my body to totally relax...and put me right back to sleep. Sounds like more than a massage, right? But it isn't, and on a busy, weekday morning, it's really nice to have that time together.
I just made a list and here's the rest of my next two days:
Wash Rugs: bathroom (1 load), kitchen (2 loads), towels (our bathroom 1 load), bedding (our bedroom and spare room)
Dust: entire house, ceiling fans and huge window in foyer (need extension pole to get dead ladybugs)
Bathrooms: Tub and Shower (CLR), Sinks and Toilets (x4), Floors (hardwood, Pergo, 2 Tile) restock TP/soap/tissue/paper towels and cleaner under sinks
Kitchen: countertops/stove/micro/clean out fridge
Basement: empty boxes to garage, craft bins off bar, toys picked up, slipcovers straightened, dust
Mop Hardwood in Kitchen, Tile in Basement, Vacuum House
Remake beds, lay down rugs, marinate meat for grilling this weekend, prep veggies
Next week: windows and sills in all rooms..MUST DO before next weekend!
As much as I'd like to trade in my personal masseuse for a cleaning person, I think I'll keep the masseuse. Priorities.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Question of the Day
Can shopping with two 5 year olds really be considered retail therapy? I'll get back to you on that.
Kid 1 and kid 2 have experienced a growth spurt. I can't quite understand this because every meal seems like a food challenge. I put a balanced plate in front of them and on most days am given back some portion of the veggies and proteins. The starch/carbs go down just fine. So how, in just 6 months, they grew 2-3 inches in height, now have tummies popping the snap on their jeans and are in need of a summer selection of shoes which they will inevitably outgrow before fall is beyond me. I guess the pediatrician knew what she was talking about when she said they could go for 'days' without eating and be just fine. Or, I could feed them pbj every day for a month and they'd still be ok. I'm not going to do one of those 30 day trials to test that theory anytime soon, but I believe her.
Kid 1 and kid 2 have experienced a growth spurt. I can't quite understand this because every meal seems like a food challenge. I put a balanced plate in front of them and on most days am given back some portion of the veggies and proteins. The starch/carbs go down just fine. So how, in just 6 months, they grew 2-3 inches in height, now have tummies popping the snap on their jeans and are in need of a summer selection of shoes which they will inevitably outgrow before fall is beyond me. I guess the pediatrician knew what she was talking about when she said they could go for 'days' without eating and be just fine. Or, I could feed them pbj every day for a month and they'd still be ok. I'm not going to do one of those 30 day trials to test that theory anytime soon, but I believe her.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Sunday Driver Stops for Horses in the Country
(I have a few things to learn about photo placement, but I was so excited to just get them on here, bear with me!)
Yep, I joined that over 65 crowd today. You know who I'm talking about. They take those leisurely drives out in the country and it's always a no passing zone, for about the next 17 miles.
Actually, I try to get out and go driving every weekend, when I can get away for a few hours. I make sure I have good music so I can practice my rock star singing voice. I crack all the windows and open the sun roof to ensure a breeze is blowing my hair all over. It makes me feel like a wild woman on a mission when I really have no mission at all. I make sure I have an icy beverage to quench the singing-voice-thirsties when needed. And I make a conscious effort to not irk people off by going 30 mph. I do pull off the side of the road to snap photos when they present themselves, but I use my signals and hazard lights.
So, I finally learned how to load photos to this blog and I'm so excited to incorporate some of the ones I took today. Yes, it took me an entire week to see that little link that loads the photos so effortlessly for me. Call me an blog virgin, but I'm trying.
I found myself at this horse farm. I didn't actually go up this family's driveway, knock on the door and ask to take photos. I just hung out on the road in front of their fence, like some spying mom with a camera in a mini-van. I do this often and the more I do it, it becomes less of a bother to my sub-conscious telling me this might be quite strange to passers-by.
I tell myself I don't like horses, but I do think they are beautiful animals. When I was a Girl Scout, we rent riding as a troop. I believe this was to get a badge of some sort and I probably never received mine. I was not comfortable on the horse I was given to ride. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that it was 4 times as tall as me and could crush my skull with one hoof. The horse felt my insecurity and decided to revolt against me. He (or it could have been a she..not sure) took off. This horse had no intention of stopping and I rode that horse in fear for my life for what seemed like miles. Luckily, one of the horse wranglers (Is that what they are called? I think the jeans brand may be throwing me off here ) came up and got the horse to heed. I have not been on a horse since. But, I continue to enjoy their beauty from at least 5 feet.
I've dubbed this horse 'Blondie.' I confirmed she was actually a 'she' because as I was pulling further down the road she was a bit exposed, I believe her male counterpart was planning his attack. Further on down the fence..more horses and the next two were most definitely in love.
The rest of my journey involved a creek or crick, depending on the hillbilly in you, a cow that wouldn't give me a smile even with all the nice conversational attempts I was yelling out my window at him/her, railroad tracks that reminded me of the Rob Reiner movie Stand By Me, and a gorgeous sky that said 'thank you for seizing this afternoon' on my way home.
Yep, I joined that over 65 crowd today. You know who I'm talking about. They take those leisurely drives out in the country and it's always a no passing zone, for about the next 17 miles.
Actually, I try to get out and go driving every weekend, when I can get away for a few hours. I make sure I have good music so I can practice my rock star singing voice. I crack all the windows and open the sun roof to ensure a breeze is blowing my hair all over. It makes me feel like a wild woman on a mission when I really have no mission at all. I make sure I have an icy beverage to quench the singing-voice-thirsties when needed. And I make a conscious effort to not irk people off by going 30 mph. I do pull off the side of the road to snap photos when they present themselves, but I use my signals and hazard lights.
So, I finally learned how to load photos to this blog and I'm so excited to incorporate some of the ones I took today. Yes, it took me an entire week to see that little link that loads the photos so effortlessly for me. Call me an blog virgin, but I'm trying.
I found myself at this horse farm. I didn't actually go up this family's driveway, knock on the door and ask to take photos. I just hung out on the road in front of their fence, like some spying mom with a camera in a mini-van. I do this often and the more I do it, it becomes less of a bother to my sub-conscious telling me this might be quite strange to passers-by.
I tell myself I don't like horses, but I do think they are beautiful animals. When I was a Girl Scout, we rent riding as a troop. I believe this was to get a badge of some sort and I probably never received mine. I was not comfortable on the horse I was given to ride. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that it was 4 times as tall as me and could crush my skull with one hoof. The horse felt my insecurity and decided to revolt against me. He (or it could have been a she..not sure) took off. This horse had no intention of stopping and I rode that horse in fear for my life for what seemed like miles. Luckily, one of the horse wranglers (Is that what they are called? I think the jeans brand may be throwing me off here ) came up and got the horse to heed. I have not been on a horse since. But, I continue to enjoy their beauty from at least 5 feet.
I've dubbed this horse 'Blondie.' I confirmed she was actually a 'she' because as I was pulling further down the road she was a bit exposed, I believe her male counterpart was planning his attack. Further on down the fence..more horses and the next two were most definitely in love. 
The rest of my journey involved a creek or crick, depending on the hillbilly in you, a cow that wouldn't give me a smile even with all the nice conversational attempts I was yelling out my window at him/her, railroad tracks that reminded me of the Rob Reiner movie Stand By Me, and a gorgeous sky that said 'thank you for seizing this afternoon' on my way home. 
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
That is my 'Saturday' word. I love..and I mean LUVVVVV Saturdays! Every other day of the week, I'm struggling to get my butt out of bed, but Saturdays, I have this amazing vigor to jump out of bed.
This morning..dog was barking at our bedroom door, which meant one of the kids let her out of her 'cage.' My husband has been sick the past few days, and even though he was moving around and getting out of bed, I went downstairs. I made banana muffins and got kids dressed. Enjoyed breakfast with the kids for about 10 minutes until 'Kid 3' decided to squeeze the juice box into the yogurt tube and 'Kid 1' said the crumbs on the plate were dancing as they proceeded to hit the plate with a knife. That was my quitting point on a Saturday morning after an entire week of this creativity with breakfast. Daddy was downstairs by this time and I said...'mommy's finishing her grocery list upstairs' and I snuck out.
So, I'm upstairs planning my day. I would normally get up EARLY. My goal on most Saturdays is usually to beat the sun, get a shower, grab my camera and run out the door before the kids figure out I'm up and are screaming for breakfast. Most Saturdays, I make it. But I have to be sneaky!! Today, I decided to make it a slow morning and take my time. My camera and laptop bag are ready to go, but I have this impending list of groceries that needs to get done. Relaxation to follow the 'unloading' of the vehicle.
Ever notice how other tasks or people are dependent on 'the list?' That being the grocery/staples list? For example...husband needs deodorant..otherwise..stinky husband pits. Laundry needs bleach..otherwise..stains and dingy clothes. Kids need milk..otherwise...rotting teeth from juice boxes and the like. Dog needs food..otherwise...she pretends to be malnourished and eats every little morsel she can get her very long sloppy tongue to reach. Mommy needs to do 'the list' alone or she just might end up in a padded room before week's end.
Some adults loathe grocery shopping and especially on a Saturday, when it's crazy nuts out there. And by crazy nuts, I mean the other shoppers. But, part of my fun, besides not having the 'I want, I want, I need, I want trio' along, is to take my time and be able to people watch. I love watching others....deal with their children, their reaction to the 10 cart line at the check-out, where they park their empty cart out in the lot...just the day to day, but on a Saturday. This makes my life seem not so crazy nuts. I'm not the only one that needs a Saturday 'Ahhhhhhhh' break, I'm just lucky enough to get one!
And a huge, HUGE THANK YOU to my husband, who is quite capable at keeping the kids happy and content, so I can take a time out from 'mommy' for a bit and just be myself. I need this 'ME TIME.' It revives me for the next week ahead.
Now..off for a relaxing shower with no kid interruption. Then out the door with my lists and my camera and laptop.
This morning..dog was barking at our bedroom door, which meant one of the kids let her out of her 'cage.' My husband has been sick the past few days, and even though he was moving around and getting out of bed, I went downstairs. I made banana muffins and got kids dressed. Enjoyed breakfast with the kids for about 10 minutes until 'Kid 3' decided to squeeze the juice box into the yogurt tube and 'Kid 1' said the crumbs on the plate were dancing as they proceeded to hit the plate with a knife. That was my quitting point on a Saturday morning after an entire week of this creativity with breakfast. Daddy was downstairs by this time and I said...'mommy's finishing her grocery list upstairs' and I snuck out.
So, I'm upstairs planning my day. I would normally get up EARLY. My goal on most Saturdays is usually to beat the sun, get a shower, grab my camera and run out the door before the kids figure out I'm up and are screaming for breakfast. Most Saturdays, I make it. But I have to be sneaky!! Today, I decided to make it a slow morning and take my time. My camera and laptop bag are ready to go, but I have this impending list of groceries that needs to get done. Relaxation to follow the 'unloading' of the vehicle.
Ever notice how other tasks or people are dependent on 'the list?' That being the grocery/staples list? For example...husband needs deodorant..otherwise..stinky husband pits. Laundry needs bleach..otherwise..stains and dingy clothes. Kids need milk..otherwise...rotting teeth from juice boxes and the like. Dog needs food..otherwise...she pretends to be malnourished and eats every little morsel she can get her very long sloppy tongue to reach. Mommy needs to do 'the list' alone or she just might end up in a padded room before week's end.
Some adults loathe grocery shopping and especially on a Saturday, when it's crazy nuts out there. And by crazy nuts, I mean the other shoppers. But, part of my fun, besides not having the 'I want, I want, I need, I want trio' along, is to take my time and be able to people watch. I love watching others....deal with their children, their reaction to the 10 cart line at the check-out, where they park their empty cart out in the lot...just the day to day, but on a Saturday. This makes my life seem not so crazy nuts. I'm not the only one that needs a Saturday 'Ahhhhhhhh' break, I'm just lucky enough to get one!
And a huge, HUGE THANK YOU to my husband, who is quite capable at keeping the kids happy and content, so I can take a time out from 'mommy' for a bit and just be myself. I need this 'ME TIME.' It revives me for the next week ahead.
Now..off for a relaxing shower with no kid interruption. Then out the door with my lists and my camera and laptop.
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