Things I Love. . .

Onions? Yep, onions. This bag of frozen chopped onion and a bottle of olive oil is the start to almost any good meal. And because it’s already chopped it means no more crying and no more onion odor lingering on cutting boards and fingers. And its frozen, which means the right amount of onion is always ready and waiting in my freezer with no leftovers stinking up the place.

A bag of these babies is not always easy to find. In fact I have yet to see them under any of the usual frozen veggie name brands but Albertson’s does carry them under their store brand. And they’re worth the search because in my kitchen they rank right up there with my kitchen shears and bottled garlic as a sanity saver. Bon Appétit!

Only In Portland. . . .

There's more than one reason Oregon is green. Sure, one is the amount of rainfall that we get here, but the other is the amount of Hybrids on our roads. Especially in Portland. Eleven out of every 1,000 households in Portland own a hybrid car - the highest in the country as of 12/06*. In fact, according to an article in Willamette Week from 2002, Portland drivers owned 500 of the first 20,000 Honda and Toyota hybrids sold in the US. And that was back when being "green" wasn't even cool. But Portland isn't the only city making Oregon green. Bend and Eugene also ranked in the top 15 cities buying the most hybrids.

So I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise to see this parking sign this past weekend, except that hybrids are so common around here, we forget that they're actually something special.

Click HERE to get more info on getting a hybrid of your own!



*According to a report on Hybridcars.com

Mid-Life Crisis

Watching these guys on stage is like watching your dad - and sadly, now our husbands - relive their high school glory days. You just know its going to end up with Advil and Aspercreme. It's over guys. It was great, but its over. Accept it and move on.





And if you're interested, here's their new song, Summertime. Just as sad, you just don't know all the words. The peek-a-boo belly shot that Donnie gives us halfway through is especially naughty!

Never Forgotten

"The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” - Douglas McArthur.

Thank you to all who have served our nation.

Lost In Translaton. . . .

I'm not usually a pirate. I don't steal music or make illegal copies of movies, but we did order a set of 25 Disney movies from Ebay that have been quite obviously copied illegally by one Asian country or another. And its not because we don't want to pay the $22.99 for each movie, its because we can't pay the $22.99 for each movie. They're only available about every 15 years. And since I'm not sure Adam and Jamie will be that interested in Fox and the Hound when they're age twenty, Disney can just bite me on this one.

But along with this special "international" version of Disney movies comes a few surprises. Like, the subtitles. Suprisingly they aren't in Chinese. What they are is a hillarious attempt at English slang which ends up being more entertaining than the movie - at least for the adults. Sometimes the mistakes are understandable. Sometimes they simply make up their own dialogue to go along with what they think is happening in the movie. Other times. . . . well, check out the stills below captured from the timeless and endearing tale of Disney's Lady and the Tramp.

I Got UR Back, Dad. . .

Me: There’s a spot right there.

Damonn: (Silence)

Me: Or. . . there’s another one.

Damonn: (Silence)

Me: Seriously? Why are you still driving? Why do you always have to drive ten minutes, passing three spots before you finally find a spot to land? You seriously need to work on this issue.

Adam: (mumbling from the back seat)

Me/Damonn: What??

Adam: (mumbling louder) What difference does it make?

Damonn: What difference does what make?

Adam: (rolling eyes with the attitude ten years his senior) Which spot he parks in.

Damonn: You sooo just got worked.

Me: (Silence)

The Rising . . . .

To clarify things a bit about the last post and Barack Obama visiting Roseburg, that picture came from News Review website, not my camera. I wasn’t actually there.

But I was here. . . . . . . !!!!!

My sister, my 5-month old niece and I made it inside in the last few minutes before Sen. Obama began to speak. We could only see his head because of some damn blue canopy up front and we were denied the precious shade of a tree by a mere three feet, but I would do it again today if I could – only I’d go earlier. 72,000 people made it his largest rally by almost double and if he goes on to be the next President of the United States, as I hope he does, we can say we were there as his supporters in a history-making rally.

Besides the sheer number of people coming out in support of Obama – the Oregonian reported that one in 50 people in Oregon were at Tom McCall Waterfront Park – what I noticed most was that even within such a large crowd and with the temp reaching the high 80’s, everyone was still, well, nice. I recall one man, not an Obama volunteer, just a guy in the crowd, filling up cups of water from the provided faucets and handing them out to people in the crowd. He wasn’t looking for a handout, wasn’t selling anything, he just thought you might like a cup of cold water on a hot day. In another incident, Kim and I were struggling to get her Cadillac of a stroller through the crowd and down some stairs, and a young guy ran up, grabbed the front of the stroller and helped us get where we were going. And with just a single request from an Obama volunteer on a bullhorn, people from the crowd started helping them load up fencing and barricades after the rally. I can’t say for sure what this means. Maybe people were just happy we weren’t standing in the rain for once. What I hope it means is that they feel the way I do. That we’re tired of politicians fighting with each other over technicalities of special interests, tired of them promoting our differences rather than commonalties, tired of campaigns and policy based on fear and fiction. And that we’re ready. Ready to accept the obligation of serving our communities in exchange for a college tuition credit so everyone can afford an education. That those of us in an upper income bracket are ready to pay a bit more in taxes as long as they’re going towards putting not only books, but art and music and science back into the classrooms rather than to fund an endless war. Ready to make the changes in our homes and our habits to promote greener living and alternative energy. That we’re ready to be a part of bringing our country up rather than sitting idly on our hands while we watch it fall apart. And that maybe, the first step is something as simple as answering the call, both literally and figuratively, to break down the barricades.

This Just In. . . .

Here it is. . . . photographic proof. A democratic candidate campaigning in Roseburg* during a primary presidential election. . . . and people even showed up -1600 of them! Man, the devil is wearing ice skates today. Of course, I'm not sure if all these people showed up to see a presidential hopeful or just to witness a real, live black man.

Click HERE for the story. And HERE to watch the speech!

* For those of you not in the know, Roseburg, OR is my very conservative, very republican hometown.

Things I Love . . .

Although time just doesn't allow me to listen as much as I'd like, Rick Emerson and the crew at AM970 in Portland really are fantastic. They aren't the typical "drive time" radio personalities with funny voices and try-too-hard skits or the in-your-face political fanactics, in fact they pretty much destest those. What they are is hard to explain, but if you are between 25 and 45, have at least a vague knowledge of the pop culture of your youth and today (and enjoy making fun of it), wouldn't be offended by a segment titled "Penis Watch" and don't care about the difference between a primary and a caucus well, then Rick Emerson may be right up your alley.

Listen live Monday thru Friday 11:00am - 3:00pm on AM970

OR

Get a recap of the previous days show at 10:00am weekdays

OR

Download the podcasts of previous shows by clicking HERE.

The Power of We

As you may have noticed, a few weeks ago I posted an Obama 08 icon on the side bar. I’m not usually one to get that involved in politics. I mean, I’ve always voted and can probably name the presidents and vice presidents of the last thirty years, but I don’t put campaign bumper stickers on my car and the only sign I’ve ever planted in my lawn was one in support of the troops which was there both before and after doing so became a political statement. I’ve never been to a political rally, never given money to a campaign, and never gone knocking door to door drumming up support for any particular candidate. And so I it is surprising to me that I find myself publicly endorsing a particular candidate. And a democratic candidate at that.

I’ve thought for awhile for a way to express why I feel so passionately about Barack Obama and his ideas, but could never put the words to paper. I’ve come to realize in the last couple of weeks exactly why I believe in him so much. It is all about one word. We. His message is about is a sense of commitment, of inspiration, of leadership, of collaboration. Not about what he will do for us, not about what this country should be giving us, but about what should be in reach when you, yourself stand up to grab it. This is a sentiment I believe in whole-heartedly.

I’ve read his plan for the presidency and his book The Audacity of Hope. I’ve listened to his speeches and watched the debates and I believe he can lead the people of this country towards greater things. And if you are tempted to dismiss my opinion as another under-forty, latte-sipping, urban-dwelling (newly minted), blogging liberal, well, then take it from these guys instead. . . . .

The Boys Of Bend (OR)
http://my.barackobama.com/page/community/post/greghauenstein/gGBdmk


OREGON VOTES COUNT MAY 20TH

Flatulence Defined. . . .

. . . . . According to Adam
Fart: (noun) a wet toot.

Proud Mama. . .

Adam read this book last night! We picked it up at the library and he had read half of it by the time we got home. I've heard him sound out various words before but never just pick up a book and read it - it was really a little freaky. And between the booming beats of my proud heart I was totally thinking how the days of Damonn and I spelling unsavory words are quickly coming to an end. D-A-M-N!

Priceless. . .

Was creating a brand new song about poop or having a used Kleenex snowball fight part of your Mother’s Day celebration? I didn’t think so. I’m so much cooler than you.

Mom's The Word

I spent several days looking for a poem or a song to say what I wanted. Then I saw this. Leave it to the marketing team for a jewelry store to portray everything it is to be, and to have a mother in a mere 30 second commercial using only one word. Grab the kleenex. . . .

Happy Mother's Day to everyone!

Click here to see the video on You Tube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAaHTypIZhE

Things I Love. . . .

This week I'm showcasing the fabulous, the fantastic, the irreplaceable Zip It Drain Cleaner! What is so wonderful about this mere piece of plastic, you ask? Well folks, this is no mere piece of plastic. If you look closely at the picture you will see the upward facing plastic barbs down both sides of the Zip It. Now it is these patented barbs that are the key to the amazing functionality of the Zip It. You simply insert the Zip It into your gunky, clogged, slow-running drain and then pull to remove the grotesque amounts of hair, dirt and shampoo sludge that is keeping your drain from its full potential. What this simple tool removes from your drain will make you vomit and cheer for joy. . . It is THAT good. Seriously folks, fire those expensive plumbers, throw away those harsh chemicals, the Zip It Drain Cleaner is the only tool you need. Don’t believe me? See for your self by following the link below to watch a How To video. Never again will you wade in ankle-deep murkiness or throw money away on an unnecessary plumber. The Zip It Drain Cleaner will save the day!

Watch The Video!

Learning Curve. . .

Burning your tongue on your morning coffee should be considered just cause for heading back to bed. Then again, it happens to me so often that it may be more of a sign that I'm an idiot than it is a precursor to a bad day.

Bridging Science and Religion. . .

Adam: What happens if the weatherman is sick?

Me: What do you mean?

Adam: If the weatherman is sick how does the weather happen?

Me: Oh, well the weatherman doesn't actually make the weather happen. He is a scientist that looks at maps and pictures and then tells us what the weather will be like.

Adam: No, the weatherman sends a code to God and then God pushes a button to make the weather happen. So what happens if the weatherman is sick?

Me: I guess God would just have to handle things on his own for a day.

Step One. . .

This quote by Gandhi was part of Dalai Mama's latest blog at Wondertime. It supports my belief that if children grow up healthy and fed and loved, it is much less probable that hate will take root in their hearts.

"If we are to reach real peace in this world and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with children; and if they will grow up in their natural innocence, we won't have to struggle, we won't have to pass fruitless idle resolutions, but we shall go from love to love and peace to peace until at last all the corners of the world are covered with that peace and love for which consciously or unconsciously the whole world is hungering." - Gandhi, quoted in the book Above All, Be Kind.

Sunshine On My Shoulders. . . .

Finally, the persistant rain - and the unusually piercing cold - stopped long enough for us to venture outside this past weekend. We bared our arms in short-sleeve shirts and dug out the sunglasses from the "Summer" box at the top of the bedroom closet and set out for the Portland Saturday Market. It's embarrasing to admit, but I've lived here ten years and this was our first visit. We waded through the crowds checking out the variety of wares (and people) and gorged ourselves on a plethora of fair food including the sweet goodness of fresh kettle corn. Adam was amazed by the street performer especially the one juggling knives. . . . "Oh my gosh, that is sooo dangerous!"

It's afternoons like this that get you through another long set of rainy days that lie ahead. Well, this and the costco travel magazine.

Sleep Monster. . .

We recently moved Jamie into her “big girl bed” and at first she seemed to take to it rather well. She might get up a couple of times right after we leave her room and occasionally would cry for a few minutes, but compared to the year-long hurricane of frustration we experienced with Adam, she was a breeze. Was. Jamie has now changed tactics and is taking more of a “Gitmo” approach to parental frustration. . . . sleep deprivation.

As I said, she goes to sleep relatively easily and her peaceful face and deep breathing lures one into believing all is settled for a night of restful bliss. That is, until somewhere around 1:00am when something silent and looming draws you from your deepest sleep. There is no obvious reason for your awakening; no crying, no scrambling on to the bed, but there is something. Something is in the room with you. And as you become fully conscious to the point of opening your eyes you see it; standing there face to face with you in the dark, its eyes mere inches from yours glinting green from the reflection of the digital alarm clock. And as you fight to slow your startled heart, it speaks a single monotone word. “Hello?” You close your eyes in a feeble attempt to make it disappear, but there is no use. It is already patting your face with a clammy hand requesting, “Up”. So you drag your lifeless limbs from the comforts of your bed and lead it back to its own domain to sit and wait door side, head bobbing into uncontrollable sleep until its god-awful wailing turns into simple stirring and you can be sure that it’s safe to return to bed. . . . at least for a couple more hours.

This has gone on for days now, sometimes several times a night; sometimes at the five o’clock hour when you are miserably aware there is no possibility of her – or you - returning to sleep. It is at this hour that you then must play with her until the rest of the family rises and there is another adult with which to project your foul and sleep-deprived attitude upon.

I know all the new mothers I’m friends with are reading this and shaking their heads at how pathetically out of shape I am at this all night thing, but to all of you I say, SUCK IT! . . . . and go get me a Starbucks double-shot. I've done my time and now I want to go to sleep.

Things I Love. . .

I could pretend that I’m trying to pass on some kind of great wisdom or fabulousness ala Oprah, but honestly, I just figured showcasing things I’ve found, love and/or can’t do without would be good filler when I don’t have anything else to write about. And who knows, maybe you’ll find something you’ll end up loving as well. Just don’t expect to look under your chair and find said item tied up with a big red bow.

So here it is: the first installment of The Things I Love. . . .

I found this tea while rummaging in the break room at my office for something besides the usual offering of black sludge to stop the caffiene-deficient-induced cramps that were reducing my brain to the size of a small walnut. I was so pleasantly surprised that it has become a regular beverage of mine when the morning allows no time for a stop at Starbucks. It is sweet and spicy in just the right capacity which can be heightened even more by a splash of creamer. But I usually forgo that luxury not because of the added calories but because the only creamer available at work is the kind in the little individual plastic cups and there is something scary about creamer that can be kept at room temperature without curdling right there on the counter. But I digress.

This tea can usually be found in any regular grocery store, but if not can be ordered online at www.stashtea.com. Enjoy!

Getting The Most for our Pre-K Buck. . .

This morning while still snuggling in bed with Adam. . .

“So what did you learn for Kids Around The World Week yesterday at school?”

“We learned about Germany.”

“Oh, cool. What did you learn about Germany?”

“We learned that Germany used to be bad because they had a leader that was wrong so the Americans had to go and do a battle with them and the Americans won because they were stronger and now Germany is good.”

“Oh.”

Little Signs You're Doing Something Right. . .

Our recent spot of fabulous weather encouraged me to delve into the summer leftovers of kid’s clothes this weekend to see what still fits or what can be handed down. I love doing this. Between the hand-me-downs we get and our off-season clearance sale purchases, it's part rummage sale, part nostalgia – two of my great weaknesses.

As I dug through the large Rubbermaid tubs labeled “Big Clothes” I came across a T-shirt with “FOR SALE, My Sister” printed in a large, garage sale-type sign across the chest. Someone bought this for Adam when Jamie was born and being that it was a size 4/5, I had held onto it waiting for it to fit. It was still a tad on the large side but held it up to show Adam, reading to him what it said.

He just stared at me for a second and then said, “Why would a shirt say that?”

Obviously he didn’t understand so I tried to explain the joke. “You know how sometimes Jamie is really bugging you and you just want her to go away and leave you alone? Well, this is just a silly way of saying that. Its just pretend that you’d like to sell her so she can’t bug you anymore.”

He stared at me again, blinking, and then said, “Well, even when she’s bugging me I still love her.”

Of course. It’s moments like these that make up for all the times they crap in their pants.

Now With Less Commitment. . .

For those of you that may have been holding back comments because my blog required you to have a Google account to post, I say to you . . . . . "Be Free!" You can now comment annonymously until your heart's content. Please.

Archival Purge #2

Another little gem from the archives of my hard drive. This one a short piece I wrote for an online writing contest about the feelings of an inanimate object. Needless to say, I didn't win.


My dearest love,

Where did I go wrong? When did you stop needing me? When did you stop loving me? I once had all the answers, but now my heart is filled only with questions as to why we’ve parted ways. I thought I was everything to you. Was I not?
When you needed a plumber at 2am did I not have a name at the ready? When you couldn’t reach that last box of double-fudge brownies on the top shelf, did I not lay down at your feet? Did I not allow your endless, infantile doodling to tattoo my cover? And who, who, took the hit each time an insect dared to travel your walls? It was me. Every time, it was me. I’m the one that found your new gynecologist; I’m the one that knew who to call to when the car wouldn’t start and I’m the one that knows the number to your favorite Chinese take-out by heart, but apparently none of this matters anymore.

I’ve heard the whispers, the rumors. You’ve found some one new. Someone that isn’t so thick around the middle, that’s a little more portable. Yeah, I know I’m looking a little worn; a little tattered around the edges, but who wouldn’t after years of undying servitude? You gave me these creases, this wrinkled spine and now you’ve moved on. On to someone sleek and shiny who can give you answers at the push of a button. Well let me ask you this, you heartless wench, where will you be when the power goes out? Who will save you when your online sweetheart takes a dive? Don’t look at me. Your fingers have done the walking for the last time. I’ve done my duty and now I’m out of here. There was a time I would have burned my own pages just to warm your hands, but those days are gone. I will no longer allow myself to be used like an old phone book. I have more dignity than that.
Good luck in finding whatever it is you’re searching for out there. You’ll never find another love like mine. Never.

No longer your slave,

Dex

A Little Beauty!

Number three on our list of seven babies to be born within six months, but the first for my good friend Donelle and her husband Dan. May I introduce to you. . . .

Avery Isabelle

April 2nd, 2008
6lbs, 11oz 19.5in

Running With The Devil. . . .

While cleaning out folders on my hard drive today, I ran across a quote I had saved. It comes from the book Jesus and the Lost Goddess by Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy. When I opened it today it made me pause and think the way I remember it did the day I found it floating somewhere on the internet. About the abandoment and shame, the hate and torture, the bigotry and war that has come from organized religion throughout history. Each side fighting for moral superiority as if being right somehow ensures a place in the afterlife. Perhaps, as this quote eludes, the joke is on us. . . . .

“Religion is the Devil’s greatest achievement. In the guise of religion he has pulled off his most audacious coup. He has flagrantly masqueraded as God. He has had us bow down and worship him. He has had us commit every type of evil in the name of holiness. He has passed off his bigotry as God’s opinions. He has had us segregate humanity into the ‘ins’ and the ‘outs’, believers and non-believers, the saved and the damned. He has convinced us that God likes us but not them. And convinced them that God likes them but not us. An then, in a stroke of dark brilliance, he warns his faithful flock of sheep: ‘Be sure you do not heed to anyone but me, for the Devil is a wily wolf and he will surely trick you.’ “

Why?

New Kids on the Block reuniting

Story Highlights
Boy band New Kids on the Block one of biggest acts of late '80s, early '90s
Boston-based group's hits included "Hangin' Tough"
Group has new material; Donnie Wahlberg "had no interest [in] nostalgia tour"
BOSTON, Massachusetts (AP) -- They may be pushing 40, but the New Kids are returning to the block.
The boy band New Kids on the Block, which sold 70 million albums in the 1980s and early '90s, has reunited and plans to release a new album and go on tour. The reunion comes 20 years after the release of the group's multiplatinum album, "Hangin' Tough."
"The fan response to this has been incredible," band member Donnie Wahlberg told the Boston Herald.
Wahlberg said he was persuaded to get back together with his former bandmates -- Joey McIntyre, brothers Jordan and Jonathan Knight and Danny Wood -- when they decided to record new music. Wahlberg said he wrote 80 percent of the new material with McIntyre and Jordan Knight.
"I had no interest going out on a nostalgia tour and singing the same material," said Wahlberg, 38.
But he added: "We absolutely will do the old songs for sure."
Producer Maurice Starr formed the group in Boston in the 1980s, hoping to recreate the success he had with another teen group from Boston, New Edition.
At the height of their popularity, New Kids sold out world tours, marketed millions of dollars in merchandise and spawned a Saturday morning cartoon.
The group disbanded in 1994. Wahlberg has acted on television and in movies, while Jordan Knight, McIntyre and Wood released solo albums. Jonathan Knight became a real estate developer.

Copyright 2008 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.


Find this article at: http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/Music/04/03/people.newkids.ap/index.html

Numbers

An article that touched me. . . .

The Real Meaning of 4,000 Dead - TIME

Justice Failed. . . .

My parents asked me one day, quite bluntly, why I thought my hometown of Roseburg was such a horrible place to live. I was a bit shocked by the question and stammered out a response something along the lines of not thinking Roseburg was horrible per se, but wanting my children to have wider experiences and views than I grew up with and felt Portland gave them a better opportunity to do that. This recent news story helps illustrate my feelings.

You can read the whole story (which took place just north of Roseburg) here, but the gist of it is that three punks, apparently taking a break from mailbox baseball, knocked the turban off a Sikh truck driver coming out of a truck stop convenience store. They snatched the turban off this man’s head ran around the building and then sped away with it. They were identified through surveillance cameras and found a few days later. Charges were pressed, but a Douglas County grand jury failed to indict them on more than misdemeanor theft charges even though the law states that any act “committed due to the perception of a person's race, color, religion, national origin or sexual orientation” constitutes an intimidation felony charge. Somehow the people of Douglas County could not see that this man was targeted not as a random prank, but because of his religious attire. They should have asked themselves, would these “pranksters” have snatched the “Never forget 9/11” cap off a different truck driver’s head? Or tore a crucifix necklace from a different patron’s throat? I don’t think so. And think about how this may have played out if these roles were reversed. If a man in a turban had spontaneously and harassingly swiped a Dixie flag do-rag from the head of a trucker? The story would be about how at least one by-standing patron chased and apprehended the suspect and that he is now being held without bail pending a background check for ties to Al-Qaeda. And the whole county would be up in arms about the disrespect and disregard for our first amendment rights and the ability to display/wear articles representing “Southern Pride” and bigotry.

I know, this may seem like nothing more than a man that got his hat knocked off, a couple of idiots that lived up to their potential and then were rightly held accountable for the theft of a five-dollar turban. But to me, as someone who has been to this truck stop many times, who knows these guys, at least figuratively, as people in my high school, at my previous jobs and occasionally, in my family, it is more than that. It is attitude. It is the attitude that they do not have to respect someone that is different from them. It is the attitude that prevents this jury from seeing his turban for more than its monetary value. It is the attitude that will make the truck driver the punch line of their dinner-time jokes rather than the low-lifes that assaulted him. I am aware that these same attitudes can be found in my great metropolis to the north, and I am aware that I can’t protect my children from all acts of bigotry and racism. But I can keep from submerging them in it. And hopefully as they grow up they will see this story for what it is; not a tasteless prank but an act of humiliation.

Happy Birthday, Jamie!

Jamie, you turned two years old yesterday. Two years since my little blonde chickie came into the world. And as I watched your reflection in the side mirror and saw your soft curls blowing in the wind on our way to the park, I couldn’t help but think of all the wonderful things you are. But that was mostly because you were temporarily silent. Which was entirely the opposite of the car ride home in which you were screaming for more after being peeled from the playground equipment, your brother was singing an unintelligible song at the top of his lungs and somewhere in the background was the faint sounds of the new Jackson Brown acoustic CD we had all been peacefully enjoying twenty minutes before. And above this familial din, I could still hear the simple sigh from your father which I completely understood as, “Sweet Jesus, there is still three hours, a bath and a feeding until these things are in bed.”

And many more. . . . .

Alexander Adam. . .

. . . . and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning.

I don't like getting out of bed. . .

I don't like wearing adjustable pants. . . . (in his size the waist is adjustable by an elastic band and button inside)

I don't like when I have to take my rolling backpack down the front steps. . . .

I don't like it when there's no Chex cereal left at school. . . . .

Sigh. For the benefit of all of us I hope his day gets better.

Worth a Thousand Words. . . .

Create-A-Caption

Please submit your entries via comments.
(yes, that is her brother's underwear)

Message From Above. . .

I came upon this the other night while cleaning up the latest Fisher-Price explosion in my living room. Of course I took it to mean that I needed to add more sin to my life and promptly revisited the tub of Papa Murphy's chocolate-chip cookie dough in my fridge. Gluttony has always been my sin of choice.

Adjusting My Expectations. . . .

Damonn called me at work today to thank me for this wonderful fruit bouquet that I sent him from Edible Arrangements. He said the fruit looked beautiful and that it was so thoughtful of me to think of him and to take his diet into consideration as well. And then he proceeded to ask. . . . . . . . . . so what’s the occasion?

Um, Valentine’s Day.

The Right Woman For The Job. . .

Apparently, even a four-year old can’t escape the buzz of the presidential race and Adam has proclaimed that I, his mother should be the next leader of the free world. Although, I think he may have the ulterior motive of wanting to live in “that big house, that’s white”. I’m honored that he thinks I’m up for the job, but had to politely decline. I already have two full-time jobs and I’m not interested in another one where stupid people get a say my decisions. But if anyone knows of an opening in a monarchy, I’m sooo there!

Feeling Older Everyday. . . .

Overheard as Adam and his friend Megan started up Asteroids on our old Playstation this weekend. . . .

Adam: Have you ever played this game before?

Megan: Yeah, one time in a museum.

Out Here in OR-E-GONE. . . .

This was forwarded to me in an email today with a note that this is Jeff Foxworthy's interpertation of us up here in the Northwest. Now I don't know if this was actually penned by Mr. Foxworthy, but either way it pretty much sums up our way of life. So. . . . . .

You might be a "Northwesterner" if. . . . . . .

1. You know the state flower (Mildew).
2. You feel guilty throwing aluminum cans or paper in the trash.
3. Use the statement "sun break", and know what it means.
4. You know more than 10 ways to order coffee.
5. You know more people who own boats than air conditioners.
6. You feel overdressed wearing a suit to a nice restaurant or to church.
7. You stand on a deserted corner in the rain waiting for the "WALK" signal.
8. You consider that if it has no snow or has not recently erupted, it's not a real mountain.
9. You can taste the difference between Starbucks, Seattle's Best, and Veneto's.
10. You know the difference between Chinook, Coho, and Sockeye salmon.
11. You know how to pronounce Sequim, Puyallup, Haceta, Yaquina, Yachats, Issaquah, Oregon, Yakima, and Willamette.
12. You consider swimming an indoor sport.
13. You can tell the difference between Japanese, Chinese, and Thai food.
14. In winter, you go to work in the dark and come home in the dark while only working eight-hour days.
15. You never go camping without waterproof matches and a poncho.
16. You are not fazed by "Today's forecast: Showers followed by rain,"and "Tomorrow's forecast: Rain followed by showers."
17. You have no concept of humidity without precipitation.
18. You know that Boring is a town in Oregon and not just a state of mind.
19. You can point to at least two volcanoes, even if you cannot see them through the cloud cover.
20. You use the phrase "The mountain is out" when it is a pretty day and you can actually see it.
21. You put on your shorts when the temperature gets above 50, but still wear your hiking boots and parka.
22. You switch to your sandals when it gets about 60, but keep the socks on.
23. You have actually used your mountain bike on a mountain.
24. You think people who use umbrellas are either wimps or tourists.
25. You buy new sunglasses every year, because you cannot find the old ones after such a long time.
26. You measure distance in hours.
27. You often switch from "heat" to "a/c" in the same day.
28. You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit under a raincoat.
29. You know all the important seasons: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Raining, Road Construction, and Deer & Elk season.
30. You understood these jokes and will probably forward them.

Money I Hope I Never Get A Return On. . .

One of our local radio stations, 105.1 The Buzz is currently on the air for 28 straight hours holding their annual "Valentine's Day for the CCA" telethon which means that I've spent most of the morning re-applying my eyeliner and thanking the powers that be that cancer is not part of my daily vocabulary. The Children's Cancer Association is "an organization dedicated to providing comfort and compassion through a series of innovative programs and services". Services such as the Music Rx cart that strolls through the halls of Doernbecher's Children's hospital providing cd's, Ipods and instruments to kids. They also organize "Chemo Pals" who are volunteers paired up with kids undergoing chemotherapy. Chemo pals talk, listen, laugh and play with these sick kids and more than anything, give the parents a much-needed break. In the last few years the CCA has also built and completely furnished the "Caring Cabin" located on the Oregon Coast as a getaway for families dealing with cancer. To put it simply these people are the saving grace, the life line between desperation and hope for families diagnosed with cancer.

Besides hourly auction items and making direct donations to the CCA, the Valentine's Day for the CCA telethon is also offering $10 valentine e-cards. This is a perfect alternative to yet another box of chocolate and is a cute way to let all your friends know you're thinking of them as well. I have sent a card to all the young moms in my life and challenge all of you that also have healthy, rambunctious, whining, perfect children to do the same. Please help the CCA make a difference.

Check Yes or No. . .

Oregon isn't even holding a primary election today yet I've been glued to the computer hitting refresh on CNN.com waiting for the results of Super Tuesday to come rolling in. I watch as the percentage of votes rise and the check marks appear projecting the winner of each state. I even signed up for CNN's Political Market which is a virtual stock market based on your predictions of the ongoing presidential race. Yes, I'm a geek and I accept that, but I can't help it. There is something about the politcal process, something about watching a country of 300 million people peacfully cast their ballots to pick a leader of their country from canididates that include varying genders, ethnic backgrounds, religious affiliations and political factions all without a single incident of violence. That in itself is mesmerizing to me.

A Bright New Blossom. . .

I’m looking at the picture of Jamie from two posts down as I write this. I have it as my computer desktop and I’m not even one of those moms that usually do that, you know the one’s that think their child will physically disappear from this universe if the picture of their grubby kid somehow doesn’t make the transfer to their new laptop? Well, maybe that’s just in my line of work. But anyway; there is something about that picture of Jamie and the way that moment of winter sun lights up her face that warms me more than any island picture that has ever graced my desktop. Maybe it’s the light, but just as likely it’s that halo of blonde curls, or those blue eyes that dance with the excitement of every new moment or that still-chubby neck that just begs for one of those honking mouth-fart things – a zerbert, I believe they’re called.

She is emerging as her own little person and everyday is like watching one of those high-speed films of a flower blooming. Even in this, one of our coldest, wettest winters in many years, our little hot-house of a home seems to be cultivating her new persona as she surprises us with new words and understandings and abilities on a daily basis. She now insists on carrying her dinner plate to the sink and her chubby-armed hook shot as she helps me load the laundry into the washer is a sight to behold. . . . if only the Trailblazers had such accuracy. Her rapidly expanding vocabulary isn’t so much a surprise (we are thrilled that she is finally emerging from the grunt and point stage that her ear infections left her in for so long), but the occasional clarity of a word can leave the rest of us speechless. The other day she dropped something and followed it up with a very clear, grown-up, “Oh man!”. We all looked around like, who said that? It was like coming home and finding out the dog had the ability make crème brulee. Surprising, but awesome.

But the best part of all these changes is watching the expanding relationship between her and Adam. He is now finding her more amusing than annoying and she in return is finding him more like someone she might hug rather than someone whose teeth she’d like to remove with her knuckles. They are learning to share and take turns and tolerate and as nice as this is to witness, it also scares the hell out me for cooperation is only one step away from conspiracy.

Worst Quote Ever. . . .

"When the film knocks it up to that final gear. . . Jesus will weep - and you will cheer!" -Harry Knowles, Ain't It Cool giving a review of the new Rambo movie on Fandango.com

Bon Appetit! vol.2

Moroccan Chicken with Fruit and Olive Topping

Here's a recipe we tried and liked the other night. Damonn liked it more than me but he is such a fan of green olives that they're thinking of adding his face to the label. I cooked it as called for in the recipes (follow link below) using apricots, cranberries and prunes for the dried fruit. A little less salt is the only thing I think I'd change.

Recipe Here at Cooking Light.com

Enjoy!

My Pretty Girl. . . .

No story, I just love this picture. . .

Gender or Race?

A few lines from a recent CNN.com report (here) struck me as odd. . . .

Recent polls show black women are expected to make up more than a third of all Democratic voters in South Carolina's primary in five days.
For these women, a unique, and most unexpected dilemma, presents itself: Should they vote their race, or should they vote their gender?

Wow. That is an unexpected dilemma. You would think it would be finding the best person to lead this country through an array of both immediate and long term issues, but hey, that's just me.

Here's another goodie:
Analysts say black women this year never have been more engaged in a political campaign or held such power in determining the Democratic nominee.

As far as I'm aware everyone gets a single vote, a vote these women have held since 1920. So how is it they have more voting power this year or than any other citizen? Isn't it the engagement that is the key to the power in voting, not the color or sex of the candidates?

Politics, religion, the continuing success of reality TV, it all boggles my mind.

EDIT: It came to my mind yesterday that even though black women have legally had the right to vote since 1920, social and racial issues may have kept them from doing so until the more recent past. Even so, my point (which was directed at Randi Kaye, the author of this CNN.com article not the women she is writing about) still stands in saying that the color or sex of the current candidates does not give them any additional voting power, but that it is, possibly, the interest and engagement of these women because of these candidates that they are now using the power that has always been theirs.

God's Gym - I mean, Gold's Gym

Apparently there is a growing number of over-prudent college students in Provo, UT (wow, isn't that the understatement of the year) that feel that the videos being shown at the local Gold's Gym are "extremely indecent, and some are outright pornography". BYU student, Dallen Johnson has had to"run out" of the cardio cinema "four times" because of "racy and inappropriate things being shown". Why are you running, Dallen? What's that in your pocket?

And Jesse Yaffe adds, "Once you are a member here, you basically don't have the choice anymore. You're forced to watch indecent material because it seems everywhere you go there's a TV". I know how you feel, Jesse. I go to the gym and everywhere I turn, there's Emeril fisting a pork loin again. Its enough to make a girl go vegetarian. But here's an idea - if you don't like it don't join. Save your money, ride your blessed bike and avoid this apparent haven of profanity and lust.

This mafia of morality is also threatening to protest if their list of demands are not met within ten days. Demands which include keeping the TV's on "clean and decent" stations and "installing blinds on the Aerobics room to hide the dancing, which is very provacative".

I guess BYU doesn't teach that the best form of protest is not to buy the product.

http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&sid=2502027#

Resolution Proclamation

With you as my witness I hereby declare that I will finally complete Jamie's first-year baby book by her second birthday, March 9th, 2008.

Until the completion of said book I will not spend hours:

Watching Tivo'd episodes of The Office.
Planning vacations that I'm never going to go on.
Staring into the mirror wondering what I'd look like with a different hair color.
Reading reviews of books on Amazon instead of reading the actual books.
Searching the internet looking for the cutest possible Elmo party invitation.
Sorting through recipes on allrecipes.com to find the very best homemade mac & cheese.
Working on the puzzle we started on Christmas Eve.
Running circles in my head contemplating the existence of God.
Organizing closets that will be disheveled within hours by chubby fingers (the kids' not mine).

If it is not done I shall be held accountable and deemed a maternal failure to the tenth power.

My Wish. . .

Tears well and my throat closes everytime I hear this Rascal Flatts song on the radio, showcasing my unbelievable ability to melt into a sobbing maternal blob at the drop of a hat.
This dedication goes out to Adam and Jamie. . . . my wish for you this year and every year is happiness.


I hope that the days come easy and the moments pass slow,
And each road leads you where you want to go,
And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.
And if one door opens to another door closed,
I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window,
If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile,

But more than anything, more than anything,
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish.

I hope you never look back, but ya never forget,
All the ones who love you, in the place you left,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance you get,
Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake,
And you always give more than you take.

But more than anything, yeah, and more than anything,
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish.


My Wish - by Rascal Flatts (listen to a sample at this link - its way better than just reading)

Still Rockin'

Thirty pounds gone and I'm still rockin'!! And there's nothing better for kicking a little ass on the eliptical machine than AC/DC. I'm Back in Black, baby!

(click play button to listen)

It's A Girl!

Announcing the arrival of

Amari Jolee

Born December 18, 2007
1:18pm
6lbs, 15oz

My sister and Amari are doing great and Dad didn't even pass out! I'm so thrilled to be an aunt (again) and so excited to watch this little girl grow up.

Merry HO HO. . .

One glimpse of these "Santa Face Socks" as I stepped off the escalator at my local JCPenney store and I knew I had found the gift of the season. I'm really not sure what possesed someone to design a set of socks like this, or even more so who in the JCPenney purchasing department

thought this was a must have for the Christmas season, but boy I sure am glad they did. There is nothing like imagining the look on the face of a someone special opening these fantastic slipper socks to fill my heart with laughter and joy. So much so, I bought two.

Every Parent's Worst Nightmare. . .

This morning sometime shortly after dawn as the kids ran circles around the bed tearing at our covers like pint-sized barracudas, Damonn and I lay in bed weighing our options in regards to the brain shredding day of whining, fussing and sibling rivalry that stood before us.

Me: What if we locked in them in a room to fight to the death and just raised the one that survived?

Damonn: Nah, our luck they would join into one superhuman child with the power to overthrow us.

To My Sister, With Love. . .

I wanted to take a minute and write you a letter before the whirlwind of your first baby to tell you how excited I am about the pending arrival of my niece. You will be a wonderful, loving mother and I look forward to raising our children together just as we planned while playing house all those years ago. While we may not live next door to each other, and somehow we did not marry men named B.J. and Jim, I am thankful we are still close and our children can grow up having sleepovers and holidays together with their cousins.

I am also excited that you will soon be initiated into this magnificent, overwhelming, wondrous and sometimes terrifying sorority known as motherhood. There is nothing like it in the world. It will be everything and nothing that you imagined and no matter who or how much you’ve ever loved in your life it will be but a dim comparison to what you will feel for this child. Anyone who dares even insult your child will be met with the rage that every mother possesses and you will be willing to give your life for hers without the slightest hesitation. Yet in the same moment you may feel overwhelmed with the emotions and demands that come not only with a newborn baby, but with motherhood in general. They can be as demanding and never-ending as a ride on a hamster wheel so remember to give yourself a break. Not just physically, but mentally. Unload the guilt of thinking you can or should do it all and realize that no one can. No one can. I’ve been there and there is nothing worse than the crushing feeling of guilt when you think you aren’t being the mother your child deserves. You are everything she needs.

And please don’t hesitate to ask for help. Demand it if needed. Ask your husband when you need help with diapers or dishes; ask friends and family when you need a night away; ask pediatricians or child psychologists when you need help understanding your daughter; and ask God when you need guidance on the path of your family. And although admitting that you don’t know how to do something is not a popular concept in the family we come from, I’ve learned that asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but a trait of a strong mother willing to search out what is best for her child.

There are wonderful times ahead; cherish every one of them because as cliché as it sounds, it is the truth when I say that they will vanish before your eyes. In fact, if I can give you one certain truth of raising children it is this: Everything is a phase. Good or bad, exhausting or amazing, nothing lasts forever. Remember this when you don’t think you can stand one more night of crying, one more temper tantrum or one more snotty teenage remark. One day it will stop and you probably won’t even realize it when it does. More importantly, remember the small everyday things. . . . the smell of her hair, the way her face lights up at the sound of her favorite song, the wrong way she says a word. Take note and pictures and video of the funny and the fascinating because the milestones that amaze us are the memories that ache in our hearts when they are gone.

Reading this back there seems to be a certain sadness in my words which was not my intention, but I suppose there is a sadness that underlies even the happiest of moments. It comes from the worry that is inherent to the job of being a mother and the knowledge that everything we do for them is to prepare them for the day they let us go. Perhaps this quote from Elizabeth Stone explains it best, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Having children is one of the greatest things I’ve done with my life and I treasure the family we’ve created above all else. You too, I’m sure, will realize that the awesome responsibility of creating and guiding someone’s life is the most fantastic privilege one can receive.

I look forward to meeting this new little person that is already so loved. And to see the strong, sassy, determined, and loving woman she is bound to become. . . . just like her mother.

Love,
Your Sister

Caution: Know-it-all Ahead

On the way home last night. . . .

Adam: Hey mommy, ya know what that sign means?

Me: It means that we need to watch for people crossing the street.

Adam: Uuugh! No, mom, it means dat sometimes cars, umm, go up on the sidewalk and, umm, get dare wheels stuck and, umm we need to watch out for dem when we're walking so we don't trip.

Me: No, I think it means we need to watch out for the people that are walking.

Adam: No. Mom. It doesn't. It doesn't.

The Lowest Bidder. . .

This popped up as an advertisement on Google today. Some things just aren't worth the discount. . . .

Plastic Surgery Prices Even w/ Our Limo Service from San Diego Airport You Can't Beat Our Prices! Tijuana-Cosmetic-Surgery.com

Happy Thanksgiving to all. . .

Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving. ~W.T. Purkiser

Bon Appetit!

In our pursuit of a healthier lifestyle Damonn and I have been trying a lot of new recipes. Some of them hits, some misses, some just need a little personal tweaking either to suit our tastes or our limited time in the kitchen. Here are a couple of recipes that have become family favorites. Both of them are from The Sonoma Diet Cookbook which is filled with wonderful, healthy and for the most part, simple recipes. They even have desserts! The recipes below are written as they are in the cookbook with our personal changes in parentheses.


Grilled Mushroom Turkey Burgers – In our kitchen these days ground turkey is as versatile and as common as olive oil and garlic. These make great burgers, meatballs and by just omitting any particular “shape”, a great filling for tacos.

2 Tbs dried porcini or shitake mushrooms (I chop up one small can of canned mushrooms to save time)

1 cup boiling water (can be omitted if not re-hydrating dried mushrooms)

12 oz ground turkey breast

1/2 cup bottled salsa (we love marinara as well for an Italian twist)

(1 egg - I add this to help the patties hold their shape)

2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (we usually omit)

6 cloves garlic, (1 Tbs minced from jar)

2 tsp chopped fresh sage (we use 3-4 shakes of dried)

1/4 tsp kosher salt

1/8 tsp black pepper

4 whole wheat hamburger buns, toasted

Lettuce, salsa, sliced red onion, avocado, tomato (optional)

Rinse dried mushrooms and place in bowl of boiling water for 20 mins (If using). Drain and chop.

Combine all ingredients through black pepper in mixing bowl and mix well. Form into 4-5 patties, 3/4-inch thick. Cook on grill over medium coals or in frying pan on stove on medium-high until no longer pink (165F). (If cooking on stove you may want to cover with lid to help them cook through more evenly) Serve burgers on buns with desired toppings. Crunchy veggies make a great side!



Crustless Feta and Cheddar Quiche – When you just can’t take another cold salad and need something a littler richer, a little heartier this is just the ticket. Serving it with whole-wheat toast and some fresh fruit rounds out the meal.

Olive oil cooking spray

4 beaten eggs (we use five)

1/3 cup whole wheat pastry flour (I've used regular flour as a substitute)

4 cloves garlic (2 tsp minced from jar)

1 Tbs chopped fresh dillweed, thyme or mint (we use 2 tsp of dried dill)

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/8 tsp kosher salt

1 1/2 cups low-fat cottage cheese

1 10-oz pkg frozen chopped broccoli, cooked and drained (or medium head fresh, boiled and chopped)

1 cup crumbled feta cheese

1 cup shreeded reduced-fat cheddar cheese

Preheat oven to 350F. Lightly coat 9-inch pie plate with olive oil. In medium bowl, combine the rest of the ingredients and spoon into pie plate. Bake for 40-45 min. or until knife inserted in center comes out clean. Cool on wire wrack for 5-10 min before serving.


Click this link to go to The Sonoma Diet Cookbook link on Amazon.com

Death - 100% Satisfaction Guaranteed

Across the street from my office.

Afro Ninja. . .

Here's your laugh for the week. . . . My favorite part is when he tries to get back up. LMAO!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEtIoGQxqQs

Courtesy of youtube.com and rickemerson.com

A Bleeding Heart. . .

Anyone who spends much time with me is pretty quick to realize my feelings on personal responsibility. I believe we are all responsible for ourselves and the choices we make. Going through life with a victim’s attitude will get you no where and that we, above any government or social organization, are responsible for the safety and well-being of our families. It is because of this belief that I am a registered Republican. I know that can be a dirty word these days as can stating that you voted for George Bush, which I did. Twice.

I realize now that may be one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made. The thought that I’ve had anything, even a single citizen’s vote, to do with the chaos and devastation that has been brought upon the people of Iraq, breaks my heart. I didn’t vote for Bush because I thought going to war with Iraq was a good idea, but I figured if it happened, it would be similar to the Gulf War – short and easy. We’d walk in, find Hussein, put a U.S.-approved Iraqi leader in power, CNN would send in a few correspondents and we’d be home by Christmas. I’m apparently as naïve as our president.

What we have done to that country, to its citizens and to an entire generation of children is unconscionable. We have drug a global war into their living rooms and dropped it in their laps. A war that has no front lines but instead is fought in every corner market and every neighborhood school. A war that has brought such ruin that most do not have such basic necessities as water and electricity. A war that not one single Iraqi citizen instigated. A war that has such widespread violence that even The Red Cross cannot manage to have a presence. We are responsible for this. I am responsible.

Anyone who knows me also knows that beyond my views of personal responsibility I am also a participant and promoter of helping those that cannot help themselves. Charity, which to me means the responsibility we have to help one another, is a theme, a moral code I strive to teach my children from a very early age. I hope as they grow up they will come to understand that the two things that make a successful life are taking care of yourself and taking care of others. And that is what I am asking of you today.

Whether you voted for our president or your foresight was better than mine, we as a country have a responsibility to help those that we have harmed. Please read about the work the Iraqi Red Crescent is doing across their country and more importantly what needs are still waiting to be met.

"Today and for the last three years, the Iraqi Red Crescent Organization has been the primary humanitarian provider on the ground in Iraq. The employees and volunteers work under severe conditions and safety is never guaranteed. Global relief agencies like the United Nations and the International Federation of the Red Cross/Crescent have not been able to sustain a notable operational presence inside Iraq. It is up to the Iraqi Red Crescent along with its offices in Jordan, Syria, and Iran to bring to bear the technical capability, and financial support to ensure a rapid and successful response to the present humanitarian crisis facing the Iraqi people." - Iraqi Red Crescent website

Click here to help.

Article on CNN.

A Crack In My Psyche

"I don't know what to say about this — the way I incline towards sadness, latch on to it as it floats past, ride up into its currents. But it keeps me grounded somehow, however paradoxical that may sound." - Catherine Newman, Dalai Mama

I hate having my blog seemingly ride the coat tails of Catherine Newman's (read entire article here), but I'm not sure truer words have been spoken about my psyche and it seemed a good intro to a post I've tried to write several times, but never could get the words to say exactly what I wanted them to. I'll give it another try. . . .

They say things happen when you least expect them. I learned that when I was ten. Never once while I lay in bed in the dark at my grandma’s house that night, straining to listen to hear what the man at the door was saying or what the muffled commotion in the living room was all about did I imagine that they were talking about my mom. I knew that something was wrong, that someone was hurt or not well, but when you’re ten and the only death you’ve seen in your life is that of the family dog, even the far stretches of your mind cannot grasp the loss of someone close to you. Even when the thought of dying had flittered “what ifs” across my mind it was always about how sad my mom would be if one of us kids died. Never was it about losing her. I think that must be a type of self-preservation built into children.

After what seemed like hours of listening and my grandma had left in the car with her sister, I decided that it must be my great-grandpa that was not well, as he was in his eighties and they had taken turns taking him to respiratory therapy for years. The thought that he might be dead didn’t particularly bother me. I had only occasionally visited him with my grandma and he had been sick most of my life. In fact, after I came to this conclusion I was able to rest my mind and went to sleep. That was the last night of the first part of my life.

I learned a very important lesson that night. Expect the unexpected and prepare yourself for the worst because it can happen to you. And so, just like Catherine, I am drawn to sadness, to devastation, to heartbreak like a moth to a flame. Because if you can see it, imagine it and prepare for it, maybe it won't be so bad when it actually happens to you.

And this somehow, as she says, keeps me grounded. I know how lucky I am to have the people in my life that I do and I know how quickly it can be taken away. I know I am not above being dealt pain and grief in my life and I will never again say, "I never thought it would happen to me."

They Are Scaring Me Out, Man. . . .

. . . . is how Adam described any front porch decorated with more than a bale of hay. Even the flickering glow of a benign jack-o-latern was enough to keep him from the inevitable bounty of treats awaiting him on the other side of the front door. He managed to find a few houses that met his non-goul criteria where he scored what must have been nearly every “Reece’s Peanut Butter Butter Cup” in the neighborhood – well, except for those that managed to hide themselves behind the decorations of Satan himself. He then returned home where he gorged himself according to our newly sanction house rule of “all the candy you can eat on Halloween night”. Unlike his usual nature, he didn’t even stop to ask about the contents of each treat and instead was opening his next morsel, sucking up chocolate drool, before he had even finished chewing his last. In the end the count was seven, at which point he simply picked up his trick-or-treat bag, announced that he was done and retreated to the family room to watch A Pup Named Scooby-Doo – the one where “they are trick-or-treating just like I did”.