Sunday Evening

I'll try to get some pictures up here while the twins run through the sprinkler. It's not conducive to getting work done anyway.

These are all out of chronological order. The first is Ben, who insisted on being photographed next to the watermelon vines. That nonchalance was carefully posed.



The next is my father and my first born. Oh. my. My firstborn comes up to his grandfather's shoulder. It's a slippery slope from here.



There are better pictures of my sister's dance with her then brand-spankin' new husband, but I'm posting this one because it also has one of my brother's taking pictures of me which is just cozy.



The caption on this one is, "Okay, shizzle . . . what part comes next?"



Carefully choreographed buss.


Pretty baby sister.



My aunt and her first grandbaby.



That's really all I have of the wedding. I know. I suck.

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This picture illustrates a rite of passage if you will. The development of my baby's first marketable skill. The going rate for cutting the front and back lawn of my house *without* weedwhacking is $20 for a teenager. I know this because the week before I hired a teenager to do just that. So I now pay Max $20 to mow the front and back lawn of my house *with* doggy poop pick up included. Since Max is using a pushmower and not a gas mower (teen had gas mower) and since the pushmower then also requires a pre-sweep of the backyard to pick up sticks that will jam the blades, and most off all--since I believe that if you can afford it, paying your child fair market value is The Right Thing To Do. Primarily because children who know they're being underpaid will accept the whole "help the family" line up to a certain point. But they'll be danged if you're then going to turn around and insist that they save that money. Max is required to tithe 10%, save long-term (i.e., college) 40% and do whatever he will that is legal with 50%. So he gets $20 (and picks up the poop to "help the family"). It's not that we don't have "help the family" jobs. It's just that it's one or the other. No weird mixing. "Help the family" jobs don't get paid. You do that because it's your job. Paid jobs get fair market value**



I swear, there are only three tomato plants in there. I KNOW.

Here is Madam Zucchini.



Jack and the Cucumber Stalk



The evil voracious bean beetle.



Pickling cucumber. The black spiny things rub off when you wash them. Who knew? After church today we stopped off at Wal-mart (I know! I know.) looking for a blow-up pool because it's getting hotter and hotter and hotter and hotter . . . but no luck. We did find pickling spice packets but I didn't get them because they started the recipe with "15 lbs cucumbers."

Um. A four-inch cucumber is like 3 to 4 oz. I have seven cucumber plants and I know I'm about to be rolling in cucumbers--but you can't save the cucumbers for more than maybe two days. They get mushy in the fridge. Is this the point of brining them? And even then--won't the brined pickles still all be at different stages of brininess? (sp?) All I know is that the ball canning book gives directions with the individual spices so I can do a quarter of a recipe or half a recipe. I think that's going to work better. I gave up on the store-bought spices. But I did get more lids.



Does this need a caption? It's the first zucchini of the season.



The basis of future Mrs. Zook's Cream of Tomato Soup



All the little cillia are picking up the flash (the sun was setting while I was photographing the garden).



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Yesterday was a wonderful birthday. My mother was here and there was cake and ice cream and a day at the art festival. The kids ran through the fountains and played football in the open fields using the freebie give-away water bottles. I bought a small croc to use as an initial pickly croc until I can get a real one.

The kids/hubby were generous. If the phrase wooly board means anything to you, then I got one of those, Mason-Dixon Knitting, some yarn, and a book of lace patterns. Yay, birthdays!

And now, back to work.

**unless, as happens in real life, Mommy's client hasn't paid her in months. In which case you will be asked to take an I.O.U. or given the choice of declining that job. Thankfully, we haven't had this situation since the Bad Client of 2005.

Happy Birthday to Me!

You know how some years you turn a new year and that just suddenly seem so ooold and you so totally don't want to go there? And then some years you turn a new year and it suddenly seems full of promise? Like you have so much ahead of you?

37 (last summer) -- totally didn't want to go there.
38 (um, today) -- totally thrilled.

It just feels like a good year. So I'm off to eat the nutritious meals my husband has prepared for us today (that would be donuts for breakfast, fair funnel cakes for lunch, and ice cream cake for dinner). We'll go over the details (and the immodium) in the morning.

All Knit, All the Time

You ever have one of those days where you just want to pitch all your responsibilities and for just one day--knit from sunrise to sunset to bedtime?

And then you actually DO it?

And it's great!

But the next day you are so totally busted by your employer. And they lose their cool and totally fire you. And you miss your mortgage payment because you spent the whole day knitting?

You ever have one of those days? Yeah, me either--because whenever I fantasize about doing so I see it through to its inevitable conclusion--the part where we all starve to death because I just wanted to finish the flippin' sweater.

I. am. so. close.

But FIRST! First I must finish this . . . work thing.

Oh, get this--in State College? No pickling spices. Anywhere. Not at Wegmans, not at O.W. Houts--nowhere. I may have to buy my pickling spices online.

Now--from anyone who knows the difference--which is better, fermented pickles or fresh hot pack pickles? (Thor the angry black poodle says, "Who cares? Scratch my ears.")

Brain Cloud

I have a brain cloud. I don't know its source, and as I learned from Tom Hanks--it's not fatal--but it does make getting the BUCKETS of work I have on my desk done challenging.

I think the bigger issue is just that I can't get back on EST to save my life. I can't get up in the morning. I can't fall asleep at night. This is causing me to sit at my desk and stare at my computer and drool a lot.

In other news--my garden may be tested for doping soon. Every plant in it (except for the lettuce, which is being overrun by the viney things) is ten times its normal size and producing copious amounts of produce. I already have a zucchini the size of my head. Zucchini on July 10th? I thought that was an August phenomenon. After all, National Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbor's Porch Night is August 8th. That's a whole month away. Did you know that there is the same amount of Potassium in one cup of zucchini as there is in a large banana? The stuff is good for you. (And I love it fried in butter.)

I caught some big (shiny) beetles on the beans today. They were all in the same area--but decimating that one area. I got a pair of scissors and cut the foliage off and threw it and the beetles (still gorging themselves) onto the lawn of the neighbors whose dog bit our dog. (Okay, not really--but I thought about it. Instead I tossed it by the road and tried to remember to look in my gardening books to find a better solution.

The tomato plants are so HUGE--they really are amazing. In all my tomato gardening years (all three of them, spread out with other years in between) I've never seen tomato plants like this. They're tomato BUSHES. They could be tomato privacy bushes. For two months I very carefully picked off all of the sucker branches--but I gave up about three weeks ago when I couldn't really see into the mass of tomato branches and leaves anymore. Apparently the rain and the horse manure have combined to create The HULK versions of roma tomato plants.

My grape-tomato plant in the planter on the back porch--the one that shrugged off the hard frosts like they were an August evening--has produced about a dozen ripe grape tomatoes. I didn't have time to make a salad yesterday, so I picked them and put them in a glass dish and shoved them in the fridge. This evening I put them in a cup and dumped half a cup of cottage cheese on top of them.

Oh. my. heck. I have never, ever, ever had such sweet, flavorful tomatoes in my life. They burst right through the cottage cheese taste and I just had to blog my joy because I know my kids would just never understand.

But this batch of tomatoes was ahead of the rest of the plant and the next batch is still a vibrant green. It will be at least another week before I get more like them.

Then there are the pickling cucumbers. I didn't expect to see them out yet already either! But there they are. I don't see any smooth cucumbers--so either the "slicing" cucumbers were mislabeled, or they produce later. Right now all the vines that are producing are growing the same "I look like a pickle" cucumbers. I need to put a call into the aunts and find out what to do with the cucumbers now that I have them. I have not ever pickled anything before.

The sugar snap peas are sugar snap peas. They're delicious and doing well--at least until the beetles showed up today. Here's hoping they won't come back.

And now I have read Max a story, I have put Milo back to bed for the third time, I have balanced the checkbooks . . . back to work.

Sunday Post, Part A

Ironically, I didn't take many pictures of the wedding week at all. I had the camera with me most of the time, but was so busy with everything that I rarely got it out of the bag. I had high hopes to get some significant knitting done during my week+ away, but that didn't happen either. Well, I did get *some* knitting done and *some* work done, but not as much of either as I had planned.

It was a wonderful week in many ways. Max was terrific, and I had a wonderful time with my mother-in-law who has graciously agreed to move closer to us (as in--to State College) sometime in '07. While there will be some advantages to this move for her--including the most obvious, which is that you can get a really sweet apartment for what she's paying in mortgage in Northern California--we're really encouraging her to do it for purely selfish reasons. There's no changing the fact that she was born and raised in Northern California and that moving to Central PA at this point will be a sacrifice. We intend to make it up to her (and to paint her interior before the sale and to handle as much of the moving hassles as she'll permit us).

But I digress. My sister was an adorable bride-to-be and a stunning bride. Her husband-to-be was appropriately excited about the nuptuals and beside himself with joy during and after them. It was an auspicious new beginning for them. Many happy tears were shed. I met her in-laws for the first time and was just so pleased to find them as charming and warm as you could hope for. I don't suppose I can say it to her directly, but I'm so grateful for a year of learning to understand Max's Ukrainian piano teacher. Her accent isn't exactly the same as the elder Veytser's but it's close enough that I didn't have too much trouble understanding Yefim, a wonderful, big-hearted man who still carries a thick Russian accent. Alycia had mentioned that his English wasn't as good as his wife's, but I only had to ask him to repeat a few things over the course of the weekend--and we were honored to be seated next to them (our hosts) at the rehearsal dinner--so we enjoyed a nice long talk about American education, the importance of a strong music education, American sports, and the basic nature of a ten-year-old boy. I didn't grasp how lucky I was to be able to understand him well until one of my cousins came by to chat and it rapidly became clear that he missed absolutely everything Yefim said. His eyes got that confused look and his nodding and smiling became robotic. Yefim gave up and let his wife do the talking. So I picked up with him where we'd left off before the cousin came over. I felt priveledged to be able to enjoy the conversation with this witty and warm man. Thank you Mrs. Bernstein for giving me the key to that door. (And it's stuff like this that really make me wonder if there really are any coincidences at all.)

Flying was tough. I don't enjoy it. I was just trying to keep it together to avoid freaking out Max. Nutty parents make poor travelling companions. Being away from Chris and the kids for a week was tough. I didn't enjoy it. Financially it was prohibitive to take the whole crew, but it was too bad we couldn't all go. The twins would have had a blast around all of those relatives. My parents are visiting in another few weeks, so at least they will get to see the twins. It's been a year. They've grown so much!

Home!

Will blog all about it later. In the meantime, Chris' new blog is up.

Eee-yah!

"Eee-yah!" Is the Navajo equivalent of "Oy vey!" It sounds best in a Navajo accent, although it has no real meaning--much like "sheesh!" or "shyah!"

This week is an eee-yah week.

How's work going, Alaska?
Eee-yah! I'm worried I won't meet my Monday deadline!

Ready for the wedding?
Eee-yah. I would be--but I can't find the time to go get my nails done (which I need to do here since I refuse to pay California prices for the same ten pieces of plastic glued to my nails) and I can't find the time to get over and pick up the two outfits I left to get altered. Plus, there's the whole knitting thing that Charlotte so kindly nagged me about in the comments two posts ago.

Think you're going everything done that needs doing before you leave next week?
I honestly don't know.

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After taking Max to swimming this morning (it's always a "free play" day the morning after a meet)--

OH, wait. I totally forgot to blog that last night. Well, I have no pictures but suffice to say that Max was great. His head was "in the game", he gave it his all, he proved he could survive his first IM, and he was ready to dive back in for his final race (breast stroke) when the thunder rolled in.

And roooollllll in it did. The short version is that only about 12 minutes passed between the first rumble of distant thunder and the moment when the massive dark gray clouds covered the sky and unleashed torrents like you read about. The first few flashes of lightening were impressive, but nothing like the incredible show God put on only 15 minutes later. After the first roll of thunder, the announcer declared a 20 minute break to see if the sky would clear. Within two minutes he was urging people to take cover and then five minutes later he was telling people to go home--at a run--and stay OFF the DECK, PEEP-POL! I had given Max money for dinner at the first sound of thunder, so we actually succeeded in the 12 minutes we had in getting him 2 slices of pizza, packing up everything, and getting to the truck before the heavens cut loose. I didn't get the truck unlocked before this happened, and I didn't get anything IN the truck before this happened, but Max (need I point out that the kid was already wet?) got in the truck as soon as I got it unlocked and I only got meso-drenched tossing everything into the back of the truck. About this time the fancy lightning set in and Max was sure I was going to die. We headed for home, all the while both fearing and admiring nature around us--until we got about a mile down the road and we saw a father pulling a wagon with all his might, across the street. He was past drenched and drowning. There is lightning EVERYWHERE at this point, and he'd just come down the only totally open stretch in the area. He veered into the grass, scooped a two-ish year old out of the back of the wagon, and ran across the street in inch-deep stream running down the road, the wagon bumping and careening behind him. I intended to turn down that road and pick them up, but saw at the corner that they lived right there and the father--no doubt with his heart in his throat--was safely home.

So we got safetly home, too. The lights went out so we lit candles for the kids and then Chris and I sat on the front porch under the safety of the metal porch roof (what?) and watched the storm for a few minutes and talked. Then I got back to work (laptop has a smidge of battery life left. A smidge.) and Chris left to go on errands.

SO. Back to this morning. So I took Max to swimming and cast on for this thing for Alycia, all the while not really satisfied with the yarn I had. I decided it was time for a field trip out to Knitter's Underground. {warning: really cute kitten there}. Chris had been because he got me a swift there for Christmas, but I've never been I've been very, very loyal to Stitch Your Art Out. In this case, no matter how much I will it to be so, my dear SYAO really doesn't not have a cobweb and lace-weight selection of yarns. They just don't. And although I *can* buy yarn online, I hate that I can't poke the yarn and rub it between my fingers before I decide.

So I went.

:::Cue Fiona Apple song, "Criminal":::
I've been a bad, bad girl . . .
That's JaggerSpun Zephyr at a fair price. It wasn't on sale, but the prices at this store are surprisingly low for a Local Yarn Store. The place has been there a good long while, and I suspect that they *own* the property, which lowers overhead.

I picked up the latest issue of Knitter's which has a surprising assortment of Things I'd Actually Like to Knit. I want to make:






Only I would do that in the same yarn and colors you see below in the Orenburg sampler.


Although they're always sticking shoulder pads on that model which make the shoulders look lumpy. So she's a little sloop shouldered, so? Leave off the lumps.


Although I wouldn't be allowed to do that one until I finish my Waves of Grain sweater from Vogue Knitting Spring/Summer 2004. (I'd post a picture, but . . . I can't find one anywhere online!)

That's an awful lot more than the number of items in this month's Vogue Knitting magazine where I liked . . . only the skirt on the cover.

Anyway, I also bought a Jaeger Handknits book from 2002 with designs for babies and children because it has FOUR boys sweaters I would actually knit and put on my kids. The sizes only go up to 4-5, but I didn't let that stop me. The two designs I love the best look like they can be reasonably translated into a larger size.

And as I was waiting for some faceless person in the back to finish putting my JaggerSpun into balls (I gather they were taking it off the 1lb cones it comes in--normally I don't let a store wind my yarn anymore) I saw this incredible shawl on display. I stopped to admire it and it was in the SOFTEST yarn. "That's YaggerSpun, too." Oh! It was in the yarn I just bought for another project! "It's really beautiful," I said, speaking only the obvious truth. "Thanks!" she said. "I knit that for one of our lace classes." "Put it on!"

I put it on.

"So you want the pattern for that?"

I nodded.

Why do men thinking shopping is hard?

Here's a bad scan of it from the internet. It's sampled in black, but the nice lady at Knitter's Underground had rendered it in burgundy, which was stunning. I chose the greenish yarn in the photo above.



I also got a skein of Baby Ulle from Knitter's Underground and some mystery yarn (photo below). It was in their sale bin, labeled "fingering weight, 100% wool" for $2. I just thought it looked pretty and it is perfect for the little knitting project for Alycia.


By and large they carry brands that SYAO doesn't. There is only a little overlap in brands. Although SYAO can oder Prairie Silk for me--they don't carry it in stock. Knitter's Underground does. They didn't have the color I wanted in stock, but they have all of my other favorite colors. Feeling like a cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater, I ordered the red Prairie Silk I wanted for Max's sweater from them. They retail it for $1.50 less per skein than SYAO. Dude--he's a big kid and Prairie Silk comes in small skeins.

I still LOVE SYAO, but it's clear to me now that we weren't meant to have an entirely monogamous relationship. Especially not when the place was overflowing with spinning stuff. "Do you offer classes?" "Yes, in the fall. Come. They're a lot of fun. Are you on our mailing list?" "Nooooo . . . ."

So I am now, and I will go.

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So I finished the Orenburg sampler shawl, made inappropriately out of mohair and size 8 needles.


It was fun making the sampler. I used the snowflake design in the center and the finished product is more than three times as large as the sampler was designed to be because of the changes in yarn and needle size. But that makes it exactly the right size for Milo's doggy, Buttercup.

Today is every bit the soggy day the weather people predicted. Max and Chris are watching another Something Something movie--the Japanese animated film-maker guy. The twins may have been sucked-in to that by now, too. I'm off to do some more paying work and then I think this evening I'd better do some knitting.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

The tomatoes can't believe their luck, but the cucumbers aren't talking to me since I staked them and ruined their plans for world dominion. I didn't mention that based on their growth so far, I don't have a lot of confidence in the stakes, either--but what's a girl to do? The peppers are having a hard enough time as it is. The zuchinni is oblivious to everyone else and is just happily growing over the side of the bed and into the weeds below--which is exactly what I want it to do.

In spite of the drama of the weather report--it's really like one thunderstorm a day, and so far mostly at 2am. We went swimming as a family last night and followed it up with a dipped cone at Dairy Queen. Ben and Milo went up the steps of the water slide at the pool with Max. Ben came back down the steps. After many false starts, Milo got going. And although his face said, "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" as he came down the chute--as he splashed happily into the waiting arms of the lifeguard below (the sign says clearly they have to be able to swim, but this rule is waived whenever there is a reasonable number of people at the pool.) he declared, "I wanna go again!" And he did. Many times. "A MILLION times!" he told Chris. But he'll have to make that cumulative.

Work is kicking my tushka. So, I'd better get back to it.

Cooooool!

I ran right out and told the tomatoes. They said they weren't thrilled with the temps on Sunday and Monday, but they thought Thursday sounded dreamy. The watermelon, which never seems to get enough water, was thrilled with the news. The sugar snap peas said they were all for it and the cucumbers snickered and said if I didn't get them something to climb on soon, they were going after the peppers. And the first row of lettuce? It offered the opinion that it was ready to be picked. I stalled while I tried to figure out why lettuce matures so early in the season--long before there are any other vegetables to put on the rest of the salad. Plus--in hind sight--I'm not sure it's worth growing so much of it. I'll give you this: the lettuce is amazing and makes me never want to touch grocery store lettuce again. But my garden space is limited and the lettuce is the only vegetable I'm growing that can't--through any method--be stored.

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Thor was much worse this morning so I called the vet and they said to bring him in. I have more than made the vet's car payment this month. The spaying, the grooming (that's where I get them groomed), and now this . . . obviously I wouldn't be kvetching about the bill if Thor wasn't well repaired. They cleaned all his wounds (they found many more than I had) and loaded me up with three different meds. I was instructed to keep him drugged up for the next three days! Sheesh! But they don't want him running around on his bad leg and I can see why they're concerned about this. He also gets to take some SERIOUS anti-biotics for the next TWO WEEKS.
They offered to give me multiple copies of the receipt to go "discuss" the cost with the neighbor. I sighed and declined, offering my opinion that as much as the whole neighborhood knows that dog is vicious, the ultimate responsibility was mine since it was my four-year-old who let him out.

When I dropped Thor off at the vet, there was a strange dog there three times Thor's size. Thor wagged his weary tail and strained against the leash to go meet him with the small bit of strength he still possessed. The owner assured me that he was a friendly dog. I let the dogs chat. It didn't benefit Thor yesterday that he loves other dogs so much--and especially big dogs--(as long as they're not coming in his own house) but in general I want that part of his personality preserved. There are rumors of building a dog park in the area. I want him to be able to go unafraid.

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I'm feeling like I really need to get a start on the Orenburg shawl, so I've been working on the sampler the last two days. I hope to finish it tonight and block it.

Random Monday Thoughts

1. Max got his report card. I was nervous about this, but didn't need to worry. He got a wonderful report (with room to grow in writing--which we knew going into it). More than one teacher commented on his ability to work well in groups, his insight in reading-related tasks, and his "just fun to be around-ness" -- which is a marketable skill. I'll take it. Missing from the report cards were comments about his lack of attention span, his tendency to get out of his seat, and his poor behavior. Further proof that he's not in first grade anymore and maybe I should let go of that bit of post-traumatic stress disorder. Apparently his attention span is just fine, his behavior is average to above-average, and he stays in his seat. My primary goal in bringing the boy "home" was to "remind him who he was, to reclaim him from 'the world'--which was doing a shoddy job of helping me raise him--and to help him be happy while learning again."

Goals met.

2. Colored my hair. Now I look "about to turn 38" instead of "way older than I really am." Tomorrow I'm buying some hot-rollers to start experimenting with styling my hair so I know what to do with it on Vlad and Alycia's wedding day.

3. Made eye appointments with a developmental optometrist for all three boys. I did BIG research into this and found "the best" in Central PA (which means that she is, of course, in State College). Emailed back and forth with the woman asking questions and although she is head of this and chief of that--she does still accept some children as new clients. I love any doctor who will answer questions in email--so I'm willing to accept that her first open appointment was September 1st. Chris and I are both far-sighted. We both have "focus" issues (my eyes don't like to look at the same place up close. Chris' eyes don't like to look at the same place, either). So we're having more thorough diagnostic testing done on all three boys to make sure that nothing is missed and that anyone who might benefit from glasses--gets them. We already knew from Ben's testing a few years back that Ben is most definitely far-sighted. But there was no reason for glasses at that age. We were told then to have Ben retested prior to entering school. Because I'm teaching him to read now and because his preschool this year is mildly academic in nature--we're taking care of that this September instead of next.

4. There is a mouse in the space between the first floor and the basement. He's incredibly noisy and active at night. I can't figure out how to get a poodle into that space. He's probably counting on that.

5. Thor got out today and the next door neighbor's dog pulled out his stake and bit Thor in the leg (leaving a 1/4 inch open wound) and in the ribs--leaving one scratch and one definite puncture mark. It's enough to make me want to play the lottery. We really need a fence. I really need to not spend $3500 to make that happen. What do you do? We're looking into a way to put a net or something across the opening to Chris' garage. Having dramatically reduced the ways they get out--that's the last area of vulnerability.

6. Max started swim practice today. He's not the same kid he was last year. He's paying attention when the coach talks and staying on task. This evening there was a practice meet. While his times weren't great, it was the first time I have ever, EVER, seen him register that the kid next to him was gaining on him--and see him pile on the speed to pass the other kid. In short, Max *competed.* He has never, I repeat, NEVER displayed this behavior before.

7. Let me be clear here because it could sound like I'm complaining a lot about my son's behavior. My point is simply that my son who used to do miserable in certain group learning situations because of a failure to listen to the adult in charge has developed into a kid who understands now that no amount of effort or innate brilliance can compensate for a failure to hear (or read) the directions sometimes. He has always been and still is a kind, funny, generous child. He's just developed into a kind, funny, generous child--who is swimming the actual stroke the coach told him to. Some of us don't take that for granted.

8. It didn't keep him from forgetting his goggles for the practice breastroke race--but losing that race may keep him from doing that again. We'll see.

9. Emily is feeling much better. She's willing to forget I drove her to the vet last Friday if I'll JUST throw the flippin' BALL!! I keep telling her that I'm not allowed to do that yet--she keeps dropping the ball on my bare foot while looking peeved.

10. I learned today that Ben and Milo will be old enough to join the swim team next year. They just have to be able to swim from one end of the pool to the other. So. I have a new goal for them! Just as soon as they can swim 5 feet on their own--we'll work on 10, then 15, then 20, then 25 and TA-DA!!! My problem of "what to do with the twins on swim meet nights" is SOLVED. I have 12 months. No problem.

Awwwwwwwwwww

I went to Baltimore on Saturday with my mom and Max to meet baby Oliver. The baby is just incredibly adorable and my brother and sister-in-law were like a couple of pros with him. They looked tired--but on top of everything.

Max and his newest cousin

I shaved Chris' head again. Here's a picture of the results:

And this week will be a flurry of work and swimming and piano lessons and more swimming and more work and getting ready for my sister's wedding which is less than two weeks away. L'Chaim!

Homeschooling

It's Summer and that means we're back to homeschooling all three boys. I've been doing my best to get us off on the right foot. Max only gets math and writing. The twins get reading and math. That's really enough seeing as how I can barely find time to pee with work the way it is right now.

At any rate, I wanted to share our experiences with 100 Easy Lessons in detail, without necessarily leading everyone who ever googles the title of the book to this blog, so I made that a separate blog. Today I posted a conversation Ben and I had involving the word trat.

Congratulations!!!

Happy Birthday Oliver John!

And heart-full congratulations to Jason and Karen who are new members of the Mom and Dad club as of a quarter past 5 this morning. I couldn't be more proud of you both!

Pictures pending my getting down to Baltimore :)

Saturday

Today was supposed to be Max's "friends" birthday party. We were going to take the boys to a local Water Park. But Mother Nature threw a "high of 65" party, so we moved that back a week.

Instead, Max had a friend over. Then Chris took all four boys to see Cars, while I went to find a new pair of jeans and some "summer" shoes. We were all successful in our own way.

While I was waiting for them to finish up the movie, I finished one of the three sweater vests--only to find later (after casting off) that the neck was just too small for the twins' impossibly large head. So I frogged it and searched about on the internet for an alternative. I found it. I'm hoping to finish the neckline again tonight and then cast on for the second sweater. We'll see. I'm pooped and there is soooo much paying work to do tomorrow.

I logged on with high hopes of going back over the day--but it was kind of a quiet day and it seems to be avoiding being put into words. It was a nice day. I guess we'll leave it at that and hope that by the time I have to write anything tomorrow I will have recovered my voice.

In Which I Attempt to Blog

I've taken a couple of shots at blogging over the last few days, but I keep passing out with my head against the keyboard before I can finish.

Today's dirty little word is Lexile. We'll just leave it at that since either the word means something to you and you just groaned and nodded sympathetically, or it doesn't and I'd be whining just to hear myself whine.

I know I'm prone lately to blogging the laundry list that is my day, and I'm grateful to those of you who still somehow manage to find that interesting. Today is another laundry list, and yet . . . it's not.

I think the *reason* I blog my What-I-Did-Today lists--besides being inherently self-centered and sure that it's more interesting than it really is--is that I am deeply sure that in each way, each day is important somehow. Sometimes the list is there to help me find the redeeming value in the day--the reassurance that there was SOMETHING meaningful in the day. I didn't just give my kids one more reason to seek therapy as adults. Sometimes that's the purpose of the list.

And sometimes the purpose of the list is to celebrate a day. "Well done, Pig." I tell myself, having no farmer to do so for me.

And sometimes the purpose of the list is to go back and enjoy it again, before it slips into my memory--which is spotty, having been permanently damaged by so many consecutive months of sleep deprivation.

Let's go back through today and enjoy the highlights again. I don't have any pictures, since it didn't look like a special day to begin with. So I will make a concerted effort to spell things correctly for once. I want you to picture the day in your mind's eye and not be wondering for the nth time how I keep myself employed in publishing.

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The alarm went off at 7:06, which is where it has meandered to after having been dropped a few times. I originally set it for 6:55, and it has wandered since then. I got up, turned off the alarm, and walked back to bed. I tugged the blankets out from under Himself and tucked "my" half around Milo, who had been asleep next to me. I had a moment of gratitude for both Himself and Milo. They both look angelic asleep.

I let Max sleep in and spent some time at the computer. Then I woke Max and we had a hurried half hour getting people fed (by now both twins were up) and then I took Max to school. He's really enjoying school. I am relieved.

Back home I took the dogs on a walk and then went to find Chris. We spent an hour or so visiting with each other. We try to do this each Wednesday morning--just take an hour from the week and be with each other. Some mornings it's easier than others to let go of the enormous to-do lists and just focus on each other. This morning--maybe it was the sun, maybe it was getting enough sleep the night before--we had a really nice "date" here in our own home. We talked about--oh, everything. Finally, it was back to reality.

About this time last year I got RightStart Level B to try with the twins, but it didn't take me long to decide that they just needed more time with plain old object-number correspondence. They couldn't look at a small group of objects and name the number without touching each and counting. RightStart doesn't work well with that strategy, so I waited.

So I pulled out RightStart last night and looked over the first few lessons and then came up with my own "intro" lesson to assess whether or not they were ready. This morning I pulled out the abacuses--still in shrink wrap--and had them ceremoniously unwrap them. They did so with much ooohing and aaahhhing. We talked a bit about the five and five grouping on the abacus and then we counted the tens. Instinctively, they counted 1-ten, 2-ten, 3-ten, 4-ten.

Thing is--RightStart LOVES this. RightStart USES this to teach little people about place value in a way that seems to develop an understanding of base-ten place value like no other method of instruction I've ever found (okay, go back and read that in your Wallace voice--"RightStart, it's like no other method of math instruction I've ever found. Math, Grommit!")


Anyway, so we gleefully counted with "the math way of counting" on the abacus and played with numbers 6 through 10 as "5 plus X" which Ben would do by showing on his fingers first, then on the abacus. This slowed us down a little as it requires some concentration to show any number other than 1 or 5 on your fingers when you're four.

Then we played a quick game where I'd set a certain number of objects five or less out and they had to holler out how many were there--without counting. They did beautifully, although struggled with four.

Since my pupils were still full of enthusiasm--we quit. 15 minutes of math is enough for a four-year-old and I wanted them wanting more. They knew they'd done well. They glowed.

I made an early lunch of good deli meat with fresh veggies on good bread . . . it was an unusually good (if low key) collection of sandwiches.

I worked for a few hours on the Lexile business and then faced the fact that I needed to go to the library to get more books. It was well after lunch now and getting on towards the time when someone needed to get Max, so I offered to take the twins with me to the library. Chris thought about it and tossed Max's bike in the back of his white truck. He'd go get Max and then they'd go to the bike store to get some seasonal work done on Max's bike. They'd check on the unicycle while they were there.

Meanwhile, the twins and I had a wonderful time at the library. Four-and-a-half is old enough to entertain oneself for hours in a good children's section of the library, and the new library has a wonderful children's section. Ben was in a Mom-and-me mood, so he sat with me the entire time and--since I needed to skim through each of the books I was getting anyway--we would read the more promising ones aloud. If Ben said, "My turn" when I was done--which is what they do when they like the book you just read to them and now they want to quickly read it again, memorizing the words you just read--then we kept the book for my work project.

After a couple of hours we had 28 books, so we headed for the self-checkout and then to the Children's librarian desk to sign up for the Summer Reading Program. Milo very carefully wrote his own name in his book, but was upset since he knew the "s" in his last name was wrong in some way. We managed to beg a treasured eraser from one of the librarians, and Milo and I wrote the s together.

Back home we had an early Taco dinner on the deck and then Max went off to play with the neighbors while Chris and I hung out on the deck and talked about a variety of subjects including but not limited to--the marketing of Britney Spears, the role of the corporation as "human being" and the effect of shifts of polarity on the planet.

Finally, it was time to get back to work. We pulled the two youngest back indoors and Chris went off to paint bodies and I went back to the Lexile stuff. My step-mom called and we discussed my sister's wedding plans. I got a great idea for a Father's Day gift. I kept working.

At bedtime the twins and I did a bit of work in MCP Phonics kindergarten and then read some of the books they'd picked out. They then passed out and I went back to Lexile.

It was an ordinary day. Nothing momentus happened. But absolutely nothing went wrong. Every ordinary thing was somehow less ordinary. In spite of taking more family time than usual--somehow the day grew. I still got in a full work day. It was just an especially nice ordinary day.

10 Blessings on a Thursday Night

1. Knowing that he's so excited to go to school that if I sleep through the alarm, he'll get me up anyway.
2. Clients that pay on time.
3. An email that says your last play was funny--and you had meant it to be. (and implies that the author thinks made that spelling error on purpose--haha Alaska, you joker) (and that the play will still be funny after you fix the spelling error)
4. Really Big Fans on really hot days.
5. Fresh lettuce from the neighbor's garden.
6. Being given the time and opportunity to do the job right.
7. $6 shorts at Target, two each of three pairs--so cool, the twins agree to not be naked for one whole day.
8. Aluminum foil (I don't like to put fish directly on the grill--falls apart when I go to flip the fish)
9. Marrying a man honest enough to leave his name and number under the windshield wiper.
10. It was just a little parking accident. Noone got hurt.

Amen.

The DaVinci Code Review

by Aunt Charlotte.

"Went to the "DaVinci Code" last evening. (Inserts excuse for taking time off from her knitting.) I enjoyed it. Good action adventure, which means it was entertaining and pretty tame for me to like it. The REAL mystery of the "DaVinci Code", is how a woman, no matter how petite and cute, could run (and she ran!) around the streets of Paris and London, around a castle, get knocked around a bit and knock people around a bit, run up and down stairs in very old churches, IN FOUR INCH HEALS! (with no panty hose). Now, they were sensible four (that's 4) inch heals, not stilettos, but still. And the action started around 10pm, so presumably she worked all day, and the movie ended with her STANDING, chatting with people. And the shoes looked very good at the end- no scuffs. I tripped on the stairs in the movie theatre in clogs! Now figure that one out!"


And that was MY laugh for the day :) Makes me want to see the movie though, and I had no desire to before this.

Phew

Radishes from your own garden . . . . . free
propane for the grill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $35
french onion dip mix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $0.69
kids in the sprinkler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . no idea but I know my water bill just keeps climbing

Knowing that your kids got enough of you, you got enough sun, and you're still making your Tuesday-morning deadline . . . priceless.




(Having to get back on the BRAT diet today--big fat bummer, and I'll probably have to do another day of it since I kept stealing potato chips at the BBQ this afternoon. But the other stuff above outweighs all that.)

Sunday

Beautiful day. Some work, some futzing in the garden, some church, some running through the sprinklers--giggles, shrieking, "Ready to come in?" "Nooooooooo!"--some pushing people on the swings, some BBQ pizza (my first try at putting pizza dough on a grill--works REALLY well!), some low 80-degree temps and sunshine. One really great day.

Check, Check, and Check

This one is going to be a long one and it has a gazillion pictures, so if you're on dial-up, go get a pop or something while the page loads. I did resize the pics for once, so maybe they won't take up so long to load. Maybe.

Yesterday I got it into my head to clean my office. This is what the rest of the basement looked like.

This is what the office looked like.

This is Thor hiding in his kennel in case I took it into my head to throw HIM away. He does need a good trim, but I wouldn't toss him over that. Silly dog.

After three hours, I'd made a lot of progress.

Sensing a disturbance in the basement yin and yang, the twins got to work.

But in the end, I prevailed.




That was yesterday. Now we'll cover today.

I didn't intend it to be a Memorial Day Weekend kind of day. Because Mom was visiting, I was okay with getting the grill to a place where it would work again and I was okay with doing, say, the backyard while she was here.

But it didn't work out that way. In my usual way, my realistic plans gave way as I added "just one more thing" here and there. My first mistake was in going to bed at a reasonable hour last night and then sleeping until 9:30am. With so much sleep under my belt, I felt ready to do anything. So I got the silly idea that I could do anything.

My second mistake was in going to Lowe's on Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend just to get a propane tank and "a few pvc pipes for the garden" (to string up tomatoes and beans). My jaw dropped as I came within sight of Lowe's. For yeah and verily, the last frost is past (it was this past Tuesday) and with a three-day weekend ahead--everyone's a gardener. I found a parking space. I was lucky. There were people circling the parking lot as if it were Black Friday in Christmas season.

I headed over to the garden center first, drawn by the smorgesbord (sp?) of plants displayed and the incredible crowd (we're all such caterpillars--obscure 70's book reference du jour). They had cucumbers, and I wanted cucumber plants, so I picked up four pickling and four slicing. It wasn't until I got home that I realized that all the sticks say simply, "cucumber"--so I guess we'll have to see what they look like when they mature. I got four more pepper plants--some hot, some sweet--one single zuchinni plant, and a watermelon plant (for Max). They had a six pack of cheap tomoto stakes, so I dropped the pvc pipe idea and bought two packs.

Now, the lines in the garden center were the sort that ruin even the most seasoned shopper's weekend, but as I was picking out cucumber plants (very near the checkout area), I heard one of the managers announce to the crowd that they were opening a third checkout area there. The spot was obviously used maybe twice a year (maybe only on Memorial Day weekend, frankly) and not very many people heard the guy. By the time I was ready to checkout, there were only two people in her line (she was hidden behind a wall of less attractive perennials). So I totally scored. Not only that, but she couldn't call (there was no phone at her station) to tell anyone to meet me at the propane place, and I lucked out again in finding the manager guy hiding behind a wall of wheelbarrows making a personal call. I smiled innocently at him and waited. He called for a propane guy.

So, I was in and out of there in 15 minutes which was just total kismet, frankly. I stopped at Wegman's for buns and ketchup and drove home.

But on the way home I knocked over every little plant--twice. So when I got home I felt like I really had to get the plants in the ground now, today, before they all died of "falling over in the truck" shock. (That's a technical term.)

So I started with the garden. Milo picked all the radishes that were ready to be picked--most of them, all but four, really.


This is fine, since there are already new radishes growing in one of the patio containers.


This picture is for Connie. These are the onions, leeks, and lettuce so far. The lack of rain did a number on the lettuce. It's only just starting to grow. There are a few radishes left on the far left. That area will get planted in carrots soon.


These are the cucumbers (left) and peppers (middle) and sweet peas (right). I need to plant some more sweet peas now that the bales of hay are gone from around the garden frame. (There wasn't really room before.) The big pepper plant there in the middle and the two next to it have been in the garden for over a month (surrounded by the hay bales at night for warmth). The others are new.


Here's a picture of the sloping portion of the front lawn. You can see the tomatoes staked in the back of the garden. Only three of the tomatoes are left over from the cold frame experiment (three out of five did beautifully. two didn't.) The others are little tiny plants that I planted three weeks ago (seeds in dirt in plastic cups)--but since they have their true leaves, I'm taking a chance that they'll do fine now that the weather is warm. I've had them outside during the day every day of their little lives so far anyway. In the front is a broken pot that I dug into the side of the hill, a sort of mini-"raised garden" to give Max's watermelon plant good dirt to start in with good drainage (remember, the rest of the yard is solid red clay) and to encourage it to grow all around the slope and kill the weeds. I don't know what I'm going to do with all that hay now that it has served its purpose as a cold frame.


This is the backyard patio grape tomato plant which apparently never got the memo about it being a tropical plant. It survived over two weeks of very cold night-time temperatures and at least two frosts. It had gotten too big for me to cover it, so I left it to its own devices and it thrived. All I did today was finally buy it a stake and tie it up. It already has green tomatoes growing on it.


The patio and chairs got a good cleaning. It was MUCH filthier than it is shown here. This is post-grilling. We'd already consumed yummy burgers and the first grilled corn of the season. This picture was taken in the evening when most of the backyard was already in shade.


This is the riot of pink things that live on the side of my house. Today's "check mark" was to cut back the ones around the little tree. I bought the trees last year, but didn't have a hose that would reach to them. Without lots of extra watering, they really didn't grow. They'd grow a limb, then it would die, rinse, repeat. I didn't expect it to live through the winter. It did. I've been watering them faithfully and they're already looking much better than last year. But the pink thingies were crowding out the Japanese Maple, so I cut them back today in hopes of getting it some sun. The other white stick back there is where the other maple is. It's not a Japanese Maple, it's some other ornamental, smallish maple.




I planted these last year thinking they were perennials. They're not. So now I want more of them so they'll go all the way around the pear tree. If they're going to come back every year, they should be a complete circle. At least, that's how I think about these things.


Last but not least, the front and back lawns were raked and mowed. That's my Mom wearing my old karate uniform and teaching Ben to cut the tall weeds on the edge of the lawn with scissors. Milo was helping earlier, before he fell out of love with the job. He had the spirit of the project, but not the purpose. He kept chopping off the tops of the weeds, leaving most of the weed still there. But hey, at least he wasn't running in the street.



Child Protective Services, I'm ready for my inspection now.

24 Hours

I only know what I read of the show since we don't have television in that capacity. But I gather it somehow takes the entire season to show you the passage of one very full day.

My 24 hours started at about 5 pm last night. I woke up from a badly needed nap and bonked about in a blearly state for another hour. I must have fed people, but I don't really remember what. It wasn't anything elegant or well developed. I was halfway through a tummy bug and already 24-hours into eating nothing but white rice and apple sauce.

I'd spent the better part of the day working on more of those mini-plays and now I was in a bind. I needed to get some work to my little side project and it was due the next morning. Only, ethically, I owe everything to my Primary Client, so even with this other thing hanging over my head--anyway, you get the idea. I'd just finished the first leg of the triathalon and now I needed to get to work on the next portion. It was at about this time last night--9-ish--that I realized that I was in bigger trouble than I'd thought. I needed to finish three of these math thingies and I thought I'd only had two. I reported to Chris that I'd be up late. He would go on to conveniently forget this and harrass me to go to bed for most of the next five hours. He would then stubbornly stay up as he hates to go to bed first.

So I figured out the best solution possible, embarked on it, finished up around 2:25 in the morning, went to bed, fell asleep maybe 20 minutes later. Got up at 7:00 and roused Max, did something useful with the dogs, distributed peanutbutter to the masses, ate some more white rice, and got back to work. At 12:30 I emailed off the last of that--everything was good. Client was happy. Client did leave little note that she was sending me 5 more of these thingies and could I have them to her by June 5.

If I pull that off, I deserve dinner out or something. You should see what I have due by May 31st. I'm supposed to go to a Memorial Day picnic at a friend's house and I already don't want to. (But I will because I realize I'm being unreasonable.) I suck at putting work aside and "forgetting about it" for a few hours. In fact, my mother is coming by Saturday afternoon and I agreed to a four-hour break from work. This has been worrying me so much that as I stood on my deck this evening worrying about when I was going to get the lawn mowed this weekend, it occurred to me that I could work on the lawn while she was here. She won't mind hanging out outside with the kids while I pick up dog poop, rake, and mow.

Chris is going to LOVE this little development, as he hates yardwork, and I'm going to bug him to help me.

Where was I? Oh, yes. So now it's a bit after noon. I fax off an invoice and made everyone some lunch. I tried a weight watchers frozen meal that looked relatively bland. My stomach did not rebel. Yay! Stomach flu over. I then hit the third leg of my work triathalon. Now I needed to review a bunch of stories, type them into a spreadsheet, get them off to Fedex early enough to have Fedex come to me instead of me going to them. Blessedly, I'd had a friend help me by reading all the books first and I just had to pick and choose what I liked best from her favorites, already matched to themes. 90 minutes later the box was ready to go.

Now, a few weeks ago when I took all the food storage and split it into mylar bags for everyone, I'd run out of places to STORE the mylar bags while I was doing this, so the twins helpfully dumped every plastic tub of toys they own on the floor and I filled them all with mylar bags. As of a week ago, most of those plastic tubs were empty again, but I hadn't gotten around to facing the Mt. Everest of toys on the floor.

In the meantime, Chris had set up a playdate with one of the other SAHD's and it was threatening to rain. They might come back here if it rained. This meant it was time to pick up Mt. Everest.

So, running on fumes, I did. Chris went and got Max from school and Max helped me with all of the vidoes and gaming stuff. It took an HOUR to get the basement ship-shape, but, except for my black hole of an office space, the basement now looks quite nice.

This of course meant that not only did the rain not come, it cleared up and turned quite nice.

I didn't care. I shut the curtains in my room and went to bed. Chris took the kids and went to the park.

When I got up 90 minutes later, my 24 hours were over. I walked to the park, feeling a little post-nap stoned, gathered the gang and took them out to Subway for dinner. I wasn't going to cook, but you don't go straight from white rice to delivery pizza in one day. That's not smart. Subway with the whole gang was fun. The boys were quiet and well-behaved--in large part because after over an hour at the playground with friends, they were all so starved that they couldn't eat fast enough. When my four-year-olds were done with their six-inch subs, they started in on Chris' chips. They frighten me sometimes.

Now here we are, home again, home again, jiggidy jig. I need to write one. last. play. Then I'm off to bed for a full 8 hours.

Milo Won the Epic Battle to be Model

Jawoll Jacquard Superwash. I don't like how the heel turned out. I'll make it wider next time. But it might also ease up some with blocking. The toe turned out okay. My grafting is so much better than it used to be, but I'm not thrilled with it.

Now, I need to make its mate :) It worked well to have it next to the keyboard to serve as a sanity break.

And now, one little My Kids Are Cute picture

Blah

I really should just go to bed. It's 1:00 am and I'm suddenly mad. Well, mad as of 11:30 pm. It was a productive day. I worked all day. I would get stuck for awhile and knit some on my sock, and then I worked some more. So in that way, it was a good day.

But I didn't get all the stuff DONE that I wanted to get done this weekend. I wanted to spend more time knitting, more time reading, and I wanted to finish three vowel-specific plays. Apparently that was too much to ask. So there was very little knitting done--some sock knitting today, but . . . I'd really wanted to finish the Orenburg sampler. I didn't even get the book open.

What DID I get done? I don't know. Some work. I worked all day today because it was Ward Conference and I admit I never go to Ward Conference. I went once with all three kids when the twins were 18 months old and I still suffer from tics when I recall that two-hour block of time and the way that it seemed to take 20 minutes to walk from where we were sitting through the aisles with all three kids because Max couldn't carry a twin, the twins couldn't walk, and at 25 lbs each or whatever they were then, they were a LOT to carry together. screaming. howling. All I know is I walked out the door and I won't go back for that particular meeting until the kids are maybe all in high school or something. maybe.

The twins had been asking for bikes so I gave them the spot in my budget I'd set aside for yarn for a sweater for Chris and bought two bikes at Dick's sporting goods. I'd checked Target, but a) they only had one 16" bike in stock (soooo unlike my beloved Target) and b) it looked like a toy, not a bike. (This is pretty common in the 16" size. You don't start getting into better quality until the 20" size.) But for a little more, I could get two 16" bikes at Dicks, and they came with an actual chain guard and front brake that really works (not that a front brake belongs on a 16" bike but whatever).

Ben and Milo haven't been on two-wheeled bikes before, but that didn't stop them from hopping on and figuring it out pretty quickly. My biggest problem was that the helmet Milo picked out didn't fit him, which I didn't know until we got home because of the way it was packaged. He wore it anyway, but he'd have been up a creek if he crashed. I went back today and traded it in for a larger size. Anyway, they're thrilled.

Planning is full speed ahead for summer. We're registering Max for summer swimming and fall football this week. The twins have to wait another summer to get to do anything because of those fall birthdays. So they get private swim lessons instead. Max's birthday party is scheduled and the invitations went out to the three boys who will get to go. We tend to keep these things small. There's a water slide not far from here--we'll take the boys there for the day and have cake and ice cream and bad food for lunch. Hopefully it won't rain. His birthday is two weeks from yesterday (gulp) but the party will be on the 10th because he has other plans for his birthday. He says he wants weights for his birthday. And then he rattled off a bunch of other stuff that I didn't bother to write down. I told him to go to Amazon and make a list because he can do that. I don't think he has yet though.

I want to teach the twins to read this summer. I can't tell you the huge amount of guilt I have surrounding this. I really feel AWFUL about it, which shouldn't be--I made no effort to teach Max to read beyond just reading to him all the time at this age. He wasn't ready and I knew it. Problem is that Milo and Ben are ready . . . and I know it. So every day I don't do anything about it is another mark on the Sucky Mom Calendar.

I know. Go to bed, Alaska. Okay, I will. I don't promise to blog tomorrow. I gotta finish those plays, then maybe I can play nice again. We'll see.

I Guess I Needed a Saturday

Now that it's 11:00 pm, I guess I have to face the facts that my brain and body needed a Saturday. I needed to run errands and pay bills and make plans. I did get about two hours of work done, but that didn't amount to much.

So this one client, my primary client, is very different from the sort of company I usually work for. There is a VERY long ladder in educational publishing from down at the bottom to up at the top and I'm not even sure where on that list the people who actually get their names in the textbooks appear. Normally I'm about a two or three rungs up from the bottom. My name appears nowhere in the book and a lot of people have taken their share of the pie before I get a slice (which is why a large textbook project can run about 65 million dollars--my pie slice is still a good one). But every so often I get to work with this one particular team out of sheer luck--and the fact that I somehow keep my head above water and make myself useful when we do get to work together. My name still doesn't appear anywhere in the book, but the whole method of payment is very different because I'm not working for the middle man now. I'm working for the company whose name actually appears on the spine of the book. Instead of waiting 45 days after I get paid, I get paid in 10 days to 4 weeks. Instead of getting a handwritten check, I get direct deposit. NOBODY else pays in direct deposit in my line of work.

At first I was sure this was wonderful. And it is. It is wonderful. But as time goes on and I become aware of how totally RANDOM the rate of invoice processing is--and therefore the FACT that although I'm being paid more often, I just never know WHEN I'll be paid--well, it's disconcerting. And since I'm taking every dime that comes in and immediately turning around and sending it back out again in anticipation of the day that I can say honestly that our only debt is our mortgage--it's still a bit stressful.

Now, normally if I'm going to get paid I get an email on a Wednesday evening between 7 and 8pm telling me that an EFT payment was processed. This means that the money will appear in my bank account on Friday. So after I pick up Max from drama on Wednesday evening, I go home and get online and watch my AOL mail box for an hour.

Sometimes--yay!

Sometimes--nothin' (said in the voice of Cornelius the Miner)

This week--nothin'

I wasn't really expecting it. The typical amount of time it takes them to pay me is 19 days after I submit an invoice. That's not till next week for this particular invoice.

But every so often, on some OTHER day, I'll get the email. The first time it was a Monday evening. That made sense to me since I was told that sometimes they make EFT deposits on a Wednesday. Wednesdays and Fridays and that's it, I was told.

But the second time it appeared in my box on a Sunday night and the money was there on a Monday! I was a little freaked! But I didn't say anything. Just paid the bills. You would, too.

And today, just as I was starting to get useful there with work--the email. 2:45 on a Friday afternoon--"We paid you! Just lettin' you know." Only, you know, in bank talk. (This is to notify you that an EFT payment has been processed blah blah blah.)

And that was the end of my tentative concentration on work. Now I wanted desperately to balance the checkbooks and pay bills. Now that the balances just go down and not back up, I love paying the bills. Take that! And that! You slimy interest-charging swine . . . (except taxes. I never love paying taxes. Earlier this week I was over at the yarn shop and there was noone else in there so one of the owners and I had a grand time preaching to the choir about self-employment taxes.)

But afterwards, after the checkbooks were balanced and the bills were paid, I got to thinking about the randomness of these payments. I'm not complaining--I should make that clear--I'm still getting paid faster than is the norm for me--but the control freak in me finds it all disconcerting. I am reminded of the Tarot Card of the Hanged Man.



Now, the Hanged Man can have a number of different meanings depending on its position, including that of a martyr and other less benevolent meanings, but the meaning that resonates the most for me is that of "loss of control".

Eeny, meeny, miny, mo,
God has got you by the toe.
If you holler He will know,
It's not time to let you go!
-me

Much like those weedy things in Harry Potter 1, the second of the challenges that Harry, Hermione, and Ron had to face once they got past the three-headed dog--the way "out" of this predicament is to relax and stop fighting it. The whole POINT of this position is to learn to trust that you will be taken care of. Your needs will be provided for. You're not in charge and yet you'll be just fine.

I'm very familiar with this card as back in the days when I did tarot often (it's not really an LDS-friendly activity, so I don't often indulge anymore) it came up in almost every reading I did for myself. Call it a life theme. I don't trust God and the Universe to provide me with things I need--love. food. shelter. And so He is persistent in teaching me that I just could. not. be. more. wrong.

So anyway, this thing with the EFT payments appearing out of nowhere in my in-box. It's disconcerting, but it makes me laugh at the same time--since deciding to get the heck out of debt once and for all, I haven't had one day without work. I'm employed by my two favorite clients. I really enjoy what I'm working on. I even feel as if I'm coming out of a burnt-out period. My work is better than it had been. If I will stop fighting--if I will just hang here and enjoy the circumstances--the dividends are incredible. All the husband and children I've wanted, all the house and home I've wanted, all the everything I thought I had to fight to get for myself.

Well there. Off to bed. Since today was Saturday, I'd better make tomorrow Friday and get a good amount of work done.

Friday

I've worked more than 36 hours in the last three days, so I wasn't terribly shocked this morning to find that I overslept. I remember getting up with the alarm, getting dressed, sitting down in the green chair in the living room to put on my shoes--and coming to 1 hour and 45 minutes later.

I let most of the rest of the morning slip by listing a few homeschool books for sale, answering email, writing up to-do lists, and watching a movie about Wal-mart with Chris. Not only did the movie completely distract me from anything work-related, but now I feel obligated to boycott Wal-mart. This isn't a big deal for me since I only shopped there three times a year anyway--but it does create a moral dilema for me with Sam's Club. Do I finish out the year with my Sam's Club membership? Or do I tear it all up and get more of the food storage order stuff mail order? Sam's Club has been a lifesaver when it comes to bulk purchases of food. What to do?

In other news, Chris and I are exploring alternatives to the fence idea having gotten some of the estimates back. While we still consider it a necessity, like the roof, if it's going to cost almost as much as a new roof, then it has to wait. We may instead purchase cheap patio furniture and an easy-up for shade so I can work on the deck and keep an eye on everyone. It doesn't solve my problem of the kids rolling balls down the hill, but it's something.

Didn't get much knitting done in the last few days. A few inches on a child's sock, that's about it. I'm hoping to do a little reading, a little knitting tonight. So I guess I'd better get back to work on the paying stuff.

But the Cat Came Back the Very Next Day . . .

My Toshiba Satellite laptop is the computer with nine lives. It has survived being dropped (not forcefully, not from a great height, but one of those slow, steady slips to the ground), having its battery charging chord yanked out of it's back by a thousand tripping twins (and having it's connector thingy welded back to the mother board by Toshiba because of this), being schlepped all over town (I know, it's a laptop, but it's one of those wide-screen desktop substitute laptops), and having water spilled on it. As of today, water spilled on it TWICE.

I was panicked, but the accident happened just as I was finishing up printing out a gazillion pages for the work I needed to do today, so after I mopped up what I could, I unscrewed its tiny screws and then set it up in front of a fan with it's guts hanging out so that it could dry out while I worked on --get this-- paper. In the end, I got quite a bit done, what with not being able to procrastinate on the Internet, and Toshiba gamely started up again three hours after the water bottle incident.

In fact, the way that it all worked out, I even managed to distract my brain from noticing that I turned something in around 12:30 and I ploughed right ahead with the Other Thing I had to get done today. So I finished that up tonight and sent IT in. I still have crazy amounts to do before close of business on Friday, but at this point, I still have a prayer of getting it all done. Normally by Tuesday I'm already conceding a certain amount of defeat. In this case though I seem to actually be getting caught up a bit.

I didn't get a lot of knitting done today--four stripes on the Green sweater--that's it. But that's okay. I only read another 40 pages in the knitting mystery. Then I felt obligated to try to go to sleep, since Chris had passed out on me an hour earlier. I closed the book, I closed my eyes . . . nothin'. WIDE awake.

dum de dum dum dum dum . . . sigh . . .

Then I remembered the chicken I'd been defrosting in the kitchen. Tomorrow night's dinner is a turkey leftover casserole, but I don't have any turkey leftovers, so I planned to cook chicken in the crockpot all day and then use that. So I got up again and started that plan early. I'll be able to pull out the bones in the morning. I started everything in the crockpot and noticed the time. It was 11:58. I'd been thinking it was 1:30! So I felt better about things, but was still wide awake.

So we get a short blog to help unwind the wound-up synapses. Now off to bed.