Hasta Luego!

I'm heading out tomorrow morning on two back-to-back trips. I cannot wait to leave the office today and begin preparations for these exciting 10 days. How fun it will be! 6 days in Orange Beach will be a blast. I plan to:

• sit on the beach under my umbrellas listening to the waves and reading. I will bring with me the following books (some of which are easy reads and will be one-day books no doubt): Faking It by Jennifer Cruisie, Tied to the Tracks by Rosina Lippi (Sara Donati to those of you who have read her Wilderness Series books--I've yet to read anything penned under Lippi, so I'm interested to see the difference), A Rose for the Crown by Anne Easter Smith, Elizabeth and Darcy: Days and Nights at Pemberley by Linda Bertoll, The Runaway Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini, Morality for Beautiful Girls by Alexander McCall Smith (3rd in the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency books--excellent reads, btw), and The Last Picture Show by Larry McMurtry (which I started last night and seems to be pretty good so far).
• Cross stitch on my newest project Bitter Flower Sampler. Janice, you would love it as it has a red sunflower and a bee and says "The bee sucks honey out of the bitterest flower." Very folksy.
• Pet baby tigers.
• Eat crab legs.
• Sleep late.
• not work.
• Walk on the beach with my sweetheart.

When we get back on Thursday, I have to go take a stats test and then get home so that I can get up EARLY to fly out to the quilt bee. There I plan to:

• laugh
• shop
• quilt
• play games
• listen to stories
• AND WIN THE QUILT!

I'll miss y'all over the next week when I'm unable to write. Just think of all the stories I'll have when I get back on July 10th!

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Book Review, Parts 1&2

I have been reading Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell for probably 2 months now. I find it easy to put down and not return to for days, so other books have intervened, and the reading has been slow, but I find myself saying that and thinking "I really am enjoying the book."

It's been a very weird reading experience for me, though. I usually read a book and, when I'm not reading it, think about the characters and what they'll do next and how they'll react in whatever situations I'm in. This book has not excited that sort of imagination in me and I can't really explain why.

Let me back up a little. JS&MN is a BIG book (over 840 pages) and is organized into three main volumes that focus on each main character. Volume 1 is Mr. Norrell, Volume 2 is Jonathan Strange and Volume 3 (not yet read) is John Uskglass. The characters are interesting, their plights are sympathetic, the plot is good, the "fiction" of the narrative is engaging, the language is fabulous, but something is lacking for me and I'm having a very difficult time putting my finger on it. It, for whatever reason, is not drawing me in. I feel very much like an outsider in this story; yet, I WANT to be an insider.

A little selfishly, I'm asking other people to read it because I want to find out what it is about the story that I'm not getting. Someone needs to explain to me why this book has had such a huge mass appeal and why it gets 4 out of 5 stars on Amazon.com. Am I the only person that is reading this book and thinking "what's so special?" But as I said, the weird thing is that while I'm reading, that's not what I'm thinking. It's just after I put it down that I don't feel a compulsion to get back to it.

After spending years and years in graduate school and reading loads of books that I didn't want to, I promised myself that I would never finish a book if I decided, at whatever point in reading it, that it wasn't worth it. I quit Mrs. Dalloway 15 pages from the end and never even thought twice. I've tried twice to read What Maisie Knew and made it to page 78 both times. I tried Kite Runner, but didn't get more than 50 pages before I decided it wasn't worth my time. The Life of Pi, my bookclub kept insisting, was a great book, and if I'd just keep reading I'd be hooked. I stopped at p. 100 in the middle of a sentence. I'd tried long enough. I love books in a series, so I thought that I would give Phillipa Gregory's Wideacre series a shot (especially after reading The Other Boleyn Girl, which is excellent). Quit Wideacre roughly half way into it when the sister started having sex with her brother so she could keep the family home--I knew it was not gratuitous sex, we really did get a picture of the depravity of the sister, but I wanted no part of it.

And despite myself I keep coming back to JS&MN. I do want to know what happens next, I just don't need to know that today. I finished Volume 2 last night and will leave the book home over my beach and quilt bee trips. Maybe the ending is what makes the book worthwhile, or maybe it's the journey and the questions it makes you ask. I'll try to have some sense for you in the next couple of months when I'm finished...

Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?

I do.

10 years ago, David and I began our annual pilgrimage to New Orleans for the 4th of July weekend. This weekend is special to us because it's when we had originally set our wedding date. My mother nixed the idea of a Hawaiian luau at the farm for our wedding celebration, so we decided to go the traditional route and get married at the church in December instead. We still celebrate July 4th as our anniversary though--why not? It's another opportunity to get jewelry each year :)

That first year in New Orleans over the 4th of July reminded us why the rates were so cheap--it's hot, humic and pretty miserable in New Orleans in July. But we still loved it. Then we discovered the dueling barges fireworks, which were amazing. Until this year, we've only missed one 4th weekend in New Orleans.





Last year we took the kids and went to the zoo and rode a carriage and overall had a great time despite Tropical Storm Cindy.







We also had a fabulous dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. I believe this is Mr. B's Bistro.















We also took a paddle boat ride which I'd wanted to do for years and years.

I miss New Orleans like I would miss a friend who died tragically and suddenly. David and I moved down to Hattiesburg because of its proximity to NOLA. We couldn't wait to go have fabulous meals every month and go listen to jazz and watch people get hoodwinked in Jackson Square. I couldn't wait to discover more about this old city and learn to love her nooks and crannies. I couldn't wait to go shopping at Rumors II, and the quilt stores, and the cross stitch store, and the needlepoint store. The mall in Metarie was fabulous. I loved riding the trolly cars. I miss all the things about the city that made me happy to have it around--how it made me feel, the relaxation and fun that I had there, the memories associated with every place and street and restaurant that we ever visited. From my first visit to New Orleans for Carolyn's wedding, I was under her spell.

There's an edginess now that hasn't been there for many years. People who have made the trip down there talk about how eerie it is, or how scared they were that they were in danger.

As the 4th of July approaches, I think how different this year and many to come will be compared to my most recent 4th holiday celebrations. We're taking the kids and one of their friends to the beach. I know it'll be fun and an opportunity to make new memories and start new traditions (and for an Aggie, this is always a good thing), but it is sad to let go of New Orleans and what I'd come to expect of my 4th of July celebrations.

Sugar Free Week 5, etc...

Yeah! I've made it 4 full weeks and am looking down the barrel of WEEK 5! After chomping down donuts, candy and ice cream in Orange Beach the last time we were there, I knew it was time to quit...and it was such a good decision. I still feel great, am NOT feeling tempted to "cheat," and believe that I'll make it through more weeks sugar free and feeling great! The next Orange Beach trip begins Friday morning, and I am READY! I'm really looking forward to some fresh peaches and strawberries...life coudn't be much better.

On other tidbits of news...David shaved his beard this morning! He looks like a kid again. After shaving once and not telling me that he was going to (which ended in me crying and not looking at him straight for days), he has always given me a couple of weeks to adjust to the idea and get ready for the baby-faced David. He looked soft fresh and happy this morning, so that must be a good thing.

Girls are finished with driver's ed. They never did make it on the interstate, but I know there will be plenty of opportunities in the future.

OB in 4 days and QB in 11! I can hardly wait for either. The beach is going to be so relaxing and wonderful, and the bee is going to be so fun and wonderful. I do have a terrific two weeks ahead of me!

The Beach

In one week from today I will be leaving my house and going to Orange Beach, Alabama. This picture was taken from the balcony of a friend's parent's condo which was 6 months later pretty messed up from Hurricane Ivan.

I am really really looking forward to the beach. When we got home from our Memorial Day trip I thought we were nuts for going back so soon. Did we really need another beach vacation in such a short time? The answer is a resounding yes!

With things so crazy and busy around the office I need time to remember:

• That I love my family no matter how messy, grumpy or crazy they are
• That sitting and doing nothing for days in a row is a very good thing
• That I love reading books just for fun
• That I don't have to be perfect
• That pleasing others is really optional
• That pelicans are probably the coolest animals on earth (outside of elephants and kitties)
• That if I don't get every single little thing accomplished in my day I am still a good mother, friend, wife, worker and student
• That sitting in a chair with your eyes closed, feeling the sun on your skin, listening to the waves, and feeling a breeze may be what heaven really is like.

So, I cannot wait to be completely lazy and relaxed. I will enjoy everyone for who they are and simply be able to enjoy myself for who I am. I will sleep late and drink wine in the afternoon. I will wear sinfully comfortable clothes every single day. And the fact that we have a jacuzzi tub in our room makes everything even better!

And I will absolutely ooh and aah every time a pelican flies by our window!

The Hives are Back

I have hives again. They started about a week ago after I had a pizza from a new cafe in town. Two little ones on my right hand on either side of my middle finger knuckle. Then yesterday on the way home from work, a big one popped up on my right thigh. I know this is just the beginning of probably months of hiving.

The heat doesn't help. Not being able to take benedryl all day doesn't help either. Itching them is a bad idea, but how can one help it when they feel like fire! Oh the quandries!

The first time I had hives was in 7th grade. I woke up with my mouth swollen inside out, my eyes swollen shut and a horrible looking collection of hives all over my stomach and back. I had another outbreak (smaller, but still with the grotesque looking face) about 3 months after the first. The dr. said it was definitely something I ate--probably tomatoes and oranges. Nothing you can do about them but take benedryl and wait for them to run their course. Then nothing until I was in graduate school.

That time was just annoying. I broke out in hives every day for months and months. I was studying for my comprehensive exams and was stressed about the whole ordeal. And for good reason as this was the exam meeting that ended in absolute disaster--"who cares if you've spent the last 6 months reading from this list," my committee said, "you need to start over with a different list. Oh, you're broke and tired of it? That's just life as a graduate student. Guess you shouldn't have gotten married and had kids if you wanted this career." After I picked myself up from the utter shock of that ordeal--the hives were gone and not to be seen again...until last week.

Am I freaking out because I am similarly entering the final stages of THIS PhD? Or is it just that life at work has gotten ridiculously stressful of late? Or is it that I keep WAITING for someone to follow through with the promise to hire me to do the evaluation work I want to do? Or is it having teenagers has finally pushed beyond my ability to tolerate? Or is it simply something I ate?

Nevertheless, I have a magnet that I picked up when visiting a friend in Portland, Oregon. The basic premis of the words on the magnet are dream, laugh, enjoy yourself. In bold letters across the top of the other five or so phrases is written in script "Live Loudly." During my ordeal with the hives in Kentucky, the girls were just learning to read script well, and they thought it read "Hive Loudly." Guess I need to take a deep breath and try to follow the REAL words on that magnet and hopefully this outbreak of hives won't be so bad...

Quilt Bee Countdown!

16 Days until the 14th Annual Thornton Thimblers Quilt Bee, so I decided to do my favorite 16 things about the quilt be...in no rank order:

1. Being the youngest person in the room.
2. Laughing so hard my tummy hurts.
3. Getting to know my aunts, cousins, and mother in a special way.
4. Making a quilt (of course).
5. Reading stories--oh, my! Still have to WRITE mine!
6. Playing all kinds of games.
7. Making BANANA jokes whenever possible.
8. Fantasizing about that greased down hunk named Ted.
9. Going shopping.
10. Remembering about quilt bees past.
11. Eating all that yummy food--usually packaged in a "themed" meal (Irish breakfast, English tea, Chinese restaurant)
12. Getting away from the real world for 3 days.
13. Sitting on Auntie J's deck and looking at the view (though this isn't true for ALL bees).
14. That glass of wine before dinner.
15. Making Auntie J laugh until she cries.
16. WINNING THE QUILT!

And Another One Bites the Dust!

This morning I heard our secretary talking about selling prices for her home, closing costs and that sort of thing. She was providing full information about her and her husband's contact information, etc., so being the "newly ensconced"** Leslie, I just assumed this meant that she was selling a house in Missouri where she and her husband hailed from.

But I was wrong. She's selling her house HERE and moving to MO. This after a phone call last night from another person I know on campus who is looking for a new job. If she can't find it on campus, she'll have to move, but she doesn't want to. This after my office neighbor moved to a new job in the business college last week (and she's still sorely missed! Who can I go run and tell about something crazy I just did...not to mention it's awfully lonely back here in my closet all by myself). This after I found out that one of my favorite profs is moving to North Dakota! NORTH DAKOTA! Is Mississippi really all that bad?

I mean, I know that the hurricane really messed things up around here and that it's not been a picnic since then, but is it really necessary to go and pull the rug out from under my feet all at once. I need something to hold onto. Something steady in my life to keep me from spinning totally out of control--you know how the skaters focus on that one spot and snap their head around as their spinning around so that they don't get dizzy. I need my focus spot, and it seems like everyone around me is just up and moving so that there aren't any focus spots left!

I also know that summer here really stinks. It's hot and muggy and doesn't let up until October at the earliest. But it really isn't all that bad. We have air conditioned buildings and houses and almost as many swimming pools as California, plus the beach a mere, well, 3 hours away now that the Mississippi coast has been flattened. But is that enough to want to move away and leave me all by my lonesome? And it IS a little terrifying thinking about the possibility of another hurricane hitting us this year. You can feel the tension with everyone you meet. It's usually topic of conversation #2 or 3.

So, yes, I'm a little jealous of someone picking up and moving on to brighter places. I don't really want to go anywhere in particular. I want David to have a better job where he can be truly appreciated for his talents. I want to go someplace where I can do my evaluation work and get paid a "real" salary to do so. I want to live among people who have a Texas mindset--when something goes wrong you fix it, not complain about it until someone helps you.

I say that while I know that we couldn't really do much better financially anywhere else. The cost of living here is pretty reasonable, and we have a fabulous house that we have almost fixed up like we want it. The kids like their school and their friends and seem happy enough. So, why do I want to run away? Why is it that the thought of another person I like moving on and leaving me to find more people I like so distressing?

I guess it's because all these people have made life so much more tolerable and I really do like them, so the thought of not having them around makes me sad. And I'm tired of being sad and missing people and trying to figure out when we can go see them. It's all enough to make a girl throw her hands up and quit.

**I'm fighting my basic nature and trying to look on the bright side of staying put for 3 more years when I've really just wanted to pick up and move on for about 2 years now.

Sugar Free Week 4

Well, almost...and I'm hedging only on the concept of full disclosure. I DID have one cinnamon roll at brunch yesterday...but it wasn't very sweet at all and didn't leave me with a huge hunger for more, though brunch over all was not as filling or satisfying as I'd hoped.

So, despite the little bump yesterday (and I'm hardly paying attention to it), still doing great. I even passed up a very delicious looking cake at a co-worker's "moving-on" party. And this was with another co-worker who is about 5 inches taller than me eating her cake practically at nose level. That was the only moment I wanted some, but then I said to myself "not worth it."'

So, as I look forward to the upcoming weeks and potential temptations, I have already decided no sweets in our condo at the beach. Elizabeth almost has a heart-attack every time I mention it. I tell her that if she is going to have sweets they will have to be eaten elsewhere. She wants to hide them, and I'm staying firm. I worry that she's as bad off as I am. Then there's the quilt bee where sweets do appear, but they aren't terribly prolific. I know my dear aunties will support me, though, and not tempt me too much :)

So, I actually feel like I can keep this avoidance of sweets up until at least my birthday, when I'll have to decide if I can risk a slice of cake or not. I'm going with no because I think that slipped into a sweet eating frenzy that lasted until, well, 4 weeks ago!

Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to a great dad who:

• always let me feed the cows range cubes before they went to auction--and was kind enough not to tell me that they were likely to be slaughtered.
• teased me mercilessly for calling said range cubes RANCH cubes most of my childhood.
• drove his LOYLOTA to and from Dallas everyday for years so we could live near his parents.
• let me pull the choke every time I rode in that old truck with him.
• remains faithful to his church and God.
• is a great grandad to my kids.
• is patient beyond all imagination.

I love ya dad! Happy Father's Day!

Ode to a Perfect Peach

A perfect peach sits on the table
Waiting to be picked up by the woman.

Its velvety skin a reminder
Of that pretty dress she wore
Or her baby’s soft head that many years ago.

She picks it up and bites into it
Juice squirting into her mouth and running down her chin
Reminding her of the first time
She ate a peach straight from the tree.

The flesh soft, yet firm, not grainy
As she chews she smiles because it tastes so good
And makes her think of happy times and summer
Of being a kid with peach trees all around
Knowing that they would always be there.

Buttons

I am an unusual child for my generation in that I played with buttons as a child. I mean, I REALLY played with buttons. They were to coolest thing I ever saw and I could spend hours with them. Grandma T kept hers in the pantry in a pringles can, and I knew there was going to be a great afternoon when she got up and picked that can out of the pantry. The soaps were on, she would flip between channels and I would sit on the floor playing with my buttons.

My main activities with the buttons involved organizing them in any way I could think:

• fabric, plastic, wood, metal
• two holes, four holes, the little nubbin on the back
• round, square, triangular, three dimensional
• white, brown, grey, red, blue
• smooth, bumpy

At the end of my time playing with them, I would have to put them back in the pringles can. My biggest goal when doing that was to mess up my organization so that next time I went to the buttons, they were a clean slate and I could organize them however I chose.

I would make up stories about the clothes where these buttons came from and the things people did in the clothes. I recognized a big red fabric button that came from my mother's old coat. There were some with glass "jewels" in them, and I KNEW those were Aunt Betty's. Carolyn wore the one that was spherical and bluish green and looked like the world to me. Some were so tiny I could barely pick them up. I figured those must be for babies or dolls.

There were a bunch of plain white or plain brown buttons. I figured those must have been on the dresses of most people "back then." I thought it would be such a bother to have to button up a dress as opposed to just pulling it over your head or zipping it up. They were also an annoyance when washing and ironing, but I thought they were such cool decoration for your clothes that they were probably worth the bother.

I have, in my adult life, been known to buy a shirt simply because it had cool looking buttons. I have also been known to quit a dry cleaners because they bust my buttons (even if they are the ordinary white ones).

Before I moved to Kentucky Grandma asked me to come over so she could give me the buttons I always played with as a child. I was so excited that I could barely wait to get home and pour them out on my mom's dining room table. I couldn't risk losing a single one to the car, so I did wait. I now have them in a pretty jar on top of a dresser in my sewing room. I get them out every now and again when I have a project I'm working on that calls for a button or two. I also collect my own buttons. If the shirt is too small or stained--or too big for that matter--its buttons get whacked off and put into my jar.

Washing Clothes

I LOVED washing clothes with Grandma and Papa T. They had this really cool machine in their garage where they washed clothes. Papa would plug it in and it would literally sputter to life. Before that, though, we would spend a long time filling all the tubs from the green water hose, separating all the clothes—you start with lights and move to darks—and clearing the clothes lines of spiders and bugs so that we could hang the clothes out.

Once the first load was dumped in the first agitator the excitement began. We would leave those clothes in for a set period of time and then Papa would start wringing them out. You had to do it “just so” so that buttons and clasps and zippers didn’t get stuck (or fingers or hands for that matter). If they did, Grandma would run to unplug the machine while Papa coaxed the clothes out. Sometimes a button would just POP off and fly around in the garage. Since I was little and didn’t care about crawling around on the dirty ground, I would be in charge of trying to locate the lost button to see if it was salvageable.

Clothes would pile up on the tables in between the tubs and then be dunked again in another agitator or rinse tub through the wringer again and then into the still rinse tubs (the big silver metal wash tubs).

Finally, though, my turn to shine came on. I was the skimmer on the final rinse tub. I had an old teaspoon that was kept out there for the express purpose of using to skim off the soap bubbles. I felt so important doing my job of soap skimmer. If I wasn’t there to do it, then someone else would have to (and Grandma and Papa were way too busy to) or the clothes would never be pure of soap.

When a load was finally finished, I got to go help Grandma hang the clothes. My job was to get the wooden clothes pins and hand to her as she hung everything up. I was always impressed at how one clothes pin would hold the edges of two pieces of clothes. That was really cool. You wanted a windy day to dry your clothes so they wouldn’t be so stiff—but you took any day that wasn’t rainy. No matter, line-dried clothes always smelled like the sun and that was worth a few inconveniences.

I still love washing clothes even though my machines aren’t nearly as interactive or exciting as the ones Grandma and Papa used. They are convenient, though, and I don’t have to use scratchy towels, but I do miss smelling the sun first thing in the morning.

Happy Birthday to Grandma!

Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Grandma! Happy Birthday to you!

I hope we all sang along!

Grandma’s birthday is, of course, on Flag Day. When I was growing up I thought everybody’s birthday was on some sort of holiday—at least all the important people. Mine (and yes, I’m an “important person"!) is around Thanksgiving, my mom’s around Labor Day, Papa T’s around the 4th of July, Papa M’s President Day. Grandma M not only got Friday the 13th but her birthday is in April, so that means she gets lots of Easter goodies—Good Friday or Easter Sunday were common. I wasn’t too concerned that my dad and my brothers didn’t have birthdays on/near holidays. I did think that since Scott and Bryan were born in summer that was almost the same thing as a holiday since we didn’t have school and could go swimming. It was also really cool that my dad thought his birthday was on May 17th until he registered for the draft and then saw that his birth certificate said the 16th—so, though not a holiday, still an interesting circumstance.

I don’t remember a lot of birthday traditions with my grandma. She would always send us a card with some cash, but I don’t remember any big parties or Sunday lunches or anything like that in her honor. I believe this year there is to be some sort of celebration in her honor since my mother has a lot of company coming up this week! But since I can’t go, I guess they haven’t told me much about it.

Happy Birthday Grandma! I hope this day is perfect and good for you and that you get lots of treats and goodies and that you are celebrated as the extra-special person that you are on this extra-special day!

Grandma T's Birthday Week!

In honor of Grandma T’s birthday this week, I’m going to dedicate my blog for the rest of the week talking about her and what a special influence she was on my life.

I do not look back on my memories of my childhood and not have her be part of it. Some of my favorites are listed below:

• When I got “fake saved” at five years old (that’s a whole other story that I promise I will tell), she came over for dinner and oohed and aahed over me like I had become an angel
• When I finally learned to ride a bicycle, I made my dad drive me and my bike over to her house so I could show her
• When I got my car and my boyfriend was seriously injured in a car wreck (happened the same day) I was over at her house being congratulated and consoled
• She told me my makeup was beautiful when I was a teenager—something only a grandma (and a special one at that) could probably see considering how much I put on
• The Golden Gate was named by me and was a tradition that my family held even after the original Golden Gate had to be replaced…and I was always the one who got to open the gates when we went over yonder
• Every single cow in our pasture had a name. Some of my favorites were Skunk Face (1, 2, 3, etc.), Bossie, Bessie, Sandy (1, 2, 3).

What she taught me:

• How to organize stuff so that your life would be good
• Working isn’t a bad thing—in fact it’s a good thing if you make it fun by playing games or doing the tasks in little bits so that you think it goes by faster.
• Growing your own food is a good thing—especially when you get to dig up the seeds and see them sprouting
• How to read by watching Wheel of Fortune
• How to shop by going to town once a week and by watching Price is Right
• Strategies and game playing tips, so that I now play games like a shark
• Being a romantic soul is good for the spirit—She could tell you to the minute how long she had been married. I probably asked her everyday.

Finally, she had to have instilled my fierce independence because I see that in each of her four daughters. Though in all my memories I cannot tap the “single thing” she did to make me want to do things for myself, I know that it had to come from her.

Two for One Post today!

Post #1: Sugar Free Week 3
I have had no sweets, candy, junk food, etc., for 2 full weeks now, beginning week 3. I shouldn't be surprised at how great I feel--I've been here before--but I am surprised at how great I feel. I don't normally have the energy to help with dinner or work a whole day through, but yesterday I: went grocery shopping (at Winn Dixie not WM), washed a week's worth of clothes for two people, tidied the house, paid our household bills, and set up books for David's company and his non-profit (and those last two were NO small tasks). I also finished a cross stitch I've been working on for a couple of weeks, but more about that in a minute.

But back to how great I feel. I eat breakfast, and then get hungry right around lunch time, so I'm skipping my mid-morning snack. Then I eat a healthy, meal-sized lunch and then go back to work where I do not get hungry in the afternoon. I, therefore, skip my afternoon snack. Go home, help with dinner and eat, and then I'm done for the day. Not only am I not having sweets, etc., but I'm not eating 2 (or 3 if I count evening snacks which I rarely eat) snacks a day. I've taken off 3-4 pounds without even trying that hard. It's great. If I can ever manage to get myself to the gym, then the weight will come off even faster! But one thing at a time. For now, I'm just pleased with myself for avoiding the sugary stuff.

Post #2: Recently Completed Cross Stitches
I've been a cross stitching fiend lately. I love cross stitching. David looks at me while I'm working on something and always says "you look so content." I love the order, the prettiness, the thread and the materials. I also love being able to accomplish something fairly well. I often fantasized when a kid (I started cross stitching when I was 12) that I could make a living out of it if there were only a way. But, instead, I'm doomed to spending all my allowance on patterns, materials, thread and framing for these fabulous works which make me feel great and decorate my home! Below are three pieces I've finished since May. I have worked on Eve for some time, and put her away for a while as well. But the other two finished very quickly.


EVE: Eve is stitched on 28 count very light green linen with needlepoint silk thread. I probably should have used 2 threads rather than one, but she came out ok anyway. She's my first female nude. I particularly liked the shape of the sun. The bent over palm tree also makes me smile.














Son of Chickens?!: Son of Chickens is done on blackbird 32 count linen using DMC Cotton thread and Weeks Dye Works cotton thread. Weeks Dye Works has some thread that is overdyed/variegated, which is difficult to see in this image, but in real life looks cool. I enjoyed working on him so much while we were at the beach that I named him David because I think he's so darn cute, just like my David!












Thoughtful Heart: This one came as a kit and is on 36 count linen using Soire de Algier (spelling is completely mutilated there!) silk thread. It wasn't a difficult piece to do yet I messed up a number of times and had to take sections out! I particularly liked doing this one because I love all the specialty stitches and the silk thread is so wonderful to feel. The verse on the lower right says "Along the way take time, breathe, laugh, ask, adore, see, share, sing, try, touch, hear, believe, be free." A message I need to hear on a daily basis! There is a bee on this pattern, also--right next to the letter J. Some of the letters have words spelled out after them--you can see Heart. My favorite part of this project was that the P spells Peace and the Q spells Quiet and they are right next to each other! I thought that was clever.

Book Review--In the Company of the Courtesan

In the Company of the Courtesan by Sarah Dunant, a Book Review

Set in Venice and Rome, In the Company of the Courtesan is Dunant’s second book about Renaissance Italy. In this book, a Roman courtesan, Fiametta, and her dwarf, Bucino, are victims of the sack of Rome in 1527. Barely escaping with their lives, they end up in Venice where they have to live off the gems they swallowed to ensure their fortune when arriving in Venice.

Hopeful about coming home, Fiametta is devastated to learn that her mother had recently passed away. From this point forward Fiametta, Bucino, Meragosa (their house servant) and La Draga (the healer) are wrapped in a series of events that eventually lead to one’s disappearance and one’s death.

In the Company of the Courtesan is a good book. The writing is captivating and the story is very interesting. I couldn’t wait for my daily reading time to find out how things were going to progress. The story is told from Bucino’s perspective, so we have a first-person account of the life of a dwarf and the pains—both physical and emotional—that he endures as a result of his deformity. Intrigue, sexual politics, and the mystery of Venice supply ample setting for a fulfilling read.

The only complaint I have about the book is that the characters are not as rich and inviting as they could have been. It isn’t until the end that I really feel sympathy or notice a complexity to the characters. Having enjoyed the characters so much in Birth of Venus, I was a bit disappointed in this aspect of the book; however, I highly recommend it to readers interested in historical fiction. The descriptions of Venice were so palpable, that I cannot wait to go there next summer.

It's for the Walk In, You Know

Of course!

Let me explain. This morning my daughters were invited to go swimming with two of their friends. They were hurriedly trying to get ready and finish their chores before they left so that they could go. I walked past the bathroom to see Elizabeth straightening her hair. I couldn't help myself and asked before I thought: "Why are you straightening your hair when you're about to go swimming?" And she replied "It's for the walk in, you know?"

Oh, of course! Why didn't I think about that?

Continuing on my journey to my bedroom, I found my husband in bed with his hand over his face quivering from suppressed laughter. He said, "Did she just say it's for the walk in?" Yes, I assured him. He said, "Is that normal? Because it defies all logic." Yes, I assured him, it is normal.

Thinking back to my own antics at 13-14 I remember one time that my cousin George and his best friend Walt came to visit without first letting me know they were coming and I was in my bedroom doing my "sand art" with some really skanky hair and grungy clothes. I saw them pull in the driveway and bolted for the bathroom where I spent the next 45 minutes showering, drying and curling my hair because I was horrified that they would see me in my unkempt (and it was quite unkempt) state.

Teenage girls do defy all logic. They're in some state between little kids and grown ups. They have insecurities where they shouldn't and confidences where they certainly shouldn't, and they often make no sense at all when they do things because they can't make sense of this new world of boys and social life and parental pressures. And they'll straighten their hair before swimming because someone will see them while they walk into the pool. They'll keep friends waiting for an hour because their hair was dirty. The fear of being judged is so strong and pertinent to their lives that they can't behave in a logical manner because the judgment is all that matters.

So, as we dance this very complicated dance with our teenage daughters, I keep reminding myself that they are very good kids. They behave most of the time, treat us respectfully most of the time, still seek out conversation with us and ask our advice on occasion. They have good friends who are supportive of them and they seem to be really confident and well-adjusted. In some ways they are doing so much better than I was at their age, and I am proud for that.

And on occasion, they remind me that sometimes it matters how you look as you walk into the pool and you should try to keep impressions good...

Fridays

My favorite thing about Friday is that the week is finally over and I'll be able to sleep late the next day.

I love that feeling of accomplishment that you have on Friday afternoon when you look back and realize that you've worked 5 whole days in a row!

I love that feeling of anticipation for the upcoming weekend--that meant more a few years ago than it does now, but it's still something to be able to sleep late, go shopping and pay bills.

Fridays are an end and a beginning--they hold promise.

Fridays mean that I'll be able to shed my working self for a couple of days. I like doing that.

Fridays mean I can regroup. I always need to do that.

Aaah. Friday!

Girls just wanna have fun!

I remember singing that song at the top of my lungs and trying to turn my voice so that I sounded like Cindy Lauper. I'm finding myself wondering today if I've forgotten how to have fun.

See it started like this. A couple of days ago I dreamed I was dancing. I was at this huge place and this guy and I were dancing and dancing and dancing and talking and having so much fun. I was in a great mood after having this dream. I loved being so carefree and enjoying myself in the moment and not worrying about what was around the corner or what the consequences of my actions would be.

But, as a 36 year old mother of twin 14 year olds, a full-time worker, and a part time student, I don't have any time to be carefree and get myself to that utterly carefree state. I constantly have to be on so that I remain a good influence on my kids. There is so much pressure to do everything "right" that there's no room for fun anymore. And it's tiring.

And I have no idea what put me in this sour mood. I was really happy yesterday--so much so that I didn't even realize I was sleepy when I was clearly sleepy (yawning every 30 seconds). I didn't have any bad dreams last night and I slept remarkably well. Maybe it's the whole moving forward with the PhD thing and actually seeing myself back at that critical point where my world came crashing down 6 years ago. Maybe it's trying to make sense of the silly things that go on around us--people who move away, people who leave each other after years and kids, people who for no apparent reason freak out. Maybe it's just the insecurity of seeing everything in my life moving forward without any apparent encouragement from me.

I would like to know what it is, so I can relax and begin to have some fun again! I really did used to be a very very fun person!

Bubble Gum

Grandma T loved chewing gum. She said that would be the treat that Papa would bring her when they went on a date—a piece of Wrigley’s spearmint chewing gum. She always kept the large packs in the upper drawer of Papa’s dresser and would dole me out a tiny piece every afternoon after our nap. I would chew that piece of gum and feel so grown up while I drank Dr. Pepper with my grandma. We’d often play dominos or cards during that time…chewing, talking and having that nice, quiet time before dinner preparations have to start. You always had to spit your gum out in a napkin and throw it away. Naked gum was not allowed in Grandma’s house.

Papa M also loved chewing gum. He kept big boxes of the 3 cent bubble gum—the kind with the blue, yellow and pink wax paper wrapper that’s twisted on the ends—to tempt us kids to hang around and talk to him. We’d grab handfuls of the gum and put as many pieces in our mouths at one time as we could. We’d chew and drool and laugh, which only made us drool more. I remember sometimes that gum would be so hard that you couldn’t bite into it without feeling like your jaw would break. I always thought it was funny how sometimes the pieces would be smaller or taste slightly different or be really hard—but they always looked exactly the same. I wonder why that is.

When I would go to town with Grandma and Papa T we would go to the grocery store. If I’d been good, Grandma would buy me a pack of Fruit Stripe gum. I could barely contain myself until we got home so I could open it up. I love opening up each piece and laying them all out on the table and looking at the bright pretty colors. I would smell them individually and take a tiny bite out of each one to see what tasted better. I wanted that gum to be perfect because the commercials were always so funny with brightly colored animal, especially the zebra, escapading around in brightly colored landscapes that didn’t look like anything I’d seen anywhere—even in comic books or cartoons. But Fruit Stripe Gum didn’t taste good. The gum was hard and brittle and wasn’t very chewy and the flavor ran out within a couple of chews. Nothing like Juicy Fruit which could last for at least 20 minutes…if you took your time and chewed slowly.

I have a problem with gum, though. My tongue is forked because I was born tongue tied and they had to perform an operation to rebuild my tongue when I was a baby. I could never blow real bubbles because mine would always have this thick piece in the middle that would separate an ordinary looking bubble into two humps—looked like a cell dividing. This was very distressing as a kid because I could never compete in the bubble blowing contests because my bubbles always popped early. I did enjoy trying to make the biggest bubble possible, though. I remember that 3 cent gum would sometimes pop surprisingly and you’d have gum stuck to your face and cheeks. One my friends got it in her eyelashes. That was pretty funny.

I took to blowing bubbles inside my mouth and popping them against my cheek. It was a very annoying habit that almost got me sent to the principal’s in high school.

Gum and braces didn’t get along either. Junior high sort of broke my chewing gum habit because I couldn’t chew regular gum and be able to get it out of the wires, so I tried sugar free but I didn’t like it. It was so hard. Gum should be soft and smooth to be appreciated properly.

I no longer chew gum. It hurts my jaw. Probably all those days of shoving 3 cent bubble gum in my mouth and trying to chew. I kind of miss it though. It was a special time shared between friends and grandparents and seemed harmless enough.

Quack-y

Yesterday on our way home from Office Depot, my husband saw a duck in one of our neighbors yard. She was making a bee line directly for their beautiful flowers. It reminded me of our rent house in Kentucky, which we were determined to make beautiful by adding as many flowers and plants as we could without changing the landscape. Around the sidewalk from our driveway I planted red and white impatients with the expectation that they would flourish and make a beautiful lined walkway...I'm a terrible gardener, and my ideas are always much better than the product. I've come to accept that.

But at the time, I couldn't. The plants were actually doing fine. They had flowers and were growing and showing promise, but one day we came home and the white flowers were all gone. Just disappeared. The red ones were doing fine, but the white ones were gone! I couldn't believe that the white plants would be so much more sensitive to the sun and would die so quickly. My husband just laughed at me because he really didn't believe the flowers would do well there anyway.

Then about a week later, the flowers came out again and were pretty once more. I was sitting and grading papers in my living room when I saw them fly down into the yard and yes, start to waddle up to my flowers! Ducks...wouldn't you believe it...were eating my white flowers. Apparantly they were rather tasty with the gusto that they were after them. They looked at me and had no care for what I was doing. I ran to grab the camera because I knew no one would believe me.

I have that picture somewhere at home in the myriad of photo albums and will try to publish it in a couple of days. Too funny.

Sugar Free--Week 2

So, I'm in my second week of not eating sweets. Last week actually wasn't all that hard but that's because I was sick 2 of the 4 days of the regular week, and David was sick the other 2.

I'm already starting to rationalize when I'll be ok to have sweets again. The real answer is never. I'm like an alcoholic or drug addict when it comes to sugar, so I must stay away...I'll be fine as long as I can control my environment...when things get iffy (like at the quilt bee or on vacation) it will be difficult. I've learned from past mistakes that I can't simply "let myself go" on vacation and not have that bad behavior continue into the real world once I get home.

It's hard, though, because I do love them so--sweets have been my emotional release--both good and bad--for as long as I can remember.

But, I've already lost about 3 pounds, so I should be mourning the loss of something that makes me miserable and unhealthy ...and I have not had ONE bout of heartburn, so there is an up-side.

Things that scare me

1. My kids start driver's ed tomorrow.
2. Spiders--especially if they are above my head.
3. Not having anything to read.
4. Not having something to do when I don't have anything to do.
5. Getting lost in a scary part of town.

Illness

Today I think I'm actually recovered from my 2.5 day illness. I felt crappy and grumpy Tuesday, then went to bed at 9pm--2 whole hours before my usual time. Then Wed. I felt like someone had sucked all the life energy from me. Some congestion but nothing major that decongestant couldn't handle at least a little bit. Went to work anyway because I had a deadline and a meeting with my boss. Then Thursday, I felt what I thought was better but all I could do all day was sit and look at stuff. Add to this the vertigo I get when my ears fill up with snot, and I really didn't want to move. Today, I feel better, but then that shower did almost sap my energy supply completely.

Weird that there are few other symptoms...

I do hate being sick, but I don't fight it like other people do, and I usually don't go to work when I'm feeling awful because after having kids and giving them everything under the sun, I realized that going to work when you're contagious is just plain rude--not to mention not good for your health.

So, I sit home one more day and will be bored...the upcoming weekend of nothingness won't help with the boredom, but hey, maybe I'll get all that accounting mess set up for our company!

Hurricane Season Begins

Today marks the first day of hurricane season 2006. I was directly affected by four storms last year--Arlene left rain, but nothing amazing, Cindy rained out 2 days of my New Orleans vacation, Dennis caused me to miss my first quilt bee ever, and Katrina...well, Katrina just messed up all of our lives down here on the Mississippi-Louisiana Gulf Coasts.

I have to admit that I'm a little nervous about things this year. We have decided that if a storm looks half of Katrina we're evacuating. Who cares where as long as it's north of here. We're taking the cats and already have valium for them. I think I need some valium for the evacuation car ride, too.

We have lots of water, but have decided to stock up on food closer to a real storm hitting--we're trying to eat healthy and I don't think a bunch of bananas would be edible after sitting in my garage for several months. We probably should get some gas in our portable tanks, becuase even if we stay we'll probably need it.

After Katrina, I still haven't been to New Orleans, and I can barely make myself go to the MS gulf coast and see the utter destruction there. I can't begin to imagine how people are going to manage this year...

Sorry for the downer post, but this day doesn't mark a holiday...