February 26, 2009
 
So Weird I Almost Didn't Post It

Have you ever had one of those "allergy medication commercial" moments? You know, where they show you the pretty picture, and then they show it to you without the dim-light-filter so that everything looks clearer and brighter and ... just better?

Well, I had one of those moments last week. And it seems to have lasted. I just feel more like ... me. I suppose its possible that this is really truly the end of post-partem. (And, yes, it can last for years)

I was standing in front of the carrots at Walmart when I got the phone-call from my husband. With some news. The mental-lights started flickering the way flurescents will do when they're first turned on. I wandered around toward the apples. The mental-lights came on full force!

At first I thought it was merely a panic-induced moment of clarity. The way things look sharper in an emergency as adreniline floods your body. God bless him, my husband noticed a change in my voice. To the point that he asked cautiously if I felt a little "cranky". In reality, I just felt focused and competent. It may have been a while since he's seen me go there.

Still, this couldn't possibly last, right? RIGHT? And then the freaky thing happened. When I was a little girl, my hand-writing matched my father's exactly. It was ... odd. But there it was. And then about the time I had Ron, I noticed that my hand-writing was changing to more like my mother's. Which didn't alarm me because she has nicer hand-writing. But then a few days ago I looked down at my grocery list and realized it was in my father's handwriting!

Its just weird.

February 20, 2009
 
Tagged!

How long have you been together?
My whole life. Since the first moment I looked in his eyes. Because then I became me. Whoever was me before was somehow ... less and different. OR, since Richard and Amy's Christmas party. We met when we both worked at a bookstore. Amy was married to his best friend and doing temp work at the bookstore. She specifically had the party to get me to meet their group of friends, hoping things would work out. Since everyone knew everyone else except me they planned to exchange gifts. Amy bought me a lovely scarf so I wouldn't feel left out, but my future-husband slipped me a small box and a smile. Amy was sitting next to me when I opened it and almost passed out! All I could say was "Did you tell him!?!" as she shook her head speechlessly. I had gone shopping with Amy that afternoon and the ONLY thing I looked at twice was silver tips for my black boots. Right now this very minute they're sitting in my jewelry box. OR, it would be true to say that we've been married 16 years.

(Continued below, since I'll probably give ridiculously long answers.)

 
FYI

There are four HomeDepot stores in Anchorage, Alaska.

But the average high temperature at the peak of summer is in the low 60's.

You know, when I get a new car my husband has to "prep" me for the decision months (sometimes years) in advance. Its a good thing he's had that practice. Long-term planning makes me ... twitchy. Don't know HOW I'm going to make it until May! We get news in May, and you people will get the news immediately there-after!

What I can tell you now is that it is SERIOUSLY terrifyingly awesome to watch God move. And, God has an amazing sense of humor :)

February 19, 2009
 
When I'm A Grown-up

My husband returned from a business trip a few days ago. He usually brings back treats of some kind. Often local treats. Like the kangeroo jerky. Like the pickled eggplant. Like stuff I can't spell.

He was standing in the kitchen nibbleling with great delight on small chunks of ... something. He asked, ever so innocently, "Would you like a piece?" The children froze for a split second. Someone asked non-chalantly, "What is it exactly?" He wouldn't say, and no child would touch a piece.

Then I asked the magic question, "Is it plant or animal?" He laughed and confirmed "plant". Then the children were somewhat willing to take a bite. it turned out to be extremely potent fresh candied ginger! People! That stuff will really get your attention.

Cassie was horrified, she doesn't love spicy things.
Ron was silent, and thoughtful. Not a ringing endorsement.
We were all surprised when he asked for another piece, until he said he wanted to take it down to Lee who was in the basement. THAT explained a lot.

Baby Katherine? She volunteered to her Dad "I like it". But when he asked her if she wanted another piece, she said "NO." A few blinks later she continued, "I'll have another piece when I'm a grown-up!"

 
It Doesn't Really Matter

I had some epiphanies yesterday.

(1) My husband is a force to be reckoned with. It reminds me very much of that scene in Narnia where someone asks something like "Is Aslan a tame lion?" And the response is "No. But he's good."

(2) He loves me. And he takes care of me. Most men don't manage both.

(3) What-ever happens, when-ever, where-ever ... It doesn't really matter.

February 13, 2009
 
Let's Hear It

IF you have anything at all to say about Pueblo, Colorado this would be the time. And I would be DELIGHTED to here anything.

(All I here are crickets chirping and I just can't stand crickets.)

February 11, 2009
 
The Green Tuxedo

Some sentences just grab my attention. And hold it captive. Overheard in the back-seat of the car, between the two boys (Ron, age 11, and Lee, age 9)

Ron: You can NOT wear a green tuxedo to my wedding.
Lee: I SO will if I want to.

Ron: Not if you're the best man you won't.
Lee: Yes I will :P

Ron: Well, then, I won't let you be in any of the pictures.
Lee: I'll just bring my OWN camera and take a LOT of pictures with me in all of them.

Lucy: Boys, I hate to break this to you, but the BRIDE gets to tell everyone what to wear.
Lee: (gasp) She can't tell ME what to wear!
Ron: WHAT!?! (blink, blink)

Lucy: Seriously. The bride is in charge of everything. And that means you.
(long pause)
Lee: Let's make sure she knows that I want a bright green tuxedo with a top hat! And a CAPE!

February 04, 2009
 
God Must Be Laughing

"If you want to hear God laugh tell him your plans."

So this is the year I got serious about the gardening with the kids. And let me tell you, they are LOVING the wall-display of plants/seeds ordered and the garden grid layout. I suspect that my biggest problem will be taming the verdant lush over-growth brought about by really good compost and generous watering. Which is how gardening SHOULD be.

This is also the year that it is entirely almost perhaps maybe possible (or not) that I end up moving ... to a desert! Ok, its a "semi-arid" area. Which to a Southern girl mean DESERT!

The official website assures future residents that they'll have 180 growing days, they'll just have to supplement water. They might as well say "Its going to be ok, sweetie. You can always grow cactus!"

And its relatively near relatives. The not-so-functional ones. Words fail me!

Well, ok, some words are engrained in my mind, like "Its better than Alaska!" Let me reiterate -- I don't want to live in Alaska. Its cold and dark and full of moose.

Its a good thing I have a sense of humor :P

February 02, 2009
 
Where Lucy's Husband Suffers Some More

I've tried to limit my garden-talking. Really, I have. But ... sometimes ... I just can't help myself. For example, I had THE best gardening idea! I ordered duplicate catalogs (which was useful anyway when more than one child wanted to look at the same catalog) so that I could SCRAPBOOK my garden!

Not that I'm actually OCD, although one psych professor pointed out that I probably had mild OCT (Obsessive-compulsive-tendancies). Its just that thumbing through pages and pages of catalogs looking for the things I"ve ordered is ... inefficient. So I cleared a spot on my office wall (Ok, so I cleared the whole wall) and "scrapbooked" pages and pages of pictures and blurbs for each of the things I ordered! Cassie and Katherine thought this was the most fun ever this afternoon! Plus, now the kids can see at a glance what is coming. Soon I'm adding posters of the garden layout of raised beds, locations of beds and locations of plants.

But back to the part where my husband suffers ... Last night I was sitting on the bed, surrounded by catalogs, clipping and snipping them to pieces, comparing them against the master lists to make sure I didn't miss anything. My husband lay on the bed reading a non-gardening book. Finally, a few hours later, I couldn't take it anymore! I told him my plan for "scrapbooking" my garden plans!

He reached over, patted me absent-mindedly and muttered "It'll be ok." It took a moment for me to realize that he used the exact same gesture and tone when using the phrase "I'm sorry for your loss." He COMPLETELY missed the extreme cleverness of my idea, falling back on supportive consolation!

He started paying attention when I started laughing loudly. Its possible he thought I was having a break-down. He laughed too when I explained that the appropriate response was "WOW! THATS CLEVER! GOOD ORGANIZING! GARDENING IS FUN!" He laughed more when I explained tha the overwhelmed-break-down-stroke-thing will happen in the middle of May when the garage is full of plants.

Being married to me is no bed of roses.

 
Not That It Mattered

Let's start out week with a giggle! And, in the interest of documentation, this will be nice to look back on if civilization doesn't burn in the next decade.

Katherine is SUCH a helper! She delights in being a "big" girl, a full three years old! The other morning it was just the two of us, and she announced that I needed to do something so she could help me. Immediately, we set about doing some laundry. I knew I would need several hangers in the laundry-room later, so that was her task. To make three trips to the laundry-room with a few hangers each time.

The first trip went well. The second trip not AS well. The third trip? No. She was done. She didn't WANT to take anymore hangers to the laundry-room. Percieving that this could be a teaching moment, I told her that she MUST finish the job. She told me her tummy hurt. I told HER that she could take a nap after she took the hangers. She told me that her toe might hurt (while she was holding her elbow). I raised an eyebrow and told her, firmly, to take those hangers right that minute.

Katherine started wailing. Seriously. Wailing. Full-on open-mouth see-the-tonsils wailing. With drool. Because if you close your mouth to swallow it muffles the sound. Which apparently defeats the purpose. BUT, she wailed while taking the hangers. Occassionally interupting the tormented shrilling with "But I don't want to!" She marched back to me, still announcing "But I don't want to!" I over-spoke her to say "Its over, its already done".

Without missing a beat, or even opening her squished eyes, she changed her rant to "But I DIDN'T want to!"

I laughed at her. Out loud. I don't think she appreciated it.

 
 
 
 

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