Saying yes...

My idea of hell...

... would have to be a traffic circle. I don't get them. I don't like them. Don't make me use them. That means YOU, Grizzled. Don't say, "I need to drop off the truck, just follow me..." and then take the TRAFFIC CIRCLE!

A traffic circle in my mind is the wild west of traffic conditions. There are rules, but is anyone following them? Hell no! And that includes myself, because, as I wait for the people on my right to enter traffic circle hell, the people on my left are waiting for me and eventually, we all dive in at once, zig-zagging in and out of the two lanes until we're shot out onto our exit street. It's like Spirograph done with cars, except instead of one pen point making the lovely pattern, it's lots of large cars being driven by overly-caffeinated, sleep-deprived people somewhat like myself. Give me the expressway, give me downtown Chicago traffic. I'll even take the school drop-off lane and that's a scary place, just don't ask me to do the traffic circle. We're not made for each other. I can admit that.

What is made for me is chocolate. Note to self, don't buy the lamblets' Valentine-function chocolate a week or more before the slated events. Just don't do it. Even better, just buy something you don't like. It would be easier that way. They should put all stores that sell chocolate on the other side of the traffic circle with no alternative routes for getting there. I'd still love chocolate, but I'd snap back to reality and would realize that it is not a breakfast food.

Other random observation: I no longer live in a suburb. I live in some new-fangled place called an iceburb. My burb has been taken over by petrified mountains of snow that are peppered with jagged outcroppings of ice. More snow is scheduled for this afternoon. The new, fluffy as a bunny snow will cover and disguise the evil jagged piles of ice. I will no doubt back into a few while trying to avoid garbage cans that are precariously perched on top of the various parkway ice mountains. It will still be preferable to attempting the hell that is the traffic circle.

Of course, I could just stay inside with the remaining chocolate...

And we thought Bill O'Reilly was the problem...

One of this year's BAKE-OFF's fabulous entrants pointed me in the direction of this heart-warming story:

For the past nine years, the Potsdam Food Co-op has held an annual "Holiday Bake Off" benefiting the local neighborhood center. But the Co-op recently received a letter from General Mills, which said Pillsbury patented the phrase bake-off, and they couldn't use it. So they called General Mills.

"By the end of the conversation, I was pretty amused. They're very serious about the term bake-off, and to me it seems rather petty," said Scott Miller, the Potsdam Food Co-op General Manager.

 

Miller said he told General Mills the bake-off was for charity, but still couldn't use the phrase.

Wow, I guess it's a good thing that our BAKE-OFF, yeah, I said BAKE-OFF, what are ya going to do about it?!?!? is small cookies or they'd sick their corporate lawyers on our festive hinies.

I suppose I can see both sides to this story, but still, I can't help, but wonder where this will all lead. Will the Oxygen network one day control the air that we breathe? "We own the rights to the term oxygen and you're breathing it willy-nilly! Our lawyers say you must stop!"

It's December 10th folks... entries for our BAKE-OFF must be received by the 21st, that's 11 days unless General Mills shuts us down even sooner.

Feel the love.

To my muse... ahem!

I'm working on a number of projects right now. Some for pay, some for fun, some for... who knows what. Last night in my dreams, the work was flying off of my pencil tip. I was drawing with colored pencils, but it was coming off as paint. I awoke, got to work, and found that all skill has left my body and no precious voice is whispering in my ear.

My muse has left the building.

Oops...

Last evening, Grizzled attempted to move and unplug an ancient goose neck lamp that was on the top of our computer tower. He was trying to find the cord through the semi-organized tangle when we heard a "Zzzzzpptt!!!" and saw a brief flash. He then asked me to unplug the lamp! Nice... We gently searched and tugged, trying to locate where this danger was plugged in. There was another, louder, "ZZZZPPPTT!" followed by a lovely arc of electricity. The computer stopped. I thought we had blown a fuse, but Grizzled pointed out that the monitor and keyboard were still on. We did notice a large burn mark on the base of the lamp and another on the end of a cable that plugs into one of our cameras. The cable's other end was plugged into our computer... We thought it was fried.

After some jiggling and unplugging of various things, Grizzled got it started. It appears to be up and running. So far, nothing noticeable appears to be lost. I can't help, but think we're on borrowed time. 

The camera download cable is shot as is the lamp. I just hope the computer is not fried in some way I can't see. Anyone have any guesses what damage the zap of electricity might have caused?

The 2am thunderstorms have GOT to stop!

I was snapped out of my blissful sleep in the wee hours by yet another "raising the dead" thunderstorm. We've been having them consistently for about a week+. I can't take much more. I usually love a good thunderstorm and even love sleeping to them, but these... these are of a different caliber. These are not the mellow, rumbling storms, these are the gun shots beside your head storms. These are the storms that threaten to waken you with a heart attack.

I awoke around 2 AM to the sound of something LOUD only to notice the dog was standing on the bed right next to me. I then looked out the window and noticed the view was clear. Didn't there used to be a big maple out there?? Oh! It's back, it's just bending like a palm in the wind.

Around 4 AM there was the unmistakable noise of thunder followed by all power going off. In the calm of the house I heard Grizzled say, "The electricity is out and it's the first day of school. This ought to be interesting." I drifted back to sleep around 5 only to have Grizzled wake me at 6 and tell me he had gone out and bought coffee. It was waiting for me downstairs. He also removed the large branch that was blocking the neighbor's driveway and had called ComEd to report the outage. He's a good man.

It's sunny right now... sunny and extremely humid. There are storms in the forecast for tonight. There are storms in the forecast for the rest of the week. I just hope some come during the day. I can't take much more of being awakened like that in the middle of the night. It's taking its toll. I seem to be developing two lovely streaks of gray up the sides of my forehead.

Shhhhhh!! The troops might hear you!!!

Sen. Richard Lugar spoke out yesterday saying he felt *The Surge* was not working. Today, Sen. Lindsey Graham said that although he respects Sen. Lugar, he felt it was unwise to say that, it could undermine the morale of the troops.

This tippy toeing around when it comes to supporting the troops reminds me of how so many people deal with children these days. Never, ever point out that they might be following a bad decision. No, just keep on saying good job! It doesn’t matter if your child can’t swim and is in the middle of the pool flailing madly. Don’t throw in a flotation device and save them! That might hurt their feelings and damage their self-esteem!  No, instead, just shout, “GOOD JOB!” and support that child!

You know what? I hope if I’m ever up to my ass in a quagmire of unending chaos that someone has the decency to look at me and say, “This is not working, you need a new direction. Let me lend you some help.” My morale will not be undermined. I’ll probably be too busy saying thank you.

Grizzled said not to blog angry... well, I don't always listen.

Update below:

I am sick of shitty people. I am sick of people who smile and then deliver a nice verbal dagger to your chest. I am sick of people who say they support everyone, but then go for the jugular the first chance they get.

I messed up. I missed my oldest lamblet’s field day and award day. In years past it hasn’t been a big deal if I’ve been there or not, but this year is her last year at her school and it should have flashed on my frazzled brain that this was something to attend. I did not attend. I attended all functions that have gone on in the past month of which there have been many. I have even helped plan some, but yesterday, my brain was elsewhere. Yesterday I was not around as my oldest lamblet received the President’s Award for excellence in math and English. Yesterday I was busy thinking about Grizzled who has been having chest pains for a month, has a really shitty family history heart-wise and who was getting a nuclear stress test to prove to him that the pains were stress and not something more serious. Let me just say now that it was not something more serious. Not only does Grizzled have a heart, but his heart is wide open. I could have told them that. That was apparent the first day I met him and he has never proven me wrong.

My mind was also on a million other things, his mother’s impending heart surgery, my youngest daughter’s b-day, making my dog’s vet appointment, would it rain so I wouldn’t have to go to tee ball practice, is the Cold War restarting? My mind was on a million things, some important, some not. I am fried. This past month has been a very busy month in many, many ways and my mind is fried. I forgot Field Day. My daughter told me about it when she got home. I congratulated her, felt like a turd, but I congratulated her.

This morning at the bus stop, one *nice* mother congratulated my oldest lamblet on her award and then turned to me and said, “And where were YOU?? I don’t think I saw you there. Surely you’d go to THAT!” I told her we had a million things going on and that it was not possible. I was seething inside that she chose to say this in front of my daughter, that she chose to say it at all. I wanted to say that she has seen me at school numerous times last week so surely that proved my support as a parent. Actually, what I really wanted to say was that she was out of line and the fact that my children are better behaved than hers and are more compassionate than hers proves I am a supportive parent, but I was not raised to say things like that. I bit my tongue and tried to ignore. She then launched off onto how the curriculum must be too easy anymore considering how many kids got awards. Nice… Nice supportive woman. I’m so happy to see how she’s supporting me and my kid.

You know what? If I had been there and she hadn’t, I would not have said a word. If her children do well, I compliment them and say she must be proud. I never at any point tell her that they must have gotten lax in deciding what excellence means. That would be rude. I am able to be happy for her and her children. Apparently she can’t do the same.

I messed up. I forgot something I shouldn’t have and I will tell my daughter that. I will also tell my daughter that I know every day what an excellent human being she is, that I am blessed, and that she does not need an award for me to know that. I am proud of her (of both my lamblets) EVERY STINKING DAY. She not only has a brain, but she has a heart. She already knows at the age of 11 that you don’t put people on the spot and make them feel bad in order to make yourself feel better. She should get an award for that. What she will get is my apology, my apology and my acknowledgment that she is a wonderful human being and that hopefully, we will both survive this God-forsaken suburb together.

Update- while emptying out her backpack, my oldest lamblet handed me an envelope from school that she said she had gotten a couple of days ago and that she didn't think was imperative. I opened it. It was a notice that she was going to get an award and said when and where the ceremony would be. I feel better. Having had that note earlier, even my frazzled brain would have remembered (I think). She also felt a tad sheepish. We both promised to do better. She will get things to me on time, I will remember more, she will be upfront with me if my presence is absolutely wanted. We both agreed to not listen to the neighbor. :)

Also, thank you to everyone who responded here and did not take the bait and make a joke about how a President's Award in academics probably doesn't mean much if it's coming from this President. I had to bite my tongue as well.

 

Apparently the cicadas don't want to be in the burbs either...

Well, cicada D-Day has come and gone with nary a cicada. My daughter did see a couple at school and the Chicago Trib said "they were dribbling out in some areas". Dribbling cicadas... Guh!

I realize this is not an exact science or as exact as I would like it to be. I was hoping the powers that be could tell me the exact ETA of Brood XIII down to the second, but they can't, so I wait... I wait and I hope that Brood XIII hasn't decided the burbs aren't the place to be. However, if they have made this decision... if they don't come knocking on my trees, I can't blame them. I'd rather be somewhere else as well.

Pinko Punko is to blame!!!

Grizzled often calls me a marketing man's dream. I will be going about my day, hear something that sounds kind of appealing, "You can sew your clothes right on your body!" and I'll be tempted to buy it.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know most of this is bs, but if it's the right time of day and I am low on blood sugar or low on hope, I'll bite.

"Sure! I'd love to look 10 years younger in 2 minutes!!!"  Ka-CHING!

Or...

"Okay, that petro-chemical bar will surely give me more energy!!!"  NOT!

This afternoon, during the very time of day I dread... that late afternoon where everything feels crunchy and even the sun is questioning you about your progress in life, I took a break from the day. I went outside. I must admit... it was glorious out. It's sunny. It's 88!!! BUT... there's a cool breeze. Our honeysuckle is in bloom, lilacs are opening. It was the most intoxicating mix of heat, cool, and scent. It felt like summer on ice.

I pulled myself away and went back inside to take care of some work. Well, work is work so I suddenly found myself back at the computer surfing the internetz.

I ended up at Three Bulls! but apparently there was a glitch. All I could see was an entire screen of not quite turquoisey blue. I clicked back and then forward... still the same blue. I knew that blue! That was the blue of my youth! That was the blue of the elusive Blue Moon ice cream I used to love!

Gee, I wonder if they still make that. I've looked before, it's been hard to find. Most places try to pass off sherbet. It was not sherbet. It was ice cream in some magical BLUE flavor. It was fruity, but NOT. It was blue, but NOT. It was merely BLUE MOON! And Pinko's ill-managed website (you know who he is, I'm not linking...) only made me want to know this blue elixir again.

Off I went. I straddled the Google without a helmet and I surfed.

Do you know that now they have a place named "icecreamsource.com"???  They DO! And not only do they have Blue Moon ice cream, they have a survival kit that offers Blue Moon from 4 manufacturers! FOUR! The small survival kit almost sounded reasonable.

Next thing I knew, I was clicking and entering and pasting and saying, YES! YES! YES!!! to Blue Moon ice cream delivered to my door in 1-4 days!

I clicked the final submit while the aroma of honeysuckle wafted through the air... It was then that I noticed the shipping. Gulp. I hadn't really thought about the shipping. All I thought of was Blue Moon ice cream! An assortment of Blue Moon ice cream, much the same color as the 3 Bull's background! (Damn you, Pinko!!!)

Ice cream though, as most of you know, is cold. It must be kept cold and shipped fast while still being kept cold... I think... I think my shipping was a penny or two less than the price for the ice cream. I hope...

Still, it will be worth it. 4 brands of Blue Moon ice cream... with the smell of lilacs and honeysuckle wafting through the air. I may even have to take out the childhood tandem and go for a spin.

Where are all the flies?!?

We have had an issue with reoccurring drain flies in our utility room ever since we moved into this house. I've poured boiling water down the floor drain and that works for awhile.I've swatted them when I saw them. We have not used pesticides. Something about pouring pesticides into a drain doesn't feel right, so we've lived with the flies. The flies were usually in a pretty isolated area so they weren't totally bothersome. They stayed in the utility room and would on occasion move to the basement bathroom, but that was about it.

Back last fall, we adopted a stow-away lizard. Ponce, as many of you probably recall, was a baby anole that found itself in my husband's office after jumping off of a plant that had been delivered from Florida. He was sooooo small and so new that we weren't sure he/she was going to make it. We fed him fruit flies which almost seemed like to much of a mouthful.

Time passed and Ponce hung on. Ponce did more than hang on, he/she thrived. Ponce got large enough we were able to tell that he was indeed a she. Ponce moved from fruit flies to small/medium crickets. Ponce also enjoyed our drain flies. At some point I realized I could catch the drain flies, they don't move very fast, and put them in Ponce's habitat. It was wintertime so the drain fly output was fairly low. I'd scope the water heater or furnace every couple of days for a fly or three to put in Ponce's cage. They were a tasty treat... a break from the crickets. Then one day I noticed, no more flies. The weather is getting warmer, things are happening. Where are the flies!?! Fly production should be picking up and Ponce is hungry.

Ponce is continuing to thrive (although her Vinca vine is not... it's on schedule for replacement). Here is a photo of what Ponce looks like today. I'd say if you measured her from tip of tail to tip of snout, she's approaching 5 inches.

Ponce is eating a lot more these days. The days of 2 fruit flies per day are long gone. She's gnarfing crickets at a steady pace and could really use some drain flies for variety, but they appear to be gone. It dawned on me that I probably over-harvested them and left nothing to procreate. A few years ago this would have been a good thing! I would have been so happy that the flies were gone, but this morning as I went down to the utility room for something else and scanned the furnace and walls out of habit, I found myself kind of miffed and grumbling, "Where are all the flies!?!?!"