Playdate

I got to play with some friends today (one friend related by marriage and the other by blood). Both of these friends brought other friends along with them for playdates with friends of mine that I keep in the house. Mike's Jen came with Mimi and Violet and Jessie came with Bon. Mimi played with Fake Child and Bon played with my kids.

Jen, Jessie, and I sat upstairs at the table and crafted and talked (and ate treats).

Picture recap

Mimi hugs her foot
Jenny is SO EXCITED to be here
So Jen was sitting on my couch and fingering an afghan sent to me by a different Jen. Something poked her. She found this many pins in the afghan. And this is in addition to the four I found previously. Jenni in Florida: that old lady must be wondering what happened to all her pins.
Here Violet demonstrates the proper rolling-over technique
Jessie and Jen get started. Each of us picked a Halloween (yes, Halloween) craft for which we bought the supplies for three sets. Jen did countdown blocks, Jessie did a Halloween advent calendar on a cookie sheet and I did a framed piece spelling out "boo." You'll see the finished results in a little bit.
Jessie is happy to be here.
I stole the baby
Hayley and her cousins. I LOVE Mimi's expression!
Mimi and Fake Child play in a box
The boys play Wii with Bon. Side note: I forgot to tell the kids that I was having a craft day so when the kids came home from school I had to make introductions. I forgot to introduce Paul to Bon, so a few minutes later, Paul came upstairs and said, "Who's that guy downstairs?" I had to laugh because the poor kid probably thought I was going crazy and letting strangers hang out in the basement.
OK, here's what we did. This is my craft.
This was Jen's craft, the countdown blocks
And Jessie's craft. Notice the "october" at the top. The letters are glittery black, which doesn't show up well in the picture. And the orange thing at the bottom is the day marker. It's a magnet you move from one day to the next in the countdown to Halloween. We ate Chinese for lunch and pizza for dinner. Good times! And good company! And fun crafts!

One last Halloween blast

It's craft day! Jen and Jessie are coming over to play! And we realize that it's nearly Thanksgiving and Christmas is close at hand, but there was a request to make Halloween decorations because certain people have found a disturbing lack of pumpkins in their personal decoration cache. And I can always use more Halloween stuff. (Note to self: get another Rubbermaid container. The two boxes I have already are full)

A problem that is not really a problem

My freezer is full. Both freezers are full (the one that sits atop my fridge and the giant one in the garage).

Full!

I can't fit even a small tub of Dulce de Leche Haagen Daz (for Jim) in either one. I have had to curtail the rest of the squash bun baking because SERIOUSLY I cannot fit one more roll in the freezer. GAH!

This calls for drastic measures. We might have to actually EAT the stuff in the freezers.

Mustering up my "can-do" attitude

I was going to title this post "Coping with stress and other fairy tales" but I'm trying not to be whiny.

I have stuff to do today. I also have stuff I hope I can do today. For lack of anything better to blog about, here is a selection of things I have told myself I should do and hope to do:

1. Make my bed-HA! I've done it already!
2. Exercise-my excuse for not having it done already is that Other Jim was using the computer this morning (yes, he is not yet in school today. Don't ask and keep your judgment to yourself, thanks) and since the exercise equipment (aka stationary bike and TV and DVD player) are in the same room, I chose not to bounce my flab around while he was in the same room, which would only serve to make OJ flee from the room and not finish what he was doing.
3. Cook squash for more squash buns-HA! Did that alrea--oh cripes. Forgot to take it out of the oven. brb.
4. Make more squash buns. (I need more hours in my day! Anyone have any spare hours?)
5. Take a test. (I keep bugging the proctor with emails saying "Is it there yet?")
6. I have to go grocery shopping (AGAIN??? My family needs to quit eating! I am constantly having to go to the store!)
7. Shower (pipe dream)
8. Babysit (not a pipe dream)
9. Get ready for craft day (not a pipe dream either; a REALITY. A FUN reality!) This involves cleaning several rooms including the dreaded Black Hole Room of Food Storage and Craft Things (aka the sewing room), and finding and printing and cutting out large letters. And worrying about lunch on Wednesday (dinner is taken care of, thanks to Jim and Papa John's)
10. Sleep (as if)

Wolf Ridge report from field reporter Matt

And Matt is back. He had a great time and he took quite a few pictures. I can't begin to tell you everything he learned and shared with me. He remembered all kinds of exciting facts about geology, Ojibway heritage, and wildlife in general. He got to go rock climbing and he had fun on the ropes course. He trod the "Stairs of Doom" and survived.

Some pictures:

Here he is with his friend Colin as they are about to dig into an "owl pellet" (aka owl vomit) to figure out what the owl has been eating.
His owl pellet had two rodents and a part of a mole. Here Matt reconstructs one of the skeletons from the bones in the owl pellet.
A deer Matt saw in the mist
A horned owl during the raptor demonstration
A porcupine brought into the class "Animal Signs"
A nifty picture of the misty forest. Matt says he thinks he was taking a picture of a bird but we can't pick it out.
A happy Matt waits for his turn on the ropes course.
And away he goes! He said he was the first one in his group to go on the ropes course and he was a little scared but once he got started he enjoyed it. He said that he almost got stuck on the zip line because he wasn't heavy enough to zip all the way to the end. His friend had to grab his foot and pull him to the end where he could get off. He should have filled his many pants pockets with rocks to weigh himself down.
Matt is on the Rainbow Bridge
Matt on the rocks
I asked him what his favorite class was at Wolf Ridge and he said, "All of them." He loves to learn. He stores facts like bees store honey.

Welcome home, Matt! The voice is back!

Waiting by the phone

I'm stuck at home by the phone waiting for a boy to show up.

You'd think I was a teeny-bopper.

The boy in question is, of course, Matt. I'm waiting for the phone call from a chaperone who will tell me the approximate time the buses will arrive at the elementary school. Then over a hundred fifth graders will spill out of the buses, jabbering and chattering, necks craned as they look for parents, waving as they spot their matches.

The house has been quiet this week without the youngest around, trying to make sure his voice is heard. And one very rare event--the solar eclipse of sibling events--Hayley and Jimmy actually conversed with each other without argument or finger-pointing. All because one little boy was away.

Family dynamics change as circumstances change. Jimmy and Paul used to be best buddies in Legoland. Now they have their own interests. Katie and Jimmy used to play Barbies and Dinosaurs. Paul used to sit in a large purple Rubbermaid container with Hayley and lisp his way around a story. Hayley and Matt used to be inseparable. Those simple facts are facts no more. Katie is gone, Jimmy nearly so. Paul is frequently up to his hair in text books, Hayley draws in her room or practices clarinet at the computer. Matt, though, hasn't yet outgrown his voice. And while he and it have been gone, I've been given a glimpse into the future.

Quietude.

My marriage is legal

My marriage can buy alcohol now. Not that it will though; it's a good marriage and it does what it's told, and it has been told not to frequent bars.

Jim and I have been married 21 years today. I don't think we've ever had a rocky period, except for that one time early on (sometime in July 1989) when he got mad at me for freaking out over being pregnant (with Katie), which I probably deserved. I thought he was going to divorce me for two whole hours. Although if you asked him (not in my presence) he might say we HAVE had a rocky period (go ask him and then tell me what he said. No I'm not 14, why do you ask?). He's never mentioned not liking me so I'm guessing that he's been ok with "us" for these 21 years.

He DID have cold feet before we were married though. I sincerely hope that he doesn't regret taking action on those cold feet. And that's why we keep lots of blankets on the couch downstairs--no cold feet.

That Was Then feature
This grainy photo was taken not at our wedding (for pictures of our wedding, see here.) This was taken 10 months afterward at Jen and Travis's wedding.
There is no This is Now feature. Jim and I haven't been in a picture together since last year when a different Jen took our picture near a coffee shop.

Ten things I like about Jim (Note to self: no copping out by listing his fondness for doing dishes)
1. He isn't tall. No neckaches for me when we smooch!
2. He was willing to let me pick the number of kids we had. He wanted three. We never argued about it, he just said he was fine with three but I was the one who had to have them so if I wanted more, he was ok with it.
3. He gets Hayley up in the morning for school. She has to get up at six a.m. I can't see straight at six a.m.
4. He has never once said that whatever I made for dinner was yucky or overcooked or not his favorite.
5. He taught the kids by example to thank me for dinner. In turn, I try to remember to thank those who helped, or return the favor when he makes the food (or gets the pizza).
6. He likes to go grocery shopping with me when he can and he doesn't criticize my shopping choices. He also doesn't add to the cart (with chips and pop) when I'm not looking.
7. He doesn't make me justify my non-grocery shopping.
8. He is not afraid of big hairy spiders that lurk in the bathtubs, dangle from the ceiling, and scurry across the floor late at night.
9. He likes to take me out on dates.
10. And hold my hand.

Kisses, Jim!

Real life surround sound

First concert of the year last night. Paul, as a member of the marching band, played his french horn. I like the indoor marching band concerts because the kids don't sit on the stage. For the first half of the concert, just the drums and brass are on the stage. The rest of the players line the aisles, surrounding the audience. I like to sit in the middle so I get the full effect.

Speaking of where I sat, I try every concert to sit in a place where I have a full view of whichever child is playing. And every single time, I end up sitting in a seat where the director BLOCKS MY VIEW OF MY CHILD! EVERY TIME. Last night was no exception. In my defense, I thought Paul was going to be on the left side of the stage. But he was not. And I sat about three seats diagonally back of where the drum majors and the director stood so my view of Paul was blocked. (I tried to keep my head banging in frustration to the beat of the music so that I wouldn't be too obvious or detract from the musical experience of the rest of the audience).

It's difficult to tell who is who with everyone wearing the same uniform and having most of their heads covered with large hats so I had to pick out Paul using the algorithm of a) find the french horn players and b) which one is looking the most like he isn't quite sure what is going on. Then I found him right away.

Here are a couple of pictures from during the concert: (I had to extend the camera way out sideways to get around the conductor so I could get these pictures. I was trusting in my camera to get good shots)
Here is a flag passing in front of his face. The flag team was onstage with the band twirling to the music (I put too much trust in the camera and it failed me for this picture. Just kidding. I happen to like how it turned out).The band had yearbook picture time after the concert and all the parents gathered around the gym to watch (and take more pictures).

Unlabeled version:
labeled version:And one last picture of Paul by himself.Paul got to practice driving to and from the concert and did a good job, except when he said that he should practice one handed driving. I told him that I would whap him with my purse if I every caught him driving one-handed. Then he said that he should practice texting while driving too. So he too has been "blessed" with the sarcastic gene.

One other thing he said on the way home amused me, though. The last song of the concert was one by Dragonforce and four guys from the band shed their instruments and grabbed their Guitar Hero guitars and danced around on stage. At the end of the song, one of the guys' guitars was in two pieces. I mentioned to Paul that one of the guys broke his guitar. Paul replied, "No, some of those guitars are pieceable."

???

So a new word from Paul: Pieceable--the ability something possesses to break down into component parts without damage, and then to reassemble to resume functionality.

He's 15 and he's still making up words without consciously doing so as a joke or to be thought of as witty. I love my Paul! He makes me laugh.

25% fewer children, 90% less loudness

Matt's gone. He boarded a bus bound for northern MN for five days of environmental learning, cafeteria food, dorm living, and enough fifth graders to take over an island nation.

He's been so excited to go to Wolf Ridge for ages because he's witnessed every single one of his siblings go, and heard their tales of excitement and adventure when they got back. When Katie went, she took along some trepidations regarding certain activities because she had no older siblings to tell her what it was REALLY like. Matt has had the luxury of hearing from four siblings the best (and worst) of Wolf Ridge and is not at all afraid to go. He was chomping at the bit and he was so excited to leave me that he almost forgot to give me a parka-lined hug.

I am glad that this is the last Wolf Ridge trip in the family. I am tired of enduring the fundraisers, as are, I'm sure, the neighbors, who have been nothing but gracious during the endless parade of Evans' beggars marching up and down the street.

Because of the flu outbreaks, the children were required to have their temperature taken before getting on the bus this morning. When it was Matt's turn, the administerer of the thermometer asked him if he was cold. Apparently he wasn't registering a high enough temp on the thermometer. He shook his head. She asked him if he had recently had a drink of water. He shook his head. I said, "He was taking huge gulps of air in the car to make sure he didn't have a temperature." She laughed and the thermometer finally beeped with acceptance of Matt's body temperature. She gave him the necessary pink x on his hand to show that he was both possessing of sufficient body heat and free of feverish excess of same, and she sent him on his way.

Jim and I watched the little thing run off to join his friends (with nary a backward glance in our direction) in the gym to get organized into their groups, and then watched his bags as they were loaded onto the big industrial-strength buses (no school buses, these; the kids were going in style with a coach-style bus complete with an onboard bathroom--several older sibs told Matt to try to sit as far away from it as possible--and cushioned seats). Then we drove home assuring ourselves that the adult chaperones will take good care of him.

I'm sure he will have a good time. It will be quiet around here.

Pick one: A B C D

WARNING: Shameless self-congratulation and giddy joy ahead! Read no further if you don't like reading about happy things. If you like reading strangely sad things, check out this website instead.

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Just waiting for all the nay-sayers and rain-on-my-paraders to click over to something else.

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No, I'm not pregnant. Other people are, and I am happy for them. But I will not be dipping my feet into the gene pool anymore.

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Although, if through some miracle I were to become pregnant, I guess I could live with it.


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As long as I got to name it Louisa if it was a girl. Kevin for a boy. Or possibly Mal. Too bad I've already named the cat Tom Servo. Cuz that would be an awesome name for a kid.


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But no baby.

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No million dollars either. (Oh well)

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K, are all the naysayers and party poopers gone? Have all the people who roll their eyes when I post something new left?

OK. Here is my (possibly braggiferous) news:


HIST 414 Scottish Family History project grade: A

Ten things I noticed while looking at good art

Jim and I went to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts yesterday to see the pieces on loan from the Louvre. This is probably as close as I'm going to get to the famous museum.

1. I picked out pieces from all the eras I've studied so far in my two humanities classes. I got a kick out of seeing examples for real and being able to pinpoint a time period and sometimes even a general European place from whence the artist came.
2. Even art museum tour guides can be really funny. Even OLD art museum tour guides can be funny. I wanted to be a part of one of the tours just so I could follow this old tour guide with unruly white hair and pants hitched up to his chest and a loosely knitted woolen vest, and listen to his love of art that showed in his exuberant story-telling.
3. This painting by Georges La Tour made me laugh. I love the lady's facial expression--her eyes look so far off to the side. You can just tell she's a part of the cheat going on.For some reason she reminds me of Pearl Forrester.
4. Vermeer's painting was pretty small. It was way cool, don't get me wrong, but for some reason, quintessential masterpieces, in my mind, are large. Mom says Ms Mona L. is pretty small (Mom has been to the Louvre "so many times" that's she's forgotten half the art she's seen there).
5. The last big piece in the exhibit (by John Martin) looked like the painted equivalent of Faust (literary or musical). Lots of "roasting in hell" in that picture.
6. I felt out of place among all the arty-types who wore odd clothing and strange hats and hair twisted in popcorn-like shapes.
7. Even the forgeries on display were beautiful.
8. It was a popular exhibit, this Louvre showing. The rest of the museum was as empty as the vacuum of space.
9. I shouldn't have gone on such a long walk in the morning beforehand. My feet were sore when we got to the museum.
10. It is nearly impossible to leave the museum, and not because there is a lot of good stuff to see. It's because the place is a maze built in a warp in space! I could not have found my way out of there with a map and breadcrumbs leading the way! Each room led to another room that led to another room that led back to the first one. I swear that the rooms can change places just to screw you up. We had a hard time finding an exit and when we did, it was on the other end of the city (almost). We actually had to go outside, walk across a plaza to the way we went in and just so we could find a bathroom. The experience reminded me of the Eagles song, "Hotel California":
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"relax," said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
But you can never leave!

Veteran's Day

To all the servicemen and servicewomen in various parts of the world: A big hug and thank you! You are doing something that most of the rest of us, for various reasons, usually back away from doing. You put your life where your beliefs are and actively chose to be the protectors of national freedom. Now whether or not our country's leaders have used the armed forces wisely is not something I will debate. Regardless of that ongoing debate, I respect those who have chosen to enter the military. And I want to thank their families too. I have seen their sacrifices up close. Fake child's father is in the middle of a deployment to a far away place and I have seen the worry on FC's mother's face in and out these past months. So thank you, veterans, for being there for the country!

(And thank you also for your sacrifice so the people who make up holidays would make one up for the veterans so that Jim could get a day off work in his cube so he could come look at good art with me. Hello, Louvre exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts! His presence will make up for lack of mail and bank services.)

And the heavens opened and choirs of angels were singing hallelujahs and pumping their fists in the air

For several months now, we have had a problem with our computer. We would try to access a webpage and, for a nanosecond, the page would materialize on the screen. But then a search page would pop up listing websites selling things. And the things this page was offering was totally unrelated to what we were originally trying to locate. Certain pages on some websites were totally inaccessible because of this pop-up website.

This morning, I was on amazon dot com wishing for things, and I couldn't even do a simple search within amazon because of this ask dot com thingie that kept me from my destination page. I wanted to claw my computer's eyes out.

So I've spent the morning troubleshooting. And this is after several weeks of googling for remedies. A few weeks ago, following one such method recommended by a search query, I tried messing around with the control panel and accessibility features, but succeeded only in blocking necessary websites (smartmusic dot com and another school-related website) from being accessed without a password. (Sorry about that, kids. I have rectified the matter. No more--hopefully--having to type in a totally girly password to access school stuff. I promise brownies later to make up for you having to type "lotsofcutekittiesandprettyprincessbarbies" [not the real password, just an incredible simulation])

Finally, this morning, after choking back buckets of hatred and primitive urges to kill furry creatures and mangling hard drives, I think I found the problem. I downloaded an adblocker to Firefox (my browser) and I was able to search for Halloween scrapbook papers (yes Halloween is forever on my mind) on amazon without ask dot com jumping in front of everything and saying "HEY LOOK AT ME!!! AREN'T I SPECIAL??" And now, all the websites I visit load MUCH FASTER because the adblocker blocks all those ads on the sidebar that get loaded first!

So, during this Thanksgiving time of year, I am grateful to the person who came up with adblocker and to the search engine that led me to the adblocker itself.

Pictures from a Sunday afternoon

This is a test of the emergency post-filler system. If this were an actual emergency, I'd be rambling on about hangnails, grocery shopping, spider stories, or something equally irrelevant rather than posting a few pictures sans comment.

But there is so much more to research!

I just wanted to report that I have nearly finished my Scottish History research project!!! All I have to do is attach some neatly printed tabs to the page dividers and send the binder off to my professor.

You know, I say this about nearly every class I finish, but I think this has to be my favorite class so far. The research I did was personal in nature and connected me in a very real way to my Scottish heritage. I probably didn't turn up anything that hadn't already been done, but letting others do the work was not going to connect me to my ancestors. And as for the work that had already been done, I have proof of what has been done in the way of photocopies of old parochial registers and civil records, proof which I haven't ever seen before.

Oh, I dearly loved scrolling through the Rathen Old Parochial Register microfilm! I am willing to wager that I'm related to most of the names listed in it. I envision myself someday sitting down with the Rathen OPR and going through each entry and creating family groups and linking everybody together!

The hardest part of the research project was STOPPING. There are so many links to follow, so many names to find and put in the appropriate boxes. But of course, I had to stop somewhere or I would never finish the class.

Now I have to study for the final exam. I could actually finish this class when I had planned to finish it! (not so for my Humanities class, but once this class is complete, I can devote all my time to Humanities. I am halfway done with it)

Hooray! (dance of happiness)

Why Purell is my new best friend

Normally I think nothing of walking around licking doorknobs and rubbing my face on the counter, and I encourage my children to do the same, even going so far as to serve dinner to them off the dirty floor.

(smiley)

Not really.

Normally, I don't do much in the way of barricading myself from bacteria or viruses, except I do wash my hands before preparing food and after using the bathroom. But Matt has the flu--probably just the generic flu, not the one you can't get from pigs--and I found myself, yesterday, going around with a Lysol wipe and disinfecting most Matt-high surfaces in the house. And I've been using hand sanitizer every time I bring Matt a drink. I've also been using it on the thermometer after every time he takes his temperature.

Yes, Matt takes his own temperature. He didn't even tell me he was sick on Wednesday morning until he had rock-solid proof. He didn't whine or moan, he just said, "Mom, I felt hot when I woke up so I took my temperature and it's 101." It kind of took all the fun out of playing "Mom." I didn't get to hem and haw and feel his forehead with the back of my hand or dig through the medicine shelf for the thermometer, all the while thinking, I hope he's not sick, I hope he's just warm from being in bed. He did all of it himself.

Matt has been a good little patient, except last night was he was thoroughly sick of being sick. He was bored and wanted to go back to school today in the worst way. But the virus needed another day to exhaust itself and so he's home again today, watching a movie.

I remember enjoying sick days when I was a kid. Most of those years, my mother was a substitute teacher and usually had to work on those days I stayed home. I would get out a pen and the TV guide that came with the Sunday newspaper and circle all the programs I would watch. I'd pull up a TV tray laden with toast and 7-up and watch TV ALL. DAY. LONG. I'd watch Sesame Street (even when I was in junior high), The Price is Right, and all the soaps--All My Children (because that reminded me of one of my grandmas--she called it "her story," as in "go outside and play while I watch my story"), One Life to Live, and General Hospital (because that reminded me of the other grandma, who would let us watch it when we stayed with her).

Matt tried watching the movie that he swears makes him feel better--the Spongebob Squarepants movie--but it didn't work this time. I told him maybe it only works when he has a stomachache. It doesn't work on fevers.

He woke up this morning with no fever, but I'm keeping him home for one more day of recuperation.

Please please please let me not get sick.

They might be AWESOME

Jim and I had a dinner date planned for tonight (speaking in past tense. It's still tonight, but the date is over and I'm in the retelling mode so it's past tense). When he got home at 4:30, he proposed a change in plans. Rather than doing what we had planned, he wondered if perhaps I wanted to go to First Avenue to see They Might Be Giants?

!!!!

DUH! You should have seen my dance of glee and joy and excitement! I am SO GLAD I didn't have to babysit this evening!

I've never been to First Avenue nightclub--and I've lived here how many years?

Then the insecurity started to set in. I'm a housewife! I'm over, uh, thirty! I'm not thin and my wardrobe lacks panache and something called "style." My hair had already pretty much gone to bed and could not be roused to do anything but droop listlessly over my ears. I don't go clubbing ever. I don't know the rules of going to a nightclub! But I pummeled my insecurity into the back of the closet with the forgotten pillows, the nebulizer machine, and a pile of worn out shoes, I put on my oxblood heels (yes I wore heels to a place where I'd be standing for several hours) and a bracelet that I hope looked classy. I grabbed my "vintage" coat (the one that Matt happily, and what he thought kindly, told me that I looked like a couch in). I envisioned bouncers screening potential concert-goers and figured that wearing that green patterned coat with the faux fur collar would be my ticket in.

Thank goodness the only requirement to get in was to bring a friend named Andrew Jackson (a bit o' green). Jim and I found spots near the back of the dance floor. We were there nearly two hours early, but the cement half wall was already taken and the floor was 2/3 full.

And finally the concert began! I was close enough to see both Johns' faces! Linnell and Flansburgh RIGHT THERE, not thirty feet away!

And they were going to do the WHOLE Flood album! Not necessarily in sequence, but STILL! The WHOLE album! My favorite one! Particle Man, Istanbul (not Constantinople), Birdhouse in Your Soul, We Want a Rock, Your Racist Friend, Hot Cha, Whistling in the Dark, Lucky Ball and Chain! Oh I was in happy land!

And they were loud! The crowd was loud right back at them. I sang every word I that I could and I couldn't hear myself. The bass line was loud enough to rearrange your internal organs. The drum beat was musical CPR. You could almost see the sound vibrations pass through the foggy air (no smoking indoors, THANK GOODNESS. It was smoke from the fog machine).

Too bad I had to stand behind the biggest guy in the room. Flansburgh mentioned that this was probably the tallest audience they've seen on their tour. It was probably a joke but nonetheless I felt practically little-peopleian. This is why I wore my three-inch heels--so I would have some chance of seeing the stage among the herd of gargantuan Vikings, Swedes, Danes, and smattering of Germans that populate the Minnesotan Prairie. When the concert finally began, the Giant Man was off to the side, but gradually, like the Sahara encroaching on Central Africa, he moved in front of me. And my circle of personal space went the way of the dinosaur. I was forced to make bodily contact with him more than once and I nearly died.

But even the pretend claustrophobia stemming from being jammed in with a crowd of people who all had a good 6 inches at least on me (except Jim, who was jammed up between me and a garbage can) couldn't dampen the enthusiasm I had for singing along with a bunch of songs that I know backward and forward. All of us sang. It was like the alt-rock version of a Messiah sing-a-long.

Sadly, cameras were verboten so I have no pictorial evidence of the concert. So you'll have to imagine me dancing along with nearly a large town's worth of people.

For a few hours, I forgot the dumpiness, the overweightness, the dowdiness, the awkwardness and enjoyed being at a hip downtown music club, dancing and singing like I was a part of an "in" crowd. After the show, I passed by glass window and the illusion was shattered, but for a little while, I forgot my insecurities. It was worth it.

My feet hurt at the end of the night, but I smiled all the way home. Jim and I held hands from time to time during the concert. We need to enjoy live music more often.

Moving dreams and Hayley

I wonder what it means when you have moving dreams? (Moving as in leaving one house to live in another) The apartment we moved to (yes, an apartment) was huge. The master bedroom went on for ages and had all these great built-in bookshelves and a wall of windows to look out over a scenic view. There were hidden passages and nooks and crannies and red velvet curtains. Then we moved in and the staircase was flimsy and collapsed and the tv reception we found out to be a mirrored reflection off the lobby tv sent through a crazy maze of mirrors and a hole in the door. Might it mean that what I want (bigger things) might actually be not what is best for me? Might it mean I'm trying to take control over too much and life is falling apart? Might it mean don't ever move or your husband will hurt himself on a collapsed staircase? Might it mean that I need to go to bed earlier so I don't fall asleep on the couch and have vivid dreams? Oh, who knows what it means. I just woke up and am still suffering from the after-effects of living a completely different life. (What, I have 5 kids? and a tiny TV?)

On to Hayley. Two things.

She was invited to be in the combined middle schools' honor band. The invitation made her very happy! I was almost convinced that she didn't care much about music because she spends most of her time drawing or reading and not talking about band like her big sister used to (and still does now that she's going to play the flute in a volunteer orchestra that will present the Messiah later this month). But this made her very happy. Paul was in this same band (Kate wasn't because they hadn't formed it when she was in the middle school) and enjoyed it for the most part (he didn't like the concert uniform which consisted of black pants, a tux shirt, a bow tie and a cummerbund--DANGIT I FORGOT TO GIVE HAYLEY HER MEASUREMENT SHEET FOR UNIFORM ORDERING!!!! SEE ARE AY PEA!--guess what that is). The honor band is a very good group. They play difficult music and spend time on performance technique. They participate in contests (the equivalent of conference meets for cross country). Last year the group even went to Chicago for a bigger contest and did very well. Cheers to Hayley for making it in! She's been practicing using some program on the computer/web that plays the song as if a school band were playing it and she plays along. It can, through a microphone, chart what she plays and show her where she played notes (wrong and right). It's really a nifty set-up. And she can send her recording to her teacher (over the web) for grading.

Also for Hayley, she babysat for the first time last night! It the first job she had performed for someone outside the family. She said the baby was a little difficult to get to sleep but otherwise she liked it. She REALLY liked getting paid. I wish she'd had more experience with babysitting at home, but that would have meant I had to have more children. And no. But she had a unit on babysitting last year in school and I gave her a few suggestions and told her that I would be just a phone call away. She didn't call and she came home several sheets of green paper with faces on it richer.

I'm finally starting to wake up now and it's time for me to eat breakfast and attend to my babysitting. Fake child is here.

Ten things as we launch into November (ACK!)

1. I love fall/autumn. I love driving through a rainstorm of yellow leaves. I love seeing nature hide well-manicured lawns with them and cover streets with them. I spent a little time raking this year only because Fake Child wanted to play outside and jump into a pile of leaves.
2. I remembered my own children doing the same thing, squealing with delight. At the time it seemed like they were taking forever to grow up. But forever turned into yesterday, last year, and several years ago. Now they play frisbee outside in the cold and rain, they go running, they hide in their room and draw anime, they build Lego monuments to Star Wars. And they move away and call home to ask what can they do to help a roommate with sinister, unnamed health issues.
3. I got most of my Halloween decorations boxed up. It's sad to put all that orange and black away. I don't really know why I like Halloween so much. Maybe it's the contrast of light and dark. I love the way the light shines through the jack o' lantern face and creates something new. I love the bright colors (and the dark and ominous ones).
4. I started a new knitting project aside from the new KAL and it's actually going pretty quickly despite having to rip out part of it because somehow it got wonky on me.
5. Paul is done with cross country for the year. The majority of the team, including Paul, had a bad race at sectionals. The weather was crappy and he just didn't feel right. We sighed, we patted, we didn't take pictures because it was raining, and we said, "next year." His main goal for this year was to get under 18 minutes. He was so close with an 18:08 as his fastest time. Next year, we said again. He has two more "next years." Next up is track in the spring.
6. I need to go grocery shopping today.
7. I need to start making assignments for Thanksgiving dinner. Brothers, expect phone calls soon (not that any of you read this. But Jen does, so Jen, start thinking of what Mike can contribute to Thanksgiving dinner. Those pheasant tidbits last year were delish...hint hint hint. And I'm pretty sure Marissa looks at this as well, so Marissa, put the bug in Dave's ear that I will be calling soon).
8. Yes, mom let me be in charge of asking people to bring stuff to Thanksgiving dinner. I guess I'm old enough to handle a little responsibility now. She's still hogging the turkey duty though. And pies. But she makes terrific pies.
9. I'm hungry. I should eat before I go grocery shopping.
10. I can't believe it's already November!