Ice is Work!

What would we do without helpful neighbors?

Ice Ice, Ice, last week we were iced in and like the rest of the city, we stuck close in and waited it out. We're from the land of snow and blizzards, but ice storms are a whole other beast.

After four days of climbing the cabin walls, I sent the boys out to de-ice. I joined them in 50 degree shortsleeve weather to begin the work of chipping off our three inch accumulation. After a couple of hours, the neighbor yelled from across the street, "If you wait til tomorrow, it will be melted."
That is the typical Tulsa response. The natives know that ice storms are reassuringly followed by 60 degree weather that melts the chill and salves the shock.

Moments before, I had just stated that fact to the boys. Unfortunately, I had a party scheduled that next morning, so there would be no waiting--for reasons of liability. So I shouted back that that regretful caveat.

Next thing I knew, this helpful man had hopped in his car, slipped and slithered his way across the street and was giving me all kinds of opinions and advice. "You will just make things worse. This melting will be a sheet tomorrow." "You know what your only hope is?"

"Yes," I responded, "I do have an intimate knowledge of rock salt, as I am originally from the state with the only inland salt lake."

"Well, the man sighed, "Okay" and I could see it in his eyes, "I can't rescue this woman from herself." and then slid himself back across the street, home.

And my sons and I went back to chopping, chipping, and scraping, ever grateful for helpful neighbors.

Read related article: Boys 2 Men http://handleitwithhumor.blogspot.com/2009/02/boys-2-men.html

Kitsch Craft Wars

I was once so crafty! I considered myself a crafter and my girlfriends at the time could attest! I was handy with a spray can and when the seasonal colors changed, they would find me out in the driveway, painting all my home decor the newest decorator colors!

I thought that crafting was a phase that I passed through as a young, innocent (ignorant) and destitute college wife, but I'm back. This is one of my recent masterpieces! This is Art! Be amazed and wowed!

I am kitschy crafting once again!

The husband is thinking... Oh kill me now.

And should anyone wonder.... those are winter pods of the sweet magnolia tree, red seeds intact.

Life Shorts

My friend -- I want to write about an acquaintance but more than that, a friend who would cause me to stop in passing and ask about children (three like me, all my ages). I have been to her house, eaten her food, and loved our conversations. You know the kind of friend I mean, a dear friend, but ephemeral.

Anyway, she went to sleep Tuesday and didn't wake up.

And that is the kind of thing that throws all kinds of kinks into life.

Not for me, but still... somehow for me. I anguish with her family, imagine their sorrow, their anger, their frustrations, and I ache for their sorrow, their anger, their frustration.

How hard. How incredibly hard. I think about it all day while I clean closets. Which is all I'm good for since I broke the internet.

While I'm not close enough to intrude, to go, to mourn, to hold and hug or sustain, to feed, to succor, I can still pray that her family is being comforted by angels, human or celestial.

Immediate prayer is all I can do. And while I know deep down that this is enough--truly, the power that prayer carries is enough--but while I know that, I still wonder how they are doing.

And deeper than that, what I'm really wondering is how would my family be doing, should this happen to me?

I can only hope that my family knows that I trust God--that I know He knows and loves me and has a plan and my best interests at heart. And with that thought comes the sureity that a prayer offered to Him is enough.

If I have done that, as my friend personified, then a life even so short has been just long enough.

Momma & Father Christmas

Pam this post is for you... the intentionally internet illiterate. I hope you can get it.

Just what you need, evidence of Momma kissin' Santa. You better not let the grands see this one. Hugs, Terina

Reason Not Intent

I've reached a brilliant epiphany today. And here it is.

"One's intent, or lack thereof, should never diminish the outcome."

I mopped today! I should get major kudos for mopping today. In spite of the fact that I was forced to mop today, still, it should count.

The floor is beautiful and the cupboards and the walls, and the front of the appliances. And I am happy.

Now.

But when my body inadvertently channelled Jackson Pollock, (totally of its own volition) and used the entire kitchen as a blank canvas to splash a gigantic figure eight using an entire can of liquid beef bouillon (which should have been a solid), I was not happy.

So, in life, however dubious the beginning, an auspicious ending should totally count.

New Years Polish

Headlight restorer defogger. It Works! If you can't do anything more in the struggling economy of the new year, I recommend that you go ahead and spring for the $20.00 fix to give you a brighter outlook on life.

Look at the before and after shots! I was skeptical (no, not me!) but the product seems to be more than just snake oil. It worked.

Welcoming House

We know why we enjoy returning to Utah. It seems everywhere we look there are welcoming arms outstretched.

The children love searching out the welcomes to be found in the oddest places.

Indoors and out...

Everywhere we look.

We truly feel loved and welcomed there.

It's country and warm and comfy.

Gotta love it there.

Even in the deepest winter, we feel warmth.

And love and joy and

Indoors.

Utah has such a welcoming presence and the house there echos that feeling.

Outside... Utah is less welcoming,

and less warm, but we adapt.

Ian Brace Face

Ian getting braces 1-5-09.

As a parent I have woefully neglected my son's dental health. I thought because his teeth were straight that he didn't need braces. HA! At the last dentist visit I was shown attrition that had ground off fifty years of his bottom teeth.

Ooops, neglectful parent. So the prognosis is Senior, Prom, and Graduation pictures will all be bracefaced. He should have been finished with orthodontia by now.

Oh well, I wonder the college search will go? We'll be visiting searching for the best social, educational, and a really good ortho who is willing to take over contracts.

YAY!
Maybe after all I won't have to worry about grad, prom or senior picts because he
wouldn't let me take a final shot. I only got these because the nurse had him tethered.

Holiday Posting

I hate to see Christmas end. I would like those delightful moments of joy to last forever and this is how I manage to extend our holiday happiness well into January.

We jump into the celebration feet first--right at the outset. In our twenty-six year marriage, we've never once celebrated Christmas at home. When one arranges to celebrate Christmas away from home, the holiday excitements begins as we drive 19 hours (split into two days) akin to the pilgrimage to Mecca.

Ian drove it this year and proved he has his grandfathers blood, a trucker as is his father. He pulled six hours nonstop (okay, me and potty breaks aside) the first day.

Once we arrive, the presents commence Christmas Eve and don't end until each and every one of both sides of the extended family arrives and departs, besting even Hanukkah for longevity. This year, it was a sixteen-day celebration with six major parties. (I'll explain later).
So finally we return home (only 18.5 hours nonstop) where I'll continue the joyous activities of December's celebration well into the month of January. But, I pull it off all in reverse.

I'll begin to put away the tree and repack all the decorations bound for the attic and sense a feeling of de-je-vous. It's eerie--it seems I just went through these same motions less than 24 hours ago at the other venue of celebration. There I took down the tree, the lights, and cleaned. I collected of all the detritus left from Christmas and packed--culminating with the emptying of the fridge.

But here, the exact reverse of the process occurs, I'm filling the fridge and I unpack and fling all the contents haphazardly throughout the house, and then I again begin taking down the tree, packing up the lights, the decorations--it's all the same.

I'll say it again-- For me, vacations are as much work as being home. It's just a different venue.
And with that thought, I willing to bet that I can stretch out this process until February 14th at least.

Musing on Menses (men are offended by this)

For those offended at the topic of menstruation... don't read this.

Okay, I couldn't resist blogging this. I'm not easily offended by body functions. Stuff happens and boys and girls, if the nose if bleeding, I'll blog it. So, in the spirit of nondiscrimination -- it's all PC... here goes.

________________

This is an actual letter from an Austin, Texas woman sent to Proctor and Gamble regarding one of their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. This was PC Magazine's 200 Editors' Choice award-winner for the best letter sent via e-mail.

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for Over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts.

But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing? As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our Intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'

Are you freaking kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James?

FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong'.

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullcrap. And that's a promise I will keep.

******** from Austin TX

------

You may be offended, but I, Terina, after torturous years of suffering, am laughing.

New TV

This is it Dia. Now you see what we could afford to get as soon as you left home. Hugs, Mum