Brrrrr

Feels like 5*. Requires faux fur.

Ready for snow!

Fun, Love and Snow Is In the Air

February 13

I started the long weekend with a "galentine" date

where we sipped smuggled mini bottles of Merlot with Valentine straws and ate sweet tart hearts. The movie...heavy on suggestion, light on substance. Boardered on cheesy; as the audience laughter attested too. 

February 14

The way to catch a lady is with flowers.

The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. So I cooked: surf n turf. With a bit of bubbly to quench the thirst. 

Twenty-eight years ago King Ralph asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. I said yes! Best decision I ever made!! 

It was a Happy Valentines Day!

February 15 

We smoked meats. 

It seems lately when M comes home for a visit she is always having to beat Mother Nature at her weather games.  Instead of leaving Monday, as planned, she left Sunday afternoon.  I feel like we are being robbed (again) of our time to love on her.  She had to take dinner to go. 

(Mother Nature you better dump your predicted ten inches or there will be bones to pick with you!) 

February 16 

10am - The snow is still falling lightly, flakes dancing in the air. It wasn't the big snow predicted; definitely not the kind of snow that will roll into a Tuesday school snow day. Moving from the couch was a challenge, but I moved to brew a steaming, frothy cup of Joe, and splashed in a dash of Bailey's. It was my day off, after all.

Then I pulled on my long johns, added another layer of clothing, and shoveled the driveway. It was a tranquil chore. The neighborhood was void of activity. The only sound to be heard was that of my shovel getting down to concrete. 

As the evening beckoned the sky returned to it's hue of blue and puffs of white clouds, where the sun beamed in it's stage to set.  I returned to the couch where I stared at a roaring fire. Silence surrounded. 

Weekend. Success. 

Mother Nature Is A Big Tease!

The STL weather is unbelievable this weekend. It's like early Spring. Vitamin D raining down on pale skin, invigorating the spirit and soul. However; I'm no fool to know it's another one of Mother Nature's teases--which she's rather good at this winter. While my friends in Chicago and Boston are giving overtime to their snow shovels...I dream of one of those blizzards that leaves ones curled up on the couch with a good book and a roaring fire, and a snow day. Sure my snow days aren't the stay-at-home kind, but rather, pretty much, alone in the office. While I'm working through some inner struggles of truth and honesty in the work place, I'd almost give my left pinkie for a snow day of solitude. 

In the meantime, I sit in the deck listening to music, sipping a cold one and embracing the sunshine. 

Happy SUNday! 

Tasty Tuesday

My work atmosphere is odd at best. My job today was filled busy work. Waiting for me at home was meat cooking in the crock pot, waiting me to turn it into a delicious pot of rosemary beef stew.  Then Princess A got home from work and whipped out some homemade pita bread. 

The way to calming my heart and soul, sometimes, comes from a hearty meal. 

Bon appetite!  

Clear The Mind and Soul, Commune With Nature

We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves. 

~Buddha 

My city has left me so conflicted of late, that an escape into nature was exactly what my soul was begging for. A day off work allowed me, us, such an indulgence. 

There is something so beautiful and peaceful about walking through a dormant winter forest. High above the bluffs, looking down, the trees naked of folliage, is nothing short of a picture of beauty. Down on the ground, looking up, the sky is clear and blue. The sun beats down feeding us with a big dose of much needed vitamin D. We soaked it up, almost in euphoria, knowing good and well Old Man Winter is still lurking around the corner. A 57* January Midwestern day is a tiny tease. We know this! 

We hiked for three hours. Stopping to frolick on the beach of the Missouri River. We sat on a piece of drift wood, looking out to the river, chatting about nothing heavy...we talked Lewis and Clark's expedition and the river's current. The trees barren, showcased their snow white bark, and it glistened under an umbrella of sunshine.  This day, for us, was about peace. 

We made our way back into Klondike State Park, where we walked the lake loop. As we stopped on the bridge, to gaze at the lake, with its white sand bank surround...we could hear the crackling of the lake's ice coat melting. It is in the serenity of nature's squeaks that you can absorb the peaceful sounds Mother Nature offers up.  And. Absorb we did! 

Bring on the crazy of a work week. We are centered! 

Five minus Two Equals: Us and The Working Girl Who Lives In the Basement

M left last Saturday in a race against the forecast.  A weather pattern of--nothing! Mother Nature you like to tease! 

Tuesday I rushed home from work to pack the car, college is beckoning D. D must return before the student population is assigned to return, due to opera practice. It's like we are being cheated of five days of loving our baby (and her strew messes) while she crafts her skills and chases her dreams. 

As we cruised down the highway, Mother Nature gave her own send off...or was it a calming sign of great things to come in the second semester. 

Of course returning earlier than others means the nonexistence of cafeteria served meals.  Walmart (or "shit mart", affectionately nick named by Princess A, due to the neighboring cattle farm's wafting scent) enjoyed our added pump to the economy, as the cart filled with five days of meals.  

Then we lugged all D's stuff up three flights of stairs.  Oh, oh, wait. The joy of this early deposit to college means getting the BEST unloading spot without a wait or fight. King Ralph and I helped D reassemble the dorm room, vacuum, and tidy up her temporary home. But home and work was calling our names. We kissed our baby good-bye (me like fifty times on the cheek...kisses is multiplies last longer on the heart). Then D stood in the doorway and waved us out 

 

Then we peaced out. 

Till it's opera performance day. 

Tell Me Something Thursday

It's damn cold outside. My brain is frozen and shut down. So, I've got nothing to tell, but something to show. 

My doggie helps do dishes. Does yours? 

He

While I've spent the last month running around, trying to find the right cream liqueur and prepare the perfect bourbon beef tenderloin...my friend/co-worker has been mourning the death of her son. Puts perspective on the silliness of things we worry and stress about.   

Three weeks ago after a short, yet seemingly long, and valiant, battle against cancer-while also struggling with another disease robbing his eye sight-my friend laid her 28 year old son to rest in a quiet graveside service.  Saturday night was different. Saturday was a celebration and tribute of a young man's life. A young man who dripped musical theater talent. A young man who was remembered in Broadway fashion. 

It was in that Broadway fashion, that many of his best friends and mentors eulogized him...I mean celebrated him; in song, by singing songs that said something special about him.  Like "Till Him" from The Producers.  He had always envisioned himself playing the part made famous by Nathan Lane. "Till Him" was a perfect song for a guy who was remembered as an encourage-er of others. He made those that felt lost find themselves through theater, made them a part of a tight knit "family."  So "Till Him" was nothing short of a perfect selection to convey the message 

No one ever made me feel like someone

'Til him

Life was really nothing but a glum one

'Til him 

My existence bordered on the tragic

Always timid, never took a chance

Then I felt his magic

And my heart began to dance 

I was always frightened, fraught with worry...

'Til him

I was going nowhere in a hurry

'Til him

He filled up my empty life

Filled it to the brim

There could never ever be

Another one...like him

... Thank you, Max. I sang it for you. I sang it because I'm your friend

He was a young man who, with a friend and partner in crime, started up a community theater company. The original cast of the company's first production reunited at the church on Saturday to sing the final tribute and the song "Happiness" from You're A Good Man Charlie Brown. I was driven to wells of tears in my eyes when one of the young men singing found it hard to carry on, as the song neared the last verse of the chorus. 

It was a beautiful celebration of a life once lived.  We all could only hope to be loved and missed by so many.  He was a baby who smiled ear to ear on the day he was born.  To see that picture proves he was a little man full of love for life.  It also proves to me, that while we are here on earth we should find our passions and loves, embodying that love, that zest-- and really live! The guy with the jazz hands.

He was Vince.  

Every Dog Has A Day(s)

(I've never surveyed squirrels from this window. This is marvelous! Thanks Princess A!)

Uli is in recovery. Not from relatives sneeking her sips of spiked nog or nibbles of bourbon soaked beef tenderloin. No, Uli is in recovery from her routine being all scrambled up. 

You see, Uli is a creature of habit. She likes regiment and order.  She knows exactly the time she wants out in the morning. She knows exactly the time her food bowl gets filled--twice a day.  She knows exactly where and how to lounge on each family member.  She knows exactly where she likes her kennel, and just how her pallet of blankets inside need to be fluffed. She knows the square of yard she relieves herself.  She knows she hates to be bathed, and hates a King Ralph home spun grooming. 

That was until... 

Three days before Christmas Uli's world of routine was scrambled. She was one pissed off pouch!  We moved her kennel out of the Red Room, into D's bedroom (just to give flow for Xmas company). Then D bathed our stinky hound, left her trapped downstairs till she dried, while I was washing all the floors. 

Bad idea! 

Uli told us just how she felt, in the way only a dog can. 

Yep. 

Shit the floor! 

Damn dog!!

So then she got the clippers for a slight winter trim. 

Thus the snub began. 

Uli refused to have anything to do with us. She neglected our offers of affection. She stared at the spot longingly where her escape pad use to stand. Not to mention the girls dressed her in her elf T-shirt and Xmas sweater. Uli HATES to play dress-up!! Basically Uli had slipped into a doggie depression.  She would sit staring out the French doors, probably plotting against her family. Never breaking her stare to look at us. She was a stone cold hearted dog. 

Then came December 26. Without fanfare her Xmas clothes were packed away and her kennel return to its usual location. Quietly, like a thief in the night (except it was high noon) she's sllinked into her kennel for an afternoon nap. The sun beating through the French doors warmed her fur. At that moment I believe I saw the corners of her mouth turn up, in a smile of euphoria.  

Our pouch was back! 

Bark, bark, hurray!  

I Demand A Repeat

Call me crazy...probably I am...I just said to myself--I wish we could do Christmas all over again.  

I know I moaned and complained about being stressed, and about King Ralph's permanent-reclined-Christmas-watch-it-all-come-together position...

(That's a fresh from the oven gooey butter cookie resting on a napkin on his chest...that he did not rise from the chair to fetch) 

but the Eve of Christmas and Christmas Day; one tranquil and one magical, filled me both heart and soul, beckoning for a repeat. What is not to love about that?! There is always, (especially this year) a beautiful full house Christmas Eve church service, filled with carols, choirs - of both vocal and bells, accompanied by a beautiful message of love, joy, hope and peace. Something my city is in desperate need of finding and understanding.  Something our World is equally in need of finding! 

There is always food. Lots of good food. 

(Christmas Eve) 

Santa never fails. He comes in the night, and I'm now first to see what he left under the tree.  Wasn't like that in the yesteryears. Who knows, maybe little, or now big feet tip toe in the night to survey the wrapped goods? 

The pickle stake went up to $20 this year. All I could hear from M and D was something on the lines of being a poor college kid and needing twenty bucks. 

(D wins!) 

After gift opening, I gave a once over scrub to bathrooms and floors, and vacuumed area rugs for the umpteenth time...the company arrived to play with our new toy: Selfie Snap.

The libations flowed: Grinch Juice and wines.

We ate and played games. New favorite: Racing Horse Game 

Our fun continued on the twenty-sixth, where the 61* day was more Spring than Winter. M asked for, and received a croquet set from Santa (okay from King Ralph and I, but Santa is much more fun to say). Since our backyard was swampy from the rain earlier in the week, we headed to the sculpture park. The park was bustling with folks soaking in the gift of warmth Mother Nature served up. Most walked the trails or played with remote control toys.  We, however, were the envy of the park. 

Next it was time to play with my new toy--the pasta maker attachment for my Kitchenaid mixer. Along with a ravioli press. 

(Served in a treasured pasta bowl that once belonged to King Ralph's paternal grandmother.)  

So I ask. Why wouldn't I want a repeat of Christmas? 

Where Are You Christmas

Where are you Christmas? I know you're out there...I think I found you, finally, this weekend. With just days to spare, my Christmas meter is rising. Aaaahhhh yes! 

Thursday, King Ralph drove down to pick up D from college. D and her hundred tons of shit, I mean stuff. Stuff and all, my heart and home are now full--for the next four weeks; at least. 

Friday was the last day before winter break for students, and although I am working through December 23,, an occasion of this magnitude calls for a family night celebration. So...to the symphony we go. 

I didn't have to beg hard, well, I did hear--"Mom, really, I'm almost 25!" To bad, get up there...and they all three did--sat on Santa's lap . 

"Three beautiful girls. What a treat for Santa!' 

It was a great symphony of holiday music and a sing along. They even gave me a spiritual, and as my family knows, I love a good spiritual. Seriously! 

On the way home we took in a Saint Louis holiday light tradition: Candy Cane Lane and Angel Ave. who doesn't love a neivirhood's collective spirit of celebrating via lighting up every house on the street?!

Saturday brought us to an early Avery Family Christmas.  Wait, I mean, "dysfunctional family fun", or as we like to refer: DFF. It was a great night of food and fun, and the dysfunction was kept to a low roar

 With a toast

And another toast (where's the damn [missing] Charley sign?) 

And...

BOWLING! 

It was the beginning of a beautiful thing. The First Annual Dysfunctional Family Fun Bowling Tournament. When you have two kings pins in the family, what better way could there be to say Merry Family, than at the bowling alley! The King pin cousins were captains, selecting team members by a hat draw of names. Which calmed my repressed memories of school days in PE. There you have it...

Team Loser (can my sweater sag down anymore making me look fat or nine months pregnant? Sigh.) 

Team winner, with a two game series score of 1833. Holding the new and coveted Toby trophy. That golden boy Oscar ain't got shit compared to ceramic Toby! Just saying. 

It's only at this family gathering that you can hear one cousin say to another cousin, "love what you've done with your beard. Gone with the Abraham Lincoln style."

Sunday brought Princess A's  mad cookie skills to the kitchen. 

Christmas to be continued....

Frazzled

Friends I'm stressed!  S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D! Stressed.  And I'm not afraid to tell anyone who asks, "how are you?" Which always prompts the question, "why?"

Why?  You wanna know why?

Well, let's see...

There's work.  WORK!  I won't go there.  Not to mention I have to work till December 23, while students are done on the nineteenth.  Perhaps I'm just plain jealous? Perhaps? No I am!  There was the lights on my pre-lit tree that went out, in the center of the tree...but I fixed that stress-er after five days of stressing about it.  I still have a few gifts to get--so those folks will just be getting gift cards. Christmas Cards.  Screw that, I eliminated the cards, but not without King Ralph (who's never touched our cards) moan about it.  When will I clean?  When will I grocery shop?  When will I bake? Do laundry? Iron?  

M and D are arriving home from college with their hundred tons of stuff.  M is home now and it looks like she is back forever; when it is just a month.  D arrives home tomorrow.  Surely to come with her hundred tons of stuff.  Why does the "stuff" have to sit idle for three days, engulfing their bedrooms, before they decide to wake up from their 48 hour post final naps and then shuffle it to the appropriate holding spot?  It's a mother stress mess!

I made myself a chore chart yesterday.  I pray it helps me to pace my stress.

While I tackle my chore chart, we will be celebrating M's 22nd birthday.  Princess A has a cookie order to fill.  We have the holiday concert at the STL Symphony and an early Avery Family Christmas, and the family Christmas bowling tournament. (We'll visit my mad bowling skills at a later date.)

Oxygen.  I need oxygen!      

I'm now cranking up the Christmas tunes, grabbing some cleaning supplies and checking a few areas of my chore chart.

Tis' the Season.

 

Temperature In The Air

May the weather from the Thanksgiving Eve skies cool the tempers on the ground.

All I Have to Say On This This Thursday Is...

The Day Is Still

 

Snow is what it does.

It falls and it stays and it goes.

It melts and it is here somewhere.

We all will get there.

_ Frederick Seidel

Pitchy, Flat, Sharp...What Do I Know, Always Sounds Good to Me!

King Ralph and I have an obligation free weekend.  Time belongs to us, so we thought we'd go visit our D at college.  You know, the kind of visit that fills a parent's heart, and empties the wallet--gladly.  Except we were told by D that she was to busy for us.  She was singing the National Anthem at the football game, and had a sorority dance to get ready for after...so time with us just wasn't in her cards. Damn! 

As much we would have loved to see our D in a moment of musical glory today...driving the distance, to freeze our tails off for an always-losing-football-team's game, with little D time, sounded--not worth the highway ride.  So we just fluttered about our own town.  

King Ralph and I were hanging out, enjoying a holiday coffee, when we got a text message that included this video


I am told, they were a "little pitchy."  I'm just everyone's musical cheerleader; sounds good to me.  Maybe a highly trained ear would agree, but I am just thankful my ear or ears are not.  What I do know is that D is the center of the trio and no cock of my head will offer me a view of her cute little face.  I just have to listen for those high notes to know she is there.

And I'm told they sang the Dixie Chicks rendition. 


What do you think?  Similar?

Hiding From The Great Pumpkin

Halloween season use to be a process leading up to the big day.  There were the trips to the fabric store to select a pattern and material for the perfect costume, a trip to the pumpkin patch, decorating the inside and outside of the house.  Carving the pumpkin required a family meeting--a lesson in the democratic process of voting [on the carve patterns].  There was the constant lessons of how to say "trick-r-treat"...because nothing gets my goat more than a plastic pumpkin stuck in my face by stretched out arms, expecting candy without a cheerful prompt.  There was annual chili supper with the neighbors.  Then when I returned to work after seventeen years as a stay-at-home mom--thinking of a costume for myself to match the office theme was an additional chore, a fun and welcomed chore.  Halloween was magical in all its ghoulishness.

Now....

Work is no longer peppered with elementary holiday sweetness, it instead has been mentally exhausting,  So, when Halloween night begged an invitation to hide out in the dark, we took it!  King Ralph and I sat in the living room in the dark, only the glow of the TV to add light to the room.  We ordered a pizza and wings and calculated our escape from the garage to fetch our food.  First we stopped at the grocery store each selecting our own seasonal selection of beer and a Redbox movie. Now here's the funny of it all.  As we drove up our street we saw only a solo trick-r-treat-er.  She had a car following behind her...parents don't like 35* Halloween nights after a week of 80* temperatures. Almost every house on our street was dark.  The young took the fun else where, and the old (I guess King Ralph and I tossed ourselves in this category) hid in the dark...from no one.  How hilarious is that?!

While King Ralph and I hid in the dark tossing back beers and munching on pizza and wings, our girlies were out putting a mark on Halloween. D was performing at the NATS (National Association of Teachers Singing) Recital.  Which is a BIG deal to be selected by your college professor to perform. D was the only non-senior from SEMO selected to sing.  Although D felt great about her performance, sadly it didn't progress to the next round as she had hoped.  I sent her this text: Remember what Karen Carpenter sang "don't worry if it not good enough for anyone else to hear, just sing, sing a song."  Take this experience as a moment in life to grow and learn from. These are the events that will help shape you into a stronger person and a better more compassionate teacher. And most of all, never forget...your momma ❤️you! 😘😘😘😘😘😘 

Meanwhile, Princess A took to the highway to visit M at MSU where they donned the matching costumes M had created for them.

While in the back off the mind you can hear Jack Nicholson saying "all work and no play make Jack a dull boy."

King Ralph and I spent the rest of the weekend going to the movies, shopping, eating yummy foods and lounging on the couch in our pajamas. 

Happy Fall Back On the Clock! 

Teenager No More

Twenty years ago it was pumpkin spice and chocolate layer cake to ring in one year of life.

Twenty years later it's a cheese cake hauled down the highway to college...along with a gift and a pumpkin for carving with your roommate. 

I'm super excited to see what life has in store for my baby. I'm certain what ever it may be will be sprinkled with pixie dust.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEMI ANNE! xoxo  

Weekday Morning Ritual

I have a morning ritual-- on Monday and Friday I stop at Starbucks before work and grab a grande skinny vanilla latte (with hopes of spotting the affair couple, for pure entertainment).  On Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday I brew English Breakfast tea to sip at my desk.  On the drive to work I always pop in a CD that D made and advance it to track five--and I sing.  I sing because I know all the words and because it makes me happy to sing.  Regina Spektor's Folding Chair is my morning happy song. I don't care who sees me singing my heart out in the car.  If I'm not exactly happy, or I'm loathing the impending work environment, this song cheers me up.

Lately I've needed this song!

If you just happening to be thinking of me tomorrow...at say around 6:40am....feel free to sing along

Little House of Memories Tainted

 While we were out in the city on Saturday, shopping at Soulard Market and eating at Bogart's, 

we decided a trip down memory lane was in order. We twisted down city streets, stopped to take in the river view

before finally arriving at the little house at the edge of the city that holds so many memories for King Ralph.  Its been fourteen years since King Ralph's grandma passed and that he's been to the house where memories linger.

Memories of King Ralph and his sisters living in the converted attic with his very young parents.  Memories of being a mischievous boy--climbing on the roof (at age five, when no one was looking) freaking the neighbor who spotted him. Memories of locking his grandma's cat in a chest, and his grandma very mad at him.  Growing up, moving away, coming back for holidays or to mow the grass. Living once again in that converted attic to save money and keep his widowed Grandma company.  Right there in front of the hydrangias King Ralph and I built an eight foot snowman, when we were dating. Memories flooding the mind, until....

he looked past the yard of shit and saw goats in the backyards. GOATS! Not one, but TWO GOATS! Are the goats a lawn mower or dinner? BUT GOATS! Why? 

Memories stalled and only texts of goat spotting was shared. Little house of memories has been tainted.