For Dessert Pumpkin Pie With Whipped Cream. But First...

There is nothing like an early start to Thanksgiving--530am. 

 A start that did not summons to stuff a turkey bird in the oven...

instead to dress girls in uniforms for a parade down St. Louis' Market Street.  

The one and only time I have been to the Thanksgiving Day "Christmas in St. Louis" parade was in 2004 when Princess A marched.  Back in 2004 it was beautiful day.

In 2010 it will be remembered as a dreary-cold-windy-rainy day.

And the band marches on.

No one complains as we watch our favorite band take to the pavement--

where they placed fourth in the competition
with the bonus of outstanding drum major and percussion. 

Well M did moan a tad about how hard holding a flag pole can be 

as the wind attempts to take it sailing from her hands. 

 She fought back and kept a hold. 

  

      For just a little while the weather calmed and we were all smiles watching

There is only one other person in the world who would enjoy watching the popper scoopers in the parade more than me and my pal Terri...and that's Nellie. 

 I wonder how one gets this prestigious job? 
Do you volunteer? 
Are you appointed? 
Maybe it's a punishment for being a crappy (no pun intended) employee...
or are those criminals serving community service--those are the police mounty.
 Nothing says Happy Thanksgiving like a good shovel and a 1.5 mile walk whiffing horse dung. 
Try being placed next to those guys at dinner--no thank you! 

Where else in the world can you go to see Clifford the Big Red Dog all stretched out in a sexy center fold pose looking more like a wiener dog than a bloodhound?
  I'm guessing no where!
 Only in St. Louis.

Thirsty for some hot chocolate?
 There was this kid whose parents made him dress like a penguin and a bill board peddling beverage screaming no figgy pudding for you till you sell the hot cocoa. 

      Ha kid we have our own hot chocolate--and it's spiked.

Next time you go grocery shopping you may want to consider this cart as an option.

As the balloons began to mimic in the rain and wind an episode of Sanford and Son, with an echo of Fred saying "it's the big one" as they were going down--we decided to bolt. 

I know you are thinking before Santa's appearance and the snow? 

But bolt we did! 

Got all cleaned up and looking good...  

where we went over the river and through the woods [and snow]--literally.

For this:    

Aaaahhhh the proverbial turkey shot.

Now that I have paid homage to the turkey. 

It's time to begin the next season:

Commencing with tuning the radio to constant Christmas tunes.

Horn of Plenty

Usually I spend the weekend and the weekdays prior to Thanksgiving stressed as I scribble and scratch my menu and grocery list. Shop and beat folks down the isles and around the turkey case, as the perfect bird is lifted to the cart.  I unearth special dishes and polish the tarish off the silverware.  I set the table.  Arrange the vases with a mix of Fall flowers.  I chop, mix, brine and bake.  The house fills with the aroma only Thanksgiving offers up--nutmeg, sage, thyme, rosemary....

Except this year.

This year King Ralph's cousin and his wife decided they wanted a turn at hosting the family feast.  Who was I to arrgue the offer.  As much as I am finding a measure of relief from the always welcomed stress that hosting can be--it seems I am beginning to miss that stress.  I love stretching the table from one end of the Great room to the other while collecting every dining chair I can rummage up in the house.  Filling the house with aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, gorging on a feast of foods and laughing through a night of games...aaaaahhhh horn of plenty.

Keeper's castle kitchen is silenced this year.  The oven is cool. Still my horn of plenty runneth over.  And. So. I present, the annual list of thanks. My list can be rearranged in order of listing with the exception of one and two.

1. God
2. Family
3. Dog
4. Friends
5. Laughter
6. Job
7. Medial insurance
8. Health
9. My new truck
10. fresh laundry
11. tears of joy
12. tears of pride
13. football games
14. marching bands
15. a good movie
16. sunny days on the playground
17. mountain hikes
18. campfires
19. classic rock music
20. a good pillow
21. bandwiches
22. parades
23. trivia nights
24. ice cream
25. Milky Ways
26. Flip Video camera
27.  a new razor to shave my legs
28. shampoo in my shower
29. toilet paper on the roller
30. TIVO and DVR
31. Glee
32. show choir
33. neighbors
34. new rental neighbors who mow the lawn
35. pumpkin pie
36. good books
37. Tostita Roasted Garlic and Black Bean chips
38. Rack-o
39. Yahtzee
40. clean sheets
41. ice water w/ a slice of lemon
42. Snuggle bamboo silk and blue iris fabric softner
43. my laptop
44. my camera
45. skin kissed by the sun
46. menstral cycle free months
47. hair color
48. Cardinal baseball
49. Project Runway
50. Prop L passing
51. Good doctors
52. teachers who teach with passion
53. motorcycle rides with the spousal unit
54. raked yard
55. drive-in movie gatherings
56. flip flops
57. good choices teenagers make
58. vacations in the camper
59. power naps

And the list goes on and on....

I hope your horn of plenty is as plentiful a harvest as mine.

Now if you don't mind I have a parade to get to, so I can burrrrrr freeze my turkey tail off watching.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!   

On The Eve of Thanks

I just worshipped with my daughters tonight...it was the best service at church in a long while.  We worshipped with two other churches of different denominations.  Such a presence of thankfulness in a shared God instead of division by chosen faith practice.  The sermon reminded us all "to be thankful for what is".  I am thankful!  So while I take the time to list the things big and small that offer and bring blessing a plenty--I leave you with this tune to inspire you as you make your list...or reflect upon.

A Family That Lives Together Works Together

Or is it that I should I title this entry as...

The unearthing of a mine field of dog crap. 

Or.

It's fun to watch D dry heave while carrying a sack of crap as big as Santa's satchel

Or.

Uli is a genius dog who was cultivating a fertilizer company.

Or.

The dog track is open--clear and free of leaves.

Or.

Whoever said child labor is wrong never had children of their own.

Or.

Or is it... Glad those new rental neighbors are better than the old ones and rake their leaves.


Or.


That girl can work a gas powered machine.

 I think we are going to stick with the original.  A FAMILY THAT LIVES TOGETHER WORKS TOGETHER and laughs while doing the evil chore of Fall--raking the yard.  

Coming To A Mailbox Near You

Me: Hey King Ralph, we snapped a few Christmas card photos today.  Wanna see?

KR: Sure.

Me: There's these, pretty girls....

KR: Oh I like.

Me: and these, silly girls. The girls want silly girls on the card.

KR: I don't like. 

Me: To bad dude! 

Really since when does the only man in the house get any say in how to create the Christmas cards--NEVER!  Now if he aggravated himself with years of moans from girls about how to fix hair and what to wear...if he ordered the cards, addressed and stamped the seventy-five cards, fought the post office parking lot to mail'em all...well, then, maybe.  But still, probably not. 

I toiled between which silly photo to use. 

This craziness was a close contender.

I thought folks might think that snarly beast in the middle, known as Princess A

riped D's hands off  leaving her with just wrists.  

I wonder if you can guess who in trio plays the jester at home?

In the end I decided to go with the original crazy shot.

Because gosh damnit I want to be real this year.

Showing off their beauty and brains.

Which shows the brains are a lil' crazed.

Here you have it: finished product. 

 The only thing that could have made the card even better is if the doghter

would have paused from her backyard lap race to join in the fun. 

 Oh well, maybe next year. 

Enough with Christmas...it's time to show a bit of respect to the turkey this week. 

HAIL TO THE TURKEY!  May he be pardoned only to my table [and plate] on Thursday. 

This Just Might End Up On The Christmas Card

Because aren't cards suppose to say-- hey friends this is how life in our house is? 

  Instead of presenting life with two teens and a twenty year old as all: calm and serene.

Truth is--I love life in photo number one.

It's never boring, that's for sure!

 I wouldn't have it any other way!!

Playground Talk, Now Let's Eat

One can hear the darndest things out on the playground.  Sometimes you don't even have to stretch an ear to hear, the kids come right up to tell you.  Today was no exception. 

Girl: Mrs. Avery my mom won't let me wear my Guiness shoes anymore.

Me: Really? Why?

Girl: 'Cause it's to cold out now.

Friend: What are Guiness shoes?

Girl: My beer flip flops.

Me: I don't really think you should be wearing beer shoes to the fourth grade anyway.

Girl: I thought they said "genius" when I bought them...I can't read.

That is when I thought but your mom can.

As long as we are talking beer here is a recipe I tried out tonight.  I got it from a high school classmate of mine. Everyone but one in the family liked it.  You know what  I say to that one...make yourself a dam PBJ then.  


Pork Chili

4 lbs picnic/shoulder roast
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1 red bell pepper, coarsely chopped
3 (15 ounce) cans black beans not drained
(16 ounce) jar salsa
2 cup chicken broth
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 can rotel with diced chilies
Juice of one lime
Chopped garlic, cilantro, crushed red pepper flakes and 2 beers *Budweiser's (use what you are comfortable with)
Frozen corn 2 cups? Whatever you want….

Dump it all in crock pot (except for corn and cilantro) cook 7 hours on low. Pull pork out, shred add it back add corn and cilantro cook 2 more hours. Serve over cilantro lime rice.

Rice is 2 cups long grain rice to 4 cups water. When rice is cooked add juice of one lime and a half cup of chopped cilantro. Mix.

Here's my finished product (crappy picture taken with my phone)

Question is...does mine look like Sally's?

Sure We Came In Fifth Place But We Laughed Till We Cried

$50 a couple for DECA trivia, that included dinner and an open bar
$10 worth of mulligans, which we clearly needed
$1 for "heads or tails" and being in the final four
$0 to play the scavenger hunt during trivia and our team being in the final two, losing to the guy who produced a grocery list from his wife's purse
$10 worth 50/50 raffle tickets, the team agreeing if one of us won we would split the winnings--we did!
My sister-in-law bidding on $300 worth of auction items under her husband's name without his knowledge and the look on his face when they kept calling his name--PRICELESS!

Flyers of Fall

All the hype I've been feeding that marching band had come to an end... I kept getting all farklempted that the end had come...liar, liar pants on fire.  The season continues.  I keep on dressing the color guard. Washing uniforms. Why?  Because of the boys of fall.  The boys keep winning and the band keeps on playing. The green and gold is a force to be reckoned with on the field.  Friday Nights Lights is hitting the road for another big game.   So boys this ones for you.



Good luck and stay warm.  I'll be cheering from the comfort of my house listening to the play by play on prepcast.  Boys if you win tonight I promise to support in person next week at Flyers Stadium--the home field.

Go Lindbergh!
  

Simply Titled--Veteran's Day

Something most everyone knows is that King Ralph is a police lieutenant.  Something most people don't know is that I keep one dirty white undershirt of his at all times.  I started this years and years ago when a rash of suburban police officers' lives were being taken in the line of duty.  In my young married years I was naive to the idea that King Ralph's life could ever be in much danger--the bullet proof vest was just a fashion accessory worn to induce sweat.  He works in a white-suburban-cookie-cutter-community, so what could ever go wrong. Right? Wrong!  Crime knows no boundaries.  Crime doesn't care if you live and work in the inner city or in an affluent community.  It was when officers in suburban communities were losing their lives to senseless crime that I wanted to be prepared in case the scent of my spouse would be stolen from me.  I want to be prepared to smell that musk like deodorant that clings to the cotton fibers that is, his, scent.  And. So. One dirty T-shirt at all times it is.

Monday night the school district put on the Annual Veteran's Day concert that supports the Backstopper's; an organization that assists families of fallen police, firefighters and EMS workers.  A troop of color guard girls clad in green velvet welcomed veterans and district residents.  An orchestra played.  The elementary school aged choir singing patriotic tunes in voices that sweetly struggle to increase volume and turn to slight shouts.  Innocent cuteness.  There was the high school acapella choir whose voices sounded like a symphony of angels--so beautiful words hardly describe.  There was the marching band who flooded the auditorium playing "God Bless America", followed by a medley of the armed forces theme songs.  With each branch's song that was played the veterans [and active duty] in the auditorium were asked to stand and be recognized, honored.  The Navy grabbed prize for the branch best represented.  Then I noticed, what we all do, I am sure, that there is an unspoken brotherhood among our WWII veterans.  As the band played Anchors Aweigh men in there eighties, strangers to one another turned, reaching rows apart to shake hands--a bond of brotherhood that only their hearts understand but we appreciate.  It leaves me asking why the Generation X'ers can't have that same kind of military brotherhood?  The evening ended remembering the men and women that the Backstopper's exists for as a police department's bagpipers played Amazing Grace.

Those names scrolling past remind me why I keep that single piece of dirty laundry.  In some ways I like to think as long as that t-shirt is there full of its musk scent-- life is safe.

Who knows there may be a wife whose spouse is serving our country right now who also has a fabric of clothing laced with a familiar scent.   What else is there say to that thought, except-- thank you, thank you for honoring our nation and protecting our freedoms.   

Heroes of different kind, yet both with the common goal to protect and serve, honored.                 

Tangled

Rapunzel ,Rapunzel let your hair down.

Last time I saw a Disney animated movie that totally captured my heart and left me in Disney love, was when Princess A was 20 months old. (Not saying I haven't seen some really good animated features since then, because I have.)   It was her first movie in a theater--Beauty and the Beast.  Princess A sat so entranced by every second of the movie it was hard to tell between the 20-month old and the adults in the theater.

Until tonight...

I scored some sneak peek tickets at work, compliments of Radio Disney, to see Disney's new movie Tangled.  It was Disney love all over again!  The theater was jam packed full of kids.  It has been a long time since I have sat amongst that many small people enjoying a movie.  Hearing the sweet sound of children's laughter sprung me back in time...remembering how M could always find humor in movies even when others couldn't.  Even with the infectious laughter of wee-ones, Tangled's humor isn't hard to find.  It is brimming with the perfect dose of slap stick.  Mandy Moore's voice is a captivating song bird leaving you to rush home to buy the Tangled CD.  Of course, like any good Disney animated movie there is the handsome hero Flynn Rider and the evil sinister Mother Gothel.  The message of believing in yourself, reaching for your dreams, never holding back or giving up is played out in the most perfectly beautiful way that the smallest of children and the children at heart can totally understand.  Disney magic at its best.  

If you want my suggestion for which dessert you should pick on Thanksgiving...I'm going to suggest a serving of Tangled--coming to theaters November 24.            

Pilgrim Pride

Flash back to Sunday. The TV was still brimming with commercials dedicated to costumed ghouls (and I don't mean politicians running for office tooting there own horn while they slaughter there opponent with forked tongue) eating Reese's peanut butter cups.  Then came November 1.  The commercials are (still chock-full of nasty politicians) bursting of elves creating magic and vision of sugar plums are being planted in children's heads and Overstock dot com sings parents into an Internet shopping trance.  Walgreen's has the holiday isle battling it out--one side is the fifty percent off Halloween leftovers while the other side is stacked with red and green candies, jingle bells, stuffed Santa's and reindeer.

Screeching halt here folks.

What about the turkey?

Does the turkey get no respect?

I mean it's the pilgrim who paved the way for this country to have a day of costumes and sugar overdose.  A day for the man in the red suit to stake claim to the month of December.  So tell me why can't the TV media pedal me Stove Top stuffing and Ocean Spray cranberries.  Campbell's whore the green bean casserole topped with French's french fried onions.  Why can't Butterball give me a dancing turkey table top or a pilgrim sailing on a Norelco razor?  Macy's saves Santa for the end of the parade-- they don't appoint him Grand Marshall making appearance at the lead off.

While the candidates for the Missouri senate polish their axes and daggers for a battle for blood-- known as 'the election"...I'm taking it to the mattresses for the turkey. I will demand Mr. Turkey rein supreme for just the first two weeks of November before I am choked with everything Christmas. I love Christmas, I do I do, its just....

So as soon as I return from my polling place my campaign for the turkey will be waged.       

I heart turkey.  I've got Pilgrim pride!

Be scared Christmas. Be scared.

******

Off my soap box, on a side note-- I just wanna say

Jodi has voted in the election

Monday's Reflections

While the kids are given the next two school days off to recover from their self induced sugar high from bite size candies--to which no signs of left overs are at this house...darn!  I am left with this Kodak moment to remember M, I mean Lady Gaga, on Hallows Eve hanging out at Hugh Hefner's bash.

The dog on the other hand is rather pleased its all over-- she can shed her shark costume.  Although Uli shouldn't get to use to not wearing it; A and M purchased her the fancy get-up and seem to enjoy torching her with the wear.  They have been entertaining themselves with the shark for a month now. Poor doggy!

While the kids plan to laze around (we'll see about that) I can be found outside tackling a yard full of leaves. Much to my chagrin.

One last thing...how did it get to be November already?  Not to panic anyone but there is only 53 days till Christmas...55 days till M and I leave to attend the Tournament of Roses Parade.    

Halloween 2010

(outside the haunted sounds of werewolves and ghosts loom around the front yard grave yard)

Post chili and Nathan's hot dogs; I sit here sipping my Halloween appletini, waiting anxiously for the next trick-r-treater to come score my soda pop and cheese popcorn...

(hold on the door bell is ringing)

(Mrs. Potato Head greets the ghouls and goblins)

I say it every year, I'll say it again, what is wrong with kids?!  I know they tell jokes, but when I open the door can't they say "trick-r-treat".  Instead they stand there staring at me wondering why the heck I am not just tossing them the goods. I'm having to invite, some even beg for the joke--what's a vampires favorite dog? A blood hound (sorry kid I can't be stumped).  Even in the world of begging kids have lost their skill, there manners.

Princess A, King Ralph and I are reminiscing about Halloweens past. M aka Lady Gaga and D, no costume party girl, are at parties.  Parties happen on a Sunday October 31, when school is off for the next two days. 

I was nine years old--back in the days when the neighborhood streets where crowded and costumes were created from whatever you could put together from the closest--when I got to a house with ghoulish music coming from behind the door of the house that was lit with black lights.  The home owner opened the door and invited us kids in to the living room that had been emptied of all its contents.  All that was in there was a casket with a man lying "dead" still inside. I remember trembling with fear.  I still am not a fan of haunted houses--why the heck would anyone purposely want to be scared...and pay big bucks for the fright?!  The woman took my hand, lead me to the casket where the living dead man slowly raised from the casket and handed me a piece of candy, never uttering a word.  CREEPY!  The memory is still haunting all these years later.  As an adult and homeowner all I can think about is the work and effort that had to go into clearing a living room for one night.  No thank you.   

King Ralph recalls dressing like a girl and being asked what he was.  He had to explain he was a boy dressed as a girl.  I am not sure if that is good or bad?

Princess A likes remembering all the wonderful hand made costumes King Ralph's aunt and I constructed together each year.  She was always so adorable.  Now she constructs her own.  She also remembers the post Halloween candy rule: three pieces a day for two weeks then all sweet treats...poof, disappeared.  It didn't matter if they picked three full size candy bars or three mini Tootsie rolls--three was the magic number.  Believe me they picked carefully and wisely. When the girls got older and "wiser" they learned the art of sneaking.  Three turned into six.     

Well it's nine o'clock, I turned the ghoulish background music off after a total of fifteen goblins this year.  I got a "cool treat" from one kid, so I know I did good with my usual choice.  Still fifteen kiddos seems mighty lame for Halloween. 

Boy-oh-boy I miss how Halloween was when I was a kid!    
       

Glinda Wears Chucks

I'll be heading to the store soon to pick up a few cases of Vess orange and lemon-lime soda--my Halloween trick-r-treat give away.  I'll also be brushing up on current dumb jokes so I am not so stumped when kids start trading the tricks for my treat.  In St. Louis you just don't ring the doorbell, scream trick-r-treat, hold out the candy bag and collect the loot. Nope in St. Louis folks like to make the kids work for the treat...we want tricks!  Jokes count as a trick. Actually it may be the only trick because I haven't seen any kids preforming magic or circus feats on my front porch.  There isn't much risk of liability is a dumb joke.

While the kids in the neighborhood are at home trying to devise plans to stump ole' Keeper, I spent yesterday having a bit of Halloween fun myself.  Every year the office gets a themed makeover.  Like elves in the night we all contribute what time we have available in our after work schedules to help make the transformation happen.  Some more than others, some not none at all.  Two of our gals worked transforming to the late hours.  It is always fun the next day to see the children's faces as they gaze in amazement at our creativity as they parade through.

We've had some great themes in the past.  My favorite was 2007.  It's just fun being an adult with permission to have kid fun. This marks the end of a long rein of Halloween office fun.  The elementary school will be making a transformation of its own, to a middle school next school year--the curtain comes down.  

And. So. I present, for the final time, the office: Halloween style.

Welcome to Oz.

   
By the time the day was over Glinda the Good Witch of the North was glad she wore her yellow polka dot Chucks... 

before making a quick thirty minute transformation into regular mom honoring the Seniors; my girlie at Senior Night.  Regular Mom wears black boots and a nanook.

Now it's time to carve the pumpkin, dig out the spooky mood music and place the tomb stones in the yard...

Happy Halloween!

An Unlikely Mascot

Back in the early Fall of 2007 Princess A and her friends were working one of the band's bi-annual flea markets when they came across the find of the century: black Santa--a three-foot-tall-use-to-light-up-plastic-holiday-decoration.

After being drug across the high school campus to the music building black Santa took a place of honor in practice room one peering out the room's glass window.  A practice room that seemed already to be on the road to storage closest and less looking of a practice room.  As the kids went around talking about and showing off black Santa their fearless leader (aka the band director) told them to get rid of black Santa they couldn't have him, it was wrong. What was wrong, having him in practice room one or having him in the band building at all?  I remember having a conversation with Princess A about what is wrong with black Santa, whoever said Santa is white.  The Santa at our house is white, sure cause I am white, but the Santa say at Bill Cosby's house is most certainly black.  So what the heck was wrong with black Santa.  That's when the band kids of the Class of 2008 devised a plan that would turn ole' black Santa into a traditional part of marching band.  First they named him Juan and then they autographed him.  That was only after moving him to the back corner by the piano.  Juan the black Santa with a Hispanic driven name now spends most of the year standing patiently in that corner waiting for the end of marching season to come along when he can get some love via a Sharpie.

The tradition continues.

Last Friday at the last regular season zero hour (did you catch that regular season zero hour, uhg there are more to come renamed Tournament of Roses zero hour) the kids of the Class of 2011 put their John Hancock on good ole' Saint Nick. 

Before I know it will be Friday Night Lights time. I will be bundled up in my Nanook, freezing my tush on the metal bleachers, cheering the Flyers to a possible win while being so cold that I see visions of black Santa selling me hot chocolate as he circles the field in his sleigh.  Mother Nature spoiled us this football season and cursde the end of the season with a burst of artic cold.  

Football and cold weather.  I suppose a tradition that I was hoping to avoid!         

Thursday

While I stood in the shower this morning wondering what professional clothing options I had clean; a moment of consciousness came to me...it is blue jeans for Haiti day.  Yippee!  I love blue jean day, even when it cost a dollar to wear'em.   

Then I let the dog out and burrrrrr I realized my blue jeans couldn't be paired with a cute pair of sandals or my toes would go numb. Closed toe shoe season is upon me. UHG!!

It is a game of good and evil in the fashion world of work today. Sigh.

Just When I Could Have Used the Octopus' Talent

While driving down Road Kill Avenue yesterday morning M and I heard some sad news on the radio; Paul the psychic octopus died. Paul lived 2.5 years, the expected life of an octopus.  Being a psychic octopus must have been stressful, cramming in all those predictions in such a short lifespan...and just when I could have used his psychic abilities.


What would I have asked ole' Paul?  If the darn school counselor will ever take care of something simple I requested so I don't have to get nasty.

Excuse me while I dress in my Halloween witch costume, light the seance candle and try to channel Paul for a prediction. Is this the way to shake an octopus from his grave?      

(Honestly, when I heard this on the radio I was more like--WHO THE HELL IS PAUL THE PSYCHIC OCTOPUS?!).

Everything M

Bet there are folks who are thinking, does Keeper have any other kids besides M.  I know, I know my posts these days seem to be focused on M, but that is only because this is her year. Princess A had her blog post year to hog type...that comes with being a high school senior.  D's is coming.

I forgot to take the time to toot President M's horn about her (and the DECA gal pals) first place finish in the mock competitions at the DECA Leadership Convention last week.  I believe the text I received with a photo of the first place medal said "another win for Madison".  Followed by her creative Facebook status that said "Respeca the DECA".  I love it when kids find their passions, find something that connects them to their school, giving them ownership and pride.  DECA is one of those things for M.   If I don't say so myself, a medal is a nice accessories to the business dress.

(aren't these girls all gorgeous?!)

So are you wondering what did M and I did today?  We made a college visit.  By way of road kill avenue.  At least that is what we renamed Highway 44.  There is a certain love that fills when being forced to add to the mutilation of a ground up deer carcass.  Uck!  About 50 carcasses later we made our way to the campus of Missouri State University.  It was perfect weather for a campus stroll.  Our best find was as soon as we stepped foot on the campus... who did who spot, who turned his bike around to chat with us...the one and only (short lived) boyfriend M had.  As he rode off I looked at M and said "I really did like him, I just never trusted him."  Then we laughed.  After the tour we made an impromptu visit to an old color guard friend.  Unplanned is the best way to see how college kids really live in those dorm rooms, eeek! What a mess!  I almost wanted to kick in my mom gene and clean that darn suite.  By the time we got in the car to head home it was decided this university has made its way to the top of the list...we have the Bear wear from the bookstore to prove it. 

Still the Senior Night info card portion of future plans will still read: undecided.

My info card will read: getting poorer!                

SWEET SIXTEEN

Sixteen years ago I stood in line at Target purchasing necessaries for a preschool Halloween party...when ouch I went into labor...a wee bit early.

After the Target checker had her moment of freak that a woman in labor with two small children in tow was in her check-out line; I made it home.  Back in the day of pre-cell phones I paged King Ralph, who then called his mom, who then made it home just in time for me to walk in the doors of the hospital to deliver a sweet five pound plus girlie who was then whisked away by ambulance to the NICU at Children's Hospital.

There you have it in a nut shell how D's life began.  She left me in a panic of difficulty from her start through her toddler years.  Calming about the time Kindergarten came calling.

Once a little tomboy who loved Hot Wheels to Barbies and mud pies to lip gloss.  Who wore the plastic wheels of her Big Wheel burning rubber on the sidewalk...hating anything that had a feminine flare. D has blossomed into a beautiful young lady with polished toe nails and bouncy natural curls molded with product.  All the things that until recently she turned her nose to.

She's smart and talented.  At times aggravating and lazy.  Through all the adjectives I grow more in love with my unplanned baby girl--our gift from above.

She is she.  Never being persuaded to be anything but herself.

And.

So.

We celebrate.

Keep skipping happily through life seeing what is ahead waiting for you (maybe a driver's permit).

Happy Sweet 16 Demi Anne!       

Nearing The End of an Era

For seven years King Ralph and I have sat quiet on the bleachers--sweating and freezing--watching marching band field shows at half time and at competitions. It started with Princess A tooting her flute out there on the field.  Trying to keep our eyes on Princess A in a mass of nearly 200 like looking friends, as if we were playing the shell game on the jumbo tron at the ball park, had its challenge.  Then came M. She joined the club spinning her flags, saber and rifle-- which was so much easier to keep the proud eyes on.

Last night the era of competitions came to its end.  The final competition in which I can take claim to having a kid of my own out there doing it for the team.  I was a bit ferklempted...okay a lot ferklempted.  I was never emotional when Princess A performed her final competition, maybe because I knew it wasn't "the end."  But my M, she drew out from me emotions that I must have been tucking away.  Saving for the end?  Whatever the reason my eyeballs floated in a well of water.  Especially when the rose swing flags separate.

Corny?  Parental pride?  Whatever you call it, call it from the heart.

I present to you for your viewing pleasure a third place finish, with a score of 82.45 at Greater St. Louis Marching Band Festival. The competition was incredible in the Gold Division, third place is taken with pride. The kids had a couple of phasing issues and a dynamic problem in the second tune...there was that one flag drop, but they all brought their game and rocked the house. Heck we are proud!

Thanks Princess A, thanks M for finding where you fit in at your high school, your nitch, giving us something to take up our time on the Fall weekends for the last seven years and watching you shine.


(side note: King Ralph may be issued a VIP (video in possession) for this recording.  So consider yourself watching a top secret video. hehehe)

The Week End

It feels like yesterday I woke up and it was Monday.  How did we get to Friday so fast?  However it is that we got to this point so fast-- I am glad!

The week offered me a chance to get a few things off my chest.  I am, of late, pretty good at biting my tongue.  The older I grow the less I feel like being bothered with airing feelings...sometimes it seems like a waste of energy.  Especially when it is something you know that when it ends you never have to visit again.  But when someone invites the dialogue...how could I refuse!  It was handled calmly and professionally.  Dare I say I felt liberated?  I felt liberated.           

Saturday I will wake to canvass for Prop L.  I am doing it because it is the right thing to do: for the students and for our jobs.  Then I will bun hair for nearly the last time in marching band history as M performs the field show in her final competition.  I think I will have tears in my eyes.  I WILL have tears in my eyes.  For some reason this year I am a band field show crier. 

I look forward to the end of zero hour being a part of this family.  How could anyone not want to celebrate the elimination of packing school lunch at 5am?  The only thing greater than an hour more sleep in the morning would be winning the lottery.  And, one has to purchase a ticket to win the lottery, so extra sleep is a grand scale win for me.

Monday...don't come looking for us till after 6am.  This house is sleeping in!

*****

Best thing I heard on the playground this week: a second grade boy playing soccer (as he cupped his hands over his zone) "protect the jewels guys."

Worst thing I heard at work this week: there is still lice. UGH! 

Best TV this week: Project Runway Finale Part 1.  I have fallen in love with Mondo.  I didn't think I would, but I did!  I did not fall in love with Gretchen.  I didn't think I would, and I didn't! 
Worst TV: Sister Wives.  I am still trying to figure out why Princess A feels compelled to TIVO a show about a man who is so full of himself that he thinks he should have four wives?  Or that I entertained the idea of even watching the bizarre show for ten minutes.  Twisted TV!  

             

You Just Stay In Bed

Hey you all, don't bother getting up when the alarm goes off.  You just keep on sleeping.  I wouldn't dare want to ask any of you to wake with M and I--really 430am is absurd in itself...for marching band no less.

Family in case you are wondering why your laundery isn't folded in your drawers and there isn't a four course meal on the table tonight, it's because I am dragging my weary bones to the bed after a long day of competition.

Don't make finals I'll see you bed at 6pm.  Make finals I'll see you bed at midnight.

I'm toren.

Making finals would be nice.

I suppose a nap on a school bus is a possible thing.  It may turn out to be the method to survival...if the kids make BOA finals. 

Only time will tell.  

What Does Your Refrigerator Say About You

Ever stand and stare at your refrigerator and wonder what it says about you?  I stood looking at mine often this week, occasionally picking up a heavy magnet clip that fell to the ground loaded with important kid information and realized...my refrigerator says a lot.  It says where have we been and where are we going.  It says you did a good job and we are proud of you. It says adventures.  It says I love Jesus.  It says friends.  It says helping someone to learn. Let's bake. Let's watch hockey tonight. Most of all it says I love my family.  We love each other! 

What does your refrigerator say?

Call Me Dr. Dolittle

Me: Uli your home! Where were you?

Uli: I was tired of running laps in the yard all day.  It's no fun when you can't invite the kids from the neighborhood over to race.

Me: You mean the other dogs? 

Uli: Whatever.

Me: So where'd you go?

Uli: Well when King Ralph, as you call him, left the front door open I decided I would sneek out to take a run and live on the wild side.  I came across a nice yard where I made a couple of new friends, pugs named Zues and Braxton.  They invited me to spend the night on the back porch with them.  I couldn't refuse.

Me: Did you have fun?

Uli: Sure we played nice together.  But you know they're boys and they started to not respect my female boundaries.  I suppose my freshly styled hair and my Halloween scarf really turned them on...I can't talk about it anymore it is to disturbing to relive.

Me: Uli, all male species like to get a little frisky with the ladies from time to time.  But why didn't you phone home?  We were worried sick.

Uli: I wanted too, but my tags fell off and I couldn't remember our phone number.  My new friends mom made a great breakfast and took me for a long walk on the leash.  She was really nice.  Sorry to worry you all.

Me: Your tags were there last week! Oh well you are home safe and sound.  I am also glad your new friends were fine hosts. I think D is going to make them an apple pie as a thank you for keeping you safe when you decided to run wild.  NO more leaving the house without permission!  You hear?!!

Uli: Ya.  Really there is no place like home.

Me: So true!   

Uli Phone Home

It all started when King Ralph walked out the front door, leaving it ajar, to look at the minor damage that M's co-worker/band mate's mom caused to her car.  King Ralph had M's car yesterday, I switched car's with him after work so M could have her car to drive to evening band practice.  As I stopped so she could cross the lane to hop in the car, co-worker's mom waited for her to cross and then proceeded to back into the car.  Never met co-worker's mom...but I have now. 

Like I said it all started when King Ralph walked outside at 8pm to survey the damage.

9pm D went looking for her beloved pooch only to find she was no where to be found.  Just like Toto she loves to run.  Given the opportunityty to run wild and free she'll take it!  We all hopped in cars to canvass the area.  M & D calling out Uli's name came upon two boys playing basketball in their driveway who alerted them a woman was walking with our doggy on a leash looking for the owner and said she told them she would send the little black dog to a shelter.  Uli has tags, a tag with her phone number stamped on a heart.  Why not call us?  We rushed home called the local police who directed us to the animal control division-- no luck. 

So we said our prayers last night that Uli finds her way back to us today. 

In the words of ET--ULI PHONE HOME!     

Festive Weekend

Update:  Big toe toenail was not recovered nor found on the sole of that Kindergartner with the heavy foot.  Guess I just have to accept I have a janky looking toe nail.  And. I recovered from that Thursday unexplained night of insomnia.  Cure.  A medium sized caramel frappe from Wired Coffee at 345pm.  There was no way I was going to make it all Friday night without a caffeine boast.  

The week...it was all about Homecoming! The proverbial spirit week had M all in form while D, full of Flyer spirit left the house each day looking like her regular self. M on the other hand was all into.  She did the "Twin Day" with her look alike Marketing teacher, dressed for "Circus Day" as a hippo (are there hippos at a circus?), wore her PJ's on jammie day....

There was Thursday's parade; a senior girl in a convertible and leading the "March of Champions".  Where my sophomore was bouncing around remains a mystery.  All that led to a bon fire.  A fire so big and so hot I am shocked my head is not a skeleton cause I swear my skin was melting off from the intense heat it gave off.

Friday's pre-game band dinner with their eighth grade band guests (selling the product),  football game, halftime show (with the show flags that finally arrived)

  before M made a white spandex mad dash to the other side of the field for a promenade/presentation of a court.


 
Then we slumbered.  Sleeping is a beautiful thing!
 
Only to wake to a crazed day of beauty shop and curling irons. Nail polishes and eye shadows. Sequence and satin. And Friends. Lots of friends.

Sisters.

Sophomores.

Seniors.

Then King Ralph and I crashed the dance; as invited guests. To see this...Homecoming Court.

It is a great day when the kids on the court aren't just the athletes or "popular" kids.  This is a representation of nice kids.  Kids that are liked for who the are: lots of band kids, theater kids, student council kids, smart kids....

M wasn't queen, not even a princess, but she had a great attitude going into this and when it was over she had the same great attitude...just happy her peers liked her enough to put her up there on that stage.   I might be partial but I sure think she had the prettiest dress up there on that stage.

Now it's back to regular weekly scheduled activites.  

BLOG HOLD

This blog is being temporarily interrupted due to:
1. My big toe toenail that resides on the bottom of a Kindergartener's shoe
2. The need to stare at Uli's new doggy do (b/c she wanted to look great for homecoming too)
3.. A severe case of insomnia last night, and I mean severe...last clock read was 3:43am
4. Homecoming weekend--last night's parade/bon fire, tonight's pregame dinner for the band/football game, Saturday's dance
5. Chili Day @work...need time to locate the Beano, or it could get ugly in the school today

Check up on me Sunday and see if I am kicking around again.

Until then...Happy Fall weekend friends!

Wednesday's Oxymoron

I just flipped on the morning news. In one breath they inform me it's National Walk to School Day--promoting physical health.  In the next breath they give me the school bus stop weather report.

Come on now Channel 5!  Do I walk or ride the bus?

Oxymoron.

I figure if I leave the house at 8am I should be to work on time.

But, who's gonna pick me up at 330pm...it is only walk TO school day, not walk home from school day?

So What If My Shoes Hurt My Feet

Yesterday I rummaged through my closest for the proper shoes, shoes to match my black pants and white blouse.  I went with black boots because one, it was cold out and two, the heel height was perfect for my always-to-long-pants.  The curse of being five foot four and one-fourth inches tall.

When I walked in the office it felt like a furnace.  Uhg. You want to complain but you don't realizing the right to complain about the hotness in a building is hardly worthy for the day.  The outside temperature was perfect for my long sleeve blouse.  It felt liberating.  As the day rolled on my feet were fighting the notion of being trapped.  My ten toes wanted to twinkle like Fred Flinstone as he foot peddled his car--free and breathing.  Instead my pinkie toe on my right foot was crying I want to go wee-wee-wee all the way home.  When my day was finished the BWFs and I loaded in the truck and drove to the funeral home.  The reason for the black pants, white blouse and black boots.  When the three of us entered through the doors the pain of rubbing leather on my little toe seemed to vanish; vanish with the notion that my temporary pain was nothing compared to the pain of my co-worker's forever broken heart.  Her family's broken hearts.  Laying to rest a son, a grandson , a brother....

As a staff we constructed a beautiful wreath of small hands in colorful papers.  Each of us in the building wrote words from our hearts of condolence to our friend and co-worker.  I started my message with the words of Psalm 34:18  The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

I have now sadly watched three friends bury their children.  In no way the natural evolution of life.  It, at no time, has been an easy witness.  As parents we are not to bury our children.  Each of my friend's children left this earth to early, all taken by different cause.  Each mother and father however with the same cry.  Although the cry is different in sound to the ear, the pain of cry is all the same.  Heartwrenching!  A pain I can hardly fathom.

Once I was alone in the truck the boots were unzipped tossed to the side, the pain of the pinch by shoes not welcomed on my feet eased.  The guilt sets in.  The comprehension that my pain had an easy, quick fix can do that.

So next time you put on a pair of shoes that cramp and feel like a confinement...look at your children.  Then thank God that you can stretch your arms out and pull them in close to love them, to kiss them, to hug them, to talk with them, even yell at them.  Realizing never to take their presence in your life for granted.           

Yep, It's Fall

It's Fall.  I know this because the thermometer read 44* when I woke at 430am.  I don't think I am ready for layers of clothes and shoes that hide my toes.  No, please, don't let it be!

Although we had a change in calendar this weekend that caused an elimination of something really fun I thought we'd doing Friday night...it was okay to just sit back and chillax. 

It was a three day weekend for us so the house was bustling with girls galore on Thursday.  The color guard came over to tye-dye their section shirts, eat pizza and ice creams, roast marshmallows and enjoy a backyard fire.  When the color guard cleared house D and her possy took over the fire.  Girls, girls, girls.

Friday was M getting her senior pictures taken. While D and King Ralph went apple picking.  Princess A worked before scurrying off to SEMO for String Day...I think the saying was "we love live birth."  String Day, the day the sorority girls take a "daughter."  Even though Princess A is no longer at SEMO she still loves the AXO sisters. Evident as her dear friend arrived at our house and they hugged, smiled and loaded in the car.  They made me smile.         

Saturday we shopped for D's homecoming dress and took M's to the tailor for a nick and tuck. Then M celebrated friends' 18th birthdays at the apple orchard, D baby-sat and King Ralph and I sat in the leather recliners with nothing to say to each other...we just soaked the calm and silence of a teenagerless house for the evening while starring at the TV.  I liked it.  A weekend of no band. No football games. No competitions.  

Sunday I cooked a meal of comfort foods for a Fall day.  King Ralph and D made the dessert--apple pie, crust from scratch, filling from the apples they picked.  Once we filled our bellies with beef roast, carrots, corn, smashed potatoes smothered in gravy...warm apple pie ala' mode was a perfect Fall finale. 

This week, homecoming week, brings a calendar of obligations that stretch the entire week.  The clock hands will tap M awake early and bring her home late.  The one week I think I may say I HATE marching band. 

Well I suppose I should go dig through the mound of shoes at the bottom of my closest to find closed toe shoes.  UHG!