Happy Halloween!

Well, as this is the first year I wasn’t rushing home from the office to deal with getting ready- I must say it was far more pleasant..

Pumpkin disemboweled- check..

Costumes ready- check

Chili and cornbread done- check.

I have no idea why chili and cornbread became the traditional meal for Halloween- probably because I could throw it in the crock pot at 5AM and get home to get them fed, dressed and out the door prior to the sugar high.

The Hurricane is a nasty bloody ghoul –he’s going through that 10 year old boy gross stage. Miss Thing is The Pirate Queen. No wench action or such here- as she put it “I’m the bitch in charge”.. I can live with that.

Me I’m the Mom in the car waiting to get home so she can sit down and have a nice glass of wine..

Y’all have a fun an spooky evening!!!!!

My manifesto-

Cowbell got me to thinking.. She usually does.

So, I stopped to take a little time to examine a few things. Now y’all know (OK- the two of you that read my drivel) that I was indeed raised south of the Mason-Dixon line. My upbringing was full of mixed messages. Sit up straight, act like a lady, you are NOT wearing that Missy! And then there was the “you can do anything you set your mind to” message. And people wonder why I bailed on my Coming Out.. In fairness, the parents did the best they could. The world was changing awfully fast at the time, and to their credit they did try to go with their natural inclinations. But there was an awful lot of ingrained dogma they had to try and let go of.

My Mamma was a tiny little thing, and pretty as a picture, was a state skeet shoot champ and played basketball throughout high school and college. A lot of people never got her. Queen of the Valentine Court one day and practicing her free throws, or toting a gun the next. This was not exactly accepted practice at the time. Daddy was the musician that loved to cook.. go figure..

I stated I have tried to raise my children “gender neutral”.. actually it was more “do what ever makes you happy”. My aim was to give them the option to do whatever their natural inclinations led them to. Seems to have worked out thus far. But I grant you I have beat some old fashioned notions like manners into their heads.

Then I got to thinking about my own particular brand of feminism. Frankly I’m sick and damn tired of the “mommy wars” and the party line. In the seventies when I was reading Gloria and Betty I pretty much got the idea that the entire point was that we were supposed to have choices- finally. I have spent my “mom years” thus far working full time, up until a few months ago. I see both sides of the fence. There are people that downgrade the domestic arts- they’re asshats. There are people that downgrade the working moms- they’re asshats too. It’s all about choice, and often about necessity. Worry about your own life and leave everyone else alone already!

Does the fact that I tend to be a “girly girl”- yes I love my shoes, I am addicted to red lipstick, and love to get dressed up, and I frankly completely enjoy being female- make me a traitor? I think not. And I actually like men, life without them would suck.. I can also do minor electrical work, hang drywall, do general plumbing and I have my own power tools. Which side of the fence does that put me on sisters? I like the work I do, and I'm damn good at it and the fact that I do it "virtually" and not in an actual office doesn't make it any less valuable. I also really like a tidy house and a good meal served at a decent hour..


Should we not be supporting one another?

Such a lovely lunch-

It was a most excellent lunch. And a very happy day. And also a very sad one..

A brilliant meal- beautiful steak and stilton salad, excellent wine pairing as well. Happy chat, big hugs all around. Retired to the back sitting room (we're semi family, as the chef/owners of the favorite place are dear friends) and then started the talking in earnest. I so very much miss ole' Buddyboy. Once in a blue moon, you find that kindred soul that everything just works with.. That's me and the big guy. Many people never got it (ah-screw them, whatever) a rare few did.. The accusations that we'd been separated at birth might not have been that far off. To those of you that refuse to understand that a straight guy and a woman can really be the best of friends, you're morons..

Now I admit the whole having the best job in the universe thing was excellent, no doubt about it. But I'd give damn near anything just to have my best buddy back nearby. You know that one person that always gets you, and requires no explanation, finishes your sentences and always knows what's lurking in your heart- even if you might not have figured it out yet yourself.. Yeah, that's my boy.

So, once upon a time I promised the explanation of the moniker.. I'm a big fan of Robert A. Heinlein. "Time Enough for Love" being a personal favorite. Boss used to joke that I was his Dora- the machine incarnation.. If you haven't read it, it's way too much to explain you'll just have to read the damn book- sorry.. But for those of you that have- he found his Maureen ;) And I was so, so happy for them both! I planned the damn wedding people.. And lucky for us that she always understood our relationship. An amazing woman, he’s a lucky SOB to have her.

So, we stood at the back door and just both tried not to totally break down- just hung on to each other and watched it rain for quite a while. Got the best hug I’ve ever had- and cried all the way home. Not necessarily in a bad way, both happy and sad. Happy for the time together, as always- but sad to miss the just hanging out time together.. I just want my Buddyboy back.

Yes, I really am jut selfish like that.. But it is still good to know that no matter what, my Buddyboy will always be there, no matter how far away he might wander.

I bow to peer pressure..

Actually I think you guys thought I was telling stories.

Yep- purchased in 1979 at some freaky store in the Village, and yes I am pretty sure I was high on something at the time.

I hope you're all happy now? Yes- you Miss Hat.. And Tater Bug- check yer inbox and try not to die laughing!


But the spiked hair really did Pat Benatar it right on outta there.. And yes, I do totally suck at that whole tripod and timer thing, hey photography is just not my thing people.


Gee, I really need to finish getting that damn trim up in that room, huh?

I'm so lazy

I declared today a mental health day. And instead of feeling guilty about the mile long list ‘o crap that needs doing, I’ve allowed myself to realize it flat out ain’t going anywhere. It may be a bad attitude, but it’s the one I’ve currently got- so there.

Woke up to a dreary, rainy day again. YAY! I swear it’s been so dry I actually heard the woods collectively sign in relief when the rain finally set in the other day. It’s cooled off quite a bit, compared to the 85 degrees just a few days ago, so it’s a soup cooking kind of day. So there’s a nice big pot of steak and mushroom soup simmering. I got the jones for Rosemary Olive bread, so there are a couple of loaves rising. Cool, got dinner covered at least.

I am a little put out that the Thursday rerun of Tim Gunn got preempted for that dumb Housewives of OC show.. that would have indeed been the icing on my little lazy cake.

Humm.. messed around with my MacGourmet files and cleaned out some of the clutter there. Tater Bug- if you don’t have it, you gotta get it!

Moving right along- Boss is coming for a little visit tomorrow! it’s been a long while between visits and I really miss the big lug. While we talk and email, and still tend to finish one another’s sentences and all, I just miss hanging out with him. When someone you’re that close to up and moves, I think the hole in your heart never really goes away. But I’m focusing on the happy happy joy joy of seeing my dear friend bit right now- not the damn you why did you have to up and move part. Lunch at our favorite restaurant is going to be about it, as he’s got other commitments- but it’s awfully dear of him to truck all he way out here from NOVA just for lunch with little ole me.

Took the request for photographic evidence that my ass can still get into a dress I purchased in 1979 under advisement- we’ll see. Much like Cowbell and her preference that the ex not show up on her virtual doorstep, my very public private diary is sort of my place to decompress. Not sure I want my friends and family there in truth. It sometimes feel like 98% of my life consists of dealing with other people’s shit (I know, I know- Duh.. you have kids) it’s the one little space that’s all mine, all the time and I don’t have to concern myself with anything other that what I choose to.


But for the moment I’m going to pour a nice glass of wine and go park my butt in the Jacuzzi before the heathens come charging in. Y’all have a lovely afternoon!

So, how have y'all been?

My it’s been a busy few weeks here at Casa de Locos..

The usual mayhem. The ongoing fight with the school board- more on that later.. The never freaking ending renovations- which somehow seem to have landed all in my lap. Baby Sister took a vacation (finally- YAY!) Which meant me taking care of Daddy. And just stuff.

For my loyal readers, both of you- all is well, thanks for emailing. Let’s see.. renovations. As the job hunt accelerated (46 year old mothers of two with experience smell bad or cost too much I’m not sure which) I realize I best get all the odds and ends finished. Damn, that’s a LOT of odds and ends people. I spent the entire damn summer working on this stuff and there’s still a mile long list.

The getting whatever cash I can via the Virtual Assistant route.. well it is money, I just seem to always land the problem children.. I really need to set my rates higher. Have to check with the Hat and get the website thing cranking on a higher level I guess.

Homecoming- girlie drama and shoe trauma, need I say more?

Humm, let’s see.. the annual Dora cuts loose weekend.. The Beast and I do a big Halloween Costume Ball every year and that tends to be the one weekend my reformed solid citizen self gets her freak on.. Yeah, I go for the costume thing big time. And no, I can’t do out of the box, I have to go crazy.. My personal past favorite was the Trinity costume- hey I was hitting the gym big time then and it looked pretty damn good. I was lost for inspiration this year and happened to be doing a closet clean out when I ran across a black leather dress I bought in 1979 (yes you read that right) and said “Pat Benatar!!” Hey what else would a 5’5” chick with really short black hair do with a black leather dress from the late seventies I ask? Lorraine, you’d have totally loved it! Everyone in the house over 35 got it right away.

So, went forth and had big fun- Sunday brunch did require a Bloody Mary, I must confess. Get home and get everyone together and make with the quiet Sunday- which I really needed. I don’t do that party thing much these days, I’m old it takes me time to recover..

Wake up Monday morning at the usual 6:30- look out the kitchen window and see something white strewn about the right side of the yard. Humm.. well still a bit too dark out, and my ass isn’t traipsing down there during bear breakfast time to investigate. Get the kiddos to school and come back to take a look see. Well, the Hurricane had an archery target stashed under his fort and one (or more) of our teenage boy bears decided it would make a fun toy. A 3x3x1 block of solid Styrofoam mauled by a bear over a three acre perimeter makes one hell of a mess.. Ya can’t rake it and picking it up by hand is a bitch, and a leaf blower just tosses it into the woods and I fear for birds and other small critters ingesting it. Let’s just say it took all damn day and my back hurts like hell.


So, how was your weekend?

Come on out-

For all you lovely people on the left coast and in the middle of the country, on 10/27 you have a chance to let the Shrub know you've had enough!

Be there or be square folks.. Who knows, some news media might actually show up this time!

I'm supposed to trust SYSCO to feed them?

In respect to the revolting state of affairs in school lunches-

Congress is currently considering national legislation to improve the nutritional quality of foods and beverages in schools. Please sign the petition below to ask your members of Congress to take junk food out of schools by requiring the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) to update its nutrition standards for foods and beverages offered from vending machines, a la carte in the cafeteria, and in school stores on the whole campus throughout the school day.

USDA’s current school nutrition standards were developed in the 1970’s and are no longer consistent with nutrition science or current concerns regarding children’s nutrition. For example, USDA does not consider candy bars, snack cakes or French fries to be junk foods in schools.

Let's help feed them not only something better, but keep big business from mandating what goes on in our local lunch rooms! My kids pack for a reason, but for some kids this may well be the only thing close to a complete meal they might get in a day.

Now y'all take a minute to go educate yourselves now, and sign the petition while you're in the neighborhood!

No Child Left Behind??

my ass..

Misguided piece of politics, bad legislation plain and simple. Medicare D and HIPPA ring any bells folks? Another half assed delivery on an election promise. And another that hemorrhaged billions of dollars and ultimately merely ended up making things worse, far worse. I don’t know a single teacher- mainstream, special ED, ESL, any of them that think this is a good piece of legislation. I know parents of special needs kids that literally hiss when they hear those four words..

Why, might you ask do I have such a case of the ass about this? My kids got screwed- once again. Essentially we are dumbing down our best and brightest. Plain and simple.

Unless you happen to live in a county or city with excellent recourses – magnet and charter schools and such, or happen to have the bucks to send your kids to private school- you’re screwed if they’re smart and you actually work for a living.

Ok, your Mom is supposed to brag, right? Whatever, my blog, my life I’m allowed. My kids happen to have been lucky enough to get their Dad’s intelligence. We’re talking border line genius level I.Q here folks. Both have always read at least 5 grade levels ahead (no that was not a misprint peeps) Math- they both scare the crap out of me.. Miss Thing took the SAT at 12 to qualify for the Johns Hopkins Center for Talented Youth Program- her scores freaked us both out.. Would you not think that the school system would be happy to help foster the academic careers of bright kids? Not so much.. Too damn busy worrying about getting accredited and making sure the state scores total up the right way.

Yeah, that NCLB bullshit. No resources, had to take it from somewhere.. So what programs might I ask got hit the hardest??? At least where we are- Arts, Gifted & Talented programs and non sports extracurricular activities. Nothing against the sports crowd- don’t get me wrong, the Hurricane is a major jock. But should there not be some EQUITY here????

I have had to fight tooth and nail to get the credits that Miss Thing earned at JHU on her record (at OUR expense, thank you- and that is not a cheap program people) I’ve had to bitch and complain about access to AP courses, I’ve had to raise hell with any number of principals through the years about the fact that my kids are bored out of their minds.. And this frankly pisses me off.. Why the fuck are my kids being penalized for being smart?????

Why in the hell are we NOT giving the best and brightest equal treatment? Why is there the assumption that because they are bright, they’ll shuffle through and just let the college system deal with stimulating them? This is beyond fucked up..

I see perfectly capable and intelligent kids getting turned off and subsequently tuning out because they’re bored out of their minds.. How many do we lose every year because we fail to engage these children, support their intellect and give them the right tools to let them fly??

Hey Shrub- know what? Those two smart kids will come back to bite the universe in the ass. Be afraid, be very afraid.. Two brilliant humans that have actual compassion and in spite of being dismissed by their government- they’re both going to make a difference and make someone terribly ashamed that they ended up being marginalized. Mom and Dad will sit back at that point and just smile at all the righteous indignation coming down on your ass..

Ah Vanity-

Thy name is Dora..

So, I turned 46 last month.. I have never generally been bothered in the least by birthdays. 16 was great, got that passport to freedom- car keys. 18- passport to beer and the right to vote! 21, hard liquor and credit cards.. But those birthdays that seem to bother other people- never much cared. 30? Whatever.. I was busy. Nice party, lots of good natured jokes and found out I was pregnant with Miss Thing the following day. Drama, yes, but of the happy sort. 35? Well the Hurricane spat forth upon the universe the week before, so again, whatever -other things to do.. 40? Didn’t care in the least. Nice dinner, excellent wine, but again no drama. 45? See 40.. but I got excellent, excellent jewelry.

46? That one slammed me right upside the head. Now I fully admit I can be a vain bitch. I do not depart the house unless I can not be mortified if I actually see someone I know. When I was working full time this indeed meant a proper suit or such, proper hair and makeup. These days, unless I have a meeting it means clean jeans a civilized top and good basic grooming. Don’t laugh, I see what some people stroll out of the house in folks.. Truly mortifying.

The vanity? I looked in the mirror and wondered who this woman looking back at me these days is. I’ll grant you, I’m not saying I suddenly look like the bride of Frankenstein or some such. I just look and wonder what the hell happened here. One of my nasty little secrets happens to be that yours truly does tend to make with the preventive maintenance in a major way. Sunscreen, moisturizer, checking in with the dermatologist often. OK so the good doctor is more a fear of cancer- I was the major sun bunny before we knew it was bad for you, spent every summer of my childhood on the outer banks or on the tennis court or at the farm- all sans sunscreen- and I have a family history of melanoma. I digress, as usual.

My Mamma was a stunning woman. The most repeated comment at Mamma’s memorial was “she was the most beautiful woman I ever knew” - but to her credit, those kind souls appended the statement with “Inside and out”.. I grew up with a very smart woman that spent her entire life being judged by her looks. I often wonder what her life would have been like had she been born plain. But in the time and place she was born, she managed right well for herself. But in spite of, or because of that fact, I was always expected to present myself properly.

So here I sit, at 46.. it could be worse. I got lucky in the big game of genetic lotto- I had good looking parents. But for the first time in my life, I want to go back.. Just a couple of years, doesn’t seem so much to ask.. Boots jokingly asked me the other day if I’d ever go under the knife. Wow- what a fucking hypocrite am I? Until last month I’d have said no way in hell.. Would I do scary Janice Dickerson shit? No way in hell. A wee bit of something- perhaps I would. More like Catherine Deneuve or Michelle Pfeiffer- those guys were freaking geniuses..

Ok- so the why to the problem as a whole? As stated- I’m a hypocrite. I thought I spent most of my life trying to be judged on my brains. I broke my grandmother’s heart and Mamma’s by bailing on my coming out in a very rude (in retrospect) way. But I have used the sorta pretty as a weapon. I’ve blindsided people that were just expecting some dumb debutante. I’ll qualify that- not in some trashy way people.. Folks just sometimes make stupid assumptions- it’s not necessarily incumbent upon me to disabuse them until I care to so, now is it?

Guess I’ll just let nature take it’s course. Aided by some really good sunscreen and moisturizer..

So, how have y'all been?

Hello boys and girls.. everyone doing OK out there I hope? No I didn’t fall off the face of the earth. Nor did I change my name to Lola and move to Vegas to deal cards, in spite of the frequent threat to do just that. And thanks to you precious dears (you know who you are) that emailed to inquire as to my whereabouts.

Nothing monumental- just been busy, with a recurrence of the ennui as well, I do admit. I took on a contract job that I really didn’t want to deal with, as I knew it was a major mess, and straightening it out would be a royal pain in the ass. Sometimes being right is highly overrated But ‘tis the season for back to school, and kids are not in any way cheap. So between the project, the kiddos and the ongoing renovations, I’ve been a very busy girl.

Granted, the Hurricane entered double digits- requiring a 2 day fest of crazed little boys running through the casa. Baby sister decided to have an existential crisis, and yours truly had to face turning 46.. Yeah, we’ll deal with that later. Had to do the school shopping trip with Miss Thing, which always necessitates one or more of the adopted female children coming along, which I generally don’t mind. This year however, as we are entering high school- much sturm und drang had to accompany said trip. Sigh..

In short- some things never change, do they?

Ya think??

All together now boys and girls.... Well DUH!!

Lead paint is toxic when ingested by children and can cause brain damage or death. It's been mostly banned in the United States since the late 1970s, but is permitted in the coating of toys, providing it amounts to less than six parts per million.

Consumer advocates say the Bush administration has hindered regulation on two fronts. It stalled efforts to press for greater inspections of imported children's products, and it altered the focus of the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC), moving it from aggressive protection of consumers to a more manufacturer-friendly approach.

"The overall philosophy is regulations are bad and they are too large a cost for industry, and the market will take care of it," said Rick Melberth, director of regulatory policy at OMBWatch, a government watchdog group formed in 1983. "That's been the philosophy of the Bush administration."

Really now, not killing children could be bad for business folks!

Where everybody knows your name-

And they’re usually glad you came…

There are some good points and some bad ones about living in a fairly small place. No one ever asks for ID when you write a check. Car breaks down on the side of the road, someone you know will be along shortly. If you’re in the last gas pump next to the road that’s pre-pay only, yours will get authorized and can still write a check as soon as the clerk looks up and sees it’s you.. Your kids do something dumb, you’ll find out real quick..

There are some bad things as well. For one, running errands can take forever. The Beast doesn’t understand the length of time it takes to get things done. Years of telecommuting or commuting or a combination thereof has left him not so entrenched in the daily routine. Not that he’s anti social, he’s actually quite charming as a rule, he just doesn’t get out there as much as I do. Spending 15 years in the same place and 7 of those working for a popular doctor- you know a LOT of people.

It takes a little while to get shit dealt with when you have to speak to people. And for G.R.I.T.S. it's totally rude not to speak to people.. It's like white shoes after labor day, it's just not done. Again, the Beast doesn’t get it.. case in point, had some stuff to deal with today. Leave the house and head down the mountain, run into the Lord of the Lawn on his way up, stopped to chat for a moment about some plans we’re working on for the front of the house. Get another quarter of a mile and run into a neighbor that wants to chat. On we go..

Hit the gas station and fill up, cashier chats a moment or two and then asks if I can help a very lost couple from Jersey, fine. Get the very lost old folk pointed in the right direction. *Want the scenic route or want to drive back 20 miles or so and then turn left??* On to the dump (oh, the non-stop glamour) say hey to Keith, chat about the weather for a moment and unload the trash. Alrighty then, on to town proper.. Stop at the hardware store- say hey to Charlie chat for a few about his general health and his wife’s- hand over the lumber list and realize I totally forgot to take a piece of baseboard with me to match up. Starting to curse myself when he asks if it’s to finish the Beast’s office, no problem he knows what I need. Run back to pick up a few things and run into a former patient and have to do the twenty questions thing. Finally out of there.

Dry cleaners- you know the story by now. Bank and Post office- ditto.. And the man wonders why this takes time?? Not to mention the whole being about 12 miles from “town” thing, Don’t get me started on how long getting through the grocery store takes..

Funny, three decades ago this would be the last life I’d have ever seen myself in. Living in NYC with a couple of anorexic models and a Drag Queen, this would have been the very last damn life I’d have seen coming. The universe is indeed strange, but it really does have it’s own self leveling mechanisms. I want a dose of city, I’m close enough to get there for a day trip, I don’t want to screw with humanity I can hole up at home and not be bothered with it too much.

The Beast and I, the kids, the dogs and the bears and other assorted critters wandering about the back forty will stay put a while yet I expect. The world is totally strange sometimes.

Some Random Space-

Welcome to the back yard. In keeping with the no bummer theme..
This would be what I see from the kitchen window. Doesn't suck.

North-east side of the back yard.. No critters- amazing! Usually some sort of creature trotting through.


It's really good to be home..

Silly Boys..

To take a break from all the bummer posts of the last week or so- welcome to my back yard. These would be pictures of last night's fun and games at the back end of Casa de Locos.
Say hello to Ed and Mike folks..
Ed, Mike- say hello to the nice people.
What goobers.. watched these two guys all last summer and fall as cubs, trailing along after their mamma bear. It's nice to see them as healthy teenagers. Next time I'll try and get some pictures of old Uncle Bob. He's been roaming through here for about 15 years, biggest black bear I've ever seen. Kinda cute the way he more or less tolerates the boys, but tries to ignore them at the same time.

I'll try and get some foxes and deer and other assorted critters soon. And apologies to the nice virtual friends that have actual talent when it comes to taking a picture. But then again, my ass wasn't getting down off the deck and into the yard for a closer shot either.. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid people.

Scars

Somewhere around 3AM on Tuesday I remembered something my Grandmother used to say, “Scars are proof of two things- either your own stupidity or good fortune.”

Got the big guy up and out of bed because he was having horrible hot flashes and sweating bullets, and man can I sympathize with that! Anyway, getting him wiped down and into a clean gown I thought about the roadmap of his life that brother dear’s scars represent.

There’s that big one that extends from well above his right ear and snakes down into his neck. I remember the first time I saw it after he came home from having a total neck dissection, an angry ugly thing at the time, that has mellowed through the years. I remember how self conscious he was, being a teenager at the time. Good fortune indeed, that tumor would have killed most people, he was actually in a medical paper somewhere in academia way back then because it was a radical surgery for his type of cancer at the time. Lucky scar indeed.

I see the one at the base of his neck from his disc surgery a few years back. Stupidity for constant abuse of his body and refusing to admit it and slow down.

The large one to the right of his new accessory, that’s where they removed another tumor a decade or so ago that proved to be benign. Good fortune.

The one on the left side of his thick skull? Slipped on a rock fly fishing alone somewhere in BFE and managed to hike his bleeding, dazed ass back to the road and flag down help. Well, we’ll call that a win for both sides I suppose.

His hands and arms, faint scars too numerous to count. Years spent at the forge with an anvil and hammer will give you a lot of burn marks. I see those hands and realize those huge, strong scarred appendages can take a piece of iron and fashion it into something beautiful- a perfect dogwood blossom, a rose, a bouquet of calla lilies. It has always rather amazed me the artistic talent that can take a raw block of iron and make something of such beauty out of it. Or do something more practical and make a pair of corrective shoes for a horse that’s hurting.. “No hoof, no horse” after all. Good fortune.

Thought about my own a bit. The big one on the heel of my right hand where I sliced myself royally one year after Christmas, de-boning a leftover ham for bean soup . Chalk one up for stupidity. Wash the knife stupid!!!

The good sized burn mark on my right forearm- acquired while checking a standing rib roast at the precise moment the Hurricane was playing lets chase the dogs through the kitchen and the big dog collided with me and knocked me forward into the oven rack. Good fortune, a second or two later and I’d have been totally bent over and it would have been my face.

The little half moon scar under my left shoulder blade- yeah chalk that one up to stupid and 20.. Haven’t touched tequila since that night , and we’ll leave it at that.

Those few random stretch marks.. In moments of vanity I consider them bad luck. But they are the best of good fortune. Two very difficult pregnancies, two babies with different, but equally dire issues in infancy that are now healthy people. With any luck they’ll be viable humans with a sense of responsibility and a purpose in life.

Grandma was right.. look at your scars and remember how lucky you really are folks, or how fortunate you were to have survived your own stupidity.

There's no place like home.

It is so, so good to be back in the normal chaos of Casa de Locos! Kids didn’t kill each other, the house didn’t burn down, and every one has all the body parts that were attached when I left still intact.. Props to Miss Thing for keeping the house together for me for a whole week! well the Beast did end up making a trip to the ER, but that's a whole 'nuther story.

What a trip! On every level you care to use the term for.. Brother #2 is a mess, but alive and hopefully will be just as good, or better- provided he behaves himself. Quadruple bypass, he picks now to be an over achiever- OY!

Spent 2 nights taking the overnight shift at the hospital. Yeah, I vowed to wait till he got home.. but became convinced I could be of use the last few days after getting updated on things… Anyhoo- he needed an overnight sitter as he tended to want to do stupid shit like get up in the middle of the night and attempt to go on walkabout- ended up trying to get out of bed and nearly cracked his skull open on night number three of his stay because he went to look for our dead Mamma.. Big fella doesn’t react well to either general anesthesia or painkillers.. No sleep at all, they gave him everything they could think of and he just couldn’t get settled down. I do however now hold the babysitting record of getting him to sleep for 4 hours straight.

So I get there and he’s fairly looped on painkillers and thinks I’m Mamma.. heart wrenching doesn’t even begin to describe it. He was Mamma’s boy, and to have him ask me why it took so long to get there just tore me into more pieces than I imagined possible.. So I petted him and sang to him and settled him down until he came back to the real world, and he looked at me and said “Hey kid, when did you get here?” I had to step outside.

To see the strongest man I know reduced to this mess- I had to take a moment. This huge man, who has spent 30 some odd years as a Blacksmith and a Farrier, a man who spends his life outdoors and is the most physical creature I know now can’t sit up without help. A large piece of my heart broke. And the moment it fell to the floor, I really did hear it shatter, and I’m still not sure how to pick it up and put it back together.

So we spent two very, very long nights getting up and down. Vacillating between reason and insanity, in some strange twilight place that neither of us wanted to be in. Being a gentleman who was raised to be as polite as a person can be, while lucid he’d apologize for wanting to get up or having to move, or go to the bathroom.. and when out of it he was an ornery cuss. He had to try and walk to keep the fluid from settling on his lungs, and he’d still try and hold the door for the nurses and let the little old ladies pass..

My lord, how hard could it be for him to have his little sister have to stand in the bathroom with him so he didn’t fall? We managed to find a relatively dignified way to get around it so he wasn’t mortified- and I wasn’t terrified he was going to get hurt. But those weird twilight times when he’d wake after managing to doze for a few moments were the worst.. he’d wake up in a start and get panicked if he couldn’t see me.

As predicted, he wasn’t home an hour before he had to try and walk out to his shop.. Yeah, that went real well. Part of the reason I got called in for the sitting was just general relief, the other part being I appear to be the only person that tells him when he’s being an asshole. Yep- called him on that one, big time. Had to pull out the “I’m launching your ass back into another time zone” threat All the other concerned parties are treating him like an infant and hovering, which was (is) driving him nuts- I pretty much sat back until he either needed me or was getting ready to do something stupid, talked when he wanted to talk, and shut up otherwise and let him be. Another little chunk of the heart broke off when he asked me when I was leaving if I couldn’t just stay a little longer, because I was the only person not treating him like “someone else”, as he put it. Now I’m not being mean, but taking care of someone and smothering are two different things- and everyone else is smothering big time at the moment, and I just happen to think a stubborn and independent person like him needs a little latitude. I’m in the minority of one it appears..

I did however learn an interesting lesson- siblings often don’t really know one another as actual adult humans. Sure, we love each other and keep up with the general goings on in respect to our lives and such.. But the flood of calls and people dropping by with casseroles and offers to tend the horses and such gave me a view of my brother I expect I may never have had. A good friend of mine once told me that the measure of a life well spent was the love you received, there’s a lot of truth in that. My brilliant brother, a man that had the smarts to do anything he wanted to do chose to follow his heart and his natural inclinations. Given the avalanche of love and concern, it’s a life very well spent. We’ve decided we actually like each other as grown up people and have made a date for a weekend just for the two of us- as soon as he’s allowed to drive.

Wow, that went on forever didn’t it? Processing the experience y’all- just processing it, and I expect I will for quite some time to come...Blame it on acute sleep deprivation- 8 hours of sleep in 5 days makes a person a little crazy. Or in my case crazier than usual.

Thanks y'all!

The support has been very helpful as I wrangled with that particular decision, and the repercussions. Brother #2 is sort of like John Wayne in "The Quiet Man"- not one to tell me he wanted me there right then, or say he'd rather I came later.. Still waters do run real deep- but once in a while it would be nice to get some constructive verbalization for crying out loud!

Brother dear spent about five hours on the table, but is out and all went well thankfully! In order not to obsess I spent the day painting the Beast's office so I can lay the new floor before I head south..

So, now all I need to do is sock back enough easy to reheat eats so the kids can watch the Beast for me while I'm gone. For real, the man has actually burned water before. Luckily Miss Thing is a generally responsible person.

Off to make some lasagna to park in the freezer..

Bet you money he's going to try and wander his ass out to his shop and start piddling around with something within 24 hours.. I will have to practice the really stern Mom voice- "Step away from the anvil young man!" or "Get your stupid ass in that house right now before I launch you back into last year!"

My peculiar logic-

So I've decided to wait till Brother #2 is released to head south.. Bear with me. The rest of the family unit is descending to hover over him- which will drive him totally nuts by the way. I figure it makes a lot more sense for me to get there when he's released so I can give his wife a break, let her get her shit together at work and so forth.

I'm a pretty good substitute for a nurse and a pretty fair cook- this seems to me to be more productive than standing over him, staring at the monitors and trying to make small talk about bullshit while he's on massive painkillers.. I don't sit still well, period. I'd rather be doing something helpful, or at least productive.

So am I completely wrong? I got the 411 on his surgeon- the guy knows his shit. He's a strong fella, if I had any concerns regarding the actual procedure I'd have gotten my ass in the car last night.

So am I being rational or being a bitch? Guess it depends on which family member you ask.. and for the records Brother #2 and the Sister in law are cool with it. Do I allow useless guilt to rule, or practicality?

Aw screw the guilt, I'm going for practical. If the rest of them can't see the logic in it, so be it.

Strange fortune

Baby Sister thinks I'm crazy.... Brother #2 was hospitalized yesterday with chest pain. Guess who's getting a triple bypass tomorrow morning? I say this was most fortunate. I figure better a bypass WITHOUT a heart attack than a heart attack precipitating the need for a cardiac cath to find the blockage.. I'm weird like that. Frankly I think he's awfully lucky.

Brother #2 and I have had a rather complicated relationship the past few years, to put it mildly. No open hostility or anything really, we just ignored one another instead of having a knock down drag out. Personally I think that would have been healthier, but he's too passive (and occasionally passive-aggressive) for that. But he was man enough to make the first move to try and mend that fence, so we have tried to get past it and move on.

So I have to head to Carolina and see my strapping big brother weak as a kitten. Selfishly I really don't think I can handle that on some level. And when I say strapping, I mean big fella, strong as an ox from many years as a farrier. My truck driving, fly fishing, tough good old boy (who reads Kafka) brother, with his chest cracked open and helpless. Having trouble picturing with that.

Wish I could say I was surprised, but I'm not. Been nagging him for years that the train wreck was going to come. Somehow saying "I told you so" isn't going to give me any satisfaction this time. Guess I'll keep my mouth shut for once in my life.