Eight months ago I started to read a book. Tonight I finished it. I think it was good but I really only remember the last hundred or so pages. And then I cried at the end. It's name is "Firefly Lane."
Now I am faced with the awesome task of choosing my next book. There are several that have languished in my bookcase for quite some time (or years - I'm looking at you, "Poisonwood Bible"), the last book in the Kay Scarpetta series... I thought about "Vanishing Acts" but I fear that I have already read it and I just don't remember. I have a book in there called "Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress." I think I'll try that one next as anything too deep these days causes me to lose interest with alarming speed. I've wanted to read "Wicked" but I am afraid that all those made-up names will distract me from the story. Mac wants me to read those vampire books. (What are they called?) I could totally do that but it seems like a huge commitment - have you seen how big they are? They could be the last books I ever enjoy at my current rate of reading.
I have read "Fireman Small" countless times over the past two years but that can only take me so far in the Literary Satisfaction Department. Therefore, I'm currently open for suggestions. If you have a book that you lovedlovedloved, please let me know. Just don't let it be too cumbersome. I can only dedicate a limited number of brain cells to reading lately. Thank you for your participation.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Friday, October 09, 2009
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
7 Days:Day 5: Bedtime Ritual
Every night, Tim and I get into bed, turn on the TV, the timer set for 120 minutes, and then promptly fall asleep. We never watch an entire show.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
7 Days:Day 4: Big Eyes & Squints
Mackenzie and I are commenting on my Facebook while on 2 different computers, sitting Right Next to each other. Because that's how we roll.
Monday, October 05, 2009
7 Days:Day 3: Scritch-Scritch
Last Thursday, Babycat broke her lower back-upper tail. (She probably got hit by a car.) She is walking better, but her tail is dead and will probaby have to be amputated. Her brain seems to be getting the message that she has to potty, so the prognosis seems Good! We have a follow-up appointment tomorrow and will know more then.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
7 Days:Day 2: Family
This evening we celebrated my mother and Tim's mothers birthdays at our house with Lasagne, wine, and cake. We are very close to our Families. That's "Family" (in Sign) to Alex.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
7 Days:Day 1: Just Paige
Nothing like waiting until just before bedtime to try and find inspiration for a photo! Here is me in my new (grown out) haircut.
(Retroactively posting these. Just because.)
(Retroactively posting these. Just because.)
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
An Open Letter to Delta Airlines
My 14 year old daughter, flying from her non-custodial father's house in San Diego with a lay-over in Minneapolis, arrived in Indianapolis tonight to a mess caused by your customer service personnel. First of all, she was listed as an unaccompanied minor in San Diego but listed as an adult in Minneapolis. This caused an issue when I went to get my gate pass to go get her. Finally, that was figured out and we went through security to find her disembarking. There was no paperwork in her envelope so the customer "service" representative (Jodi) looked it up in the computer. She did not bother to explain to me what was going on and barely even acknowledged me. She couldn't figure out what to do and after about 10 minutes finally told me that there was no paperwork to prove who was to pick up Mackenzie and to prove that the $100 fee had been paid. (I could not have cared less about your $100 fee at this point but it seemed to be very important to Jodi.) She called some people, looked around in the computer, and finally found the name of a "J. Mills" and a phone number. This is my ex-mother-in-law. She called Jane and played a guessing game with her, asking if she knew who would be picking Mackenzie up tonight. Jane didn't even know that Mackenzie was traveling today and guessed a "George" (my father). That was wrong and Jodi hung up. At this time, Mackenzie started to cry, fearing that she wouldn't be able to come home with her family.
After about 30 minutes of this fiasco, a gentleman finally noticed that Jodi didn't know what she was doing and pointed out that my name was on the envelope. She had me sign for Mackenzie, never apologized for the confusion, and I practically threw the document at her and left, calling her a moron. Because she was. A third man, another CSR , who was completely uninvolved up to this point, hollered at us as we walked away, "We're only protecting your child." He had no idea what had just happened and had no business making comment.
I have no problem with ensuring that you are handing over children to the proper adult. My problem lies in the lack of communication, the lack of acknowledgement, and the way this was handled. Jodi could have reassured Mackenzie, she could have explained to me earlier on what was going on, she could have left out her concern that Delta get it's $100. My name was on that paper all along. All Jodi had to do was open her eyes and look for it. My daughter left your airline sobbing tonight and that is unacceptable to me. For a child that travels alone 2-4 times a year, I will be hard-pressed to consider Delta in the future.
I would like to hear your response to this matter.
After about 30 minutes of this fiasco, a gentleman finally noticed that Jodi didn't know what she was doing and pointed out that my name was on the envelope. She had me sign for Mackenzie, never apologized for the confusion, and I practically threw the document at her and left, calling her a moron. Because she was. A third man, another CSR , who was completely uninvolved up to this point, hollered at us as we walked away, "We're only protecting your child." He had no idea what had just happened and had no business making comment.
I have no problem with ensuring that you are handing over children to the proper adult. My problem lies in the lack of communication, the lack of acknowledgement, and the way this was handled. Jodi could have reassured Mackenzie, she could have explained to me earlier on what was going on, she could have left out her concern that Delta get it's $100. My name was on that paper all along. All Jodi had to do was open her eyes and look for it. My daughter left your airline sobbing tonight and that is unacceptable to me. For a child that travels alone 2-4 times a year, I will be hard-pressed to consider Delta in the future.
I would like to hear your response to this matter.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Time Marches On
I've been pondering the beast that is "Time" lately. There is not enough of it. There is not enough Time at work, there is not enough Time at home, there is not enough Time with friends and family, and it feels like the days pass at warp speed.
It's been bothering me that I've abandoned my writing. I've always written in some form, but it's been almost 6 months since I've posted anything to Cartwheels. It's a double-edge sword: I think it's a shame that I spent so many years being sad and expressing it in my writing and in my need to write and now that I live every day in happiness and contentment, I don't take the time to share it and record it so that I can look back on it and remember how wonderful I feel at this moment.
It was a busy spring. I barely remember it, quite frankly. I started a new job that required me to be in Indianapolis for training for 3 months. Most people stayed down there during the week and came home on the weekends. I couldn't do that. With Tim working 24-hour shifts and kids at home, there was no way for me to just leave for a week at a time. So I commuted each day - left at 5:15am and returned at 6:00pm. I was in bed at 8 most nights. That left little time for writing or anything else. Tim picked up the slack by taking on the laundry, the cooking, the kids, and most of the cleaning. I couldn't be more grateful. Our amazing Family filled in the empty spots.
When summer came, I decided it was time to build a fence, a patio, and 3 new flower beds. Two are currently complete. But the backyard looks fabulous. If only there was Time to use it.
I haven't been taking pictures. I've taken half as many photos this year as I usually do. That's not ok. The year will be gone and I'll wonder how we spent the Time.
I did take the Time to read 2 books lately, one Mac asked me to read, and "The Last Summer (Of You & Me)." I am currently ignoring "Firefly Lane."
My hair is growing out again. It should take some Time - a couple of years - to get it back to where it belongs. I should really stop cutting it. Mac looked at me one day last winter, a year after I'd cut my hair and said, "Mom, when are you going to grow your hair back? You don't look like you." And she's right. I don't feel like me. I should invest in a new mirror before it gets much longer, though, before I get tired of not being able to see myself again and shave it.
I haven't had enough Time for friends. For talking on the phone with Annie and Beth, for Tim and I to attend the Mosey down Main Street with Scott and Zandra, for going to my cousin Gretchen's house for beers and girltalk. I've only been to the pool twice this year, for heaven's sake! Alison laughed at my white, white legs. My legs have never been white! Even in the winter, my skin is darker than all my friends! It appears I've been spending too much time in the office and the house. This needs to change. Maybe this weekend.
It's a little late for New Year's Resolutions, but I think I'll resolve to write more. To find some Time to record how amazing our life is. So that when the kids are gone, and Tim and I are old, we won't look at each other and wonder how we spent all that Time.
It's been bothering me that I've abandoned my writing. I've always written in some form, but it's been almost 6 months since I've posted anything to Cartwheels. It's a double-edge sword: I think it's a shame that I spent so many years being sad and expressing it in my writing and in my need to write and now that I live every day in happiness and contentment, I don't take the time to share it and record it so that I can look back on it and remember how wonderful I feel at this moment.
It was a busy spring. I barely remember it, quite frankly. I started a new job that required me to be in Indianapolis for training for 3 months. Most people stayed down there during the week and came home on the weekends. I couldn't do that. With Tim working 24-hour shifts and kids at home, there was no way for me to just leave for a week at a time. So I commuted each day - left at 5:15am and returned at 6:00pm. I was in bed at 8 most nights. That left little time for writing or anything else. Tim picked up the slack by taking on the laundry, the cooking, the kids, and most of the cleaning. I couldn't be more grateful. Our amazing Family filled in the empty spots.
When summer came, I decided it was time to build a fence, a patio, and 3 new flower beds. Two are currently complete. But the backyard looks fabulous. If only there was Time to use it.
I haven't been taking pictures. I've taken half as many photos this year as I usually do. That's not ok. The year will be gone and I'll wonder how we spent the Time.
I did take the Time to read 2 books lately, one Mac asked me to read, and "The Last Summer (Of You & Me)." I am currently ignoring "Firefly Lane."
My hair is growing out again. It should take some Time - a couple of years - to get it back to where it belongs. I should really stop cutting it. Mac looked at me one day last winter, a year after I'd cut my hair and said, "Mom, when are you going to grow your hair back? You don't look like you." And she's right. I don't feel like me. I should invest in a new mirror before it gets much longer, though, before I get tired of not being able to see myself again and shave it.
I haven't had enough Time for friends. For talking on the phone with Annie and Beth, for Tim and I to attend the Mosey down Main Street with Scott and Zandra, for going to my cousin Gretchen's house for beers and girltalk. I've only been to the pool twice this year, for heaven's sake! Alison laughed at my white, white legs. My legs have never been white! Even in the winter, my skin is darker than all my friends! It appears I've been spending too much time in the office and the house. This needs to change. Maybe this weekend.
It's a little late for New Year's Resolutions, but I think I'll resolve to write more. To find some Time to record how amazing our life is. So that when the kids are gone, and Tim and I are old, we won't look at each other and wonder how we spent all that Time.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Babycat Haz A Deathwish
Last week she was playing in the heavy pottery bowl on the side table which, before this particular incident, housed the clickers. There was a chap stick in the bottom of the bowl and one of her favorite games involved trying to get that chap stick out to bat around the floor. Until last week when she knocked the bowl off the side table, scattering the contents, shattering the bowl, and ran off to curl up under the dining room table. When I finally pulled her out, I could see that she was holding her right leg up and limped terribly on it; is still limping on it. The vet said it's not broken.
One night recently, Tim and I went to a funeral. Before we left, I shut the closet door in Alex's room. When we returned five hours later, Mac mentioned that she hadn't seen Babycat in a long time. I instantly panicked. The wind chill was below freezing outside. We called for her. We shook the treat jar. Nothing. Then. Something reminded me that I had shut the closet door in Alex's room. I crept past where he was sleeping and could hear her crying inside the closet. I opened the door and she ran to the food bowl, evidently relieved that she didn't starve to death that night.
Several nights later, Babycat was playing on a dining room chair, jumping up at the back of it, chasing some unseen fun. While at the top of a jump, she managed to stick her head between the slats and practically strangle herself as she came back down. For the slats narrow at the bottom of the chair and she isn't tall enough to push herself back up. Luckily, I happened to be standing Right There and was able to lift her head up and out of the deathtrap, shaking at the realization that if we hadn't been home, or even in the same room with her, she would have died. I turned to Tim and said, "We need new chairs. These are a safety hazard." He just smiled and told me, "Ok." (And he totally would, you know - buy new chairs to save my baby girl.)
The next night, she jumped off the spiral staircase from over 6 feet up. She flew through the air, only to land and run, once again, under the dining room table, curled up in a ball. She appeared to be fine several minutes later when she started batting a ping pong ball around the room.
After this last incident, Tim gently approached me and pointed out, "Didn't you remove Babycat from a home with terrible living conditions and bring her here to protect her?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Baby," he tenderly said. "Maybe she would have been safer there?"
And all I could do was laugh and recall the Social Worker's mantra: "We're not looking for The Best environment. We're looking for a Safe environment."
...and consider how ironic it would be if I rescued Babycat from that home only to have her die in an accident in mine.
One night recently, Tim and I went to a funeral. Before we left, I shut the closet door in Alex's room. When we returned five hours later, Mac mentioned that she hadn't seen Babycat in a long time. I instantly panicked. The wind chill was below freezing outside. We called for her. We shook the treat jar. Nothing. Then. Something reminded me that I had shut the closet door in Alex's room. I crept past where he was sleeping and could hear her crying inside the closet. I opened the door and she ran to the food bowl, evidently relieved that she didn't starve to death that night.
Several nights later, Babycat was playing on a dining room chair, jumping up at the back of it, chasing some unseen fun. While at the top of a jump, she managed to stick her head between the slats and practically strangle herself as she came back down. For the slats narrow at the bottom of the chair and she isn't tall enough to push herself back up. Luckily, I happened to be standing Right There and was able to lift her head up and out of the deathtrap, shaking at the realization that if we hadn't been home, or even in the same room with her, she would have died. I turned to Tim and said, "We need new chairs. These are a safety hazard." He just smiled and told me, "Ok." (And he totally would, you know - buy new chairs to save my baby girl.)
The next night, she jumped off the spiral staircase from over 6 feet up. She flew through the air, only to land and run, once again, under the dining room table, curled up in a ball. She appeared to be fine several minutes later when she started batting a ping pong ball around the room.
After this last incident, Tim gently approached me and pointed out, "Didn't you remove Babycat from a home with terrible living conditions and bring her here to protect her?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Baby," he tenderly said. "Maybe she would have been safer there?"
And all I could do was laugh and recall the Social Worker's mantra: "We're not looking for The Best environment. We're looking for a Safe environment."
...and consider how ironic it would be if I rescued Babycat from that home only to have her die in an accident in mine.
Monday, January 26, 2009
In Which Paige Refers to Herself In the Third Person
Paige got a Facebook. She succumbed to Annie's persistent suggestion that she could talk on the phone less if Annie could see what she was doing more frequently.
Annie was right. (As she usually is, and we all know this so don't go telling her how amazing she is thereby giving her the Big Head. This is why we call her "The Voice of Reason.")
Anyway, Paige has a Facebook, and Tim has one, and many of their friends have one. They have gotten in touch with old friends (WLHS Class of '85!) and gotten to know new friends (Hi, Joni!) and have generally been having a grand old time. The one drawback Paige has found is that she is starting to narrate her day to herself in third person. Behold...
Paige hates cold dark mornings. She doesn't want to get up.
Paige. Needs. Coffee.
Paige LOVES that Tim brings her coffee every morning.
Paige thinks winter is stoopid.
Paige can't decide if laundry or vacuuming is priority.
Paige thinks Tim's voice is sexy. Not Darth-Vadery like Mac says.
Paige should take something out of the freezer for dinner.
Paige notes that she has to pick up Mackenzie and Alex in 45 minutes.
Paige is neglecting the Blog again.
Paige feels fat. Pass the Peanut M&M's.
Paige shouldn't procrastinate on Facebook.
Paige is roasting red peppers.
Paige wishes cats didn't poop.
Paige and Tim need privacy.
Paige is happy that someone invented Facebook and invited us all to play, but wishes that it hadn't brought to glaring light that she is slightly nuts.
Annie was right. (As she usually is, and we all know this so don't go telling her how amazing she is thereby giving her the Big Head. This is why we call her "The Voice of Reason.")
Anyway, Paige has a Facebook, and Tim has one, and many of their friends have one. They have gotten in touch with old friends (WLHS Class of '85!) and gotten to know new friends (Hi, Joni!) and have generally been having a grand old time. The one drawback Paige has found is that she is starting to narrate her day to herself in third person. Behold...
Paige hates cold dark mornings. She doesn't want to get up.
Paige. Needs. Coffee.
Paige LOVES that Tim brings her coffee every morning.
Paige thinks winter is stoopid.
Paige can't decide if laundry or vacuuming is priority.
Paige thinks Tim's voice is sexy. Not Darth-Vadery like Mac says.
Paige should take something out of the freezer for dinner.
Paige notes that she has to pick up Mackenzie and Alex in 45 minutes.
Paige is neglecting the Blog again.
Paige feels fat. Pass the Peanut M&M's.
Paige shouldn't procrastinate on Facebook.
Paige is roasting red peppers.
Paige wishes cats didn't poop.
Paige and Tim need privacy.
Paige is happy that someone invented Facebook and invited us all to play, but wishes that it hadn't brought to glaring light that she is slightly nuts.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
My Favorite Things
...lazy Sunday mornings having coffee with Tim.
...a bookcase full of new possibilities.
...a house de-furred.
...Snoopy.
...smiling. Smiling's my favorite.
...Joe performing.
...good-hair days.
...margaritas.
...the way Alex signs "I love you."
...Spring.
...laughing with my sister.
...early morning, before the kids are up.
...Babycat curled up on the back of my chair.
...taking a photo with just the right light.
...a Slinky.
...waking up to find that it's only 3am and I have several more hours of sleep.
...Mac Paints in Sublime.
...Oatmeal Raisin cookies.
...my amazing Navy Wife sisters. xoxo.
...a new candle.
...how Dillon says, "Hey, Mama!" when he answers my phonecall.
...Lucy.
...holding hands.
...watching a fountain.
...Alex smiling.
...Tim's voice.
...finishing a scarf.
...a sale at The Gap.
...learning new signs.
...a fire in the fireplace.
...new paint colors.
...a sunbeam.
...Mackenzie's hair.
...a bookcase full of new possibilities.
...a house de-furred.
...Snoopy.
...smiling. Smiling's my favorite.
...Joe performing.
...good-hair days.
...margaritas.
...the way Alex signs "I love you."
...Spring.
...laughing with my sister.
...early morning, before the kids are up.
...Babycat curled up on the back of my chair.
...taking a photo with just the right light.
...a Slinky.
...waking up to find that it's only 3am and I have several more hours of sleep.
...Mac Paints in Sublime.
...Oatmeal Raisin cookies.
...my amazing Navy Wife sisters. xoxo.
...a new candle.
...how Dillon says, "Hey, Mama!" when he answers my phonecall.
...Lucy.
...holding hands.
...watching a fountain.
...Alex smiling.
...Tim's voice.
...finishing a scarf.
...a sale at The Gap.
...learning new signs.
...a fire in the fireplace.
...new paint colors.
...a sunbeam.
...Mackenzie's hair.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Bigcat Haz Envy
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Again With the Paint
There has been a painting situation going down in this house lately.
In 2007, I fell in love at first sight with my home right off the MLS sheet. I called my realtor (the Worst Realtor Ever, BTW) who got me in to see it the very next day and standing on the front porch, after months of searching and countless boring houses, I knew that this was the house I was going to buy - a tiny little 2-bedroom bungalow with a semi-finished basement. It looked like a beach house with the massive windows, snow white trim, and scuffed-up hardwood floors. I wanted to expand on the beachy feeling and in sharp contrast to the vivid colors I painted the townhouse in Virginia*, I chose seaside shades for this home - sand, green beachglass, and blue, blue water. I wanted to create a soothing, relaxing, girlie-if-you-will, space for what I expected to be mine and Mackenzie's oasis.
That lasted one year.
With a new husband and new sons and new busyness, the colors in this home haven't felt vibrant enough for this family in constant motion. So last week, I painted the dining room Asparagus Green:
... and this week the living room will be Robin's Egg Blue (keeping the brown on the chimney):
Hopefully by spring, the kitchen cabinets will be white, the walls Periwinkle, and the back wall of the kitchen chalkboard paint - necessary for keeping track of my crew.
Mackenzie laughed at me when I told her what I was going to do, saying, "I don't know why you painted the house those colors in the first place - I think you were trying to be grown up. Are you over it now?"
And I suppose I am. The bold colors are back and they seem to infuse our home with a vibrancy that fits the constant hustle and bustle around here.
*Wow. There is a lot of new furniture in this house - a combination of selling my old stuff on CraigsList and purchasing new PaigeAndTim furniture, and a bit of Tim's stuff added to the mixture.
In 2007, I fell in love at first sight with my home right off the MLS sheet. I called my realtor (the Worst Realtor Ever, BTW) who got me in to see it the very next day and standing on the front porch, after months of searching and countless boring houses, I knew that this was the house I was going to buy - a tiny little 2-bedroom bungalow with a semi-finished basement. It looked like a beach house with the massive windows, snow white trim, and scuffed-up hardwood floors. I wanted to expand on the beachy feeling and in sharp contrast to the vivid colors I painted the townhouse in Virginia*, I chose seaside shades for this home - sand, green beachglass, and blue, blue water. I wanted to create a soothing, relaxing, girlie-if-you-will, space for what I expected to be mine and Mackenzie's oasis.
That lasted one year.
With a new husband and new sons and new busyness, the colors in this home haven't felt vibrant enough for this family in constant motion. So last week, I painted the dining room Asparagus Green:
... and this week the living room will be Robin's Egg Blue (keeping the brown on the chimney):
Hopefully by spring, the kitchen cabinets will be white, the walls Periwinkle, and the back wall of the kitchen chalkboard paint - necessary for keeping track of my crew.
Mackenzie laughed at me when I told her what I was going to do, saying, "I don't know why you painted the house those colors in the first place - I think you were trying to be grown up. Are you over it now?"
And I suppose I am. The bold colors are back and they seem to infuse our home with a vibrancy that fits the constant hustle and bustle around here.
*Wow. There is a lot of new furniture in this house - a combination of selling my old stuff on CraigsList and purchasing new PaigeAndTim furniture, and a bit of Tim's stuff added to the mixture.
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