You Can Write A Lot About Nothing

Warning: The following post has absolutely no content anyone would find interesting.

All aspirations I had of ever appearing to have any class... gone.

I realized this as I was making my way through the kitchen, having been summoned by one child that was sitting on a toilet.

I grabbed a carrot stick as I passed the kitchen countertop and popped it into my mouth...
on the way to go wipe a stinky, little bottom.
Chewing food while wiping poo. Crunching on crisp, healthy carrots in a putrid green fog.
Out goes all of my lectures about good hand-washing habits when they see a carrot poking out of my mouth in the bathroom.

(I'm just a micro moment away from having books, magazines and a small refrigerator in there)

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You know that 365 challenge? One of the things that Chris advised was not to be hard on yourself for missing a day.

How about a week? I'm an over-under achiever.

I seriously have not even lifted my camera (except to photograph clothing of Miss Ky's being listed on an online sale site-- not very artistic).
I did take over 277 pictures at one footie game, does that count for anything?

I am NOT quitting, but my challenge will be more like the 358 Photo Challenge. AND yes, I had to use a calculator for that.

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The computer transfer is complete.

I don't handle change well.
I don't like running into the computer room to quickly print an urgent church report only to find that the printer was one of the things overlooked in the set up.
I also don't like that my iPhone seems to think I am trying to give it bad information from another iTunes and wants me to sync (remember how the hubby suggested I sync two weeks ago and I lost EVERYTHING?) (also remember how I mentioned that not all of my music transferred? They're still on the phone, but not in my computer library).

The photos-- perfect. AND I've managed to load all 900 photos from our Disney World trip to an online storage place. Now if something terrible happens, 900 of 29,884 photos will be safe.


What?

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I have taken Mental P Mama's advice and have a holiday-for-one booked. My UK bloggy friends interested in meeting up in March should contact me...

Actually, the Hubby booked it for me, I'm going searching for Mr. Darcy...

U.S. bloggy friends interested in meeting in one very hot, muggy state where a certain larger-than-life mouse resides-- during hurricane season-- should also contact me.



*crickets*

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Did you know Bugs Bunny was allergic to carrots? (more specifically, Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny was allergic to my toilet snack of choice).

Go on, share with me your disgusting highlights of the week...

Suckered

Do I have "Fool" written on my forehead?

Last night ended badly. After a crazily over-booked day (nothing new, I seem to be doing this regularly-- but it's really bad to schedule yourself to feed two young missionaries on the same day you've accepted a dinner invitation, have a play date booked for one child and a football match for another), the hubby decided it was in the best interest of everyone that he mess with my computer.

He discovered at 11pm when I was incoherently babbling about not getting a break from the kids (more specifically a certain head-strong toddler) in 7 straight days, that he may have made a bad choice.

Do NOT feel sorry for the man. I stayed home from watching Simon Lappin Norwich City play so that one kid could attend a birthday party. Three joyful hours of blaring disco music and sugar-high children-- in the company of Miss Ky, the Talk-a-tron.

So, last night, in my already fragile state, the toddler decides that bed is just not the place for her and because she's exhibiting signs of impending illness, I let her get away with it...
until 3am or so when I crack and can't take anymore of her whinging.

(I'm a much more empathetic mother when I'm rested, honestly).

At 7am when the 11 year-old complains of killer headache, I basically let him know that he would suck it up and go to school. I gave him Motrin and a banana to go with his breakfast, because I'm kind like that and at 8.03 we barely make the bus stop.

At 8.20 am, middle child is declaring he has no school trousers. I insist he does and send him back upstairs. This argument continues until 8.30, leaving me no time to shower myself.

Laundry is done and mostly put away, so I look elsewhere for missing trousers.
I start with the small space under their bunk beds that is not taken up by drawers and discover not only enough lint to recover a bald cat, but that smallest boy has been declaring his love for Norwich City Football all over the wood of his bed. In pen.

In the meantime, toddler is going full speed ahead with her whinging process despite only a couple of hours of sleep. She is riding her bike through the house complaining that her eyes hurt (allergies).

Sometime after I've loudly stated that I quit and I am officially turning in my resignation as mother of these children, middle son is miraculously wearing trousers. Buoyed by this new turn of events, I try to plunge ahead, knowing that the bus has been missed, but that we still have time to get there in the car-- with me un-showered. Not great, but workable.

That is the time that middle child decides he needs to find a hat for "Hats for Haiti" day.

He's known all weekend he needed a hat, but chooses this time to look for one. The kid is his Dad's child 100%. He stands there and wills a hat to come find him. Amazing.

Those 2 children were late for school and don't you know that when all other mothers (and dad's) are back home drinking their coffee or off to their busy jobs, there has to be someone who knows me there at the school gate to greet me in my bed-headed glory?

Toddler falls asleep on the way home and the evil me wants to shake her and shout, "Don't you dare sleep!"... I'm not confessing whether or not I gave in to that urge.

We are home for precisely one hour and thirty-three minutes when the phone rings and the nice lady on the other end politely tells me that the child who now needs to come home because of the terrible headache, "said he had this headache before school...". Point taken woman, but I've had a headache for the last 22 years and no one has ever sent me off the pitch.

And now,

whinger toddler and child suffering a brain hemorrhage are laughing it up and eating Jalepeno Cheez-Its while watching Ice Age.

I've yet to take a shower.

Do I have "Fool" tattooed on my forehead?

I've Run Out of Scheduled Posts...

I've run out of scheduled posts...
and the computer switch isn't entirely complete. We're currently experiencing a mail mess because Gmail is determined to load as an IMAP instead of a pop account. All of my previous purging was for naught since my 17,000 emails on gmail's site decided to load.

Because of that, you're stuck with rambling...thanks for your patience, something I have none of so I admire greatly in others.

I have a little news regarding Son Number One.

Remember how I told you he was back in touch with the girl that devastated him? I was getting calls about how she was texting him and bumping into him frequently at work. She started going around his apartment and I considered buying tranquilizers by the case-load to keep myself from going bonkers with anxiety.

Well, she didn't let this Momma down. She did exactly what I warned him a drama addict would do by baiting him, hooking him and then letting him know she was going to give her relationship with someone else another go.

He was fed up and determined to get out of Dodge-- even though it meant leaving a good job with people who appreciate him.

He couldn't understand how I could predict her every move.
I never told him that she was me about 30 years ago. I was hooked to the roller coaster of off and on relationships-- the break up and the makeup was my crack. I thought that's what everyone did.
This addict is recovered now, but there's still a little crazy inside. I'm not above turning a man into a puppet if I need to, even if that man is my son.

Keep your lectures, my shame is shadowed by my success.

I just did the most manipulative thing I have ever pulled in my life on my poor boy.

His ex-girlfriend has remained his friend this whole time. She has put up with more cr@p than anyone should. I guess she is to Son #1 what he was to the Drama Queen, always right there whenever needed.

I heralded that.

It wasn't difficult to expound on all of C's attributes.

I reminded him how she was always welcome here and loved by the grandparents.

He was putty in my hands.

Last night on a Skype call, she was waving to me from the background. She's helping him move back to Nevada.

I'm a satisfied Momma.

Indoctrination

When did it happen?


When we flew over here in 2006, me heavily pregnant surrounded by 3 boisterous boys and one mercurial teenager, there was a strange ritual going on around us in the airport.
Hoards of people stood frozen in previously bustling pedestrian traffic areas with their faces all turned zombie-like towards large screens placed throughout the terminal.

It was frustrating.

They were completely unaware of anything happening around them and stood firm like blocks of concrete for us to maneuver around.

Weirdos. freaks.

The scary thing was that whatever was possessing them seemed contagious, as perfectly normal-looking people would come to a complete stop, luggage and all, to stand with the masses.

That was July 1st. On the 10th of July, something happened that spread like wildfire through every pub, store and news program. We watched it over and over on every channel... a violent act performed that held our gazes like a horrific accident on a freeway.

My rocket-building, computer-nerdy husband caught it. He bought some tickets to attend one of their gatherings and it all went south from there.
There were more tickets, radio subscriptions to keep up with live updates, clothing with advertisements (to draw more unsuspecting souls) and special events held to include children. Children!

I let it happen. I did it because I had a new baby in the house and quite honestly was willing to pay just about any price for some quiet Saturday afternoons.

Only, Sexy Guy wasn't satisfied just indoctrinating the boys. He began taking my innocent little daughter. He called it "you time", a "time to scrapbook". I didn't see the signs then, despite it being so clear now.

He bought into their membership. Hundreds of pounds of our funds went in to supporting this "cult".

2009 he deployed to Iraq. He worried that he wouldn't be able to keep up with updates and news of his "second family" (yeah, going into war-- this is what he worried about). He worried about his membership and the kids' membership fees going to waste,
so I BLINDLY stepped into his shoes.

When did it happen?

It seemed so innocent, a game here, a game there and now I am one of those freaks that will turn down dinner invitations, birthday parties, baby showers etc... if they're scheduled during a home match.
I wear their garish colours-- even though I'm a winter and bright green and yellow do not become me.

The first clue that I had a problem was last weekend, when leaving an away game with soaking wet hat and gloves and completely numb toes, beaming ridiculously as I stated, "This was the best day ever!"

Why would a woman who has given birth to five healthy children declare an away match as "the best day ever?"

• It had something to do with being within a few feet of him... (their stadium doesn't hold 26,000 like ours and they let us stand right next to the pitch--camera welcomed!)

• A little more to do with the fact that we annihilated the team that made a laughing stock of us in the Autumn (which resulted in the sacking--firing-- of our then manager and a goal keeper that has never seen the pitch since). "Eeee I Eeee I Eeee I Oh, Up the football League we go. When we win the title, this is what we'll sing: 'We are Norwich, Super Norwich, Lambert is our king!'"

• It could've been the excitement of watching one of the opposing team supporters jump a fence and cross the pitch to get at us and our 1900+ supporters-- only to be forcefully taken down, face first in the mud by the police (po-po shut him down).

• Or it might've been because as we were leaving the flooded car park, we came upon him (dreamy guy) and another player.

We offered Simon a lift across the car park,
even though there was no room in the car.

For a split second (or forty),
I was willing to put the kids out.


Yes,

this June/July I will be one of those zombie-like creatures with eyes glued to a screen. I doubt I'll see another Zinedine Zidane-type moment and I know I won't see Simon Lappin running his hairy, Scottish legs on the pitch, but it doesn't matter.

I've been brainwashed.

They Never Saw it Coming

At dinner

I asked each boy to pick his two favourite friends. Each kid willingly named two, except for the six-year old, who named four.

I told them to hold the image of those friends in their minds.

Then I picked out a really terrific event that each son could image he was going to-- with his two best friends.
One child was going to see a really awesome movie he's been talking about,
one was going to be a mascot-for-a-day for our favourite footy team and
the youngest boy was going to a fun zone area (with his four friends).

Me: "Now imagine I'm driving you and your two very favourite friends to that special event and Friend One says to Friend Two, 'You're really stupid'. Friend Two says, 'I am not stupid and you stink'. Friend One says, 'You always cry about everything' and crying friend replies, 'I hate you!'".

J2 says, "Oh... like me and A1".

Me: "Yes, like you and A1. Every day I can't wait for my three best friends to come home from their day at school.
I make sure I've finished all of my errands and all of my chores so that I can be standing up at the bus stops eagerly waiting to see your faces."

"I cheer when there's a snow day, I love school holidays, I LIKE being with you, but my best friends-- the people I love most in the world come home and call each other names and antagonize each other to anger or tears".

Very somber faces.

Poor kids, only a few minutes before they thought I was getting ready to let them take friends on some really cool outing.

At least I know I got my point across.





Still in computer switch-over mode , so no 365 this week, but I will happily bore you with photos next Thursday! (my itunes is only missing some parts to some albums and we haven't touched the photos yet-- fingers crossed).
I do want to clarify: Never at any time have I ever been unhappy with my Mac baby. We've been loyal mac owners since they were called apples and took up an entire desk. This switch is to improve space and speed for my continuing education-- you know, just in case you're considering a Mac and think I've had any problems with mine.

Sounds of Silence

It's quiet over here...

That's what happens when your second external hard drive (in one year) self-destructs.

I'll be back when my transfer over to the new Mac is complete... for now I am anxiously holding my breath. I have NEVER had a computer transfer that something wasn't lost. One time it was my son's incredible music he had composed. Of course he hadn't backed it up, he was fifteen and trusted us to protect him.

It might be a good idea to email if you haven't heard from me for a while-- the email address book was the first thing to lose last time. For now, just think of everything you can do without your mind In The Gutter.

We'll Speak, Because God Is Busy at the Moment

I've been wondering what I could say about Haiti that hasn't been said.

I felt awful sitting here in silence, but the devastation of thousands rocks me to to a stunned silence.

There's a song by Ingrid Michaelson:

"People are dying,
I close my blinds.
...I want to change the world,
instead,
I sleep".

That's me.
When things are too big, too painful to comprehend,
I hide my head under my covers and seek escape.


Even so, it always manages to find me

and eventually so does the expression from E. Burke,

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

My God, the God I know, has been slandered.
By a man who claims to speak in His behalf.

Because He is not here to defend Himself and since I'm busy wordlessly hiding (hoping time will reverse and the horrible devastation in Haiti will have never occurred) will you take a minute to see what Chris has to say about it?
I think he is a brilliant spokesperson and would be honoured to have him represent me in any slander case.

May God Bless the people in Haiti, the people trying to desperately get aid to Haiti, the leaders making decisions regarding Haiti and may He soften the hearts of the small-minded people who are still busy judging Haiti.




Addendum: I understand that remarks made by one individual regarding a curse upon Haiti was his way of asking people to pray that they would use this tragedy to turn to God. Those comments could be twisted any which way a reporter would choose to quote them. I understand that and did watch the original statement in it's entirety.
My post is in regards to the God some people believe in and the one I believe in. The post by Chris will make that clear, but in case you don't click on that link, I thought it should be mentioned.

PSF The Photo That Didn't Make The 365 Cut

Some days I shoot 40-50 photos. That was even before the 365 Project.
Other days I am looking through very sleepy eyes, aiming my lens at nonsense (that is a result of the 365). That's ok.

If I had to shoot only one subject for the rest of my life,
it would be my kids (kids does equal one subject, don't be so nit picky) and I'd never get tired of it. Luckily, they're used to me having a camera projecting from my face and can usually remain pretty natural.

"Natural" for this kid is silly, goofy faces--not all of them very attractive. His favourite thing is to wrinkle his lips, cross his eyes and getting irritatingly close. With his chest puffed out, he speaks in his best cockney, "C'mon then, c'mon then, wanna staht wi' me?"

I followed him around the winter wonderland our garden has become with the camera poised for that one glimmer of a natural, joyful smile.

I found it.

I could never get tired of photographing that.

8 thru 14

365 Photos



Photo 8
The snow kept coming. I woke up every morning probably more excited than my kids.

When I was a child, living in Northern Arizona (high desert),
I would wake nearly every winter morning in hopeful anticipation of possible snowfall while I had slept.
As I braced myself to look out my bedroom window, the first thing I could see was the flat roof of the house across the street. It was covered with those sparkling white rocks that only turquoise houses from the 60-70's could pull off with flare.
I'd catch my breath...snow?
No, rocks...
and my eyes would continue scanning down from the roof,
only to glimpse a disappointingly dry lawn--more times than not.

This winter here? Made up for all of the snow disappointments of my childhood.

Photo 9

I had no problems filling my photo quota.
I never committed to good or even interesting photos.
This is my driveway.
The one I am besotted with even though it needs a little cleaning up.
I probably have a minimum of forty shots of this drive
in every kind of weather.

Photo 10
Photos + kids = 107 photos (quit laughing, that was in two weeks, not one)
Sometime well into our new snow-blessed days,
it occurred to me we hadn't made snow cream.
The kids and I gorged ourselves on big bowls of sugary deliciousness.

It didn't stop them from eating the garden snow.


Photo 11
Fancy a game of Rummikub?
I've mentioned before that I have amazing luck and no one ever wants to play board games with me, even though I am at my happiest when someone will.
I don't care if I win or lose,
I really don't...which is good because
J2 has discovered another thing he's very good at.
He has taken to slaughtering me nightly now.

Photo 12
is my little Yoda Wannabe on a previous post. She's actually playing with a Zelda accessory piece for the Wii. A Christmas present for A1 last year. I believe her photo shoot was the
second time in a year that it was actually turned on.

Photo 13
What does one photograph when one has had an unbelievably rough day?
Envision a day with one child so difficult that you are considering buying stock in Duct tape. Imagine that her whining and screeching has set your nerves on hypersensitivity mode.
Try to imagine as 11.00pm rolls around
and all other children are in bed,
this particular child is still barking demands.
THAT is the time you realize no photos were taken to capture that craptastic day.
One shoots what one has.
(and yes Miss ky is a little big to be drinking with a sippy cup, but not at 11 pm when said cup is going to her bed-- I learned that lesson already)

Photo 14I lied yesterday.
My time to myself was stolen from me.
I spent over three hours with demands from my church calling and then the rest of the evening stewing about it.
I'm thinking maybe my blog should have been documenting the unraveling of a Relief Society President, but thought it better not to bore you.
Instead I have been silly a lot when I wasn't feeling very silly.

Today began with a 7am text whinging about yesterday. It was negative.
The person was angry (not at me) and started my day off just right.
Later, after racing home from a 2 1/2 hour R.S. meeting so that
the hubby could leave for work without a Miss Ky,
I discovered the little busy one's handy work.

I treasure finds like this because it makes me slow down and think,

• "What was her vision?"

• "What did she have running through her 3 year-old mind as she placed each card inbetween the dvds?"

• "What was her Dad doing at the time?"

365 -- Give it a go people, never too late to start humiliating yourselves
with mundane photos once a week.


Thanks Chris, you are fantabulous for hosting!

Hosted by Chris

Trainable

Tomorrow is the unveiling of the week's photos (for the 365 Photo challenge).

You thought I'd quit already, didn't you!

Actually, I not only haven't quit, but I have already exhibited signs of neurosis. The other night after everyone else had gone to bed, I was outside in the snow in my bare feet, just to get a shot... not my best photo or smartest idea. I'm betting the Christmas lights could've waited the extra five minutes it would take to get my shoes on.

I learned. maybe.

Also,

I did it. I listened. To the advice given about a week ago.

No more people sucking the life out of me! This doormat is now

unavailable

for whinging, whining, backstabbing/tattling or unsolicited advice on Mondays and Wednesdays.

My phone will NOT be answered --only exception being if it's one of the whinging, whining, tattling people I gave birth to.
That unbreachable period is now all mine while Miss Ky is in school on those days.

I will be updating my education with my new found time, since the college degree I have has been technologically left behind in the LaBrea Tar Pits (it's sooo outdated).

This may not sound like fun to you, "going back to school" (loosely using this term since it's just me and my computer) but it's in Photoshop Cs4 and Lightroom 2...hee hee, I'm giddy with thoughts of a numb backside and crossed eyes.
When I was taking computer graphics (back in the...), the computers took up most of the room and rendering a 30-second project could take a few days. I am excited, but mostly I'm tired of looking stoopid and asking for help all of the time when I have accumulated many, very expensive, university credit hours in all of this.

Perfect example of why I should hone my fine computer skillz:

Today I was making new ring tones.

Funky little upbeat songs (since I dread my phone ringing now). It was time, because this morning when my mobile rang, I almost answered my BISHOP's call, "Hi sweetheart!"
Somehow his ring tone had changed to the default, which just happens to be J2's favourite hip hop as well. That would've been awkward.

For some reason, one snappy little piece just would NOT transfer onto my phone. I called in the Nerd Squad (aka Sexy Guy), who questioned me about "how the file was named, where the file was kept" (all checked out, thankyouverymuch) and finally decided the best thing to do was sync the iphone.

Perfect.

Except it was going soooo sloooooow.

Me: "Um... it's going really slow."

Dude with worry lines growing deeper than the Grand Canyon: "Yeah. It is."

Me: "Oh! Where'd my music go?"

Dude with very surprised look on his face: "Uh... I don't really know."

Me, beginning to panic as the multi-coloured graph of media begins to grow smaller: "W h e r e d i d my v i d e o s j u s t g o?!"

He clicks back to the front page where no longer is the box "manage music manually" ticked.

Dude with the look of one who is wishing a tornado would whip him out of the room before he has to utter his next sentence: "They're gone".

I fought tears.

Music could be reloaded.

Movies, reloaded.

Disney World videos taken on my iphone of J2's birthday... tears.






Luckily,
they're still there.
They were hiding like smart little home movies should--in my photo files. Whew!

Who knows?
With my new found "me" time I may just figure out how to create my own custom In The Gutter blog design!
If my blog just vanishes one day, it's probably an indication that I got a little too confident and started mixing it up a bit.



Real quick...
what's on your phone, camera, computer (cassette recorder?) RIGHT NOW that's irreplaceable?

Size Matters Not

Look at me.

Judge me by my size, do you?

Hmm? Hmm.

And well you should not.

For my ally is the Force,


and a powerful ally it is.

It Tickled

I laughed,
I thought I'd die.
I died.
They buried me,
they covered me with sand.
It tickled,
I laughed,
I thought I'd die...

You know the fun song you used to annoy your mother with?

Here's another version:

I read,
so I could comment,
and your blog inspired me.
I posted,
you commented,
you deserve response...

I read,
so I could comment
and your blog inspired me.
I posted,
you commented...


My public service announcement for the day:

Some well-loved blogger, with an eye for fabulous photography and the ability to make one laugh and cry within a few sentences, has agreed to host a place for our 365 Photo fun we're having. He felt he had to since HE was the inspiration. Swing over and give Chris your thoughts if you're wanting to join in.

Last,
we had a terrible scare in our house today.








we lost internet for most of the day! Thanks, we're ok now, no need to send food or flowers.

Sports Fanatics Missing Common Sense Gene

Sexy Guy is tapping his foot.
He's waiting not-so-patiently for me to get in the shower and get ready.

Because today, our football team is one of the ONLY two matches in the
entire country that is being played.

This is why. You are looking at Nasa's view of the UK right now.

We have undersoil heating our pitch.


That's great for the guys running around in their cute little shorts in -5c temperatures, but I'm going to be sitting in the stands concentrating on the cold permeating the marrow of my bones.


Luckily Miss Ky has some sane people in her life and they've insisted we leave her behind with them. In their warm house. Why didn't they request my company as well?



Hubby will be layered.
Unfortunately he thinks he's layering in his woolen blend undershirt that I wore while building my snowman the other day.


Hopefully I'll slip on the way out the door and hurt myself so that I can stay home.

Author's front garden at the time of this writing... Perfect day for a drive to a football game.

Weren't Computers Designed to Help Us Save Time?

O holy cow, I'm now following myself. How does that happen? I don't want notification when I post something-- I'm usually there when it happens.

And what's with the "friends" thing now? Followers can't be friends?
"Hey, this is Stacey, she's my follower, and these people are my friends".

Like I don't have enough pressure with the following thing, now I have to send out friend requests?!

Is this going to get as crazy as Farce Book?

There I get friend requests from people I don't recognize so I don't accept (if you want to be friends you might want to include a note so that I know "Laura Smith" is "The Bowlegged Frog Rider" from "Happy Croakers Blog", the connection isn't automatic for me).

I also get friend requests I do recognize, like my abusive ex-boyfriend who once dragged me through a rain puddled parking lot by my hair and ended the relationship not long after by nearly choking me to death (the nice men in uniforms assisted him from my home).
I didn't accept.
I didn't except my husband's ex-girlfriend request either. That's just awkward.

Where does the time come from to manage this new friend sidebar gadget? Where do the Blogger/ FB people come up with the time they use to invent all of these things that are driving me to the point of needing professional help?



Yesterday's comments made me feel SO much better about my email mess. Thank you, I'm so happy that I'm normal! (cough)
I'll forget all of this cleaning up and just transfer the mess over. Time saved...


Time lost...this computer does help me waste time searching for bargains.

Yesterday Amazon had a Gold Box Deal for a Wii exercise program advertised as a "special discounted price" for $20.00 MORE than I could get it elsewhere. Hmmmm.

Today on our local base "For Sale" site, there's this ad:

"Cheap camera bag for sale. Its a Lowepro Fastpack 250 only used twice...can hold all your stuff plus camera, two lenses, and your notebook. Pictures are upon request. $100.00".

Now, are they selling a cheap camera bag for a hundred dollars or are they selling a camera bag cheaply --for a hundred dollars? The second option doesn't really make sense when I can buy one new, unused with a receipt for returns for $107.00

I would love to continue exposing my true (impatient) nature, but I have to figure out how to drop myself off as a follower. Because seriously? Time is precious and I wouldn't be sitting here reading this if I didn't have to.

The Reason I Am Not Posting

I am not posting today, because I am moving.

I know what you're thinking, "Again?!"
Stop shouting at me. Yes, again.


I am moving from one mac to another.
Feeling sheepish for being so critical? Don't. Read on...

So, 2300+ emails HAVE to finally come off the computer (I know, I know!).

I have to delete 4039 sent messages-- many with attachments. Stop already, I know.

We all know I hoard. I treasure. I love reading, I like words, communication is important to me.

I have one folder just of my husband's deployments. His emails to me, mine to him. I stopped keeping a journal when he left the first time and I use my emails for milestone information and every day kid silliness.

There's emails from bloggers, comments I'd like to return when I have more than 5 minutes a day to myself. Gasp... how will I ever catch up? I can't even begin to tell you of the Sunday Lesson helps, photography tips and news blurbs that have never even been read.
Picture my email in box looking a little like my bedside table-- stacked with things I really want to read when my eyes aren't crossing from exhaustion.

How do you keep your email program tidy? Where do you find the time to do it?

A Penny Saved... is a Missed Opportunity

What are you saving your china for?

or that secret box of gourmet chocolates?

The tablecloth that comes out once a year?

The quilt your grandma made?

When will you use it?



Are you hoping to pass it down, in pristine condition, to your children...

who won't use it?



I collect Spode Blue Italian (oh, and Royal Doulton Norfolk pattern too if you're keeping tabs for next Christmas).

I USE it.
We eat on the plates and even my gardener drinks from my cups. I don't freak out when I hear them clink a little roughly when being put away.

In 2008 I sent my mother a Spode tea cup and saucer.

When I was a young adult and she was a young-ish widow, we'd sit in the morning sun and have a hot drink together. We'd joke that we were "celebrating the moments of our lives".

I wanted her to use that cup and imagine we were not only on the same continent, but in the same kitchen.
She said she loved it.

This year I happened on a Blue Italian Tea for One (little tea pot with cup). I was thrilled because Spode went under about a year ago and stopped making anything-- of course that sent people into a panic and they shopped until I dropped (they have since been "financially assisted" by a different company and have resumed producing my pattern, but so far it's mostly the basic pieces, nothing like candle sticks).

I saved that tea pot and cup for 5 months and then lovingly wrapped it and mailed it to my mother for Christmas.

When I asked her about it... she said, "Oh yes, it's beautiful! I had (my step dad) put it up with all of my other tea pots for me".

Wha...?!

I clarified that she had placed this gift up high where she couldn't reach it and truthfully, can't even really see it without straining. I'm willing to bet she even kept it in the box.

I could cry.

I would have used it. I would have let my children use it.

Thirty or forty years from now, I can envision my children sitting around their own tables with a mismatched, chipped or cracked dinner set remembering the times we had used it as a family. Long after I am gone, my children will know which quilts my Granny made for me because they see them now on my bed. I don't allow them to drag them around the house like the other blankets, but her quilts are lovingly used.

Please

save a child from neglect,

save your friend from making a terrible mistake.

save the harsh critisism even though your husband has set himself up for it,

but for Pete's sake,

USE your treasures while you're here to use them!





At least use the ones your daughter sent you.

362- Gifts

My daily photo...

Wait, first--

Great Britain is experiencing its coldest winter in 2 decades. I am enjoying the most winter-like winter I've ever had in my lifetime. Gorgeous. (let's see if I'm still saying that as I stand at two bus stops, on ice, waiting for the sun to come up).
Admittedly, I'm not out in this glorious winter much, but when I am I can't get over how beautiful it is.

Today I set out in -5c, icy road conditions to do a little grocery shopping (since school goes back in session tomorrow and I thought my kids might be tired of party foods I've been feeding them for four days).
I came upon downed power lines and slid nicely to a stop before hitting them-- good thing I was going slow and it wasn't night! I took a photo before deciding my new route.

You won't see that one though, not very interesting.

The diversion took me past a lady standing by what was left of her car. She said she was going slow when she lost control and began sliding, but I could see her windshield cleaner-- there was no car left to shield me from looking at her engine. The poor woman was just trying to get to the dentist for a check up. That'll be one expensive check up.

I didn't take a picture of that either-- come on, I'm not that obtuse to take photos of an elderly lady standing in the snow while waiting for a tow truck.

I made it to the base with enough time to stand in a queue for 20 minutes at the mail window. Do you think it's unreasonable to expect more than one person in the pick-up window on the first working day following two holidays?

This was waiting for me.

That's a beautiful apron with a nice roomy pocket under it all.

Isn't he adorable?

I entered the Secret Ornament Exchange over at Valerie's It's a Wonderful Life. My partner made the Thanksgiving deadline, however, she shipped from Canada and as our APO system would have it, it meant her package traveled to the states first and then here to England. So, it wasn't here for Christmas but I'm just happy to have a nice surprise to start the New Year--and truthfully, it would've gotten lost in the chaos had it come earlier.
I love all things snowmen and I LOVE cooking with my Aga, so I think Sandy from Aging Disgracefully nailed it, don't you?
Thank you Sandy, I am thrilled to bits! Sorry our military post had you wondering where your package went.

The ornament I sent was to Euissa who had stated that she didn't care for Santas, Snowmen or anything glass. She had mentioned somewhere that she liked birds and I was lucky enough to find some adorable little birds in one of my favourite shops. It was funny when I checked her blog to see if she had received them (she's in Australia), she had posted about birds she had sewn for the person she was gifting-- they looked very similar to the ones I sent (mine were paper mache-ish).

I love these little exchanges. I wanted to host an ornament exchange, but by the time I got around to it, there were too many out there. Valentine's Day is a little too close now as well... maybe a St. Paddy's Day exchange? We could send each other cabbage.

Oh...

that's right,

I was going to show you photo 362 (which is actually the fourth--can I stop numbering yet?).


This is the wonderful view that I am fortunate enough to enjoy daily on my drive home. Today was the first time that I noticed how the bridge's arch frames the tree in the field.
THAT is why I am doing this 365 Photo challenge.

I am training myself to see again.

Today I have a challenge for you, should you chose to accept.
Open your eyes and really see something you usually just pass without thinking...
and then share...
The starving look in your children's eyes as you blog doesn't count (because I saw it here first).

363- Everything I Needed was on My Kitchen Counter

When picking up a new magazine, newspaper, craft book etc... I will always turn immediately to the back. I flip the pages from back to front--"always have, always..." "old dog-new tricks" "leopard's spots" and so on.

My photos will therefore be titled backwards. My 363rd picture is actually my third shot even though there are 365 days. You still with me?
Me neither, but some big dummy created a folder and renamed photos and now it's more trouble to go back and change everything. Yes, I realize it's only three photos, but it's done.

So,

photo 363, taken today when I looked up at the fading light and said, "Oh, oops, I need to shoot a photo!".
I donned my wellies (and my very attractive coat bearing my kids' football team emblem) over my church dress and crunched out into the snow covered fields.

I saw deer prints-- this deer has been eating plutonium or something because the prints are HUGE-- no deer though. There were mole holes, but they were nothing compared to what dots my garden. Birds were sparse, they must've been away for the holidays or something. Even the pigeons were scarce.

I carefully focused on clumps of ice balanced on dark green strands of grass, glistening in the last golden rays of the day. I took 3 photos with different white balance settings. Auto was boring, shade was warm and reflected the warmth of the setting sun, tungsten gave it a nice cold, bluish hue.

My walkabout took me through the fields surrounding the house and lead me familiarly back into my own garden-- where I finally got my shot. An odd angle of the mossy bottom of a pot holding the last of the summer heather.

I quickly headed into the house to upload my accomplishment and impulsively shot a picture of the flowers my friend brought to me on New Year's Day.
They remind me of the watercolour I painted for my mother while I was in college... the painting she hung in her room where the Arizona sunlight eventually erased all traces of colour.

But these flowers?
I captured them in a format that will never fade...


I could've saved a little bit of frozen toes if I had just stood in my kitchen for today's photo.

What did you do with your few extra minutes of sunlight today?

Happy New Year-- You've Been Warned

Remember NaBloPoMo? Posting EVERY day for 30 days...
I don't learn.

I have committed to the 365 day challenge (I'd love to link to the sadist creative soul that comes up with these challenges, but I have no idea where it originated--let me know if you came up with it and would like your credit).

I will be shooting at least one photo everyday for a year. That's 365 days of unrestrained creative expression.



Oh stop cringing, I didn't say I'd POST one photo every day.
My friend Chris did this challenge and came up with some pretty amazing shots in desperate times (like a photo of the ice cream sunday he was eating around 11.50 pm). Bombastic Bandicoot is trying it this year-- her enthusiasm is what made me start thinking about it (blame her).

So,

now that you know you won't be suffering through each photo, reading that announcement back is pretty funny isn't it? I'm committing to do something I already do-- me and my Nikon implant I also use as a right arm.

My first photo of 2010?
Sure I'll post it, thanks for asking.

New Year's Eve in London.
Loads of people, streets blocked off, tube station put on hold, river closed down, freezing conditions.
The fireworks on the Thames, appearing as if they were springing from the London Eye and lighting up the clock tower. Amazing.

Only wish I were there instead of photographing the event on my telly.

Yep. The quality I will come up with under pressure to perform.
Here's to 364 more exciting photos like this one. Happy 20TEN.