Add another one to the list...

Earthquake.

That's right, folks.  Oklahoma is no longer just the place where the wind just comes sweepin' down the plain.  That'd be far too easy.  We now have had, in the past couple of years, the following natural disasters:

1.  Heat waves.  Those go without saying.
2.  Ice storms.  These occasionally cause us to go for a week or more without electricity, which I don't recommend, especially if you have a deep freeze full of meat or a fish tank full of fish.
3.  Tropical storm leftovers from the Gulf.  Hermine was the latest.
4.  Floods/flash floods.  See #3, though these happen more often.
5.  Blizzards.  Like the one we had last Christmas Eve, which made for a FANTASTIC white Christmas where I didn't actually have to go anywhere or entertain anyone, which is my goal for this year, too.  I just haven't worked out how to convince the family that this notion isn't just a notion.
6.  Tornadoes.  Those go without saying, too.
7.  Road construction.  OK, OK, so it's a manmade disaster, but it's definitely a disaster.  Anyone around here, if asked, will be more than willing to have a good rant about this particular asinine and interminable process.
8.  Earthquakes. 

Now, historically speaking, Oklahoma averages about an earthquake a week, but they're hardly ever felt.

Till this year. 

This year alone, I can think of more than half a dozen instances where earthquakes have been felt by humans and hit the news.  They're all down near this 'new'(?) fault line near Oklahoma City, so I've never felt them that I'm aware of, though I swear there are times when I feel the couch shake and wonder.  But then again, we have train tracks near our house that occasionally cause the windows to rumble, so I can't be sure, and I've never tried to correlate one to the other.

Today, though, was different.

Last night the kids decided they wanted to go spend the night at Grandma's house.  M1 picked up the phone and called and asked if they could come and got the okay.  Never mind that they'd be missing a trip to the pumpkin patch this morning; Grandma's house well and truly trumped that.  I couldn't argue with a trip to see family, could I?  So they packed up their bags, they left, and I spend the rest of the evening alternating my time between the couch and the bathroom with the migraine from Hades that caused me to spend a good chunk of time offering the contents of my digestive system to the porcelain goddess.  In short, it was a miserable evening.  I finally woke up from my mostly unconscious state on the couch just long enough to stagger to bed.  I think Oz slept elsewhere, though I'm not entirely sure.  I was completely out until about 9 a.m., when all of a sudden I sat straight up in bed, wide awake, and watched the dresser, bed, and TV stand shake.

Now, my first thought was "cat" because Hermes loves to jump up on top of the dresser, which is about 6-1/2 feet tall, and then when he decides to get down, sometimes he launches himself onto the bed.  But he was nowhere to be seen, and how could that make the TV stand shake, too?  He's a solidly built cat, but he's not THAT heavy. 

My second thought was "earthquake," but since I'd never felt one before, I dismissed that, too.  Which left me with a puzzle that I didn't feel the need to sort out since a shower was more pressing.  Thank heaven for shampoo and hot water and soap.

Anyway, I got myself up and around, released the chickens from their coop, poured a giant cup of coffee and helped myself to a cinnamon roll, and sat down to finish a library book.  IN PEACE.  It was lovely.  Silence is golden.

I finished the book and decided to check and see how Facebook was doing, because I'm an addict and can't live without being connected to my friends.  Facebook is an enabler.

THAT was when I realized that it WAS an earthquake that I'd felt.  Egad.  I can't decide whether to be excited that I actually felt an earthquake or worried that they seem to be getting stronger.  Right now, excited is winning.  I reported my experience to the USGS on their web site and am now pondering the necessity of going down into the storm shelter to make sure it didn't sustain any damage.  It was an EARTHquake, after all.  And what, I wonder, does one do when one lives in a land where the earthquake could, in theory, collapse the tornado shelter??

The Belated Birthday Post

My son - my baby boy and the little person who turned me from a woman into a mom - turned 8 yesterday.  I meant to get on here earlier, but time and children got away from me.  Please accept this as a belated substitute.

-----

Dear Son,

You made me a mom.  I remember the day well.  It was gray but not cold outside.  I don't know why, but I kept hoping the weather would turn cold, or snow, or do something to commemorate the day.  It didn't seem to me that it could possibly be a 'normal' day.  Not with my baby coming into the world.

You had no intentions of being born, because you had no inclination to interact with humanity.  Now that I know how your brain works, I understand why.  Oz and I had gone to a restaurant for dinner the night before, excited and scared about what the next day would bring.

I vaguely remember you being born. 

I definitely remember the minute your daddy and the nurses and grandmothers told me you had 12 fingers and 12 toes, and I remember that everyone was worried that I would see those as a problem, as my fault, as something 'wrong' with you.  Instead, I only loved you more for your specialness.  You were my baby boy whose bald head glowed red in the evening haze, and nothing could change that!

I've loved watching you grow.  Even during the difficult times, you've been a delight.

Your imagination blossomed early.  You loved to dress up, even if you didn't have a name for what you were.

Your goal has always been to make people smile.  You love it when you get a joke or a prank over on Daddy and I and we laugh.  It doesn't happen often, because you have a unique sense of humor that causes you to laugh a lot at things that other people wouldn't find funny, but YOU understand the joke, and that makes me happy.  Might I suggest British humor?  I can't wait to introduce you to Monty Python.  I suspect you and John Cleese would get along charmingly, vegetarians and tall people that you both are or will be.

You love it when I join in the fun, too.

You've always had a smile for everyone, too.  You don't always know why you're smiling, though, so a genuine smile and laugh out of you is completely infectious.  You are one of those people who have the special gift of lighting up an entire room when you come into it.  You can inspire others to action.  I hope that you can channel this to positive means as you get older!

Your eyes are powerful tools.  You don't often make full eye contact, but when you do, there's a pull there, a plea, something that brings people into your own special world.  Your eyes are beautiful. 

You're not afraid to be silly...

or charming...

... or totally at ease with yourself and the world.  You definitely don't worry about what anyone else thinks, and that's a good thing!

That never-fear and never-say-die attitude is one of my favorite things about you.  You're not afraid to try something new, and you believe in doing the unexpected.  You love to experiment, and while that gets you in trouble from time to time (the wall is still not to have holes in it, son!), I admire your spirit.

You've always gone full speed ahead into what ever project you've decided to undertake...

... whether it's experimenting in mud...

... seeing what you can make animals do...

... trying out kindergarten...

... making a snowman without ANY help, thank you very much...

... cooking new recipes for the family...

... or, as of two nights ago, testing your hand at archery.

I'm proud to be your mom.  I'm proud of all you are, all that you have been, and all that you will be.  I don't worry about your future, because you are such a strong person.  I can only hope that you will continue to be who you are.

Nothing else would ever do.

Love,

YOUR MOM

Being Use...less

I have absolutely nothing of any importance to say or share this evening.  Except for the fact that my son is now the proud owner of a set of snap circuits (from my mom) and a beginner compound bow with three arrows (from my dad).  Twelve more arrows are on the way.  And it couldn't be important at all that my afternoon was spent making miniature cupcakes topped with things that look remarkably like roaches but are, in fact, created with dates, caramels, M&Ms, and chocolate icing.  Pictures to follow tomorrow, of course.

The children spent their day being children.  Mostly that means that they spent the day trying to figure out how to get out of wearing pants when they were supposed to and whining about not having pants when they were all in the laundry.  They also might have successfully de-limbed a good chunk of a pine tree in an effort to create a 'hidey hole.'  Who knew that between an 83-pound 8-year-old-tomorow and a 56-pound 5-1/2-year-old, limbs 3-4 inches across can be stripped from a healthy, solid tree?  Live and learn. 

I also learned that yellow jackets can climb your leg and feel remarkably like a cat tail rubbing across your shin until you look down and shake it off because you're freaking out thinking it's a spider, and then the thing FLIES across the room which causes still MORE freaking out because OMG flying spider.

The bottom of a plastic coffee mug can come in handy when yellow jackets land on your kitchen window and you have nothing else handy.

Tomorrow, my son turns 8.  M2 is jealous because his birthday is first and that's just not fair in her world.  She's also quite upset because he's not having a party, and by party I mean inviting 15+ children over to shriek and run around the house and yard with crafts and games planned out.  M1 is quite happy with having his two best friends over to (theoretically) spend the night in the back yard in the tent.  They are also going to make foil food packets and grill them.  Boy Time Extraordinaire. 

They might also watch Iron Man 2 if they can settle enough.

It's hard to believe it's been eight years since I became a mom, but THAT is another post for tomorrow.  When I have a Mike's in my hand and boys rampaging through the house.

Oh, no...

My baby boy turns 8 in 41 hours and 30 minutes.

Approximately.

WAHHH!!!!

'Tis the Season

Halloween is nigh!  The skinny black cat that scales my china cabinet like it's a fabric-covered couch (which it isn't) has informed me so.

The calendar has, too, but who pays attention to the calendar?  That would remind me that there are only 78 days till Christmas, and I don't need to know that.  It just adds to the mental pile of compost that is growing in my head.  I'm just hoping someday all this poo will become useful.

What I really need to know is that there are 25 days till Halloween and three days till my son's birthday.  That's the important stuff.

I love Halloween.  I love the pagan roots, I love the idea that there is a day when spirits can connect with loved ones (a la Dia de los Muertes), I love the origins of trick-or-treating in a revelry of triumph over the Devil before All Saints' Day... the whole shebang.  The best part is that nobody trick-or-treats at my house because we live in an area sans sidewalks, so I never have to worry about missing kids, and we can all go out together as a family.

And I *REALLY* love decorating.

It's kind of an obsession with me.  I have a ton of Halloween decor, but every year I feel the need to add something new.

So a month or so ago, I went to Yankee Candle* and spent entirely too much money on things like this.  Isn't it darling??

I also picked up the 'blood'-dripping candles to go with my black leaves and light-up jack-o-lanterns and ghostie.  The ghostie is M1's favorite decoration.  He thinks it's his.  I think he's wrong.  In LOLcat speak, I have informed him that all Halloweens are belong to me.  He simply raised an eyebrow.

I also may have a thing for candles.  The candy corn is real.  Oz hates that he is not allowed to touch it until after the holiday is over.  If I let him at it, he'd have it emptied every day or two, so I just let him get extra bags of candy corn while he waits for this to become available. 

This is one of my favorite displays this year.  One of three.  Honestly, this is the best year of Halloween decorating I've ever had.  I usually hang the fake blood on the window opposite this mirror in the dining room, but it didn't seem right to me.  So I put it on the mirror this year, topped it with the leaves, and then told M1 to go rummage through my makeup and find some red lipstick.  Unfortunately I had tossed my hooker lipstick in the trash when I was purging a few months ago, but I think this sufficed.  The kids are still trying to figure out what 'REDRUM' means.  I'm not telling.  When they're old enough to read "The Shining," then they can learn.  No sense scaring the pee out of them before it's necessary.

I love my front porch display this year, too.  The pumpkin lights you see at the bottom of the stairs extend almost all the way out to the driveway.  There are spiders that light up hanging on the wall, cling ghosts on the screen door (M2's favorite part of decorating), a broom by the door with a sign above it saying, "BEWARE!" and of course the tombstone.  Mr. Pumpkin up by the glider does light up, and the ghost on the left can be turned on for sound activation, at which time he flies across the porch.  Now all I need are a few *real* spiderwebs to crop up.  It'll happen.  It always does.  We get monster spider webs around here.

Last but definitely not least are my Department 56* figurines.  I was taken with them when I visited my friend Bridgette up in Indiana a couple years ago and bought my first house.  This year Oz and my mother have given me three more between them.  I'm in decorating heaven.  I can't wait to get a few more small items to flesh out the display.  Here's a sampling of what I have:

The 'Pumpkin Lane' sign was blank originally, but it already had a name on it
when I purchased it off of eBay.  I have no problems with that because I like it!

My first/original purchase.  A flickering light inside and bats that
spin around the top add tons of personality to this haunted house.

This piece has been discontinued, yet Oz found it for me. 
The roof glows green when the lights are turned on!

I love having a school.  Love the belfrey.

Hello, freak show!  The monster there is silhouetted beautifully
when the lights are on, and the kids love staring at all the monsters.

Happy Haunting, everyone!!

*Yankee Candle and Department 56 have never heard of me.  But if they hear of me now and want to send me free stuff, I'd be okay with that.

Stop! Family time.

I learned the other day that Oz, while he did take a few German classes, did not actually learn words that would enable him to interpret the phrase, "Halt!  Hammerzeit!" and, ergo, did not understand the giggles that particular phrase elicited from me.

A couple weeks ago, Oz's dad and stepmom came down from upstate Pennsylvania to visit.  It had been a while since we had gone up to visit and much longer than anyone else had seen them, so we all spent as much time as possible together.  On their last Saturday here, we all got together at Oz's grandmother's house for a family barbecue. 

Part of the job of Oz's brothers was to make fun of Oz for his stepmom's injuries.  See her hand?  That's the tip of the iceberg.  She fell off a step leaving our house on Monday and hurt her wrists, fingers, knee, leg, ankles... you name it, she probably injured it.  Bless her heart, she didn't let on a word to us about all the damage until Thursday because she didn't want Oz to be upset.  All he knew was that she had fallen.  She's a sweetie.

Oz's dad is a good man.  He's always so proud of all his boys and loves his grandbabies.  And he's the cameraman. 

Here's Grandma talking to M2 about purses and gifts and all things girly.  Grandma always has something up her sleeve for her kiddos.  She is the only person whom M2 will listen to when she gets her fit on, so we love Grandma dearly.

Gotta have a picture of the brothers.  Oz is the oldest, on the left.  Then comes the guy in the striped shirt, the guy in the red shirt, and last but definitely not least, the guy in the gray shirt.  Bocce was the name of the game this time.  Last time, it was horseshoes.  Somewhere in one of the houses, a rugby ball lives although I think the boys haven't broken that out in years.

Brothers will be brothers, and family is family, even if we do only get to really get everyone together once every couple of years!

Why Retirees Move South

That frost advisory the meteorologists issued last night wasn't a joke.  I should have turned on the heater before I went to bed to get that stinky first-use funk out of the air, but that would have required foresight, which is clearly something I lack. 

I'm not all that great about thinking ahead sometimes.

The kids had a fun time in the van this morning watching the above-dash thermometer drop like a rock.  *INSIDE* the garage, it was 64 degrees.  By the time we got to the end of our street, about a mile away, the thermometer read 39.  It came up to 44 by the time we got to the school and dropped back down to 39 when we got home.

Hm.

That sort of temperature change explained a lot to me in terms of why our daffodils always bloom and our blackberries always ripen a week or two later than everyone else's.  I'd never thought about the fact that I kind of live in a tiny little valley as having that much of a difference, but maybe I'm wrong. 

Wrong, you say? 

It's been known to happen!

I have never, ever been a big fan of cold weather, though, and as I'm getting older, I'm realizing why.

My hands cease to function.

Typing this now, while the house is being heated to 68 degrees (yes, I'm stingy like that, and the thermometer will remain at that temperature for the duration of winter, no matter how much Oz gripes... maybe), my right hand is stiff.  It's been that way since my high school days when we had to be outside, no matter what the temperature, at 7 a.m. for band rehearsal.  Thick gloves aren't an option when you're playing flute.  The rest of us used to hate the trombone section for getting to wear gloves that actually kept their hands warm while the rest of us suffered (at least until Friday nights, when they had to wear the uniform gloves like the rest of us... bwa ha haaaaa).  But I remember being completely unable to separate my fourth and fifth fingers on my right hand for a good 45 minutes every morning due to cold.  My greatest fear was that the director would call on me to play and I wouldn't be able to hold the E-flat key on the flute without also hitting the third-finger key. I certainly couldn't take notes in history afterward. 

I broke that right fourth finger sometime in elementary school (I think that one was due to a basketball hitting it right on the end during a pool party; it's either that or a basketball hitting it on the end in gym class, but I'm pretty sure that was my left pinkie), and it's never been quite the same since those two fingers were taped together.  There's still a little bit of a weird bend at the end where the break was.  Gotta love scar tissue.

At any rate, I hate the cold.  Despise it.  I also hate humidity, but I'll take that and 100+-degree heat over being cold any day.  People (Oz) tell me I can always add layers, but that's not true!  I can't make pie with gloves on, and pie is an essential part of fall.  I can't go pee with five layers of clothing on my bottom.  I can't shower clothed (though thankfully, the bathroom heater helps me not to turn instantly into an icicle after that particular daily episode).  I don't like having to bundle up to go out to the mailbox, and I'm really not looking forward to running out each evening in subfreezing weather to close up the chicken coop. 

And we don't have a fireplace.

Details, man.

I can now add "don't like having stiff hands" to my list of dislikes about cold weather.

I also don't like feeling old, but that's pretty much the same thing.  I fear arthritis.  I don't know for sure that that's what this is, but even if it's not, it's no bueno.

Maybe I'll make like the hummingbirds and butterflies and Canada geese and robins and all the other animals of superior intelligence and move south for the winter.  Someone text me when it's time to move back north.  Maybe my hands will be thawed by then.

What a day...

It's been a long day.  Most of it was fantastic.  The ending has been sad.

We got up and took the kids to the fair this morning.  Another friend of mine had posted on Facebook that she had been planning to go, but her spouse was headed out of town for work and she was hunting for someone to go with her and help her corral the herd.  I called her up.  We agreed to meet, let the kids play together (they've hardly seen each other lately), and just generally hang out. 

It was a blast.  The kids behaved beautifully, we found lots of FREE stuff for them to do, and another friend of mine had given me some ride tickets so that when the kids did decide they wanted to ride a couple of rides, they were free, too.  And of course we ate things like fried cheese, twirly fried potatoes, and chocolate-dipped cheesecake on a stick.  Giving yourself indigestion is a fairground requirement. 

Other highlights:

1. We found the picture of M2.  She posed for a picture with her picture and then ran off to play with Legos.  Kids will be kids!
2.  I got to see the Oklahoma State Sugar Art Show, which has been featured on Food Network in the past.  And yes, Kerry Vincent was there and signing autographs.  She was wearing a black dress and that headdress thing she seems to prefer.  She seemed very polite and gracious to everyone who spoke to her.  I was not one of those people.
3.  The kids got to see newborn piglets in the birthing center.  They were adorable.  If only they'd stay that way!  There was also video of a foal being born, which I think grossed M2 out a bit.  Her face was priceless.

After we came home, the kids got along all afternoon, hiding out in the hall and playing quietly.  They had dinner and went to bed with little to no fuss.  Seemed like a perfect day.

Then I went to go close up the chicken coop... and discovered Speed Bump, our Corgi, standing over a hen he'd gotten ahold of.  Feathers were everywhere, and what was worse, the poor girl was still alive.  I got Oz, who reprimanded the dog (again... I'd already done it once) and took care of the chicken, and I realized that the girls are no longer going to get to run around the yard.  At least, they won't get to run around any more as long as Bump is in the back yard.  They have a nice, good-sized yard around their coop, but even so, it won't be the same.

*sigh*

I'm not too distraught about the loss of the chicken, though.  I'm sad because I had successfully raised these girls from chicks and they were just starting to lay eggs - we sold our first dozen to Oz's boss this week.  The eggs were small, but he was thrilled to get them.  In another way, I'm okay with it.  We hadn't lost one yet, and the inevitable happens in the country.  They weren't pets, so the attachment wasn't there.  Honestly, the worst part is going to be telling the kids.  They'll be sad, and I'm sure M1 will cry, but they don't have the attachment, either, so it shouldn't be as bad as when, say, a cat dies.

No matter what, though, it ended the day on a sad note.

Frost advisory tonight - the first of the season.  I suppose that is poetically appropriate.  Thank heaven for fuzzy socks and blogs; in other words, things that are good for the soul.

Happiness

I know happiness means many different things to many different people, but I like the philosophy that true happiness is simply lack of pain (of course, that begs the question of how do you know you're happy if you've never felt pain, but that's another post).  That being the case, I've had a fairly happy day.

Happiness is...

... your husband getting up with the kids....

... and taking them to Target...

... and buying you replacement bulbs for the outdoor Halloween lights that were out, candy corn to go in the candle holder, and extra decor you'd said wanted...

... and getting you a hot chai latte from Starbucks...

... and a giant apple fritter from Daylight Donuts...

... before bringing it all back home and waking you gently at 10 a.m.


Happiness is...

... watching the excitement of an almost-8-year-old boy when you reveal his birthday present to him early and take him to the store to let him pick out stuff...

... and watching your 5-year-old girl read...

... and pulling still-warm eggs out of the henhouse.


Happiness is...

... taking the kids to the park for a picnic...

... and watching them take the time to literally stop and smell the roses...

... and not having anyone throw fits when you announce it's time to go home.


Happiness is...

... an early bedtime for them...

... an early shower for you...

... and fuzzy Halloween socks on your feet.


Was the day perfect?  Nah.  M2 threw a couple fits and we had the typical spats between siblings, and Oz is exhausted from all the work he did fixing decorations and assembling furniture, but all in all, it's been a good day!

Hope to get to the fair tomorrow.  M2's photo is supposed to be somewhere in the photography competition, and I want her to see it; plus the sugar art show ends tomorrow and *I'D* like to see that.  I'll take some pictures!

Places to Go, People to See

I shouldn't be sitting here.  I should be moving.  Being productive.  Getting Halloween decorations out.

I don't want to.

So there.

I have 10 million things to do today.  I forgot about one of them until this morning.  Then my phone beeped at me to remind me of M1's hair appointment at 10:30.  I can't cancel because I have the stylist's laptop that Oz was de-virusing for her.  I need to go to the bank before that so I can get cash to pay her.  I need to go to the grocery store because food seems to be a necessity.  I need to deliver the last of the fundraiser stuff because I forgot to take it with me yesterday to deliver it.  I'm in the middle of doing laundry.  I told the kids we could decorate the house for Halloween today.  At some point I need to get some fish out to thaw for dinner.  I found the perfect desk on Craiglist for M1's birthday, for 10 bucks.  It's still for sale.  The catch?  It's in a town that's a good 25-30 minute drive from here, nowhere near anywhere else I plan to be today.

I was supposed to get to go to lunch with friends today.  That's the thing that has to go when the poo hits the fan.  I hate that.  Hate it.  I'd much rather go eat sushi with my friends than run errands or fight with the boy about math or pull the girl off of me to abandon her at kindergarten while she shrieks like a banshee or do ANY of the above-mentioned errands.

Part of me wants to say screw it all, toss the errand list out the window, and do lunch because I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown and need the time out.  The other part of me knows that if I don't do the things I said I'd do, they won't get done and will just sit there and pile up to be done next week.  Plus I'd still have the boy with me at lunch today, so it's not really escaping at all.

*sigh*

Being an adult is no fun today.  I think the weekend will be better, but for today, can I be done now?