the computer is winning

I had no internet today until 2:40pm,
which really pissed me off,
since Friday is my day off without children, a time I can goof around on the internet without someone yelling

"GET ME CHEERIOS"

every ten minutes.

Last night there was some kind of update- why can't the computer just work?

Why must it constantly be updated?

I hate the stupid updates, they make me crazy.

After the update, the computer would no longer let me look at any of the webpages I like to look at. It also made Yahoo the primary thingy on the frontpage, which also pisses me off, because I don't like Yahoo, and I didn't CHOSE Yahoo, and I resent Yahoo horning into my life in such a sneaky manner.

So I spent a few minutes, every few hours messing around trying to get the settings back to where I like them, without much success.

Then I tried browbeating and insulting the computer, with little success, but at least that part made me feel better.

"I HATE you!"

"You totally suck and I wish I could throw you out, right this minutes, right into the GARBAGE!"

"Thank GOD you were free, because I would be furious if I had paid for such bad service!"

The computer was a freebie from my father, which I am deeply grateful for, except for times like this, when the computer doesn't work, at those times the computer is like that boring guy with earhair and bad breath. The bad kisser, that you are only dating because you don't want to spend Christmas season alone, and you plan to dump him as soon as January rolls around.

I suspect the computer knows that it's days with me are numbered and sometimes I think it acts poorly just to spite me.

So with no internet, I finished wrapping some gifts, spruced up the dining room, and prepared some cookies for Freyja and her friend C to decorate this evening, during a after school playdate.
WHEW!

All of the machines around our house are in league with the computer, the dishwasher, the washing machine, the oven, all louts, breaking or limping along barely getting by.

The Christmas cactus, however is preforming beautifully, and the Christmas tree is looking nice and Victorian, and holding it's needles well. So you win some, you lose some I suppose.

one, poor correspondent

Remember that song from the 70's?

It doesn't mean you aint been on my mind.

No one ever comments, so perhaps I have driven my few readers away with my slacker blogging habits?

Ugh.

Time just gets away from me so often these days and I can't even say I have been doing anything worth while.

Reading a little.

I just cracked In the time of butterflies, by Julia Alverez which feels promising- I didn't love her other novel, the one with the girls losing their accents, in the title. I don't recall, why, now, but I know I never finished it.

We watched Julie & Julia, over the course of two evenings (insomnia continues to kick my ass, leaving me a heap on the floor by 8:30pm each night, only to wake at 4:00am feeling like I had been hitting the speed, or at least drunk several pots of strong coffee.
Weird- not in a good way.)

It was a delightful movie.

I don't usual do delightful, or lovely, but my love of Julia won me over.

I have loved her so dearly, for years and years, it felt good to see her portrayed so well. Her relationship with her husband is my ideal. To be loved in that way is remarkable.

It's worth a rental, and staying up late for, for sure.

One of my favorite things, is to watch Martha Stewart for Julia rip offs.

I love catching Martha redhanded!

Julia also has the blue that I love in her kitchen.

It is the same blue that Matisse's kitchen was!

He had a lot of tile work though, more rustic.

I love that kind of r u s t i c.

What I do not love is the rusticness of my kitchen with it's broken stove and dishwasher.

That rustic I could live without.

I also love the pegboard in Julia's kitchen.

I love high function, I hate fussy.

Pegboard is function. Pegboard is a good thing. Sorry Martha, you know I love your moxie, but you lose.

I am trying to figure out what I am going to do to make myself better this year.

I have narrowed it down to going back to my volunteer work with women leaving domestic violence (which I gave up when I got pregnant with Freya, just too intense for a pregnant mama), or taking some kind of pragmatic computer class.
I have vowed to do something, though, something outside of my work as a mother and wife and outside of the nonprofit I have work at for so long. I need to branch out into something that is not related to what I have around me all the time.

Decking of the halls and all of that stuff

More pastry than you can shake a stick at!

Miss F, in Hanna Anderson skirt ($3.99) & Dansko Clogs ($5.99) from Goodwill!

It has been a whirlwind of activity around here, since December 5th, when the children & Rolf started in on St Nicholas Day celebration.

Every year, my gift to Rolf is making a big St. Nicholas dinner with a goose as the centerpiece.

This year the geese were $70, and since I both cheap, and not into eating geese, I suggested a focus on the sweets instead, and I would say that a jolly time was had by all, despite the lack of any honking fowl.

a very tall skinny Noble Fir tree. The only kind I like.

Maxwell kneeding the Butter S dough.

Freyja showing him how it's done!

OOOps! I forgot to take photos of dinner! Dang! St. Nicholas dinner 2009 really did happen!

(more) Proof of God's love

Isn't this the most extraordinary color you have seen all day?

Dino in a hole

I have to drive to Olympia today, so I got up early and made something a little special for breakfast. I usually use the heart shaped cutter for this, but it went missing ( a playdough related accident?) so I used a brontosaurus instead.

The recipients were not that thrilled.

My children like to turn their noses up to pretty much all food that is not candy.

I was happy with the results.

Mr. Fluffyhead

Ripley finally got a haircut, sadly the really cold weather is also finally, just setting in, so he is freezing his fuzzy, pink heinie off.



In a fit of whimsy (or disorganization) I wore Maxwell's tie dyed socks to work today- it was 6:30am and I was tired and I couldn't find any of my own socks, so there you go.

That would be a pretty good indicator of how my week is going.

The good news is that I finally have something decent to read, after a long dry spell.

I am just finishing up The Size of the World by Joan Silber, which is a good collection of interconnected stories.

The only thing that I didn't care for was the fact that I found myself distracted a couple of times, because I was searching for the connection, and it was really thin, or it came at the end.
That has more to do with me and my linear personality than the quality of the writing, though.

I am also nearly done with When you are engulfed in flames by David Sedaris. I love David Sedaris, even his shittier work, like that one with the stupid Corduroy title, so I like this one. He has jumped the shark a little, but I still laugh out loud every few pages, so I will be happy with that.

Next up is Trash by Dorothy Allison, which I know I will love, because I love all of her work as well as just about anything of this genre.

bethankfulgivethanksthanksforthememoriesthankgoodness

In this time of warm fuzzy thankfulness, I feel like I am coming up short.

Last night an older friend said

"I am thankful to be here"

and I knew that she didn't mean to be sitting at my table, she meant to still be sucking in oxygen everyday, after 70 years.

I knew exactly what she meant.

It sounds so tacky and ungrateful to say it, but it is a great deal of work not to simply stick your head in the oven and be done with it all.

So in the most basic and essential way, I am thankful to be here too, I suppose, but I do wonder why it has to be so difficult for some people, and so seemingly easy for others?

If that sounds like sour grapes, too damn bad, it is true for me and I am sticking with it.

Another friend said

"you are an amazing mother"

and I will take that compliment and bask in it and hope that it was sincere.

I am a good mother

I am a good wife,

sadly those things are not valuable to anyone outside of this house and you can't eat them, or trade them for electricity, so I frequently forget to assign them value.

Thanksgiving

As usual I have not mastered getting the photos to appear in order, but here is what Thanksgiving looked like at our place.


Way more food than any 12 people could eat...

Animated conversations
Parental food cutting duty

Little girls only wanting to eat ice cream all night.

The table before the action started!
Sitting around after the dinner was over.
Aunt Karen playing with Moonshadow
Heidi and Mark cooking, and cooking and cooking and cooking

Rolf and Karen preparing beverage service

Rolf and the dog doing math games and being anti-social

Heidi, Maxwell and grandpa before the guests arrive.

gingerbread

Apparently it is really BORING around here, or so I am told, by the ones I bore so frequently.

We are waiting around for the overnight guests to arrive and keeping boredom at bay by baking a gingerbread cake.

That really is boring, isn't it?

at least I haven't been literally run over lately...

Thursday night, on the way to swimming lessons, Maxwell and I witnessed a guy get hit by a car at the intersection of 52nd and Lincoln.

It was as creepy as it sounds.

The car that hit him was moving pretty slowly, so he didn't fly up into the air, or hit the windshield, the way it happens in the movies. He just sort of rolled, like a somersault, across the crosswalk to the curb, where he came to a stop, and then crawled onto the sidewalk.

The car that hit him was a big cream colored Cadillac, driven by a very well dressed elderly man.

The elderly man pulled his big cream car over, but didn't get out and check on the fellow he had hit, for a long time, like maybe five minutes.

I pulled over, found a place to park, waited for the light, and crossed the street and was there talking to the victim, for a long time before the guy got out of the car.

The man that was hit, was wearing all black, including a hood. He was extremely unpleasant, which I think was his personality, not just a result of having just been rolled across the cross walk, by a Cadillac.

He was snarling at me, to give him the address, so he could tell the 911 operator where to send and ambulance.

He had a cell phone, and didn't need to use mine.

When the elderly gentleman did get out, all he said over and over was

"I just didn't see you" to the hit guy.

"I just didn't see him" , to me.

I felt really sorry for the old guy, since I also didn't see the man in black, and easily could have run him over, had I been one car ahead in the line.

ready, steady, GO!

We did the shopping for Thanksgiving today!

HOLY COW, what a lot of produce!

I will confess to purchasing canned pumpkin this year, I just don't feel like fighting my crappy old oven, to bake a pumpkin, and frankly the prospect of having to scrap the guts out doesn't excite me either! So there.

place cards, fairies and a little rosemary tree

These little fairies will be my place card holders this year for Thanksgiving.

I like to have place cards. In the past it was important to keep the boring people from sitting together, or the ones that were feuding,
now I just like having an excuse to craft,
since the gatherings have gotten quite small and most of us are boring.

See my fabulous new tablecloth? Goodwill- $4.99.
So seasonal AND it has a fringe.
I love fringe.

I made them with wooden clothespins from dollar tree, and some acorn caps and leaves.

I didn't have proper glue, so I used superglue, which worked, but was a bit messy.

I think Tacky Glue would be the very best option.

Initially I put a little felt skirt on them, but I think the really plain ones look almost better.


I love anything made with wooden clothespins.


I am a clothespin sucker.

I love this rosemary topiary.

I am hoping to work it into the table centerpiece, but I haven't nailed it all down yet.

Those little birds are always about in my house,

I love all little birdies, all the time, so what if they look too spring?

Here is the fairy, holding the place card.
Cute, huh?

but what about Thanksgiving?

Amid all the sorrow, depression, sickness and upset around here, I have not done my usual planning and preparing for my favorite holiday.

I started doing Thanksgiving years ago, for people that hated their family, or didn't have family, or lived too far away from family.

My friend Kathy always brings the creamed onions and the pie. Kathy we will miss you and your onions this year.

Sniff

This will be the 20th "orphan" Thanksgiving and for a few days I thought about calling the whole thing off, and going out for dinner.

When you are a parent, you really can't just call things off, so there you are.

Thanksgiving will go on.

More details to come later. Now for a bit of nostalgia, my favorite color.

I think the best Thanksgiving ever was about 15 years ago, when we were still living in my beloved neighborhood, Northwest, in my beloved building, the Wickersham (this link shows all the apartments looking all gussied up, when we lived there it was much more rustic.)

Our apartment was the 3 bedroom version, and it was on the second floor- you can see the apartment on the building photo, almost smack dab where the power lines cross.

When we lived there, that ugly parking lot, was our beautiful garden, which included a quince tree Rolf planted.

We were cruelly driven out by gentrification- I feel that I must mention this fact, every time I can!

At the time I was smack in the middle of a seven year relationship with the badman (not really such a bad man, but the name was given by one of my friends, and it stuck) and the badman's mother was visiting from Florida.

There were seventeen of us in total at the table, including many jazz musicians and the very conservative tv sports announcer, brother of one of our friends (who had the bad taste to bring green bean casserole to my dinner!) he fit in nicely with badman's mother.

I was very nervous and jittery, scared that one of the musicians would say something to scandalize the mom or the sports caster.

To add to my nervousness, Rolf took a bath (not a quick shower, but a full, long drawn out bath. Complete with steam, opera music and splashing about.) about 25 minutes before we were to eat.

I don't like any unpredictable thing going on when I am planning a dinner party and bathing at the last minute, felt very unpredictable to me!

I was really riled up that evening.

Between the mother vibing me, and demanding a TURKEY (we were pretty rabidly vegetarian) the musicians smoking out on the fire escape, and Rolf bathing, there was practically steam coming out of my ears.

My friend Karen was running around trying to smooth things out and help.

She walked into the kitchen, holding soggy bath towels that she had picked up from Rolf's bath, just as I flung open the oven door to pull the giant turkey out.

I had foolishly baked it in one of those flimsy foil pans, and the minute I touched the pan, it folded in half, projecting the slick, basted turkey up, into the air.

As the turkey took flight, the pan juices poured all over the floor in front of me.

I was paralyzed, but as I turned my head, I saw Karen put her towel covered hands out and catch the turkey, before it hit the ground!

She stood there, with a hot turkey in her hands and said

"here".

Rolf walked in at that moment and the two of them plated the turkey and carried it out, while I grabbed more bath towels and sopped up the juice.

We had a gay old time, that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning, and I think Karen left with the saxophone player.

I feel so naked without my camera

Blogging on a regular basis is so much more difficult without photos.

I actually have to fill the page with words, and that is challenging, particularly when the only words you feel like typing are negative and not suitable for mixed company.

I am reading a decent novel for the first time in weeks.

Little Bee by, Chris Cleave

Something random I picked based on the cover art.

That is about as sophisticated as I get these days.

Cover art.

Book selection is a bit tricky with Freyja along in the library.

I also just finished season three of Madmen, thanks to my step-father taping it for me each Sunday.

What can I say?

The hype is true.

Madmen rocks, and if you haven't seen it, then you should go out and rent it ASAP.

How will I make it until season four comes out?

huh?

how?

I have also been watching Showtime's Brotherhood, which I like a lot, but you know how I am about gangsters.

I would go as far as to say that it is as good as The Wire.

Really.

The Wire was such a media darling, but I think it had a lot of pretty pedestrian episodes.
I loved it, but not every episode was stellar.

We also checked out Denis Leary's The Job, the cob dramedy that he did, for TV, before Rescue Me. A lot of the same actors are in both shows, and they are good.
This show is not nearly as gritty or well made as Rescue me, but it is entertaining, if you like Denis, and I do, so there you go. He seems to only really play one role, but I like that guy, so I will continue to watch.

I will do my best to get the camera working again before Thanksgiving, so I feel a bit more chatty.

don't make me get medieval on you

Maxwell started the second half of the "seal" class, at Buckman pool this week, and it was a big let down, from the awesome class he had enjoyed so much at Mt. Scott.

Mt. Scott was over booked so we had no choice, but to go to another pool.

Buckman is super small, and not enough children signed up, so they just lumped them all together into one class.

That is not really an appropriate solution for people in various stages of learning to swim.
We went Tuesday and felt bummed out by how lame the class was-
a. conducted in the shallow end!
b. many of the children couldn't SWIM!

I hear the line from "Raging bull"

it defeats it's own purpose!

run through my head, at times like this. Doesn't everyone have Robert Deniero in their head?

At the end of the class I talked to the teacher, and asked for a solution for the next class.

Thursday rolled around and the same thing happened, except for a five minute foray for Maxwell into the deeper (chest deep) water.

So I called the program manager and asked for this issue to be fixed.

It took three calls, but he will be in the deep water diving class next week.

I hate it when I have to fight for things that should be simple, straight forward and normal.

GRRRRRRRRRRR.

Rambling, I guess I don't like, I don't like Mondays, anymore

On my way home from Dollar Tree (ok PC people, let me have it!) tonight, I heard Bob Geldof's
I don't like Mondays on the radio on the way home tonight, and it totally creeped me out.

I own the Boomtown Rats album that features the song, but listening to it today as a mother, living in this fragile world filled with gun violence, I found myself thinking that the radio station is crass or clueless or something, that I just couldn't put my finger on.


Rolf was delayed from returning for Germany, due to the unexpected death of his beloved sister in law.

I always feel so helpless in situations like this.
What on earth could anyone do to make someone feel better that has lost a life partner, or a mother?

Nothing.

Last week my step-father's mother died, at 97.

She was a sweet and lovely person.

I really valued how kind she was to my mother and to Maxwell.
That is how life should end, peacefully, and long lived.

the case of the missing slacks, and my kingdom for a camera

Our house is all a twitter.

Abuzz with energy!

A veritable hotbed of activity, as Mark struggles to find a pair of black dress pants.

The pants in question have not been spotted in the finc house, since July 2008, when they were yarded out for an evening; worn to Mark's sister's wedding.

God only knows where they are now, and he isn't telling.

It it that time of year, the time of year that we pull out the black suit, the suitcase, and the dress shoes, for work in New York.

Some how we managed to dodge the travel bullet last year.

There was only the teeniest amount of civilized west coast travel.

This year?

Not so much.

No, this year,
not only does Mark have to travel, his travel is overlapping with Rolf's travel, so that I am in a deep quandary over how I will get Maxwell to school at 8:45am, when I have to be at work at 7:00am.

At this moment, my life is feeling very much like a story problem.

a woman traveling west in a station wagon with a four year old must arrive at 7:00am, while a boy traveling north on foot with a giant backpack, must arrive at 8:45am

Lots of people struggle through with one measly additional adult, or none, in their house, and here I am, a glutton, up to my jowls, with help- with my usual two extra adults. I am sure I will come up with something. Co-housing really does have it's perks, though.

In the mean time, my attempt to be all healthful and outdoorsy really blew up in my face this evening.
After dinner I took the children out for a stroll, in the pitch blackness that is 6:00pm Portland November.

On we trotted, through the streets of "south Tabor", Freya singing in her loudest, most cheer filled voice, all devil-may-care, UNTIL, I was impaled by the sharpest rosebush in the history of the world.
My leg looks like something out of a horror film right now.
and me without a camera, dang.

Captain America

On the way to swimming lessons with Freyja...


"What language do they speak in Hawaii?"

English.

"English like Onkie speaks?" (she means with an accent)

No, just English. Hawaii is part of the US.

"Us? Us? Hawaii is part of us? (can spell, us, cat, yes...)

No, the US, The United States of America. America.

"Like Captain America?"

Yes, like that.

"Captain America lives in HAWAII?"

sigh,
yes, yes he does.

sometimes life drops a brick on your head, from a high place

The past two weeks have been harsh.

An emotional roller coaster.

Last week Maxwell went to ER and wound up in ICU for a night.

He is ok, but I was so shaken I couldn't talk, or tell anyone about it until now, or think about him being sick, it was just too much to bear.

I JUST. CAN'T. HANDLE. IT.

Weenie. I know

This week I was informed that my job, as it has been defined for the past six years is being eliminated, and that our management team is being restructured.

I will now be the financial manager. Which entails, payroll, customer billing, taxes and many other things that give me hives.

Those of you that know me, my perfectionism & my severe math anxiety, know how wrenching this news was for me.

I loved my job, and I was really proud of my work, this announcement came out of left field and I have not been able to process, or cope at all.

Life feels extremely unjust and shitty right now

I have not stopped crying...

yet.

Today, we attempted to get caught up on normalcy, and carved some pumpkins.
I felt like a rotten mom for waiting so long, because all the regular orange pumpkins at Trader Joes were sold out.
So we have two albino jack 'o lanterns and one tiny pumpkin from the school field trip, carved on our porch. I bought about a million bags of trick or treat candy to make up for my pumpkin faux pas.

Maxwell is going to China in March, with my mother. I have not taken him to get his passport, and my delinquency on taking care of this, may be another nail in my bad mother coffin.

Everyone cross your fingers and wish me a productive and uneventful next week.

Halloween- sorry no cute title available

I really like costumes, and dressing up.

If I had not married such a hip guy, I could totally see myself involved in something corny, like historical reenactments. Well, perhaps not, but I am not bothered by that sort of thing, where as Mark would be horrified.

Halloween was one of the best things in my childhood, since my mother really went all out to make good costumes for us each year.


The very best one being a gray, pinstriped, mouse suit.
She sewed the mousesuit from a pattern, which is a very big deal, since she was always had a very NO SEWING, NO COOKIE BAKING policy.

The most extraordinary part of the whole suit was the feet. My mother with her amazing Goodwill karma, managed to find a pair of those Japanese toe/sock shoeish things, menat to be worn with thongs, that were a sort of soft gray suede! So the mousesuit had it all including paws!

Needless to say, I have big shoes to fill in the costuming department.

When Maxwell was four he wanted to be a bat, not a scary vampire, black bat, noooo, but rather some kind of barn bat, that is native to North America, that eats fruit.
I deferred to my mom, who made a fur bodysuit & fur hood, with pleather wings.

Three years ago, I made him an excellent Dracula costume, included a homemade black cape, with red satin lining, which still get a lot of use around the house.

Last year Freyja was Little Red Ridinghood, which mean me making a red cape with a big hood, not problem, except she somehow got it into her head that she always has to be Little red, each year, from here on out... and there is no dissuading her from this belief.
Last night I went down into the basement and unearthed a full body crocodile suit (one of those plush zip front ones for little kids, that my stepfather bought Maxwell, when he was obsessed with Peter Pan), which she wore around all night.
I tried to convince her that she could be a crocodile for Halloween, if she felt like it, but no, she was sticking to her guns.
My fear is that it will be pouring rain and the croc would provide much needed warmth.

Maxwell has decided to be Aragorn from Lord of the Rings.

Having never seen the movie, nor read the books, I was hard pressed to have a vision for this character, but I think we have something passable pulled together, with a big, black hooded cape, a brown rustic looking tunic, a big wide leather belt and a sword.

I will be a witch as usual.

speaking of big guns!

We are watching "generation Kill", another fine HBO product.

This show is about a troupe (platoon?) of marines invading Iraq. It is well done, thought provoking, irreverent and bawdy.

Perfect for me.

The actor that played the junkie, drug dealing son of the longshoreman union boss, from "the wire" plays one of the protagonists, and I love his character, a wise cracking, foul mouthed, whiskey tango (that stands for white trash, y'all) kid.

I loved the actor in the other part, with his comic/tragic vibe and pet duck and I love him even more in this, what can I say? I am a sucker for skinny wiseacres. His character cracks me up.
There is also the prerequisite blood thirsty, gun freak, a bad lieutenant that you are just waiting for someone to frag and a host of other predictable fellows, but all done very well There is an actor that I liked from OZ, that plays a Rolling Stone reporter that is embedded with the guys. He is also really excellently cast.

There are tons of great performances in this show, really worth a rental.

Don't watch it if you are sensitive to violence.

It is about war after all and violent.

I love netflicks so much!

pigging out

So I am obsessed with getting the H1N1 vaccine, but there is none to be had in the Portland metro area, so there you go.
I spend my days with snot covered children coughing in my face, so I am not feeling super empowered by my EmergenceC vitamin beverage. I need the big guns.

I think it is absurd that there is a vaccine shortage. All these out of work people? Can't we put them to work making flu vaccine? Huh? geez.

Why, YES, I am a total dumbass

So my dear friend Lily pointed out that I might have put TWO CD's into the player and that the other one, the missing one could be stuck in there, and by cracky she was right.

I am sooo not cut out for high tech.

or even middle tech. I totally suck.

no credit,

The spring of 1987 I went to a Beltane celebration at the home of a Wiccan witch.

Now, that might not seem that odd, but at the time it was very daring and a little scary.

I was dating a very sweet fellow that lived with his mother, who was very eccentric.

Looking back on things, I imagine that she was less eccentric and I was more provincial than I thought at the time, but for me, at 19, she was a bit of a kook, but i digress...

Let me set the scene.

Despite being very open minded and progressive, I come from a very conservative family, and in my heart of hearts I am a fairly square person, in many respects.

So imagine me dating this long haired, fey guy, with a super, kooky mother, attending college and meeting this Wiccan witch in a women's studies class.

I thought I was really out there.

It was certainly a time for change in my life, and some of my fondest memories are of that time, but once again I am getting off course.

I am in a women's literature class, and am invited to a Beltane celebration at the home of this witch.

My boyfriend had to work, so I invited his mother, in a misguided effort make her like me a bit more, since she liked me very, very little, due to the fact that I would clean her house, each time I visited, which she found declasse.

I think she also had some issue with blonds or perhaps with women that weren't ugly, austere and severe, but that part was sort of unclear, since she loved all things Scandinavian.

I was then, and continue to be very uncomfortable with people not liking me, so this was a fairly big deal.

She hated all traditional things, all things domestic and mostly she loved to revel in her bohemianness, read Ibsen plays, complain about her elderly mother who supported her and her three grown up children (grandma loved me- ha!), flip through Gardener's Art through the ages, drink sherry, plot ways to bust her mentally ill boyfriend out of the state hospital, where he was committed for thinking he was from Venus (no, really, he thought he was from Venus when medicated, and former CIA, when less medicated).

So, I thought this whole Beltane thing would score me major street cred, so I invited her.

Man, was she ever excited, just as I had hoped!

So off we went, into the night, to what at the time felt like the end of the world, but I realize now, was actually pretty close to where I live now.

Imagine our disappointment, when the witch house turned out the be a sort of tacky subdivision job, and the party was just a sort of regular old party, except for a few more lesbian couples than I was used to seeing.

No one howled at the moon.

No one danced naked.

The only saving grace was this fantastic dip served in a hollowed out loaf of bread.

It was so good, that for the next few years I made it for every special occasion, and even brought it to my dad's house, where my step mother asked for the recipe.

Not being really big on recipes, I had no good answer so I wrote down what I did, and guesstimated on the amounts, gave it a corny name, and VIOLA! Everyone is delighted.

Over the years I have encountered a million and one versions of this dip- my friend Dom used to make it cold with spinach and water chestnuts and sour cream.

I like to bake it with bay shrimp and artichoke hearts, garlic and spinach, and sometimes crab.

So imagine my amusement when my dad calls me up last week and tells me my niece is making Shepard's bread, which has become a sort of heirloom recipe in their family.

not quit autumnal

The weather continues to be hot.

I am starting to take it personally!

Maxwell had his first new acting class today, so Miss F & I headed over to Laurelhurst Park
for some playground action and some duck feeding.
I know, I know, you are not supposed to feed the ducks, but they LIKE IT!

That is the extent of the Saturday activity around here.

Last evening we did have something TOTALLY WEIRD happen to us, though.

I took the kids to a free concert at Music Millennium (Bela Fleck), and on the way there we were listening to a homemade CD of Cat Stevens. We were running a late, so when we pulled up, I just turned off the engine and left the CD in the player, with the cover, on the seat next to me.

Off we go to the concert, which was packed and hot, and not very fun.
Freyja demanded that I hold her the entire time, and some cranky old hippie shoved Maxwell (I KNOW! Can you believe some hag would shove a little boy, to get a better view for herself? SHOCKING!). So after 20 minutes or so we decide to leave.
We get back into the car and take off. The radio was turned OFF, which was weird, so I turned it back on, and Lucinda Williams comes on. For a minute I thought that perhaps, my brother burned that song onto the end of the CD when he made me the Cat Stevens, but then I ejected it, and saw that it was a commercial CD, not the homemade one that we had left in the player.
WEIRD.
So naturally I pull over because I suspect that the car was broken into.

Nothing was taken EXCEPT the homemade CD!
When I got home Mark searched the entire car and it was no place to be found.
The whole thing was just weird as hell, and I really don't cope with weird very well, but in addition to the missing CD, we started out morning on Friday with a flat tire, that turned out to have been slashed, all the way through. So all and all it was a day of weirdness for my car, and for me, and I hope that nothing else like that will happen for a long time. The blog keeps eating this post, so excuse the lack of flair in the writing, I am just trying to get it published before it evaporates again!

starf*#kerpower

Mark e-mailed me these photos from last year's Comiccon, and since I never get to hang out with famous people myself, I thought I would cash in on his "work".

Why does my 42 year old husband look like a 12 year old you ask?

I have no idea, it isn't from clean living and getting good sleep, that is for certain.
In this case, the people in the foreground are standing up on a step and he is in the background...

Neil Patrick Harris, just happened to be hanging out.
Mark actually had some kind of project to work on with Michael Chabon, and told him

"my wife is a big fan".

It was thrilling to get this little greeting, from what Mark says he is a super nice guy.

Duh!

the pattern for the toadstool doll is from the long thread blog
I totally remembered to give her credit for the first little red ridinghood doll, but spaced it this time. Her toadstool is also nicer than mine, but I will live with my limitations in sewing.

gnome home

I made another little red ridinghood doll today, and two little gnome house toadstools. I wish I were a better photographer. Mark says the gnomehouse is the coolest thing I have ever made.

rambling without a destination

This is a very sweet idea.

My friend Sara turned me on to it, and I have printed out a couple of things, and I will use the green one with mushrooms, a little girl and the rabbit for a birthday invitation, for Miss F's birthday.
Super cute.

I am in one of those mushy sentimental moods today.
No good reason. Finding myself busting out the Chet Baker and crying at cat food ads on television. What did Joni Mitchell say? "I am selfish and I am sad" , that about sums up how I feel today. Note to self, listen to Joni, right after Chet.

My stepfather was nice enough to tape and mail me the first several MADMEN episodes from this current season.
I was so excited, I watched two this afternoon by myself. Boy am I glad my husband is not like those guys, whew! If you haven't watched MADMEN, go rent it right now. It is amazing.

"I love you, my beloved angel, poodle, monkey, princess, stinkpot, baby!"

That is what Freyja told me today at nap time.
Lumping all the pet names together is a nice touch.
She is really the epitome of the "little pictures have big ears" thing.
We need to watch our mouths, around her wayyyy more than we ever did with Maxwell.
Maxwell was always discrete, even as a toddler, possessing a remarkable inner censor.
Not Miss F.
She lives to be shocking.
We are off to the first acrobatics class. I hope it is fun.
Super fun, more fun than ballet, which could hardly be counted as any fun at all.
I am required to leave, and not watch.
I really like it already!

the fruits of our labor

It was in the 90's on Thursday and Friday.
Hideous.
Today it is just hot, not oppressively so, but hotter than I like it to be.

I baked some muffins anyway, even though turning to oven on makes the kitchen almost unbearable.

The muffins are sitting upon a really lovely thrifting find- a Fire king platter with a really groovy mid century design in the center- little dots in various shades of blue. It is ovenproof, which I love. I love Fire king and am always tempted to pay too much for it in vintage shops. This was more my price level, at $2.99.

Our tiny pear tree yielded about 10 perfect, tiny pears, which were so heavy the tree almost snapped in half, and we got one pitiful volunteer sunflower.

We are not much on gardening, that is for sure.

I made lentil soup for lunch, even though it felt too heavy and autumnal for the sunny day.

funny haha, not funny strange

this made me laugh so hard I literally fell off of my chair.

maybe this is why I am so controlling?

I was involved in a discussion about offices, and home work spaces, and as you can clearly see, mine is perhaps the dirtiest and most disorganized on the planet.

This office belongs to Rolf, and he is kind enough to let me share it, and house my ancient computer.

I don't keep any of my things down here (except for a garden gnome that belonged to my grandmother, who is guarding the printer) for obvious reasons, but since I have not a single square inch of personal space any place else, I wont complain- much.

He has two other offices, as various prestigious institutions around town, and aside from the addition of lab equipment, they all pretty much look like this.

For me, right now, this is as good as it gets.