and then after this morning

i had all kinds of things in mind to post about today.

i thought about the possible reason why the opwo didn't appreciate my clothing style for the past eight or nine months or so.

i thought about the great time that sugar and i had together this morning, yard sailing and eating orange rolls and chocolate chip cookies, talking and laughing really hard and loud.

i thought about some of the recent grandbaby tales and the continuing story of the old girl, ginger.

i thought about how much i love the way i feel on the new anti-depressant and about the only obvious side effect i've observed, which is flatulence.

i have photos i shot of some amazing flowers and something else that i can't remember right now.

i thought about my journey to the greenhouse with jr today and the plants we purchased and our plans for dividing and replanting and newly planting colors and shapes in the gardens.

and then, my mom called. rather, jack called to tell me that my mom had called and wanted to talk to me. he said that my aunt judy died this morning. while that might seem innocuous enough to most people, it was, for some reason, very upsetting to me.

likely the reason for my distress has something to do with the part that my uncle lee and aunt judy played in the last year of my gramma's life. i guess that most of you readers are fully aware of the saga of gramma, lee, and judy. and while i tell myself regularly that the story of those three is in the past and over and done with and i can't change anything about it, as i sit here typing this post, i am astounded at how upsettingly anxious i feel.

the anxiety will most likely continue for a couple of weeks, until the memorial is over and i can somehow put this all aside again. as time goes by, i experience fewer and fewer painful memories and events, but life seems to be all about the surprises and more often than i like, something bubbles up again to stir up the pot.

it's a full boil right now.

4 times cute

I know you've been holding your breath, waiting for the update to the story of the presentation and even more, the update on the seriously CUTE OUTFIT.

Here it is.

I went down to the lobby of the hotel in Eden Prairie to check out, wearing, of course, my new, super deal, CUTE OUTFIT, and who did I meet at the check out desk? The opwo of course. As I approached her, she turned around and said, "What a CUTE jacket"--I held my breath. Then she said, "And what CUTE earrings, both today and the CUTE ones you wore yesterday"--and I breathed in a shallow breath. Then she asked, "Where did you get that jacket?" I said, "I got it and the pants at Kohl's and if you can believe it, I paid less than $25 for the entire outfit because it was on sale, 80% off," and I KNEW I HAD HER THEN! She loves a bargain almost as much as I do.

And then it happened. She said, "THAT IS SUCH A CUTE OUTFIT."

Even if the presentation hadn't been the highlight of the conference (because it was mostly pictures and attorneys only love actual tv commercials more than pictures and because I pointed out that many of the screenshots of the Access database that I was describing showed the pink and purple decor that was chosen by an IT guy for an adult woman to use--although it looked to me like something that a 10-year-old girl would love--and one of the other attorneys said that the presentation matched my outfit and the computer screen gave me a soft, glowing look), anyway, even though the presentation was swell and warmly received and everybody wants one and the boss's boss loves me even more than ever and is delighted to see that I seem to be doing very well,--even without all of that, after I heard that it was a CUTE OUTFIT and it was a great deal, well, I was complete.

Today I put on a pair of jeans and a pink cami and pink fitted shirt with my favorite striped socks and black clogs and some pink, dangly earrings and do you know what? It didn't matter at all what the opwo said. Because, clearly, I know a cute outfit when I see it and I know a comfortable outfit when I feel it and, well, I'll be telling myself about how cute I look from now on.

so this is how it went

Tomorrow is the big day. The wearing of the CUTE outfit. I'm seriously glad I have it because with my recent history of saying the wrong word (a perfectly acceptable word, just not the one I thought I was saying, i.e., cucumber for computer, sandwich for subject, etc. etc.--just keep on laughing, family) well, anyway, that word mix up thing could happen tomorrow during my presentation to the lawyers and paralegals and it seems that the only thing that could possibly save me at that moment is the CUTE suit--excuse me, CUTE OUTFIT-- I'll be wearing that will totally distract everyone in the room.

Except, today, while standing outside the offices here in Minnesota with the opwo, who was talking about how nice the temperature is (one of three yearly good weather days in Minnesota--aka, Home of those Pesky Timberwolves), the conversation turned to the temperature of the cabin of the plane she was on. She talked about how the captain of the plane must have been crazy or something because he insisted on having the heat turned all the way on and everybody was dying of the heat, including the guy near her who must have not checked the weather in Minneapolis, because, hello, why else would he have been wearing tweed?

Man, I can hardly wait for tomato afternoon when my presentation will be over.

update time again

I know that you are all eagerly waiting for a bit more of my stories--the new hiking plan, the drummer's travels, the darling girls--so, because I love my internet, this is for you.

About the hiking plan. Let me just say that while things didn't go exactly to plan, we are both recovering nicely and will attempt to start up the plan again next weekend. Okay, that might have sounded a bit dramatic. What happened was that Jack came down with a cold--a bad man cold--that would have laid me low too. He was down, staying home from work for two days and then crashing after work the rest of the week. And then on Saturday, it got worse. Moved into his chest and gave him the deep, deep man voice. Totally hot that voice.

Then on Saturday my lower back went into spasms when I moved one of the bar stools three inches closer to the bar. It's only taken three days of sitting around taking aleve and muscle relaxants so that I'll be back to normal just in time for work tomorrow.

Hiking update next week. We hope.

About the drummer and his travels. As I said earlier, I really feel like this is the start of real life for him. While I'd love his life to be without pain or inconvenience, that isn't life. Which is the only reason I can come up with that explains why his luggage (a sleeping bag and everything he'll wear and need for the next 10 weeks) was lost. again. Isn't that just like real life? You start out with high hopes and very quickly, something comes along and helps you recognize that life has its bumps.

About the darling girls. Most recently Audrey. She (and her parents) visited last night. That girl is another one who has it all going on. She's got that adorable curly blond hair and those big blue eyes and the deepest dimples in her cheeks. Last night, she again displayed her smarts. Audrey is a nonstop chatter. She has a lot to say and has no trouble voicing her thoughts. It's just that she speaks a foreign language. The only words that her language has in common with English are bye, kitty, mama, dad, and dog. But, she recognizes many things by name in English--for example, when the dog barks, she swivels around to the sound and says, 'dog?' And she has started to understand the pleasure of sitting on gramma's lap while we share a book. She recognizes fish, ball, frog, fork, and many other pictures including egg, which was her favorite picture last night. After I pretended to pick up the egg and eat it, she quickly got the idea and sat on my lap eating eggs for, oh, I'd say about a half an hour. She didn't mind if her mom or dad had some eggs, but she wasn't about to feed them the egg. They had to get their own egg. It is truly amazing to watch these girls develop.

That's the update. Oh jeez, I almost forgot the BIG news. This week, I'll be headed to lovely, tornado-struck Minneapolis to attend a corporate legal department get together and while I'm there, I'm on the agenda to explain one of the applications I use in my job to see if it will work for other company locations. While the idea of telling a bunch of lawyers and other paralegals about how I do something is intimidating enough, my biggest concern was--obviously--what to wear? Since none of my favorite suits fit comfortably, I told Jack I seriously needed to go shopping. He agreed and offered to go with me.

Let me just say that I may never shop without him again. I had in mind another black suit--the usual work clothes. But not Jack. He found this adorable--might I even say, CUTE--suit jacket. It's a tweed jacket made with pink, blue, white, tan, and black yarns. And best of all, while I don't even want to look at the size tag, I've discovered that size doesn't matter. Fit matters. And this adorable jacket fits. And it was on sale--$84 marked down to $12.80. JACKPOT!

We also found a pair of slacks that fit perfectly that are black and white tweed and look so dang good with the jacket. And they were marked down from $54 to $8.80. BONUS!!!

Omigosh--a whole CUTE outfit (because I already have a couple of cute--seriously they're cute--tops and some great shoes--sensible and stylish even) and the CUTE outfit cost less than $25. This outfit doesn't even require a CUTE outfit label from the opwo. For that price, it is more than CUTE. It is adorable. It is colorful. It is stylish. It is the perfect size. And it's mine for less than $25.

Even if the presentation somehow falls apart, it won't matter. Because I'll be wearing a new, adorable, colorful, stylish, well fitting, amazing bargain outfit. And I will feel good about it.

the real adventure begins

I drove the drummer to the airport about an hour ago and I had the distinct feeling that he was about to start his life. That feeling brings a certain amount of melancholy, but also a calm assurance that he is ready.

life with my dad

Yesterday was my dad's birthday. He is now 83 years old. It is hard to believe he could be as old as 83 because that sounds so old. And while I realize when I see him that he is getting older and more frail, I still think of him as my young funny dad.

My dad was the fun dad in the neighborhood. He regularly bought ice cream bars from the ice cream man--not a bar for each of us, or even a bar for his kids and the neighbor kids. No my dad bought cases of ice cream bars and put them in the freezer in the garage--and he left the door to the garage unlocked--so that anybody who asked could have an ice cream bar.

Every summer, my dad would get out our swimming pool, which, at the time, seemed huge, but was likely not huge. It had four rings around it that had to be filled up with air before the pool was ready to fill with water. My dad would get out this old maroon and silver vacuum and he'd change it from sucking to blowing and fill up the rings. Then he would fill the pool with warm water by hooking up the hose to the washing machine faucet. And then, every night after work, when the neighbor ladies came by to chat, he would inevitably pick up one of them and toss her into the pool, clothes and all. And everybody laughed and came back to visit again.

My dad was a carpenter. He could build anything--including our camper and my playhouse. My best Christmas was the one when I woke up and found a playhouse in the backyard that my dad had built in his spare time that winter. On the outside, it was painted to match my parent's house. It had real windows and curtains and was bright yellow inside. It was big enough to hold all of my little girl crap--a couple of tables and chairs and all of my barbie stuff and my baby doll stuff and my dressups and the cupboard I recently refinished for Breanne. It was the best place to set up and and play an all-day game of Monopoly or Risk, and even though my dad originally made it for all of his kids, it wasn't long before it was clear to everyone that it wasn't a playhouse, it was a dollhouse and I would be deciding when it was time for the boys to get out.

I have many fond memories of time spent with my dad--the places we saw and the things we did--like the nearly-every Sunday drives to Evanston or Coalville or Heber where we'd stop and eat dinner or if the drive was after Sunday dinner, we'd find a Dairy-Queen type place and stop for ice cream cones. Even at 83, my dad still loves to go for a drive and check out stuff that he reads or hears about. He is still delighted whenever I visit or bring my family to visit.

I've always felt safe with my dad, very loved and valued. Up until the last few years, I can honestly say that my dad had never said a harsh word to me, and I guess that it isn't too surprising that there might come a time when we would disagree about something. I'm just glad it doesn't happen often.

I love you Dad. Happy Birthday and please have many more.

jack says

No one--not once--has ever told him, 'hey, cute outfit'.