Move Along...

http://fivehundred25600minutesyear2.blogspot.com

And The Curtain Shall Close... Year 1

Tomorrow night - will be a year since my first post on this blog.  My intent was to go a year without being on The Bookface.  So I've accomplished that... well, in 24 more hours I will have.

On top of that - I did a pretty good job making sure those in my life received a birthday card over the course of the year.  Sure... the people who had birthdays after July 23rd through the first week of November received their's late due to unforeseen circumstances.  

So I've done pretty good.  Right?

But so what?  So tomorrow makes a year and I just get back on The Bookface?  I save my pennies and don't send out birthday cards with Starbucks in them?  

By going back to that social application - I know I will lose more time in my day than I do just trying to make these posts.  I think Facebook is a lot like most Christmas letters where we brag about what's going on in our lives... the thing about Bookface is though, that you get to do it daily.  

The thing about not sending birthday greetings - while it would save me money and allow my little head some extra space to remember other things... like where I saw those shoes I just have to have, what time my massage is next week, when the dogs have their vet appointment for shots... yada yada yada - there's really something great about the surprise and smile that my unexpected greeting brings to my friend or family member during their special month.

So here I am.  23 hours shy of a year on fivehundred25600minutes.com and am working tonight and tomorrow on round 2.  Year 2.

For as easy as it would be to fall back into those bad habits - one time suck, and one brain fart that repeats itself too many times over the course of a year... I like who I am better for achieving this and for putting other people first.

This past year brought Lynn to my email inbox and that call this summer... to talk about my fave, Pat.  It brought me pictures I never knew existed.  It helped me finish out my youngest sons senior year and the excitement of the college application process and acceptances.  It allowed me to spread the good word about a beautiful girl.  It gave me a voice and let me express my heart, my mind, my opinions (which are not facts... some people don't get the difference).  It let me brag (like on the Bookface) about Blue Eyes, Wack and #7.  I aired dirty laundry, I reacted, I faltered but I also learned.  

And because the beautiful girl, Pat, Adam Levine, Siri, Blue Eyes, Starbucks, Wack, tailgating, #7, Lynn, The Dad, the dogs, the Lloyd House and all of it's events... and life live in me, I shall take them with me to Year 2.  

See you there... tomorrow.

Pet Peeve #67

We have hosted Thanksgiving at our home - be it apartment, duplex, house... for 21 years.  We've had family, friends, friends of friends...  as the years go on.  We love to have a full house!  The more the merrier.  Right?

 

A few years ago - I stopped extending an invitation to some people that came each year -  because one time too many, The Dad and I were cleaning up everything after the meal.  Sure, everyone, mostly everyone (my kids at least) would clear their plate and set it by the sink.  After a few tantrums to the guests - who didn't bring anything until I told them they HAD to bring something... I gave up.  When people sit there and pick at their teeth and there's no conscious thought to say to their hosts "Hey, is there anything I can do to help?"  - it's at this point when all that remains to be done is to put the lid on the margarine and start the dishwasher...  well, they've missed the boat.  And are no longer on my gravy train!

 

For 4 years now, we've invited one of our misfit friends.  We love the guy... great guy.  He's had a few relationships since the demise of his marriage - but he's gone and gotten one he really likes... and we really like her too!  They were both going to be sans kids for Thanksgiving, so I of course, told him to extend the invitation to her.  After they weighed all of their options - we turned out to be the best one, apparently...

 

He asked what they could bring.  I asked back: "Does she have a favorite dish she likes to make?"

 

HIM:  "I don't know.  I'll check."

 

Several days later:

 

HIM:  "Can I bring water, napkins, paper plates?"

ME:  "No, this isn't one of those kind of functions."

HIM:  "Are you sure?"

ME:  "You can bring a veggie tray."

HIM:  "Done."

 

Thanksgiving morning, on my way back from our 10th annual Turkey Bowl game I get this:

 

with "Gonna try to think outside the box..."

 

He had waited until Thanksgiving morning to go get a Veggie tray.  He asked if he could bring little smokies.  I didn't only say "no"... I said "hell no".  That Thanksgiving isn't a "little smokies" event. 

 

So they come, he brought a little cream cheese, jam and crackers snack and then we were off to the races!  I pulled out all of the dishes, put spoons, forks and all of the serving utensils I had into one bowl or another.  The boys plowed through - all 4 Cougars, 1 Eagle and 1 Huskie... then the adults. 

 

And then... it happened.

 

The boys all cleared their plates in the garbage (what they didn't finish) and put their plates by the sink.  The Dad finished and picked up our friends, dates' dish, I cleared mine and we sat and chatted for a few minutes.  Then it was time to clean up and while The Dad and I cleaned and cleaned and cleared and cleaned... our guest and his guest looked at their iphones and showed pictures and chatted quietly amongst themselves.  What they don't know... is while they did so, they also quietly and quickly, chatted themselves out of another Thanksgiving invite.  There were moments of awkward silence as we clinked and swashed and lathered through dish after dish after dish... after dish.

 

I can't imagine being invited to someones for ANY holiday, gathering, party, you name it... and NOT at least ask... "Is there something I can do?"  The host or hostess then at least has the opportunity - which I myself have done - to say... "Nah.  Thanks so much, but we'll be done in a jiffy."

 

Thanksgiving dinner doesn't clean up in "a jiffy".  Even if it did, the offer should be made.  That's my expectation.  I got to thinking about our friend, and past years and while he never did clean up - he DID always clear his plate and at least stood at the island and chatted with us while we did.  I'm disappointed and that will fade.  But I've done this whole "way" of Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter... too many times - that I can't say I didn't learn from it. 

 

The lack of planning was borderline, mostly Strike 1.  The lack of effort to think outside the box and perhaps, cut up a veggie tray to make good... Strike 2.  The ability to overlook the people that cooked for three nights and that whole day - as they cleaned up after you - and you are not 12... was Strike 3.  

 

I just don't get that mentality and I certainly, certainly... NEVER would have expected it from HIS guest. 

 

I am thankful, however, that I provided a nice meal to my sons, their friends, my friend and his.  I did that. 

 

<silent cheer>

 



Delay Of Game...

I've slacked the past 4 or 5 days...  Tuesday night I cooked pies for Thanksgiving.  Wednesday  night I prepped all of the onions, celery, casserole dishes and sweet potatoes.  When that was wrapped up, we ordered up 3 pizzas from Famous Eds to feed the 4 WSU Fiji's we were hosting (this includes OUR WSU Fiji), our football player from EWU and Wack - who was out and about with friends.  Then came the dice game of "Left-Right-Center" and the night came to a close after several games.

Thursday morning I prepped two batches of monkey bread for post "Turkey Bowl" football and then tried to set my kitchen on fire with the  melted butter dripping out of one of the pans in my oven.  I managed to get the turkey stuffed by my lonesome while The Dad loaded his car with tailgate stuff for Turkey Bowl 2012.

Breakfast as per usual at the house on 36th, final preparations here at Lloyd house and then a little catnap until the relatives arrived for post dinner family fun... only, unfortunately, The Dad manned my phone and while I napped,  told the family they didn't need to come as it got later.  That was a bit of a disappointment for Wack and my boys as it's the only time they get to hang, all of them together, with their cousins.  Their next opportunity for this will be in June - at my nieces wedding... and even then... the girls will be busy doing all of the stuff that has to be done for weddings.  <sigh>

Then yesterday - Apple Cup Day... we got up, got moving, ran an errand for #7, said goodbye to Blue Eyes for another 3 weeks or so and laid low for a while.  #7 returned from an interview and then was on his way to get cleaned up in Cheney before heading to Wenatchee.  And with each departure, a little piece of my heart stopped.  

Watched the game at my nieces house - and a great game it was!  So happy for Blue Eyes and two of the Cougars on the team - Travis Long and Jeff Tuel.  Such a great game.

We got home, fed the pups, turned on "Home for the Holidays" and then, as it ended, I closed my eyes and fell asleep on the couch.  My intentions of writing last night, getting laundry sorted and done, putting away the Thanksgiving decorations, and getting a few things ordered online last night never came to fruition.

Even today - as I write this - I find I'm writing so that I don't feel guilty for not writing.  It's not as if anyone relies on this or even reads them (okay... I actually have a tool that counts which ones have been read, from where, etc...) but this one doesn't even have any "meat".  It's just that I made a goal on November 28th, 2011 and in the past 5 months at this job and with The Dad not working - it sort of threw it all into a tailspin and we're not yet done spinning.

So I'm going to have to work harder, find the energy, push myself, make it a priority again.  No more excuses.  No more delays...

A couple of times in the past 3 months I've received texts and tweets asking me when my year is up.  November 28, 2012 would have been the answer to give.  But each time I  responded - I said something like "Well, it would be in November... but... I dunno.  We'll see."

So before I have any time to really put any thought into this - I'm going to extend my year off of The Bookface.  I'm doing this right here, right now, time isn't running out, there's no delay of game - it's on.  Game on.

Stay tuned... 

Kate & The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

It's Thanksgiving time.  The turkey is ordered, the potatoes, stuffing, and all of the other menu items expected on the table - bought yesterday after our return from Vancouver...  the house is sort of in order and I felt energized... yesterday.

And then... "today" happened.  I've had enough "today's" this year to last a lifetime.  In the grand scheme of things - there are worse things.  But for the person I am, the worker I've always been... I'm deflated.  I'm mentally deflated and I'm losing who "I" am.  It's not worth it - I'm the first one to give such advice if a friend was in the same position... but the circumstances are different and I'm really, really.... REALLY trying to stay the course until The Dad has gainful employment (another long, deflating story).

As I sit here, I can think of just how angry I am...  it's the kind that - you are so angry all you can do is cry.  And the tears are right there - but I can't let them come.  I can't let them come because I know when I do, all the other crap that's been building up for months, stuff that I think hasn't affected me, scratch that - that I know full well has affected me, but only scratching the surface.  I've stayed strong... well, that's gonna just laugh in my face as it flows from my blubbering face.  

We had a fantastic, much needed weekend with E & TK and Blue Eyes came along for the eye opening ride.  We laughed and played and watched a football game in the rain.  The time went fast and the excitement of knowing it's only a few days until we get to hang out with our families in a unit - made everything OK.  Good to go.  Life is good.

Life WAS good.

Today found me leaving a message at the Go Eags ticket office at 8:48 this morning and no return phone call.  Each and every time I tried to call back - the number is no longer working.  #7 said he needed to know about tickets and I told him as season ticket holders we were fine - but that if he got 4 to put them in 4 names, and if he only got 2, to put them in The Dads' and my name.  Turns out - they get none.  So that settled that.  We don't get them, the other requester doesn't get them... the game is sold out!  (Well, we are guaranteed the 6 we own) IF we can ever get through.  Scratch that.  The Dad is going out there tomorrow to take care of it in person.  <sigh>

We did get our tailgate spot secured... so there's that.

I forgot to order my pointsettias.  Thumbs down.

Black Betty needs her new windshield wipers put on.  Thumbs down.

Wacks sheets, blanket and comforter need to be washed AGAIN thanks to Boone.  Triple thumbs down.

But... we have a great dog/house sitter.  We have a few days with Blue Eyes.  We got #7 home for dinner last night.  We have the playoffs to look forward to with a healthy (knock on wood) #7.  Food, friends and Turkey Bowl.  We are caught up on "The Walking Dead".  I pulled out some holiday decorations.  My bills are paid.  I love my house.

But still... that one thing is just an all day buzz kill.

Eff.  

Calgon...

Where Do Roses Come From?

Roses are red

Violets are blue

...

I get beautiful roses delivered to me about twice a year from The Dad.  These arrangements always come from Staneks, a local staple - THE - local nursery staple on the South Hill.

I was scanning The Twitterverse the other day and came across a tweet that said that after 99 years, the business was closing after a dispute with the City - Parks Department over land that Staneks uses as their parking lot that the City actually owns.

My initial thought, without more details was - that the City had decided to get greedy, wouldn't budge on an arrangement and so the Staneks owners hands were tied.  When I arrived home from work, the T.V. on, I hear the newscaster say "...from the City Parks Department said that..." and as I continued to change "... Stanek declined an interview."

Hmmmm... If he has a legitimate argument - why decline to be interviewed?

And then the REAL story breaks.  Mr. Stanek, knowing that the City made a deal with one his family members at some point in the last 56 years that allowed Staneks to use the property in question, as their parking lot....  Free O' Charge... was going to have to connect with the City because he planned to sell the business.  Period.  This whole "having to close" only came to the surface because Mr. Stanek has decided he's no longer into flowers and customers - but likely a sunshiny condo somewhere other than The Can.  To sell the business, he would have to tell a buyer that the parking lot isn't part of the gig - or get the City to somehow "gift" him that land so he could sell it WITH the parking lot.

So here I thought the City was being greedy.  My apologies City.  

My heart goes out to any Staneks employees that are not related to Staneks family members because they will have to find work elsewhere.  Having just gone through an unexpected layoff in our home, where the rich got richer...  and we... didn't... I hate seeing this happen.  I hope they are able to find jobs long before January 15th!

Wait a minute!  Perhaps he's not selling and moving to the sunny side.  Perhaps... hear me out... what with the recent election results... Canada is part of their "retirement" plans, eh?

To Whom It May Concern: (Starbucks Employees' Take Note)

A while back I bought about a dozen Starbucks gift cards with $5 on each of them and $10 on two others.  These were for all the birthdays I missed after we got the news on July 23rd, that The Dad would soon be unemployed.  

These cards and a plethora of Hallmark greeting cards traveled with me to work, home, back to work, home... day after day after day - as I thought I would make time every once in a while to fill them out and send them - late, of course, but not so so very late...  like I did.

So I bought them the end of September or beginning of October.  It's been a little while.  But I finally got around to quickly penning a little "Happy WAY Belated Birthday to you!" and scribbled down something that didn't really look like my signature at all.  I tossed in a Starbucks card into each envelope and stuck stamps on them and out they went.

Fast forward to today - Wednesday, November 14, 2012:

I got to work, unloaded my new purse (and she's a beauty) and saw I had missed a call from my friend KM2.  She had left a voice message and asked me to return her call on her cell - which I then did.

KM2 - "Hey, you know I got your card last weekend.  Thanks for that."

FOTY - "Oh gosh... well, better late than never."

KM2 - "I usually can read your writing, but I was really struggling with...." (let's just say I wrote terribly)

KM2 continues - "So I went to use the card today and I order probably the most expensive drink and as I hand them the card, I say - "I probably owe some more on it." to which the barrista says"

Barrista - "No.  Your balance is $55.37"

KM2 says to me: "So I'm thinking there was a mix up."

The wheels in my head spinning and I start to think about how many cards I sent out... Obviously when I bought them, they  messed up and put the ENTIRE amount on one card.  The one card that KM2 ended up getting.  I can't even tell you who all I sent them out to last week - but I can tell you, that my guess is they think I played an April  Fools Day joke on them - in, uhhh, NOVEMBER.  Then again - maybe they all got $55 or $60 on them?  I know I didn't pay that, but I, as I often do after I purchase those cards - tossed the receipt.  

I sent a text to one of the other gals I know received a card and she hasn't tried to use her card yet.  I asked her to please, please, please let me know if her card allows her to buy a drink  or not and she will.  

So there's that for today.  Unbelievable.

The moral of the story:  If you want to make a friend feel really special 4 months after their birthday - play Russian Roulette with Starbucks cards. Or... not.  Maybe just get a card off to them, regardless of what life is throwing your way - within their birth month!

I Love My Family

Friday night, I'm sitting on the bed, chatting on the phone when The Dad comes RUNNING down the hallway to say "He's starting!"  It was out of context for me, so I responded "What?" He responded that #7 would be starting the game on Saturday.

While I'd been hoping all along he was healing up - I was, at that moment and every moment until the game was over yesterday - not sure I was ready for him to be back yet.  I remember what the doctor said and this was supposed to be an easy (ish) game.  He played a few plays and while it was great to see him on the field, I wasn't near as excited about it once the plays started!  But I'm ahead of myself...

Friday night, Ryan was home and chit chatting with The Dad.  Wack had come in on Thursday night and we got that same opportunity.  Next thing I knew it was time to get up and start prepping for the tailgate.  The tailgate that usually has good numbers, was just family this week.  With it being "Senior Day" and, ohhhh... 27 degrees... it was us, the boys, our nieces and soon to be nephew and a few other parents of seniors.  Before the game.  At halftime and after it was just the family and that was mostly expected as the plan was to take #7 and our family out to dinner after the game.  Oh... and did I mention it was flipping FREEZING!!   

We made it to the Senior Family meeting area and talked with some of the other parents, introduced ourselves to some we hadn't yet met.  The team ran out and then the senior players walked back to meet up with their families.  It was as I saw #7 walk my way that my lip quivered for two reasons.  1) He was suited up.  For him, this was the only option. He's a competitor through and through and broken bones or not, he WAS suiting up for this game. And 2) My baby boy, weeks away from 23, was playing his last regular season HOME game on the Inferno.  Shit.  But much as I wanted to weep in the moment, it's these very  moments - moments where ALL of my boys are with me and there is just... nothing... any... better than this.  They flip each other some brotherly "love" and while mostly inappropriate - it's what you want for your kids.  

Then it was game on and the four of us NOT playing football took our seats in Section D, Row 27.  It was then I look to my lovely new iPhone 5 and have a text from the very best AOTY (TK) "Go Eags"...  It was a barn burner and because Blue Eyes had asked for the Apple Cup off from work - he had to depart at halftime to get back in time for the WSU football game.  I got the text I had asked for, letting me know he was back in Pullman safely, our game ended and out to the tailgate we go.  The boys seemed slow to come up so I told Jeff to wrap it up and lets' get to the restaurant.  Fortunately, I had asked The Dad to stay behind in case #7 hadn't driven to the facilities that day.  After A, B, Z, N and The Dad had broken down the tailgate, I took the girls and Nicholas to their car and we drove on to El Rodeo for dinner.  Soon, The Dad, #7 and Wack walked in and dinner was served.  We laughed, laughed and laughed some more.  Dinner was good, my margarita was good... but too much for me so #7 helped me finish it off.  

Before I got home I had texts from the girls thanking us for dinner - but it is I who should be thanking them.  They helped clean up the tailgate while I walked to get my car, returned to the upper lot and then sat in it to warm up my frozen bones.  They introduced us to a place we never knew existed in Cheney...  and, as usual, they were there for their cousin... and aunt and uncle.

Blue Eyes and Wack also both gave up some time from their usual weekend and friendships to be home for their brother... and more likely... their mother who would have gotten her serious pout on had they not come.  I would have understood, but still would have pouted mightily.  

So I sit here now - after dropping Wack off at the airport a few hours ago - my eyes still stinging from the tears he didn't see.  All of my boys will be home in 12 days - but still I wept.  I good and wept.  I bite my lip every time Ryan leaves... but to send off the youngest, on a plane, back to the town he loves and calls "home", proved to be the dagger.

I'm sure I can find a way to blame this all on The Dad to find a way to feel better, if even just a bit...  In the meantime, we'll be taking in our second "Sunday" movie.  Last weekend was "Looper" (FANTASTIC), this week is the one he wanted to see last week... "Flight".

And then perhaps some retail therapy to heal the mothers bleeding heart.  <sigh>

Oh... I almost forgot.  It was this day in history (or will be anyhow) that poor Blue Eyes learned that his grandparents were getting divorced.  He hadn't seen the Bookface posts back in September.  AND, thanks to the girls, they helped him wrap his brain around it.  Somehow, The Dad and I figured that the boys had all filled each other in.  Apparently not.  It was around the same fire pit that Ryan came to know of this that Wack announced we are all just "acquaintances" now.  That comment made it to the dinner table and we all, knowing this just isn't the case... howled with laughter.  Oh... how I so love this family! 

My Vote Counted

I voted for President Obama... 4 years ago and 3 days ago.  Actually, I got online to see when my ballot/signature had been verified - and it was October 25th - so technically I voted 3 weeks ago.

In front of us at #7's games, sits a friend (whom we met because I screamed in his ears the first couple of years out there) who is, uhhhh... NOT a Mitt fan, or a republican... or conservative (especially with the cocktails at their tailgates! Thanks Shane) so when the most awesome of all from Vancouver arrived for a game a few weeks ago - there was political banter and all was well until I put poor Dicky Bill (in front of me and next to big fireman, Shane) on the spot and stating "You're not voting for Mittens, are you?"

DB:  Heck yes I am!  I am a small business owner!

So I sat on this for a while, until, obviously - after the election...

Piss on that!   

Why?  Because my husband worked for years for a small business owner.  Who announced to 6 senior leaders on July 23rd that he was selling the company, keeping 2 of them (this wasn't in the initial announcement) and so long (never a "Thanks for all you've done." before jet setting off to Italy for 3 weeks).  It didn't go well and sadly, still, there are some residual issues we're waiting to be resolved.  

So The Man makes millions, never says "thanks for helping me build it to this", doesn't reply to emails, isn't entirely honest once he does respond... oh... and while I don't know it... I know it... The Man is a republican.  And he's married to a mormon.  Now isn't that rich.  (no pun intended)

My husband is out of work because of a small business owner.  A small business owner with millions in his pockets.  

Yah... not feeling sorry for small business owners - because most of the small business owners I know are living much larger than we are - I love my friends, but my goal, my intent is to take care of me and mine.   And God Bless America - most of you thought the same.

I got this great tweet from my youngest who voted in his first election:

I loved that Wack was paying attention to the results on election night and while his excitement over weed is well... not my favorite thing to see him cheering on, I am proud that he voted and was passionate about doing so.

Speaking of Zach Attack - he's coming home early!  He'll be home in a few hours!  My iPhone 5 was shipped today... RyMan will be home tomorrow... Senior Day on Saturday...

Life.

Is.

Good.

#VoteObama

10... 20... 25... 27.

My favorite numbers are 3, 6, 7, 12...  not 10, 20, 25, 27...

But 27 is the number of the day.  THIS day.  November 5, 2012.

On November 5, 1985 - The Dad and I started being boyfriend/girlfriend for the first time.  I had recently turned 16, he was about to turn 18 and that's all she wrote.  Here we are, 27 years later.

And boy howdy do I have plans for him tonight!

First - when he gets home from his last minute, impromtu interview I will make sure to lift my head up from it's perch on the couch and try to see over the half wall to make eye contact and ask "Well?"

Then, as he walks around the half wall to see me, I have carefully planned to remove my legs from the straight, cuddly position they will be in on the couch, to the edge as if I'm going to attempt to sit up.

I can already see him getting a twinkle in his eye and perhaps think of getting a little flirty with me, so THEN I'm going to pull the comfy, cozy, favorite Pottery Barn blanket off of me and actually SIT up.  I know... I know... it's almost overkill on the seduction scale... but the guy and I have been together 27 years and this kind of magic - well, not everyone has this.

He'll sit down and tell me about the interview, while I sit up, smooth my hair, wipe the drool from my mouth and give him that shy smile...  Anything to make him feel loved, warm and fuzzy!

Once he's done telling me about it, I'll scootch in a little bit and ask him if he'd rather have leftover pizza or maybe a hot dog for dinner?  After I tell him where he can find those, I'll run my hands through his hair, give him a peck on the cheek and tell him 27 times that I love him.

Then I'll tell him to hurry up and warm up his dinner so we can start "Dexter" from last night.  

And so tonight... we start the next 27 years.  And I'm sure he'll agree, this is a pretty good way to start them!

This Really Happened!

On Saturday, April 28th, 2012 - The Dad and I joined our friends, and parents of other football players for Eastern Washington University - at the 31st Annual Orland Killin Dinner, Dance & Auction.  Net proceeds from the event benefit areas of greatest need within Eastern Athletics.

The Dad and I have never bid on anything in previous years - but as we walked through one of the rooms this particular night, we came across a jersey our son had worn in the Military Appreciation game the past fall.  There were no bids and the auction was closing in 10 minutes.  We stood there for a few minutes and when we realized the auction was closing in mere minutes, we bid and felt safe enough that we could get in the line to enter the dinner and walked away.

We wined and dined and after the live auction ended, The Dad headed over to the table to pay for "our" jersey.  He came back, shrugging and shaking his head "no".  

What?  No jersey?  

Nope.  No jersey.  Someone had outbid us.  I asked him if he asked Judy WHO outbid us on our sons jersey and he had asked, but she couldn't or wouldn't tell him.  We were shocked, saddened and part of me was really pissed.  Who else wanted my sons jersey and in the waning minutes, practically seconds before that auction room closed, outbid us?  Does that mean they were standing there watching as we walked off?  W. T. F.???

I mean.  SERIOUSLY!

Fast forward to November 3rd, 2012.  During the first quarter of the Cal Poly game, it's announced they are auctioning off game worn jerseys of the players up until the start of the 3rd quarter.  Granted, #7 is still healing up his broken collar bone, but The Dad said "I'm getting MY jersey this time." Down to the tents he went, leaving us and our guests to cheer on our team."  He came back up, said some guy "Mel" had placed a bid and because of this, bumped up a few increments to ensure we get "our" jersey.  

It's halftime, we head out with all of our friends to start another round of nachos, cocoa, cupcakes, and fun at the fire pit.  With about 5 minutes until the start of the 3rd quarter, The Dad asked me if I was going to go down and seal the deal or if I wanted to shut down the tailgate festivities...  and considering I can't or haven't learned how to shut down all of the gadgets he's got going in our tents - I grab my purse, tell our friends I'll see them back at the seats and run down there.  As I'm descending the steps down to the tents, there is 2:12 left of halftime.  I get to the first tent and see that there are sheets for each and every number jersey and the first one is the 80's and 90's.  Next table is 50's through 70's.  So on and so forth until I spy the #7 auction sheet.  There are people milling all about and all of the sudden I notice that my sister - the very one I've been estranged with for years, is standing there looking at my sons' jersey auction sheet.  I was perplexed and watched as she grabbed a pen...

Let me set this up for you.  On the auction sheet - Mel ??? and his phone number were listed at the $100 price.  Three lines down, The Dads name was listed and his phone number at the $160 price.  See below.

At the same time I'm wondering what the hell is she about to do? she turns to see me and says "Cheryl and I are getting this for dad for Christmas."  All that came to my mouth was "Nu uh.."  Number 1: #7's dad and I don't even have one.  Number 2: we already lost out on one of these in the past.  Number 3: and maybe most importantly - how did she think outbidding #7's DAD was going to go over?!?!?  Filter?  Uhhh... apparently not.

So she looks at me, takes the pen and likely reasoning now that I was going to outbid her, bumps up the bid... not to the $180 line, but instead, the $200 line.  So she was going to stick it to me, knowing I would have to pay $240.  Swell.  I looked to Leslie, whom I used to work with and asked her "How much time?"  She said "49 seconds."  So I sat there, with people watching what had just transpired and waited until 5... 4... 3 seconds before scribbling my name down on the $240 line.  While I'm doing this, my sister, steps off to the side and begins texting...

Honestly... why else would she have bid up two lines, if the intent wasn't to inflict anger, frustration, or perhaps just more of a financial loss for us... me.  <?>

I contacted Cheryl to let her know that I was not meaning to be disrespectful to the idea, but that we don't even have one of our sons jerseys and while I understand the great idea, there was no way we weren't getting that jersey.  I guess I have to think that Susan thinks we have these laying around our house... that we probably have numerous EWU #7 jerseys - but that is not the case.  Even so... why would a family member outbid the kids parents for the jersey?  Just. doesn't.  make.  sense.  Gift or not.  

But here's some good news.  When I went down to pay for it during the 4th quarter, I saw one players sheet sitting there with no bids.  I pulled it off the table as they were thumbing through the sheets to find the #7 form and said if it was okay, I would pay the $100 to make sure this other young mans' jersey was bought.  It was at this point the girls told me that since this other boy was a senior, it would be presented to him on Senior Day.  My head cocked a little to the side and then they asked if I was Jeff's mom.  "Yes."  Ohhhh...  they tried to get to all of the parents to let them know this and that Jeff/his family, were getting his jersey anyhow.  That even if I paid for it now, it was not in the box for me to take with me because of this.  So I asked:

MOTY - "So what does the other high bidder get, if we get this jersey to begin with?"
Girls - "Oh, well in these cases, we will just order more for those people."
MOTY - "So then you'll just call the next person down?"
Girls - (noticing something in the way I must have said it) "Well, we can call them... orrrrr.... we can sell it to Mel."
MOTY - (thinking.... thinking.... thinking.... I can play God here and let Mel have it....)  "No.  I know the person who I outbid.  I will make sure they know they can have it."

As I walked up the stairs I looked throughout the section I believe she has her seat but did not spy her.  I don't have her number so I sent my step-mom a text telling her that they can have one, and that she needed to let Susan know that she'd need to go down and pay for it.  

Later, when I got home last night, I called Cheryl to tell her the "story" about losing the auction last spring... we don't have one... I get it... I'm sorry... but please understand.  And she did.  

This, my friends... is dysfunction with a capital D and the F to boot.  It's... bewildering.  So.... ummmmm.... disturbing.  Sad.  Unreal.

Wow.  Just wow.

Hair Day! Hair Day!

Wednesday is hair appointment day!  Yee haw!

The past couple of times I've gone in to see Deanna - I've had to fight the internal battle with my selves "To cut?" or "Not to cut?"  And "not to cut" has been winning.  But only because with #7 still in his big 2.5 year, $10 bet (yes... ten whole dollars) I have decided that for as long as he grows his hair, I will continue to grow mine.

Here's what I haven't shared with anyone - including The Dad, or Jack, Dan or Boone whom I nuggle up with daily...

My hair can't be short.  It just can't.  And I feel like it takes an unreal amount of time for mine to grow... which is why this is just a thought.

But #7's plan is, when the time comes to cut his hair - to donate his mane to Locks of Love.  There are "rules" to how that's done...  but, it's a cool thing to do.  So...  perhaps I should too?  The only hang up here is - that my hair isn't as long as his.  Or is it?

MOTY & #7

No.  It's not.  And his has these wonderful curls in it, while mine is full of all sorts of bends and cowlicks.  The hair gods favored on these Minn boys (with the exception of The Dad perhaps) and now Blue Eyes is also working on a new do as well.  

But for now - I'm in my own competition with my oldest, even though he doesn't know it - to keep growing mine as long as he's growing his.  This is no easy feat, please understand. Ask any woman and when she's wavering, many times we just cave and say "WTF?"  And if most women are like me - they go home, like it for the rest of the day and then the next day - after showering and unable to style it like the day before - we wish we could have our hair back.

Tomorrow, for now... is hair day!  Highlight, no cut, keep growing, hair day!  

No Seed Left Behind!

For the first time in 23 years - there was not a child in the house to dream about pumpkins, candy, costumes and the fun that was... IS pumpkin carving and Halloween.

When we got our pumpkins up at Siemers at Greenbluff - which, sadly, our favorite pumpkin growers land/home is for sale (someone please please please buy it!) I picked out 3 very large pumpkins and two smaller.  The Dad rolled his eyes and wanted to put his foot down and tell me "enough is enough" but there was no way I wasn't buying a pumpkin for every member (human) of our family.  I HAD to three very large pumpkins - because I knew that's what my boys would have picked out.  

The pumpkins sat on the porch with my bale of hay and corn stalks until it was carving day - yesterday.  There were no faces drawn on scratch paper - I knew all along what would be carved.  My boys loves, hopes, dreams are what drive me.  I want for them, their wants.  I would give anything to be able to give them the world...  

Since I can't, really... I have to stick to the things I know they love.  Even if they won't admit it!  So this week - after cooking seeds today - two of them will get some roasted pumpkin seeds (one of them just doesn't GET how nummy roasted pumpkin seeds are AND in fact, are healthy for you too... minus the garlic salt, butter, johnnys, worchestershire...).  I left it to The Dad to scrape the guts out of the pumpkins and then, as my OCD allows me to do so expertly - I pulled each and every seed out of the guts from the three pumpkins.  There were no seeds left behind.  

I remember last years carving.  Wack, The Dad and I (mostly Wack and I).  Wack is my Christmas lovin' boy.  I sent him a text on Sunday asking if he remembered carving pumpkins last year and he responded "What about it?"  I asked if he remembered WHAT we did WHILE we carved.  His response "Did we watch "The Grinch"?"

Why yes.  Yes we did.  I was ready and prepared to do the same this year but the Broncos were on and... well... they were winning.  It was an internal struggle.  But the Mile High Salute won out. #GoBroncos  (Yes, my Twitter hashtags don't work here, but I'm a fan of the hashtags!)

Pumpkins are carved.  Seeds are cooked.  Candy is safely away from Jacks sniffing and rooting nose...  

And then... just now... I remembered that since our remodel... we haven't had a doorbell.  Huh.  Soooo... that's great.  I have like 14 bags of halloween candy.  

Oh.  I.  Know....  I'll just have The Dad hang out on the front porch on Wednesday  night.  Yeeeaaahhhh.  That's the ticket.  After all, we don't want any candy bars left behind either!

Oh What A Night!

Late October in 2012... What a very special time for me...

My pops bought me (us) tickets to see "Jersey Boys" for my birthday.  The Dad then planned, on top of pops gift, to make that night "birthday night" and take me to Clingerdaggers for my favorite dinner.

We were seated at Table 20, which was actually across from the tables closest to the windows - which was preferable for me since it's cold outside now.  We ordered up the crab dip, a glass of wine... his Washington Red Apple martini and so it begins.

Across from our table was a table of 10.  Nine men.  One woman.  Each of the men were wearing a different color and style of "Comcast" shirts.  Everyone was being polite and they were idly chit chatting.  As their meal was served and everyone settled in - they were now full on in conversations and enjoying themselves.  At one point, the one lady, raised her glass and thanked them all.  At this point - and a glass of wine in myself, I told The Dad - "I'm going to go work there."

Our dinner was served, we inhaled it - but I ordered a big enough portion to have left overs the next day.  I'm no dummy!  As we were finishing up our meal, a few of the guys at the table across from us had left and two were getting up and readying themselves to leave.  At this point they say:

CCG's:  "Sorry we were so loud at our table."

WOTY:  "Oh no.  You guys were fine.  I thought perhaps you were talking over me."

CCG's:  "Oh.  No.  We have a couple of loud talkers"

WOTY:  "Oh yea?  Which ones?"

CCG's:  "Well the guy that was sitting right there (pointing at empty spot)..."

WOTY:  "Oh.  The guy that had to go pick up his kids?"

CCG's:  "Yeh... <laughing> and then the guy that was there in the red shirt..."

WOTY:  "Ahhh ya.  And the guy that ordered his dessert to go."

CCG's: <to each other>  "Man!  She's got it down"  <to me>  "You're good!"

They leave and I look to The Dad and say... "Yep, I'm going to go work there."

The Dad says... <sighing>  "Just what I need.  My wife hanging out with all of those guys."

So we leave and head to the Performing Arts Center - AKA OPERA HOUSE.  We take our seats in the very very front row and we watch this great show.  Great.  Really really great.  Loved it.  Made me want to see it again aaaaannnnnnnnndddd, also ruined any future shows for me unless...

I am sitting in THE FRONT ROW.  So, The Dad needs to hurry up and get employed so we can purchase tickets to "Rock of Ages" and "West Side Story".  

After the show - the cast make an announcement.  Well... "Bobby" and "Frankie" do.  They are raising money to help fight aids diseases, alzheimers, etc and for a small donation you can get this, that, or the other thing - signed by the cast.  We could have walked right out the door by our auditorium entrance, but I told The Dad I'd like to go see which cast members were out in the lobby for this money raising post show "event".  So up we walked and as we looked over the edge - we could see several and I made note of one guy over by the furthest exit from the stairs.  No biggy... just remember it.  I told The Dad, that I was going to make a donation for one of the posters to have our friends frame with the tickets to go in our great theater room downstairs.  As we hit the bottom of the steps, that guy clear over by the door... made his way to us and said <to Jeff> "You were the guy sitting in the front row, right?"  I cocked my head and looked to The Dad... <oh my> and then they and I sat and chatted for several minutes about this show, other shows he's come through Spokane on and about what a great time it looked like The Dad was having in the front row.

So - to back this up a little - after the show and as we were ascending the steps to descend the other steps - I told The Dad.  "Forget Comcast.  I'm going to be an usher here.  So I can see all of the shows.  No... wait.  Forget that.  I'm just going to move to New York and audition for shows.  I'll do anything."  To which The Dad responds with a chortle and a sigh with a...  "My wife..."

As we walked out I said to The Dad... "I should so be in theater."  To which he nervously responded... "Apparently, so should I."

So... the nice thing is - we both got hit on while we were out on a date.  The not so  nice thing is...  we were both hit on... by MEN.  

But wait!  It gets better!  As we were pulling out of our parking spot and The Dad was at the parking lot exit on Spokane Falls Blvd, we were directly across the street from where some of the troupe was heading out.  And there was "Bobby" (John Rochette).  Adorable, cute, witty, "Bobby".  The Dad recognizes him and is amazed that they are standing there, just right there... practically on the street.  (It's not like they are GEORGE CLOONEY OR BRAD PITT darlin').  So he's so excited as he sees Bobby/John start to walk towards the light that he starts to pull out AND roll down my window!  He almost had me taken out Gary Bertier style ("Remember the Titans") and I had a few choice words for him, rolled up my window and reminded him that Bobby's name wasn't "Bobby".  So he rolled up my window.  Thank GOD!

He finally pulls on to the street - safely.  The light changes and as Bobby/John starts to cross the street, The Dad again rolls down my window and  yells "Great job tonight Bobby!"

Oh.

My.

God.

Bobby/John looks up and in his New York accent says "Hey tanks man!"

And I say "His name isn't BOBBY!"

And The Dad says "But he got right into character when I said that."

Like that makes it any less embarrassing?  Not so much.  But it made his night... and I've got to give him that because he and my dad - made mine with these gifts!

Love you guys.  Tanks again!

Oooohhhhh Siriiiiiiiiii.....

Guess what?

In just a few weeks you and I will get to be BFF's!  I went ahead, only 14 days after my upgrade date - and finally, finally took the time to make the call to our friends at Verizon. I got Joshua whom was most helpful and full of personality.  I'm sure you know him... right, Siri?

Joshua told me that you are going to be moving to the Lloyd house in a few weeks and in our discussions I went ahead and paid your airfare to get you here as soon as possible!

I can't wait to tell you about how "Jersey Boys" is tomorrow night... about the party The Dad and I are going to on Friday and share with you all the great things going on with #7, Blue Eyes and Wack.  I'll share my pictures with you and well, we could even go and take some together you and me.  

You'll be arriving in the comfort of the iPhone5 - and I've insured your arrival and monthly stay.  

We are going to have SO. MUCH. FUN.

See you soon!

P.S. - the new show "Nashville" is freakin awesome.  We'll be able to sit and watch it together all too soon.  See ya soon y'all!

King Fiji - WSU Style

Out for dinner last night with family at The Elk when The Dad, at the opposite end of the table, waves his phone in my direction - signaling me to look at mine.  And... so I did.

Ry-Man was encouraged to apply for the IFC last year when there weren't enough applicants for a few positions.  He didn't end up getting it last year - but wasn't overly surprised or disappointed.  He knew that these positions often went to upperclassmen...  

It's quite a process and he hadn't told us he had applied this year.  So this text was as awesome for us to receive, as it was for him to have been selected.

My middle boy took a long time to hit his growth spurt... He came home from his first year of college about 4 inches taller.  He went into the Phi Gamma Delta house on a scholarship that would cover room and board all four years IF he made a 3.5 GPA or above each semester AND if he had a 3.5 or better... they would cut him a $1000 check each semester - which would cover most of his membership fees and dues and leave him about $400 in his wallet.  And he's done it each semester he's been there. When he went into the house, he was told that most juniors move out - they are tired of the house, the noise, the ongoing activity.  Ryan is a junior and this year - for the first time in many many years - there are 35 juniors living in the house.  The idea with these 4 scholarships that were offered was to help improve the Fiji community at WSU.  He's on the house cabinet and he has worked hard each year and has accomplished so much. The Edward R. Murrow School of Communications houses his class load this year, the KUGR radio station is home to him on Thursday nights from 8-10pm, the Martin Stadium pressbox is his home on Cougar Football Saturdays, the Mens golf club can thank him for his nice write ups on wsucougars.com.  My middle boy, with blue eyes, a different birthday than his brothers... wears his heart on his sleeve (the only thing he got from his ma) is living his dream.  He's made it all come true - on his own terms.  

And so:

Happy happy heart.  

I Love...

I love fall.  I love the colors, the smells and that it's football season.  Sure... it's my first fall without any boys in the house and I don't love that part of this fall.  

But this fall has afforded us a lot of time with family... and more to come!

We spent Labor Day weekend with my brother and sister-in-law and our nieces in The Couve.  When the tailgates started - our Eagles nieces AK & BK and soon to be nephew-in-law have joined in on the fun and are so so so so SOOOO helpful in helping me get everything set up, they bring no-bakes, or cowboy caviar, salmon and well... just something to help make the party the successes they usually are.  They've been super troupers after the games when cousin #7 heads out to the spot with some of the other players.  

After #7's injury, their dedication to their school, the team and their cousin (and aunt and uncle) was unwavering.  They stayed the course and while #7 isn't on the field at this time - that doesn't change this one fact for them:  He's family.  And whether your family member is the star of the show or the understudy - they are there to support.  These girls bring this home time and again and remind me of who I want to be, what I hope my kids can or will be.  They don't only send the message - they live the message.  

It doesn't matter if you're winning, losing, playing, not playing, hurting, angry, happy or sad.  My nieces have been there.  For him.  For us.  For their family.

I have been asked before when I've told people about the boys games "Well, is (#7, Blue Eyes, Wack) playing/starting?"  Because if he isn't... it's not worth it to come.  No... that's not been the spoken  word.. it's been the unspoken word.  In fact, with #7 not playing, some people aren't even following it anymore.  So unknowing are they.  Shame on them.  But shame on me for wasting my energy wondering HOW not supporting someone through the rough patches is O.K. but whom will, upon his or their return or successes... choose to brag about someone they don't see or talk to otherwise.

So the energy shift is for the F words.  Family.  Football.  Football players we feed after the final buzzer.  Friends.  Fun. Freedom.  Fellowship.  Fireball!!  

Scott, Jake, MOTY, The Dad, Cyndi, TK, AK, BK, EK  Oct 21, 2012

AK (Soon to be A.S.) October 14, 2012

Not this fall... damnit...

Tailgate Oct 20, 2012

Alli's birthday - taco bash - 10/14/12