Never Seen Before...

My parents divorced when I was about 2 - I think.  I don't even really know, to be honest.  I never remember being in the house with them when I was a baby.  I never really even remember them communicating after my dad moved to Seattle, then California, then Arizona.

In fact my only memory I have of my mom trying to speak with my dad, was when I was maybe 8 or 9 and my dads' house was in Sylmar, California... Across the street from Mikki and Chico?  Is that right?  My older sister and I, when visiting, would call our mom or maybe mom called us every once in a while to check in.  Mom had been pretty persistent about wanting to talk to dad - and I remember dad not being able to talk to mom.  Within a few weeks of her asking to talk to him - a letter arrived in the mail that my step-mom read over the phone to dad while he was at work about how our pet doberman, back home (here in The Can) had been hit by a UPS truck and killed.  She had wanted to tell dad about it, so he could break it to us - and instead, we overheard it being read over the phone.  It was traumatic... though I think I reacted more to my older sisters reaction.  

But that's not what this post is about.  Damn... I went off on a downer tangent.  A "not the best memory" from Sylmar story.  There are actually quite a few great memories from the days of Tarzana and Sylmar, California...  But I digress... this post isn't meant to be about always having to check this one area of the garage for the black widows that laid their eggs there, or tap lessons, the ice cream truck, the yearly visit to Universal Studios or Disneyland and ohhhh Magic Mountain where we could mix different colors of sand in a jar... for money.  Way cool.

Okay - so as I've grown up - I've known there to be roughly TWO photos of me as a baby.  Being the second child, 5 years AFTER the first child... the novelty of a baby book, new baby clothes, and... picture taking - had long since worn off.  I was born October 3rd, though my moms original due date with me was September 30.  I was likely a New Years "Oops" baby... but that's NOT why there are only 2 baby pictures of me.  The next known picture of me is when Dad and Cheryl had baby Molly and they had a photographer that my older sister thought was uber creepy and wouldn't smile for, to the apartment they lived in, prior to the Sylmar house.  Am I spelling Sylmar right?  A responsible writer/journalist would quickly Google it, but I'm on a rant and if I go look, I'll forget where I'm going with this.  I was pretty dang cute in that photo, which I don't have a copy of - but I remember it.  One remembers the photos of themselves when there are only three in existence.

UNTIL NOW.  I received an email last week asking if I was interested in two baby pictures of me.  This email came from my old babysitter and neighbor, Theresa.  One was me with my babysitters big doll and the other was with my mom, dad, sister and Grandma Agnes.  I'm betting even my mom, dad and sister don't even know this photo exists.  I take that back - my pops will likely remember the day this picture was taken and who took it.  My mom will look at herself and remember how pretty she was and daydream about her long hair and skinny legs.  My sister will probably note that her hair in this photo, eerily resembles her most recent hairstyle...  and realize she had style even at the age of 5, almost 6.

The Dad looked at the family photo and said "I see Zach in that one."  Well... DUH... Zach looks like me.  Acts like me.  Only, Zach, the third child, has WAY more baby photos than me.  I looked at it and realized that my sister got my moms smile and that my dad looks eerily like Nicholas Cage in this pic.

Anyhow - I'm posting them for all of the world to see... or at least the 14 people that read this... to prove two things - that there is AT LEAST - ONE photo of my with  my "original" family on this earth and safely in my possession and... that I was all legs even when I was only one year old.  Also, to remind myself that the pajamas in the photo below are frickin adorable and The Dad needs to find some for me for Christmas.  Lets go!

No Kids & Still Busy?!?! What?

I have been terrible about getting my posts written for about two weeks and part of me cares... part of me is just too exhausted to care.  Work is crazy hectic due to political ads and the start of a new quarter, some turnover going on, new stuff to figure out because each quarter is something new - at least for the first year.  Thankfully, the first year is almost up.

 

Somewhere I thought that life would be less hectic with all of the boys gone.  But it's not.  We go to the EWU Coaches show on Monday nights... I try not to ever cook anymore, and I have to work at that.  I've been running all sorts of errands after and during work for the boys who need or forgot stuff at home...  There is always something it seems.

 

Now... I will say - going home at lunch before The Dad lost his CIO position in the Genitalia/FHC sale... oops, Gentiva... I would write it then.  I would get home, let the dogs out, get them a treat, start a load of laundry, pick up this or that, fold a load, let the dogs in and make a piece of toast or yogurt and sit down to let my fingers type out whatever thoughts are rambling through my mind.  Somehow - if I am on the computer, even during my lunch to do this... it doesn't feel like a chore.  But when I get home at the end of the day... the last thing I want to do is get back on my computer.

 

Not even to do something like... SHOP.  So this whole unemployment gig for The Dad has to stop.  I need my lunch hour back.  I need to get back to my organized ways. 

 

All that said... if you tailgate and you want one of these...  My husband can make you one with your teams colors!  He and the garage have gotten pretty content with each other the past several weeks!

 

It's "holy board" and you try to throw washers through the holes... not bean bags.  Little tougher...  and only for REAL tailgating, competitve, enthusiasts! 

 

 



Just Ain't Right....

It was a different tailgate for us this weekend - what with #7 able to come up and visit, snack for a few minutes before heading up to the press box for the game.  While he handled the injury last week, in a way I would never have expected - I could see that this week was going to hurt.  It's not fun as a parent at any point in our lives thus far, to see the disappointment in our children's expressions.  

The crowd was smaller this week - not a big rivalry, late game, colder out.  You know how you feel like something is "off" but you can't put your finger on it?  Well that was this particular game night and I wrote it off that I had, and Blue Eyes had, forgotten his new WSU holy board in the back of my jeep when we went to pick up his jeep from getting it's much needed new tires that afternoon.

The team from 1997 was being honored that night and one of the guys from that team went on to play in the NFL -maybe more, but one we knew anyhow.  The Dad and I had gone to EWU when this former players' big brother played there... these two are even listed in #7's bio on his player page.  I had sent Pat (big brother) a text to let him know to stop by the tailgate at some point, as they were going to be at the game for Jeff (Ogdens) induction.  And so at halftime, Pat and his wife, Samantha found us.  We talked tailgates, kids, weather, what "tailgating" was when we were at EWU (non-existent, mostly) and certainly not many families, groups like us who feed 8 or so players after the games.  

At some point I asked Pat how a friend of ours from EWU was doing - Leo.  He said  he was doing pretty well...

K - Are they still in southern Idaho?
P - Uh... "they" aren't.
K - (misunderstanding, unknowing) What?!?!?  
P - Uhhh, ya, "they" aren't.
K - ????  
P - She died.  Last year.  About this time.
K - WHAT??!!?  

A year ago - I was on the Bookface and while Leo wasn't (isn't?) on the Bookface, his wife Tyra was.  And while I had only met Tyra once or twice 23 years ago at EWU, she had, at some point in time accepted me as a "friend" on the Bookface.  She never changed from 23 years ago - at least, it did not look as though she had appearance wise.  She was still a glowing, smiling, beautiful girl/woman.  

A year ago Leo had a wife... the mother of his two kids Jordan and Auggie.  About a year ago this week she went to the doctor complaining of a flu that just didn't seem to go away.  But it wasn't the flu.  It was melanoma and the tumors had taken over the inside of her.  She passed away on November 4.  Pat said she was gone in 3 weeks.

I was in shock.  I am in shock.  She was two years older than me - and didn't have enough time to live.  Or to die.  

Pat and Samantha said Leo is doing amazingly well...  He has his close group of friends, church and two children from the love of his life - that keep him going.  They were "the perfect couple".  

I'm glad to hear he is doing well - but I am just so saddened to hear this news.  It brings about those questions that help us to remember, to think, to plan.  To put things into perspective.  

Prior to hearing this but after #7's injury - I remember that #7's backup on the team - that  young mans' dad has cancer.  Is battling cancer.  Cancer is cancer.   While some people "beat" it, in my opinion, for the people I've known that have been afflicted with it - it comes back.  It sucks.  I wondered if maybe this injury happened so that the other boys dad could see his son play.  Because - with cancer there is really no mercy.  It's not usually a matter of "if", but rather "when".  

And in some cases... "when" strikes people unexpectedly.

Remember the bracelets we bought for my North Side husband and his wretched wife, my sista-wife???  I still value it's message:

A Non BookFace Birthday

I got to thinking about my first birthday NOT on the Bookface...  and it was different.

 

I remember getting over 100 "Happy Birthdays" on the Bookface the last few years and it makes you feel good.  Right?

 

But when you're not on the Bookface, you don't get those, right?  And it got me to thinking at the end of the day.  Or maybe it was the start of THIS day...

 

I heard from the most important people in my life on my birthday.  The Dad, #7, Blue Eyes and Wack.  #7 even drove in, arm in sling, to bring me a card.  Granted he was also seeking a plethora of pillows so that he could sleep propped up... but that doesn't actually take anything away from it.  Wack actually got a card in the mail, from the house at 4503 17th Ave NE in time for it to get here on my actual birthday.  Blue Eyes was the only one to actually CALL but then we got to chat AND he told me he is coming in on Saturday (for the new tire appointment he slept through last weekend) - but any time I can have any of them - is a great day!

 

Emails from all of my dads - okay, there's only 2 of them... I think.  Text from my favorite sister TK and brother EK, a visit at work from one of my best pals Greg - with good tidings from a few of my other pals at my old job.  Both of my moms sent something my way - one a card, the other a cheery text! 

 

But then - there were miscellaneous texts and calls as the day and night went on... THOSE are the people that, when you get those texts, calls - you know those are your real friends.  The ones who don't need a notification box in a web application to tell you that it's someone in your list of 427 friends, birthday.  I realized that while it's nice to get 427 "Happy Birthday" greetings... it's much  more gratifying, rewarding to get them from people who just remember.  On their own. 

 

I did not get 427 calls or texts or messages on a webpage.  No matter - because the best people in my life, the ones I love the most, made me feel better than any 427 people that I don't talk to most of the days of my life... ever could.

 

43 and one day never felt so good!

 



Another October 3, On The Books

Today I'm 43.  Which isn't really any different than being 42.  In the grand scheme of things anyhow.

 

Started out the day with a workout - more of a warm up and then some work on my arms.  Home, cleaned up and then stoppef for my latte and away we go.

 

But then Beck had to bring in the lemon cake or cinnamon roles from Starbucks.  I chose lemon and while I don't usually eat much before lunch, I managed to gobble down all 43 calories of the nummy yellow cake. 

 

With no lunch plans and having done a project this morning that would set me back on "normal" work, I opted for a bag of sour cream and cheddar ruffles for "lunch".  After those 43 calories, I am wishing I had another half piece of the Starbucks lemon cake with the yummy tangy glaze frosting. 

 

I think I've picked up an additional 43 calories just thinking about it.

 

With an empty house tonight and the fact that I haven't been to the store in what feels like ages - with the boys all gone - my options for birthday dinner are few, and fortunately, there are no options for dessert. 

 

A debate on TV tonight likely means shows I normally would watch won't be on, so it looks like a quiet 43rd birthday at the Lloyd house. 

 

 

Empty nest sucks.  Birthdays aren't much better.

 

Oh but wait...  I just got this.

A Tale of the Tailgates

#7's first year of playing defense - we became part of a tailgating trio of families that put our three tents together, managed different aspects of before, during and after menu items to put out... drinks, cups, cutlery, BBQ, cauldron, chairs, fire pits and on and on.  The next year - those two families had graduated their football players and it was just us. Many of #7's teammates families travel over on game day, arriving with just a bit of time prior to the game to chit chat and head in.  

So it's a lot of work.  But we love doing it.  Annnnnd... in the past two years, we have gotten it down to a pretty good science.  

Last year - there were two home games where some people we don't know tried to crash our party.  The first time - a teammates dad came and while our backs were all turned, he just started eating the food behind us on our table.  I remember about four of us turned around and saw him snacking and then he looked at us, told us it was great and headed back to his area.  So.  Rude.

The last home game of the season, out in the cold after the game - while we started to prep food for the guys that come up to eat afterwards - these two mid 40's men came and stood by our group, by our fire pit.  I'm one of the few that drink alcoholic beverages after the game so I remember watching them and them realizing that I knew they didn't belong (queue Big Bird singing:  One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just isn't the same, can you guess which one is not like the others...).  As I kept my eyes on them and was prepping food for the football players - they finally keyed in that was not too keen on their presence.  One of the guys said to the other "Let's go this way." and as they started walking off, the other guy says "No way man, they're cooking steaks."  They left and about 12 minutes later came sleeking by and when they realized I was going to watch them like a hawk as they neared, they picked it up a bit and just walked through our spot.  Do not pass go, do not even think about collecting $200!

On Friday, while I was prepping the pork roasts I told The Dad "So help me god, if anyone we don't know tries to eat my food or crash our tailgate without being invited, THIS YEAR I am GOING to speak my mind."

Well eff.

Sure enough there was an incident.  We stepped it up another notch this year with The Dad renting a generator for the music, speakers, blah blah blah.  He also made a giant jenga game set (see below) - we had four coolers:  1 for food, 1 for beer, 1 for hard alcohol (Waynes), 1 for pop, water, gatorade.  Two tables - one for the main dish, one for the appetizers and desserts.  And a "pathway" between the two tables to get to the beer cooler.  

So there's this guy.  He's a friend of a friend of The Dads.  He's met him a few times.  I've met him once.  I remember them swinging by during this tailgate but we had close to 30 people, maybe more at the height of the tailgate prior to the game.  Food was flowing, Jeffs high school buddies, my nieces, nephew-in-law, Blue Eyes, our friends... all really enjoying a good time.  I realized we were about a half hour out from game time and reminded (or tried) The Dad to lock up the coolers with the alcohol.  Don't care about the food or water coolers, but people WILL look in coolers in the trailer if it's not locked.  I went over to Wayne and Rob and told them I was going in soon (always make sure I'm in my seat prior to the team running out) and could they make sure The Dad or they get the coolers in the Tahoe and lock it, prior to coming in.  

I went to task trying to put some stuff away and pick up garbage - organize a bit and this guy friend of a friend is totally waiting for me to clear out from the path to the beer cooler.  He couldn't have been more obvious.  And then I realized it.  He had been there for a long while and likely had been helping himself to our beer, our guests beer, and I'm very certain all of the great food we and our guests brought.  So I stalled.  I started condensing bags of chips and desserts already in the Tahoe to make space for the two coolers... The Dad walked around to see what I was doing while the friend of the friend and HIS friend circled like vultures.  I asked The Dad if he had invited this fellow to join us, to eat, drink and be merry and The Dad didn't think so, didn't think it was a big deal... but it was.  It was at this point while The Dad and I are discussing this that I see the friend of the friend pick up my chardonnay on the table and pour IT into his red solo cup.  He took a swig, made a face and his friend, catching on before him says "Lets go."  The taller, now chardonnay drinking mooch shakes his head and proceeds to turn my way as I pretend to gather more things, move, adjust and says to me, like he knows me "Hey Kathy, can I do anything to help?"  I turned to look at him and told him, "Nope.  I'm all good.  Just gonna lock up the coolers now."  He says "You sure there's nothing I can do?"  And apparently the snakes, now growing out of my head, my eyes turning wicked witch green and perhaps the smoke coming from my nose - made the friend of the friends little friend say "Hey, lets go."

So I was ready and prepared to say something to people I just plain don't know.  But this was awkward.  

So #7 was injured in the game - in the first series.  His first injury in sports since his sophomore year in high school.  And it's a real pisser.  And my heart hurts for him.  It's senior season for the love of god.  But he was strong, brave through the pain and coached his teammates up, cheered them on and handled this injury in a way I would NEVER have imagined of him.  He is just that. competitive.   So close to half time, The Dad went down to catch up with the trainer while I used the restroom.  I sent Rob out to the tailgate to get it going again and he said that when he got out there, there were a few guys around the coolers and when he got there they said "Hey... you locked up the booze?"  

By the time I got there - they were gone, our crew was in place and we enjoyed our friends company until it was time to go back in.  

Thankfully we won this big rivalry game - which helped #7's mood somewhat.  Please do me a favor and say some healing prayers for him...