I Don't Like Mondays

You know how some Mondays are just ever so much more Monday-ish than other  Mondays?  Yeah....this was one of those Mondays.  After a couple of weeks of glorious weather, today the rain started in and while as a true Northwesterner I find rain comforting, to have it start in earnest on a Monday...well, just added to the whole Monday-ishness  going on.  Everyone was in a Monday mood at work...clients, coworkers, supervisors.  Bleeccch.  If it is possible to trudge quickly through one's work, that's what I did--I got a heckuva lot accomplished, and yet it all felt trudgey and dirge-like.  A coffee-spilling, toothpaste-splattering, stocking-snagging, lunch-forgetting, puddle-stepping, type WITH THE CAPS LOCK ON kind of day.  As I filled out forms to fill out forms and emailed forms to be filled out and filled out email forms to complete forms to be emailed and corrected previously filled out and emailed forms and e-filed them in 37 different root directories and files and databases and e-folders so that they could possibly be retrieved at some later date to fill out other forms to be emailed elsewhere upon request of an emailed and completed form....somewhere in there a little spark of me started designing and landscaping and decorating The Perfect House For Me.  I have No Earthly Idea if this house can or will exist other than in the slightly crazed recesses of my mind, but it was fabulously distracting thinking about 12 foot ceilings, fireplaces, warm tiled bathroom floors, rugs, leather upholstery, warm colors, that welcome home feeling when you open the door, not like you've just walked into a museum but like its a place to live and love. 

I love having a warm kitchen.  I love having sweets available for my kids.  It's a basic need for me, I think, to feed other people, especially offspring.  It's so satisfying to cook for other people.  It's just no fun to cook for one person.  Even when it gets boring and repetitive cooking the same favorites over and over (if, for example one happened to have extremely picky eaters.  Or, say one's children prefer to get their vitamins from Brightly Colored Cartoon Vitamins the way God intended.)  And so, on this Oh So Mondayest of Mondays, with rain and trudging and Cooking The Same Old Thing...somehow, everything was All Right.  My kids are happy and fed.  The kitchen is clean.  The house is quiet.  Monday is over. 

It's The End of the World as We Know it....

One of the things I simply must have to live is music.  If you're not this kind of person, you won't understand, but to me music is as necessary as air or water.  Music is also a deeply personal thing, I believe--what speaks to me may not speak to you at all or may even grate on your ears.  Music can resonate in your soul, make you feel alive, help you work through issues, bring swiftness and joy to your step.  For me, also, it is a marker in life.  I immediately return to junior high when listening to Styx or AC/DC.  I can remember exactly where I was the first time I heard The Sex Pistols, U2, Nirvana...the music so electrified my spirit it left a permanent mark on my life.

Prominently featured in the soundtrack of my life is the band REM.  Therefore, for me, it was a sad thing to learn this week that they had officially decided to disband.  No, they hadn't done much lately, but they were still together and the possibility still existed for more music.  I have had all of their albums (although some I have literally worn through playing them so often--it is always on my list to get some of the earlier work on CD), having fallen in love with the REM sound starting with Radio Free Europe.  I remember singing at the top of my lungs to "I am Superman" and "The One I Love"--and thinking that the woman they used in that video looked a lot like my very dear friend who had known the band from her college radio days in Florida when REM was just starting out.  I went to the 'Monster' tour with my bestest friends--7 months pregnant with my second son.  My least favorite album was their most commercially successful (Out of Time).  It merely spoke to me less than their other work.  When 'Accelerate' came out, critics complained that there was nothing 'groundbreaking' about it--to me that was its beauty.  Yes, a lot of the songs seemed familiar--it was like putting on your favorite pair of jeans--totally worn in, thoroughly comfortable, perfect and just for you. 

I wish all the guys--Peter, Michael, Mike, and Bill-- the very best in life.  And thank you.  Thank you for the great songs, the good times, the shoulder to cry on, the happiness to wrap myself in.  Because of you, REM, I believe in the Man On The Moon....

Pumpkin Bread and Cute Guys at the Farmers' Coop

Let me just start with THANK GAWD this week is over.  Work was hellacious.  I am reminded again that gee, I am just not passionate about payment processing.  (I know, you're all shocked by this revelation, but its true).  I am so ready to let my brain wander aimlessly, meander through side roads, think frivolously, all that stuff that I love to do and can't figure out how to get someone to pay me for...
I am somewhat in a Food Coma as we had a potluck at work today to usher in fall.  I made some pumpkin bread, because really...is there anything more autumnal than that?  Maybe acorn squash, but...you get my point.  (note to self, purchase acorn squash and bake with buttah and brown sugah....).  Nibbled all day long on yumtastic stuff brought in...meatballs, a hot and spicy queso dip, chicken tortilla soup.  And yet right now...the oven is going baking the ears of corn so they don't get icky.  And I'll probably chow on one of them.  That's how i roll. 
After work it was time to pick up 'the share' from our local farmers coop (I live in a house with a high school friend--both of us divorced and doing our best in this wretched economy--and she purchased a 'share' from our local farmers coop which entitles her to an abundance of fresh veggies and herbs every week of the season)...Twas an absolutely beautiful day today, kind of muggy and the wind is bizarre (seems to not be able to make up its mind which direction to come from and whether or not to blow at all) stopping off to pick out delicious fresh produce is about as delightful a chore as one can have.  So we're looking at all the yummies, and I'm in front of the tomatoes and the sign says that we can either take 4 large tomatoes or 4 boxes of small ones.  (you know, those little green boxes like at a grocery store).  This seems odd...4 boxes would be alottatomatas, so I asked the Cute Guy standing there selecting his produce for clarification (he is shy and is slightly startled at my, um, lack of shyness, but he is nice and genuine and conversation ensues posthaste)...we go through the whole, geez 4 boxes would be alottatomatas routine and then I asked one of the proprietresses to be sure, and she said "yep, four boxes...in fact, just take as many tomatoes as you want, we're harvesting tomatoes like crazy this week..." Yes, that's right, it's TomatoPalooza at the organic farm.   Yes, I said that out loud, you know you aren't surprised--and I'm happy because I do love tomatoes. Cute Guy is psyched by this as well, as the tomatoes are quite fabulous.  So then, Farm Proprietress says they have some huge tomatoes that split when picked that they can't put out for regular selling but were selling for $8 for thirteen pounds and they'd be great for sauce or salsa....Cute Guy is all over this and talking about making sauce.  We decide let's do it too!  Spend the weekend filling the freezer with lotsalotsa tomatasauce.  How fun will this be????  Got some fresh fennel too (and discussed with Cute Guy how fennel tastes like black licorice--also shared some cooking techniques for collard greens; he's a cooker that Cute Guy!!)  Kind of hope that Cute Guy is there again next week....might even ask him his name. 
In the meantime, Sauce is the order of the weekend!  mmmmmmmm......

Baseball Bleacher Butt

After work this evening I spent a couple of hours at my local ball park watching #3 son at baseball practice. Here in Washington, fall is a waaaaay better time of year for baseball than spring (I have spent countless spring days freezing and shivering, with an umbrella that is practically useless turning into a Mom-sicle at various baseball practices and games). Fall ball is more relaxed, more about honing skills and keeping them sharp, learning new stuff, trying out different positions... and this year, we went from being the oldest and biggest kid on the team to being the youngest and smallest (ah those age group jumps are killer). Ry's league age is 13 (he won't actually be 13 until January) so he's playing with the guys up to age 17. This presents a rather motley assortment of teenage boys...some have grown, some haven't. But, it's a team, and they do all work well together. This is my 10th year as a baseball mom...deliciously ironic if you enjoy that sort of thing. You see, I very much dislike baseball. Never watch it. HUGE football fan, but professional baseball bores me. Naturally, the sport my sons are interested in playing is baseball. (I grumble, but the truth is I like watching my kids play...but don't tell them, I want them to think it's a huge sacrifice for me to be there.)
I don't know if Ryan will play official Little League this year--he can play at his junior high and he wants to, so that may be his game from now on. He's not bad--been a first baseman two years now, and he was the starting first baseman this last Saturday (shocked me--he is the youngest and shortest on the team, but he did a great job). We're at a different level now--a lot of kids play on the select teams. Those have buy-ins of upwards of $3K and then you have to pay for travel during the season. Unfortunately, there's no way I can do that right now. It's bad enough that the bats for kids at his level are $200-$300 and have more engineering than the Space Shuttle. OK, that might be stretching it a bit, but seriously!! Remember when bats were either wooden or aluminum?
This weekend I'll be at yet another baseball game. We might win, we might lose...either way its another chapter in the sporting life of my son. I just hope that when he's older he remembers that his Mom loved him so much she got a major case of bleacher butt every season. Even though his sport of choice was baseball.

Hello...Welcome to my Chaos and Insanity

This is my life. If you would have warned me about this 20 years ago...well, I don't know what I would have done. Probably just not believed you. I find myself in my 40s, divorced, broke, with three fantastic sons, having just reentered the job market with absolutely no idea what to do with myself. I've been employed for about a year and a half now, and believe me, I am grateful beyond words to have a job at all, but...well, let's just say that I am not passionate about my job, and as a passionate person, this is a Serious Problem for me. I need to be passionate about how I spend my time. My job skills are....well, I'm really good at providing an opinion on everything. I'm great at pointing out the ridiculous. Not so good at toeing a party line, or doing things because its the way its always been done. Really bad at doing something without understanding how it fits into a larger scheme (just do it, don't ask questions---wow that will send me right over the edge). Love to help people. Love to improve people's lives. I have started this blog at the urging of lotsa friends. (that's a technical term--sorry to use such jargon on the first post, but you might as well get used to how I write). I used to write an email letter to a whole slew of friends to keep them up-to-date on my life (because, ya know, everybody cares about my life). When FaceBook came along, I embraced it--I'm a military brat and it has been wonderful to see into my scattered friends' lives. However, I stopped with the email letter....much to many people's chagrin. Therefore, I am now officially a blogger. Yesterday, I took my oldest two sons on a road trip out to Eastern Washington. I had a crappy week at work....lots of political drama, some really skeevy clients that I found upsetting, and i wanted to Get Out of Town. I invited my older two (number three son had baseball practise and was therefore ineligible) to accompany me on my Escape and they accepted. Number 1 son is studying at community college and was interested in Central Washington university, so I decided we would stop and check it out. I also wanted to go check out Spokane a little bit--I had just recommended a job to a dear friend there, and suddenly realized I hadn't been there in a good 25-30 years, so I wanted to see it. (side note--can I really afford the gas for this trip?? No, I cannot. However, the mental status I have been in all week justifies the expense. That's my story and I'm stickin to it.) We left fairly early (for teenaged boys) on Saturday morning; I had doughnuts in the car eliciting 'yays' from my offspring...we set off down the road, talking faster than I was driving and laughing. We had just been together the previous evening, but we all love to talk about anything and everything and so we did. It was raining a little bit, (shocking for Washington, I know) but we thought it was a beautiful day and took notice of everything passing us by. As we crossed over Snoqualmie pass, I asked Alex if he remembered when he took skiing lessons when he was little and he barely did...but was intrigued that we were passing by where this had occurred. On the eastern side of the pass, the terrain changes significantly and we talked about that for a bit. When we arrived in Ellensburg to check out Central, the rain continued to drizzle, but we parked and walked around town anyways. There was a Farmer's Market going on, and we perused that while also taking note around town of several cafes as possibilities for lunch. The campus at Central is beautiful, and Zachary was really excited to see it and to wander around town. When he finishes up his associates degree, this is where he is thinking about attending--its his number one choice and I wanted him to have the opportunity to see it and get a mental picture of where he might be spending a few years. We liked Ellensburg; small enough to walk everywhere you need to go, lots of fun little places to poke your nose into. I could very easily picture Zachary there, and so could he. We wound up not eating in any of the little cafes because they all sounded too foo-foo for Zachary (doesn't any place just have a plain grilled cheese anymore? he grumble-asked) and so headed down the road to see if we could get all the way to Spokane or not. We crossed over the Columbia (semi-seriously Alex queried if we had crossed into Oregon--the bridge is remarkably similar and he was momentarily disoriented) checked out the Wild Horse Monument, and chattered about the wind farms with their giant propellers generating power. We arrived in Spokane and parked down near the river front park (the giant Radio Flyer slide is wicked cool!!! I made the kids let me take their picture by it MUCH to Zachary's great dismay--Alex was down though!!)...the parking meter was fed and away we walked. It's a lovely city...I would like to go back and explore more thoroughly and take all 3 kids. We shopped in Boo Radley's, checked out the carousel, meandered through a bunch of cross streets and decided to head out. This, of course, would be the point where I get lost and we discovered the Spokane ghetto (or Spokompton as per one of the t-shirts in Boo Radleys--Spokompton, Spokanistan, Spokanada....pretty cute! Plus they had things like bacon candy canes and bacon toothpaste...who knew??). And so Alex decided to point out the prostitutes, the drug dealers, the meth addict, the Catholic nursing home (no seriously) while Zachary had a Moderate to Severe Freak Out that I was permanently lost and we were doomed to forever roam the Wrong Side of the Tracks in Spokane. Obviously, we made our way out....and decided to stop for a late dinner at the booming metropolis of Ritzville WA which boasted a Perkins. Zachary re-channeled his inner 5 year old in Alaska and ate something called the Twelve--6 pancakes, three eggs scrambled and 3 strips of bacon and a big side of breakfast potatos which the waitress informed him 4 of the staff usually split--he had no difficulty inhaling it all. Alex chose the Boston Cream Pancake platter after toying with the idea of merely ordering a lemon meringue pie for dinner. By the time we left Perkins, it was past dark and Alex (who was now riding Shotgun) complained about the inability to see the landscape. He then decided that we should put Avenged Sevenfold "Nightmare" on the CD player and that's we found ourselves hurtling down I-90 in the darkness as if we were the only ones around singing at the top of our lungs.... We did then discover that the wind farm, which looks soooo cool during the daytime, has red lights that are all set to flash simultaneously at night. What this means is, you're speeding down a pitchblack road and suddenly up ahead and kind of off on the side up on a bluff this whole bank of red lights flash. It's possible that this Freaks People Out causing them to perhaps think it is a UFO before Somebody has a Prevailing Cooler Head and remembers said wind farm (note to the wind turbine people--alternating flash, for the luv of all that's good in the world ALTERNATING FLASH). Got the kids home by eleven-ish...so thrilled to have spent the day together. Twas indeed a much needed respite from the mundanity of life as it had become....