Briefly

It's been such a busy day! I ended up sitting with Rachel's elderly lady from 12-5 today & had to get my own chores done here first. Just got home and need to leave again to go to book club. That caffeine is going to go over very well tonight.

So I think I've mentioned that this lady (Audra) has some dementia. And she gets very irritated when she can't tell me what she wants to tell me. Today I was aggravating her by trying to get her to get up and interact with me. Whenever she'd wake up, I'd pounce on her (figuratively, of course) and talk to her or try to get her to look at a magazine. One time I was doing that and she was closing her eyes and pushing me away. I kept doing it. She finally opened her eyes, looked at me, and told me what she always tells us when we're leaving: "See you later, alligator!" She then closed her eyes and went back to sleep, leaving me laughing out loud. Well done, Audra, well done.

Independence Day

Happy 235th birthday, America! Hope you make it to 236!

We still have not had the celebratory reading of the Declaration of Independence. We've been a bit messed up on our schedule today. Rachel had to work at 8, so I dragged her out of bed to do that and drove her out there, leaving her with my phone as the place where she works has no land line. I then went to the home of our friends to check on their dog, who had run off yesterday while they were out of town.

When I made it home, one of the cars was missing. I was informed by the children that Dad had left to go get Rachel "because she was sick." I knew she'd lost her voice but I didn't think she was really sick, just voiceless. Turns out that the lady she works for didn't want Rachel around her mom (who is 94-years-old) because she was worried that her mom would get an even worse case of what Rachel has.

I called the lady and asked if she wanted me to come over and take over for Rachel. It was raining cats and dogs here and the lady's business is running a gardening school so I didn't know if she'd take the day off or not. Turns out she was going to go to work anyway so I came over to clean house, do laundry, and watch her mom.

Her mom is a remarkable woman, especially for her age. She gets around very well with a walker and has the sweetest disposition. Usually. Today she was not at all pleased with me. I couldn't understand what she wanted so she finally got out of her chair and dragged me down the hallway to turn on the light in the bathroom. After which she said, "24/7!" and sat down again.

Audra suffered a stroke 25 years ago. You can see it somewhat in how she holds her right hand and sometimes in her right foot and the right side of her face when she's really tired. She has trouble remembering things and communicating some things. Looking back, I realize that she had flipped the chair side lamp on and off a few times, probably in a futile attempt to get this dummy to turn the bathroom light on as she wanted it. But because she could not tell me in words that I could understand, I didn't do what she wanted.

Independence. Audra has a certain amount of independence. She wanders around the house and does what she wants to do, most of the time. She's not immured in a nursing home. She sees her family every day. But she's still somewhat dependent on other people and when those people fail to understand her needs, it must be exceptionally frustrating. I felt so badly for making her suffer that this morning. I think I did as much as I could do but it still wasn't enough.

Don't really know where to go with this so I'll close. How's that for independence?

Bullet Blog

See, here's where it gets hard. I don't have anything interesting to say and I don't have a lot of time in which to recount my randomness. But then there's that whole discipline thing. Yeah. Ok, here goes:

• It's hot. Not hot like it is in OK, but hot enough for here. I spend a lot of time cowering in the house.
• It needs to rain. See above.
• Tomorrow is Independence Day! It is my most favorite holiday of the year! And last year I was too sick to do more than go, "Huh, it's July 4th and I'm missing everything."
• Garden seems to be doing ok. I've put a lot of work into it this year. It had better do ok!
• I would really like a Reuben sandwich for supper. I'll probably have a salad.
• I wonder how a salad with sauerkraut would taste?
• I'm very sad that my sister still isn't in contact with me (her choice, not mine). Can't do anything about it and, no it doesn't wreck my whole life but it aches.
• We had visitors at church. Sort of visitors. They used to live here and worship with us but they live in MO now. Whitney was the angel of mercy who watched the twins for me when they were young so I didn't go completely out of my mind. Now the twins are almost as big as she is. Check it!
• 
• My muse is tired.
• I spend way too much time online. Good night for now!

Yearbook me

It is very sad what I waste my time on. I did a bunch of Yearbook You pictures just now because I'm tired and don't want to work. Later tonight I will berate myself for not having done my work, if I don't get going. So I guess I will. After I post the pictures.

The tea party was lovely, of course. Except for my doing a major crash and burn on Friend Priscilla's front porch when a doormat went out from under me. Not much beyond my knee and my dignity were damaged. I hate being a klutz. The Tea Ladies liked their scrapbooks, what I had finished. I went ahead and gave them to them anyway. I don't know why. I guess I wanted a sense of getting something off the list and that seemed like a good deadline to use.

Now I have to do my August paperwork. We have to send reports back to Ethiopia every August until the twins turn 18, complete with pictures, health reports, etc. So I need to get those done before the agency sends me a dirty letter about not getting them in on time. And I have to do my usual homeschool prep paperwork for the district, not to mention the general homeschool prep. But first, weird yearbook photos of me.

Oh, and I did take a picture of that emerald pendant that Friend Husband gave me for our anniversary but it's on Rachel's camera, which is not in the house at this time.

So so tired

or Lessons I learned from blueberry picking

But first:  the wedding was so lovely!  It was the first wedding I've attended (since my own) that I have not sniffed and sobbed through.  I just cry at weddings.  I cry at weddings on TV.  It's just in my nature, for some as-yet-unknown reason.  I think I did not cry because I was so amazed at watching members of the wedding party cry as the wedding continued.  The groom was rubbing his eyes as he walked down the aisle with his father (who also performed the ceremony).  He continued to blink away tears as they stood there watching the procession of grandparents and mothers.  And he began anew when his lovely bride came to the end of the aisle to begin the traditional walk (to the tune of the Love Theme from Romeo and Juliet (Zefferelli)...very cool!)  The groom's brothers (who served as groomsmen) were also teary and the bride finally succumbed, at which point the groom started laughing.  Still, it was very touching.  And since everyone else was crying, I didn't need to.

The ice cream social in the garden outside the building was also very very fun.  I can't remember if I've ever seen that as a reception idea but I hope that at least one of my dozens of girls thinks it's a cool idea for her wedding.

A few wedding photos:

Mr. & Mrs. James Melton

Don't they look like something out of Bride Magazine? 

Immediately upon hitting the outside, my children insisted on showing their hillbilly cred by taking off their shoes:

and/or throwing them in the picturesque koi pond, complete with fountain:

There was much happy visiting.

and the fountain pond was a major attraction:

Can you believe the cuteness of that girl?

Of course, she and her siblings had naps on the 3 ½ hour drive out there:

Sadly, Friend Husband and I did not have the same experience.  We had a nice chat on the way home but we were definitely ready for bed at 2 AM!

And then there's this morning.

It has become a tradition for us to go pick blueberries at a local u-pick farm every summer.  Last week, I rashly promised the girls that I would take them today for the first picking.  Last night I started hedging my bets.

"I'm not sure we'll be able to go pick blueberries tomorrow, girls."

This was met with great indifference by Sarah but great indignation by Rachel and Abigail.  I sighed and said that we'd have to see in the morning what condition Mom was in before we made the final call.  Thanks to David's early waking, we were up well in time for the 8 am start.  So Mom, Rachel, and Abby trekked down to pick blueberries this morning.  I mused, as I often do when conducting any sort of sustained activity, and here are a few things I thought about:

If you can manage to drag your sorry carcass out of bed, you probably will feel better in the end.  I was actually cheerful about the whole thing by the end of it all.

My children do have work ethics, if they involve anything that they like.  We were just talking last night about how we need to boost their work ethics and here they picked their little fingers to the bone with great amusement and no complaints.  It just goes to show...

I just adore the outside world and it gives and gives.  The older I get, the more I enjoy being outside and contemplative.  I don't know when that started and I suspect that it gives me the musty aura of an old woman with a "potting bench" but I don't care.

People will talk about the most amazing things as though you are not there.  I heard all about someone's breast cancer and mastectomy (and not one of the two women who were discussing it!), complaints about bratty children, recipes, restaurant reviews, and, on occasion, someone showing their not-nice side right out there to the whole world.  I wanted to say, "Hey, I may be stuck right in the middle of this blueberry bush but I can hear every word you say...you might want to put a lid on that."

The process is as important (if not more so) than the product.  At this stage of the game, I am very product-oriented.  I want to have something to show to say that my time on the planet has been worthwhile.  I think part of the beauty that was knitting in the beginning was that I was digging the process as much as the product.  Since I'm such an overachiever (right) that is no longer the case with knitting.  When we started out this morning, I was all about getting the blueberries and getting home so I could go back to bed.  I started picking with that in mind and was annoyed when berries were difficult to get or dropped where I had to pick them up.  That wasted time!  And motions!  I could feel my heart pounding and my breathing become more shallow.  I'm glad that I realized what was going on, stopped, and made myself enjoy the unique position of being utterly surrounded by blueberries, sunlight, and fresh air.  I approached the picking as sort of a meditation.  And when the old frantic soundtrack would play, I'd say, "Go away!  Why do you want to rush?  To go home and do laundry?  Clean house?  No, grade papers.  It's better here."  It was marvelous.

Children are so so precious and it's worth it to stop, talk with them, and be with them.

It's not a competition.  We picked for maybe an hour and got enough to get us through the week with maybe a little to freeze.  The berries were wonderful (I always think they taste like flowers would taste if you ate fragrant flowers).  We got in line behind some folks who had 8 (yes 8) buckets full to our 1 ½.  The line was somewhat long and I didn't know that it was moving kinda speedily and the old frantic competitive part of me zapped out and said, "Let's go pick more.  They have LOTS AND LOTS.  We need to pick more.  We're slackers."  I actually  had to stop and tell myself several times, "It's not a competition."  Maybe those people were from far away and they can't justify coming back the next time the berries are ripe.  Maybe they're locals who just don't want to come back another time.  Maybe they just want to eat a whomping big batch of blueberries this week.  It doesn't matter.  We had enough for us and I love going back with the girls and picking more.  Of course, the competitive Lori doesn't squash down easily so I had to squash and resquash but she finally got the message.  It's not a competition, ok?

And now with those bits of philosophy out there cluttering up the Innernets, I'll bid you adieu whilst I seek out the comfy pillow for a wee nap.  Happy weekend, everyone!

Spring Break

It's spring break around here and since Friend Husband is home, I have a lot less time to dottle about on the computer.  I totally missed Monday Memories yesterday as we spent the whole day dealing with the taxes for the year.  This is when I realize that I am hopelessly unorganized and this is when it costs me time and energy.

One of the things we couldn't find was the babies' Social Security numbers.  We were not allowed to count them as deductions last year because the adoption was not finalized in the U.S. until March (although it was finalized in Ethiopia the previous July and they were living in our home from August on).  So we didn't have old tax forms on which to rely, as we do for the girls.  After searching most of the morning, I volunteered to go down to the SSA office (thankfully not the one in downtown Cincinnati) and get replacement cards for them.  Fortunately for me, Sarah went with me and the twins.

Once we got there, we realized that the wait would be long and arduous.  The waiting room was packed with people whose facial expressions ranged from unhappy to belligerent.  I sat down in the back, with the twins in their double stroller, waiting for my number to be called.  After about an hour, the twins got restless and tried to bounce out of their stroller. Rather than annoy my fellow sufferers in the office, I took them outside to stroll up and down the sidewalk in front of and around the building.  I gave the number to Sarah, who stayed in the waiting area, and told her to come get me when they called the number. 

When they finally called the number (after 30 minutes of walking and saying, "Look, green car...red car...silver truck...silver car" and being hit up for small change by a panhandler), I was around the side of the building and Sarah frantically scanned the horizon looking for me.  When I came into the waiting room, the SSA employee looked at me with vast irritation on his face.  Well, excuse me for trying to keep my children occupied quietly while we wait out the afternoon in your nasty waiting room!  He lightened up a bit when one of the twins (I can't remember which one) kept pointing at him and saying, "Dad?"  (They did this to every man in the waiting room yesterday.  I have no idea why.  Most of them did not look like Friend Husband at all and it's not as though they're 9 months old anymore.)  It didn't occur to me until we got home and I was relating to Friend Husband the stories of our trials and travails yesterday that the twins are African-American.  The men in the waiting room had no reason to believe that the twins' dad was caucasian and they're naming all of them off as "Dad".  Somehow that just struck me as hilarious and I rolled on the floor, thinking about it.

Anyway, we finally got the precious slips of paper with the needed numbers on them and proceeded out the door.  As we were leaving, the twins waved to everyone in the open room and said, "Goodbye, Man!  Goodbye, Man!"  The faces were much less grumpy, at least for a while.

I don't know what we're going to do for the rest of spring break.  I'm planning to get the house a little more ready for company (Friends Judi and David from Texas!) and attempt to knit my infuriating KAL dishcloth.  I don't know why I'm having so much trouble with it but I am.  I always end up with the wrong stitch count.  Anyway, those are my plans and I'm sticking to them!

Baby, it's cold outside!

Yes, I am a wuss. I know that some of my Blogger friends deal with this on a regular basis. But I don't and I am here to tell you that it is officially cold outside.

That's the thermy right outside my very own kitchen door. Brrrr!

And here's a vision of the sun shining through the icy trees in my back yard last night.

I thought the sunrise was amazing this morning until I realized that I was viewing it through an increasingly foggy glass part of my door as I waved goodbye to Friend Husband yesterday morning. Once I got a good look at it, I realized it was the standard lovely sunrise as seen through glassy trees. (When you look at it through the foggy glass, it's pink and blue and yummy.)

So, I've been in the house. I should should should be quilting. I am knitting instead. I decided to knit coasters instead of dishcloths for a couple of my church lady friends (this year I'm giving them all knitted dishcloths for their birthdays. Except for the ones receiving coasters.) Those babies just pump right out and they are adorable. Sadly I don't have a picture of them but I will, soon. I'm using the Grandmother's Favorite Dishcloth pattern, but only knitting half of it. I even knit in the absolute dark last night on my way (with Friend Husband) to try out a new Indian restaurant. And I didn't make a mistake. Yes, I'm gloating. I like new skills.

And the Indian food was marvelous! Occasionally I will get a "spice buzz" after eating something wonderful. I had a good spice buzz going last night. Oh. Yum. Good place: Bombay City Restaurant on Wooster Pike, just past the Kroger in Mariemont, if any of you live in the area and want to give it a go.

Ta ta! Have a good weekend!

Totally random Saturday

The rest of the family is off visiting the Creation Museum in Northern KY this morning.  It is very peaceful here in the hacienda! 

I ended up having to bail on WW this morning because I spent the whole morning trying to get the children in a state fit to be seen in public.  I'm quitting the organization anyway but I wanted to go to the last couple of meetings just to have done it.

On his way out the door this morning, David ran under the table and somehow looped his arm through the shoulder strap of my purse.  Naturally, it was open and of course, everything started to come out in sloooow motion.  Likewise I was moving in slow mo and was trying to keep the guts of my purse inside the bag, even as it was streaming out through my fingers.  It irritated me greatly.  I realized that it is the perfect metaphor for my life right now.  I feel like my life is just falling out and falling apart and I can't work fast enough to keep the guts in.  Or something like that.

And while I was looking for images of spilling purses on the Internet, I found this picture of a coffin purse:

There's only one person in the world (well, maybe two) who I can think of who might want to carry a coffin purse.  Being the brain dead person that I am this morning, I was intrigued by the mirror.  I'd never thought of putting a mirror in a coffin.  Why would you do that?  I pondered it way longer than I should have until I realized that the thing is a purse.  It makes sense to have a mirror in a purse (although the sense of carrying a coffin purse is up to debate, I think).

Welcome to Tom and Justin, my latest subscribers!

I finally found the fabric that I'd been trying to hunt up to put together some of the 9-patch blocks that I received this year in my swap.  I think that the things are breeding in their little plastic bags!  I find them everywhere now.  I've got to get back to quilting so I can sew some of these babies up so they can stop reproducing themselves.  I mean, they're sweet and all, but there are only so many things I can do with them.

I would like to reproduce a quilt that my grandmother made.  It makes an interesting use of 9-patch blocks and yet is simple.  Here is the quilt (and my sweet Aragorn who was making overtures during the photo shoot):

It was much prettier before I had to wash it half a million times with OxyClean in an attempt to remove Chinese red ink with which the twins had bedaubed it liberally.  Upon more coherent thought, I should have just left it alone.  The ink remains but the colors in the quilt are rather faded.  It is also very warm and heavy because it has a hefty batt.  The girls and I are continually engaged in guerilla warfare over this quilt.  I love to sleep under it in the winter time because it's so heavy and it's so very very cold in my room.  They like it for the same reason except that it isn't cold in the room where they sleep.  I think I'll go hide it so I can have it tonight. 

Here is the basic block:

Please note the floral fabric in this block.  It is recycled curtains!  Definitely a no-no for today's quilter but Mamaw, having been raised in the Depression, would not think of actually buying specific fabric for quilting until she'd been doing it for a while.  I don't think any of the fabrics in this quilt are 100% cotton.  In fact, I suspect that the batt in this is an old blanket.  But I digress.

Here are a few blocks along with the red fabric that I finally found in my stash.  I discovered, much to my chagrin, that there isn't much red fabric.  I'm thinking that perhaps I'll make the triangle points that are bright pink in Mamaw's quilt with the red.  Maybe some kind of whitish homespun or shirting fabric for the floral pieces surrounding the nine-patch, then I don't know what for the light pink squares.  Any suggestions?

And before I do that, I have to finish those charity blocks and that dishcloth that is going to India on Monday.  I tried to knit on it yesterday but the places where the yarn slides were too raw.  I consulted with Friend Gina and she said that she never gets knitting calluses so my hands must be dry.  I need to get on that and get it finished.  Oh yeah, and entering grades, yada yada yada.  Hear that tinkling sound?  That's the sound of the guts of my life falling out again...