The appearance of lilies

I'm back. Yep, that was a quick break, I know, but it helped immensely. It's nice to walk away from the computer, even if it is for only two days. It's funny, but I lost a follower in those two days--what is with that???! Sheesh, somebody couldn't wait.

I'm still riding high on Col's graduation as we are starting to make the circuit of parties. It's really amazing how fast their childhood really goes. It is true how you blink and it is over. Col ended his with some honors--the ropes are for Honor Society and for Tri-M, the music honor society. He graduated in the top 10% of his class, which is pretty good considering there were 451 graduates that night. Okay, I'll end the boasting here--give a mom a break, okay?

Hey, the lilies bloomed this week too! Two lovely fat blossoms appeared on the surface and swimming in the shallows are also about a cabillion baby minnows--proof again that life in the pond is ever-changing and wonderful.

My life seems to be like the pond lately--where the surface seems calm and serene, but underneath, there is activity stirring. Lots of activity. Maybe too much activity. Isn't there a saying like that about ducks?? I think I remember something like that.

I'm gonna rest on this day and think of my buddy, George. He just received his headstone last week at Abe Lincoln National Cememtery, where President Obama is speaking today. Think of him if you happen to see the coverage.

Happy Memorial Day, pallies.

Tassels and Tussles

Colin graduated Thursday night. It was a lovely ceremony, filled with beautiful music and moments for all in the hot gym. I teared up a bit, but it wasn't nearly anything in comparison to the moments that sneak up on me lately in the most inopportune times. Nothing like bursting into tears driving to work in ridiculous traffic. Yeah, it's that silly.

Things here in Weirdville are crazy and I haven't figured out what I have less of these days--time or money. Graduation parties are double and tripled-up on every Saturday from now until next June--including our own. At the rate I'm spending the dough, folks coming to our house are gonna have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich buffet--IF they are lucky. The bright side to that is that our menu definitely won't be duplicated at any other party, I'm sure.

The calendar and clock seem to be in a conspiracy of late, each demanding that I be here or there with no excuses. I'm finding myself making list after list, trying to keep my sanity intact. It's slowly not working and I'm getting frazzled.

I'm taking a few days off this weekend and again in a week or so. I've got some obligations scheduled with a sprinkle of fun mixed in, and I don't want to lose my cool with trying to blog in the interim. I'm always afraid to leave the blog for any amount of time, but I know I'm faithful to your blogs when you need to take a break, so I hope you'll do the same here. I'd leave Hobbes in charge, but you know that he'd be writing about things like overstuffed pigeons and the annoyances of burs in your fur--not exactly high entertainment.

Hey, Happy Memorial Day weekend, pallies!! May you all remember those who gave their lives for the freedoms we take for granted. Enjoy your BBQ's and picnics in the warm sunshine. Go sit out in your yard and be thankful for all those men and women who guarantee our freedoms both in the past and in the future.

And if it rains.....grab the remote and watch war movies. I've personally got a date with "Kelly's Heroes" on Monday. Woof!

Bring Out Your Dead

We have had lots of small pets in our day (fish, frogs, hamsters, etc) and it only stands to reason that we've had a lot of little funerals as well. Hence, we have a pet cemetery on the not-so-large grounds of Casa de Kautz.

As much as I love the little guys, hamsters and fish have a very limited life span and it just wouldn't be fitting to toss their beloved bodies into the trash. Nope--everybody under the one pound limit gets a funeral at our place, complete with tears and fond words of love and remembrance. When it comes to pet funerals, we do 'em right.

So, while we have tender hearts, we do not have a very large piece of property here in Weirdville and when I refer to the back forty, I mean feet, not yards. And while you admire the thick green carpet of grass in the photos, you gotta know that almost 98% of the yard is gardens and very little space for things like grass and pet cemeteries. When somebody goes to the Great Beyond, I'm totally scrambling for burial space. And when the cats die--don't even think about taking their carcasses for a home burial--it ain't happening.

The problem with having so many gardens is that you are constantly moving and planting things all over and there isn't much space for a body to lie undisturbed. So, over the years, we've sort of designated the landscaping in the front of the house as....you know...Heavenly Acres. Bushes and shrubs don't get moved often, so there was the perfect spot for Keith the Fish or Muffin the Hamster to lie for all of eternity.

And while I get credit for a lovely funeral and services, rarely does our grief lead to tombstones for the dearly departed. Oh, there are a few rocks with hamsters' names on them, but it was starting to creep me out and I finally just painted one rock with a fish on it to remember my earliest generations of pond fish. It's more of a marker really, a reminder to Joe not to dig up the soil there, just in case he might unearth a skeleton and completely freak out a kid in the process. It's worked so far, nobody has been traumatized. Well, not yet, anyway. God help the new homeowners should we ever move.

I went out to water the other day, and as I dragged the hose out front, I found a sweet sight. Apparently Mother Earth decided to remember the dead as well and took it upon herself to plant a flower right at the stone that marked the eternal slumbers of our departed fish. I guess my efforts to honor the earth and its beings has paid off--it seems the earth chimed in to remember its own as well.

That's the kind of stuff that makes my day--simple joys, funny happenings, silliness in the world around me. Maybe others don't have these things happen or care if they do. Maybe it is just me that notices. Either way, it makes me laugh. Life is good. And apparently, so is death.

Well, at my place anyway.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

I went out in the yard after dinner to relax,
and this is what I am met with:

Really??!


But it isn't so ridiculous until you realize
where he is sitting.

Uh, no, we don't get birds in that bird house,
just in case you were wondering.

Now I know why.

Put your lips to the world

When I first entertained the thought of blogging, my biggest influence for delving into this medium was author Jon Katz. I read his books, loved them and his style of writing, and then got hooked on his blog. He combines writing with photography, animals, deep thought, introspection, and well....life.

I read his blog daily and soon got up nerve to contact him personally through email. We exchanged a few emails discussing this or that, and he gave me the encouragement I needed to finally get back to expressing myself through the written word--something I did and loved as a child.

We wrote of blogging and filters, and mostly about letting go and opening up to the outside world. I have to say, I thank Jon for pushing me onto that "rickety limb of doom", as I called it--he encouraged me to tread into waters unknown, with my heart open to the world. Or whatever little readership I had at the time.

I got the chance to meet Katz in person a year or so ago, he was in town for a book signing. I had a great time talking to him about photography and again, boundaries and filters. It was nice to meet someone who had such an impact on me--I wonder if he ever really knew how much he inspired me.

I no longer read Katz, for personal reasons. Sometimes we don't always agree with or like what others do and it makes it hard to like them after that. So, while I don't read him anymore, I do stop by his blog periodically just to see what's going on.

And I did that the other day.

I hadn't been there in long time, but he surprisingly wrote a line from a poem that he quotes often and that I have posted on the wall by my computer--it is Mary Oliver's "Mornings at Blackwater". It is a poem that Katz loves and it inspired me as well--brought me home, so to speak. I get emotional when I read this poem because it changed my life.

Mornings at Blackwater (Mary Oliver)

"For years, every morning, I drank
from the Blackwater Pond.
It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.

And always, it assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.
And live
your life."

It's funny how your life is fluid and changes with time like a river. It's odd on who comes in to change the course of things, makes you think a little differently, or who sticks a pebble in just the right place to make the current of your life move just a tad differently.

Find the Frog

It takes awhile for the frogs to become comfortable around us enough to not dive in the water the minute we appear. As silly as it seems, I always talk to the frogs when I'm out there, hoping that they will get used to us being outside and on the patio. It's kind of fun for visitors to actually see that we really do have frogs in the pond. Kids get the biggest kick out of the frogs for some reason.

The big frog is slowly getting acclimated, but he was thinking we couldn't see him in the patch of clover this one day. It was funny to see him scooting his butt back thinking we couldn't see him. It worked though, Hobbes couldn't see him and walked right past.

Another day, he just lowered himself (herself?) into the water, thinking I couldn't see him if he couldn't see me. You'll have to enlarge the photo to appreciate his submerged head with his big bottom sticking out. Apparently sitting in the plant was just too nice and he didn't want to leave.

Sigh. Even the frogs are wacky at my house.

Only in my yard.......

As the weather has turned lovely, almost hot, I'm finding myself out in the yard or on my bike a whole lot more. The blog is tough to keep up with these days--posting as well as visiting and commenting on the pallies' blogs. It seems the earth is calling, drawing me to walk barefoot on the cool grass and sit with my face in the warm sunshine. There isn't enough hours in the day to do all I want to do and still sit and enjoy it all a bit.

It finally got warm enough for the fish to go out in the pond again. The fish are happily munching on algae and reacquainting with those pesky minnows, glad to be back in much larger waters. The inside tank is prison in comparison to the pond. I'm glad they are back out there again and I think they are too.

We have two fish now--one that is quite large and one that is....well....impaired. I think he is a product of inbreeding, but he is mentally impaired--swimming in circles constantly and does the oddest of things. This poor little guy is much smaller than his sibling and has definitely got something wrong with him.

The larger fish seems to know there is something wrong with this little guy, so she doesn't hang out with him much. It's kind of sad, really, so I think I'm going to break down and get the bigger fish a new friend. Goldfish are very social creatures and they need a friend or two. So, while little fish has spinning and big fish, big fish kinda needs somebody to do some fish stuff with and tell fish jokes to. Hence, the trip to Petsmart today.

They had better not make baby fish.

I have always wanted a turtle for the pond, but they are very difficult to keep from what I understand. Apart from the fact that they destroy all your plant life in the pond, they can also just up and walk away--something I'm not fond of after dropping $25 on a stinky turtle. They also have to have a water/land tank for the winter and quite frankly, I'm sort of sick of bringing in the fish as it is. I need to downsize responsibilities, NOT add them at this point. So, no turtle. Sigh.

And just for the record, Joe is very anti-turtle in the pond. Whatever.

To compensate for the turtle ambiance that I am lacking, I bought this little turtle that floats around in the pond all day. Okay, don't be pointing out that it is a sea turtle and a pond would never have a sea turtle because they live in the ocean and I have a freshwater pond--that's all they had at the garden store. So I am stuck with non-cohesive turtle ambiance. Sigh.

And while I'm sort of disappointed with the lack of turtle options at the local garden store, apparently the frogs think this turtle is just fine.

The "Greta Garbo" of cats

CardioGirl requested more photos of Grace the other day, worrying that perhaps she wasn't getting our full attention. Hobbes is hogging the spotlight apparently or I'm (gasp!) favoring somebody here on the blog. I feel the need to explain because god-forbid I'd be accused of liking one kitty more than the other. Criminy, it's worse than the kids.

Grace came to us 12 years ago and was an only cat for most of those years. And while she enjoyed being the only cat, she secretly wished we could have dumped those two kids as well to make her the only "child" in the household. Heaven on earth for Grace would have been living with just Joe and I, and even Joe was iffy.

Grace is not big on attention. She doesn't want anyone to pet her or fuss all over her. She doesn't really want anyone to say "hello" to her or come over and plant a giant smoochy on her head while she sleeps. Cuddling is on her terms and typically reserved for me between the hours of 5:40 - 5:45 in the morning when I am in the bathroom.

Rarely is the occasion when she'll come over to sit with me. She doesn't want to touch me when she sleeps on my bed and she hates to be held. She'll take a nap with me, but it is clear on the other side of the bed and she'll get up and leave should I reach over and give her a pet or two. She is lovingly referred to as the "Non-Pet".

Photographing Grace is difficult as the minute I approach her with the camera, her ears flatten and she half-closes her eyes in disgust. So, while I try to get some sweet photos of her in the flowers or laying sweetly on her chair, she just emanates a miffed attitude and I end up with photos of one grumpy cat. Needless to say, I just end up taking photos of Hobbes who is typically standing right there doing something cute. He's just an easier target most days.

So, while her exterior self is screaming "Go away, you fools" her inner self is quite the opposite--she is a goofball. She is silly--sneak attacking me from under the couch when I walk by in the dark. She'll play "I'm gonna get you" endlessly--hiding behind tables and corners, jumping out to grab my shins and mewing loudly should I grab hers.

She loves nothing better than jumping on the bed and rolling around when I make it in the mornings and sits on my lap while I blog hop. She's on this kick of laying on the kitchen table and counters now that Hobbes got the mulligan for that awhile ago, and she will chase the feather toy around like a kitten for hours.

So, rest assured, CardioGirl and pallies, that Grace is indeed loved every bit and more than Hobbes. She gets more than her fair share of Mom Time and is actually more of "my girl" than Hobbes--she just would rather be more private about it. And while Hobbes grabs the limelight, Grace would rather be in the background, waiting for me in the bathroom where she knows we'll be alone.

Lucky Bug

My pally, VanillaSeven, tagged me the other day to play the "8 Game". You know, where you go into your photos, open up the 8th folder, click on the 8th photo and post it.

Look what I found--go figure. And it isn't even my bullfrog!

We were out at a local nature preserve that is chock full of bullfrogs and turtles. I found this old man (well, I think he is anyway) with a cricket on his back. Good thing it didn't go closer to the frog's mouth! Well, that frog looks pretty full anyway, so maybe a tiny cricket wouldn't be on his stomach's radar at the moment. Lucky bug.

VanillaSeven says that part of the game is to tag 8 others to play along, but I've noticed that this is making the rounds this week and nearly everyone is doing it. I'm gonna pass, but why don't you pop in your photo files to check which photo you would have chosen. It's kind of funny to see what you find. Maybe you'll find a frog too, who knows?

Hey, it's Friday, pallies! Hooray! Go forth and relax, my friends.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

The secret to catching an Orange Stripey is this:

Lie perfectly still in the grass and say, quite loudly,
"Where's the kitty?"

Soon enough, temptation gets to him and Hobbes appears behind some plant
pretending to stalk his prey. He absolutely cannot resist
anyone out in the yard!
(click to enlarge)

Gotcha!

Drum roll.................

Clear the dance floor, put down your cocktails, kick off your uncomfortable dressy shoes, and get ready for the winners of Prom King and Prom Queen 2010 Duck and Wheel style!

Although the competition was stiff for the gals, Jodi earned her crown with that crazy straight/ruffled metallic mess of a dress she was wearing. Although her translucent skin, giant funeral bouquet, and creepy date helped her score the tiara, Kimberly totally claims Runner Up--should Jodi pass out in the ladies room or something. Casey and I stand there, open mouthed, unbelieving that we didn't win that damn crown.

Joe with the Cinnamon Roll Hair is her man for the evening--wiping out the competition for Prom King against tough competition from Nino, "The Minister". Secretly, I think that velour-looking brown tux was the clincher--I mean, who doesn't want that as their date?? (Uh....ME.)



Imagine now that the lights dim, the newly crowned couple takes the dance floor, and the rest of the prom goers all gather round to watch the King and Queen dance to some lame Prom song like "Love Will Keep Us Together" by the Captain and Tenille. Ahhhh, sweet, eh?

Kinda glad you stayed home, I bet.

The "Last" Call

This whole Senior Year thing is wearing thin on me. I mean, I'm growing tired of weeping at all of the "lasts" that have been happening lately--the last band concert, the last tennis match, the last day of school, etc. Even Col's last trumpet lesson with his teacher, Bob, caught me boo-hooing on Saturday.

So, what do we do for fun on Sunday? We go to the last CYSO performance for our pally, Ted. Criminy, like we don't have enough "lasts", now I'm going to Ted's too. At least I didn't cry there.

Here's Joe driving to Symphony Hall for the last time.

Em and I entertaining ourselves during intermission.

Here's actually a good shot of Em and I--until Joe ruined it by sneaking in. Dork.

And the required "family" shot after the concert.
Here we are with my son, Ted, and his birth mother, Betty. Check out G'ma Phyl hoggin' the hugs with Ted. Sheesh, my own mother doggin' me!

Ted isn't really my son, he's just a great kid who just happens to be the most talented flute player in Illinois--no lie. He started playing the sousaphone (tuba) when he was younger and picked up the flute about 3 years ago in between learning to play a half dozen other instruments. Now he appears as a principle player and soloist for the Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestra--a favorite venue of our family this year. We're like Ted groupies.

Unbelievably talented, Ted is our Drum Major extraordinaire, #2 in his class of 350 students, on the Wall of Fame at the high school, just got a full ride to Boston University for his flute playing, and is probably one of the nicest kids I know. I adore Ted and threaten to adopt him endlessly, except that darn Betty won't let him go. Sheesh.

I'm gonna miss all the concerts and the fun going to see Ted perform. I'm gonna miss Colin playing the trumpet and playing tennis. I'm gonna miss being silly with the kids and enjoying their friends. And most of all, I'm gonna miss this year of "lasts".

*Don't forget to go to vote for Prom King and Queen on yesterday's post! You have until the end of Tuesday to vote!

"Forever Young"

Being that it is prom season, it is only fitting that the Duck and Wheel holds it's own prom. Thanks to Jodi's suggestion, we decided to push the dorkiness to the next level and have the pallies send in their prom photos. Ah, and they never let us down.

Come stroll down memory lane, dab your eyes as they mist over with fond memories of proms of yesteryear. Be sure to take notes because we are voting here for Prom King and Queen.

1. Casey - Damn, this girl even looks good at her prom! She sends in her "dorkiness" and yet I never see it that way. Casey, you are Beee-u-tee-FULL here! Lucky was the dude who took you.

2. Lin - Okay, so mine wasn't really awful. While Casey is going for the "hot" look, I'm cornering the market on "cute". Dig that pink dress and ribbons in my hair.

Okay, so the dude was some dork from gym class. My boyfriend of two years broke up with me right before prom and I was scrambling for a date. Homeboy was breathing, so that pretty much was the requirement for a prom date at that point. It wasn't much fun, needless to say, but the photo was cute.


3. Shieldmaiden - Yowza! Shield my eyes from all that blue satin and lace!! And check out Nino, her date! Why do I think he's in the mafia now? Or in a blue barrel at the bottom of the ocean wearing some cement shoes.

So, while we are giggling at Kimberly's expense, please remember that in the 80's this was HOT! Big hair, blue satin and lace, big shoulders, and date with a white tux was IT!

4. Jodi - Desperately Seeking Style! Wow. Jodi was rockin' her prom with this number. Okay, so Penny Stephonopolous had the same dress in pink that night--Jodi went on anyway with her giant bouquet and hidden uber-cool Nine West silver sling back pumps. Jodi wants everyone to know that the other side of the dress was straight. Yep, that's right--like the mullet she's sporting, it was business on one side, party on the other. Cool, Jodi. Yeah....no.

Yes, her date was looking snappy in his white tuxedo, but did Jodi really have to match her skin tone to her date's tux?? Nothing is helping this photo--not even the lone fake tree the hotel provided for ambiance.

5. Joe - So, while I'm still recovering from Jodi's photo, I think this one is quite possibly the worst.

Okay, so I'm a little partial, but Joe is one freaking high school mess in this classic. In case you can't spot the dork amongst dorks, he is the dude in the front sporting the BROWN tux and the "cinnamon roll" hair. Yeah, good look, eh? I'm sorta glad he's lost all that hair to be honest with you.

I'm not sure where to begin with this treasure. I mean, look at the backdrop. The hell?! Cigars?? For 17 year-old kids?? And nobody yanked them?! The tuxedos are a mess, the "decorations" worse, and the Seven Dorks frightening.

I literally asked Joe "Did your mother give a sh*t?" to which he replied "She thought she did". And the coup de grace? The prom was held in a car dealership showroom--minus the cars. All class. All class.


Please cast your vote for the following gals for Prom Queen:

1. Casey
2. Lin
3. Kimberly
4. Jodi

And for Prom King:

1. Gym class dud
   
2. Nino, the Italian Stallion
3. Mr. Rourke (Jodi's date in white. All white.)
4. Joe Cinnabon (Don't even think of voting for the other knuckleheads in his photo)
   

You have until Tuesday night to vote. And I promise, there will be no "Carrie" moments after the crowning of King and Queen--we all friends here.

More ukulele tunes, mostly because I like typing that word

There are some really good ukulele tunes out there too. Here's some Iz for ya to ponder on today. Stick through the video to really appreciate the beauty of Hawaii and a gentle soul who left us too soon.



Happy weekend, pallies. Go outside and look for rainbows. See beyond the concrete and fences and your wacky neighbors. Look for beauty in your surroundings, there is always something good to be found.

Still crazy after all these years

There aren't many men in the world that would willingly go with you on vacation where you used to go as a kid, with all the people you used to know a long time ago..........and like it.

Joe puts up with a lot (or so folks say--a LOT), but then again, so do I. He's quiet, I'm loud. He's passive aggressive, I'm....uh....aggressive. He's straight, I'm wacky. He makes Lemon Drop Martinis, I drink 'em. He's Catholic school, I'm public. I tan, he burns. I dance, he has no rhythm.

I know, we are pretty much opposites, but it works. And it has for 22 years. No use ditching him now, eh?

Happy Anniversary, Joe. I love you and I'm lucky to have you.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

Crouching Tiger, Hidden......
uh.....Stripey?

For some reason, Hobbes thinks nobody can see him when he sits in the blue flax. And he also thinks that his not-so-wee body doesn't squish the flowers either.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

I love this plant. I love the blue and how tiny the blossoms are.
I love that it just IS --
and how it waits quietly for someone to stop and admire it's beauty.
Or not.

And that it doesn't have a teenage smart mouth.

Ukuleles are making a comeback. Who knew?!

G'ma Phyl pops over the other day and brings Em a ukulele to jam on. Yeah.....like the flute, the piccolo, and the guitar isn't annoying enough. Add in Col's keyboard and trumpet and we've got ourselves our own Chuck E. Cheese Band.

Sigh. This is my life. And it isn't nearly as cute as this:



Em may not play as well, but she does know the words. So she's got that going for her.

Start digging.....

Okay, so it was Jodi's idea--let's have a showing of our bad prom photos. Mine isn't too bad, although the memory of my date lingers forever--but that's what I get for going with some dude from gym class. Ugh.

Send me your bad prom photos by Thursday and I'll post them over the weekend for some snickers on our own behalf. Oh, heck, why not make it a contest?! The pallies never let me down on dorkiness, so I think we've got ourselves a doozy here.

So, c'mon, let's put Carrie to shame and send me your bad prom photos. Thanks for the idea, Jodi!

Word to Your Mother

Happy Mother's Day, pallies!

May your memories of those days with your mom be sweet
and those things that scarred you for life, well........

may they fade like orange floral chairs.

Me--I'd like to thank the little people for making me who I am today.

Yes, Taylor, I will be blogging about Prom

Friday night ended the already very crazy week with Prom. And while I ran like a nut all week doing have-tos and end-0f-the-year celebrations, it was nice to cap it off with tuxedos and pretty prom dresses. Gees, where did the 4 years of high school go??

Here's Colin posing for the dreaded "home photos" shot:

Colin opted to go dateless and to go with friends instead.
Wise choice, I say. Look at the friends he went with--lovely, eh?

Taylor said this was his "Blog Pose", especially for
The Duck and Wheel With String. He was just
asking for this to be posted.

Here's the guys and their "GQ" pose. When I said that, they
looked at me confused. Apparently the younger set doesn't know
what GQ is.....or was.

Prom pallies Taylor, Julie (to be later crowned Prom Queen!!), Matt,
Stephanie, Colin, and Amanda.

They all had a great time and the party, of course, continues today with a trip to an indoor water park. I don't know who started this great idea, but Prom Night is now Prom Weekend, with the partying and fun continuing for 3 days rather than just one or two.

I don't know about them, but I'm exhausted!

Sunshine on Irises

The alarm went off yesterday morning at 5:30, and while I laid there with 47 lbs of Stripey Goodness on my chest thinking of all that has been going on this week, I heard the weather report of impending cold and rain for the weekend. Ugh. I just wanted to hang out in the yard this weekend, cutting the lawn, sweeping up the cabillions of helicopters (maple tree seeds) on the patio, and planting some of the flowers I bought on Monday.

I quickly made the decision to ditch work for the day, instead having my idea of Mother's Day on Thursday and spending the day out in my yard getting down and dirty with the earth. I loved the spontaneity of the moment and relished the thought of getting some things done around here instead of pushing papers at work. Thank goodness for flexible work schedules!

I love going out in the yard because there are always surprises awaiting me. Sure, there were thousands of weed saplings sprouting up in the back garden because none of my neighbors believe in Weed and Feed, but that didn't bother me. I had the time to putter and the sunshine felt nice on my back while I cursed the sticker weeds.

There were the irises on the side of the house, blooming and enjoying the sunshine with me. I watched the new tadpole sunning his squishy self on the rocks in the shallows of the pond. I busted two snails doing the nasty in the deep end--well, that's what I think they were doing. Maybe they were just eating algae off each other's shells--it was hard to tell. And I figured out why Hobbes loves the neighbors yard so darn much--they've got a catnip plant the size of Manhattan growing in their weeds! They had better not beef about him coming into their yard after I found that bad boy.

See? Surprises. Mother Earth has a way of always surprising me.

Okay, so sometimes there are surprises that come up that aren't so hot, but there weren't any of those yesterday. It was all good. Heck, this whole week has been good--busy, but good.

My gyne referred me to a physical therapist that specializes in pelvic floor dysfunction, believe it or not. And when I talked to this PT, she told me that her whole practice is helping people with the same condition that I have--who knew?! That was a nice surprise, wasn't it?

Good friends of ours may be re-locating nearby -- Good.
My pally's (Wendy) daughter was just announced to be our Drum Major for next year -- Good.
I have 2 new tadpoles and 3 new snails for the pond as of Monday -- Good.
Wendy and I were asked to be a part of the new Education Committee in our school district and were well received -- Good.

It's nice to have a week where good things are happening. We all know that there are plenty where it feels like you are Henny Penny and the sky is falling, but this wasn't one of them. And I don't take that for granted. I'm feeling like one of those irises on the side of the house--smiling while the sun shines on my face for the moment, forgetting about the rain for another day.

Happy Weekend, pallies. May you all have a blessed Mother's Day and spend time with those you love. May you take a moment or two to walk away from the computer to just breathe. Go out and look for surprises in your yard and may they all be good surprises that you find.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

While I'm perusing the baby photos, I might as well post this one:

Baby Face Malone (aka Baby Hobbes)

Can you believe how little he was? Sigh. Gees, even the cat is growing up these days.

After I see my sonny boy off to Prom on Friday, I'm gonna collapse in a heap of exhaustion. Sheesh, what a week it has been! It's been all good--last home and away tennis matches, last band concert and awards night, last band parent's meeting and saying goodbye to graduating parents, the education committee meeting, and prom.

So, while I have missed visiting you all this week, know that I am living life away from the computer and soaking up the last moments of my son's Senior year of high school. It's been bittersweet and exhausting trying to hang onto every last second of all of this. Sigh. It all goes too fast. Way too fast.

I-have-no-words-for-this-Wednesday

Born and raised in Chicago, I pride myself on being pretty streetwise and aware of the not-so-pretty things in life. I also used to work in the trucking industry, so cussin' and off-color remarks and such don't typically throw me. There are few things in life that truly offend me, but this is one of them:

Really????!

I'm just asking what on earth would possess some fool to actually hang this on their car for the whole world to see. I mean, even idiots have moms and grandmas, right? Do they honestly think Grandma would find this a lovely sight while she was driving to the IHOP for breakfast or going to the cemetery to visit Grandpa?

This is apparently the hot new accessory for small minded (and small something else) fools and their vehicles. I'm not sure what the meaning is, but I'm guessing it means their car is "ballin"? I don't know. Can someone clue me in, please?

And can they possibly hang their whatever inside the car so that my teenage daughter and I, who happen to be following this vehicle, don't have to look at it. Try explaining what this is to your daughter when she asks what that is hanging from their car.

The most inappropriate place that I've seen this? Our church parking lot. I think even God would be offended.

A Little Sunday Morning Drama

Early Sunday morning, I opened the front door to grab my newspaper before the neighbors saw me in my jammies, and this is what I saw. Hobbes stalking yet another helpless victim:

DUCKS!!

Big, giant, pterodactyl-sized, loud-quackin',
obnoxious DUCKS!

Hobbes was nearly peeing his pants from the thought
of grabbing one of these bad boys. What he was going to do with a duck,
I don't know,
but he was thinking about grabbing 'em.

Hobbes defeated.

Somehow, they spotted his Orange Stripeyness and took off before he could even think "Duck Dinner". Although he is a stealth hunter, his giant orange ottoman-like body is hard to disguise--no matter how large the landscaping.

He was honestly thrown by the thought that they could take off like that and leave him high and dry. (Check out his "The hell?!" ear he's got going on here.)

Another hunt foiled. Poor Hobbes.

I'm Only

I was having a conversation with a friend yesterday when she said "I'm only a mom...." and then went on with her thought. Those two words got me thinking and I told her that we shouldn't use that word "only" when we defend ourselves as who or what we are.

Fifteen years ago today was one of the two best days of my life--when I had my kids. Being a mom is who I am--first and foremost. It is my first thought when I wake up and my last thought as I close my eyes. It is the deciding factor for every decision that I have made since they were born and will always be. Becoming a mother opened up my heart like I never knew it could and my life was transformed the moment I met my children.

I am a mother--only.

It's funny, but when I am asked what my occupation is, I always answer "homemaker" first, I rarely tell people I work part-time. My job is not what defines me as it is only to make my home life easier, helping bring in some extra cash to help the family with those expensive extras. I don't get insurance through my job or a hefty pay check, so really, the hospital or the doctor doesn't need my employer information or my phone number at work. So, when they ask, I just say "homemaker" or "mom" because that is my priority and my real full-time job.

Today is Em's birthday and she is fifteen. Fifteen is a good age for her, tough age for me. Standing in my kitchen can be the little girl I know and love, but then she is quickly replaced with an evil, drama-induced diva who demands my last ounce of energy and nerve on a moment's notice.

When she comes out in her jammies, I'm never quite sure which Emma I'm going to meet up with and I walk tentatively over to my oatmeal, hoping not to stir the Evil Em. Em is no different than any other teen girl and I get that, and I know that my sweet girl will return to me again someday in the future. In the meantime, I'm patient--endlessly patient.

When I look at Em these days, this is what I see--an eternally 2 year-old Em, wacky, funny, and my little girl. I wonder if that image will ever change in my mind?

I hope not. I'm forever her mom--only her mom. Nothing else matters much more than that to me.

Talk Derby to Me

You can't have a friend in Kentucky and not place a bet or two on the Derby--Fain wouldn't hear of it. So, in between loads of laundry, mowing the lawn, scrubbing toilets, and mopping floors today, I'm gonna put the world on hold for "the most exciting 2 minutes of sports" to see the spectacle that is the Kentucky Derby.

We each have our own way of picking winners--Joe reads the stats, I'm looking for 'mudders' (as they have received an inch of rain this morning), Em picks by their names, and Col just picks a horse, any horse, out of obligation. Not huge wagers, there isn't much in the way of a win around this place, it's mostly for bragging rights and trash-talking later on.

And while Joe is crushing mint leaves for the bottom of our Mint Julep glasses, Fain says that adding all that sugar and water is just wasting good Kentucky Bourbon. I like her thinking.