Em Saves the Day

Well, sorta.

When we first ventured out into the big snow that we got a few weeks ago, we looked around the corner of the garage only to see a big fatty hawk sitting on our fence, ready to pounce on the birds who visit our feeder. And while I'm all about "Rule of the Jungle" and "Survival of the Fittest" and all that, I was miffed that homeboy had nerve to camp out so close to the feeder.


And when we made all sorts of racket to scare him off, he didn't budge. He had some nerve, that guy.

So, we sent Emma to get him.

The plan was for her to make a move towards the hawk to scare him off and save the world. But we didn't plan on how freaking deep the snow was--or how ungraceful Em is:



I nearly peed my pants as my kid fell face first into the snow.


I'm thinking that hawk came to our house for the entertainment value. Sorta like dinner theater, eh?

They're kinda like groundhogs.....only cuter

Do you know what happened while we were all moaning and groaning about snow and cold and such?

These guys reported to work in Arizona.

Yep. So while we are all convinced that winter is gonna last forever and spring is never gonna come, the Boys of Summer are coaxing the nicer weather up north and sending us hope that warmer days are actually gonna be here.....someday.

They are actually going to start broadcasting games on the radio in a week or so. And while I can't be sitting in the warm stands watching the game, I can close my eyes and listen---and smell that popcorn in my mind.

It's coming, pallies. Spring is coming. The Boys told me so.

Time out....

I just need a minute to breathe.

February is Stupid

I was driving home from work yesterday and listening to talk radio as I usually do. I like talk radio, it's how I get my news and current events, but it drives my kids nuts because they think I'm old when I turn it on. Whatever.

So, like the rest of the city, the talk show host was bemoaning the fact that we were were in for a snow storm that evening. Not the snow storm of a few weeks ago that dropped 20 plus inches of the white stuff, but it was a snow storm just the same. Everybody is sort of sick of snow at this point and February isn't over yet. We still have March to go. Ugh.

More snow, more winter. More ick, more cold.

He sort of wrapped up his thoughts with something his co-worker said that morning:

"February is Stupid"

Yes. Yes it is. And I'm gonna be glad to see it go away. I'm just hoping that March isn't stupid too.

And just in case you were wondering if your car thermometer descends below zero--it does. See?

I Love Hobbes Thursday - Better!

Okay, so this getting sick every February is kinda getting old with me. Silly cat.

Hobbes is feeling much better after his bought with his vaccines. And while we all knew he was the sensitive type, nobody quite knew to what extent. I guess he can't have his feline leukemia shot anymore--Hobbes' butt doesn't like it very much. Sheesh.

Thanks, everybody for caring so darn much.....again. I'm beginning to think he likes to stir up drama just so everyone tells him how much they love him.

The good news in all of this is that I really like the new vet clinic we went to. The doctors and staff were so kind to him and didn't push a lot of meds or anything dramatic. There were lots of smoochies and "awwww, poor kitty"'s, which made us both feel better. And it was a nice twist to have the doctor calling here yesterday to find out how he was doing. I guess we made a good decision to switch after all.

And if you ever wonder what Grace is like when Hobbes is sick--she is wacky. Girlfriend all but dances around the house, snuggling up to mom at every opportunity, and playing "I'm the favorite" until it is downright obnoxious. If I didn't know better, I'd say she had something to do with all of this. I swear she has plans to "off" him.

Okay, enough sick--we are moving on to adventures.....

Apparently the vet thinks there is too much Stripey Goodness

After Hobbes got sick last February, we decided that we needed to find a new vet. While ours was nice enough, she did not have any diagnostic equipment or the staff to truly fulfill our needs. And whenever an emergency arose, we were farmed out to local vets who could help, but that ended up being too stressful for me. That and she was constantly telling me my cats had FIP and were going to die. I kinda grew tired of that roller coaster of needless emotions.

So, off we went to the new vet the other night with Hobbes in his giant carrier.

My little buddy did just fine, getting his shots and behaving himself while the vet and the office staff oohed and ahhed our Stripey Goodness. And the vet was gentle when she suggested that homeboy needs to shed a few pounds. Ugh. I guess I knew that was coming.

Things were all swell until I came home from work yesterday and found him all curled in ball, refusing to greet me. Crap.

Hobbes is sick again--like last year. And it just happens that it coincides with his vaccinations. So, off to the new vet we went...again. But this time, she didn't tell me that he had FIP or that he was going to die. She examined him, loaded him with fluids, gave him a shot of cortisone to reduce the inflammation and gave us lots of directions. She doesn't think he's in danger, but we need to watch him carefully. Apparently Hobbes is uber sensitive to his vaccines. Great.

So, our little buddy is not feeling so great. He's eating a bit, but feeling all fevery and cranky. I tucked him in his basket by the fire and hope this passes quickly. In the meantime, I have a team of 6 doctors, a cabillion staff members, a groomer, a boatload of diagnostic equipment and some fresh new opinions on how to get him better.

But a little prayer wouldn't hurt either...

*UPDATE* Hobbes is much better this morning (I post late at night). He is still stiff, but his fever is down and he is eating a bit. I will change the title of the post--sorry for the scare!!

Box 'O Sunshine

Ooooh, I got a nice surprise the other day--I came home and found a box on the front porch sent all the way from sunny Florida.

It seems, Casey, recently moved into a spiffy new abode that came with an orange tree in the backyard! And while they were all busy unpacking and painting and such, that darn orange tree just kept dropping juicy oranges all over the place.

So, she grabbed those two cute kids that she's got and forced them into manual labor--having them pick some oranges for Aunt Lin. Graham proceeded to get himself stuck in the tree, so they had to wrap up the harvest pretty quick, but it was enough to fill a box to ship to me.

Ahhh, and those bad boys were GOOD! Nothing like a sweet box of Florida sunshine and citrusie yumminess. Joe and I had a full week of juicy goodness in our lunches thanks to Casey and her gang.

And do you know what else she sent?

Yep, kid art for my refrigerator so that I could pretend it was the old days when my kids actually brought home stuff to post on my refrigerator.

There were tissue-paper mosaics, a ground hog puppet (which I LOVE), a lovely homage to the Number 1 with a green pom pon strategically placed by Elliot, and Oval Man. *sniff, sniff* It was like the old days again. And now I just miss my kids being little even more.

Thanks, Casey, Graham, Eliot, and Jamie (who didn't know it, but sent me the Mother of All Oranges) for your sweet surprise! Happy New House!!

And Happy New Orange Tree!

Who comes up with this stuff?

We had our final competition for dance this past weekend and the team didn't fare so well. We experienced what the band refers to as a "transition year"--one where we had a new coach and some wrinkles that needed to be ironed out. And while Em had fun, I was at my wits end for the wrinkled mess this dance season was or wasn't and I was gonna hurl that iron at someone before it was over.

Anywho...

Em had a great time dancing and I certainly had fun going to the competitions and learning about something I had no idea existed. It's a whole new world, this dance team competition--one that is chock full of big hair, make-up, sparkly costumes, and lots and lots of attitude. It's all very girly and very competitive--neither of which is me. But I went and soaked it all up and enjoyed.

And I'm gonna cool ya'll up by introducing you to the world of Kick Team. It's what I refer to as "Competitive Rockettes"--and you'll see why. This is what goes on at dance competitions all over the country:



Cool, eh? My legs hurt just watching them.

You're gonna kill me....

Thanks to a dance team at yesterday's dance competition, I've been singing the first stanza from this damn song all morning.

Feel free to click it "off" after the first minute or your head may explode:



Ugh. Nothing like Robyn Williams buzzin' around your brain all day.

Clean up at Table 1

We're recovering from the Jazz Band Dinner Dance that was last night. And we're hurting, not from the laughing, dancing, and cocktails---it's from hauling all those freakin' prizes home! Pull up the semi, Joe, we've got prizes to load!

Table 1 and Table 2 were big winners last night, with prizes galore scattering the tables. It seems that if our table wasn't winning, it was Wendy's. I think the other tables were secretly (or not so secretly) jealous of our stack-o-prizes.

Joe scored a Silent Auction win with a family package--tickets for 4 to the Planetarium, Museum of Science and Industry, some water park hotel in Michigan, a local baseball team, and a pizza. His proudest moment though, was his big win of a $50 gift card to a local pub and eatery. Nothing boosts that man's ego like that of a win of a raffle prize. I'm just glad that it was something good--not like Red Riding Hood doll prize that he was threatening to dump some tickets in.

So, the big winner of the night? G'ma Phyl with a total of 5 prizes won! Dang. Girlfriend sends me with some cash to "donate" towards raffle prizes and she kills on the wins. This morning, she is knee-deep in candles, bagels, restaurant gift cards, and gardening supplies. And while we were all "excited" that G'ma Phyl cleaned up, it was us who had to haul the giant baskets of doubloon out last night. Gees. Nothing like a little salt in the wounds...

At least our prizes weren't too big--Wendy's mom killed with the win of two patio umbrellas, bagels for a year from Panera, and a patio heater. Joe called it a night of the "Grammy's"--where all the Grandma's did all the winning. And he was very proud of himself for making that funny.

And what did I win? Nothing. But that is because Joe only puts his name on the raffle tickets.

February Frogs

I love Chicago weather. Two weeks ago we had 20.5 inches of snow fall upon us. Today it was 60 degrees and all of those 20.5 inches are all but gone, leaving us puddles and mud in its place.

Whenever the pond thaws in winter, I run out to find the frogs popping up for fresh air. I'm not sure how they know they can come up, but they do, and I like knowing they are alive and well in those murky waters. It's good to know that they are surviving under that thick snow and ice that sometimes covers them.

Gone are the opossum tracks in the snow and our lovely world of white. Found is the Christmas tree in the yard and mucky brown grass.

Well....until Monday........when it is supposed to snow again.

Alice doesn't live here anymore....

The phone rang yesterday afternoon,

"Rosemary?" said the voice on the other end.

"Nope. No Rosemary here." I said.

"Rosemary?"

"No. There is no Rosemary here, ma'am." I try again.

"Is this 555-1212?"

"Yep."

"Rosemary?"

Ugh. "No. You have the wrong number. Are you dialing area code 111?"

"Yep. 111-555-1212. Is Rosemary there?" asks my determined friend.

"Yep, that's my number, but there is no Rosemary here." I try to convince her.

"Are you sure?"

Sigh. "Yes."

"Oh."

No Rosemary, but I give her points for persistence.

So Every Day

So every day
I was surrounded by the beautiful crying forth
of the ideas of God,

one of which was you.

--Mary Oliver


The other day, a co-worker of mine sent me a Mary Oliver poem by chance, not knowing that she is a favorite of mine. Author Jon Katz introduced me to her work a few years back and both Jon and Mary were inspirations behind my blog. It's just funny how every so often, one of the two of them pop up somewhere and remind me to keep going.

There are days when I have a bunch of stories to tell and still more others when I have nothing. Those are the days when I still myself and have the world whisper its stories to me. The pond, the garden, a bug, or even dirty old snow can offer up a tale--its just a matter of taking the time to listen.

I'm not gonna say it....

We have this friend who uses the term "(fill in the name) is an idiot" all the time as a joke. She does it in jest quite often, so it's one of those terms we've all just sort of picked up over time after being with her. It's all funny except for when you aren't with her and folks think that my saying "Joe is an idiot" is horribly mean. Yeah, well, I don't really mean it.....

except for when he uses the video camera.....




Seriously, who takes video of the lamp during the largest snowstorm to hit Chicago in 10 years?

Joe. Because, well......

Be Mine

Love--I've got lots in my life:

• two great kids
• an even greater husband who tolerates the ups and downs of me
  
• two goofy cats
• those wacky frogs, fish and whoever else visits the yard to make me smile
• great friends who laugh with me (and sometimes at me)
  
• a colorful family who's wackier than me
• blog pallies who make being online so much fun
  
• and a life I am lucky to lead

I'm wishing you all much love in your lives too!

Goodbye Snowdrifts

You know the snow is deep when you can't even walk out of your garage. Sheesh, that was brutal.

I'm saying goodbye to giant snowdrifts this week as the temperatures are reaching a balmy 40-45 degrees all week. Okay, so we are all gonna be a muddy mess--who cares? It will be nice to see another color besides white.

And Hobbes can actually go outside again.

Little Dogs

I have a nasty little dog in my life.

When I say "little dog", what I actually mean is it's a person who yaps at my heals and barks incessantly to annoy me. I have been dealing with this person for a few years now, and until this person retires next year, I'm stuck with his little dog ways.

This little dog is in a position of authority at Em's school and I have had more than my share of run-ins with this dude. And while it would be easy to walk away and just roll my eyes, I cannot. Nope. I gotta stand up to the little dog and ignore his yapping and barking which is meant to scare me away while he pisses on my leg.

I cannot stand inept people in the workplace, and I really cannot stand it in our schools. For what we pay teachers and administrators, there has got to be a way to get rid of poorly performing teachers, which can been monumentally impossible if they have tenure. Tell me what other job is there that has job security like that?

Ugh. Don't get me started.

Okay, so I'm breathing deep and going to higher-ups again about my dog friend. I am weary from the battle, but I can't just ignore the issue. All his huffing and puffing ain't scaring me away--sorry. And all that ankle biting and snarling isn't going to cover the fact that he is just a lame little dog who can't do anything much more than bark.

Wish me luck. I've never felt like kicking an animal so much in my life.

The downfall of comfort foods

So, Samantha walks by my cube at work the other day and stops to chat. She's feeling discouraged about getting older and putting on weight so we were discussing the carrot sticks and other unappealing items in my lunch.

"I'm getting so fat," she sighs, "I don't fit into my clothes anymore."

And I just nod my head in support because, hey, who hasn't been there? Hence the carrot sticks on my desk.

"I went from a Size 12 to Size 'Stretch'." she says in total seriousness, to which I just started cracking up.

Yeah, hibernation does that to us.

It's the Catholic in Me....

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned...."

It must be the Catholic in me because that is what I think whenever Hobbes hangs out under the chairs in the family room. Is it me or does he look like he's hearing confessions?

Maybe he's waiting to hear something juicy?

Whiny Wednesday--by demand

So, who is sick of ice and cold and snow? Meeeee!

Who has a bad cold and sneezes all day at work? Meeee!

Who doesn't think Hobbes is the cutest thing ever? Graaaaace!

Who is feeling sorry for herself/himself? .......uh....all of us?

Ozark Mountain Cats requested Whiny Wednesday where we can all unload a bit on what is bothering us these days. While the weather is getting some of us down, there may be other, less obvious things in our lives that have our undies in a bunch. Why not share those miseries and let us all be done with them once and for all.

Leave a comment and unload, my friends. We are amongst friends who support, care, and send an internet pat on the back. And while we are not psychologists or doctors, let's keep the complaints light-hearted---I can't be any more miserable than I already am with this damn cold, okay?

I shall start us off:

Here's my bummer:

This whole being sick AND having hot flashes at the same time. I can't figure out if I have a fever or not. I'm like a broken thermometer--burning up one minute, freezing the next. Makes sleeping very interesting because I have the covers over my chest, but the rest of my body is out from under them. I'm a mess.

But on the plus side:

Irene says "Bless you" each and every time I sneeze at work. And being that I sneeze like a cabillion times a day lately, poor Irene has got to be on her toes. Girlfriend doesn't miss a one--I love that about her.

Okay, your turn.....

Gearing Up.....

Every February, our Jazz Band holds a fundraiser Dinner Dance at a local banquet hall. It is a great evening of good food, a few cocktails, the rockin' Jazz Band, raffle prizes and a silent auction. This is our largest fundraiser of the year and everyone attends decked out and ready for fun.

Joe gets ready to win some major prize--every stinking year.

His quest for the Big Win started a few years ago with his score of the Mutha of all Prizes. While it is a long read, you might consider taking a few minutes as then you can appreciate that it isn't all Joe that does the tolerating in this family. I've been known to put up with a few things in my day as well.

Ever since he landed the big fish at that one Dinner Dance, Joe mentally gets ready for what he's gonna score each year before he goes now. And then he peruses the raffle tables like a shark eyeballing his intended victim. It's ridiculous and nobody notices but me--which drives me even more crazy than I already am with his antics.

Last year, as he was drinking a cocktail and yakking it up by the Silent Auction table, the chairwoman corralled him into upping the bids--essentially writing in high dollar amounts to light the competitive fire in the bidders. So, Joe, the sucker, does just that---on nearly all of the prize packages.

I'll tell you he was sweating bullets when the Silent Auction winners were being announced. I think we would have owed a pretty penny to the band if others didn't step up and bail his butt out. This happened the year before to our pally, Wendy--girlfriend got soaked for hundreds of dollars worth of prizes that she didn't necessarily want or could possibly use.

Her warning apparently fell on deaf ears.

So, thinking he's in for it, Joe got lucky and only won one prize package--a night stay at the hotel around the corner from our house. Not kidding. I mean, the question wasn't whether or not we would use it, it was do we drive or do we walk there to claim our prize?

Guess where we were last Friday night? Yeah, sitting in a king-size bed watching HBO on a huge flat screen TV--in a hotel less than 3 blocks from our house. We are idiots.

The Dinner Dance is in two weeks, but already, Joe is talking about what he's going to try to win. Sigh. Just once I wanna hear "Poor Lin". Just once.

Color Me Monday

If I could paint Monday.....

a Monday were the temps were going to hover at zero all week, one where I start the new week with a raging sore throat, where I miss my kid at college and my money even more, where hot flashes make me boil one moment and freeze the next, and where I have a cabillion places to be and a trabillion things to do.....

it would certainly look like this.


Happy Monday, pallies.

SuperBowl, SchnooperBowl

What are you watching today?? Me, I'm anti-Super Bowl. Me, Em, and the kitties will be tuning in to Animal Planet to watch the big game there---Puppy Bowl! I'd rather watch a bunch of cute puppies slobbering around for an hour than a bunch of big thick-necked men slobbering around the football field. It's just not my bag, sorry. And not even the media-induced faux interest of all the food and ads sways me. Nope.

Give me Puppy Bowl and add in Kitten Halftime with the Hamster Blimp and we're in hog heaven.

In case you were wondering....

No, Hobbes is not going out in the snow. I think the mere height of it just scares the bajeepers out of him.

You can find him snuggled in by the fire or beating the crap out of Grace.

Dueling Snow Angels

Why is it that our yard was the only one with snow angels? Don't kids do that kind of stuff anymore?

Thank goodness I've got Em to go along with me on things like this, because I'm convinced the rest of the world are fuddy-duddies.

SNOWmygosh!

Unless you were all wrapped up in that boring old groundhog or the excitement in the streets of Egypt, I don't think you missed the Snowmageddon that fell upon Chicago in the last day or so. Gees, we got nailed. 20.2 inches fell upon us and we are still digging out--it isn't pretty.

I did plan ahead and tried to pry Mary Ellen the Weather Goose from her spot behind the shed for the occasion. I thought "How fun to have Mary Ellen measure the snow for us!", but alas, she was not cooperating--she stuck her ground and refused to budge.

Literally. Her concrete butt was stuck to the ground. Sigh.

So, I did the next best thing--I grabbed Howard the Tomato Plant Stake and put him into action. I even tied red ribbons on the bars, measuring each as I went along so we knew exactly how much snow we got. I wasn't planning on going out there with my ruler, pallies--this was a "life-threatening" snowstorm according to the news.

Here is my brilliant snow-measuring scene:
(note the Christmas tree still by the shed)

And while the snow came down, I shut the drapes and waited for morning.

Here is the snow report as of 9:00 a.m.:
(Note that Mary Ellen the Weather Goose got very jealous of
Howard the Tomato Plant Stake and she suddenly appears to
help us out--or just get in on the fun)

See how the tree is just gone?! EEK!
And while this does not look too bad, please know
that there were 60 mph winds that created drifts
and this was actually the low spot in the yard.

The final report came around noon, when the snow
finally stopped. In the end, the final measurement
was 20.2 inches.

Mary Ellen did not find this as amusing as she
thought it would be.



Here is a "before" of the pond:

And the "After" shot:

The heater is at water level. It keeps an air hole
open for gasses in the pond to escape--which
allows the frogs and fish to live.

Another "Before" shot:

And the "After":

I think you can see we are not exaggerating when I tell you that we were overrun with snow. It took us a full day to remove the snow from the driveway and help with the neighbor's. It nearly killed us all.

So, unless that damn groundhog had stilts, homeboy wasn't reporting from Chicago yesterday. But Mary Ellen was.

Bread and Milk for Everyone!

We are in the midst of a blizzard. Yep, it's a full-blown, we-are-getting-24-freaking-inches-of-snow type of blizzard. You know, the kind of blizzard that all the weather forecasters tell you to go buy bread and milk and your boss gives you the nod to work from home.

Sigh.

I watched the opossum footprints around the pond slowly disappear under blowing drifts of snow yesterday and I wondered where the little guys are in this horrible weather. I sure hope they've got some opossum bread and milk stashed away in their crib.

And while I'm sure the groundhog isn't making any appearances in this neck of the woods today, I just have this sneaking suspicion that spring isn't coming any time soon.

"I'm a GUY!"

We have this friend, Bill, who makes me laugh until my sides ache. Endlessly wacky, Bill is notorious for his high-pitched girly "Helllllooooo" when he answers the phone at his house. Those of us who know him know to say "Hi, Bill....." and go on from there. But there are those who don't know Bill and proceed to say "Hello, ma'am. May I please speak to Bill, please". To which he responds in a deep gruff voice "I'm a GUY!!".

He does this all the time, and of course, we all laugh at the joke---every single time he does it. It is funny after all----when you hear him do it.

This leads me bill-paying online--which I typically like, except for the fact that I have to remember to actually hit the "Pay now" button in order to pay my bills. And while that little quirky fact actually caused me to miss my car payment due date by 8 days this month, I found myself calling the creditor this weekend to tell them the payment is on the way.

I love all this new privacy stuff because, as the bill-payer in our family, I cannot actually discuss our accounts with the utilities or creditors because they are in Joe's name as the primary account holder. I don't know what my title is, so, if there is ever a billing error or such, I have to have Joe call and deal with it. Yeah, privacy, shcmivacy. It's swell for getting things done like paying the light bill. Ugh.

Freaked out enough because I missed a car payment by 8 days in error, I made the mistake in calling the creditor to tell them payment was on the way. I wasn't calling to get credit in Joe's name, emptying our joint bank accounts, nor even unveiling his secret identity--I just wanted to tell them how I forgot to click the "pay" button and I was sending the money immediately. Silly me.

I realized after I had given them the account number, Joe's social security number, and his mother's maiden name, that they were not going to listen to me. So, I did the unthinkable---I pulled a "Bill"--I said I was Joe. With a girly voice, no less.

While the dude absolutely did not believe that I was Joe, he listened politely as I rambled on and on about online bill-paying and how I have never missed a bill in my life and how I am mortified and how the payment is coming electronically in a day and could he please waive the fee and please check our payment history and he could see that we always pay on time and we always pay more than our actual bill and....

And I wanted to scream "I'm a GUY!!" so that he'd just listen and put the notes in our file so we don't get a collection call or something.

Now I'm thinking that maybe Bill's got something there and it's not so silly after all.