curlykew » NaBloPoMo

Out Like a Lamb

curlykew — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 02:35:37 +0000

Well, whadya know? It’s November 30th. The last day of NaBloPoMo and I actually made it. There were some close calls, but I figure I overachieved a few times, too, so it all balances out in the wash. I hope you’ve enjoyed this journey with me. I know I’m grateful I did it. It put the discipline in me to do a couple of things. First, to not just exist through each day, but maybe take an extra minute or two and appreciate it, even the days where only small bits mattered. Sometimes those are the most important ones. Second, it just sat me down to blog every day. Regularly. And, while I won’t blog daily now, I do have a goal of 3-4 times per week. I think I can do that now. *crosses fingers*

There were two posts that are worth updating. The first is from November 5, where I talked about my bizarre trumpet dreams. If you click that link, take a moment and read the one reply on the blog. (I do get more through email, and facebook, if you’re ever wondering.) I’ve always learned that once you figure out the meaning of a dream, you probably won’t dream it again. Guess what? I’ve not had a band dream since. I think my dear friend Dale nailed it. And I’m thankful. Who knows? I might be writing about other recurring dreams here in the future. Sometimes we need someone outside of our brains to help figure out what the heck is going on inside of them!

The second is about Anissa, the blogger I follow and thank heavens, many of you have begun following and reading because of her horrible stroke. Her husband has kept everyone updated through her original blog, Hope 4 Peyton. She is slowly coming around and is now officially out of her coma. The road to recovery is very long – longer than any of us can imagine, but she’ll make it. And the day I originally wrote that post? We really weren’t so sure. Please continue to read about Anissa through her husband and when she comes back, I hope you’ll read her and get to know this amazing, strong woman.

With that, I bid you adieu, at least until Wednesday or so. I’ve had a lovely day, simmering turkey carcass for hours on my stove, and making, without question, the best soup I have EVER made. I want to make turkey for Christmas again just for the carcass. Holy cow. I was again reminded one of the many reasons I haven’t gone back to work – a sweet heart-to-heart with my son after school. They are priceless to me. We caught How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the first time in years, finding out that Cartman has some strange infatuation with it. I’ve never seen him stare at the TV like he did for that 30 minutes.

Yes, it’s the little things. Here’s hoping that the appreciation of these little things will keep you reading. I know they’ll keep me writing!

Pause

curlykew — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 00:33:24 +0000

With Halloween being hallowed a full month ago, and the regrets of stuffing ourselves full of…well, stuffing (and turkey and gravy and mashed potatoes and pie…and…and…) have come and gone, it seems the full steam of Christmas is upon us.

Only, I’m not ready just yet. I’d like a pause button. Or maybe an option to pass. Something to make this next month come and go without anyone noticing that my husband and I just weren’t around for the festivities. We’d like to hide away until January, licking our grieving souls, decidedly not pretending to be jolly or merry. Not decking our halls, trimming our trees, silvering our bells. (Woah, what a typo could have done to THAT sentence!!!)

Since the opt out button doesn’t seem available – we do have kids, and eventually a tree in my living room might not sound like a complete nuisance – we’ll take a pause button. No decorating for a few weeks. Little to no shopping until next week (ignoring the fiscal need to wait – ugh). Christmas will come on December 25 like it does every year, but really? Do we need an entire month of it? No, we do not. And we will not. Guilt free.

Today, we took our first pause, ignoring all of the updates of our friends and families telling us about all of their decorations and shopping finds, and went to the park. It’s stark out there right now. But still, beautiful.

Slate Run Park, Canal Winchester, Ohio

Frankly, it sort of epitomized our moods. Quiet. Stark. The necessities of life continuing on. A little bit of color. A little bit of humor. Promises of a new season once this one wears out its welcome.

Still a little color left in the woods

All the single ladies...put your ass up!

And through it all, paused and wintery and dismal, they keep morality on the up and up.

You may harass your children or your mate, but do NOT harass the wildlife

Normally I’m not one for the out-of-doors if it’s not lush and green and blue-skied and sunny. But, the trip today lifted my spirits in a most subtle way. No, I’m not ready to put Christmas candles on my piano top yet. No, I’m not even ready to start baking. I’m not ready to put my Christmas playlist on my iPod or to wrap presents, plan meals or god forbid – shop. I shiver at the thought of shopping.

But, I am ready to enjoy my final evening of Thanksgiving break with my hubby and son. To snuggle up on the couch and eat another piece of pumpkin pie. To look forward to a concert-filled week and frankly, a week where I don’t have to come up with blogging ideas every day. And I’m ready to at least admit that yes, Christmas is coming. And yes, I’ll be there. But no – not just yet.

And yes, that’s okay.

September 26, 2008

curlykew — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 02:33:30 +0000

The 10th in the series Letters to Lisa. I’ve been quite melancholy today, so I thought this particular letter would be a good one to share. It’s more on the humorous side and definitely a bit on the TMI side of things. But you know, she and I shared it all, so why not through these letters as well? Reference-wise, Lyndsey is her cat, Macaroni is mine.

Lisa-

Four months. A third of a year. I can’t believe you’ve been gone that long. I can’t believe the pain is still as strong as it is. Of course, in light of what you meant to me, I shouldn’t be surprised. I continue to long to talk to you more than anything.

Abby got her car yesterday and as Daddy and I stood and watched her talk to Mom, I thought how much you’d love to see the car. We had time to kill and it would have been nice to stop over to your house and let you ooh and aah over her acquisition. As it is, we went to the mother-in-law’s, which ended up being a good choice too.

….later….

Oops. I got called away. Macaroni is being difficult now that I’m settled in to write again. She won’t let me! Which does beg the question – are you angry your family put Lindsey to sleep? Do you get her now forever? Is she well now, too? Oddly enough, I’ve felt guilty the moments I get to snuggle with Mac. Lisa, dammit!!! Tell Mac to MOVE!! I can’t stop laughing – she just sat down right on the notebook!!!

Okay, fine. You’re here with the cat – that is obvious. So, let’s get down and dirty here. I have some complaints. Not TO you, but since you’re here and the closest relationship/connection I have to god – or whoever is running the show – I’m going for it. Here it is.

I want time alone with my husband.

We were supposed to have it tonight. Ethan’s at a game, Abby’s at work, but no. She’s having some sort of anxiety attack at work, or is sick, or something and she’s been texting me all evening – always on the verge of throwing up. You know how gracefully I handle that.

You also know that our ONE couple’s trip this year was ruined due to illness – my own. And now, one bloody special night is going to hell…pft. It’s gone to hell. Alone time. Nice, uninterrupted intimacy. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been graced with such a simple thing, but I can tell you that while grieving, the absence of it feels worse. After my cousin Erin died, Alex and I bonded in such an amazing way and it healed my aching heart so much. Now, the grief is totally my own and we can’t manage such a basic need. I need my husband. I need his strength and passion and touch. I need a fricking break!!! In the global scale of things, am I asking too much!?

Fuck it. What I want? What I really, really want? Is for you to be un-dead. The rest just sort of follows suit.

*whispers*
But really? I’d really, really like to get laid, too.

~Heidi

I am educable

curlykew — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 03:58:29 +0000

Sort of. Today, I learned:

Black Friday isn’t so “Black” when you head out mid-afternoon. The 5 am loonies are all back home napping off their morning rush and the “I’m still eating leftovers; we’ll go out tonight”-ers are still home licking gravy off of their plates.
However, when you’re out on Black Friday for the sole purpose of picking up a clarinet from repairs, it would be polite to notify your customer that’s not ready when promised. Especially since your customer had to drive 25 miles to get there. On, you know, Black freakin’ Friday!
The longer my daughter stays home, the harder it is for me to say “goodbye” when she leaves.
Not having money a month before Christmas is a special kind of hell.
Stumping Akinator, the Web Genius feels entirely more victorious than it should. It’s also a good way to distract daughter from going back to her apartment.
Oh, Mr. Web Genius up there originally thought that Mr. Smiley from Walmart was actually Death. And I think he’s probably right.

Needless to say, it’s been a dull day with little profound, humorous, or noteworthy happening.

And, minus the no money at Christmas bit, I’m not complaining. Hope the rest of your holiday weekend is wonderful!!!

Beyond the Norm

curlykew — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 02:59:19 +0000

As cliche as it may be, there is something to be said for taking time out and being thankful. Consciously listing the things that make our life easier, fuller, lovelier. So, as I sit in my tryptophan-induced haze, I’ll join the chorus of many, listing my blessings. Only, let’s go with the obvious assumption of being grateful for family, friends, health, etc., shall we?

Yes, I figured you’d agree.

The tractor tipping scene in Cars – never not funny.
Hugs…in hoodies. So far superior to just…hugs.
Baby smell. And breath. And giggles.
Wrinkles on the faces of lives well-lived.
The turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy forkful. Especially? The first one of the meal.
Etsy.
Sewing on a button the last minute before we leave for dinner.
The warmth of a cat on my lap.
Pug snores. And chins. And tails. And kisses.
My kids’ heads on my shoulder asking, “When are we leaving?” because as nice as it is to visit, it’s nicer to be home.
“How did you make that?”
Conversations that sound like this:

General chat about Abby’s figure drawing class and the nudes.
Me: Didn’t you have a real heavy, older man last year as a model?
Abby: Yeah. *scrunches up face in disgust* And? He had a really small…
Everyone: *giggles*
Me: Belly button.
Abby: Yes. Belly button.
Aunt Jane, age 83: Was it an innie or an outie?
Daddy’s grace before dinner.
Living out in the country enough that we basically do go “over the river and through the woods”…just, you know…to cousin’s house, not grandmother’s.
Sugar pie when you thought Aunt Jane wasn’t well enough to make it. It tastes sooo much better when it’s unexpected!
Aunt Jane’s face when each of us exclaim, “Wait? What!? We have sugar pie!?”
Coming home and throwing on pj’s before 7pm.
That my son seems to be getting into Adam Lambert, sprinkling his songs in the midst of his loud metal music.
Having my daughter’s feet on my lap as she draws.
Feeling sad about the missing persons in our celebrations and not having anyone say, “He/She’s with you/us spirit.” I don’t want them “in spirit,” I want them in person, thank you.
Knowing that tomorrow, my lunch will again be the turkey, mashed potato, stuffing and gravy pile. And maybe even the day after.
Having so many things to be thankful for on one day that I’m afraid my list is getting too long to keep any readers’ interest.

In the words of my lovely mother-in-law, uttered when there was nothing left to say…

…and that. And so.

Whoops

curlykew — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 05:18:31 +0000

I was supposed to take pictures while Nathan and I made the pumpkin roll and use one of the artsy fartsy ones for Wordless Wednesday.

Except, we flew through the prep, chatted while the thing cooled before icing, iced it, properly licked our fingers and now it’s sitting in the fridge ready to be devoured tomorrow.

And it’s after midnight.

Whoops. So, um…Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I’ll be super cliche tomorrow and tell the world what I’m thankful for.

Tonight? I’m thankful all my kids are home and staying here and laughing together.

Keep my husband in your thoughts, huh? He’s struggling missing his mom more than he expected to…and I? I feel powerless to help.

Going Interactive

curlykew — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 03:10:09 +0000

Today is an audience participation post. So, I expect participation!!

So, I spent an hour or so of my evening at Trader Joe’s, only the best grocery store on the planet. Sadly, it’s about a planet away from this Podunk Holler of a town, but it’s worth the trip.

Anywhoodle, I picked up some basic grocery items for preparation for Thanksgiving dinner Thursday, and of course, picked up some much needed Trader Joe’s only things like, Candy Cane JoJo’s and their delicious Multi Grain Crackers that don’t taste like ~~cardboard~~ most Multi-grain crackers.

It got me to thinking, what are some of your favorite Thanksgiving dishes? What are the required items? The ones that waffle from year to year – or does anything waffle – is it the same every year? Who do you spend your Thanksgiving with? Do you eat a Thanksgiving meal at lunchtime or dinnertime?

Here’s what I’m contributing to our meal this week:

Martha Stewart’s Green Bean Casserole – b/c truly, the cream of mushroom soup stuff?? Wouldn’t feed it to my dog after eating this purely from scratch version
Harvest Glazed Carrots – because easy and delicious make me a happy girl.
Granny Kat’s Pumpkin Roll – because my Aunt Jane is the best cook I know and she LOVED this the first time I made it. So, it is part of what I bring every year.
Peach Pie – no link b/c I haven’t settled on a recipe yet, but I’m leaning towards winging it using Ruhlman’s Ratio book. We’ll see if Nathan’s in a “winging it” mood. Yes, he’ll be my sous chef as my own bio-kids are turdballs and won’t lift a finger in the kitchen.

Required for us are the traditional standards, turkey, gravy, mashed taters, stuffing, rolls. The other sides change from year to year except for my cousin Amy’s sweet potato desserty-not-a-dessert dish. I can’t describe it, but it’s to DIE for and I’m not a sweet potato fan. We used to have a required fruit salad (topped with mini-multi-colored marshmallows) and Aunt Jane’s sugar pie, but sadly she’s just not able to bake and cook like she used to. We’ve adapted to figuring out her trick to gravy as well, but her magic is missing, and NO ONE even tries the sugar pies. They’re hers, thank you very much.

As long as she’s still there to coach us, we’ll make it work. Because to me, those are the standards that are more difficult to give up. The yearly faces, the old jokes, the munching of a relish tray while the kitchen buzzes with last minute activity, Daddy’s grace, Uncle Paul’s beautiful blue eyes. Those are the real traditions. The food is just the means to the end.

So, what are your traditions? How will you be spending your Thursday?

That’s it – I’m moving

curlykew — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 02:27:45 +0000

Before I begin, I don’t plan on making this blog political. However, when I stare at something like I stared at the following video – with my mouth hanging open, my eyelids frozen and unable to blink, my speech faltered and stuck on “What the F-…??”, I have to post. Or say something. Although, really? I think the video pretty much speaks for itself.

Yep, I’m moving out of the Columbus area. Who wants to bag Thanksgiving and come help me pack?

I’m not saying that liking Sarah Palin is a problem, although if I’m going to always bring the honesty to this blog, I do have to question…well, more than I have time to question tonight. But, I have to question. What I’m saying here is, HOW??? can these people be so completely uninformed? Misinformed? Uneducated? Support who you want to support. Buy the books you want to read. Vote for whomever you believe will lead this country the way you feel it should be lead. That’s democracy. Go for it.

But, if you’re going to speak to someone with a microphone and a cameraman, you might, just might…want to make sure you know what in god’s name you’re talking about before you open up that hole in the front of your face.

That’s all I’m saying.

It’s a Good Thing

curlykew — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 04:35:31 +0000

Martha’s been all over FLN this week. Martha’s Thanksgiving Dinners. Martha’s Thanksgiving Desserts. Martha’s Thanksgiving Toilet-scapes. Martha’s Thanksgiving Jailhouse Shanks.

The one thing the woman gets right is her expression, “It’s a good thing.” Granted, her idea of good things, a stuffed reindeer, or turkey place cards, are different than most people’s, but…well…as I close the day down, I’ve thought about a few good things.

It’s a good thing:

to see my daughter in love. To see her eyes shine when he’s added to the equation of her day.
to see someone else in love with my daughter. To see him take her hand as they leave my car to go into their apartment, safe and secure in each others’ presence.
to be called on when someone’s lonely, or nervous or frustrated because for reasons you don’t even understand, you help them in those times and they know they can count on you again and again.
to come home to two happy dogs, who want nothing more than the side of your thigh as a backrest for their evening nap.
to actually enjoy this time living alone with my husband and son. To catch up with the years I had alone with husband and daughter before son was part of our life.
to twitter silly awards shows like the American Music Awards and find like minded and not-so-like minded people all over the country doing the exact same thing. It’s a digital party.
to have an evening with a girlfriend where we can laugh at raunchy jokes one minute, discuss our childrens’ innate evilness the next, and then shed a tear when the talk gets heartfelt.
to know that when I hit “publish” and go upstairs, the snoring man waiting for me will be warm and snuggly and the complete, flawless definition of “home”.

The day might not have gone as planned, but sometimes our plans really aren’t the best anyway.

And it’s a good thing.

I’m tardy

curlykew — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 05:35:05 +0000

But, I have a really good excuse. It’s Anthony Bourdain’s fault. And, some oddball criminal that lives in Mindy’s neighborhood.

I’m too tired for details, but it goes like this.

Dinner at a new Mexican joint. Yum. (Nathan, we need to go some time soon) Seated at a table with calla lilies in the table mural – Lisa’s blessing on my first girl’s night out.

Bourdain. Who? This dude:

Only normally, his hands don't blur

He talked. And swore. And bad mouthed people. And made me laugh. And was hot in his weird not-hot-but-somehow-attractive way.

And then the crowd got weird. Like a flippin’ town hall meeting only the tea baggers were from the Corn Growers Association. What the HELL?

But, he kept talking and acting cool.

Because he IS cool

Then he took questions and the audience was weird again, but he won. Because he’s cool. So, the audience gave in and actually let him run his own show. Imagine that. Oh, and he pimped out Restaurant Widow, one of my fave local bloggers, which probably made her pee her pants. I hope she wore Depends. I?? Would have totally peed my pants.

He was done being awesome for the night and said goodbye. We left. Mindy checked her messages. And, uh – there was a dude barricaded in his home one block from HER home…thus blocking us from getting back to her home…where my car was.

So, we went to Steak and Shake. Oh, yeah, AFTER we saw some dude in a huge pick up truck plow into a parked car in the parking garage.

Peppermint Chocolate Milkshakes. Yummmmmmmmmmm.

And the dude in Pataskala gave up, and I came home.

And what will I be dreaming about?

I know it looks lewd. Shut up. That's not my intent. Totally.

How was your night?