Try again

I got some beets from someone at work and I think I've already messed up cooking them. I skinned them before googling "how to prepare fresh beets" and apparently you're supposed to do that after they've been cooked. Oops.

I will miss your bright eyes and your smile

From this valley they say you are going
I will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile
For they say you are taking the sunshine
That has brightened my life for awhile

Come and sit by my side if you love me
Do not hasten to bid me adieu
Just remember the Red River Valley
And the one who has loved you so true

I visited my folks one weekend about six months before Dad died, and he and I watched Prairie Home Companion while we had lunch. A blushy smile crossed his face when Meryl Streep appeared and it made me grin inside because he was always a bit transparent when he thought someone was pretty. There's love and death and faith in that movie and I may have been primed for some heavy feeling because of it, but I looked over at him toward the end of the movie and was simply crushed by the knowledge that our days together, our conversations, our sharing life was nearing an end.

And then they started singing. From this valley they say you are going, I will miss your bright eyes and your smile ... and I cleared my throat and tried to hide my tears. I doubt I was successful in that, and that's quite all right. I'd prefer he knew.

My sister and I sang that song to him when he was in the hospital the week before he came home to hospice. He was floating in some other world at the time, but we sang the words we knew and hummed the lines we didn't, and it felt good. I hope he heard and I hope he liked it.

It's been 13 months since his death and we all seem to be having a little trouble lately. I should reword that, really. It's not trouble, it's feeling things we didn't feel as strongly last holiday season because it was simply too fresh. On one hand, oh man am I glad to think of him and have him in my dreams and sift through memories of giving him nail kits and watching him shave and hearing him bark about grades, but on the other hand sometimes I want nothing more than to hear, "Oh hello, Missy! You look pretty today," and it just kills me.

I miss him.

I'm blushing

I've been reading a lot of the {W}rite of Passage posts today, and thought it might jumpstart my lazy ass into writing a bit more and writing a bit better. The only drawback is the first subject we're to write about: An Embarrassing Moment.

See, I bury that shit. I take a shower, wash the clothes I was wearing, make white noise when my mind drifts that way, and over the years have dumped loads of soil on the glow of embarrassment and tamped it down. Hard.

So to look for it? I find myself walking a mental tightrope now, skating over the surface of the truly humiliating (God no, that's too much) and the superficial happens-to-everyone embarrassments.

How about a nice middle of the road memory?

You know when you're old enough to drive but still 12 years old inside? When you like a boy and you and your friend maybe cruise past his house for that giddy little kick? I knew it was a stupid silly smitten thing to do, but we still did it. I wanted to see the living room light on and picture him watching Saturday Night Live, maybe beep the horn and have him wonder whether someone out there was thinking of him.

I remember driving past that house two or three times one night and on the final pass, my friend stopped her car in the middle of the street and laid on the horn.

I threw myself facedown on the seat and punched her in the leg to make her MOVE MOVE MOVE. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw the porch light come on and his younger brother hustle out to the car. He was used to girls honking as they drove by, and seemed a little surprised we weren't there for him. My friend asked if his brother was home, and the rest is lost to white noise.

I have no recollection of what was said, if I spoke with the guy I was interested in, if we peeled out, nothing. But we did end up dating for a few good years, and if a little embarrassment on my part was enough to let him know I wouldn't be averse to going out on a date, so be it.

Busy night

I have to admit, there was some serious clock-watching on my part today. From 8:00 to 5:00 time seemed to stretch, but afterward was a different story.

My friend Hope and I had made plans to meet at the grocery store after work and chit-chat while we got whatever we needed for tomorrow. The stoplights were on my side, so I was there maybe ten minutes after punching out, but then I waited. And waited. And waited.

Turned out she waited too, but on the other side of the store. I'd been staring for almost a half hour at the gap I expected her to walk through, and thought GOD BLESS when I saw the back of her tiny self propelling a cart down the aisle. We figured out pretty quickly that we'd both been present but in different areas, laughed and decided we need a back-up plan for next time, then split because we were both running late.

Matt had IMed me earlier, "What are we doing with the chicken in the fridge? It's leaking," so I figured it was finally thawed and we'd have roast chicken tonight. I got home with an armload of groceries to find that yes, that fucker had leaked to all points south of its resting place.

That meant that before I could put the groceries away or the chicken in the oven, I needed to pull out the entire bottom half of the fridge - drawers, glass, frame - and wash it. I slammed a few things around in frustration, disinfected the surfaces, put it back together, and stuck the damn chicken in the damn oven.

While it was cooking I did the dishes, three loads of laundry, put away old laundry, put away new laundry, made rice and acorn squash, changed the sheets and blankets on the bed, and cleared the dining room table of every bit of clutter.

Not bad for a Wednesday.

Where the heck am I going?

There must be a game tonight and a lot of out-of-towners fumbling around, because driving through a 1/2 mile stretch near campus I avoided the following:

• Car stopped in the middle lane of Michigan Avenue, far from any stoplight. Just stopped, cars piling up behind him. The driver darted into the right lane when enough people gave him a wide berth and completed his turn about 200 yards up the road.
  
  
• Car driving merrily through a red light, oblivious to the blaring horns of those he nearly hit and the more polite WTF beeps from those wondering why he continued on.
  
  
• A car left dangling ass out when the light at Michigan and Harrison turned, blocking a lane and a half. Those trying to ease around him eventually took pity and let him halt two lanes of traffic in order to back up and drive to the next turnaround.
  
  
• Unattended car left in intersection of Grand River and Abbott with hazard lights blinking. No visible damage.
  
  
• Driver in the lefthand turn lane deciding he meant to make a right. Across two lanes of traffic.

Just checked a schedule and it appears we're playing Gonzaga tonight. Hope everyone driving made it safely to their seats.

Winter prep

Although I'm not quite ready for weather that requires preheating the car, swaddling myself in scarves, and leaving the warmth of the bed every morning, at least the yard is prepared. I raked and bagged the last of the leaves and clipped the faded peonies and hostas. I left some leaves around the roses to insulate them a little (did I read that or just get lazy and think it sounded good? are you supposed to mulch roses for the winter?) and am waiting for the final buds to develop just a bit more before cutting them and letting them bloom inside. I promised one to the neighbor girl, so I hope they continue to grow for just a bit longer.

Over the summer she asked to come over and check out my flowers a number of times, and it was pretty neat to discuss where they were in their cycle, why this one produced pods when it was done blooming and that one produced berry-looking things, why the one peony made buds that didn't flower, and what each plant is named. She came over twice today, once before the great clipping and once afterward, and helped me figure out where to move the dianthus next Spring.

Willy snuck out two bones to chew on the back porch while I worked, and it was a hard job getting the boys inside when I was done. They must know these warm sunny days are in short supply, and I think they wanted to make the most of it. I ended up leaving the back doors open for an hour so they could come and go as they pleased.

I'll be ready for winter when it hits (love the snow and sweaters and crock pots and gloves), but in the meantime I'm savoring days like today.

Tonight

• I witnessed Matt's pimp walk. It's jaunty but perhaps best saved for special occasions.
  
  
• Saw a movie that wasn't very good, but the company I saw it with? Stellar. Times two.
  
  
• Took my hair down immediately upon our return and the curls looked much nicer than they did when I'd banished them to a ponytail a few hours earlier.
  
  
• Will be going to bed before midnight with a clear head, full heart, and a book in hand.

A good day

It's been a good day.

A day of reflecting and reading and interesting dreams. A day of showering late, eating big, and loving the people in my life. A day of peace and prettiness and inhaling autumn air.

I couldn't ask for much more.

Music

It's rare that I deliberately listen to music. Strange, because I do appreciate it, but ever since 1992 or so it's just not something I seek out. However, on those nights I pull it up, put on a CD or pop in a tape, I get totally immersed. I never hear the lyrics. The shape of lyrics, the beat, the changes, that I hear.

Snuggly

I broke out the Snuggie tonight.

I was watching a movie and thinking about going upstairs to grab a blanket when I realized I had everything I needed right there in the room. Sure, it was tucked in a bag to forestall teasing from non-Snuggie lovers, but it is blue, fleecy, and dammit it was there for me on the first night I considered closing the windows.

It lived up to its name.

Solid at the line

Bowling season has started again, and while in past years I've done wonderfully the first few weeks and watched my average dip lower and lower with each consecutive match, this year I decided to start out crappy and go up.

Matt suggested part of my trouble tonight was hopping at the release (not recommended, as you may hop left or right and yank or push the ball instead of letting it go smoothly at the line) and I was reminded of some advice he laid on me a few years back:

Get solid at the line, honey. Like you're sitting on the toilet.

Don't ask me. Why not just a chair? But I'll tell you this: that is advice you can't help but remember.

Found in Drafts

I was very close to publishing a post about how rubber bands have become all shoddy lately and stretch to ridiculous lengths within one day and have basically become one-use, but then realized no one needs to read about my ponytail holders and why I'm disappointed in the manufacturer all of a sudden.

But if someone were interested, please tell me why I have rubber bands from five years ago springing back like they were fresh from the pack while these new ones suck.

Also, the dance-off scene in Starsky and Hutch? Pretty fucking sweet.

To any who may be concerned: totally sober, just in a very strange mood and I happened to catch the dance-off scene in Starsky and Hutch earlier tonight. Awesome moves.

Cacaphony of coughing

Oh, we are sick here.

Coughing, sneezing, aching joints and the chills - we got it going on. Matt came down with the plague a few days ago and tried to give me pursed-lip kisses to protect my fragile immune system, but what's mine is his and what's his is mine, so please just kiss me properly and hand over that nasal sting and heavy chest.

He's feeling better today and since I'm running about a day behind him, I expect to feel some improvement tomorrow. In the meantime I have rediscovered my love for Theraflu with Mucinex chasers, made a huge pot of soup, and scheduled a steamy shower and Snuggie wrap for this afternoon.

If you have a magic cure, please leave details in the comments.

No more treats for you!

These f***ing dogs. Matt brought home a couple of Big John's subs after bowling tonight, and I had three bites of mine before wrapping it up and protecting it with a remote, then going out to switch the cars in the driveway. I came back not one minute later to find two dogs standing over an empty wrapper and a well licked floor.

They're getting braver or brazen or both.

I wonder how they liked the hot sauce?

Tabula rasa

Ahhh, that feels good.

It's been coming on for some time, this wanting to wipe the slate and start fresh. I was the sort of kid who tore out diary pages almost as quickly as they were written, so it's pretty amazing most posts survived for as long as they did.

Now this place feels like a brand new notebook. Fall season, first day of class.