This boot was not made for walkin'

It's been a week.

A week of sitting on my butt. Should be relaxing, don't ya think? I've got my 'puter, my phone (unless someone walks off with it and forgets to bring it back), my tablet, an assortment of books and notebooks (but never a pen where I can reach it!) and the TV remote, some of the time. And even a cup of coffee, most of the time. Sounds like a mother's dream.

Or a nightmare.

But really, more like a HUGE inconvenience. I guess I'm not the lazy slob I thought I was. I really do prefer the house to be reasonably neat and clean, and I guess I really do prefer to do it myself, rather than sit around all day asking the almost-teenager to do it. Even though he needs the practice.

Because I am BORED! I can't believe the crap they put on TV, my selection of books fails to interest me (since I seem to fall asleep after only a few minutes of reading) and one can only spend so much time on Facebook before going absolutely insane. I'm getting close. And where's my pen?!

So four more weeks of this boot cast. I'm told I'll get used to it, like anyone can get used to walking around with one leg 4 inches shorter than the other. That would be difficult for a normal person, but with my history of falling off a sidewalk curb while wearing athletic shoes, the odds are not in my favor.

That's what I did, really and truly. Fell. Off the curb. And broke my foot (proof that if you take enough x-rays, the dr will find the teeny tiny fracture that's causing inordinate amounts of pain and swelling and a gorgeous shade of purple). And sprained my wrist/thumb. And bruised my knee (more purple, my favorite color). Forgot to tuck and roll.

At least I didn't bump my head. This time.

So, I've got to have a challenge to my day, but this is ridiculous. And I need to exercise. Hobbling around Target does not count.

Must. Walk. The Dog.

Time for meds. If it doesn't rain I may just attempt grocery shopping. Maybe I'll get to drive one of those scooters around and terrorize other shoppers.

It all happened so quickly ...

I still love the heat. Nothing better than a hot summer day, I say. So on any hot summer afternoon, you can find me outside, enjoying the weather, maybe playing with my dog.

And that's what we were doing yesterday ... afternoon, maybe eveningish (that is so a word!). The sky was cloudy, maybe darkening a little. But that was in the east, and the sun was setting in the west, so that made sense, at the time. I wasn't expecting any storms, and if I was I'd be looking southwest, as that is where most of them come from. But not east, definitely not east. Not from the front yard.

But the sky continued to darken. Then the wind picked up. The neighbor's tree, on my right, nearly bent over, and suddenly the table umbrella, behind me, started to rise and float away. It took a moment for that to register, that my 9-foot umbrella was actually floating up and away from the table stand, before I grabbed it and proceeded to wrestle it to the ground, trying to fold it in as I brought it down, looking for my little toto-ish dog running around (hopefully not floating away!) so as not to bury him under it.

Yeah, that's what I did. I wrestled a 9-foot umbrella in the wind. Where's the video camera when you need one?

I paused and looked at the clouds. They fascinate me, how beautiful and mysterious, floating and swirling in the sky. One in particular, off to the east, intrigued me for a moment. Long and sinewy, stretching out of the sky, swirling and coming toward me and OHSHITGETINTHEHOUSE!!!

For some people, it takes a flash of lightning, a sudden downpour, or even the emergency siren to get them to stop appreciating the beauty of a coming storm and take shelter. A funnel cloud works for me.

Almost as soon as I got in the house and ran to a front window where I could see from a sheltered distance, the cloud was being swallowed up into the sky. Gone. As fast as it came, it went. No harm done.

(photo by Brandy Carrelli, http://compassionatefamily.weebly.com/ )

Whoa! Just almost got run down by a runaway hornline! Well that's what they look like when they're headed right for you.

Anyway,  just sitting here on the curb inhaling the aromas of  snack time. Parked here in the street, both sides, leaving room only for pedestrians and golf carts, members of various corps all hanging out, greeting each other, and enjoying fourth meal. Pretty soon we'll pack up and head for DeKalb, where we'll meet up with many of the same corps  tomorrow night.

And do it again. Same show, different city, practice, practice, practice until it's better than perfect.

And tomorrow, after a good night's sleep in my bus seat, I will carve out time to take in a uniform, maybe sew on some patches for a jacket,. And maybe there will be yet another unusual project to do. Because there's nothing like rushing to finish a bunch of pleather sandbags, beacuse it's windy and we need to stabilize our props.

The adventure continues

We've spent two days in one place, enjoying the hospitality, hot showers and reliable internet connections at UCM. Showtime will be late this evening, and then on to our next destination even later. I better learn to sleep on the bus  tonight, because tomorrow is laundry day. And yes, that is as much fun as it sounds.

We finally had a full day of sewing, only most of our intended refits didn't show up for their fittings last night. Oh yes, another incidence of drum corps time: fittings can and often do take place well after midnight. But somehow I still managed to get up at my normal hour and be ready to work by 7 am. So we had plenty of time to get everyone ready for tonight's show.

Tour, day one

File this under living a little: I am writing this on a bus, traveling from Metamora, IL to Warrenville, MO, in the middle of the night. Ok, so it's not exactly midnight yet, but this is definitely late for me. This is what we call "drum corps time". Sleep when you can, on the bus if possible, as a convoy of buses and trucks transports the entire production toward their next city, which is often in the middle of nowhere.

There are 155 (give or take) kids in the corps, plus an ever-increasing staff of instructors and volunteers. Just pulling into a rest area for a bathroom break is going to be a major production. So far this has been the easy part. Sometime tomorrow we will arrive at our next housing site, unload our stuff and wander inside to find a space to make a bed and catch some more sleep, if possible. Then we get up and get to work.

(Yaaawwn) It's been the first of many long days ahead. Time for bed, or some facsimile thereof.

Is this thing still on?

This is a test ...of new technology. Can I survive thesummer without my laptop? Can a Tablet replace my 'puter? I can't even see what I'm writing, so editing may be non-existent.

I'm going on a new adventure this summer, and I'd like to share it here. Internet access will be splotchy, but that's how I've been living the last several months anyway.

It's not perfect but I think this'll work.

Lies

I know, it's election season in full swing. Things are only going to get worse, and may not get any better once it's all over. That's the price we pay for our democracy.

You probably know what I'm talking about. The story about the Obama administration suing in court to deny military voting rights, when what they're actually doing is defending everyone's voting rights. All while Republicans are drafting voter suppression laws all across the country. Rather un-patriotic of them, if you ask me.

All the claims that Obama lies, and Romney lies, they just even themselves out, right? Except who gets fact-checked? And then who believes the facts, once checked? And once a lie gets started, there's no stopping it. Because people just blindly pass it on, full of outrage without even pausing to question the ludicrousness.

Except I don't. And when I KNOW it's a lie, I find the truth to back me up before I speak up. But I will speak up. I cannot allow my intelligent friends to look bad by passing on the lies "they" want you to believe. (according to FB, an awful lot of you are in that category, but never fear, I still love you all!)

You're being played, people.

Doesn't that make you mad?

Brain melt

A girl's gotta know her limitations. Mine is 105.

Don't get me wrong, I am NOT complaining about the heat. I actually LIKE it. I go outside just to sit in it and wrap myself in its warmth. Easy to say when the power is on, and the central air is working just fine, so no one in the family is the least bit uncomfortable. Ok, so the upstairs gets a little warm for sleeping, but not too warm. There's always the living room sofa for anyone who can't take it upstairs. Because downstairs it is actually chilly. Sweatshirt chilly.

So I like the heat. And a little walk isn't going to hurt anybody, right?

So I did The Shopping today. The Big Shopping of the week, that I hate to do because even though I spend all week on my lists and coupons, I always forget half of what we need. And I hate to drive around to a bunch of stores, so I shop at the supermarket next door to Target. That about covers everything. Except today I needed a printer cartridge from Office Max ... all the way down the opposite end.

The temperature on my thermometer, located on my shady front porch, read 105 as I headed out the door.

Of course I walked. Past Target, which blasted me with cool air from their automatic doors, thanks much. Past TJ Maxx, which also shot me a quick blast, where I paused for just a second before resisting the urge to go inside, and then on past some financial investment firm which did NOT offer a complimentary blast of cool air. Stingy SOB. Famous Footwear was no better, and even longer. By now I was practically hugging the wall to stay in the 12 inches of shade alongside the building. The sun was gunning for me, and the breeze was neither cool nor refreshing. Think 105 degrees of hot air blowing at your face.

Still I walked on, past Party City and PetCo (where the pets go), until finally I reached my destination. Office Max greeted me with refreshing cool air and I automatically headed for the printer cartridges, where I always start my shopping. I use a lot of printer cartridges. Of course I know where they are.

I stopped in front of the HP display and stared at the masses of printer cartridges, and my mind went blank. Whatever information I had about what cartridge I needed to buy had melted away, probably back at Party City but we'll never know. I looked around hoping the familiar packages would spark a memory, but I came up blank. I had no idea what kind of printer I had or what color I needed. Or even if I needed one or two colors. Nothing.

I left empty-handed.

I returned to Target and Dominicks to finish the shopping, following my lists, unloading my coupons and regaining my confidence. It was just a momentary lapse, I was fine, I could handle this heat. As I entered Dominicks, a dripping employee cheerfully announced that the heat index in the parking lot was actually 120, as she pushed in a line of freshly baked shopping carts. Good to know.

I returned home, had the boys unload the loot while I confronted the printer that refused to print, pen and paper in hand. I'm no good without a list, even for a simple printer cartridge. And here is where I noticed something very important: I do not now, nor have I ever (in nearly 20 years of printer ownership) owned an HP printer.

I am a Writer

Day 1 of Becoming a Great Writer Series ... to declare to all the world that I am indeed a writer.

It says it right up there in the title of my blog: Writes for Chocolate. Well, I guess I could be more specific, I write for money, too. And hugs. But money is good.

And I currently have no other occupation that pays in money. Homeschooling Mom, well that is full-time for the next several years still to come. But there's room for Writer. More room every day, in fact.

So here I am, world. A Writer. A published writer, with a bunch of UFO's (unfinished objects), also known as WIP's (works in progress), in various stages of completion. And still scribbling away. The weirdo at the baseball game with a notebook always open, pen in hand. Yeah, even in church, when I go. And even on days when I actually write nothing down, just let it bounce around in my head. Still writing.

And teaching the next generation to write. Just write. Whether they choose to become writers is up to them.

Boys at Work

Best Mothers Day gift ever ... manual labor.

Under normal circumstances, I do all the gardening chores around here.When it comes to digging holes, I shoulder that burden alone. Until now, that is. Now the boys have not only proven they are big and strong enough to take over the heaviest work, but that they will do it without complaint. At least for now.

So I finally got my blueberry bushes. Six of them! All in a nice little line, sort of.

Yes, they are small, but in a couple years we will be overflowing with blueberries!

Is it spring yet?

February 1st, 2012, and there it is: the first sign of Spring. Don't tell me that it's too early! All predictions of a rough winter have gone out the window. It's been in the 50's for the last few days, and everything is soggy and muddy and looking like late March around here. Niiiiiice.

Of course, the groundhog will make it official tomorrow, but I'm betting on an early spring this year. Or, more like, the shortest winter ever. I can live with that.

Just another day of chaos

Sometimes, it all just sneaks up on me. How quickly things can snowball completely out of control. A tiny little dot can morph into a raging staph infection, complete with doctors poking needles into my baby's head and nasty stinkin medicine (I still can't get the smell out of the bathroom!), and then all of a sudden, a couple weeks have passed and ...

Today, all is well. All is quiet, relatively speaking.

... and that was a couple days ago. Yep, interruptions are my life. Chaos reigns. And as long as I'm allowed to come up for air before completely drowning, then it's all good.

So January is over. I did not post every day. Probably never will. All crises of the moment have been averted, or otherwise put into a holding pattern. That works for now.

Onward ... spring is just around the corner, right?

Addicted to ... healthy living?

I've heard of people being addicted to exercise. I usually picture marathoners, long-distance runners that just can't get their day started without a morning run. Or maybe they can't get to sleep at night without sweating off the stress of the day. Never thought that would be me.

I eased off my workout schedule, bit by bit. I certainly didn't go cold turkey, and I can't go back to it just like that, either. I kept thinking, if I just took a day off here and there, everything would be fine. The pain would ease just enough for me to try again. Should've known, when I couldn't actually put myself on the sidelines until all was completely well. No, I had to pretty much lose all use of my arm before I gave up completely and sought medical advice.

Turns out, that old rotator cuff strain that never completely healed ... got worse. Pretty much as bad as it gets without actually needing surgery. Thank God for small miracles.

At first I was in too much pain to even think about any kind of a work out. But I still kept walking. Every day the weather cooperated, I kept on walking. Three to four miles. Sometimes twice a day. Even when it hurt. But that's not addicted, no, not at all. And the days when the winds were too strong, the freezing rain just too much to be outside and still pretend to be sane, I paced the house. And watched my yoga dvd's. And got crankier and crankier by the day.

So when the physical therapist gave me exercises to do at home, you can bet I did them. Twice a day. And celebrated every milestone (Look! I can turn on the faucet!) And went back to doing things as normally as possible. And then it snowed.

That's my job, the shoveling. Except in cases of huge blizzard, I pretty much handle it on my own, at the break of dawn, peacefully shoveling my own little driveway all by myself. We've been blessed by unseasonably warm weather during my recuperation, and I am so thankful for that. But then it snowed. And I had to delegate. But could I help just a little? Should I? (no) I could use the baby shovel? (No) Maybe just to show the boys how it's done? (NO!) But I don't want them out in the street with school buses racing by! Maybe just a little ... shouldn't have done that.

Back to my exercises. Back to being patient (not!). Back to watching yoga, maybe trying out a little Hip Hop Abs (I have to MODIFY Hip Hop Abs!). Back to being cranky, until I can work out again.

Because I am addicted to exercise.

Winter ... better late than never (um, maybe not)

Yup, that's real snow out there. Had to make the minions shovel it so they would believe me. Real snow. Real winter.

And yes, that is real homemadefromscratch soup on the stove. And real homemade brownies. And bunches of other homemade items to warm the tummy after working and/or playing out in the real, cold winter.

I may be out of practice, but I can still do the whole keep-a-cozy-home-for-the-winter thing. So you can all head for Florida now, I've got this covered. We'll be sure and save some winter for ya!

Anybody else sick of election news already? It's January, and with a Republican debate every couple days now, I am officially done with this shit. That's all it has become, a pile of dinosaur shit. Interesting only to paleontologists, wouldn't even make a decent museum exhibit.

I've already made up my mind. I will settle for the least repulsive option. And I will cast my ballot. But I will not participate any further, other than rolling my eyes and trying not to vomit, should the subject ever come up in conversation. Even the jokes are stale already, and we've got 10 months to go!

I miss Michelle Bachman already. :P

This is a test ...

This is just a test. Another test, to see what I can and cannot do with all the distractions surrounding me. As in surround sound. Rock Band is truly a test of my abilities.

Don't get me wrong, I like Rock Band. I like anything that gets the boys out of the xbox cave of solitude and conversing and cooperating and otherwise enjoying other people's company (other people include me, their mother, which is such a trial for them). And right here, in my "office" smack in the middle of the living room/dining area right off the kitchen. Can't get much more distracted.

And since I seem to be spending more time correcting spelling and typos than actually putting words to paper, we'll call this a win. And quit while I'm ahead.

Who are the Green Ones?

Chicken Medicine
Disco Pirates
Wave to the Hammers
Team Elephants
Plastic Mountain
Dinosaur Trolls
The Tasty Goat
Exploding Bugs
The Amazing Cheese
Delicious Princess
Introducing the Window Frame
Children of the Green Ones (who are the Green Ones?)
Dreaming About Dudes
Let's Play Clean-Up
Chicken Fish
Hey It's the Caterpillar
Over To You Honey
Sunshine Broomsticks

OK, you get it. The boys are trying to name their band in their new Rock Band game. Any favorites? I still want to know who are the Green Ones?

Saturdays are for ...

Cooking. I got the whole day to cook a whole bunch of food that will last the brood till about ... oh, I don't know, Tuesday? That's been my routine lately (with summers off for good behavior, and swimming). Did the shopping yesterday. Got the whole pile of wholesome food all put away nicely in the fridge, awaiting Cooking Day.

Got tired just thinking about it. So it was a nice afternoon for a nap.

Baseball? Already?

January is full-on basketball season around here, as in Bulls Basketball. And the beginning of baseball.

What? Baseball in January? Yes, and in February? Yes, yes. It's called Winter Training Camp. And the season starts in March, so after a Christmas Break filled with XBOX, well ... winter training camp is sounding like a good idea. Wish they had it when I was a kid.

Of course, I was busy with actual winter sports during the winter months. Like figure skating ... come to think of it, that actually stretched out to include almost an entire school year. But NEVER as long as Hockey Season, which I believe now covers 11 months of the year (I think they get July off, but don't quote me on it. I will never be a Hockey Mom).

Let's Play Ball!

This might be some sort of record for me ...

but it's not pretty. Nothing profound today.

Maybe a couple weeks in, after much practice, I'll finally get the hang of it. Maybe there will be something to read. Or maybe not.

Just not today.