Do You Realize?

Photo Hunt Saturday--Bright

Another week has passed, and I've finally realized what my problem is. Full-time, 24/7 care and supervision of a 13-year-old bipolar, attention-deficit, hyperactive, oppositional defiant, anxiety-riddled boy is truly exhausting. I feel sucked dry of all wit, happiness, empathy and creativity. This is a dangerous thing, I realize, since those are all of my best characteristics. When I get some wit and/or energy back, you can be certain I'll be writing again. I'll post photography to fill in the blank words.

While searching for photos for this week's Photo Hunt theme (Bright), I couldn't decide whether to post a photo of Eldest, who was bright enough to graduate and be accepted to UT Austin a year early,

or a photo of the bright night lights of Austin, Texas,

or a photo of our toothbrushes, made of recycled yogurt cups, which I think is quite a bright idea,

or a photo of a bright morning sun as it first engulfs the branches of a tree,

or a photo of the same bright sun, sinking slowly into the horizon.

Since I couldn't decide, I used 'em all! Which one is your favorite?

Photo Hunt Saturday--Water

Yeah, I've been gone. I'll be back. Soon, I hope. In the meantime, here's my Photo Hunt entry for this week, since I missed last week. This week's theme is: Water. One of my favorite things about going to the Smoky Mountains is the water. Creeks, waterfalls, the Ripley's Aquarium in Gatlinburg. All kinds of water to love in Tennessee. Both of these photos were taken on the same hike, to Abram's Falls, in July 2008.

 

Crap

I had a post almost ready to go, and lost it all when I had to restart Firefox. My words of wisdom and pithy advice will just have to wait. I'll be back to post later. I know. You're on the edge of your seat, as well you should be.

Tripawed Tuesday

As you may recall, Poogan was officially tripawed on Monday of last week, because of a soft tissue sarcoma. I am officially in awe of this dog's (and every animal's really, as they are so much tougher than we humans) resiliency. Day One post-returning-home saw her able to go upstairs on her own; by Day Three she could also go downstairs, a much tougher task when the paw missing is a front paw. By Day Five, she could jump up onto and down from the sofa and eat from her bowl in the floor (another tricky one, requiring more balance than one would imagine). On Day Six, two days ago, I can officially say she made my heart swell with joy and pride.

Every evening, around 7 or 8 o'clock, we walk the dogs. They all seem to know what time it is, and the indoor dogs all get excited when they see us head for the back door to gather the leashes. Lorcan starts sneezing uncontrollably, Nibbles starts tap-dancing in circles, and Poogan winds up her Jack-Nicholson-in-The-Shining-smile (you know, when you can see her last molars and her eyes take on a slight smidge of madness).

Every day up until Sunday, Poogan didn't show much interest at walk time, but Sunday, she lined up with everyone else, channeling Jack in full force. She's still not wearing a collar, so I couldn't leash her up, but I figured, "Hey, she's missing a leg. We can catch her if she decides to run off." We also fully expected to carry her most of the way. Not a chance. She was very good to stay with the pack, but when her feet hit grass she was bounding like a puppy. She made it almost all the way around the block before I made hubby pick her up & carry her; she likely would have kept going but she was panting pretty hard, and I didn't want to risk her overdoing it.

Watching her return to her former self and abilities has been an inspiring lesson in sticktoitiveness. It's amazing to see her nonchalant response to a slip of the paw and resulting face-plant. A human's reaction would include self-consciousness and embarrassment, but all she thinks about is trying again to get it right. We all could learn something from our courageous canine counterparts. Here's to you, Poogan!

(This photo was taken on Sunday morning, when Poogan decided we should just lie in the driveway for fifteen minutes or so and enjoy the breeze and the quiet at 7:00 a.m. She's so wise; it was lovely.)

P.S. On a totally unrelated note, Middle, his girlfriend, and I rented Cloverfield last night. While I liked the movie, it was no better for sensitive stomachs on a television than the big screen. I missed a half hour or so while I regurgitated my dinner, my lunch, and my breakfast, and possibly even dinner from the night before. Dramamine, people, Dramamine. They weren't lying.

Green Thumb Sunday

The "famn damily" (Eldest's term) is leaving today; their visit was cut short by a death in our family. I was going to go back to Georgia with them for the funeral, but we all decided I shouldn't, since we all know how I feel about funerals. I've been extraordinarily busy playing hostess for three-and-a-half days. It will take me at least that long to recover and to wash all the dishes and towels that are now stacked, piled, and pitched all over every available surface.

So, today's Green Thumb Sunday photo is one I took for last week, but never got to post. It is of my gorgeous Kingswood Torch coleus. They're showing off, full of stalks of tiny purple flowers, and growing to enormous sizes. I love the contrast they provide to the hostas.

Photo Hunt Saturday--Bad Hair

This week's theme is: Bad Hair. I took this photo on my road trip from Oregon to Texas last summer. There are many things I love about having short hair, but the one thing I absolutely despise is that one can never wake up with cute, sexy, softly tousled hair when it is short. Instead, one can only achieve this first thing in the morning:

Nana

My great-grandparents were sweet, wonderful, generous people. And they each brought something different to their marriage; they were very different people in many ways, but love filled in the rest. Nana, who was named Daisy, had an uncanny knack for making sure that people paid attention to her; Papa (Robert) had a talent for calling her out about it. One of my favorite stories about the two of them goes something like this:

One day Papa was engaged in something that Nana was displeased about. It doesn't matter what the activity was now; all that is important to keep in mind is that it did not revolve around Daisy, and that was surely unacceptable.

"Oh, Robert," she said, in her most dramatic voice, I'm sure. "I just feel terrible. I feel like I'm at death's door."

Papa, more beleaguered than beguiled by this, replied matter-of-factly, "I know, honey. But, don't worry. I know you'll be feeling better in a couple of hours."

"What do you mean?" Nana sniffed.

"It's bowling night, Daisy, and we both know you won't be sick when it's time to leave."

Nana was properly indignant, not because he had insulted her, but because she knew he was spot-on in his assessment.

Several years, even one very recently (possibly before last year's trip to the Smokies), Nana would contract a mysterious and devastating illness just before we were scheduled to leave for vacation. She would always insist we go, though. "Don't worry on account of me," she would moan. It was a tactic to which we've grown accustomed, equal parts charming and maddening.

Having never lost her prescient talent for detecting a family outing, Nana took a downward turn in health just before the Georgia family left to drive out here. They visited her in the nursing home, where she has been for a couple of years. She was groggy and minimally responsive from pain medications, which has been typical for several months now, but she seemed on par, healthwise, with recent visits. My mother and sister decided to make the trip out here for Eldest's graduation.

Nana passed away early this morning. She was ninety-six. She had given up months ago, ready to go "be with Robert again," and she was resentful that her body would not cooperate with her will, but both were very strong (she had a basketball-sized ovarian cyst removed surgically at ninety-two, handling the recovery like a trooper). As I am with most deaths, I view hers not as a sad thing, but as a fulfillment of what she wanted. And Nana almost always got what she wanted. And how fitting that she would pass after the family decided to take a trip out here. (W. Somerset Maugham's Louise had nothing on Nana.) Even in death, she's up to her same shenanigans; I'm sure it's not a coincidence, but fate.

I love you, Nana. I hope you're with Papa somewhere, just like you wanted.

Me, Me, Me, Meme

I was tagged for this meme by Byrning Bunny, one of my favorite bloggers. She has a blog where she participates in many memes, from Green Thumb Sunday to Unconscious Mutterings. She is intelligent, an animal-lover and gardenre like me, and she has the cutest little boy ever. Go see for yourself. Anyway, here are the rules:

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning of the post.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves in their post.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

The Questions:

1. What was I doing ten years ago?
   I was filling in for Youngest's Pre-K teacher, who was on maternity leave.
2. What are five things on my to do list for today?
   Just five? Grocery shopping, mopping, mowing the lawn, planning a menu for fifteen for the next almost-a-week, picking Poogan up from the veterinary hospital.
3. Snacks I enjoy?
   Devil's food cupcakes with Duncan Hines fluffy white frosting.... mmmm.... Lucky Layla drinkable yogurts (especially pina colada, with its chunks of coconut and pineapple), peanut butter and apples.
   
4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire?
   Oh, geez. Let's see. First, we would pay off our debts and the debts of our parents and siblings. We would set aside enough money for all the kids' college educations.  I would go back to college myself. We would finish the repairs on our house, sell it, and move to a little plot of land large enough for my animals to run around on, preferably in Vermont. I would open at least one non-profit, no-kill animal shelter. I would travel to New Guinea to study their indigenous birds. I would go back to Italy. I would travel around the world volunteering and photographing natural disasters to raise awareness and support for relief. It's too early to really think about this one yet. Show me the money first, bitches!
5. Three of my bad habits?
   Are you kidding? I don't have any bad habits! LOL! Okay, maybe a couple... Let's see... I can be an incredible pig; my husband hates to ride in my car. I curse like a sailor. I sometimes hold grudges.
6. Five places I have lived?
   I'm quite boring. I've only lived in two cities my entire life. How about houses? The houses in which I've lived were never boring. They all have stories.
   
   1. I've lived in the place where I grew up, Booger Hollow, on 200+ acres of beautiful forested land in the middle of nowhere.
   2. The first house where hubby, the kids & I lived was a little gingerbread house on a corner of a neighborhood called Saddle Mountain. We loved that house, but we never took the option to buy it, mainly because of needed updating and plans to widen the highway in front of it. Eight years later, that highway is exactly the same as it was when we lived there. Damn.
   3. The first house we owned had some great features, like floor-to-12-foot-ceiling windows, which I adored. The walls of the living room were buttery yellow, which is my favorite color. But it took us over a year to sell it because it was synthetic stucco, and people had heard horror stories of real stucco houses in the south rotting from the inside when termites got behind it. That house, by the way, is still standing; no termites have eaten it to the foundation.
   4. When we moved out to Texas, we moved into a house we'd never seen before. The weekend hubby & I were supposed to have found a house, he had a terrible car accident on his way to work the day before leaving.
   5. This is our third house in eight years. We hate it. More specifically, we hate the people from whom we bought it. I guess the guy was a friend of an inspector, because we've since found so many fucking problems an inspector should have found. We currently only use one shower, as water drips liberally through to the downstairs when we use it. I just took down some of our plantation shutters only to discover that the door had once had double-paned glass, one of which had been broken out, with shards left around the edges. To make matters worse, they had painted the trim since breaking the glass and just left the glass shards there, painting over them. Un-freaking-believable.
7. Five jobs I have had?
   My first job was opening a Dress Barn; I worked as a cashier at Kroger; I worked as an assistant to the marketing director of our mall; I worked as a server in many restaurants; and as a dining room manager in two of them; and I managed and taught classes at a scrapbook supply store.
8. How did you name your blog? I adore the premise of this Flaming Lips song about life and death and the impermanence of it all, and that's where I got it. If you haven't heard it, I'd highly suggest listening to it.

Okay. Tagging. Does it say how many we have to tag? Here goes: Blue Like the Sky, RedMolly, Tenuous at Best, and while I totally don't expect anything to come of it, I'd love to see Crystal's answers, over at Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper. I occasionally stalk her blog for hours at a time. She makes me laugh. A lot. I'll go tell them I tagged them when I get back from my 100-mile-round-trip to Youngest's school & Whole Foods. Or, if you make it here before then, don't make me do all the work... get posting! Heh.

A Tuesday Ten--Family Stampede Edition

I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but my family is coming out to Texas. Remember them? They will all be here, PLUS my aunt (Hey, Mimi! ) and my two rambunctious cousins, along with my dad's mother. Nine people. For almost a week. They'll be here tomorrow in time for dinner, I'm hoping. There's still a lot to do to get ready for them, especially my mom, who has special needs post-transplant. So today, to help me clarify things for myself, here are ten things I still need to do to prepare for my family's arrival:

1. Go to Whole Foods. Lots of fruit is on the agenda. And a water filter; there will be no bottled water, except Sigg bottles of our water.

2. Take the cockatiel to the vet's office and move the finch to our upstairs bathroom. My mom can't be around birds post-transplant. They stir up dust and potentially carry parasites that my mom doesn't need to be exposed to. I think my kids do, too; I wonder if the vet will take them, too?

3. Change the air filters on the air conditioners & vacuum. Sneeze less.

4. Visit Poogan in the hospital today. She will probably come home tomorrow, looking so fantastically like a Frankendoggie. I'm telling my little cousins and niece that she was being too loud and running around too much, so we cut off her leg; now sit down and SHHHHHHHH!

5. Finish shoving shit in the coat closet cleaning the downstairs. Clean the downstairs bathroom.

6. Mop floors. Obsess over a more efficient way to clean floors. If you're sticking the mop back into the dirty mop water, aren't you just swirling the dirt around on the floors?

7. Mow the lawn. Get some Agent Orange and kill this fucking nutsedge that's attacking my yard & gardens.

8. Move a different television set out to the outdoor bar. We're spending a lot of time out back, especially now that it's pretty. The other one isn't digital & we haven't cleaned behind it since we've lived here, and so to kill two birds with one stone, we took it out; I cleaned behind it, and we're replacing it with one of the kids' digital ones.

9. Plan the party we're having with our friends and family this weekend. Take a Xanax while thinking about almost twenty extra people in my house, smelling the ferrets (Oh! Clean the ferret cage is on the list, too!), inspecting my never-too-perfectly-mopped floors, noticing the dust I missed... yeah, okay, I know, they aren't really actually furrealz doing all that shit, but they are doing it in my freaking head, okay?!?!?

10. Did I mention take a Xanax?