Saturday, May 30, 2009
Definitely a Family
I’m trying to get a little perspective on Doug and Frank (and Ballou) coming home today and it being okay when they come in the house and make a huge gigantic dirty mess. I mean really, would I rather have a clean house or a family?
Friday, May 29, 2009
One More Day
Doug and Frank will be home tomorrow. They are in Bailey tonight and will take their time getting home. Frank said this afternoon, “Um Mom, why can’t we come home?” I told him they COULD come home but that Beckett was still very sick and I was hoping that he and Daddy wouldn’t get it too. That satisfied him.
Interestingly, Doug didn’t say a whole lot when I was actually talking to him, but once Frank got on the phone, Doug kept telling him things to tell me. One was that Frank caught a BIG fish today, over a foot long. And then I heard Doug say something, and Frank said, “Dad says he was skunked and I won, whatever that means.” Too funny.
Frank also said the place they were staying tonight was “really weird.” I told him one of the best parts of life as far as I was concerned was remembering those “really weird” places we’ve stayed and remembering to always laugh about how funny it was. I told him to write down everything he saw and thought and we’d write a wild story about it together when he gets home. He thought that was a great idea and immediately wanted to get off the phone to go find all the weirdness he could. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Frank became a writer? Or loved it as much as I do?
Interestingly, Doug didn’t say a whole lot when I was actually talking to him, but once Frank got on the phone, Doug kept telling him things to tell me. One was that Frank caught a BIG fish today, over a foot long. And then I heard Doug say something, and Frank said, “Dad says he was skunked and I won, whatever that means.” Too funny.
Frank also said the place they were staying tonight was “really weird.” I told him one of the best parts of life as far as I was concerned was remembering those “really weird” places we’ve stayed and remembering to always laugh about how funny it was. I told him to write down everything he saw and thought and we’d write a wild story about it together when he gets home. He thought that was a great idea and immediately wanted to get off the phone to go find all the weirdness he could. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Frank became a writer? Or loved it as much as I do?
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Beckett is Still Sick
Beckett is still unable to keep any food down and in the last couple of hours, isn’t able to keep liquids down either. He doesn’t have much of a fever, 99.6 at last reading. If he isn’t significantly better by tomorrow morning, we will visit the doctor again. Probably foolishly, he and I took a bath a little earlier. I just felt the need to take care of my little boy who looks skinnier and skinnier by the minute. I’m doing my best to get pedialyte in him, but he is so stubborn and insists he doesn’t like it.
I’ve gotten him to suck on a popsicle, which was met with a resounding, “YES,” as if I had just given him such fantastic gift. I’m hoping that works and he at least is able to keep down what fluids that provides.
I feel powerless and am stricken by an inability to get anything else done. Laundry has sat in the washer and dryer all day and it occurs to me every couple of hours that I should go and do something about it; but I am unable to motivate myself to do anything other than sit with Beck.
I’ve gotten him to suck on a popsicle, which was met with a resounding, “YES,” as if I had just given him such fantastic gift. I’m hoping that works and he at least is able to keep down what fluids that provides.
I feel powerless and am stricken by an inability to get anything else done. Laundry has sat in the washer and dryer all day and it occurs to me every couple of hours that I should go and do something about it; but I am unable to motivate myself to do anything other than sit with Beck.
Thursday, Day Whatever
Since I don’t know when Doug and Frank are coming home, I don’t know what day this is in my countdown, or whatever. Beckett is doing a little better; not keeping too much food down, but seems to be holding his liquids okay. His energy level is very low, but at least we ruled out appendicitis.
Morgan watched him this morning so I could go to the doctor. Had a couple back-to-back meetings at the store. Now home for the rest of the day, must be some kind of record for a Thursday.
Today was a very, very good day for meetings, stuff that has been on the back burner moved to the front and is now actually almost finished. Jenn is the greatest employee someone could ever ask for, I’m thankful for her every single day. The Summer Soul-stice event is moving along nicely and it looks like Bristol will actually DONATE the beer so this event could become our (almost) first-ever fundraiser. Wouldn’t that be something, raising money instead of always spending it?
Was at the wine bar last night, had a couple of meetings so Morgan was here in the evening with Beck. It was productive and worthwhile, although now I’m feeling the pain of simply running around way too much yesterday.
Had quite a lot of “friends of the wine bar” in last night, a couple of BIG groups, and every table was full. I LOVE being at the wine bar when it’s like that (well, I guess that is fairly obvious isn’t it? What owner wouldn’t love being at their place when it’s full? Duh).
Morgan watched him this morning so I could go to the doctor. Had a couple back-to-back meetings at the store. Now home for the rest of the day, must be some kind of record for a Thursday.
Today was a very, very good day for meetings, stuff that has been on the back burner moved to the front and is now actually almost finished. Jenn is the greatest employee someone could ever ask for, I’m thankful for her every single day. The Summer Soul-stice event is moving along nicely and it looks like Bristol will actually DONATE the beer so this event could become our (almost) first-ever fundraiser. Wouldn’t that be something, raising money instead of always spending it?
Was at the wine bar last night, had a couple of meetings so Morgan was here in the evening with Beck. It was productive and worthwhile, although now I’m feeling the pain of simply running around way too much yesterday.
Had quite a lot of “friends of the wine bar” in last night, a couple of BIG groups, and every table was full. I LOVE being at the wine bar when it’s like that (well, I guess that is fairly obvious isn’t it? What owner wouldn’t love being at their place when it’s full? Duh).
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Ballou is Perry the Platypus
Today while I sat in the waiting room waiting for Beckett to go in for x-rays, I said to him, “I’m Perry the Platypus,” he answered, “No Mom, Ballou is Perry the Platypus.” I said, “Why aren’t you and why aren’t I?” And he said, “Because I’m sick mom and so are you, so we can’t be Perry the Platypus, because he’s not sick, so Ballou has to be because he’s not sick.” It made me cry. Beckett is feeling better, sound asleep and I will soon crawl in beside him and go to sleep myself.
Doug and Frank (and Ballou) are camping again, and Beck and I will stay here, cuddle and get better.
Doug and Frank (and Ballou) are camping again, and Beck and I will stay here, cuddle and get better.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Curse You Perry the Platypus
Beckett and I play this game, “I’m Perry the platypus,” “No, I’M Perry the platypus,” this can go on for hours and hours. Beckett will giggle and laugh so hard, that I cannot help myself from laughing just as hard as he does. So a few minutes ago I felt his forehead, cooler than it had been, his fever is going away. I said, “I’m Perry the platypus,” and he, very sleepily, answered, “No . . . I’m . . . Perry . . . the . . . platypus.” Then I said, “Curses Perry the platypus,” and he answered, “No mom, it’s curse YOU Perry the platypus.” He’s getting better.
Poor Little Beckett
Beckett has a fever and his tummy is still upset, although I did get some fluids in him and a little tylenol, so his fever is going down. Doug completely emptied the truck, and then repacked it again, after I did three loads of laundry and put away half of the food. He, Frank and Ballou are going to leave tomorrow morning and try to salvage what they can of their camping trip. Beckett will stay here with me, which is for the best for everyone.
Day Two - They're Home
Beckett got sick last night, threw up everywhere on everything and he's got a fever. They're home and really grouchy. Beck is asleep, Frank is watching television and Doug is trying to take a nap. Days of packing and planning and now they weren't even gone 36 hours.
Day Two (Morning)
I woke up this morning without a purpose. Without the boys to get moving and out the door, I don’t have an agenda and can’t figure out how to get started. Yesterday I was driven by the list of things I wanted to get done, this morning, I’m not interested . . . yet. I suppose I have to give myself a chance to wake up before I figure out my day. It is one of those days where I know I have a million things to do, and don’t feel like doing a single one of them. More caffeine injections and perhaps my body and mind will start moving on their own.
It’s the kind of day I would call my mom and end up talking for an hour to put off doing anything else. Once the conversation was finished, I would be motivated to get going. Or she’d be here, which would really get me motivated to do something because I could never sit still when she was here, the truth is, she drove me crazy.
Yesterday I thought a lot about why I haven’t done things like the mending before, why I kept putting it off and letting it sit. What is the difference whether the boys are here or not? I suppose when they are here, I’m talking to them, doing something for them (like making lunches or dinner), scolding them (which seems never ending), checking to see what they’re up to, checking to see what Doug is doing, looking for something Doug can’t find or Frank can’t find.
One thing I’ve realized, although it doesn’t help one BIT with procrastination, is that I often worry and agonize over something I need to do and put sooooo much more energy into the worry of it, or figuring out how to “do it right,” than it would take to simply DO it. I know this, this isn’t news to me. One of the most important things I learned in college was to simply DO and FIX, DO and FIX, DO and FIX . . . as opposed to planning, planning, planning and then doing.
I need to jump in with both feet and get some of the projects done I have been putting off. Which one to start with and how not to get distracted by other “little” stuff all day long is throwing me into analysis-paralysis. Something I know better than to get mired down in.
Doctor appointment later today, which will throw a wrench into whatever I’ve decided to do.
I’m trying to motivate myself, can you tell? Can you also tell it isn’t working?
Yesterday afternoon I got a collect call from Doug from the campground. They’re at the great sand dunes, which is probably a proper noun, although I have to admit I didn’t pay all that much attention to where they were going before they left. Doug is great about keeping me informed of what he’s doing, I even know their campsite number. Not that I would know what to do with that information if I needed it, but at least it is tucked away somewhere in the back of my brain.
Doug said they got a campsite near the creek and were settled in and also told me they decided to stay there two nights rather than head to Crestone today. I asked him how they were all doing, and he let me talk to the boys to find out for myself. Beckett was SO excited, he told me about the snacks they bought on the way, that their tent was near a creek and that Ballou liked laying in the tent. He also said, “Mom, you've GOT to see this,” followed by silence. I think he was trying to figure out how to show me something and realized that I cannot see through the phone. This is a minor milestone, he has, in the past, walked around with phone “showing” whoever was on the other end everything he was talking about.
Frank told me they stopped at a fort, AND that on their way down there (his words were, “Mom, you’re NEVER going to believe this . . .”), they saw a man sitting in the sun, naked! He was incredulous, and he said that. “Mom, I was incredulous, I mean we drove RIGHT by him and he was naked. It was weird.” He went on to tell me they might end up sleeping in the suburban because there were a lot of “menacing” clouds. He tries so hard to work an expanded vocabulary into his stories. I love that about him.
Yesterday my focus was UPSTAIRS, my domain. It’s almost finished. The rest of this week, I have a list for downstairs, which will be easier to put off. I have a tendency to never leave the store once I’m there . . . something EVERYONE tells me, ALL the time. I dreamed of this store for ten years, why wouldn’t I want to be there? I hope this is a good week, we need it. If the economy doesn’t get better, fast, we’re going to be in trouble and might even have to close. With my lack of keeping myself busy, that is where my mind goes, and then I worry . . . have I mentioned at all that I worry a lot?
It’s the kind of day I would call my mom and end up talking for an hour to put off doing anything else. Once the conversation was finished, I would be motivated to get going. Or she’d be here, which would really get me motivated to do something because I could never sit still when she was here, the truth is, she drove me crazy.
Yesterday I thought a lot about why I haven’t done things like the mending before, why I kept putting it off and letting it sit. What is the difference whether the boys are here or not? I suppose when they are here, I’m talking to them, doing something for them (like making lunches or dinner), scolding them (which seems never ending), checking to see what they’re up to, checking to see what Doug is doing, looking for something Doug can’t find or Frank can’t find.
One thing I’ve realized, although it doesn’t help one BIT with procrastination, is that I often worry and agonize over something I need to do and put sooooo much more energy into the worry of it, or figuring out how to “do it right,” than it would take to simply DO it. I know this, this isn’t news to me. One of the most important things I learned in college was to simply DO and FIX, DO and FIX, DO and FIX . . . as opposed to planning, planning, planning and then doing.
I need to jump in with both feet and get some of the projects done I have been putting off. Which one to start with and how not to get distracted by other “little” stuff all day long is throwing me into analysis-paralysis. Something I know better than to get mired down in.
Doctor appointment later today, which will throw a wrench into whatever I’ve decided to do.
I’m trying to motivate myself, can you tell? Can you also tell it isn’t working?
Yesterday afternoon I got a collect call from Doug from the campground. They’re at the great sand dunes, which is probably a proper noun, although I have to admit I didn’t pay all that much attention to where they were going before they left. Doug is great about keeping me informed of what he’s doing, I even know their campsite number. Not that I would know what to do with that information if I needed it, but at least it is tucked away somewhere in the back of my brain.
Doug said they got a campsite near the creek and were settled in and also told me they decided to stay there two nights rather than head to Crestone today. I asked him how they were all doing, and he let me talk to the boys to find out for myself. Beckett was SO excited, he told me about the snacks they bought on the way, that their tent was near a creek and that Ballou liked laying in the tent. He also said, “Mom, you've GOT to see this,” followed by silence. I think he was trying to figure out how to show me something and realized that I cannot see through the phone. This is a minor milestone, he has, in the past, walked around with phone “showing” whoever was on the other end everything he was talking about.
Frank told me they stopped at a fort, AND that on their way down there (his words were, “Mom, you’re NEVER going to believe this . . .”), they saw a man sitting in the sun, naked! He was incredulous, and he said that. “Mom, I was incredulous, I mean we drove RIGHT by him and he was naked. It was weird.” He went on to tell me they might end up sleeping in the suburban because there were a lot of “menacing” clouds. He tries so hard to work an expanded vocabulary into his stories. I love that about him.
Yesterday my focus was UPSTAIRS, my domain. It’s almost finished. The rest of this week, I have a list for downstairs, which will be easier to put off. I have a tendency to never leave the store once I’m there . . . something EVERYONE tells me, ALL the time. I dreamed of this store for ten years, why wouldn’t I want to be there? I hope this is a good week, we need it. If the economy doesn’t get better, fast, we’re going to be in trouble and might even have to close. With my lack of keeping myself busy, that is where my mind goes, and then I worry . . . have I mentioned at all that I worry a lot?
Monday, May 25, 2009
Woody Woodworth
Yesterday I wrote a little about Woody Woodworth, and today I’ll write a little more.
Woody is one of the best people I know, and probably one of my closest friends. He and Cathy, his wife, are blessed to have found one another, they are, indeed, soulmates.
Woody loves women. Not in a philandering swarmy way, but in the purest way possible. He simply LOVES women. Doesn’t matter the shape, size, political affiliation (well, maybe that), he thinks all women are amazing. When Woody talks to you, he looks you DIRECTLY in the eyes and LISTENS to everything single thing you say. He is completely connected and present in the moment. His mind is never elsewhere, although he has lots of elsewheres for his mind to be.
Woody and I agreed a couple of years ago to serve on the board of the local merchants association. The agreement is I will be vice president if he will be president and vice versa. Either one of us leaves, the other does too. That’s the only way it works. We work well together.
Doug and I get together with Woody and Cathy from time to time, not as often as we’d like. When CJ came to visit, I told them about him and true to form, we all got together for an evening out. Both Woody and Cathy knew how important CJ is to me and made the time to meet and get to know him. I love them for that.
When we go to High Country, Beckett INSISTS on coming inside because he has to talk to Woody about something. Beckett loves Woody and it is because Woody listens to him and treats him like a person, and not everyone treats children like they are people.
Saturday was Cathy's birthday and in the hecticness of the day, I did not call her to wish her a happy one. But I did talk to them at the end of the day when Woody called me to tell me he was bringing firewood up for Doug’s camping trip . . . so thanks to Woody, I got to talk to Cathy on her birthday.
I love living in Monument, and it is because of the people who have entered my life in the three years we’ve been here. There are so many who I feel as though I’ve known all my life. I am truly blessed in that way.
Woody is one of the best people I know, and probably one of my closest friends. He and Cathy, his wife, are blessed to have found one another, they are, indeed, soulmates.
Woody loves women. Not in a philandering swarmy way, but in the purest way possible. He simply LOVES women. Doesn’t matter the shape, size, political affiliation (well, maybe that), he thinks all women are amazing. When Woody talks to you, he looks you DIRECTLY in the eyes and LISTENS to everything single thing you say. He is completely connected and present in the moment. His mind is never elsewhere, although he has lots of elsewheres for his mind to be.
Woody and I agreed a couple of years ago to serve on the board of the local merchants association. The agreement is I will be vice president if he will be president and vice versa. Either one of us leaves, the other does too. That’s the only way it works. We work well together.
Doug and I get together with Woody and Cathy from time to time, not as often as we’d like. When CJ came to visit, I told them about him and true to form, we all got together for an evening out. Both Woody and Cathy knew how important CJ is to me and made the time to meet and get to know him. I love them for that.
When we go to High Country, Beckett INSISTS on coming inside because he has to talk to Woody about something. Beckett loves Woody and it is because Woody listens to him and treats him like a person, and not everyone treats children like they are people.
Saturday was Cathy's birthday and in the hecticness of the day, I did not call her to wish her a happy one. But I did talk to them at the end of the day when Woody called me to tell me he was bringing firewood up for Doug’s camping trip . . . so thanks to Woody, I got to talk to Cathy on her birthday.
I love living in Monument, and it is because of the people who have entered my life in the three years we’ve been here. There are so many who I feel as though I’ve known all my life. I am truly blessed in that way.
Day One (Mid-Day)
Oh the wonders that I have beheld today. It helped that the boys left at 6:00am and got me up at 5:30 so I could say goodbye, one hundred times (believe me, I am NOT complaining). Beds were stripped, laundry done, and clothes put away before 10:00am. The boys will not recognize the house when they enter it.
I sorted through no less than 563 emails. I still have 36 to ANSWER, but the ratio of unreads to need-to-answer has gotten exponentially better.
I actually READ the Christmas (and birthday cards) we (I) received this year and then put them away. It’s only May right? And in honor of May, I picked vase-fulls of lilacs and have them throughout the house. Tomorrow I will pick more and for my office and the store.
At lunchtime I got together with a friend, and now it is only 2:20 so I have beaucoup hours left to work on the list of things to do around here that I never get to do. Have no fear, reading is near the top. Just sitting and reading, for as long as I want—heaven.
I may not work at the store all week and simply stay home and enjoy the peace and solitude.
I’m keeping track of which “day” it is in the timeline of the boys being gone so I can look back and see when it hit me that I was really ready for them to come home. Any bets?
A reference to today’s Art Quote. Was it really Napolean Bonaparte who said, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” really?
I sorted through no less than 563 emails. I still have 36 to ANSWER, but the ratio of unreads to need-to-answer has gotten exponentially better.
I actually READ the Christmas (and birthday cards) we (I) received this year and then put them away. It’s only May right? And in honor of May, I picked vase-fulls of lilacs and have them throughout the house. Tomorrow I will pick more and for my office and the store.
At lunchtime I got together with a friend, and now it is only 2:20 so I have beaucoup hours left to work on the list of things to do around here that I never get to do. Have no fear, reading is near the top. Just sitting and reading, for as long as I want—heaven.
I may not work at the store all week and simply stay home and enjoy the peace and solitude.
I’m keeping track of which “day” it is in the timeline of the boys being gone so I can look back and see when it hit me that I was really ready for them to come home. Any bets?
A reference to today’s Art Quote. Was it really Napolean Bonaparte who said, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” really?
Storypeople - Abandon Hope
Abandon hope all you who enter here because we've got too much stuff to do to be ready for the future to be sitting around hoping.Perfect for today.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
A Blessing and a Curse
An empty house is both a blessing and a curse. The boys aren't gone yet, they're not leaving until tomorrow morning. However, I am starting to get that feeling of dread whenever they go away. When Doug starts talking about it, I always think I'm fine; I say to myself, wow, this time I'm not going to worry about them. Yeah sure. I wish I was able to selectively turn off the worry button in my brain.
I am doing my absolute best to simply celebrate that for the next week, I don't care what they wear or how many days in a row they wear it. Frank could pick out anything he wanted to take, his rattiest t-shirt, his white basketball shorts that are covered in stains—I don't care! It is so freeing, for both of us. I've had to pack their clothes for them (but not pick them out), make sure they took their toothbrushes and toothpaste, make a few food items they can heat up for dinner, and that is it! Camping is definitely Doug's deal.
The 0lder they get, the less they'll need my help, and then I'll be sad that they are growing up and don't need me anymore. Foreshadowing I can almost promise I won't complain when they come home from college and haven't done any laundry for a whole semester, or want me to cook all their favorite dishes for days on end.
There are days that I am sad we never had a little girl, but then there are plenty of other days that I am simply very happy to be the mother of two boys.
Today we stopped by High Country to pick up the firewood Woody so kindly brought up to his store for Doug to take on the trip. Woody and Cathy both, along with the other Cathy (Green), all commented jokingly about what I would do with myself while the boys were gone. Woody was the first to answer that it is more than likely I will work night and day and get twelve million projects done. He knows me all too well.
What he doesn't know is that this time is also a gift from Doug; time for me to relax, have some alone time, get my head back on straight and gear up for the days ahead. I hope to be purposeful and present and do just that.
I am doing my absolute best to simply celebrate that for the next week, I don't care what they wear or how many days in a row they wear it. Frank could pick out anything he wanted to take, his rattiest t-shirt, his white basketball shorts that are covered in stains—I don't care! It is so freeing, for both of us. I've had to pack their clothes for them (but not pick them out), make sure they took their toothbrushes and toothpaste, make a few food items they can heat up for dinner, and that is it! Camping is definitely Doug's deal.
The 0lder they get, the less they'll need my help, and then I'll be sad that they are growing up and don't need me anymore. Foreshadowing I can almost promise I won't complain when they come home from college and haven't done any laundry for a whole semester, or want me to cook all their favorite dishes for days on end.
There are days that I am sad we never had a little girl, but then there are plenty of other days that I am simply very happy to be the mother of two boys.
Today we stopped by High Country to pick up the firewood Woody so kindly brought up to his store for Doug to take on the trip. Woody and Cathy both, along with the other Cathy (Green), all commented jokingly about what I would do with myself while the boys were gone. Woody was the first to answer that it is more than likely I will work night and day and get twelve million projects done. He knows me all too well.
What he doesn't know is that this time is also a gift from Doug; time for me to relax, have some alone time, get my head back on straight and gear up for the days ahead. I hope to be purposeful and present and do just that.
Go-Fish-Bingo
This morning Beckett and I played cards. I think we sort of played Go Fish, but every time one of us got a match we had to yell Bingo!
More About Oma
This morning I was cooking potatoes for the boys to take on their camping trip and it reminded me of being in the kitchen with my grandmother, who I called Oma. There are so many things I learned from her that there isn't a day that goes by when I'm not reminded of one thing or another. She was my mother for all intent and purposes.
I learned you should never cover starch when it is cooking, and that is what made me think of her today. Also, when I drained the water from the boiled potatoes I remembered how our glasses would always fog up when we did the same thing and how we would laugh and laugh about it. Some of my best memories of my childhood revolve around being in the kitchen with my grandmother and great-grandmother, who I called Grandma Markses, although her name was Marks.
Our life was so simple and straightforward until my grandmother got sick. My grandfather was retired so our days revolved around working in the garden or going for drives, sitting and eating all of our meals together at the dining room table. There wasn't any hustle and bustle of getting here or there, although they were great about all of the activities I was in and making sure they were always there to see me play softball, volleyball, basketball, tennis and swimming. They allowed me to be a part of anything I wanted to be and enjoyed every minute of being spectators.
When my grandmother got cancer, life drastically changed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't be a part of my daily life anymore, she needed to conserve her energy to fight the disease taking over her body. It was a battle she ultimately lost.
I miss her so much there aren't words to describe the feeling I get when I think of her. Every day I wish she was here and that my boys had the opportunity to know her.
I learned you should never cover starch when it is cooking, and that is what made me think of her today. Also, when I drained the water from the boiled potatoes I remembered how our glasses would always fog up when we did the same thing and how we would laugh and laugh about it. Some of my best memories of my childhood revolve around being in the kitchen with my grandmother and great-grandmother, who I called Grandma Markses, although her name was Marks.
Our life was so simple and straightforward until my grandmother got sick. My grandfather was retired so our days revolved around working in the garden or going for drives, sitting and eating all of our meals together at the dining room table. There wasn't any hustle and bustle of getting here or there, although they were great about all of the activities I was in and making sure they were always there to see me play softball, volleyball, basketball, tennis and swimming. They allowed me to be a part of anything I wanted to be and enjoyed every minute of being spectators.
When my grandmother got cancer, life drastically changed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't be a part of my daily life anymore, she needed to conserve her energy to fight the disease taking over her body. It was a battle she ultimately lost.
I miss her so much there aren't words to describe the feeling I get when I think of her. Every day I wish she was here and that my boys had the opportunity to know her.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Art Hop
Last night was Monument's Art Hop, a series of events that take place May through September. The weather was dismal, rainy and cold and I didn't anticipate a very good turnout. However, it wasn't bad. The featured artist had a few sales, we had more sales on top of that and all in all it gave the new staff at the wine bar a chance to get their feet wet.
Three weeks from now we do it all again, take down one show, put another one up. October through April I forget how much work Art Hop is. Need to rally and put the energy together to make it happen month after month.
Three weeks from now we do it all again, take down one show, put another one up. October through April I forget how much work Art Hop is. Need to rally and put the energy together to make it happen month after month.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Not So Good
Today was not a good day. Something I don't want to write about right now. Doug is taking the boys (and the dog) camping next week for a few days. Suffice to say I need some time. That isn't why he's taking the boys camping, its just good timing. I'll have four or five days to myself, which I haven't had in almost three years.
It isn't that I really want time to myself, and I certainly don't want them to give me MORE time to myself, I never want to wish for them to be away, they'll be grown up and gone plenty soon enough, I don't want to wish for it any sooner than it will already get here. I'm just saying the fact that they are going to be gone next week, happens to be good timing.
It isn't that I really want time to myself, and I certainly don't want them to give me MORE time to myself, I never want to wish for them to be away, they'll be grown up and gone plenty soon enough, I don't want to wish for it any sooner than it will already get here. I'm just saying the fact that they are going to be gone next week, happens to be good timing.
Home a Little Late
Yesterday afternoon I went to DIA at 2pm to pick up a friend, Deanne, who was flying in from Phoenix (this is home). Deanne is the only friend I have here in Monument who can actually get me to stop working and go out and play. I don’t know why that is, it just is.
So anyway, we were going to stop for some “fast food” on the way back from the airport (which I don’t really eat), and stopped in Parker because there is a Del Taco. Del Taco has some relatively healthy selections so I do eat their fast food. In the same center there were several intriguing shops so we decided against fast food, went to Ted’s Montana Grill instead, had a great early dinner and then went shopping.
I was supposed to be home by 4-ish, or intended to be, supposed to be is the wrong way of putting it. Instead I think I got home between 8:30 and 9:00. Doug, last night, surely thought I had lost my mind as this kind of thing is so unlike me to do, that losing my mind could be the only explanation.
He’s forever pestering me to get out of the store and do other things, so I did. It was fun, Deanne makes me laugh, and right now, I need laughter more than anything. So thank you Deanne, for getting me to escape and for making me laugh, a lot.
So anyway, we were going to stop for some “fast food” on the way back from the airport (which I don’t really eat), and stopped in Parker because there is a Del Taco. Del Taco has some relatively healthy selections so I do eat their fast food. In the same center there were several intriguing shops so we decided against fast food, went to Ted’s Montana Grill instead, had a great early dinner and then went shopping.
I was supposed to be home by 4-ish, or intended to be, supposed to be is the wrong way of putting it. Instead I think I got home between 8:30 and 9:00. Doug, last night, surely thought I had lost my mind as this kind of thing is so unlike me to do, that losing my mind could be the only explanation.
He’s forever pestering me to get out of the store and do other things, so I did. It was fun, Deanne makes me laugh, and right now, I need laughter more than anything. So thank you Deanne, for getting me to escape and for making me laugh, a lot.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Argh
After eleven years of marriage and four more on top of it with Doug, I'm seriously reaching my limit with the morning grouchiness. I've probably reached my limit before and gotten over it.
I wake up EVERY morning, ready to start a new day. There are days I'm a little behind, slept too late, not enough coffee, BUT for the most part I start every day in a great mood—I am, after all, the epitome of a morning person.
Doug is the POLAR opposite. He is so damn grouchy in the morning I can't stand it. He yells at the boys and invariably there is SOMETHING I have to hear the F-word about within the first half hour of the day. Sick of it, really, really, REALLY sick of it.
I wake up EVERY morning, ready to start a new day. There are days I'm a little behind, slept too late, not enough coffee, BUT for the most part I start every day in a great mood—I am, after all, the epitome of a morning person.
Doug is the POLAR opposite. He is so damn grouchy in the morning I can't stand it. He yells at the boys and invariably there is SOMETHING I have to hear the F-word about within the first half hour of the day. Sick of it, really, really, REALLY sick of it.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sunday Afternoon
It’s a choice
To stay
It’s a dream
And I wanna wake
You have blood on your hands
And I’m feeling faint
And honey
You can’t decide
I’m a drug
You don’t wanna give up
Smoke your cigarettes
Make your love
You poured blood in my heart
And I can’t get enough
I’m drowning, drowning
And you can’t decide
It’s not about geography or happenstance
You need to fly and take a chance
You don’t need to soar to emptiness
Float on high and forever dance alone
You’re scared
Cause I feel like home
Hear your voice
And I knew right away
If you were here
What your eyes would say
I have blood on my feet
As I walk away
Rivers are red
Its starting to rain
I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side
I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side
I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side
Not gonna shed one more tear for you
Shed one more tear for you
I’m not gonna shed one more tear for you
At least not until Sunday afternoon
Leave or stay
From Rachael Yamagata’s Elephants . . . Teeth Sinking Into Heart
To stay
It’s a dream
And I wanna wake
You have blood on your hands
And I’m feeling faint
And honey
You can’t decide
I’m a drug
You don’t wanna give up
Smoke your cigarettes
Make your love
You poured blood in my heart
And I can’t get enough
I’m drowning, drowning
And you can’t decide
It’s not about geography or happenstance
You need to fly and take a chance
You don’t need to soar to emptiness
Float on high and forever dance alone
You’re scared
Cause I feel like home
Hear your voice
And I knew right away
If you were here
What your eyes would say
I have blood on my feet
As I walk away
Rivers are red
Its starting to rain
I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side
I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side
I won’t live for you
Or die for you
Won’t do anything anymore for you
Cause you leave me here on the other side
You leave me here on the other side
Not gonna shed one more tear for you
Shed one more tear for you
I’m not gonna shed one more tear for you
At least not until Sunday afternoon
Leave or stay
From Rachael Yamagata’s Elephants . . . Teeth Sinking Into Heart
Genny Cream Ale
A half an hour in the sun and a half a Genesee Cream Ale (thanks Doug for getting me my favorite beer and thanks Ballou for spilling it so I didn't drink the whole thing), and I’m a happy girl.
Well No Wonder
If there is anything to be done, either at home or at the store, I can’t sit still. With two little boys, a husband and a dog, there is always something that needs to be done, it is simply never ending. It is 2:02pm and I’ve been on the move since 8 this morning. And, there’s no end in sight. I wish I was one of those people who could just overlook things like spots on the carpet, or “stuff” everywhere, but I’m not, never have been, not likely I ever will be. I rarely go downstairs because there is ALWAYS something to be done. So when I do, I just close my eyes and try to get done whatever it is I’m down there for.
Having two boys definitely lowered my standards though. I can overlook a lot more than I used to be able to, like the garage. I just, again, close my eyes and walk through it. Every now and then Doug realizes it has gotten so bad he anticipates hearing something about it. But the other thing I’ve gotten better at, is never saying anything. So before I say something that I will never say, he cleans it up.
A long time ago I saw a sign in some gift shop that said, “A messy house is a sign of a loving mom.” Yeah, well . . . I guess I’ll just have to live with the guilt.
What I’d really like to do right now is go sit in the sun somewhere and read a book. I got an email from Deanne last night saying she wished I was in Arizona with her. Me too.
Having two boys definitely lowered my standards though. I can overlook a lot more than I used to be able to, like the garage. I just, again, close my eyes and walk through it. Every now and then Doug realizes it has gotten so bad he anticipates hearing something about it. But the other thing I’ve gotten better at, is never saying anything. So before I say something that I will never say, he cleans it up.
A long time ago I saw a sign in some gift shop that said, “A messy house is a sign of a loving mom.” Yeah, well . . . I guess I’ll just have to live with the guilt.
What I’d really like to do right now is go sit in the sun somewhere and read a book. I got an email from Deanne last night saying she wished I was in Arizona with her. Me too.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Exhausted
I’m exhausted, not a good time to write I suppose. Also have a horrible headache verging on what I believe to be a migraine, but there are some things I want to remember from today and I won’t unless I do this now.
Rachel Alexandra:
I missed the Preakness due to Frank’s baseball game and the event at the wine bar (and we don’t have any tv’s in the wine bar), but I can tell you I was online every minute checking to see who won. Thirteen minutes later it was FINALLY posted that Rachel Alexandra won. Never a feminist, just the time I was born I guess, or maybe that my mother WAS so I never would be . . . and I don’t necessarily equate fillies and feminism, BUT I have to tell you that I was so excited that a filly won the preakness that the girls at the wine bar automatically assumed I had money on the race, which I did not. I just think its great . . . those colts always think they’re so hot (not really, I’m just kidding). This may be the only time in my life I use the phrase "you go girl," with any conviction (or at all).
Frank’s baseball game:
Frankie did so well tonight. When I first got there he was sitting out the inning, but then the catcher was injured so he went in. Like I said, he did really well. But I h*te those little b*st&r!s that steal bases. There wasn’t any way Frank could get all the wild pitches he was supposed to catch, and of course he blamed himself for how many kids stole bases. I just don’t think when the ball rolls under the fence (behind home plate) in Little League that the kids should be allowed to steal home. I was actually one of those parents you simply wish weren’t at games today, although I was (relatively) quiet about it. I can tell you I was really pissed. I’ll reference back to this in a minute.
Cline Event at the Wine Bar:
It ended up being an almost sold out event, which was great (I think I use this word too much, but I’m tired and my head hurts, so here it is--everything is great). Let this serve as a reminder to myself that I should never have as many OPTIONS again as I did tonight. Wine tasting with dinner; wine tasting without dinner; dinner without wine tasting; none of the above, order off the tapas menu and wine list. And if that wasn’t bad enough, one table only wanted HALF of the prix fixe dinner. OMG.
Reference Back:
The Pepples, whose son Reese was on the opposing team tonight, were at the wine event. Sherri and I often share similar opinions; and she says she really cannot attend her kids’ sporting events because she gets so upset. Yep, me too. Bob, on the other hand, thinks the whole stealing thing is a good thing because its the game of baseball and they have to learn sometime that that is the way the game is played. Yeah, he’s right, but not when MY son is catching, okay?
Anniversary:
I guess when you have two kids and a wine bar, there really isn’t time for anniversaries, but everybody who was there tonight wished ME a happy one (since Doug was home with the boys). No big deal, just mildly funny.
Kept getting funny texts and emails all night, which made the night bearable. Otherwise, wine events aren’t really all that fun if my favorite customers aren’t there, and they weren’t. I love Cline wines, but I didn’t taste a single one tonight, just not in the mood, good thing there are still some in the cellar.
I think there was more I wanted to remember to write about, but I’m spent and every single inch of my body aches. I hope I feel better tomorrow.
Rachel Alexandra:
I missed the Preakness due to Frank’s baseball game and the event at the wine bar (and we don’t have any tv’s in the wine bar), but I can tell you I was online every minute checking to see who won. Thirteen minutes later it was FINALLY posted that Rachel Alexandra won. Never a feminist, just the time I was born I guess, or maybe that my mother WAS so I never would be . . . and I don’t necessarily equate fillies and feminism, BUT I have to tell you that I was so excited that a filly won the preakness that the girls at the wine bar automatically assumed I had money on the race, which I did not. I just think its great . . . those colts always think they’re so hot (not really, I’m just kidding). This may be the only time in my life I use the phrase "you go girl," with any conviction (or at all).
Frank’s baseball game:
Frankie did so well tonight. When I first got there he was sitting out the inning, but then the catcher was injured so he went in. Like I said, he did really well. But I h*te those little b*st&r!s that steal bases. There wasn’t any way Frank could get all the wild pitches he was supposed to catch, and of course he blamed himself for how many kids stole bases. I just don’t think when the ball rolls under the fence (behind home plate) in Little League that the kids should be allowed to steal home. I was actually one of those parents you simply wish weren’t at games today, although I was (relatively) quiet about it. I can tell you I was really pissed. I’ll reference back to this in a minute.
Cline Event at the Wine Bar:
It ended up being an almost sold out event, which was great (I think I use this word too much, but I’m tired and my head hurts, so here it is--everything is great). Let this serve as a reminder to myself that I should never have as many OPTIONS again as I did tonight. Wine tasting with dinner; wine tasting without dinner; dinner without wine tasting; none of the above, order off the tapas menu and wine list. And if that wasn’t bad enough, one table only wanted HALF of the prix fixe dinner. OMG.
Reference Back:
The Pepples, whose son Reese was on the opposing team tonight, were at the wine event. Sherri and I often share similar opinions; and she says she really cannot attend her kids’ sporting events because she gets so upset. Yep, me too. Bob, on the other hand, thinks the whole stealing thing is a good thing because its the game of baseball and they have to learn sometime that that is the way the game is played. Yeah, he’s right, but not when MY son is catching, okay?
Anniversary:
I guess when you have two kids and a wine bar, there really isn’t time for anniversaries, but everybody who was there tonight wished ME a happy one (since Doug was home with the boys). No big deal, just mildly funny.
Kept getting funny texts and emails all night, which made the night bearable. Otherwise, wine events aren’t really all that fun if my favorite customers aren’t there, and they weren’t. I love Cline wines, but I didn’t taste a single one tonight, just not in the mood, good thing there are still some in the cellar.
I think there was more I wanted to remember to write about, but I’m spent and every single inch of my body aches. I hope I feel better tomorrow.
Friday, May 15, 2009
If You Could Fall
Candlelight. Steel blue-gray clouds over swollen life.
Sweet balance and snowflakes on the steps, waiting,
Like me.
Beautiful,
If only you were able to move, to go, to fly, to fall.
I know how deep your smile
How hard your love
How far your longing
How wild your passion
If you were able to fall.
To see you there then
Would tickle me crazy
To see you there in the embrace of that fall.
But I already know that fear
You have that smile.
Your eyes burn under their brim
That love
That joy
That fall.
Therefore I hum, I sigh, I giggle
I kiss, I smile, I know
I vow, I go
Having had that joy
Having had that very joy I desire for you,
And you fall.
Sweet balance and snowflakes on the steps, waiting,
Like me.
Beautiful,
If only you were able to move, to go, to fly, to fall.
I know how deep your smile
How hard your love
How far your longing
How wild your passion
If you were able to fall.
To see you there then
Would tickle me crazy
To see you there in the embrace of that fall.
But I already know that fear
You have that smile.
Your eyes burn under their brim
That love
That joy
That fall.
Therefore I hum, I sigh, I giggle
I kiss, I smile, I know
I vow, I go
Having had that joy
Having had that very joy I desire for you,
And you fall.
May 15
Eleven years ago Doug and I were in Cambria, along with most of our friends. On this day, if I remember correctly, all the girls (and there were A LOT of them), were gathered at the beach house on Windsor Drive for manicures, pedicures and massages—oh, and wine. What a day that was.
Followed later by the wedding rehearsal, at which, Doug and I came very close to being married right there and then, although Pastor Russ didn’t cooperate. That certainly would have been a twist. We’re simply not that impulsive.
Then, later that evening, we all gathered at the Sea Chest for the rehearsal dinner. It is one of my fondest memories. I’ll never forget seeing my friend Meredith walk in the door. She surprised me and flew in from New York and I hadn’t thought she was going to be able to make it.
I remember how Doug’s father got tears in his eyes when Doug gave him the watercolor of Piedras Blancas—a painting that continues to make me misty-eyed whenever I see it hanging in their home in Florida.
AND, I remember Doug’s face when he saw the groom’s cake I had made, and the pride in his eyes when I told the story of him insisting we would only get married on top of Half Dome and there, his cake, was a topographic map of Yosemite Valley with a bride and groom on Half Dome. It isn’t often that I can impress Doug with any sort of creativity because he is always light years ahead of me in that department. But that night, and the next day, I think he was proud of all I had done for the wedding.
It is hard to believe we’ve been married eleven years, although since Frank is almost ten, I am reminded that it has, in fact, been that long on a daily basis. At the same time it seems as though we’ve been married fifty years.
Fifteen years ago, I had a dinner party at my house with Doug and Bonnie Toth, Per and Elaine (then Gasparek) Welinder and Doug Buchman, and from that night on, Doug and I have never been apart except for a couple vacations here and there. We intentionally got married around our “dating” anniversary because at the time, Doug thought he was going to have to remember both. (How sweet is that?) And then there’s that other event that takes place this weekend, the Paso Robles Wine Festival, and we figured all our friends would be there every year anyway, why not also celebrate our wedding anniversary. I sure wish we were headed there today. But alas, we are not.
Followed later by the wedding rehearsal, at which, Doug and I came very close to being married right there and then, although Pastor Russ didn’t cooperate. That certainly would have been a twist. We’re simply not that impulsive.
Then, later that evening, we all gathered at the Sea Chest for the rehearsal dinner. It is one of my fondest memories. I’ll never forget seeing my friend Meredith walk in the door. She surprised me and flew in from New York and I hadn’t thought she was going to be able to make it.
I remember how Doug’s father got tears in his eyes when Doug gave him the watercolor of Piedras Blancas—a painting that continues to make me misty-eyed whenever I see it hanging in their home in Florida.
AND, I remember Doug’s face when he saw the groom’s cake I had made, and the pride in his eyes when I told the story of him insisting we would only get married on top of Half Dome and there, his cake, was a topographic map of Yosemite Valley with a bride and groom on Half Dome. It isn’t often that I can impress Doug with any sort of creativity because he is always light years ahead of me in that department. But that night, and the next day, I think he was proud of all I had done for the wedding.
It is hard to believe we’ve been married eleven years, although since Frank is almost ten, I am reminded that it has, in fact, been that long on a daily basis. At the same time it seems as though we’ve been married fifty years.
Fifteen years ago, I had a dinner party at my house with Doug and Bonnie Toth, Per and Elaine (then Gasparek) Welinder and Doug Buchman, and from that night on, Doug and I have never been apart except for a couple vacations here and there. We intentionally got married around our “dating” anniversary because at the time, Doug thought he was going to have to remember both. (How sweet is that?) And then there’s that other event that takes place this weekend, the Paso Robles Wine Festival, and we figured all our friends would be there every year anyway, why not also celebrate our wedding anniversary. I sure wish we were headed there today. But alas, we are not.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
MOMS Club
It has been such an interesting day. As I already said, I haven’t been in the store very much.
And now, I am in the midst of deja vu (all over again). There is a MOMS Club banquet at the wine bar tonight! For any of you I know from the MOMS Club that are reading this, I can almost guarantee you either said, “OMG you’re kidding,” or burst out laughing. How long was I president? I know in the book as I was given someone wrote that they thought I would be president until our children graduated from high school. That was clearly my signal to RETIRE!
As are typical with MOMS Club banquets, there are lots of thank yous, lots of flowers, lots of gifts and lots of tears. They opened with “what MOMS Club has meant to me,” which, of course, brought the memories flooding back to me. Some of my closest friends are women I met at MOMS Club. In fact, at the last annual banquet I attended, I wrote Chris her “letter,” in which I asked her to Beckett’s godmother.
I have to admit that I don’t think about MOMS Club all that often, although with the advent of Facebook, I am happy to be back in touch with so many of you again. It was a great time of my life and I cherish the memories for myself and for Frank.
Frank is a kid whose teachers always comment that he gets along with any age group. He never sticks to only those in his class, he hangs out with kids older, kids younger, it makes no difference to him. And he fits in with all of them. Every parent-teacher conference I’ve had, that comes up. Each of his teachers tell me how unique Frank is in that way. I attribute it to MOMS Club.
I will never forget the first park day I went to. That day I met Alicia Light, June Batista, Jane Watson and Chris Piovesan. When we were in California last summer, four of the five us got together at the beach and it was if no time whatsoever had passed, either for us or for our children, who get along as well as we do.
Alicia gave Frank his first pretzel. It was that day I learned that kids ALWAYS want someone else’s food, NOT the snack you packed for them. And more importantly, I learned that was OKAY. As a somewhat older new mom, I was probably more concerned with doing it “right” than I should have been. These women taught me that whatever I did was right, and if it wasn’t, it would all work out anyway.
I’m not sure what kind of mother I would be without my MOMS Club experience. Less patient I’m sure. Less tolerant of my own children and other people’s children. Less tolerant of other mothers, or more judgmental I suppose. I learned so much about sacrifice and smiling in the face of it. And most importantly, to simply have fun, cherish the moment, and to remember as much as I possibly can and not wish for any instant to go by faster than it already does.
So once again, in the spirit of the banquet taking place tonight, I thank each one of you I know from the MOMS Club. And I want you to know that I miss you, very much.
And now, I am in the midst of deja vu (all over again). There is a MOMS Club banquet at the wine bar tonight! For any of you I know from the MOMS Club that are reading this, I can almost guarantee you either said, “OMG you’re kidding,” or burst out laughing. How long was I president? I know in the book as I was given someone wrote that they thought I would be president until our children graduated from high school. That was clearly my signal to RETIRE!
As are typical with MOMS Club banquets, there are lots of thank yous, lots of flowers, lots of gifts and lots of tears. They opened with “what MOMS Club has meant to me,” which, of course, brought the memories flooding back to me. Some of my closest friends are women I met at MOMS Club. In fact, at the last annual banquet I attended, I wrote Chris her “letter,” in which I asked her to Beckett’s godmother.
I have to admit that I don’t think about MOMS Club all that often, although with the advent of Facebook, I am happy to be back in touch with so many of you again. It was a great time of my life and I cherish the memories for myself and for Frank.
Frank is a kid whose teachers always comment that he gets along with any age group. He never sticks to only those in his class, he hangs out with kids older, kids younger, it makes no difference to him. And he fits in with all of them. Every parent-teacher conference I’ve had, that comes up. Each of his teachers tell me how unique Frank is in that way. I attribute it to MOMS Club.
I will never forget the first park day I went to. That day I met Alicia Light, June Batista, Jane Watson and Chris Piovesan. When we were in California last summer, four of the five us got together at the beach and it was if no time whatsoever had passed, either for us or for our children, who get along as well as we do.
Alicia gave Frank his first pretzel. It was that day I learned that kids ALWAYS want someone else’s food, NOT the snack you packed for them. And more importantly, I learned that was OKAY. As a somewhat older new mom, I was probably more concerned with doing it “right” than I should have been. These women taught me that whatever I did was right, and if it wasn’t, it would all work out anyway.
I’m not sure what kind of mother I would be without my MOMS Club experience. Less patient I’m sure. Less tolerant of my own children and other people’s children. Less tolerant of other mothers, or more judgmental I suppose. I learned so much about sacrifice and smiling in the face of it. And most importantly, to simply have fun, cherish the moment, and to remember as much as I possibly can and not wish for any instant to go by faster than it already does.
So once again, in the spirit of the banquet taking place tonight, I thank each one of you I know from the MOMS Club. And I want you to know that I miss you, very much.
Art Quote
I want to remember today’s art quote, it is so apropos to what I just wrote. And perhaps it helps explain what I wrote a few minutes ago.
The noblest pleasure is the joy of understanding.
—Leonardo da Vinci
The quote will be gone tomorrow and I want to keep it part of my blog. So now it is.
The noblest pleasure is the joy of understanding.
—Leonardo da Vinci
The quote will be gone tomorrow and I want to keep it part of my blog. So now it is.
Thursday
Today is a weird day; mainly I suppose because I haven’t been in the store all day; which is unusual. I had to go down to the Springs today, and I rarely ever leave Monument. My intention was to drop off an envelope to someone and pick up another envelope from someone else. What happened instead was that I had a lengthy meeting and lunch with a client.
I’m not sure how to comment; suffice to say it was positive, and since I can’t seem to find words to write about something I’d like to write about, I guess I should take it as a sign that I’m not ready.
I have such a unique relationship with my clients, I suppose I always have been that way. When I was in “book mode,” I approached it from the standpoint that a book was to an author as a child is to a parent. Some of these authors had dreamed and worked on their books most of their lives. It was something sacred to them. My approach isn’t exactly the same with clients. There are just two things that are paramount to my being able to successfully market their product or service: first I have to believe in whatever it is they are selling; second, I have to be able to feel completely comfortable speaking my mind. There can be no animosity in these relationships or I am not effective.
Thus, I’m not great about keeping business and personal separate. I do to a certain extent, but often I end up being friends with clients who have left their businesses or retired or what have you. I stay in contact with them for years.
After I left the meeting, I had a couple of hours to myself. I ran several errands and was visibly agitated by the intrusion of emails and phone calls. One might ask why I didn’t simply turn my phone off. The answer is simple, I am a mother of two young boys, I never turn my phone off.
It is a reflective day, I need more of these.
I’m not sure how to comment; suffice to say it was positive, and since I can’t seem to find words to write about something I’d like to write about, I guess I should take it as a sign that I’m not ready.
I have such a unique relationship with my clients, I suppose I always have been that way. When I was in “book mode,” I approached it from the standpoint that a book was to an author as a child is to a parent. Some of these authors had dreamed and worked on their books most of their lives. It was something sacred to them. My approach isn’t exactly the same with clients. There are just two things that are paramount to my being able to successfully market their product or service: first I have to believe in whatever it is they are selling; second, I have to be able to feel completely comfortable speaking my mind. There can be no animosity in these relationships or I am not effective.
Thus, I’m not great about keeping business and personal separate. I do to a certain extent, but often I end up being friends with clients who have left their businesses or retired or what have you. I stay in contact with them for years.
After I left the meeting, I had a couple of hours to myself. I ran several errands and was visibly agitated by the intrusion of emails and phone calls. One might ask why I didn’t simply turn my phone off. The answer is simple, I am a mother of two young boys, I never turn my phone off.
It is a reflective day, I need more of these.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Frank's Hat
Frank got his hat taken away at school, by his teacher. School rule: no hats. He has been wearing hats. Gets warnings, still wears hat. Mrs. Cole takes his hat away. She keeps it for a few days, I could have emailed or called and he would’ve gotten it back, but I figured it was a good lesson to be without it for a week.
This morning he comes to me and tells me that in order to get his hat back, I have to go to the school for a parent-teacher conference. Okay, that seems major for a hat infraction. He gives me a few minutes and then comes up to me as I’m folding laundry and says, “Mom, are you mad at me?”
I answer, “Why would I be mad at you?”
“About the hat.”
“Well Frank, is this the same hat that was taken away before?”
“Um, yeah . . . well, she gave it back and then took it away again.”
“Why did she take it away again?”
“Because I was wearing it at recess.”
Exasperated sigh.
“Frank, I’m not mad at you, BUT, you have been pushing boundaries here, at school, at Taekwondo, everywhere . . . blah, blah, blah.”
I emailed Mrs. Cole to find out if I really needed to come to school about the hat, or was there more to it? She answered that no, it was just the hat and now that we had the email exchange, she would slip it into his backpack at the end of the day.
I answered her with a reiteration of my conversation with Frank and knew that it was a hectic time of the year for her to keep track of his hat for a few more days (10 more days til the last day of school), BUT I hated that he was getting off this easily.
Mrs. Cole offered to keep the hat for the summer. I won’t go that far, but I appreciate Mrs. Cole offering and like her even more for it.
This morning he comes to me and tells me that in order to get his hat back, I have to go to the school for a parent-teacher conference. Okay, that seems major for a hat infraction. He gives me a few minutes and then comes up to me as I’m folding laundry and says, “Mom, are you mad at me?”
I answer, “Why would I be mad at you?”
“About the hat.”
“Well Frank, is this the same hat that was taken away before?”
“Um, yeah . . . well, she gave it back and then took it away again.”
“Why did she take it away again?”
“Because I was wearing it at recess.”
Exasperated sigh.
“Frank, I’m not mad at you, BUT, you have been pushing boundaries here, at school, at Taekwondo, everywhere . . . blah, blah, blah.”
I emailed Mrs. Cole to find out if I really needed to come to school about the hat, or was there more to it? She answered that no, it was just the hat and now that we had the email exchange, she would slip it into his backpack at the end of the day.
I answered her with a reiteration of my conversation with Frank and knew that it was a hectic time of the year for her to keep track of his hat for a few more days (10 more days til the last day of school), BUT I hated that he was getting off this easily.
Mrs. Cole offered to keep the hat for the summer. I won’t go that far, but I appreciate Mrs. Cole offering and like her even more for it.
Andy Somebody
I’ve told this story soooo many times at the wine bar, it seems impossible that I would forget it, BUT, I’m going to write about it anyway because there have certainly been plenty of things that I never thought I would forget, and I have.
Last year, when our dear friend Allan was visiting, we were holding interview/auditions at the wine bar for acoustic musicians. Since Allan was in town, I was late arriving for one of said auditions.
I walked into the wine bar and over on the other side of the room, was this guy, Andy, playing the guitar and singing one of his original songs. I got chills. The combination of his voice and guitar were perfect, just perfect. He stopped, we introduced ourselves to one another and then he played his next song. I got tears in my eyes.
Andy finished his audition, I booked him for a couple of dates later that month and he left.
An hour or so later, it dawned on me that I didn’t know his last name, his phone number, his email address. Nothing. All I knew was his first name was Andy and he was scheduled to play a couple dates that month. Great. As a MARKETING person, I obviously am obsessive about flyers and ads and website updates and event postings. And what did I know about this guy? Nothing. The employee who worked for us at the time and doesn’t anymore (but not because of this incident, although it is indicative of why she doesn’t), didn’t get any information from him either, even though she was the one who scheduled the audition.
So what to do? It occurred to me that I should simply be honest. And this is what I wrote:
Oh, his name is Andy Henningsen.
Last year, when our dear friend Allan was visiting, we were holding interview/auditions at the wine bar for acoustic musicians. Since Allan was in town, I was late arriving for one of said auditions.
I walked into the wine bar and over on the other side of the room, was this guy, Andy, playing the guitar and singing one of his original songs. I got chills. The combination of his voice and guitar were perfect, just perfect. He stopped, we introduced ourselves to one another and then he played his next song. I got tears in my eyes.
Andy finished his audition, I booked him for a couple of dates later that month and he left.
An hour or so later, it dawned on me that I didn’t know his last name, his phone number, his email address. Nothing. All I knew was his first name was Andy and he was scheduled to play a couple dates that month. Great. As a MARKETING person, I obviously am obsessive about flyers and ads and website updates and event postings. And what did I know about this guy? Nothing. The employee who worked for us at the time and doesn’t anymore (but not because of this incident, although it is indicative of why she doesn’t), didn’t get any information from him either, even though she was the one who scheduled the audition.
So what to do? It occurred to me that I should simply be honest. And this is what I wrote:
Andy “Somebody”I love Andy. He is the sweetest, nicest guy ever. He played the wine bar this past Friday and told me he’s going out on his first tour and will be gone the entire month of June. I’m devastated. Well maybe that is overstating it. I’m disappointed. I don’t like good-byes, I suck at them, always have, even the ones that are for short amounts of time. So Andy won’t be back until July. He assures me my phone will be ringing the minute he’s back in town and he will be anxious to come back and play for us. He better.
We don’t know anything about Andy, not even his last name. All we can tell you is that we were so mesmerized by his voice and music when he came in to play for us that we completely forgot to ask him for a bio or a photo. Andy is a mystery man, but we can guarantee that you will enjoy listening to him so much, all clear thinking will go straight out of your head.
Oh, his name is Andy Henningsen.
Ballou
I’ve never been a dog person, or maybe it was that my mother was SUCH a dog person, I thought I wasn’t. Up to this point in my life, I’ve always been a cat-girl. Last year, as I’ve written about before, my beloved twenty-one-year-old cat, Snapper, died, while we were on vacation. It was expected, she had been losing weight, and looking frail, so none of us were surprised. That was June.
By August I was ready for another member of the family, and this time we went looking for a dog. Our first choice was a golden retriever. Not the right time of year to look for golden retriever puppies I guess, or, we were fated for something different. We searched and searched and couldn’t find the right dog. To say Doug is picky, well, is an understatement. By the time we got to the last place we were going to look, the boys and I honestly would’ve taken ANY dog.
We looked at a couple, and then someone brought us the cutest, sweetest black cocker spaniel. I’m pretty sure I teared up. I have always loved cocker spaniels, but my (mean) mother, would never let us have one; she was a Pomeranian fan. Anyway, I don’t want to get sidetracked on a mom-rant, I immediately fell in love with this little black puppy. I had never seen a black cocker before and found out they are called black and blues because they are so black, it has a blue tinge to it.
I think Doug took one look at me with this puppy and knew we had finally found “the one.” There wasn’t any way I was leaving without him, and Doug knew it. I think I even, through my tears, told him that I had always wanted one . . . blah, blah, blah. Doug has his moments of sweetness, it isn’t in the top five words I’d use to describe him, but he DOES have his moments and that dog was mine. Of course, it was Frank’s in name, but it was clearly, indisputably, mine.
Doug has always wanted a golden retriever named Mojo. Beckett has a little stuffed golden (that my mom, yes the mean one, got for him), and he calls it Mojo. So, Mojo was out for the name because it is reserved for another dog we’ll have at another time.
I didn’t want to name him Blue (I’m the mother of a five-year-old, then four, Blue is a female dog that looks for clues). I kept playing around with variations of blue, and came to Ballou (you know, Jungle Book, not Cat). Doug liked it, which is amazing (very picky remember?) and the name stuck.
Ballou was born three days after my mother died. That is significant to me. I’ve never told anyone that. I don’t think it dawned on Doug and I have no reason to tell him. It is my own little bit of something.
Ballou is a great dog. Many people have told us that cocker spaniels are prone to mean streaks, but Ballou has none of that. He is sweet and patient, even with Beckett, who, as he gets older, pulls his ears less and less. Ballou isn’t just my dog anymore. He is Doug’s dog, sometimes. He is Frank’s dog, sometimes. He is Beckett’s dog, sometimes. And he is my dog, sometimes. Beckett calls Ballou his brother. We’re happy to have him in our family.
By August I was ready for another member of the family, and this time we went looking for a dog. Our first choice was a golden retriever. Not the right time of year to look for golden retriever puppies I guess, or, we were fated for something different. We searched and searched and couldn’t find the right dog. To say Doug is picky, well, is an understatement. By the time we got to the last place we were going to look, the boys and I honestly would’ve taken ANY dog.
We looked at a couple, and then someone brought us the cutest, sweetest black cocker spaniel. I’m pretty sure I teared up. I have always loved cocker spaniels, but my (mean) mother, would never let us have one; she was a Pomeranian fan. Anyway, I don’t want to get sidetracked on a mom-rant, I immediately fell in love with this little black puppy. I had never seen a black cocker before and found out they are called black and blues because they are so black, it has a blue tinge to it.
I think Doug took one look at me with this puppy and knew we had finally found “the one.” There wasn’t any way I was leaving without him, and Doug knew it. I think I even, through my tears, told him that I had always wanted one . . . blah, blah, blah. Doug has his moments of sweetness, it isn’t in the top five words I’d use to describe him, but he DOES have his moments and that dog was mine. Of course, it was Frank’s in name, but it was clearly, indisputably, mine.
Doug has always wanted a golden retriever named Mojo. Beckett has a little stuffed golden (that my mom, yes the mean one, got for him), and he calls it Mojo. So, Mojo was out for the name because it is reserved for another dog we’ll have at another time.
I didn’t want to name him Blue (I’m the mother of a five-year-old, then four, Blue is a female dog that looks for clues). I kept playing around with variations of blue, and came to Ballou (you know, Jungle Book, not Cat). Doug liked it, which is amazing (very picky remember?) and the name stuck.
Ballou was born three days after my mother died. That is significant to me. I’ve never told anyone that. I don’t think it dawned on Doug and I have no reason to tell him. It is my own little bit of something.
Ballou is a great dog. Many people have told us that cocker spaniels are prone to mean streaks, but Ballou has none of that. He is sweet and patient, even with Beckett, who, as he gets older, pulls his ears less and less. Ballou isn’t just my dog anymore. He is Doug’s dog, sometimes. He is Frank’s dog, sometimes. He is Beckett’s dog, sometimes. And he is my dog, sometimes. Beckett calls Ballou his brother. We’re happy to have him in our family.
The Heartbreaker
My little Beckett is going to be a heart-breaker; I can predict it already. Almost every morning he comes upstairs and crawls into my yet unmade bed, looks over at me, reaches out his arms and says, "Mo-o-o-m, I need some snuggles." It is the CUTEST thing ever.
This morning, I was running a little behind. Beckett and I aren't REALLY on a schedule in the morning, when he gets to preschool, he gets there, I don't pay attention to what time it is. The store doesn't open until 10, so if we're running behind, so what. We usually leave a little before Doug and Frank and sometimes a little after. For whatever reason, Beck was anxious to get to school today. I was still in the bathroom fixing my hair or something and he came and said, "Mo-o-o-m (the only way he ever says mom), WHEN are you going to be ready to go?" I answered, "I just have to brush my teeth and make the bed and then we can go." He says, "I'll just sit here and watch you, because then you'll go faster." Oh really?
This morning, I was running a little behind. Beckett and I aren't REALLY on a schedule in the morning, when he gets to preschool, he gets there, I don't pay attention to what time it is. The store doesn't open until 10, so if we're running behind, so what. We usually leave a little before Doug and Frank and sometimes a little after. For whatever reason, Beck was anxious to get to school today. I was still in the bathroom fixing my hair or something and he came and said, "Mo-o-o-m (the only way he ever says mom), WHEN are you going to be ready to go?" I answered, "I just have to brush my teeth and make the bed and then we can go." He says, "I'll just sit here and watch you, because then you'll go faster." Oh really?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Estes Park
We're just back from a long weekend in Estes Park. The drive up was in a word--gorgeous. Lilacs have started blooming and another varietal which Doug thinks is related to the Dogwood, was also in bloom. We went through Boulder (which Doug and I always call Berkeley, not sure if we intentionally slip or not), and then Lyons, which I have always wanted to see and was not disappointed.
Estes Park was more of a town that I thought it would be. I expected it to be more of a enclave of motels outside Rocky Mountain National Park. There is even a wine bar in Estes. Curiously, they have two doors, on one side they sell for off-premise consumption and on the other side, through the other door, it is a wine and cheese bar. The part that makes it curious is that they have a large archway cut between the two stores. Seems like it wouldn't be legal to me, but their explanation was that they were two separate business, two separate licenses, two separate distributor accounts, etc., and that they only shared a staff. Hmmm, still doesn't seem like that would be legal, but who am I to question it.
We stayed in a lovely little inn called the Silver Moon; their customer service was exceptional. Saturday was spent settling in, resting, reading in the sun, and walking around town. After Frank and Doug hit the skate park, we made our way up to the historic Stanley Hotel for a visit. As we always do when we visit historic or grand hotels, Doug and I had a drink in the bar and the boys had Shirley Temples. There were at least three weddings taking place and at one point there were two sets of brides and grooms having their photos taken on the veranda. Must've felt special, kinda assembly-linish. Anyway, it seems as though the Stanley is a very popular place to get married.
We found a little pub in town we quite liked and ate there twice during our trip. On Sunday we woke up and intended to go on a hike before brunch, however, the weather was NOT cooperating. We called Mary's Lake Lodge and moved our reservation up a couple of hours (they were very nice to be accommodating). Brunch was fabulous, everything a Mother's Day Brunch should be. We all had great fun sampling ALL of the desserts, eating too much smoked salmon and shrimp and basically just being decadent. Beckett is getting to be old enough to participate and understand the fun, and has a great, dry wit. He just makes me laugh and laugh with some of the stuff he says. I wish I could remember right now something funny he said, but I cannot.
After brunch we went for our hike in Rocky Mountain National Park. First stop we trekked down the very icy path to Bear Lake; then on to Sprague Lake which had a very nice walking path all the way around the lake. Frank insisted he saw a beaver, but I think it was probably the bottom end of a duck. We stopped at Moraine Park and spent quite a long time walking alongside the river, which was the only thing separately us from a herd of a 200 or more elk.
Monday came too soon, but we weren’t in any hurry. We took a route home that led us through Nederland, home of the Frozen Dead Guy Days. Interesting. Frank got two frozen dead guy t-shirts. The drive was pretty, through mainly forests and then dumping us out in Golden. I much preferred the drive to Estes Park over the drive home, but it was a highway Doug wanted to explore, better to just go with the flow since it is more important to him than it is to me.
Home again. Back to work. Lots to do. Of course.
Estes Park was more of a town that I thought it would be. I expected it to be more of a enclave of motels outside Rocky Mountain National Park. There is even a wine bar in Estes. Curiously, they have two doors, on one side they sell for off-premise consumption and on the other side, through the other door, it is a wine and cheese bar. The part that makes it curious is that they have a large archway cut between the two stores. Seems like it wouldn't be legal to me, but their explanation was that they were two separate business, two separate licenses, two separate distributor accounts, etc., and that they only shared a staff. Hmmm, still doesn't seem like that would be legal, but who am I to question it.
We stayed in a lovely little inn called the Silver Moon; their customer service was exceptional. Saturday was spent settling in, resting, reading in the sun, and walking around town. After Frank and Doug hit the skate park, we made our way up to the historic Stanley Hotel for a visit. As we always do when we visit historic or grand hotels, Doug and I had a drink in the bar and the boys had Shirley Temples. There were at least three weddings taking place and at one point there were two sets of brides and grooms having their photos taken on the veranda. Must've felt special, kinda assembly-linish. Anyway, it seems as though the Stanley is a very popular place to get married.
We found a little pub in town we quite liked and ate there twice during our trip. On Sunday we woke up and intended to go on a hike before brunch, however, the weather was NOT cooperating. We called Mary's Lake Lodge and moved our reservation up a couple of hours (they were very nice to be accommodating). Brunch was fabulous, everything a Mother's Day Brunch should be. We all had great fun sampling ALL of the desserts, eating too much smoked salmon and shrimp and basically just being decadent. Beckett is getting to be old enough to participate and understand the fun, and has a great, dry wit. He just makes me laugh and laugh with some of the stuff he says. I wish I could remember right now something funny he said, but I cannot.
After brunch we went for our hike in Rocky Mountain National Park. First stop we trekked down the very icy path to Bear Lake; then on to Sprague Lake which had a very nice walking path all the way around the lake. Frank insisted he saw a beaver, but I think it was probably the bottom end of a duck. We stopped at Moraine Park and spent quite a long time walking alongside the river, which was the only thing separately us from a herd of a 200 or more elk.
Monday came too soon, but we weren’t in any hurry. We took a route home that led us through Nederland, home of the Frozen Dead Guy Days. Interesting. Frank got two frozen dead guy t-shirts. The drive was pretty, through mainly forests and then dumping us out in Golden. I much preferred the drive to Estes Park over the drive home, but it was a highway Doug wanted to explore, better to just go with the flow since it is more important to him than it is to me.
Home again. Back to work. Lots to do. Of course.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Summer
Doug mapped out our entire summer last night, complete with vacations, camping trips and summer camps for the boys. It was, and always is, overwhelming, although I have to admit I have a sense of relief when we're finished "planning." Doug researches everything.
This planning and research is one of the things I love most about him. He makes sure we do fun things and travel and the boys have things to do. I'm glad this is the part of our lives he manages. Our leisure.
We are going to South Dakota this summer, and while I would always prefer to go sit on a beach somewhere, this will be far more interesting.
He has also worked in plans for us to go to Pennsylvania. It is making me yearn to go to New York, and Canada Lake again. Perhaps for my fiftieth.
Short week this week, off on Friday for Estes Park for a long Mother's Day weekend. He has kindly booked an inn for us as camping in May in Colorado can mean you wake up to snow. Frank is really disappointed, but Doug assured him that given it was Mother's Day to trust him, it would be MUCH better this way.
I'm an anxious and so is Frank. Yesterday neither of us could sit still. Even with great amounts of exercise it was as if we had an overflowing pool of kinetic energy that wouldn't let us be. I feel calmer this morning, I hope Frank picks up on that and is calmer too.
This planning and research is one of the things I love most about him. He makes sure we do fun things and travel and the boys have things to do. I'm glad this is the part of our lives he manages. Our leisure.
We are going to South Dakota this summer, and while I would always prefer to go sit on a beach somewhere, this will be far more interesting.
He has also worked in plans for us to go to Pennsylvania. It is making me yearn to go to New York, and Canada Lake again. Perhaps for my fiftieth.
Short week this week, off on Friday for Estes Park for a long Mother's Day weekend. He has kindly booked an inn for us as camping in May in Colorado can mean you wake up to snow. Frank is really disappointed, but Doug assured him that given it was Mother's Day to trust him, it would be MUCH better this way.
I'm an anxious and so is Frank. Yesterday neither of us could sit still. Even with great amounts of exercise it was as if we had an overflowing pool of kinetic energy that wouldn't let us be. I feel calmer this morning, I hope Frank picks up on that and is calmer too.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
A New Day
Today, Sunday, has started sunny and beautiful. There aren't any little league games scheduled for Sundays, so Sundays always seem to be gorgeous, as opposed to Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, when the games and practices are scheduled.
Both my boys are so anxious to play baseball and this season has been plagued by snow and rain, muddy fields, frigid temperatures. We go to Dirty Woman Park and play almost every Sunday afternoon, so the boys get a little batting, pitching, catching practice, but it just isn't the same as a good old-fashioned baseball game for them.
Two of my favorite wine bar customers were in last week with a friend from Iowa. I ended up sitting with them for the evening and chatting. Funny that the woman from Iowa had never lived on a farm. We all laughed and laughed about how EVERYONE in Iowa has lived on a farm at some point in their life. Not her, her father was an attorney and they were city-folk. When she told us the story of the fishing trip her father took her and her sister on when they were little I was practically rolling on the floor laughing.
Anyway, back to the point and how this relates to baseball: there is a Field of Dreams park in Iowa that someone built after the movie. I suppose everyone most know this, but I didn't and think it would be great fun to visit it. We have our trip to South Dakota coming up and a mini-trip to Estes Park for Mother's Day (I can't WAIT!), but I think Iowa should be on our list someday. I should have the camera handy when I tell Doug I'd like to plan a trip to Iowa; my guess is the look on his face will be priceless.
Both my boys are so anxious to play baseball and this season has been plagued by snow and rain, muddy fields, frigid temperatures. We go to Dirty Woman Park and play almost every Sunday afternoon, so the boys get a little batting, pitching, catching practice, but it just isn't the same as a good old-fashioned baseball game for them.
Two of my favorite wine bar customers were in last week with a friend from Iowa. I ended up sitting with them for the evening and chatting. Funny that the woman from Iowa had never lived on a farm. We all laughed and laughed about how EVERYONE in Iowa has lived on a farm at some point in their life. Not her, her father was an attorney and they were city-folk. When she told us the story of the fishing trip her father took her and her sister on when they were little I was practically rolling on the floor laughing.
Anyway, back to the point and how this relates to baseball: there is a Field of Dreams park in Iowa that someone built after the movie. I suppose everyone most know this, but I didn't and think it would be great fun to visit it. We have our trip to South Dakota coming up and a mini-trip to Estes Park for Mother's Day (I can't WAIT!), but I think Iowa should be on our list someday. I should have the camera handy when I tell Doug I'd like to plan a trip to Iowa; my guess is the look on his face will be priceless.
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