Bloggin' from Vail, CO

I'm sitting in Vail with my fam - 2 of my sisters, my boy Elroy (Jud), and niecelet Jordie Beordie. Plus bro-in-law Jim the attorney. I just made an emergency trip to Wally World in Avon. Hostess Cindo needed toothpicks and Frito Scoops. Wal-Mart in Avon is larger than some Iowa towns.


We had an exciting trip here. Not really. Pablo was worried about the weather - and he had every right to be. Freezing rain was coming, and they weren't sure when. So I hit the Ugly Sweather party at Bobbie's house with my Homies, Monday night. It was fun - I think that's a whole nother blog.


So after the Monday night homie party, I got home and was brainless about packing even though I only drank Squirt at the partay. Duh. Here's what i forgot:

• cord for my laptop. Blue, my new laptop is cordless, and bleeding power as I write.







• face lotion







• iPod and charger







• Vitamins

So nothing I can't live without, but still irritating! We checked into buying a power cord for Blue, and found they're like $100. Guess we won't get that.






The drive wasn't bad - we went the South route through KC in order to avoid the bad weather. We drove out of it at KC and then back into some fog, but no icy roads. We got out whilst the gettin' was good. The south route is a couple hours longer, but we were glad we went that way.






We pulled into Denver around 4 and headed to my Aunt Marty and Uncle Bill's townhouse. Sat and chatted with them for a while before our baby girl showed up to hugs all around. She'd been working at Marczyk's the gourmet market where she puts in some 40 hours per week. Cousin Rich came over for a drink - then the Goldsmiths headed out for supper. It was an early night as we were pooped (Pablo didn't sleep for a couple nights ahead of our trip).





We enjoyed chatting with my relatives that a.m. and headed to Marczyk's to meet Amy's bosses and see the cute place she works. We picked up sandwiches there for the road - I rode with Amy in Dave the Honda Fit and Jud and Paul were in the Subaru. Good time for one-on-one convos.





Arrived in Vail around 1PMish. Sister Cindo was prepping for the big partay - each year she and husband Bolder host a huge Christmas Eve party. Paul, Jud, Amy and I were in on it last year since Amy was living here. Checked into the Riverwalk - the Inn we are staying in - nice rooms, basic continental breakfast all for $200/night. Susi, Jim and Jordan arrived later that afternoon. That night, we experienced Beano's Cabin by sno-cat sleigh ride.





It was snowing up a storm that night - good thing we were decked out in parkas and warm clothes. Some Floridians didn't fare as well in their suede coats and stylish boots. The ride up the mountain in an open-topped sleigh took 15 minutes or so - Amy got some good photos. The atmosphere at Beano's is very cool and the food - I had goose appetizer and lamb for my main course. It was Delicious. Memories were made.

Midnight Mass

I haven't been to Midnight Mass for a few years. Father Kenkel, the pastor in Creston (until he retired 1.5 years ago) for the past 10 years was an old guy, and he moved Midnight Mass up to 10 PM. That was fine with me, because it meant we weren't staying up past our normal bedtime.
But it wasn't official-like, cuz it wasn't really midnight.

In my childhood, Midnight Mass at SS Peter and Paul in Atlantic was a packed house. You had to get there by 11:30 PM, in order to get a seat. Even then, you were taking your chances. One year, we took too long packing all of us - Mom, Dad, Susi, Cindy, Betsy and me into Dad's Buick. We ended up in the very back row, behind a fat guy that had some loud gas issues when transitioning from kneeling to sitting and standing - you know how busy we Catholics are in the pews. Wouldn't you know that got the Bullock girls to giggling - that hilarious contagious laughter. I don't remember a thing the priest said, but I do remember that.

Another time it was so crowded, we ended up sitting back behind the altar where they dress and store the vestments. That took away from some of the pageantry. It was a beautiful Mass. Mrs. McCauley (mother of my boyfriend during some of high school, and player at Paul and my wedding mass) played the violin. Nothing like Greensleeves. The colors in church were so beautiful in the nighttime light - remember this was back before I was a frequenter of Saturday night mass.

One year it was really snowy - like it sounds like it will be this year. Dad drove us, and we for some reason we decided to go up Bullock's Hill. That was the big hill in between our house and Fairlawns - the post WWll housing development by our house. It was a short very steep incline - I should know I crashed into the retaining wall at the bottom after a wild ride down it on my trike (no feet on the pedals). I remember the tires of Dad's car spinning and spinning as we slowly inched up the hill. But we made it.

I always was so intrigued when we got home - to see the gifts under the tree. Sometimes Santa had delivered gifts while we were gone - mostly the years Dad stayed home with Betsy. And the Midnight Mass where I was young enough to be allowed to doze through the lengthy service, was a mere memory as my nerves jangled with the thought that present for me were under the tree! (I know it's an awful run-on sentence. But this is my blog Miss Howarth and I'm writing it that way...). I was wired when it was finally time to get in bed. Sleep was a long time coming.

Betsy and I were great at waking up a daylight. We'd go out and check out all the presents under the tree to see which ones were for us. I've talked in past blogs about the cool toys we had. Christmas was an awesome time at our house. Finally, older sisters Susi and Cindy would finally crawl out of bed (teenagers you know) and we'd get to open the gifts. Little did I know the best gift was the family thing - making memories with my sisters.

Christmas Eve

Our family always did the Midnight Mass thing at Christmas time. When I was little, Dad would stay home with Bitsy Betsy (that's what people called her cuz she was such a cute little thing). I on the other hand, daughter #3, would have a little rest after the Christmas Eve festivities and then would have to go out in the cold to church.

Our evening's festivities went like this. Momo and Bubba (my in town grandparents) would come over late afternoon for a few drinks. Then, after they were properly lubricated we would move from the family room into the formal living room where the Christmas Tree was awaiting. We got to open gifts from each other that night. So exciting! Afterwards we dined on chili and for weird people, clam chowder. Momo made her own peanut butter and would bring sandwiches. (I preferred Skippy then, Jif now). One year, Mom dipped her brand new shell necklace (a gift from Dad) into the clam chowder whilst stirring.

So we'd play with our new stuff throughout the evening, and then take a rest before mass. I distinctly remember one year Betsy went to bed, so I laid on Mom's bed reading a book from our large children's home library. Mom and Dad had a 50's bedroom - twin beds just like Rob and Laura Petrie. But theirs were shoved together, mostly.

Dad made sure the bedroom door was shut. But I could hear it - the sounds of rustling. They didn't want to do the Santa thing after Mass, so they put the presents out before we we left. Good thing I my Santa bubble had burst before that! I think it was the next year that I discovered some of our gifts (not yet wrapped) in the furnace room. Of course I couldn't resist showing Betso the stash. Johnny West for me and Jane West for her - with their own ranch and horses. They were awesome!

Sometimes there were arguments at Christmas. Us kids when we were young. Mom and Dad as we got older. Our Christmases weren't perfect. But it was always an exciting time, and make up some of my best childhood memories.

Anniversary, wrapping

It's the anniversary of my first day of work at the Iowa Department of Natural Resources. Yikes! I'm so very glad I'm past that "new kid" stage, though I'm still the newest one in our two sections. A couple people may be hired in the next couple months. Or not. We'll see.

I remember that first day of work - I stayed at a motel the night before, and the nice weather turned to snowy ice. I couldn't find my scraper in the a.m. so I had to stop at the gas station for one. Scraping the half inch of ice took a while.

When I got to work, my boss Al wasn't in yet due to the weather. So Bill Blum showed me to my new home away from home - my cubicle. I putzed around getting things set up. I was very tense all day and all those first few weeks - causing my shoulder to have permanent damage. Resulting in my visits to Dr. Wes and now, the much more relaxing masseuse Chris.

So I'm thankful today. For a job I love and the comfort level of having a year under my belt.

Today, after working at home, I wrapped a couple gifts for my beloved Pablo the Poolboy. I am the worst gift wrapper of all time. I believe it's because of that girly gene I'm lacking, the gene that allows one to do hair, curl eyelashes and yes, wrapping gifts.

My sis Cindo loves to wrap (as our mommy did) and creates lovely packages that are works of art too pretty to open. My wrapped gifts are all crooked cutting, bunched corners and just plain ugly. I don't care to put much effort into it - (just like my hair and eyelashes) so that's part of it. I also have some angst about wasting paper on wrapping. But I did the deed by golly, and got Paul's gifts wrapped. (even did bows - went all out).

Clothes

Above - now that was not a good look for me. I look huge! Nice hair too - one of my growing out phases I guess. Note to self - keep hair short. Don't tuck in shirts. No bobbie socks.

I bought an ugly denim shirt at the Urbandale Goodwill yesterday for our ugly sweater party. I know, a shirt isn't a sweater. But it has this 'lil ugly Santa embroidered on the chest. I couldn't resist.


I tried to think back about all the ugly sweaters I've had through the years. Of course I didn't think they were ugly when I bought 'em. I loved them, had to have 'em. In hindsight, those choices weren't so good. I wonder what I'm wearing right now that will cause me to chuckle in a scant 10 years or so. I admit it - I'm not too stylish. I really mostly just wear clothes so I'm not naked or nothing.



Do you remember certain special (or un-special) outfits through your life? Most of the outfits I remember, are because of photos. But there are some I recall just cuz.



In junior high, I had a nifty knit blue and white knicker (yes, they were HUGE in style that year - okay maybe not huge, but kinda big) outfit. I paired it up with my awesome red, white and blue shoes (I was going for the patriotic look) and a suede red, white and blue peace sign purse. I don't know how the boys could avoid the hotness that was me. For one of our muy importante junior high dances, I wore a baby blue corduroy dress - wide knap (is that the right term?).



I remember several high school important occasion outfits. Like the velvet pants I wore with the body suit ('member those - snap crotches, and if your torso was long you could just stretch and pop the snaps...) turtle neck. Big wide bells.

Do you have any clothes that you just can't make yourself give away or sell at a garage sale? (I myself had exactly one garage sale - after many, many hour preparing I made all of $150. People insulted me by asking if I would take a dime for things marked $.25. I wanted to ask them if they thought I should pay them to take my stuff...). I have a wool plaid shirt that I got when I was in college. My Grandma, Momo bought it for me and it was quite pricey - like $40 way back then. I don't wear it, but can't give it up. I also have my original Adidas Superstars. Prolly worth big bucks! My collection also includes a very ugly Hawaiian shirt, and my old Levis - real antiques.

I have had some great laughs in my life, looking back at photos with dated styles. Glasses, clothes, hair. It's funny how you can wear something and then not that long after wonder what you ever saw in that look. I'm glad I work at a place that allows me to go casual if I so desire. Tomorrow I'm wearing another top I picked up at Goodwill - a sweater that was never worn! All for less than $4. I may have to do more shopping at Goodwill! Recycling works.

Butt Cutters

My dad coined many phrases and words in his life. And his goofy words and phrases that live through me! Butt cutters is one of those terms.

I thought of that term while walking at the YMCA tonight. My underpants were, um creeping. I don't know why, I'd worn them all day with no problem. But they evidently didn't get along with the shorts I'd chosen for the jaunt at the indoor track. Those shorts, were no butt cutters but they did bring to mind Dad's term for tight shorts.

When Amy began to play volleyball, of course both Dad and I called her tight volleyball shorts butt cutters from the very start. Those shorts fit similar to undies. Tight. So Amy grew up thinking buttcutters was the proper term for volleyball shorts. I think she surprised some people (her coach) with her use of our family term!

I'll have to be careful in the future to not wear these undies with those shorts, because there are no discrete corners at the busy Waukee Y to remove said panties from said clunkin. What, you ask is a clunkin? That's our old family term for buttocks.

Why do I live in Iowa?

It's days like today when I wonder just why I live here!?! Cold start after freezing mist, bad roads for my commute. I got up at my usual time and started working on my laptop at 6:30 a.m. Yep, I'm lucky I can do that! I had the news on, keeping my eye on road conditions.

It looked to be icy north, and it was supposed to get worse as the temp dropped. So about 7:30 I bolted. I drove across Highway 34 - the long route here, but it was green on the DOT map - not icy like the north route was. The roads looked wet, possibly slick but I didn't feel like I was sliding.

Unfortunately I got behind a nervous nellie driving 40. Doh! He wouldn't move over when we came to a passing zone. I couldn't help myself and did an over the shoulder bird flip when I finally had a chance to pass him! As I drove north on I35, I began to see a few snowflakes and by the time I was just south of the big city, it was snowing, windy and blowing. Okay, I'm officially tired of winter!

I got to work about 9:30 a.m. - just in time as the roads were really starting to get slick. It seemed like a long cold day at work, as the heat wasn't functioning properly. Did a bit of shopping after work and then headed to Joan's where the driveway was treacherous and icy. I had to be very careful unloading my bags. I parked behind Krissy on the right side, leaving room for Joan to get up the driveway and into the garage on the left side. But wasn't sure her 2 wheel drive Jeep would make it.

Went in to unpack and eat, and sure enough, a half hour or so after I got here, I could hear Joanie spinning in the driveway. Then our lil mild manner Joanie came stomping in through the garage dropping F-bombs and kicking off her boots. She was havin' a bad day, and getting stuck in the driveway didn't help. I quickly finished my food, and Krissy and I headed out to help Joan dig out and chop ice.

Did I mention how slick it was? Sure enough, 'ol clumsy managed to do a Charlie Brown falling on my butt and elbow. Lucky I was pretty well padded. Why me lord, why have I turned into the clumsy sister? And now poor Joan is embarrassed she snapped. I told her she's just human - I'm glad to know I'm not the only flawed character around here.

Caroling

Our house - taken last November.

It's been a few years since I went caroling. The last time was all thanks to real estate. Yeah, that sounds strange, but it's true. You see when we bought this house in 1998, we had to sell our our old house at 201 East Prairie.

We put it on the market in November of '97 and made an offer on our dream house (this one) with a clause in there about selling our house. It was a slow winter and no offers were forthcoming. Then, after the first of the year, someone else wanted to make an offer on this house so we had to piss or get off the pot, to put it bluntly. So we bought this house and owned two. Oh the stress - just ask Amy.

We moved into this house in May of 1998 and got a "bridge loan" on it. It sounds like such a happy term for something that caused so much stress. Interest was compounding daily on this place. Three months went by with no sale. We had to do an extension of our bridge loan - Paul and I snapped at each other and at one point, I slammed out of this new dream home tearing off in our family truckster (white Chrysler van) with the dog. Hyperventilating, I didn't know where to go, so I went to the old house. Cleaning for a bit as I calmed down. Amy (age 13) thought we were divorcing.

We were desperate to sell the place. We tried Paul's sister Carol's advice - burying St. Joseph upside down in the yard of the old place. Except we really put the statue in the compost pile instead of digging the yard. And, I started bargaining with God.

I know - it's true I spend much of my time doubting there is a big guy. Hell I don't know if there is a God, or heaven. Or if we're just toast after we die. Perhaps we are reincarnated - I've seen the soul of a person inside each of my dogs. Bad people deserve to come back as something totally dependent on the kindness of others.

But when times are rough, I admit it. I pull out the Jesus, Joseph and Mary card. I pray to God. This was a tough time. I didn't feel like I could just outright ask for God to sell our house, after all the wishy washy feelings and such. So I made a bargain. I told God that if our house sold, I would teach Religious Education the next year.

That was a pretty big deal, and I felt a good one for God. Wednesday nights for a year, Leslie Goldsmith (sometimes unbeliever) teaching children about Himself. Ironic, huh? So you guessed it, the house sold. Not overnight, no God wouldn't want it to look like it was easy.

But after one deal fell through, shortly thereafter a nice family who actually had $$ bought our house. I won't EVEN tell the raunchy story about lewd hot tub repair man jerking off downstairs while the new family moved in and before we had closed on the house, causing us to wonder if the nice family would back out of the deal. Oh yes, God does have a sense of humor! But they did buy it.

And I called Karen Walters to offer to teach 8 8th grade students from the public school each Wednesday. It was a lot of work. God drives a hard bargain. I had homework putting together lesson plans. We did activities - artsy stuff I'm not good at. We went Christmas caroling! Driving and walking to several areas in town to sing with 8th graders. (They aren't loud singers and were not enthusiastic). Nevertheless, I enjoyed it.

It didn't seem fun at the time, but looking back, both God and I came out ahead on that deal!

Stages

I think back about when the kids were young. It seemed I was always looking ahead to the next stage of their lives. It started right out of the chute. Literally - just after giving birth, I started reading those new mommy publications the hospital staff gave me, describing the different stages in the first few months of birth.

Let me just start out by saying newborn babies are scary! They're so needy and seem fragile. So I would take a bath and read ahead. (The bathtub was my sanctuary in those days. Who am I kidding, it still is! The tub was a place I could shed all the "equipment" post childbirth - nursing bra with breast pads, post childbirth sanitary napkins etc and Paul would be in charge of the babe).

I'd read to see what baby should be like at 1 month. I remember really looking forward to three months when the baby would start being more interactive - smiling. It's a big thing to get used to a new family member! There are lots of stages those first few years - smiling, rolling over, sitting up, adding solid food, and ahh sleeping through the night. That one took Jud a while.

I remember lusting for the time we no longer had to purchase and change diapers. It's funny - just like many things, you don't really know which diaper is your last and you quickly adjust to life without that thing that was so pervasive in your life. We got over the diaper stage very quickly after Jud was potty trained. (I was beginning to think he would go to pre-school in diapers).

When Amy and Jud grew up a little bit - grade school age, there were other stages. First grade brought a full day of school, after half day kindergarten. Why didn't I enjoy my time with those little kids more? The business of everyday life works against us I think.

Our children were never huge snugglers and lap sitters after toddlerhood. But we had our snuggly times. I distinctly remember walking into church with Amy, who at age 10 would still hold my hand. I thought to myself, "enjoy this time, it will be over soon."

Many stages were great while they lasted, but I wasn't sad to see the end. Like high school for the kids - and high school sports. We (mostly) enjoyed them. Hanging with the other parents was fun - especially Jud's group. But it was time to be over.

This time of year, I find myself missing little A&J. The excitement of Christmas and Santa. Amy reading the children's bible - the story of Jesus birth. It was a cheap book I guess, and the print wasn't the best. Amy was surprised to read that Marv gave birth to Jesus! I miss reading to the kids and having them sit on my lap.

For now, I'll enjoy this stage of our lives. Empty nest, young adult children. Life is good.

Wish Book

Remember the Wish Book catalog that used to come in the mail? I couldn't remember if it was Penney's or Sears until I Googled it. I used wait for it each year in anticipation and then pour over that thing before Christmas -drooling over the toys. I loved looking at the stuff I didn't really even expect to ever get - like the chemistry kit. We did get a Creepy Crawler Thingmaker though!

Joan, Krissy and I just spent a couple hours (okay Joan did, K and I were out there more like an hour total) shoveling. And starting and scraping cars. Krissy left her lights on and Joan and she had to jump it. And I chopped ice under the garage door.

The drift at the front door was some 4 foot high and 5 feet wide. That took a while to dig out. Joan jacked up the snow blower again and went at the driveway. I used the shovel to clear around my Subaru - the doors were frozen shut so I had to pop open the hatchback and climb through to the front and open the doors that way. I froze my fingers - they're still a bit sore.

When I came in, Joan was still out shoveling (she's a farm girl and can't help herself). I also saw her snowblowing down Sunrise Drive. She's got a fever she's hot she can't be stopped! (it's a cheer, silly). So I decided to cook supper - I had a couple tortilla crusted tilapia (Fareway) in the freezer. Despite my food Alzheimer's I figured out that a rice/veggie steamer in the freezer was mine too. So I got it ready to zap in the microwave and popped the tilapia into the fry pan with a bit of olive oil. I made the exec decision to brown the rolls that had been sitting on the counter since Thanksgiving.

So Krissy, Joanie and I had a hot meal after our scoopfest. While eating I perused the toy catalog sitting on the table - and that reminded me of my Wish Book" catolog years. I saw recently that Penney's will no longer do a big catalog. Kinda sad, but that makes sense. Who shops that way any more?

That also reminds me - remember the scandal of the underwear model in the Sears Catalog who supposedly had his Johnson showing? It made my friends and I all a twitter. (before anybody even knew what a Twitter message was). I'll miss catalogs - but will still have sale flyers. Something to look at while I eat.

Was there

any better feeling than waking up on a snowy school day, and having Mom tell us "go back to sleep, no school today." Yes!

Tomorrow is like that for me - except for the go back to bed part. I will need to get up, but will work at home (Joan's home anyway). I'm really lucky I can do that. I've got a magic fob (it looks like a keychain, but has a button to push that reveals a code I need to enter) that allows me to get into the Citrix program which opens up the DNR files for me remotely.

It's as if I have a golden ticket - ala Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Remember that movie? My Aunt Jean, a third grade teacher for 30 years in ritzy Cherry Creek near Denver, gave me that book when I was in, well third grade. I took it to school and the teacher read it to the class. I is one of my favorite childhood books - I loved the illustrations.

Charlie finds the golden ticket in his candy bar. The chocolate sounded so delicious. The descriptions of the other characters - Charlies poor family - complete with 4 grandparents in one bed. The other kids who found golden tickets - Augustus Gloop, Veruca Salt, Mike the TV kid, hmm am I missing anyone? And who could forget the oompa loompas and their curious ditties?

Amy and I went to see the new version of the movie with Johnny Depp. But I must say I prefer Gene Wilder. Hope you stay warm and dry tomorrow!

Crappy weather driving

I drove to DM this a.m. after breakfast with the Homegirls. It started snowing last night right when Deb, Bobbie, Pat and I finished up the Christmas Home Tour, benefiting the Rural Iowa Women's Shelter. Before that, Debbie and I attended the "Joyful Noise" Christmas Concert to help get us in the mood. For Christmas...

The concert was very good. My favorite parts were the violin guy and the pianist. A Mom and daughter - the Bevings sang a duet that was quite nice. Hmmm why didn't they ask Amy and me to do one? Haha.

So after this a.m.'s S&K pancake, I went back home to check on the roads on TV. Took off about quarter to 8, and didn't get to work until 9:30 a.m. Took the long way - thru Winterset cuz the ditches are deep going the north. Just the first of many trips to come on less than perfect roads.

Last winter, my first day of work was on a stormy icy one. And the trip home that night was not fun either - my windshield had iced up.

I used to be oblivious when it came to driving in bad weather. Until my sophomore year of college when Vic and I drove back to Ames after spring break. I had a 1977 Chevy Monza - hatchback rear wheel drive with no weight in the back. I was tooling along north of Ankeny - it had been snowing for a while, when I hit black ice - and fishtailed for quite a ways and then ditched it, nearly rolling in the snow filled ditch.

Then Vicki and I watched 4 other cars hit that same icy spot and go in the ditch, 2 after hitting each other. Lucky for me a tow truck came by shortly. That trip in the ditch gave me a healthy (or paranoid) respect for bad weather driving. Pablo and I avoid it when we can. I'm glad I am comfy enough in my job now and can telecommute. Lucky me! Bring it on Old Man Winter.

Marriage

Elizabeth Weil, in her Motherlode column, in the New York Times, says in her December 1 column on marriage,

"I've never believed you just married one day at the altar or the justice of the peace. I believe you become married - truly married - over time through road rage incidents and pre-colonoscopy enemas, and all the large and small moments that you never expected to happen and certainly didn't plan to endure."

True words, those. Some couples today, in my view, spend more time thinking about the wedding day than the marriage. So it should be no surprise when, a few years later the marriage is kaput!

My sis Cindo had a girl in her high school class whom all the class called Veil because her goal was to get married. Nothing beyond that. I don't know if she was successful at that or not.

In college, my friends and I knew a gal named Jolene - we called her "the Big O". No, not because of that. Because she was so organized! Vic and I met Jolene and a nice group of girls our sophomore year. Vic and I wanted to go skiing over spring break, but none of our friends were on board with that plan. We wanted to go with a group.

So we plucked a sign of the 'vator wall in Maple Hall, the dorm where we lived. (that's elevator for you who don't speak 70's college lingo). The sign said girls were looking for people to share a condo for skiing in Breckenridge, CO. Perfect! Vicki called the number on the sign and we met and started making plans - Jolene, Terry, Sherry, Cindy & Deb were 1st floor gals. Jane Ertl also joined the group - not sure where she lived. We lived on 6th so it wasn't a long walk to start planning. The Big O true to her soon to be nickname - yep Vic and I dubbed her "O" had the trip planned down to who brought carrots.

The trip was a start of a long friendship with those ladies. The next year, our junior year, we all ended up living at 230 Campus Ave. - that group lived in the 200's (along with the group containing Pablo whom I met later that fall. The Big 4 (Vic, Jane, Sal, Les) lived in the 400's.

As we got to know Jolene, we realized that she was really at ISU for an MRS. degree. Ha - that is the tired old cliche about someone going to college to find a man. She was studying elementary education, and nope she didn't find Mr. Wonderful in college. I think she scared all the guys away - much like Veil, when she went on date 1 with a guy, she would mentally be picking out her wedding colors and how she'd decorate her bathroom in the fam home.

I'm sad to say I lost track of the Big O. She moved to Colorado and taught kindergarten. I think she ended up getting married. She did organize purchase of wedding gifts for many of our friends in those post college years - lasagna pans. Oh, lasagna was her signature meal - the one she invited Mr. Wonderful over for after date 1, while she was planning the wedding.

I hope you found your dream Jolene. And all you wedding planners out there - plan beyond the table decorations, the DRESS, readings, reception and even the honeymoon.

Paul and I have helped with our church's marriage ministry for the past 17 years or so. (I think we're out now, thanks to the new priest and my letter to the editor supporting gay marriage). We met with couples several times prior to marriage, to go over marriage stuff - financial, problems solving, family, money, parenting. Stuff couples need to talk about.

I'd like to say Pablo and I were totally prepared for marriage 27 years ago when we got hitched. Not so much. But we had gone through a weekend retreat the church required. Relationships change through the years - and I'm fortunate ours has successfully transitioned along through the bumps and peaks - and valleys, of life.

Puttin' up the tree

Mom in front of an early tree - in later years she got her trees from Earl May, who flocked them for us. And us - the early years when we put the tree downstairs at our first house. 'Lil Amy and Jud. Me in my cowboy sweather.

It's a monumental task each year. I don't know why. Does it have something to do with the fact that just after I put up the tree in 1991, Patrick was born and the month plummeted into despair and disbelief? Likely.

Or perhaps I've just turned into someone jaded towards the commercialism of Christmas. No matter what, the cause, both Paul and I are Scrooges when it comes to Christmas and the associated pageantry. The lights (his job) and the tree (my job after he brings it up from the basement - talked him into a fake one a couple years ago).

But once I get going - opening up the ornament boxes, pulling out the ornaments, I get in the spirit. It's a walk down memory lane. Starting with the ornaments that used to be on our tree when I was growing up. And the little decorations mom would put around with "angel hair". That fiberglass stuff that's now probably banned from existence due to health hazards.

We had a gingerbread house that she would get out each year. It looked so scrumptious to my little eyes. My God, it was probably stale as hell, but it represented the fantasy of Christmas to me.

The crystal ornaments I got when in Scandinavia with Mom in 1983 - the she bought over there are now mine too. Then we have the ornaments we've gotten since the kids were born. "Baby's first Christmas" We got a lot of those for Amy since she was born in October. Jud - January- none. The ornaments they made in school - some out of Popsicle sticks with their little pre-school pics in them. The Patrick ornaments - we got a beautiful hand-painted angel from the tree at Methodist when Patrick was there.

So it's a labor of love? of tradition? hmmm not sure. But still, even though we won't even be here most of Christmas week, and there won't be many gifts this year - we're going to Vail for Christmas and fingers crossed, to a bowl game after that, as God (and Odie) are my witness, the tree will go up.

Big Chill

It is the first cold week of the season. The kind of weather that gives me perma-chill feet. Damn bad circulation. Bless the inventor of the electric blanket/bed pad. Fleece and smart wool socks. Hot hands. Heated tile floors.

When I was a kid, I must have had excellent circulation. I remember many hours spent out in the snow and cold - with inferior snowy/cold weather products! We had rubber snow boots that our shoes fit inside. They were very hard to get on, and then you had to fold the rubber top over and slip the little button into the rubber band holder. Our mittens were wool, and got soggy.

We had 3 sleds with metal runners. Flexible Flyer. You could lay on your stomach and steer with your hands - sometimes we even went double decker, stacking on top of each other. Or you could sit up and steer with your feet or with the rope attached to the front/steering apparatus.

We also had a long aluminum toboggan with a green pad on top (otherwise you'd bruise your buns). We'd pile people on that baby too! The only way to steer it was to lean. Not easily done.

There were a number of good sledding hills in Atown. First of all, before we built the deck on our house, the hill out back was a pretty good one! A few times we even slid down it on cardboard when we were little. Steep! But when sledding you had to watch out for the row of bushes along the right side. They were not fun to run into!

The hill by Washington Elementary (that I had to walk across in a skirt to get to the high school, before I got wheels) was awesome! It was a big kid hill, with Buck Creek at the bottom so you had put the brakes on before that. I also had to watch out for Rick (hmmm blanking on the last name) who asked me to go sledding when I was a freshman. He had some other warm up activities in mind. Scary, exciting stuff for a naive frosh. Good thing I had all those layers on!

The Country Club was also the scene of some great sledding parties. We would toss the sleds and saucers (you COULD lose your virginity on those metal saucers and a good snow bump I swear...). Kids would build a "jump" to go over. Each year we hear of sledding tragedies - I'm not always sure how I survived!

Sledding was something Paul and I were able to share with our children when they were growing up. We lived by "Bus Barn Hill" when they were small. Their sleds were a little safer than ours - the saucer was plastic. We had some blow up inner tube type sleds - softer and more fun than metal. Moki the wonder dog liked to run along side and nip at sleds-he popped a couple. Oh well, they were fun while they lasted.

Now that I'm a big girl, snow isn't usually something fun to play in. It's something I dread driving in! And my feet are chilly as I write. Here's to a safe commuting winter, but some beautiful weekend snowfalls. And good snow in the mountains (not on I-70)for Amy and Cindo!

Dear Diary

Did you ever have a diary? I did - waaaay back. I think I received it as a birthday gift around 6th grade. I recall it being pink with a little key, that I must not have kept in a safe place, because my sis Betso told me she read it one time.

Argh all my deep dark secrets. (Kind of like this blog) The most posts in my diary from my early teen angst years. Those times of self-loathing. I would rather be 52 than 13! That was rough. I went from being a cool (in my own mind) athletic 12 year old to someone with starter boobs and monthly menses.

I was dragged kicking and screaming into puberty. (quiet kicking and screaming, for the most part in my room to myself because I couldn't talk to anyone about it) My mom wasn't the hold hands sing kumbaya and talk about our feelings with our period kinda gal. She took me to the "movie" we girls had in 5th grade - to learn about periods. None of it made sense to me - why would that happen?

And the emotions and moods that went with that monthly cycle. I wanted nothing to do with pads and tampons. I spent junior high perfecting silent opening of plastic tampon packages in the restroom at school. Heart pounding stress! Especially if the "hoods" (that's you tammy ross and angie ostrander) were in the bathroom smoking.

No diary for me now. Just this Blog. And you have the key...

Shirt Sleeve weather

Sarah with Baby David taken last summer - bet they've both grown!

December 1 and it's shirt sleeve weather. Love it! It's my niece Sarah's bday - she's 14. So glad my prissy sis Betso and her husband Wayne had a girl. They had three boys prior to Sarah's birth. Twins Paul and Alex (one of them was supposed to be female - they found out just before they were born that they were both boys). Then Eric was born when the twins were 3. Betso Bean loves her boys dearly but she was still hoping for a girl someday. Then on December 1, 1995 Sarah was born.

When Betsy was born, all I had wished for was a baby brother, so I could play with his boy toys. But no, I had a girly girl sis. She loved playing dolls. Her favorite toy was a giant Barbie head - you could do her makeup and hair. (Perhaps I should have dabbled with it a little - then I would actually know how to do makeup now...). "Barbie's Head is Nice and Big the TV commercial said."

After Sarah was born, just for fun B&W popped out one more baby boy, David. He was born the year our Mom died. Betso was 6 months pregnant when we all rushed to Atlantic to be by Mom's side as she succumbed to lung cancer. That baby bump was something for us to look forward to - a new life to come after Mom's death.

But oh how Betsy loves having a girl - to do girl stuff with. I must admit, that even though I'm still a tomboy at heart, I also love having a daughter! (see the blog from a couple weeks ago about the cardinal and testosterone poisoning..) It's fun to have somebody to shop with and to talk about something other than sports.

Tomorrow is a big day. It's the birthday of our baby boy, Patrick George, born 12/2/91 died 12/8/91. He'd be 18 and a senior in high school! What would he be like? Athletic, smart, musical, quiet, outgoing?

It seems so long ago when we were a part of his short life. He was born with a congenital heart defect - hypoplastic left ventricle. Going through the joy of childbirth and then the tough few days after he crashed and was diagnosed was the toughest time in my life. In many ways it made me the person I am today.

I wouldn't wish the death of a child on anyone, but I wouldn't wish Patrick away to avoid the pain. The first few weeks and months after he died, we were so fortunate to have a friend in Fr. Howard Fitzgerald to walk us through grieving. He truly was a blessing.

It was the early 90's and there was no laptop and no Internet. I had to read books about others who had lost children in order to absorb the experience, to understand it. I learned that men and women deal with grief differently. Often marriages don't survive the loss of a child. It was hard, but we persevered.

Now I have strength stemming from that little guy. And perspective. And empathy. Before Patrick, nothing really bad had ever happened to me before. That experience opened my eyes to to sorrow of loss, and the beauty of the support of family and friends.

Happy Birthday Patrick - we love you always!

My roomie

It's Joanie's bday today! Went went to Chicago Speakeasy on Euclid to celebrate, since her husband Billy is working and couldn't get up here from Diagonal. He did send roses though. Our lil buddy Krissy (Joan's niece, Amy's classmate and friend) is here working and went with us. It was a nice little non-chain restaurant.

My fave part was the great salad bar! I know - hard to believe. I'm usually a lazy salad eater - would rather have the restaurant prepare and deliver the greenery to me. But CS had corn relish, both kinds of olives, pea salad and more! Worth getting my butt out of the booth and getting.

Back to the bday girl. She is such a sweetheart!

I met Joan back in 1990 when we went skiing with her and her fiance Kevin, Bobbie and Jeff (Joan's bro), Denis and Mendy and Moose and Kay. We stayed at a condo in Silverthorne and skied the Summit. Kevin had battled colon cancer but was in remission. We enjoyed meeting those two, and were sad to find out a few months later that Kevin's cancer had reoccurred. He passed way the next year. I remember attending a memory walk in his honor at Drake Stadium - he had a huge family and many friends - it was a great honor and showed just what kind of guy he was that so many loved him.

Joan struggled through - living in the home they had shared. Going on because she didn't have a choice. She eventually took a promotion with FedEx her employer in Kansas City. A change of venue! Paul helped her move - she's got a hell of a lot of stuff as I can attest to.

When Joan was just out of high school she briefly dated Billy Bentley - and while she lived in KC, Billy moved back to Iowa from California and they began to see each other again. Joan moved back to Iowa 5ish years ago, and 3 years ago Joan and Billy got married. They bought property in St. Charles - thinking of living half way in between their two jobs (he trucks in Diagonal). But so far they continue to utilize the "visitation" method of marriage - hey that sounds familiar!

Joan is kind and giving. She is nearly always cheerful and is a very hard worker. And she puts up with me! That's the best part. When I considered my options for life in the big city, I checked out furnished apartments for something like $500/month. A couple months after I moved in with Joanie (she balked at accepting any rent at all from me, but I insisted...still ...$150/month?!?) I saw that police arrested people in a prostitution ring at one of the apartments I had considered. Cooties! Glad I don't live in the Ho House!

Gsmith

George and Laura with lil Juddy - don't know where the 49ers stuff came from ...

Carol - far right with Ken's wife Mary middle and Paul's sis Jean left.

There are Goldschmidts buried in the Earlville (pronounced Irville by locals) Cemetery. That's what the Goldsmiths were named back when they came to this country - good German stock. Then WW1 happened, and it wasn't popular to be German. Wieners became hot dogs, and many things German were Americanized.

So Goldschmidt became Goldsmith. Not Jewish Goldsmith - evidently there are a lot of Jewish folks with that name. So I was introduced at my cousin's wedding in San Francisco as Leslie Goldsmith "not Jewish". I guess that was important since David and Lisa were married at a beautiful Catholic Church.

Anyways back to the Goldsmiths. You can't swing a cat in Delaware County without hitting a Goldsmith. Most are Paul's immediate relatives. Paul's dad George had 11 brothers and sisters. His mom Laura Nefzger Goldsmith had four? Paul has 2 sets of double cousins - George's sister and brother married Laura's brother and sister. Jim and Bertha had 9 kids just like Geo and Laura. Double cousins! Paul's fam isn't super close to the cousins - guess we have enough to keep track of with the immediate fam!

We (Jud, Odie, Paul and I) traveled to Earlville Friday for the traditional fam get-together. We used to do this at George and Laura's home - in the basement. But they got up there in years and in 2000 they moved into an assisted living facility in Manchester. So we started renting the Eville mealsite. It's worked out pretty well. We have lots of goodies and this year went with sloppy joes.

Moki the Wonder Dog used to always go. Everyone loved him and viceversa. So much so that now Dorie has had 3 Westies. Odie got to go this year - I was nervous having her around little kids and other pets but she was great around them. So was Jud - at least he left them alone...

Who attended? All the sibs made it, except Connie of course - Paul's sister, next oldest from him, who passed away in 2007 after battling breast cancer for years. Connie never married, and was so good to all the 23 nieces and nephews - passing on her 401k to them.

Carol - the Matriarch. Carol is 18 years older than Paul - on her way out the door when Paul was born. Off to nursing school. She met Irvin "Hap" Meyer when she was a nurse in Dubuque and their first child, Joseph was born with water on the brain and lived only a few days. The church ladies whisked in and removed all vestiges of baby - what they did back then, pretending it never happened. When our Patrick was born and died in 1991, Carol went through grieving with us - the grief she'd never been allowed back then. She had son Tom a year after Joseph, then Terry and daughter Barb who just turned 40.

Irv got early onset Alzheimer's - fading away before he was even 50, in a nursing home for a few years so Carol was a widow of a living man. And so young! He died suddenly - in the mid 90's. Carol had been trying to get on with her life. She completed her BSN at Dubuque University - we attended her graduation. Her kids grew up and are all married and successful.

Carol began to bike, and went on RAGBRAI with Paul's sis Jean, hubby Dave, Paul and (no not me...I don't do biking in crowds) Steve our buddy here. A doc Carol worked with in Dubuque set up an overnight during the route in Northwood, Iowa at his widowed father's place. True love bloomed in short order and Carol married Bud Kragenbrink in 1996? Not sure on that year. She sold the farm and moved to Northwood. She and Bud bought a 2nd home in Park Rapids, MN on a lake. Bud's 5 kids and Carol's 3 got along great!

Bud and Carol lived happily for some 10 years - he was a wonderful, kind man who owned a construction firm. Since he was getting up there - early 70's he talked to trying to sell the biz, but it never happened. Bud and Carol started building their dream condo in Northwood. Then, just after Christmas in 2006, I was home after Dad died, before the funeral. A little confused on the timing - it was a busy exhausted time. I got out of the shower, I was home from Atlantic to get clothes for the funeral. Paul told me he'd just gotten a call - Bud and dropped dead during the night. Heart. How much can one woman take? Paul left for Bud's funeral right after Dad's.

Carol found out - after the funeral, the creditors swept in, informing Carol that Bud was swimming in debt. They had kept their money separate, but lived in fine style. Much to Carol's surprise it was all a shell game - Bud had paid for one job with the next and owed on everything. The bank was okay with it as long as he was still in business. The stress must have taken its toll on him. Bud's kids and Carol's kids were very supportive and with their help, she has gotten through it. One tough cookie!

Carol let the dream condo go, and eventually sold the Northwood place (relief). She lives way up north in the Park Rapids home all by herself. She winters in Northwood, house sitting for some friends who really go south for the winter. Jud and Paul visited her this summer - fishing and boating - had a great time.

Carol is a strong person - fun to be around and interesting. I admire her strength and perseverance. I like to hear her stories of growing up Goldsmith - so different from baby Paul's version. They're all pretty close-mouthed about their childhood, unlike my sissies and myself. Stoic Germans. She is the glue of the family. Love you Carol.

Thankful for

I'm thankful for many things in my life. Thought I'd list a few here:

• My immediate family - starting with my life partner (and current Packer-watching) Pablo, and our children Amy, Judson and Patrick
• My sisters:
• Susan, funny & smart, someone I've always looked up to - she got her masters degree in Environmental Mgt. We tease her that now she's the matriarch of our family. Susi went away to college when I was 11. I missed her a lot. Her family - Jim and their kids David, Leslie and Jordy.
• Cynthia, cool, someone people want to be around. Hard worker, and goofy like Dad. Cindy was my tormenter growing up, but we've become great friends - sharing our spring break in Florida for the past 10 years. Smart too -hey seems to be a theme with the Bullock gals. Hubby Bolder (Brian) and son Colby the chef.
• Elizabeth, organized, smart and efficient. A great mother and Longaberger genius. Great sense of humor. Betso and I spent the most time together growing up. She was kind of a wiener then, but she's a mamma tiger now. Husband Dr. Wayne, kids Alex, Paul, Eric, Sarah and Baby David (he's 12 but will always be Baby David to our fam).
• My sweet Aunties Marty and Jean and their fams.
• My In-Laws - George and Laura passed away nearly 10 years ago now, but they left a fantastic legacy in their children who are all wonderful people. And they all married wonderful people. (like Pablo for example). Their children are all great too! The oldest Tom is only 6 years or so younger than Paul who is the baby of the fam (out of 9 kids). Amazing group - CPAs, an attorney, a couple physical therapists, salespeople - all seem to be wonderful parents to an increasing number of their own children. Great role models for our children.
• My friends - hmm where to start? At the beginning -Robbie Dob, my oldest friend. Sal - her folks were like an aunt and uncle to me and college friend and roomie, Christie D, Mona, all my other homies - Julia, Pammy, Chris W, Candice, Paula, Sandy - and more. We had a great high school class ('76 rules!). Roger and Todd. Those girls from the class ahead of ours were a fun bunch too.
• On to college where I hung out with people who helped shape my adult life - first of all Vicki. What a great person to meet the first day of college! Jane - another true blue friend. Those two along with Sal and myself made up The Big 4. Moose and Steve - my first guy buddies. Jane Ertl. Pablo's friends who became mine - Mike and Tom. Schneid. Brad. Bobby Fitz. And though I didn't know her well in college, one of my good friends Kay (Moose's wife). Nothing like old friends - you can pick up right where you left off, and no use pretending you're someone you're not. They already know your warts.
• Post college - people I've met through jobs and Paul's co-workers. Karla from Fox River who found me on Facebook. My Gits buds - CW, the twins and Jeanne, My trash friends - Christine, my 'lil buddy (cuz she's only 34), Susan, Pam and Barb - been hanging with those pretty ladies for the past 12 years. And now my new work buddies - Becky, Jim, Angie and heck yeah, even my boss Al. Kevin and Kim.
• My homies - my besties - Deb and Bobbie. Dee, Sharon and the workout/breakfast gang Susan, Pat, Lucy, Linda, Nanc, Patti. I rely on these women in joy and in sadness. And I'll be there for them too. My roomie Joanie - I always knew she was nice, but living with her I realize how selfless she is. Our tailgating, lake going buddies - McKims, McFees, Higgins, Conovers. Mary F. Other assorted buddies like Alt L&P.
• My book club - besides Deb, all these ladies were met through a mutual love of reading. I've enjoyed this group a great deal.
• Other friends I'm not thinking of right now - like a star accepting an Oscar, I'm blanking on all the important people.
• My health care providers - Dr. Wilcox (my doc growing up - used to come to our house and give me a shot in my butt - after taking my temp there) Dr. Hoyt, Sheryl, Dr. Buck, Donnie who puts up with my biffed up left eye.
• The great pets I've been blessed to know. My Juddy doggy bro. Frosty and Jack my horses. Bucko evil kitty. Moki best dog evah. Samantha - "kitty". Odie lover of full grown people (she doesn't like kids).
• My house - we moved here in 1998. I love our view, the neighborhood and the fact that I can live life upstairs. I don't like basements.
• My job - a perfect fit for me. Doing what I love - feeling like I can make a difference. Getting paid decent and treated even better.
• Little things like my laptop and my car.
• My adult relationship with my kids. It's so fun to see our children grow up (yeah Patrick gypped us) and to get to know the people they've grown into. Can't wait to see what's next for them.
• You readers. Though I'd do this blog without outside input, I value your eyes and input.
• My Higher Power. I'm not quite sure what that means - still searching for a meaning in life. But this I know - there is something beyond this life of mine. Otherwise there would be no point. Nature is so beautiful. People can be so kind to others, and so brave. That comes from beyond humans - beyond this Earth. So thanks to you higher power, for all the great things in my life.

Thanksgiving memories

Dad with Marty left and Jeanie right grew up at 909 Poplar in Atown.







Above - the living room at Momo and Bubba's.
Left to right - Momo, Mom, Dad with Cindy, Bub, Susi with our doggy bro Jud and me on my other Grandma's lap (we called her Gramma) My other gramps Pops must have been behind the lense.


I love Thanksgiving! It's a great holiday, sans much of the hoopla of Christmas. And turkey tastes so good with all the fixins.

When I was a child, I was mostly oblivious to all that went into Thanksgiving dinner. When my grandparents (Dad's parents, Wally and Zora Bullock - we called 'em Bubba and Momo) were still in good health and living in their home at 909 Poplar in Atlantic, we went to their house for Thanksgiving. It was the house my dad and his sisters grew up in.

It was a grand old two story house complete with a dank, dark basement and an attic with creaky stairs and insulation showing between the rafters. My sisters told me not to step on that stuff, because I would sink into oblivion. And I believed 'em! We usually entered the house from the alley - parking behind their detached single car garage, going up the walk to the porch and in through the large kitchen. Beyond the kitchen was the formal dining area which contained a beautiful table that sat 12 or so easily.

From the dining area, you passed through the formal entry area from the large front porch (complete with wooden swing). That room went on into the combination living/family room. To the left - the front of the house, were Momo and Bub's chairs and the center of their universe (by that time they were getting up there in years), the color console television. Bubba's pipe collection and tobacco sat by his chair. I loved to smell the stuff. Momo always had her Salem cigs by her side.

On the other end of the room sat Momo's upright piano. In between there was a gorgeous wood burning fireplace and a floral print couch. Momo's prized mirror (she never would tell anyone what it set her back) was in the room too. I hear Momo could play any song by ear, but I don't remember her playing the piano. There were built in book shelves that contained Momo's cruet collection. Connecting the living room and the kitchen was a long bathroom - stool, sink and a large bathtub.

The door to the dark basement was in that room. On the wall, in the plaster in the stairwell were my handprint belonging to Dad and his sisters Martha and Jean. The basement included the washer and dryer, and huge hold stove and the room where the coal was kept before gas heat was installed. There was a little area where we were sent to play - there were a few toys down there. But we never stayed long. It was cold and dark.

Inside the front entrance sat my favorite item - a pine chest of drawers that contained the toys and games. There was some type of board game - Speed Racer? Can't quite remember. It was old. There was a suede bag of marbles in there too. And tiddly winks. Remember that game? We used Momo's wrought iron corn muffin tin to "wink" into. I grew up thinking that was part of the game, until I was older and figured out those corn shaped things were for baking.

Stairs in the entry way lead up to the four bedrooms and bath. Bub had the largest room, and by then Momo slept in her own room. Bubba did oil painting and one bedroom kept his easel and paints, along with paintings in various stages. The forth bedroom was where we stayed when we overnighted with them. (it was a good jumping bed too).

In the middle of all those bedrooms was the door that led to the attic, up creaky wooden stairs. It contained various treasures including my aunties prom dresses. Along the steps there was a built in bookshelf where I found many beloved books - Happy Hollisters, Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew and more left behind by Dad and his sisters. I still have a few of those books.

Thanksgiving memories in that house are many and rich. Besides my immediate fam and M & B, various others attended through the years. Bubba's brother Max (un PC nicknamed Nig thanks to his dark skin tone and no I didn't get none of that...) and his wife Mary Lou, Hazel Marshall - Momo's bestie to name a few. Momo was a fab entertainer, and had a very quick wit. After we played and the adults had drinks (we always have been an evening eating bunch - no "dinner" turkey for us), it was time to eat. The table was gorgeous - complete with special china and a crystal turkey shaped cranberry dish. Black olives were featured on the relish tray - and they always made their way onto our finger tips.

A card table was set up for turkey carving next to the table. One year it collapsed, dropping the turkey to the floor. Momo whipped it out to the kitchen in a flash and brushed it off. Before we knew it she returned saying "good thing I had that back up turkey in the kitchen!" Many of us like dark meat so she would get 2 extra legs. And after we eat, dad would lay on the floor moaning saying he'd eaten too much. And I can never pass a time eating turkey when I don't think and say his fave phrase "Sherky toot in Kenver Dolorado" which came from an old joke about a drunk.

The best thing about my memories of Thanksgivings past at my grandparents is that I was too young to remember any unpleasantness. Or I've blocked it out. I'm sure there were harsh words at times, fighting and crabbiness (and that doesn't include sibling spats - that's just the grownups) dry turkey and too much alcohol. But not in my memory. I love Thanksgiving.

On the Job

Above - the Wallace Building. I work on 5th floor

I've been on the job now for nearly a year. I know - hard to believe huh? It was the first week in December last year that I interviewed for my job at IDNR. While finishing up a grant-funded project for Prairie Solid Waste, I'd been lobbying for a job at DNR for several months.

Last year wasn't the first time I applied at DNR. I had decided by 2006 that I was no longer happy with what was once my dream job. While I still enjoyed many of the things I did, the politics of the transition from landfill to transfer station did me in. Neither did I like the operations part of running a landfill. Life is too short to hate your job!

So in December 2006, I applied for a job at DNR and even had an interview lined up. Then Dad and Kay (his lady friend) came home for Christmas. Dad became ill - they thought it was the flu, and he was hospitalized. On Christmas Day I got a panicked call from Kay saying Dad had taken a turn for the worse - by the time I got to Atlantic he was being rushed to an Omaha hospital.

Dad was really sick, but the docs weren't quite sure what was wrong. He was comatose. Kay and I stayed the night at Methodist. It was bleak. I called for the troops - Cindo hopped in the car and drove all day Christmas Day, staying overnight somewhere in Nebraska - truck stop food for her supper. Susi and Betsy flew in the next couple days.

My interview had been set up for that week, but I couldn't deal with it. So I called and withdrew my application at DNR. Dad had emergency surgery - they discovered part of his colon had died and it was poisoning the rest of him. He made it through the surgery but never came out of it. His kidneys shut down. My sisters and I made the decision to turn off life support, and just like when Mom died he waited until I was gone to quit breathing. My parents always did try to protect me.

Living through Dad's death reminded me that life is short. I did not want to waste more time being miserable at work. I told my board of directors at Prairie that I was quitting. I wanted to give them plenty of time to find a director. In April we found out that a USDA grant I had worked on was funded - which would allow me to do all the things I liked at my job for 12 months starting October 1, 2007. Yahoo. Boy that year went fast - but I was ready to be totally done at Prairie by then. I spent 12 years of my life there and it was time to walk away and let someone else take over. I was busy as executor of Dad's estate (that was a tough job - thank goodness the Poolboy helped).

So by the summer of 2008, I was starting to think about my next act. I'd heard rumors that DNR was looking at a new initiative - Environmental Management Systems. I wanted to be a part of that. I began to lobby a couple of the supervisors at DNR - "keep me in mind when you have an opening." In early October I ran into Brian, our Bureau Chief at the Fall Conference. He hit me up about a new position. I was thrilled he thought of me (even though that's what I'd been aiming for).

I got my application all ready and when the opening was posted, I was all over it! I interviewed for the job on a Wednesday. I nailed it. I felt really good about how I answered all the questions and got good vibes from the interview team. I was thrilled the next day when Al (now my boss) called to say I was the top candidate - he and Alex wanted to talk with me again just to firm things up. I met them for lunch that Friday. I started a couple weeks later on December 19th.

It's hard working in a town 65 miles from from home and my beloved. But I love what I do!

A bit about a few things

A book I read recently had a very important suggestion. I've followed it all these years, but for you single girls and boys out there - there's still time to heed this advice.

"Never boink (a nice word for the real word the author used) someone who has more problems than you do." I know, I like to swear and use the F word freely. So why so shy about using it here? I'm not sure. It just doesn't seem right. I guess I like using the F word as a swear word, not as a verb.

I had issues with a "road rager" this a.m. on my way here from Crestonia. I left Creston around 6:15 a.m. and hit I-80 at a pretty busy time. There was a couple semis in the right lane, somewhere around the Adel exit. An SUV was blocking things up in the left lane - not moving much faster than the semis. But we were coming up to an on-ramp and I saw cars wanting to get on the Interstate. I checked my mirrors and saw a car in the left lane, but there was room to scoot in between that car and the one ahead of it - a couple car lengths.

So I put on my blinker and smoothly changed lanes, enraging the car behind me. Well not the car so much as the driver who I never did get a look at. He/she (I'm thinking guy) got right up on my tail and flashed his lights. Wow buddy - not that big a deal. When I was able to clear the semis and move over into the right lane, the guy flashed his lights again, pulled up next to me, swerving towards my lane and then gunned it. Fucker! There I said it - not a verb. Adjective.

Baby girl Amy (okay she's 24 but she'll always be my baby girl) called me this afternoon, on her way walking home from work. She works at Marczyk's - a gourmet market in Denver. I've not been there yet, but it sounds like a cool place. They sell upscale stuff - wines, free range meats, and it seems rare things. Ame sold a truffle mushroom yesterday for something like $484. Yikes! Wonder if that's going on a pizza pie? Not likely.

I made my inaugural visit to the Waukee YMCA tonight. It's a rockin' place. The suspended track circles 2 gyms. Tonight little guys (3/4/5 year olders) were in karate class. It was too cute - there must have been 25 of 'em. It's a beautiful facility and I look forward to going there often.

Catechism

It was my blog about cartoons that got me thinking church thoughts. Why? Because God Damn (I can swear and just confess it it goes away after a few prayers...) Catechism kept me from watching cartoons through sixth grade!

Atlantic does not have parochial schools. So all the fish-eater children had to attend Saturday morning Catechism to learn about our faith. It was unholy torture I tell ya!

I'm not quite sure about the timing. I recall several nuns - Sr. Therese, Sr. Janice, but no real faces or stories. For a while, we had to attend religion classes in old houses around the church. The church had purchased them for a future education center. We also spent some time at the 4-H building with classrooms fashioned from movable walls. Loud! The new center was finished when I was in junior high. It was and still is a very nice facility - big gym, classrooms, kitchen.

I believe Catechism went from 9 a.m. to 11 a.m. So I missed out on Johnny Quest, Spider Man, Super Man, Mighty Mouse - all those action hero cartoons of the 60's. We usually carpooled with the Reinertson family from next door. Their kids were stair-stepped with our family.

Bonnie R. was oldest - 1 year older than my sis Susan.
Then they had a token boy Donnie - we had no match unless you include our doggy bro Jud.
My sis Cindy was next (she blew off Wednesday night religion one time and got busted)
followed by Kathryn R. one year younger
then came Laurie R. my buddy and best friend until age 9 or so.
me
Betso Bean Bullock
and finally Annie R.

I don't know how we all fit in one car - no seatbelts necessary of course. This makes me chuckle. Reinertsons had a maroon Buick or some such car. After Catechism one Saturday a.m. we saw it parked outside the new Ed facility, so we got in, waiting for Rosemarie R. to come out and drive us home. But then she drove up in the maroon Buick. We had been sitting in Monsignor Kane's car of the same color make and model! Jesus!

That old time religion

I grew up a little Catholic girl. Though looking back, Mom was just going through the motions. I don't remember her ever praying or even talking about God. She just made sure the little Bullock girls went to to church and got all those necessary sacraments.

Dad wasn't Catholic. He was Country Clubian - playing golf at Atlantic Golf and Country Club in the warm months and playing pitch in the bar of the Club when it was cold. It was very exciting for me when it (by it I do mean my father - we called him it for fun. Not really but I'm covering up a typo) did go to church on the rare occasion - usually midnight mass, once Betso was old enough to attend along with the rest of the gang.

My first memories of church are pre Vatican II. Kneeling on the rough wooden kneelers at the beautiful St. Peter and Paul church in Atlantic. My knees would get all bumpy and sore. Back then, we had to wear hats or doilies on our heads in church, the priest faced the altar saying mass and there was a wooden railing between the altar and the people. During communion, people would go up and kneel by the railing and the priest would walk along and give each one the holy Eucharist.

Mass seemed to go on forever back then! I would cringe when the priest would pick the longest option for the middle part of the mass. So I would begin to daydream. Our church had an elaborate altar - very tall and ornate. It had little openings like doors and windows, and places for statues. It was gilded. In my mind, little gnomes lived there, climbing to and fro to visit friends, gather food and water (holy of course). Ah what an imagination - or what ADD take your pick!

I think back about all the kids in my grade that attended the Catholic Church. I wonder how many of them go there now. Less than a third I'm betting. Maybe less than a tenth. Would I be Catholic now if I'd not married Paul Goldsmith? Hmmm I'm thinking no, but I'm not sure I'd have gone for another religion. Probably would just have dropped out, like my sis Cindo - who remains a very spiritual person, just not a church-goer.

For now, I'll continue to attend. It makes Pablo happy. And it is a ritual to me that I'm not totally ready to give up. The physical place - Holy Spirit is homey. I like being surrounded by people I have come to recognize, know and like through these past 23 years. The Mass - again the ritual is calming. We Catholics aren't known for kick ass music, but again I enjoy singing hymns and trying to harmonize when I was never really an Alto (thanks a lot Delma Wright of AHS for stifling my musical ego). During Mass I don't imagine little elves living in the altar, but it is a good time to reflect on my week and my actions.