Halloweens of my childhood

Back the the day, at Washington Elementary, Halloween meant going home for lunch and dressing up in my chosen costume. Pat Bullock had a sewing machine, but the only things I remember her ever sewing was two costumes - a clown and a black cat with a long black tail.

I'm sure I was each of those two things sometime through the years. In sixth grade Paula Bacon and I dressed in my dad's Korean War uniforms, complete with boots. But I don't really recall many of my costumes. I think we often went the purchased costume with plastic mask and a rubber band to hold it on. After we'd walk back to school on Halloween Day, we'd await the younger classes to start the parade through each classroom, ending up in the gymnasium where parents were in the audience. It was quite exciting.

Then in the evening, we'd begin our trek around the neighborhood with brown paper grocery sack clutched in hand. We'd walk door to door, block to block, coming home with several pounds of candy. And oh we knew where the good stuff was. The Crabtrees always gave out quarters and popcorn balls.

Even back when I was young, people started doing evil things to candy to injure kids. Is there anything creepier? But hell, we considered our whole side of town our neighbors. Few people left their porch lights off. The "old folks" (they were probaby 52 years old..) seemed to be so tickled at seeing each costume.

One year tragedy struck Atlantic on Halloween. One of the Hackwell children was struck by a car and killed crossing the street in the dark. The Hackwells were a notorious family in town. They had lots of children and lived on the edge of town in a rickety farmhouse by the cemetery. Glen was in our class. While I didn't realize why at the time, we shunned Glen throughout grade school.

Today I realize it was a social class thing, but back then I just thought (as everyone in class said) Glen Hackwell had cooties and germs. We'd inoculate ourselves from the germs if he touched us. Poor kid. I feel bad about it today. I recall Glen attended our 20th class reunion, bringing his grandchild along. He was a trucker, and was featured in a news story for moving a home from outside of town into town.

As with everything, it seems, Halloween today is much more commercialized and flashy. I still like it, but a little part of me longs for the days when kids swarmed the streets wrangling sweets from willing townfolk.

This is one of my fave pics of my kids at Halloween.

Online dating

Not me, of course. I'm blessed that I found my soulmate at age 20. Though I didn't realize it until the ripe 'ol age of 23 or so...Pablo the Poolboy is the model everyone is looking for in a mate. Everyone who is me, anyway. Perfect, but not too, cuz that would be boring! And most importantly, he puts up with me.

But I have considered...what would it be like to be single and (gulp) 52? Some of my very best friends are single. I know they each know that nobody needs someone else to "complete" them. Just like no couple has a "better half". But it is nice to have somebody you can count on. Someone to do things with and to tell about your day.

Some of my single friends would still like to meet that person. Maybe not the love of their lives, but someone to have fun with. It's not easy to meet people in our busy world. So those single ladies have tried on-line dating services - such as EHarmony, Match.com and some other ones less known.

They've kept me filled in on their experiences. Person A has had a couple long term dating relationships with guys she met online.

Person B (we'll call her R.Dob) decided to take advantage of a "Free" month on one of the online services. She got all signed up and took hints from her friends who were veterans of online dating. She started slowly, waiting for guys to "wink" at her online. Then they began emailing each other and graduated to talking on the phone. Once it was time to meet Rob, I mean Person B, met this guy at a restaurant she was familiar with. The opened wiht smalltalk and ordered drinks and appetizers. After the waitress left (this was January) the first thing out of the guy's mouth was, "What do you think about that Jigaboo we elected as president?"

RACIST ALERT! Person B said, thinking he was joking around, "What did you say?" and he repeated it. My buddy, being the open-minded and intelligent person that she is, called him on it. She said you're a liar - "you misrepresented yourself as a good guy, but you're a racist!" She threw down $10 and left him in her dust. She had a couple other experiences with guys who weren't over their last relationship and a guy who was still married. Note to all you singles out there. Free month isn't the time to try online dating!

Finally Person C, we'll call her Dogs/Pool/Big House/Warm Heart lady with a great laugh. She tried a free service and discovered the guy she met for coffee (an out of towner) was on his way from visiting his son in prison. Umm baggage alert.

I've also heard lots of success stories from online dating. So keep trying ladies! (and keep relating those funny stories!)

Halloween

Even though I rarely dress up, I love Halloween. This a.m., I chuckled watching the Today Show. The whole crew dressed up like Star Wars Characters. Matt drove in, as Luke of course, in some type of rocket ship. His hatch popped open and he said "Gee I was busy on my laptop" aka Northwest Airlines pilots who missed their stop in Minneapolis. Clever!

Al Roker was Han Solo. He asked Darth - hey is Jabba the Hut related to Pizza? Funny stuff. Hoda was Yoda of course. Kathy Lee - C3PO. Meredith was Princess Leia, complete with face widening braids. It reminded me how much I love that movie. It was unlike anything we'd ever seen before. Al Roker said he saw it three times the first day. Yep, he's one of those! Nerd alert.

The show also had a costume contest. People are so very creative! My fave was the winner - a gal who spent a week on her costume. Her head stuck through a railroad track, which featured a little body with dangy widdo wegs and feet, and a train on it's way to smash the damsel in distress. What a hoot!

Another bit of media cleverness for Halloween comes right from our own Creston News Advertiser. The two young sports writers dressed as the old media curmudgeons of town - Creston Radio sportscaster Gary Bucklin and CNA newsbeat/sports writer Larry Peterson. See the photo below.

Clumsy seester

My sissies above

I didn't use to be the clumsy sister (or seester as my sis's and I refer to ourselves). That was Betso, or Susi or Cindy. Not me!

As I said before on this site, I was a coordinated jocky little tom boy. I did tell you how I broke my arm - but that was no clumsy fall. I jumped from the top of the slide at my nursery school in order to escape the boys. Unfortunately I toppled onto my arm. In a controlled unclumsy fashion.

Susi on the other hand, broke her arm swinging on the neighbor's willow tree. Cindy broke her arm falling on our outside concrete steps on the ice. Betsy had no breaks that I recall but she had a whole lotta stitches. Cuz she was girly, floppy and well clumsy.

When Betsy was little - 5 maybe, she was with our sitter Lulabelle (yep that's what we all called her). Lula came when my folks were out of town overnight. She was in her 60's back then and a widdalady (widow). We loved having Lulabelle sit when we were young cuz she sure could cook. She would bake both sugar and chocolate chip cookies in one day! And she made the best fried chicken with real mashed potatoes evah. The next day she'd use the leftover chicken and make real homemade noodles for chix and noodles.

This particular day Lula was double-dipping. Sitting Betso Bean and Anne Swisher at the same time. They were at Swisher's house and they had a dog with a bad leg. I think it was a Dalmatian. Betsy decided to touch the dog's bad leg and was rewarded with a bite to the face.

I'm not sure if I was there or not (touch the leg Betsy I dare you!) No that really was more Cindo's style. But I seem to remember being at Dr. Wilcox's old office in downtown Atlantic when they stitched her up. The lore of the day is that Betsy bit the nurse when they tried to put the stitches in, and the nurse had to have a tetanus shot! So Bets always had a little scar on her cheek until high school when she had micro-surgery to stitch it up finer.

Betsy was always flopping around the house, doing cartwheels and handstands. We had a large formal living room that was perfect for that activity. There were big picture windows one could see one's self in at night. Cindy practiced cheers in there. "Hey the Trojans are out to get you tonight, so hey you Trojans fight with all your might!" (the team not the condoms)

We also had nice hardwood floor in our hallway and Dad would place his leather briefcase there when he came in on Fridays. (Probably to head to our wet bar for a stiff one...). One night Betsy came sliding out in her stocking feet, lost her balance and nailed the briefcase with her head. Stitches. Another time she got 'em due to "ringing" the pretend doorbell in our fort in the woods.

I never did have stitches until I gave birth to numero uno child, and we won't even talk about where those went! But now, suddenly I've begun to have clumsy mishaps causing injury to my body. First, just under 3 years ago after brunch at Susan's with the girls, I fell walking in cold weather. My damn knee just gave out and my hand was in my pocket.

Hmmm what's uglier - the eye or the hair?

My head bounced on the damn highway like a basketball. I bent my glasses, which gashed my face and got a black eye. My buddies (yeah some friends they are) had all run ahead and didn't even see it happen. But they did come to my rescue and luckily a guy I know pulled up to the stop sign and saw me getting up. He drove us back to Susan's and to my car. I bawled when I got home and called Paul. Embarrassed and hurt -good thing he had witnesses that he didn't do it. I don't heal quickly and had that black eye for some 6 weeks. Argh.

Last spring I fell on the steps and Joan's and this week, again on the damn steps. I hope this doesn't become the norm. I vow to be more careful!

On Friday Doc Hoyt ordered X-rays and diagnosed an emulsion fracture - my ligament pulled a bit of bone away from the main bone. Must have been the snap I heard when it happened. Black boot for 3 weeks. Uck. (with an F)

New BFF

I just met my new best friend - Chris the masseuse. Remember a few months ago when I was having shoulder/neck issues? I went to my first evah chiro - Dr. Wes, another UNI grad Hawk fan, but all in all nice guy.

Doc Wes liked to pop my back and neck every week or two weeks, for months. While he helped me stop the bad spasms I didn't feel like I was actually healing. So when I had my hysterectomy, I discontinued treatments. So no popping for the past 3 month.

My shoulder/neck continues to bug me periodically, but no worse than last summer. Will I always feel like this? Baby girl Amy wanted a massage for her bday, so I set up an appointment for her with my 'ol buddy Jules in Boulder. That got me to thinking - why don't I too have a massage? But where?

It seems Doctor Wes at Waukee Wellness has a masseuse that comes in each week. I'm a little picky - I don't want just any 'ol hands rubbing on my white whale body! Andrea, the receptionist at Doc Wes's (a good Cyclone Fan) vouched for the masseuse and I signed up. In the small world Dept. Andrea's hubby Evan sits right by us at Cyclone games. I met him and their little guy (age 1) at the office last spring/summer. Then at the Army Cyclone game I noticed them all sitting by us! Just took me a minute to remember where I'd seen her before. Go Clones!

So today was the day - my very first evah full massage. I've had reflexology and a facial, even a 15 minute version of a massage. But never a full hour massage. Ahhh couldn't wait.

Did I tell you about my clumsy spell? Welp Monday night I trotted down the steps after talking to Pablo the Pool Boy. He must have left me all distracted, as once again I missed that last step. Thump! My heel caught the edge of that step and I jammed my toe into the carpet, over-extending my foot. Man did that hurt! F*&!$!# Meou! (didn't want Joan to hear me wimper)

I took off from work early today and I was shopping (no buying) at Merle Hay (sad to see all the closed storefronts) when Andrea called me to say they'd had a cancellation. So I buzzed right over and met Chris the masseuse. She explained her system and stepped out while I stripped down to my skivvies and hopped facedown onto the special table, covering up with a cotton blankie.

Chris came in and put a nice warm pad on me while she worked on my legs, being very gentle to the black and blue right foot. Then she worked her way up to my wacked left scapula. She kneaded the exact spot it hurts! She can feel the knot there. Ah it hurt so good. I loved it when she used her elbow to dig into muscles. She even did my scalp and face. It was muy relaxo.

Chris is a petite woman, I'd estimate early 40's, former Catholic now wife of Presby minister. Mom of 4 - oldest in college. She is highly educated and only realized after many years of college and what sounds like several degrees that she wanted to learn the art of massage - a one year course. She's also done personal training at the Y. She's a way nice lady. My new friend - with benefits - that I pay.

Think I'll go back when I can afford my friend again!

Rats!

Oh those jokesters in Underground Storage Tanks (that's the section at work near my cubicle). They've decorated one of their co-workers cube with critters - such as rubber rats. Each time I walk by on the way to the potty or frig, those creatures catch my eye and I reminisce about the way Sal, Vic and I terrorized Jane (Joan Von Flake) years ago.

You might recall Vic, Jane and Sal were my college roomies all those years ago. We always had fun shopping, especially around Halloween! Vicki could get me laughing so hard I would tear up and drool. I like that kinda friend!

Jane, who grew up on a farm outside Colo, Iowa, was terrified of rats. (Note - I don't actually like the damn things myself, but it was Jane who was known for it!). See I'm chuckling while writing this because I just remember the really funny part of the story.

So Vic and I were shopping at North Grand Mall, and there in Hallmark were life sized rubber rats. We decided to get one to torture Jane with. They were black with a mouth opening to a hollow body and ratlike tail. We critiqued each one - wanting to find the perfect rat for our friend.

Then we had to find just the "right" place in our apartment to scare the bejesus out of Jane. We settled on sticking him (had to be a male rat, right?!) under the couch with mainly his rat tail showing easily. I believe we were all in the living room when she was talking. Right in the middle of her sentence she jumped up and said "what in the hell is that?" Of course we howled at her expense.

After that we all delighted in putting the rat all over our apartment. She'd go into the bathroom and find Mr. Rat on the back of the toilet. She'd open a cupboard and he'd be smiling at her. He became our lil pet.

And then there was the trick Jane did with that rat. You see we drank a little beer in those days. Jane would pretend she felt like puking and then puke beer from her mouth into the rat's mouth - complete with sound effects. And then re-drink it. That trick sent us to gales of hilarity each time!

I loves my homies

Breakfast on Monday mornings with my homies at S&K Cafe in Creston makes the day much easier to get through. I've splained before about how depressing Sunday evenings are - what with all my ironing, packing and such. Dreading leaving my honey buns, the pets, and well..my bed. But when I get to start Monday morning with the fun loving, shit-giving and caring gals that are my homies, I'm starting the day out right! This a.m. I had the added bonus of getting to bring an old friend along to the festivities - Mary Faber of Eburg, Iowa is visiting town today and tomorrow and is staying at chez Goldsmyth. Mary was one of the first people I met in Ctown -way back in 1987. She was in charge of recruiting new members to Beta Sigma Phi the social sorority in town. 

Who could say no to such a warm and caring voice? Not me. Plus I had NO friends and no job, besides 1 year old Amy whom I was tending to day and night. I was dying to get out and meet people. I remember distinctly that Mar even came to get me that first meeting. I believe Bobbie and Mendy also rode along to Gwen Buck's house. It was so exciting! I met several life-long friends in that little group. Sharon, Diana (Dee) and Bobbie to name three. And Mary, who moved away from me something like 10 years ago. Insert tears here. Mar is so easy to talk to, and is interesting, smart and funny. Plus she oozes empathy, so folks seem to find it easy to tell her all their troubles. My breakfast homies today included Nancy, Susan, Pat, Patti, Mary, Lucy, Bobbie and Deb the bday girl. Most of us wore our Half Marathon shirts and medals. Heck Patti even brought her trophy from the Balloon Days race. Mary took the photos, so I'm sad to say she's not in any of my shots. Typical though - she caught us in our natural state here - laughing! I loves my homies! (and a gal from Eburg!)

Win for the generations

Until yesterday, the Iowa State Cyclones had not beaten the Nebraska Cornhuskers since 1977 when I was a sophomore at ISU. I remember it like it was yesterday (that's cuz I don't remember yesterday too well anymore).

We had beaten the Huskers in Ames my freshman year. Back then, students had general seating and some camped out in order to get the good seats. We would line up early, clutching fifths of vodka and pints of Jack Daniels. They actually let us in with that stuff! We'd dump booze into our cups of Seven Up and Coke, sipping (or gulping) during warm ups while the big speakers on the field played songs like Rubberband Man and other disco hits. Dexter Green was the running back and there were stars on defense too.

My sophomore year we didn't go to the game, and of course it wasn't on TV. But I do remember people running around in the halls of the dorms yelling "we won!" And after a while the goal post were marched ceremoniously down Lincoln Way and tossed into Lake LuVerne. After years of Husker domination we had beaten them on their turf. I grew up in a town where there were many Nebraska diehards and it was especially satisfying!

So fast forward 32 years. My kid is a junior at ISU and we win in a crazy game where our starting quarterback and running back are sidelined by injury. Nebraska is coming off a surprise victory at Missouri followed by a humiliating loss at home to Texas Tech. They're pissed, but fans on their message board sound similar to Hawkeye fans - gee what a lose-lose situation it is for us to have to stoop to playing lowly ISU.

Their team resembled Iowa's fumblin' Ronnie Harmon back in the Rosebowl many years ago. They lost the ball every way they could, and the less talented Clones took care of business. As time ticked away I envisioned all the heartbreaking ways our team could lose. A last second 55 yard field goal came to mind - driving a stake in our hearts thanks to a missed extra point.

For once this season, the football gods shined down on the clones and despite the odds the team came through. I love our coach, and this team. They don't give up. And after all the cold rain this fall...there is joy in mudville!

Red Rover

Above - Washington Elementary in Atlantic. Far right is the site of Mrs. Christiansen's Kindergarten, where Tommy Sandhorst peed around the tile clock on the floor, and Robbie Dob got me in trouble for talking during nap time. Yep, I'm blaming her and Dan Mason!

This brisk weather's got me thinking about my brown corduroy coat. I must have been in about 4th or 5th grade at Washington Elementary School - the newest of Atlantic's 3 elementary schools, when I wore it.

The schools included: Jackson Jackass - the oldest school in town. Heck my daddy went there. Lincoln Stinken was next oldest - right along Highway 6 in town. In the early 50's the town built Washington Washtub the Bullock girls' alma mater. It was in the newer part of town, and because of that, we Washington kids were perceived as the "rich kids." No matter which school we went to, we all had competitive spirits hence the naughty nicknames to go with!

Speaking of competitive, I'm the first to say I'm not a real competitive person - in MOST things. (yeah, I know Cyclone sports bring out the worst of my competitive juices). Example A: the DM 1/2 Marathon last week. Sure I was interested in my time - to see how I compare to what pace I usually walk. But I'm not interested in killing myself in order to win.

During my childhood I had an older sis who would beat me every chance she got to - even if she had to cheat! (Yeah that's you Cindo, moving your bombs in Stratego). And Betso had a fit if she didn't win, so sometimes I went easy on her just so I didn't have to deal with it.

But put me up against a boy in athletic type events and I was all about competition! I've mentioned before what a tomboy I was. I was jealous that they got all the good stuff. Cub Scout uniforms were much cooler looking than the brownie dresses I had to wear. That great blue color and oh that neckerchief! Boys got to play sports - and 60's girls only got to look forward to being a cheerleader.

So when it came to physical education (or gym class) and recess, I tried to be as good as any boy there. And before puberty I probably was equal to many of them in speed, strength, agility. Before my muy largo Pat B. legs grew, slowing me down. Yes, I will blame my mommy all my life for large legs and a small chest.

At recess, all my life I had a competition thing going on with boys. In pre-school at Mrs. Lewin's I explained in another blog about how we were playing boys chase girls, and I leaped off the large slide, falling on and breaking my arm.

Then in lower elementary, I remember again playing some type of tag. I had a reversable rain coat - with a red side and a blue side. I would tag someone, and then reverse the coat and dodge around the other kids playing jump rope and four square, trying to evade getting tagged.

In upper elementary, on a chilly muddy day like this one, we began to play the 'ol favorite "red rover" game. Where you form two lines, holding hands and facing each other. One team calls out "red rover, red rover send jimbob on over". Jimbob runs towards the other line and tries to break through the arms (holding hands) of two people in the other line. If he fails, he joins their line. If he wins he takes a "hostage" back to be in his line.

I was wearing my special brown corduroy coat on this particular day. I was known for being strong (at least in my own mind) and breaking through even the strongest of bonds on the opposing team. Sure enough, they called me on over. I decided to bust through between my nemesis, Greg Younger and some buddy of his. If I could do that - I'd be acclaimed all afternoon!

Please recall in those days, girls had to wear dresses every day, no matter how cold it might be outside. How dumb was that? Oh but ladylike! So in my slickery school shoes, jumper and coat I barreled towards Greg, determined to bust through. Right when I reached them they let go, so I didn't meet any resistance! Somehow I slipped on a patch of mud just beyond the line of kids and fell flat, getting my coat all muddy. And getting my pride all muddy as well. I don't remember if I cried, but I do remember being humiliated. Guess that's how I remember it some 40 years later!
Oh the angst of childhood. Sometimes I wonder how I survived.

Bass Pro

I finally made it out to the new Bass Pro Shop that opened in Altoona (s/b spelled Al tuna for the store! arar - pirate laugh). It does have an impressive aquarium, and on one end of the store there is a cool looking bowling alley and restaurant.

I tried on some on sale shorts but argh. Once again Mommy Dearest's legs were a deterrent to purchase. I really should never wear shorts, yet I do. Just should never look in a mirror at myself in shorts I guess.

So after striking out on sale clothing items, and lusting over Columbia and Northface stuff I looked at shoes. Put it this way - the store is no Scheel's. Or even a Family Shoe. On to gifts. I ended up purchasing a big alligator pillow for our nephew Brad's new baby boy, Noah. And I got a wrought iron frog garden dealie - like a stepping stone made of iron for sister Cindo for Xmas. Plus a couple cute Christmas ornaments for my nephew Colby and bro in law Bolder. We have the Lefebvres for Christmas.

And we're going to Vail (actually Edwards where the L's live) for Christmas. Sister Suso and hubby Jim and daughter Jordie will be there. Engaged daughter Leslie will stay in LA for the holidays. Amy, Juddy, Pablo and I will be there - enjoying being with the fam! Maybe even get in a day of skiing.

After our brief visit with Amy, the next time to see her seems to far off! Jud Bud is coming home Friday - hair cut, laundry and a meal at A&G are all on his agenda. We'll see what we can do to provide.

All bottled up

I'm feelin' good tonight. My big contract at work, the one I've slaved over for the past 6 months, was approved by the Environmental Protection Commission today. Phewww. Last Friday I was feeling like it wouldn't happen.

I had sent the draft copy to the contractor - GS&P a consulting firm in Dallas. Then on Friday the poopay hit the fan when our DNR legal beagle called to say he needed it ASAP. Shoooot (as my dad's gf Kay used to say). Of course GS&P's people marked it up big time. I was workin' at home and stressed.

So come Monday, we were under the gun to get the thing done (after gentle prompting from my boss). The DNR attorney Jon re-marked it up and I sent it back to GS&P again. Then GS&P wanted to talk to Jon who went home with a sick child. Argh - BB (Big Boss) had to take off for Fayette (where the EPC meeting was) early this a.m. before said atty and Laura from GS&P ironed things out. So I called him while he was enroute to give him the heads up that it was kosher.

BB had to do a sales job as those EPC commissioners are tough task masters. They ask tough questions. He must have done a good job, because we got word this afternoon that it passed. Yee Ha!

Last night I got to relieve my stress of the situation by bottling wine. Yum! Roomie Joan and I traveled to my friend Susan's sister's home to do the bottling. A group of our friends met us there. Lucy, Deb, Pat, Diana, Patti, Susan, Bobbie all made the trek from Crestonia. Mary Ann and her friend umm Whatshername (I'm awful at remembering names) I think it might be Sheryl all helped.

We bottled some 60 bottles of the Chardonnay and Green Apple Riesling. My buddies brought snacks - cheese, chocolates, veggies, crackers and more. We got to drink the leftovers - including the spitty wine that Mary Ann sucked out of the tube to get it going. Bottling involves sucking the wine (started a few weeks ago by a few of the gang from a kit) from the large glass bottles the stuff fermented in.

Susan and Pat were brave enough to run the filler part. Patti and I manned (womaned?) the corker for the first batch. It's a cool little machine that jams to cork into the bottle neck. Joan wiped the bottles down and Deb, Lucy and Bobbie were in charge of putting on the gold cap that was heated with a blow dryer to seal it. Then our own label was attached. Cool!

It was a fun night - reminding me how great it is to have crazy, funny, nutty, generous loving friends. Friendship in a bottle! Maybe Patti will send me a couple pics from the event. hint, hint

So short Long walk

I miss my baby girl. And the short itty bitty amount of time I got to see her yesterday only whetted my appetite for more time with her. It was like only getting a little corner of a Hershey Bar with almonds, and then someone snatches that candy bar away. Before you even get an almond. Our lunch with both kids at Hickory Park was nice. I'm glad Jud freed up time in his pre-tailgating partay to go with us. Of course J and Pablo began talking football right away, until Amy the birthday girl called a timeout. 

After our meal, Amy and I headed to the mall, but we didn't get much shopping together in before Paul arrived to take me away to a very cold tailgate. I mean really, forecasters. If the weather is going to suck, just tell us! We can take it. None of this "clouds breaking up" later in the afternoon. When they certainly didn't and the chill and damp like to cripple me - before the big race! I wore 3 layers and ended up adding four more layers. And I still froze my ass off. And Pablo forgot the Hot Hands! Amy and roomies came to the tailgate, and froze their tails too. 

I made a lovely Kahlua Torte for the bday and it went over quite well. We also grilled 20 hamburgers and McKims et al did lots of chix breasts. Paul's sis Jean hubby Dave and their gal Annette and hubby Jeremy Barnhart were in the house (parking lot). Jud showed up later with the gang. I was too dang cold to drink and eat. I know...tragic! It was hard saying g'bye to my kiddo - she's off to Denver again today. Last week the girl was awarded a $2 per hour raise at her job. Yay! Then it was in to el gamo. What a game it was - the Cyclones were awesome and despite not being all liquored up, I had a great time cheering, high fiving, dancing and singing. Everyone that sits around our group loves us - we're so f'ing funny! (okay in our own minds anyway). The students entertained us by organizing terrible towel wars.

 

We stayed till the end to enjoy every minute - then it was off to Joan's and my new electric blanky so I could finally warm up. This a.m. Pablo and I walked the half marathon in 3 hr 13 minutes - 13 seconds slower than I walked by myself last year. I'm nothing if not consistent! Not bad for an old gal who had her uterus ripped out in late July. Deb, Patti, Pat, Susan and Bobbie walked it in 2 hr 46 minutes - setting a world land speed record for old chix. haha We ate sannies and drank beer afterwards. I'm getting a little stiff now. Between the cold, shivering yesterday and the excessive walking today I deserve it! We sat and enjoyed each others' company after the race (though they were a couple beers ahead due to their early finish). My neighbor Nan joined - she's a runner and she finished way before me too. I love those ladies! (tomorrow night, we're bottling wine in Dexter...) Susan tried to make idle conversation with my husband by asking him about his deer. "I hear ya got a big one," she said. "Yes, I do," he replied. She turned red. He smiled smugly to himself. That man's lived with this smart ass too long!

Scary movies

There is a movie genre out there that just won't go away. It seems we just can't get enough of getting the bejesus scared out of us! I'm not a huge scary movie fan. In fact, just ask my Pablo the Poolboy - I cover my eyes watching regular movies.

The Drive Inn Theater in Atlantic was one place I saw a lot of screamers. Perhaps that was a good place to watch 'em cuz then I could distract myself by drinkin' beer. I watched one blood and guts movie (I know not the name) that made me never look at a spindle the same. I remember nothing else about the movie except a woman sitting at a desk and someone snuck up on her and force her head down towards her desk so the paper spindle poked into her eye. Argh!

Do you remember the movie Carrie? It's when Stephen King first got my attention, as the movie was based on one of his books. You know, those early really scary ones - like Carrie, and the Shining. Man those books even creeped me out - but at least I can skim the scary parts! "Here's Johnny" scary Jack N.

And then there is the original Halloween movie (1978)with Jamie Lee Curtis. I went with my college roomies in Ames. I spent most of the movie with my feet up on the seat, hiding my eyes behind my knees. It was terrifying! When we got out of the movie, we wouldn't get into the car without having Moose check out the back seat first. I believe that was the last horror flick I saw at a theater.

We've rented a few of them, and watched them on TV. Friday the 13th, Chuckie - though that one just made me howl with laughter - that little Chuckie dude hanging on a guy's neck kicking his widdo wegs (little legs).

Jud doesn't like scary movies either. It always made me mad when he'd accidental see one at someone's birthday party, or staying overnight with a friend. The kid wouldn't sleep well for a week! Even the commercials were too much for him - poor guy!

I will watch suspense flicks. I remember taking Pablo, Bobbie and Jeff to Silence of the Lambs. The book was excellent, but they had no idea what they were going to. The gore freaked them out. Clarice - what do you hear Clarice. Is there anyone scarier than Anthony Hopkins?

Dean Koontz, another Stephen King type author, wrote a scary good version of Frankenstein - I've listened to Part 1 and read Part 2. Wish they'd come out with more, cuz they left it a cliffhanger with a crazy guy under the floor in the heroine's house, stalking her autistic brother. Delicious!

I don't much like bloody fight scenes - like Paul and Jud do. They liked those shows with big fight scenes - war and violence. Not me!

So next time you see at the video store, I'll be looking at the suspense, historical, romance, funny stuff. And the occasional super hero flick. You can have the blood and guts!

Downhill kitty

Our kitty is looking pretty old. I guess that's because she IS old. After all, Samantha (her real name, but somehow we've never called her that) was Amy's bday gift when she was in 3rd grade. So Amy would have been 9 and that makes Kitty 15. Yikes!

She's been in pretty good health until the past few months, when she's slipped. Her fur is matted and she walks gingerly. Poor old gal. She's been a good kitty really. As good as kitties can be anyways. Not evil like my first cat Bucko.

I got Bucko from the pound in Sioux Falls when I lived there for my first job. Bucko was a boy cat - although I did get him fixed. Regardless he's was always showing off his maleness. Climbing the curtains and leaping into high places. Just plain showing off.

Bucko pretty much hated all people except me. I think it was due to his brief stint in the joint (the pound). I loved him, and Paul tolerated him. He tolerated our kids by staying away from them. Bucko would wait until I bent over in my walk in the closet and he'd run and jump onto my back, launching himself onto the top shelf.

When we lived in Council Bluffs (as newlyweds) one night whilst I was taking a bath, Bucko decided to jump off the back of the toilet onto the top of the shower door frame. Unfortunately (for him - for me it was hilarious) he slipped, fell into the toilet which he flushed with the little legs on the way down. Good thing he didn't get sucked in!

Bucko also liked to bite. He'd lay on my chest while I read a book, rubbing his face on mine. Rub, rub, chomp! And it wasn't a love bite either. Pain!

Kitty has been much more mellow than that. She was a stray for the first few months of her life. We adopted her from the vet clinic where a lady was paying to board her since she'd found the stray that she couldn't keep due to allergies. We saved her life - and it's been a cushy one.

Kitty doesn't like vets. (Nor does she like most people - seems to be a theme with my cats) She chomped on Dr. Brus last time I had her in (5 or 6 years ago). I vowed then that she'd croak before I did that again. Well it's nearly time. For now, she's not in terrible pain and we'll keep babying her.

When Bucko died (he had health issues by age 13) I was such a basket case that I got a migraine and had to stay home from work. Paul buried him under a tree near 12 Mile Lake, while I lay on my bed crying. I think Odie will miss Kitty more than I will - especially since she'll be home alone. The two have had fun chasing each other around. I wish pets lived as long as humans!

Taking baby home

So after Amy was finally born, I spent three glorious days in the hospital. They catered to me and I loved it - and needed it, because my little 9 lb 7 oz. caused quite a ruckus with my body. The day after Amy was born, every square inch of my body was sore. I felt like a truck had hit me! A little red-headed one.

The day after Amy was born, Mercy Hospital in Mason City served us (Paul and me the happy parents) a nice steak dinner with a little bottle of champagne to celebrate. That was sweet. Paul was so anxious to get back down to the hospital to see his little pride and joy. And me too!

Amy was born on Monday October 14, 1985 and my Mom came on Wednesday, prior to our going home on Thursday. She stopped at the hospital on her way to Osage, and I happened to be walking through the hall with Amy in my arms as she walked up the hall. I naturally walked towards her to show her the lil bundle when a nurse shrieked "no". Evidently Mom was "unclean" and not supposed to touch the baby. So she had to be content to look at her through the nursery window.

On Thursday we wedged Amy into the car seat and headed off towards home - some 30 minutes away. She was in the back seat, and at one point she cried - one of those tiny baby cries where they sound like a cat or something. Argh! Did I mention I don't no nothing about birthin' babies - or taking care of them afterwards?

Good thing my buddy Vic had her baby girl in February, so I'd gotten advice from her and my sis Susi who popped out niece Leslie in July of 1984. But that was the extent of my baby knowledge. Man I spent a lot of time studying the books - Dr. Spock and the little magazine the hospital sent me home with. Kind of a baby instruction manual.

Amy was pretty easy to take care of - but harder than a cat or a dog - things I was used to dealing with. She was big and quickly began to eat more than my poor breastes (as Donnie calls them) could supply. And at first she frequently would spit up - not just a bit down her shirt. All over the wall!

Mom was quite helpful with food, laundry etc. But she was also pretty worthless with baby - when it came to what to do, when anyway. It'd been a while since 'ol Pat had infants around. At least she didn't urge me to "feed the baby some solids" like Vic's In-Laws did constantly! I quickly learned that once baby ate, she usually got busy in the diaper department - if you know what I mean. Paul and I called it "Mu Goo Guy Pan" like the Chinese dish. It sucked when I'd feed her during the night, and she would get all relaxed and sleepy, and then - oops, time to change the diaper and she'd be all awake again. And when she was sitting on my lap and would begin to make very unladylike noises, which sounded like they were coming from me!

Amy loved her pacifier - or Binky as we called it. It relaxed her. We didn't put her in bed with it, and were lucky when a few months later our daycare provider broke her of it all together so she wasn't one of those 3 year olds taking out the Binky to call out orders to the parents.

That first year was one of constant change. Once we would get used to something, she would grow up some more. We were lucky Amy slept through the night at age 5 weeks. We would put her to bed at 7 PM and eat supper. Sure, she got up at 5 a.m., but I could live with that! I got to watch that religion show with Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker (before the divorce), cuz it was on right before Looney Tunes - my fave cartoon. Aw I was (and am still) a kid myself!

Beloved

Beloved today - on the right - her hair didn't stay quite as red as her former roomie's.


Amy the early days.



It's Amy's (the name means beloved and fits) birthday tomorrow. Her bday was nearly on October 9th. We lived in a small northern Iowa town named Osage at the time. I had been pregnant in 1984, only to have to have a D&C after there was no heartbeat. It was devastating.

Luckily, once the doc said it was okay, I got pregnant again in like a minute! The baby, whom we affectionately nicknamed Turdell, was due October 7. I was a pretty nervous pregnant chick after that miscarriage, understandably so. I began going to an OBGYN in Mason City named Dr. Dunker. He was a calming fatherly figure - think Ward Kluever. I loved him!

My pregnancy went fine. Paul and I attended Lamaze class in Mason City. We went on a "last" vacation prior to baby, to a resort on a lake in Minnesota. I became huge - gaining some 40+ pounds. Dr. D gave Paul good advice - never point it out that your wife now weighs more than you do...

In mid September the doc began to tell me that I would deliver early and could go any day. By then I could hardly walk as the baby's head was pressing on nerves in my hip. I was miserable and therefore so was Paul. We tried everything to start labor - driving over railroad tracks, and well other stuff people said might work. Nada!

(Note: each year from the time she was around 3 until well...now, I've told this story to Amy on her bday. She would climb into my bed to hear her birth story).

So finally Dr. Dunker scheduled me to have labor induced October 9th (it was a Wednesday) at Mercy Hospital in Mason City. Paul and I arrived there bright and early, complete with all the crap the lamaze folks said to bring. Our fave casette tapes (we were to have the birthing suite that had a stereo), books, my needlepoint, etc. We checked in and we were told - we're full - no room in the inn for you to have your baby. (at that point we didn't know boy/girl). Worse yet, they said your doc isn't on call again until Monday, so have a nice weekend! Argh 5 more days of misery.

So sadly we went home and called all the peeps back to tell them no baby today! And we did have a long ass weekend. But Monday finally came. And I do like the 14th better than the 9th (don't tell my sis Cindo of April 9 bday). That day we did get past the front desk!

I took out my needle point and we settled into the room next to the birthing suite. Doc Dunker came in and broke my water, and said "labor should start now". Nothing...I stitched some more. Finally, after noon (I couldn't eat, so had a Popsicle) he decided to hit me up with some pitocin. Thank God for that stuff because I believe without it, I'd still be preggers.

Yes, I began to have contractions. The lady next door starting sounding uncomfortable. A little distracting! Paul and I walked the halls, hoping to quicken the pace. Finally the screaming next door culminated in a baby cry. Shortly thereafter I was moved into the suite. Yay! And, lucky for Paul, the World Series game between St. Louis and Kansas City was on. Of course his attention was all directed at me. During the commercials..

Doc checked me periodically. Just wouldn't quite dilate all the way. And never got that urge to push. Though I gave a valiant effort anyway. He decided after 6 PM that forceps might be needed. He had an intern, a young woman from Yugoslavia who was very kind. It was interesting (and scary) to hear Doc explaining to her about the huge needle he stuck into me to deaden my pelvic area so he could use the forceps.

All the cheerleading crotchwatchers began to tell me that they could see the head. BFD just get it out of me! Doc would yank while I would push. Just one more push they'd say. I had retreated inside my own head, almost in disbelief. And in the background, Ozzie Smith hit a homer for St. Louis, and all the others commented on it. I was silent, okay maybe moaning a bit.

Finally, she emerged at just after 7 PM! It's a girl, they said. She has red hair. I could hear them doing the apgar scores - I don't think the whole birth process was too fun for my little girl either, but the second time they did it she was doing fine. 9 pounds 7 ounces! No wonder I couldn't poop her out.

The nurses cleaned Amy Elizabeth up and combed her hair into a little curly que. She was such a nice little bundle. We were on cloud 9! We started making phone calls to all the relatives who were also ecstatic. They had to massage my uterus and man that hurt about as much as the whole labor thing, but the little distraction in the room helped with the pain.

Finally they wheeled me into my own room. By that time it was like 11 PM. Paul kissed me goodbye and headed for home. I was sleepless in MC, pumped full of adrenaline and hardly slept a wink. I was too excited - thrilled with our new addition. I couldn't wait to see her again.

They finally brought her in to nurse and I fell in love all over again. Back in those days, we got to stay in the hospital 3 days. Good thing, cuz my poor bottom needed sitzbaths. On day 2, Amy was used as the model baby, to show the new moms how to bath baby. My heart nearly burst with pride! The other babies looked so scrawny next to her.

And we've been proud of her ever since. Mom called her Merry Sunshine, and she lites up our lives. Happy Birthday Merry Sunshine!

Book Quote

I enjoyed this quote in a book I'm reading - the latest offering from Sara Paretsky and her VI Warshawski series. VI's real name is Victoria, and her father (long deceased) was a cop in Chicago, during those post WWII years and into the racially charge 60's.

To set up this quote, go back to the late 1960's. VI is around 10, and she's dissed her mom because her birthday party was ruined thanks to her racist mouthy aunt. VI took it out on her mother, angrily. Her father tells her "Victoria every day I have to go out on the streets and face people who think their anger counts more than anyone else’s feelings or needs."

I think that statement rings very true today. There are a lot of angry people. They've lost money, jobs, and safety nets. Their way of life has and is changing. That causes them to be scared - and being scared makes folks angry.

So I'm going to try my best to understand where they are coming from. And to take the anger all in stride. And not yell at my mother...

Great (and I mean really) great white hunter

Pablo the Poolboy shot a deer today with his bow. Not only a deer, but the biggest bestest deer he's ever shot. He called me right when I got to my cubicle this a.m. I was running late after having breakfast with my homies at S&K Cafe in Creston.



So I got a late start, and while driving had another headache (#3 of the weekend) so I took my meds on the way. Then I heard about an accident on the freeway, so I got off at 8th St. to avoid it. The good news is I wasn't IN the accident. And my wonderful meds get rid of my headaches.



So Pablo calls me all breathless and jubilant. "I shot a huge buck", he says. I can tell he's shot full of adrenaline. Last year he told me he shot a big buck, but it seemed to shrink (men do tend to exaggerate size - have you ever noticed that?) when he got out of his tree stand.



Not this year, though I must admit, the phone pic he sent me didn't do it justice. When he sent me the real pic from a camera I realized he was right. It's friggen huge! I printed out the pic at work to show other hunters. My boss Al expressed extreme jealousy - he's not even been out yet. Sue plans to hunt with her muzzle loader soon and she was quite impressed with said deer.

In order to avoid hernia and heart attack, Paul called upon Jeff to help drag the deer out of the woods to where the Jeep awaited. Odie had scads of fun sniffing the scents of death in our garage after Paul caped the deer there. Our neighbor Jean (pronounced Jhawn) all 100 lob of him helped Paul get the carcass back into the Jeep to go to Corning to be processed.

I'm so happy for Pablo - he's so pleased. And exhausted.

I'm sad for the deer though. He was alive this a.m. and now he's dead. There are way too many deer in Iowa. They're dangerous around roads and damage crops. They need to be weeded out, and Pablo is doing his part. Hmm I didn't really convince myself that killing animals was okay but I tried...

Paul is a good hunter - who spends a great deal of time and effort (and $$) on his sport. It gives him immense enjoyment, and stress relief. Nothing like killing things to release a bit o stress!

Being difficult

Last night in church, a 3ish little boy ran up the aisle, followed by a 5 year old sis and delightedly proclaimed, "I want to sit here!" A couple seconds later, his sheepish mother came to retrieve him, saying "We have to see someplace else because Mommy has to go up in front to sing."

Uh oh. You know what can happen when a 3 year old makes a decision that gets usurped. Meltdown followed, all the way to the back of the church. First protestations, then shrieks, then crying. He must have been whisked away because I lost track of him.

Phew! Oh I remember those days. Thought about them all through the first part of mass - when I was supposed to be listening and praying. Hmmm what does that say about me? Church ADD? Or is that what church is about - time for reflection upon one's life? That is what I end up doing most weeks. While gospel readings teach many lessons, sometimes they leave me wondering, "what does that mean..."

So the meltdown helped me recall what a difficult child one of our children was at that age. Let's call him Jud. Amy had her moments and was very stubborn, but she was more easily distracted and even reasoned with. Jud was a firecracker, especially when he was a wiry strong 3-4 year old.

Jud could be a strong-willed child who sometimes had tantrums. They were loud and physical. While we could send Amy to the time-out chair and expect her to mostly sit there during her "sentence" Jud sometimes wouldn't stay put there. So his time-outs were in his room, where I would sit in front of the door, since I wasn't strong enough to hold the little wiggling bastard in my lap. He would be in a rage, and would throw things, stomp and yell. It was scary!

When he wasn't throwing a fit, Jud was really cute, and could be so funny and fun. He was a great athlete and learned to ride a bike without training wheels at age 3. He loved all boy stuff and idolized Amy and her imagination. She would come up with wonderful pretend activities - school, superhero stuff, and in the activities Jud always wanted his pretend name to be Jerry, because it started with J just like his name. But he sometimes lacked self control when things didn't go his way.

Tantrums could be set off by just saying "no" to something he wanted, cutting his sandwich the wrong way, and transitions. He hated transitions. When he was having fun playing at a friend's house, he hated when I came to pick him up - and we would have a knock down drag out when I did get him in our van to go home.

I'm embarrassed to admit I didn't always handle Jud's tantrums the right way - I lost control and reacted in anger, yelling back even spanking upon occasion. Sometimes I just stomped off to my room, or locked myself in the bathroom to calm down. Thank goodness I wasn't a single parent!

When Jud started kindergarten at age 5, he had suffered from frequent throat infections and the doc suggested removing his tonsils. So some 15 years ago now, he went under the knife. There were complications and he had to have his throat cauterized a couple weeks later. It was a rough time and he missed some school.

So one day, after he'd been back to school a few days he told me at breakfast, "I'm not going to school today!" We went through the usual threats, bribes etc. Still he refused and I wasn't big enough to make him go. I did get him into our light blue woody Chrysler van sometime that morning, and pulled up in front of St. Malachy School. He wouldn't get out and go in.

So I left him flopping around on the back seat putting his feet on the ceiling, and went in to cry on Principal John Walsh's shoulder. And cry I did! It was so frustrating and embarrassing. Then I took a short walk downtown. When I came back, I stuck my head into the van and he said, "Okay I'm ready to go in now." So he did, though school was over (it was only 1/2 day then) in about 30 minutes. Jud Goldsmith - the only kid to skip school as a kindergartner and not in high school (that I know of). *Note, he did have consequences for his actions of the day- lost episodes of GI Joe, or not being able to go play with friends.

Jud continued to be a strong willed child - causing Paul and me a great deal of angst and stress throughout his early childhood. By 10th grade, Jud became a much easier to deal with guy. Today, he's a very responsible college junior who is fun to be around. He's got a wonderful large group of friends at college and is getting good grades. I'm so proud he's our son!

So don't worry mother of yesterday's difficult child - chances are, ever without perfect parenting, he'll turn out fine!

Drinking the hatorade

I'd like to know - why the angst from conservatives over Obama getting the Nobel Peace Prize? That, along with the glee over Chicago not being selected for the Olympics, have got me wondering. Do some people really want America to go downhill just in order to prove Obama was a bad choice for pres?

And while I'm at it, do many people still not believe in global warming? While Gore is kind of a knucklehead, he is passionate about the environment. Even if you believe his case is overblown, can it hurt to stop putting so many emissions into our atmosphere? In our area there seems to be much more lung diseases than ever before – could pollution be some of the reason?

Why would it bother people that the international perception is that this new American President will bring peace. He didn't expect this award - it was a total shock. So is it his fault they chose him? And while I'm at it, was being considered a war-mongering country working really well for our country? At least compared to the past 8 years, many peoples of the world are willing to give our president a chance.

It’s really hard for me to get my mind around the negative mindset. While I did not agree with much of what Bush stood for and did, I don’t recall wishing bad things to happen to him and his administration. I would have been (grudgingly) pleased had he won this award – for our country! A leader in peacemaking. (I must admit I did enjoy laughing at stupid Bush clips on Letterman though….) and now Letterman can be his own patsy...

I don't want our country to be perceived as pansy - a pushover. But the blustery rhetoric and actions of the past administration got us into a war in Iraq. C'mon man, give peace and Obama a chance...

Soup and Sannie

Home on a cold icky day. Finally home! ON the way home, I figured out I've only been home something like 4 nights the past 3 weeks! I was homesick in a bad way. Even though we've been doing fun things, I miss my house and pets.

So I was excited to take off for home today, after a late lunch with my homey Deb. Deb treated herself to a new el carro (car) today! Yay for Deb who has driven a '97 Chrysler for the past 8 years (trade in value $250). Before that she drove a yellow Chevy Celebrity wagon literally into the ground (she got paid $40 salvage for it). Her old car needed to go. Deb nearly chickened out on the Honda Fit she had scoped out, but her husband urged her to go for it. Good job Larry!

So Deb came to visit me at work and to do lunch in the big city. It was such fun! Wish I could do that more often. I took her to visit my cubicle. Hmmm after budget news today, my cubicle could be empty soon - the Gov hacked 10% from the state budget. Not sure how that will shake out, but I'm a new kid and can't expect to be totally spared.

Anyway, Deb left around 2 PM and by 3 PM I was getting smokin' shoes. My shoes wanted to be smokin' towards home, and quickly! So I got here by 4:30, greeted by my pooch in a loving manner. Awww. I'm glad to be home!

It's been a while since I've cried

A book I read recently had a great quote describing a situation the female lead character was going through - "Just the normal stupidity of life in which sometimes it is necessary to cry." I like books that let us inside the character's inner thoughts like that.

That quote nails my usual reason to cry - just the little stupid stuff that sometimes adds up, building up a sort of pressure. Then, when the scale of life finally tips, I cry. Mostly it's at home, often when I'm in bed in the dark. I usually try to muffle it so I don't awaken any of the others. I mean Paul, Odie and Kitty. Though Odie and Paul can be good at consoling me.

Moki the wonder dog (1990-2004) was a great consoler. He mopped up a lot of tears during the my time of intense grief after Patrick's brief life. And when Mom died. Odie got mop up duty after Dad died. Hugs from my family always help too.

I do get teary eyed fairly frequently any more. Heck before I know it, I'll be like my dad, or worse yet, Diana McKim - crying over Hallmark commercials. Sometimes I think it's therapeutic to watch sad movies and cry. Movies can help those sad stupid little things adding up to bubble over, and you can those tears off your chest.

One time in college (according to Wiki it was 1975) my roomies (Sal, Jane, Vic) and I must have been feeling blue. We went to the movie theater at North Grand Mall to watch "Other Side of the Mountain - the Jill Kinmont Story." Jill was a potential Olympic skier in the 50's who suffered a ski accident in Utah. She was paralyzed from the neck down - at age 18. We went to this movie during a time that must have been quite stressful for each of us. All those tests, boy issues, which beer to drink. Anyway we all blubbered and came out puffy and red. Quite attractive! Then we went to a party and drank heavily.

One can't predict when the tears will come - just hope to God it's not at work. When I was younger, it seemed tears were much closer to the surface when it came to talking to my boss about emotional type things. God I hated that! It seems like such a sign of weakness, but I felt helpless to stop them.

I haven't cried at work in years (guess I'm a crusty old lady now), but when I worked at Gits (1995-1997), tears were necessary! Now that was a very stressful job. Good thing I had a nice quiet place in a corner of the parts room to head to when tears threatened.

At the landfill, I cried after my shouting match with the 240 pound 6'5" scary equipment operator. He got in my face and I got right back in his face, not crying until he left and I came to my senses. What was I thinking? That guy could have hurt me. I didn't cry after the little old lady scale operator kinda threatened me with her gun after we argued. "I have a gun in my purse and I know how to use it," she said. But I did kinda hyperventilate when I got back to my office.

No predictions on when tears will come again. Just that they will.

Good sheets and cereal

In in Waterloo, at day 2 of the trash conference. Staying at the Fairfield Inn, not the Ramada attached to the conference center. Why? That motel didn't have the $50 government rate, so I searched for a place that was and ended up here. It's not bad - a division of Marriott ya know.

And it has good sheets. Not an icky germ ridden comforter like lots of motels do. Extra pillows too. At the motel continental breakfast this a.m. I had Captain Crunch. Ah breakfast of champions. My mom was a sucker for kids asking for sugary cereal!

When we were really little, I remember eating soft-boiled eggs in a special egg cup. I got a black mark at Kindergarten (evil Mrs. Christiansen) for having egg on my face. Guess we were learning the skill of face washing. But when I got a little older, Betso and I mostly ate cereal for breakfast, while Mom smoked and did the NY Times Crossword puzzle at the table.

I'll loved all the sugary stuff. Sugar Smacks, Fruit Loops (not my fave), Corn Pops, Frosted Flakes, Cocoa Puffs and Cap'n Crunch (not with crunch berries though). Lucky Charms were good too. Then Count Chocula came out. I was a fool for that stuff - made the milk chocolaty good! We also liked Pop Tarts - my favorite was cinnamon, and Cream of Wheat with brown sugar in it.

Do you remember Carnation Instant Breakfast? I'd drink one of those AND eat breakfast. Hmmm somehow I didn't turn into a two ton tilly. Guess it was all that activity, since we only got the 3 channels on the boob tube.

Though I didn't smoke at the table, I did buy many of the sugary concoction cereals for my own kids. I know, bad mommy. Tomorrow I'm thinking of hitting the IHOP near my motel. I'm might have a waffle with chocolate chips and whip cream. Ummm just kidding - about the waffle. I'll get stuffed French Toast. Once a sweet freak...

Wow

Just realized I went over 200 posts yesterday. Hmm I'm thinking I should get an award for bein' so wordy...

I'm at my 13th annual Iowa Recycling and Solid Waste Conference. This year it's in Waterloo. Makes me think about that first one I attended. It was in Sioux City. About a month prior to the conference I went to a waste sort in Perry. Yeah, I know! I get to do all the fun stuff.

A waste sort is when people actually dig through loads of garbage to determine what the makeup is - how much is paper, food, metal etc. At the waste sort, I met a couple of cool women with whom I'm still friends today - Susan and Barb. (friendship longevity is something worth striving for...) Knowing the Union County Landfill Commission (my employer back then) was not rolling in dough, I made arrangements to room with Susan S. at that first conference in Sioux City.


Sleeping/rooming with people you don't know well is kinda weird. In fact sleeping with anyone is weird, because we all have our own little rituals. I'm happy to report that Susan and I got along quite famously. She (nor I) snored or made other strange nighttime noises. In fact we stayed up late chatting and getting to know each other. Susan is an awesome lady, very hardworking and thoughtful.

At the conference I hung out with Susan and Barb at breaks. They introduced me to another cool chicka - Pam. The four of us became fast friends (what does that mean? Do some people make slow friends?), meeting periodically to talk about recycling education, and our lives in general. The three of them were great mentors and peers to me, especially in those early years when I was struggling to figure out just what I was supposed to be doing in my new job as recycling educator.

Tomorrow I should see Susan and Pam. Alas Barb moved to Fort Dodge with her pastor hubbie - she was just a newlywed that first year in Sioux City. Barb is now working for Trees Forever, but she says she misses the trash world.

I like trash people. They are good people. Except for the dumb asses - there are a few of those. I plan to enjoy myself with the 150 trash folks tomorrow.

Belly Laughs

Just back from my power walk - deep thoughts regarding our weekend. Some of my convoluted thoughts:

1. The most fun part of the weekend for me was driving around KC in a Suburban filled with 12 peeps.

2. Dwight Conover provided the most amusing quip of the weekend when, drafted to be one of the "back floor sitters" in the ride, Dee said "I'm getting a cramp in my foot" and Dwight (also a back floor dweller) said so earnestly - "Do some kegels!"

3. For those of you who don't know, those are the pelvic floor exercises women are advised to do, but I'm not sure they do anything...

4. I laughed my ass off when he said it! Tears in the eyes laughing. I love to do that.

4.5 Marilyn levitated in the van, just like people from Fairfield. She was wedged into seat 3 very tightly.

5. The next most fun part was sitting in McKim's room watching football after the game, drinking beer and eating Bobbie's 50th bday cake. Marilyn wanted to get another chair to drag into the room and she dashed into 221 - unfortunately that was not the room of anyone in our group - much to the surprise of the family resting on the beds!

6. That too made me belly laugh.

7. Todd is a goofy funny guy when he is partaking of alcoholic bevvies.

8. Donnie remembered his skivvies. I saw 'em (neatly folded in his suitcase).