Ozark Mountain Feis

Well, after we finally arrived safe and sound, we had a feis the next day. I woke up super-early because we hadn't registered the night before and I wanted to scope the place out. It was still dark out, and I headed down to the convention center to find our area. There's this curved hallway with ballrooms on one side and a huge wall of windows on the other. It was completely silent except for white noise from the HVAC system, and I drifted along this hallway without seeing another person the whole way. It had a dream-like quality to it that matched the nightmare of the drive the night before. I took a photo of the view out our 11th floor window at 6:50 or so. It was snowy. Roads were still not clear:


Letting Maeve, Mike, and Leo sleep, I got Sophia up at 6:45 so she could not be rushed. She was ok at that hour, actually, and was happy for the croissants we'd remembered to bring. We had a suite at the hotel--sprang for it because I figured we'd actually eat there instead of going out. It was worth the extra money, and it paid off. We ate each meal in the hotel room at the kitchen table. Full fridge, microwave, sink, dishwasher--only missing a stove, but that was fine because we ate out of the fridge for the most part, with crockpot bean chili for dinner Saturday night.

I did her hair, which nowadays is a wig (but it totally fooled some other folk in the elevator, some non-feis people). We went downstairs to register. The woman at the table mentioned that their numbers had been decimated by the weather. Arkansas was under a state of emergency (which, can I just say, seems to happen way more often than it used to? Emergencies are emergencies, but it seems so drastic...or maybe it's losing its meaning). The sponsoring school, McCafferty, was missing a lot of their own volunteers and members. I can't imagine what this must have been like for them. For Sophia, it didn't change much for her day. There were, perhaps, 2 girls missing from her competition groups.

Anyway, we went back upstairs and and got her headband on and her dress. I thought to take a photo, which I usually forget to do until she's ripping her headband off after her last dance of the day. Too late then...
We went downstairs to practice with two girls for a 3-hand reel she was going to be in. Sophia's done plenty of 3-hands at shows but has never done one at a feis. I think one of the two other girls in her 3-hand had, in fact. Kind of inexperienced. There was another 3-hand group in her same age group, all novice dancers (meaning, the next step up from the majority of Sophia's dances' category) with way more experience. But they worked all together, the 6 of them, to practice and get things worked out. Sophia is usually a Left, and it looked like the three of them had decided she'd be a Right this time. Or something. Whatever. It all is a blur to me. Anyway, both of the other girls' moms assumed they'd come in second to the other team from our school--there was only one other team competing in their age group (remember, it's a small feis to begin with and then the storm...).

So they practiced and then were the second or third dance on their stage. They were cute, I will admit, and well-matched in height and appearance. And of course I'm Sophia's mom so I didn't care how they did, I thought they were lovely. Sophia came and sat down next to me afterward and said that she really liked dancing that one, that she wasn't so nervous in a group like that. I told her that even if they came in third, they were guaranteed to go home with a medal (which still means something to Sophia--she's not jaded, and 3rd out of 3 would still mean shiny things. I love this about her). She agreed, and went to practice with the other girls for their individual dances.

After the 3-hand, Sophia's next dance was the reel, which had a large field of competitors and she doesn't like the reel that much. We both knew it probably wouldn't pan out with a placement. But before the next dance, which was going to be her jig in the novice category (she placed last year in advanced beginner and so had to move up this January), which we also both knew wouldn't do anything for her award-wise, one of the girls from the 3-hand ran up to us.

"Sophia," she said, sort of breathless. "We got first. We got first in our 3-hand."

Sophia doesn't hide her thoughts very well--her face is very transparent. And you could tell she thought this girl must have it wrong.

"Are you sure it wasn't the other team from our school?" I asked.

"No," she said, grinning. "It had my name up there." (The 3-hand teams are named according to the girl in the center, but all 3 still place wherever they place).

So Sophia and I went back to check. And there it was. The other team from our school came in 3rd. We were dumbfounded. But very pleased.

And the best part? Not one of those three girls got snotty about it. They didn't rub it in or anything. They were happy for each other and moved on.

Sophia's jig was awkward, even as a lay person in the stands seeing it. But whatever. Her slip jig looked good, and her single jig looked even better. Mike, Maeve, and Leo came downstairs in time to see the single jig. While Sophia changed her shoes from the treble jig, Mike had his phone connected to my gmail page and there was a message from our school's director, that another family had wrecked their van on the way down the night before. I passed the phone to two other moms who were sitting with us, and I could read it on their faces the same thing I was feeling: that could have been us. That should have been us. There is no reason that wasn't us.

Everyone was ok from the accident, and they were picked up and brought back home to St. Louis, but it was hard to keep that in mind and still be happy for my daughter, you know? Every time I said it to someone, whether my mom or my mother-in-law or another parent there at the feis, I kept choking up. I had been so sick with adrenaline and worry and my heart going like mad the night before and playing head games with myself and trying not to burst into tears in front of my kids....anyway.

Sophia was taking her wig and headband off almost as she left the stage from the treble jig, as always. We got her stuff together and headed on back upstairs. Mike walked to the nearest grocery store and the girls got dressed to swim.
They were very, very impatient. Very. But Mike came back with lunch and I took them down to swim in the small but perfect for kids indoor pool. Leo voted to stay upstairs with Dad.
I lasted about an hour when the "IamsotiredI'vebeenupforever" feeling overcame me. It was when Sophia got bored with the pool and wanted to jump in the "hot pool" (whirlpool). So we got in the hot pool and bam. Hot water, bubbles, two kids, and I was toast. We dried off and came back upstairs. I volunteered to go back down and pick up Sophia's medal from the 3-hand and check, just to see, if she placed in anything else. I really wanted her to but I really didn't want to get her hopes up--there were between 6 and 8 dancers in each group and this feis was only recognizing the top 4 in each dance (our feis will give ribbons through 6th place, just for instance). I don't know how they decide this cut off--4th place, for instance, doesn't move you out of advanced beginner and into novice, but they still acknowledge you. But not 5th? At the Graham Feis last fall, we got Sophia's results online (after she didn't place in anything--but she was fine with that). She missed 4th place by .5 points in 3 dances (and by 10 points in another, but the .5 irritated me a lot).

So anyway, I went back downstairs and checked the Advanced Beginner wall. Nothing in reel. The novice wall I knew had nothing for jig. And then I couldn't find her slip or single jigs--the pages weren't up. I finally had to ask, and found they'd been misfiled in the Beginner section of the wall (they were taped up in the wrong spot, I mean). Nothing in slip jig (that was the dance she'd scored so badly on at Graham), but a 4th in single jig! I was so happy for her. I picked up the medals, had them engraved (we do this each time--I know not everyone does, but there is nothing more frustrating for me than to have a bunch of unmarked track and field ribbons in a box from high school and not know even what event I placed in, much less where and when), and took them back upstairs.

She was downright gleeful. I hope this never changes. I hope she doesn't get jaded by the process of dancing for points. Another one of the girls who danced in her 3-hand was also staying in the hotel (as was the entire other 3-hand team--these girls all dance together at shows and in class...I think a few of them are very competitive but for the most part everyone is nice). Her mom invited Sophia and Maeve to swim again and I decided that sounded like a fine plan. Mike took them this time while Leo and I sat in the hotel room enjoying bad cable TV and the big soft bed. Ah.

We ate dinner and the girls changed into pajamas after a long soak in the tub. They played, but didn't last long. It was very quiet in their room (on the hide-a-bed couch) early.

The moon rose.Here it is out our other window, looking down at a main drag through Branson. I haven't been to Branson since I was 12, but I have a feeling Saturday nights are usually more, well, hopping, than this was. But that was fine because I liked the desolate feel of the place, frankly.

So I didn't leave the hotel or convention center that was attached to it all day. Which was also fine. After the girls were asleep Mike and I finished off what was left of his birthday cake. Leo had some, and then a bath. Pajamas and bed.

I slept like a danged rock. I didn't get up this morning until 10. We packed up, had breakfast, and were on the road by 11:15. We got home at 4, and that includes stopping in Lebanon for lunch.

Overall, a lovely little feis. We'll go back next year, although I will pay closer attention to the weather beforehand and prepare better. Because my ten-on-Tuesday this week, you better believe it, will be 10 scariest road trips. No doubt about it, this one is number 1 or number 2 on that list. Oy.

we are here

Amen. Here we are. I have never felt so alive. Well, a bit of a hyperbole. But God bless my husband.

whoa

Well I am in the car. We are 25 miles from branson. The snow has been extreme. Mike is an awesome driver. I am writing on his snazzy new droid phone. I am no longer living in an exercise on. Abject terror. The road is still really bad but the traffic is way down. Irish dance feis tomorrow...I had no idea what the weather was going to be. Naive. Anywwayh, I will update when we are safe and sound!

This Week's Formula

g^(t+a)/(F + c^n) = H

g = how many girl activities involving transportation in the upcoming 24 hours (each separate trip, including school)
t = how many teeth are coming in on Leo
a = how many doses of acetaminophen (tylenol) Leo has received for his fever & teething in the past 24 hours

F = degrees temperature (Fahrenheit)
c = number of cars available
n = number of naps Leo has had in the past 24 hours that were not in a car

H = how crazy I am (the "Craysee Quotient")

Yesterday, H = 53. High but manageable. To put that into perspective, if it were mid-May, a Tuesday afternoon, no car trouble? On that kind of perfect day, with 2 naps, no teething, no tylenol, etc., H might be as low as 1/74 (or .0135135 repeating). Last week Thursday before the van died, H = 1.4545 repeating.

Today it is 744.

The good news about that is that two days ago, Tuesday? H = 38173

The best news? We found a very reasonable car at Enterprise. 43xxx miles on it, seats six. Not a minivan, but a Mazda 5. It will be the stop-gap vehicle. We can drive it with small kids but once kids would be big, it would not be comfortable for whichever child wound up in the third row. And at that point, if all goes well and it doesn't happen sooner, Mike's car will be about done. Then this one will be Mike's car and we'll get something big enough to transport the 5 of us at the same time. But for now, I'm really happy about this. We get it tomorrow. Which means tomorrow morning? Assuming Leo's teeth and headcold don't subside, we'll be talking H = 5.12. Ah.

Rip Van Winkle

The van is dead. Forever sleep.

We had it coming up for inspection this month. I made an appointment for Monday (tomorrow). And then I pumped up the tire that has a slow leak and went to the field trip at Carpenter Library. Which was awesome, by the way. I love libraries and I love older school children. Third-Fifth graders are so much better than taking a gaggle of preschoolers to the symphony. Just for an example.

Drove back to school to drop off the books (the kids and teachers had taken the Grand bus). Then, since Maeve was devastated that she was unable to take the Grand bus, I told her we could go get something to drink. She chose a shake from dairy queen, which was fine. So about a half hour later, I pull up again in front of school to pick Sophia up. Go inside. Get Sophia. Talk to one of her teachers for a few minutes. Go back out. Get in the van...everything seemed so normal.

I pulled out of the parking space just fine, but then the turn onto Spring was a little hard to maneuver. Hmmm. Pulled off the road for a second and restarted the engine. Sometimes that's all my van needs. Just start over. But no. The steering was impossible. Crap.

Out on Grand, it's a straight shot for 8 blocks and then a couple turns to get home. I coasted into the center lane and glanced at the dashboard. I was about to overheat. Why? What the heck happened? I yanked the van across the northbound lanes onto Sidney and watched the arrow move closer and closer to red.

"Ok girls, I'm going to get as far as I can and then we'll walk the rest of the way." The funny thing is, they didn't complain. "Ok," Sophia said. Maeve said nothing. No anxiety, no laziness. Maybe they can read it in my voice.

We made it a half block. Pulled over and turned off the engine. I thought maybe I could just turn on the electric and let the fan blow to help cool the engine, but thought better of that. If the power steering hadn't gone out, then maybe. But I was spooked by the chain of events and we hoofed it the mere 3 blocks home.

Called my mechanic. He knows my voice on the phone. Dangerous. "Sounds like the serpentine belt," he guessed. "Which isn't any big thing but..." He knows we want this van to limp along until May if we can, but he also knows we are not NOT NOT NOT going to sink any more major money into it to get it there. I already knew it needed tires and a new headlight and something was going on with the wiper system. Those would be needed to just pass inspection. But engine work? If it started creeping up into the mid-hundreds, he knew I wasn't going to play along.

I told him we'd call him if we decided to bring it in.

Then I called Mike and told him. He was vaguely pissed off about it. Not at me, not at our mechanic, not at anyone. Just mad. I wasn't mad--I knew this van and I knew it was a gamble to make it to May with 198,000 miles on it. I mean, seriously. A Chevy Venture?

I'm not mad. But I'm fearful. We really really really don't want to have to buy another van yet. Seriously. Maeve's preschool tuition ends in May and Leo's doesn't start until September 2012. We could get a nice start on a car payment. But I've got to be crazy. Mike's car just barely fits the three kids across the back (Leo's carseat, Maeve still has a booster--thank goodness Sophia wears slim jeans, you know?). And Mike does work. Which means quite a bit of bike commuting in my future. Patching that together with borrowing my mom's car a few days a week and carpooling and I already have a headache working it out.

But I'm not going to complain yet. I just switched the car seats out of the van and stuffed them into Mike's car so we can go to church in a few minutes. Maybe it'll work. Not sure if it'll work until late May but we're going to give it a shot.

Bento #6

Lunch for 3: tortilla chips with cheese, yogurt, berries, orange wedges, tomatoes, pecans

Leo Birthday Cake

Bento #5

Bento Breakfast for Maeve: toastmen, one with cinnamon sugar & butter, the other with peanut butter. Homemade applesauce and a few frozen blackberries leftover from summer.

Leo's Sour Cream Chocolate Cake

A warning: in my experience, the cake has always wound up flecked with chocolate. It would never be mistaken for a box cake or a cake from a bakery. Perhaps substituting the melted unsweetened chocolate with cocoa powder and butter would work, but I've never done that and don't know the substitution by heart. So my version is always flecked.

Oven 350. Grease and flour two 8 inch cake pans. I put circles of wax paper at the bottoms as well and never have a problem with sticking.

2 c flour
2 c sugar
1 1/4 t baking soda
1 t salt
1/2 t baking powder

sift together in medium bowl, set aside.

In mixer (or larger bowl):
1 c water
3/4 c sour cream
1/4 c shortening -- I always used butter but I was low yesterday and used, for the first time, butter flavor crisco. And it was the same.
1 t vanilla
2 eggs

Beat together. Melt 4 oz unsweetened chocolate cut into pieces. Let it cool a bit but not too much. drizzle into the wet mix while mixer is on. This is when things get flecked...but the more you beat it, the less flecked it will be.

Add dry ingredients. Blend until moist and then beat on high speed for 3 minutes. Pour into two cake pans. Bake at 350 for 30-40 minutes, cool 10 minutes, and then take out of pans. Cool completely on wire rack.

Then frosting!

In bowl, combine:
3 c powdered sugar
1/4 c sour cream
1/4 c butter (for this obviously I did use butter)
3 T milk
1 t vanilla
3 oz unsweetened chocolate, again, cut up, melted, and slightly cooled. Sometimes in the past I've had to substitute semi-sweet and it's been just fine.

Beat until smooth and spreadable. It will be a very light brown and when I make it, I usually add just a tad more milk and powdered sugar because we like icing.

Mmm.

Oblate-di Oblate-da Life Goes On

I just got a message from my oblate group (list serv? List server? Whatever). For those coming into the middle of the story, I'm an oblate with the Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration in Clyde, Missouri. Clyde? As Sister Shawn put it, it will soon be on "your better globes and maps." It's a tiny little town near Maryville, Missouri. Flat. Windy. Desolate and lovely. I went out there for the first time about 3 years ago, end of January, in the silence and bitter cold. I immediately fell in love with the oblate director and the spirit of the place. Remember, place is important to Benedictines-they take a vow of stability, to stay in one place. I live this out as best I can--it's the reason I was most drawn to Benedictine theology over other Christian schools of thought. Anyway, I've visited in all seasons. I've brought my husband, I've brought Rachel. I've gone alone.

I didn't go last year with a new baby and obligations. It wasn't my time. The last time I visited was October 2008. I'm still in regular contact with Jean Frances, the director of oblates. I was looking to go this fall to the "big" retreat--take the train to Kansas City in October and rent a car (there's a rental agency right across the street from the KC train station). Take Leo with me, which might have been a disaster but who knows? It would be enough to just be there.

So I got a message from this group sent by Jean Frances. The monastery is in the process of reconfiguring their living space. There is a nursing home on site but it's really only for alzheimer's patients--there isn't much of a place for those whose minds are clear but who can't take the steps anymore. The main building is huge and unlevel--each floor has steps between wings, the doors are sometimes narrow (or just heavy), the bathrooms aren't accessible. So they're taking down a third of the building and rebuilding the remainder.

Construction started slowly, but according to the message was now in full swing. So this spring, many of the sisters are heading to their other monasteries in Wyoming, Oklahoma, and Tucson. Some are staying, but will be moving into the guest houses during construction.

Many of us had planned to stay at the men's monastery a mile away at Conception Abbey in October if this was the case, but now, for whatever reason, this isn't an option. The message wasn't clear, but there was mention of keeping stress levels as low as possible during rehab. Which I can totally dig. Jean does say that we are welcome to come visit her for a few hours anytime. But I'm 6 hours away so I can't figure that this is the plan for me--there are many oblates who live nearby who could come and go easily.

So I'm not going to Clyde this year and suddenly I really really want to.

So I guess I'll focus on something else? Go somewhere else? Do something else? Thinking. Any thoughts?

A year ago today

At this point in the day, I already had the epidural. My head was surrounded by warm towels and I was working on some prime numbers in my head while I concentrated on breathing. At 7:47 in the morning, Leo was born and everyone mentioned how very very big he was. I wasn't lying, people, there's no more room here!

It was a good birth. I was awfully nervous and worried. And I was in a lot of pain afterwards and in those weird compression stockings and had way too many hospital bracelets on my arm. But I had a baby.

Happy Birthday Edward Leo Cassidy!

Another open letter to Sophia's school

Dear Sophia's School,

Many things have changed since my last open letter to you. The head of school was fired, the new school director (those are different positions) put things in place, the tone got better, many things improved. I know you are working hard to provide a great education to the children of the neighborhood, and in the classroom, you are fantastic.

I love Sophia's classroom. I love her teachers. I love the projects, the Montessori materials, the quirky bits of her personality that are allowed to flourish instead of being stamped out. I love that when school comes up at girl scout meetings, the girls who attend my parish school start complaining about school and how much they dislike having to go there, and the girls from our school sit with blank faces like they don't understand why someone would hate school.

I love that.

Well.

Tonight I hear that after a month of mysterious stalling, the director of the school has resigned for health reasons. The director of the school. And you still have no head of school. Now, I know this isn't totally your fault. There are, many wrinkles with starting up a new school. So be it. But what this means is that even though we've taken the time and effort to get the testing done for Sophia, there is essentially no one to do anything about that at school. No one official. And you've stopped answering my emails, which I can understand because you're so swamped with everything you have to do.

But I need you to be a school---------

...........
News just in.
...........

Thanks for getting back to me. I'm looking forward to our meeting. It's almost as if you're on my team again instead of some intangible Russian "they".*

Bridgett


*The Russian use of the word "they" was something I ran into in high school Russian. According to Mr. May, the Russians sometimes use the word "They" without any clear antecedent. As in "They built Novosibirsk over two months" or "They took Oleg away because he said too much." It's a term that worries me. I like transparency and School, you were starting to lack it. You were starting to become "they."

Ten on Tuesday: 10 Songs I'm Embarrassed to Like

Part of me thinks I shouldn't even post this. Truly. But I will. I'm trying to narrow the field and make sure I include important embarrassing tunes here. Because there would be more than 10, honestly.

1. Twilight Zone by Golden Earring (Where am I to go now that I've gone too far?)
2. Jump Around by House of Pain
3. Oh Sherry by Steve Perry (I reaalllly like this song...have you seen the video?)
4. Legend of a Cowgirl by Imani Coppola
5. Honky Cat by Elton John (I might be most embarrassed by this one)
6. One Night in Bangkok by Murray Head (I've liked this song since I was in 4th grade)
7. Age of Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine by the 5th Dimension (oh the seventies)
8. Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw? by Jimmy Buffett (But golly it's fun to sing)
9. Theme Song to the Jeffersons (my high school graduating class chose this as our theme song)
10. The Gambler by Kenny Rogers (yeah...)

No Time Toulouse!

(It's a pun).

Busy this weekend. Cleaning--like spring cleaning, not like washing the counters. There's a dresser in our living room that Mike's great-grandfather made long ago (duh) that has held fabric and craft supplies for a while. And it is always falling into disarray. For that reason, and because many of the items are repeated upstairs already in either the guest room (bias tape, thread, fabric, velcro, elastic) or in the girls' room (craft paint, sequins, glue), I cleaned it out today. The Value Village people were also coming by and I gathered up a ton of old clothes and junk from the basement for them. The house feels a bit lighter.

I have more to go do. But I wanted to quickly link to the wikipedia article for the song "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." Don't ask how I wound up there. I don't know. But the paragraph describing the plot in the song? And the remake list including such hits as "O diavolos katevike kato ston Holargo"? Good times.

My favorite quote from today

"There's not nearly as much poop on Joe Lieberman as I would have hoped."
--Mike, looking at the magazine page used as paper in the bottom of the birdcage.

Almost One

It's been a while since I gave a Leo update. How about "Seven Things I like about Leo" again?

1. He says CAT. Joyfully. Also some sort of parental reference (mamadadada), "nana" for banana, and I swear at Ann's house the other day: woof woof.

2. He loves to suck on things made of plush. Stuffed animals, minky dot fabric blankets, even terry cloth towels. He sucks on them and says goingoingoingoing.

3. Still the happiest baby ever. Flirts with the choir at church, flirts with Sophia's and Maeve's teachers, the neighbors, anyone.

4. He has started to realize the benefits of teeth instead of just being ashamed that they've ruined his beautiful mouth. He tears into bread and bits of other food now, just to try. He also has learned how to make a grinding sound with them! Fun!

5. He loves bathtime now.

6. He crawls on his toes. Butt in the air, faster than you'd figure. No steps yet, but why would he?

7. He likes what he likes. He's a big fan of bed. Of bananas. Of his green blanket (that's a first for my kids). Of cats. CAT! He has definite opinions and they do not vacillate. Which is nice, actually. He's no mystery.

And dang it he's cute.

Bento #4

That would be a bed of bibb lettuce topped with salami slivers and colby jack chunks. Two orange wedges, star-shaped cut out cucumbers, SOPHIA spelled out in carrots, and in the heart-shaped container, green olives and heart-shaped carrots. And a few radish slices for good measure.

Because something had to be cheerful today!

Bento #3

Spanish rice mixed with cheese to make sticky enough to roll into little balls. Guacamole salad and star-shaped cornbread chunks. On top of this, not pictured, is a thermos of leftover fajita meat, green peppers, and onions from the night before. I got it fire-hot before I put it in the thermos with the hope that it would stay warm enough to pour over the rice and make everything palatable temperature-wise. Sophia says it was a success. Everything was devoured. Maybe she does like cute well enough--the cornbread was leftover and crumbly!

Bento #2

Last Thursday was a snow day and so I didn't pack Sophia a cute lunch. I made a cute lunch at home--actually, Sophia made lunch and I set it up. I'm stretching the term here (bento) since it isn't packed, and really it's just on a cute plate with little dishes, but I'm going to count it regardless.

Maeve liked it. Those are seconds on quesadilla.

Here's Hoping

We're going to the Ozark Mountain Feis at the end of the month. It's in Branson. I know! You don't have to say anything! Anyway, I just checked the website where folks sign up. Sophia is dancing in the reel, light jig, single jig, slip jig, and treble jig (jig jig jig jig jig...next time she'll add hornpipe. Maybe even St. Patrick's Day (that's a dance in this case)). In all her dances but light jig, she's an advanced beginner. You must place 1, 2, or 3 to move out of advanced beginner. She did this in light jig last year, which means now that it is January, she is a novice (where it is very likely she will remain for a long, long, long time).

She's been to feiseanna (that would be the plural of feis /fesh/, pronounced /feshahnna/) where she's in a field of 10, 12, 15 girls. The last few we've been to, and we've only gone to St. Louis ones until this upcoming one, she does fair to middling. She doesn't like competition in the first place, although she likes shows. On top of that, she hasn't been dancing as long or as often as many of the girls. I try not to set her up--for instance, this coming feis is the first one where she will dance anything in hard shoes (treble jig). She is cautious. She likes to do well and doesn't like to try when she isn't sure.

When you are competing against 10 other girls and there's a single judge watching the same danged dance again and again (plus you dance in pairs), you really need to stand out to place. And that has not always been so. It's so funny. Sometimes she thinks she surely did well in the reel, for instance, but knows her light jig had mistakes. And then she places in the jig but not reel. Whatever. She's never thrown herself down on the ground and had a tantrum, she's never cried, she's always been ok. And this makes me more proud of her than anything else.

But.

I just checked the webpage listing her competition for this upcoming feis--not the names, just how many. Her reel has 9; her light jig (novice) has 5. All the others have a total of 7. Seven! Since I know from her results pages that she's fallen usually around the middle (or bottom of the top) when she doesn't place, I have great hope that she will do well in Branson. But I'm telling her nothing. Keeping her in the dark. Because even if she places 7th in everything (and 5th in light jig), we'll still have a weekend in a hotel room and cable TV and an indoor pool.

Ten on Tuesday: 10 good movies I've seen lately

Do I still get to see movies? Hmm. I guess this might be better titled "ten movies I've seen lately" because good or bad, there aren't that many.

1. Sherlock Holmes. Robert Downey Jr. is somehow become Gabriel Byrne.

This was not what I expected from a Sherlock Holmes movie. I did like the mental process part. But it was weird, sort of a Sherlock Holmes meets Steven Seagal.

2. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. This was a silly little kid movie that was actually really funny in parts. And Mr. T is one of the voices.

3. Night at the Museum II. Granted, I only watched 1/3 of it, but I am determined to go back and watch the rest--we netflixed it and the girls watched while I got the tree ready to decorate.

4. To Sir, With Love. I didn't like some of the changes from the book, and of course I was immensely frustrated with the ending but Sidney Poitier makes up for any of that.

5. Up the Down Staircase. This was very very true to the book and gritty and made me glad that when I taught in a dangerous school, it was an elementary one.

6. Lars and the Real Girl. Wow. This was a really good film and not what you think it's going to be like.

7. The Family Stone. Predictable romantic/family comedy/drama/fluff. My favorite genre. Extra fluffy.

8. Death at a Funeral. Awesome example of above genre. Being British helps. And Alan Tudyk.

9. The Importance of Being Earnest. Make a British drawing room comedy into a movie and you've got my attention. Talk about fluffy.

10. Ponyo. Any Miyazaki, any time. This one is different for having a male main character. I still love how normal adults are--not normal, really, but real. Grumpy old people, his mother is annoyed at his father and his job, etc. After the disaster people help each other out but there's an acute sense of post-disaster from a child's point of view. It's good.

I am not paid to say this

I love pandora.com. It's internet radio. You put in some things you like and it creates similar playlists. I love listening to things that are similar to what I like but not necessarily always the same or picked by me.

This last statement could begin with "I love knitting with yarn that is similar" or "I love quilting with fabric that is similar" or so many other permutations. I like what I like (as does Leo) but I love having my horizons broadened!

I really can't stay/but baby it's cold outside

It's the middle of the dang night. Mike's laptop needs to be banished from my room. It isn't easy to sit in our library in front of the five-foot wide window letting the cold cold wind blow in and type on the computer late into the night. It's easy in the summertime, maybe, but I'm getting so bed sounds like a good idea after I get Leo to sleep. Last fall, I would read to Maeve, and then nurse Leo down, and then read to Sophia. By the time I was done, I'd go to sleep 9 nights out of 10.

Christmas break, of course, ruined me. I got to sleep in and Mike held Leo a lot and life was easy. This week, too, has been easy with only the three school days. More snoozing and then staying up late. I started to worry that the thyroid medication was losing its edge, but I realized I wasn't sleepy and zoned sitting up late at night. I was unable to close my eyes. Insomnia. Never had it before. Not for real. So I eliminated the cozy nap with Leo in the late morning and cut the coffee off at noon. Sounded good, until Mike's laptop crept into bed with me last night. And of course I slept in today--a Saturday with no plans? No brainer there.

Tomorrow morning is early. Sophia goes to Atrium and I have to figure out what to do with children's liturgy. And tomorrow is long as well--we undecorate at church, at least a good start at it. Tomorrow could break the habit and get me back where I belong. But I have to say goodbye to the laptop.

Goodbye laptop.

Waaaaaah.

It's Not that Complicated

We saw "It's Complicated" last night. I like Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin and the premise sounded somewhat ludicrous but up my alley, you know, no death, no weepy goodbyes, no carving up the neighbors and storing them in your freezer and sharpening your front teeth to a point.

It was definitely geared to an older baby boomer crowd--Mike and I were the youngest in the theater. And we're also not divorced or live in a villa in California or run a bakery but you know, a movie about my life would not be something to go see (although the stories about the drug dealers on the corner and the FBI on my porch would be fun...). But we went to see it and that was all fine and good.

There were a few good things--Steve Martin was especially soft in this film, I mean, he wasn't the edgy Steve Martin of old, not annoying, more like how I like him to be, actually. But at one point, I had a moment. I stopped following the movie for just a second and dwelt in that moment. Jane (Streep) is standing in her gorgeous kitchen and Jake (Baldwin), her ex-husband, has just invited himself over to eat the leftovers from her date with Adam (Martin). Jane lets him hang out and get too close and personal, yeah, but the moment was when Jake starts talking about how great it is to be there in her kitchen. It's quiet. It's good food. It's Jane. Jane points out that he has a 5 year old at home (and an over-the-top crazy new wife Agness). Of course it isn't the same place at all.

What struck me was how he suddenly (sort of) realized what he was missing by leaving. Now, this marriage broke up due to infidelity and probably, from what I gathered, a total lack of communication skills on either spouse's part. He didn't hit her or the kids, he didn't give her a disease, he didn't snort cocaine on her kitchen counter and pimp out his daughters or anything outrageous. It is obvious that he's been at least loosely involved in his children's lives, and he and Jane had come to an amicable relationship in public. I frankly don't know many divorced couples like that--the ones I know involve violence and shockingly awful situations and guns and stealing the kids and lots and lots of drugs and alcohol and so forth. Sometimes divorce is what has to happen. But this one on film made me shake my head and think that with a slightly better start and more follow-through work, this marriage could have lasted.

And too bad that it didn't because the older couples I know who have had tension they've worked through don't seem to regret not getting divorced. I have an aunt and uncle who went through a lot to get where they are, just for instance. Life wasn't all hearts and flowers. But I think they're reasonably ok with how things are now. But anyway, Jake and Jane didn't stick it out and now each of them has his or her own life and on the surface that seems ok. It made me come to several realizations:

1. To begin with, this family obviously had means. They weren't living in rundown suburbs or city apartments. But once again, like we see all the time, money didn't save their marriage. And as a side note, being beautiful didn't allow Agness to keep hold of Jake very well either. Money and looks get you maybe so far but if that's all you got, it's not going to work well for long. As someone who doesn't have either in abundance, I know from experience. You need more to brave this world together as a pair, for real.

2. Skipping out? It means you don't accept the changes in your life or in yourself. You try to remain yourself at 24 and you'll only ever be a faded version of 24.

3. You can marry someone and divorce him but once the two of you have kids, you are intertwined forever.

4. But most of all, this is what I thought. In order to enjoy croque monsieurs and lavender honey ice cream in a silent beautiful kitchen with your spouse of many long decades, you actually have to be there for the many long decades. You can't leave to have a party and come back when it's easy again. You have to argue about money and go to the psychologists' offices for dyslexia testing and clean up the lead paint and go on vacations in a minivan and sit through PTA meetings and girl scout field trips and all her cockamamie plans and all his feet dragging. And then maybe you get those moments together again.

I know I am fortunate. I know every day. I know. But it's not all that complicated. It takes good choices and hope and work and a faith that it'll all be ok even if it isn't right now. The 'good choices' part of course is the biggest piece of the puzzle. Because I could have made some not so good ones. Sometimes I did; I just got lucky on the big ones. Maybe. Hmm.

Ruminating.

Snowballs are sort of like bullet points

It is really cold. St. Louis gets cold, but never for long. Just like it gets hot but never for long. Trust me people, we are not Minneapolis and we are not Houston. We are between.

I have the beginnings of cabin fever but not in a bad way. More in a cozy "I should clean this place" way. I still leave the house. I just don't drive right now. So, an update on life at Chez Wissinger:

*I have deconstructed my father's sweater. You know, the one I made for him last Christmas? Well, first the sleeves were too long. So I fixed it. Then it turns out? It's actually 6 inches too wide. Epic. Fail. He tried it on for me to prove it. Curious because while I was knitting it I kept measuring it against a sweater he wears all the time. Thing is, his original sweater was done in a light worsted and mine was an aran weight. And to top it off, mine is much heavier in the cabling department (his is an aran sweater, one of those you get at Irish import stores, but not nearly the same bulk as the one I made). So there's a lot of ease. Give. Whatever. Well, I think I've fixed the damned thing. Luckily it felts so easy and fast (a beautiful rich brown merino yumminess) that the moss stitch under the arms cut like fabric. I've zigged and zagged and re-hemmed and you know what? I know more about sweater construction now than I ever wanted to. I took it over to him last night to try on and now it is snug. My mother told him to lose 10 pounds. Which of course he will in about a week. But I have the sleeves to resew today and then I'm done. Made that sweater three times. It'd better fit now.

*Leo says cat and mama and da and I think he's decided that's all he needs.

*Girl Scout cookie sales: C minus 7 days, if C is for cookie, which of course, we all know it is. Good enough for me. But now the girl scouts have it "all online" meaning our tracking and reporting and whozits. I am not yet impressed.

*I think I know what I'm going to do when I grow up. Or, rather, when Leo starts full time school at 4 or 5. Yip. Still ruminating. Don't want to show my whole hand yet.

*It is the winter of food at our house. I made a chicken pot pie from scratch with turnips and carrots and celery and onion and oh my. I'm older now and my pie crust is better all the time. Venison stew, white beans and ham, mushroom onion risotto, cornbread, mmm. I'm going to whip together some cheater fudge (the marshmallow fluff kind) today so I can split it between several recipients including Maeve's preschool teacher who is addicted.

*It helps that my kitchen makes me very happy.

*Mike is determined to teach the bird to say "That's not a word" since her/his name is Scrabble. So far, he has managed to get her to move to a four-syllable incantation with the same cadence. But it's not clear yet. I had budgies/parakeets growing up who did say things, so I know it's possible.

*I let my girls play hooky on Friday but they are going Monday. Don't worry. And next week? Four day week--they're off on Friday again. And then MLK day and another 4 day week. I like this easing into the new year plan.

*I meet with the teach' on Monday to discuss modifications for the classroom. The director can't meet next week so we don't have a 504 plan yet and won't for a couple more weeks. Like I keep saying, now is not the problem. The future is the problem, whether at my parish school or another charter or whatever.

*We saw It's Complicated last night. That's a whole blog post coming later today. But after, we went to Dressel's Pub, which used to be one of our regular haunts. Before food arrived, I got up from our booth (paneled in old salvaged 5-panel doors like many pubs here, love it) and went across the room to view a large watercolor print/multimedia thing on paper that was inspirational. I don't know why I mention that but it made me want to create something. Anything.

*At Dressels: The food was decent--I had a beet salad (I know, I know) because I wanted to try pickled beets in a safe environment. Meaning, not my kitchen. Pickled beets, baby spinach, goat cheese, candied pecans, onions. Stick your face in, as Ann would say. I can now open the jar of pickled beets we got from the CSA without fear. And cheesecake with goat cheese--which was weird. It was like eating tamales at the Hinojosas after only ever having them out of a can. No--it wasn't that earth-shattering. But it made every other cheesecake taste like melted ice cream. This one had bite to it. Interesting.

*It is 8 degrees outside. Mike wants to take the girls somewhere to sled. Maybe I'll go and just stay in the car and knit. I've decided my sister Colleen with her bike and no car needs something tightly knit out of wool. With no cables or ease, of course.

*Today is the 3rd day of snow on the ground. It is supposed to melt tomorrow in my fantasy mah jongg world of St. Louis winters. But no. Wednesday's high is 42, though. That will be downright balmy.

Salvador Dali on "What's My Line?"

Thanks for this, Deloney.

A prayer for a snow day indeed

THE ACCUMULATION OF SNOW ON ROADWAYS COMBINED WITH REDUCED VISIBILITIES WILL MAKE TRAVEL DIFFICULT. STRONG AND GUSTY WINDS WILL RESULT IN SIGNIFICANT BLOWING AND DRIFTING OF SNOW AND REDUCED VISIBILITIES FOR A PROLONGED PERIOD OF TIME AFTER THE SNOW STOPS FALLING. THE STRONG WIND WILL ALSO RESULT IN DANGEROUSLY LOW WIND CHILLS... WITH VALUES FALLING TO BETWEEN 10 AND 20 BELOW ZERO BY THURSDAY NIGHT...AND UNDER THESE CONDITIONS FROSTBITE CAN OCCUR TO EXPOSED SKIN IN LESS THAN 30 MINUTES.
--National Weather Service

We listened to these words as I made dinner and fed Leo a banana this evening. The girls drank hot chocolate (Sophia even turned on the stove burner and measured out the powdered cocoa and the whole bit), quivering with the hope of a snow day.

I love snow days. My favorite? Six inches of wet snow on the ground perfect for sledding and snowmen and it's all gone in 3 days. My least favorite? Freezing rain and sleet landing on top of a crust of an inch or so of snow and sitting up late into the night listening to the branches crack and fall onto cars. But this, this is kind of different for me. The dry air, the blowing snow, the wind chills to literally freeze the nose off your face--this isn't St. Louis snow in my experience. Part of what's nice about living in St. Louis is that we don't have snow events like this, right? Or am I just lucky the past 17 years?

"Unless it radically changes and misses us somehow because we're in the city," I announce to my children as I chop onion, "you are not going to school tomorrow. I don't care if it's an official day off or not." They jumped up and cheered. And then immediately made plans to go sledding at Reservoir Park.

I shook my head. "If it turns out like it sounds, we are sitting in the living room sewing and watching movies and playing legos and staying warm. That's the sort of snow day it will be."

Maeve jumped up and cheered again--any change in routine makes her happy. Sophia looked a bit doubtful.

"Could we maybe go to friends' houses too?"

"Yes, if you're invited," I nod. Then she looked happy again. "It's just going to be bitterly cold," I explain. Then I have to explain what bitterly means "in this context."

We listened as the report came around again. I've never had frostbite or even the first stages of it. And I'm not going to start now. This is the year we don't reach our deductible on the health insurance, right? Those kids aren't going out to play in the blowing snow tomorrow unless the actualization of the weather report is far milder than this sounds. It'll still be there for days to come, frankly. We're not rising above 30 until next week. Eep.

Kitchen is done enough

We still need baseboards and I need to do some touch up painting (by the time I was finished Friday night I was so high I didn't realize I'd missed some spots, mostly on the window frame by the kitchen sink).

You probably already know, but my house? It was a boarding house. Not as damaged as some on this street, in this neighborhood, but some rooms suffered from neglect and some others were assaulted in a dark alley. My kitchen was of the latter group.

There aren't many pictures from when we moved in--I was busy taking pictures of things like the roof and the basement and creepy things--but here are two. Click on them to read the text.


Over the years, we changed things--we immediately replaced the refrigerator, for instance. The grody stove died and we took out the L-shaped island that made our 10'x14' room into a galley kitchen. We replaced the stove with a Frigidaire Flair from the 1960s (I love my stove). We took some cabinets out, replaced handles, took handles off. We painted, we took out the paneling, we replaced the floor. We stripped the doors and refinished them (they are the best ones I've done). And so here it is now with new paint and new floor and less counter space and a new (to me) table with a formica top!

To begin with, here is the new kitchen showing where the old island would have been. Can I say ICK any louder?
And as you enter the room from the middle hallway, this is the view. In front of you is the side of the stove, and beyond that, the back door and the window above the sink. I've painted stripes on the pecan-stained cabinets (which are actually really good cabinets, solid wood, custom built, etc., which is a shame because they are so nauseatingly ugly and I have a problem with getting rid of sturdy objects in good shape...so I painted them). Note the lack of microwave next to the fridge--that's where the coffeemaker and toaster live now. The microwave is below on the counter that was too runty to be useful otherwise.

At the same door, turning to the left. That's a window (another window) with shelves. The window faces my neighbor's house, a mere 5 feet away, and it is frosted glass. So I stash things I use there.

My new old table. Its leaves pull out from the sides. It has a drawer. It has a formica top. I love it. And, a good look at the floor pattern.

A better look at the floor pattern.

And finally, Standing in the kitchen looking at the stove, the wall, the pot rack (that is ancient in terms of our living in the house--we put that up early, made of copper pipe), and the view out into the hallway again.

Bento #1

For Maeve, I'm attempting hot lunch bentos because she is all about the visual appeal. Sophia, however, is about texture and flavor. There is no pretty picture or neat arrangement that could get her to eat radishes happily, for instance, while if they're cut into moons and stars Maeve will gobble them up.

So I'm stuck with limited ingredients (and time in the morning) for Sophia, and no way of heating anything up at school. Many attempts this year will be thermos-of-leftovers with a snack box on the side with chopped up veggies, fruit, crackers, etc. I told her I'm going to try to do 2 a week this semester, just to get my feet wet, and the other three days will be more basic lunch fare--although we do wind up doing a lot of thermos-of-leftovers every day in the wintertime.

As bentos go, this is not the most healthy...rest assured she had an apple on the side and she does eat well. But in a plastic container, separated with silicone baking cups, she has crackers, a whole carrot cut into wedges, a vegetable cream cheese spread for the crackers and carrots, and a bit of caramel popcorn leftover from Christmas. I placed a plastic baby spoon diagonally across the crackers and popcorn to help stabilize everything, although the lid to the large container did come quite close to doing that for me. Placed in the bottom of her lunchbox with a coldpack underneath and an apple on top! They drink water at school when I don't pack something else, which is just fine with me. I think it was a fine start.

Ten on Tuesday: 10 things I'm looking forward to in 2010

1. Leo's first birthday, first steps, first words

2. Maeve's anniversary of seizure-free holding my breath

3. Going to Rock Eddy in April

4. Pete and Kaylen's wedding

5. Going camping with the scouts in the spring and maybe again in the fall

6. Starting, or helping to start, a daisy troop for Maeve's class

7. Big happy news in all forms from anyone

8. I've started a new blog. In case you didn't notice yet

9. It not being 2009 anymore. Seriously.

10. Snow. Spring rain. Daffodils. Maplewood pool. Tomatoes. Fireflies. Orange leaves. More snow. Maybe?

A few open letters for Julie

Julie likes my open letters to people or entities unlikely to respond. I like them too, so I thought maybe I'd give it another try.

1. Dear Marmoleum. You make beautiful floors. The smooth linoleum finish, the eco-friendly ingredients, the colors! Oh, the colors! My kitchen floor looks like something out of a magazine now. But just for the future, when you write the instructions (helpful, in 5 different languages), you might include more helpful icons with each photo instead of the same "Click!" icon above each unlabeled photo of a man lifting pieces of tile. We know it clicks. We know it's easy. We just needed maybe a little more information and a bit less advertisement in the instruction manual. But again, kudos to you and my lovely kitchen floor.

2. Dear Blackjack, I'd like to introduce you formally to our new parakeet Scrabble. She lives in a cage. A cage that requires either extreme luck or thumbs to open. Knocking the cage over does nothing but traumatize the bird--which may be your goal, granted, but will not help you gain entrance. Also please note that parakeets weigh about -2 ounces. They are all feathers and bones. Please disable your bloodlust.

3. Dear Leo, you are so cute in hats. Why won't you wear them? You even pull them off in your sleep. You can't know how much warmer you would be if you just kept the hat on. Please. It's January.

4. Dear Wal*Mart, there are so many things I have to tell you! I could fill a blog with my words to you. All our good times together back in Texas. And some of the not-so-good times, of course, which is why we broke up so many years ago. But for now, all I have to say is that I have 2 $15 gift cards from Christmas. My daughters received them. I am giving them cash equivalents for them to use wherever, but then I will have $30 (yes, as a former cashier I can do that math) to spend with you. I'm thinking I will stock up on toothpaste. Perhaps toilet paper. Please make this easy for me. I won't stay long. Please do not punish me for the time we've been apart. Please don't play any of your passive-aggressive new low price games with me. I just want the toiletries and then I'll leave you alone.

5. Dear Maeve, this is Mom. I just want you to know that life is a lot easier if you brush your hair most than once every two days. It's one of those tips for living that comes with experience. Mom sometimes does know best.

6. Dear Guest Room, what the hell is your problem? Why can't you take care of yourself, anyway? You are such a slob! There's not a single reason why you're in the state you're in. Maybe just poor self esteem? Depressed? Maybe it's the weather. But whatever it was, this is your notice. It is time to get your act together and clean yourself up, or you're out of here. I can see you from my room. I know what you're up to.

7. Dear Christmas Season, I really need you to move on out. It's hard, I know, to make the break after so long together, such a lovely time. I'll miss you. We all will. But it's just not working anymore. It's not you--it's me. Really. Maybe if we just took a break, a few months, maybe almost a year? I just need some time. Alone.

Saturday Night Wonders

Things I wonder about this evening as my whole family sleeps and I can't because I'm still too cold...

I wonder if Leo knows he's a boy. Or, more specifically, that he and Mike are both boys and that boys are different somehow from girls. He LOVES Mike. I'm ok, but MIKE IS HIS FAVORITE. And he loves men's voices. The girls were not this way.

I wonder if the cats will eventually risk life and limb to attack the bird cage and then, of course, fail to get the cage open and actually eat the bird.

I wonder if our stray is ok. I saw him Friday evening but not since. It was damned cold today.

I wonder if Mike and I will manage to get the kitchen floor down tomorrow. I wonder how we will accomplish it with the kids invading.

I wonder if I will ever get my room clean again. It is the Dorian Gray of my whole house. The rest of the house is clean because my room is not.

I wonder if the BBC will prove smarter than Fox or HBO. Just in general.

I wonder if I can get the February Lady Sweater done in time for February.

I wonder if I will finish the book club book by tomorrow evening. Actually, I don't wonder about that. I left it at home while I went to Cairo for Christmas and, thus, my free time this month was taken and it will not get done. Hmm.

I wonder why Leo has decided to wake just now. Dang babies.

Happy New Year!

Here we are in 2010. I started the new year well, with a cup of bourbon slush and friends at Janine and Steve's house down the way. We have now been together so long that we were filling in the new neighbors on our most entertaining stories. It's funny, but pleasant moments spent with friends make for dull blog entries. Or maybe I've just been in crisis--major and minor--mode too long to make cozy friendly evenings interesting.

In other news:
*We got a bird. Her name is Scrabble. She is a blue parakeet with a yellow face. She has been traumatized by Jack knocking her cage onto the floor last night, but now she lives in the library hung from a racket low enough to interact enough but high enough Jack is deterred. For now.

*I shot a gun. It was an air rifle belonging to my father-in-law. I could develop a taste for this activity quickly. Sophia also participated in this target practice, and we even let Maeve shoot it a couple times. I was pleasantly surprised at being rather good. I'm ready to move up to more difficult tasks.

*The kitchen is now finally ready for the new floor. Did I mention it was a hectic lousy year? Anyway, the rest of the beadboard is going to be painted this evening, thanks to yours truly, and then Mike will get on all that tomorrow.

*I finally sucked it up and stood on the scale this afternoon post-shower. I figured, it's the new year. It's time to get moving. Well, it confirmed my suspicions about my loose jeans--I'm at a happy starting place. My goal for 2010 is 40 pounds, which is something I've done before without a problem (in that time frame, I mean). So here goes.

*What do my dreams want? Lots of standing in line, forgetting to take a number, arguing with strangers. Hmm.

*I am ready for school to start again Monday. I have so much to tell them about Sophia and frankly, I need a break.

*Tonight Mike's brothers and a few other folks are coming by to play dorky games (like Lord of the Rings Risk. Dorky games). I'd better get down there and be social.

Happy New Year!