A.C.R.O.N.Y.M.S.

Actively Collected Really Ominous Names You Must Say...

Happy Birthday to me,
I'm not 103!
I eat cake for breakfast
And write blogs for thee.

Heh-heh-heh.

I am 46 today. GrammaJ asked me if I feel older. The truth is, not really. In fact, in some ways I feel younger (and groovier) than ever.

Perhaps it's because of my Groovy birthday I-pod:



Mulletman had the I-pod engraved with my "real" name and - get this - with "Groovy Old Lady"!! How could I feel old with that on the back!

Maybe I still feel young because I have 2 YOUNG children in my house. Because I had them later in life, I get to spend alot of time with mom's who are young enough to ALSO be my children. Tee-hee-hee!

Or maybe I still feel relatively young because of our new family passion... I hinted to you all in this post that we had a new infatuation, but I never told anyone except for Notcon4med what it was. I told her because she's my very, very good friend. And because she's nosy. ;)



Our family is just beginning to venture into the world of Search and Rescue, heretofore referred to as S.A.R. I have a sweet redneck friend, henceforth to be known as L.S. who is right into SAR and wilderness rescue and wilderness survival and hunting (she even designed her new bathroom so 2 family members can simultaneously hunt out of the bathroom windows. Yes, we're talking SERIOUS redneck!) She makes natural medicinals (her elderberry syrup is incredible!) and can recognize every edible wild plant in New England.

It was about 2 years ago that L.S. started pestering me to join her in some of her crazy outdoor adventures. I had to say "no" because, while I find the topic utterly fascinating, I know that pursuits of that sort take a great deal of time and education (classes and field work) and physical strength. There's no way I could commit to something like that without Mulletman's total support. I figured that would be a bust since he's not very keen on me investing too heavily in activities that consistantly take me away from him and the girlies (and rightly so!)

So, let's take a man who feels trapped in his job and life circumstances (ie. taking care of three parents who moved up here to be with us - bless their hearts) and a groovy old lady with a yen for adventure and couple that with an off hand invitation to attend a potluck dinner and MidCoast Rescue SAR (MCRSAR) meeting an hour away in some podunk town we'd never heard of...

Groovy: Honey, L.S. has invited to go to a SAR supper and meeting on Friday night in a remarkably tiny town in the middle of nowhere.

Mulletman: What's it all about?

Groovy: I have no idea.

Mulletman: What would we do with girls?

Groovy: L.S. says we can bring them.

Mulletman: You wanna go?

Groovy:: I think I do.

Mulletman: OK


OK????????

And so we went. And we felt totally lost. Everyone there were wearing these official looking fire/police type shirts and, while L.S. went out of her gregarious redneck way to introduce us to everyone, only a couple of people spoke to us. Then came "the meeting". It turned out to be a business meeting! I had dragged my poor, unsuspecting family to a business meeting for some group we knew nothing about! Aaaaaack!

But we stayed. And to my surprise, Girly-Girl seemed completely absorbed. (Silly-Head, not so much - she just colored on paper plates and sighed alot.) We were trying to follow the acronym laden conversation and she just seemed to be soaking at all in. Suddenly she scooched over close to me, "Mom, do you REALLY think we could take the helicopter rescue training?"

So I asked and...YES, she could. Obviously she wouldn't get a jumpsuit and be allowed to fly on real rescue missions, but she and Silly-Head could indeed join us for all the training. They could accompany us for BASAR (Basic SAR) and be pre-trained for MASAR (Maine SAR). Presumably they'd also be qualified for NASAR (National Search and Rescue). In other words, they can learn first aid, field navigation, field nutrition, air rescue (helicopters and rapelling! Woot!), sea rescue: Anything we learn, they can learn too (within reason). Then, when an actual "incident" occurs, our junior rescuers stay at our field headquarters (HQ) and provide Rescue Support (R.S.). ie. Set up tents, cook food, give back rubs, run errands - anything a tired searcher needs to recoup.

Well, if Girly-Girl is excited about it, then Mulletman is too. He's an RN (registered nurse) looking for a little bit of excitement. What could be more exciting than searching for a lost child in the Maine woods in Winter? Or looking for a lost, hypothermic hunter? Or assisting FEMA in dealing with an "incident" or disaster. Or rescuing a cat from atop a tree. Or locating that hidden chocolate in my freezer. The possibilities are literally endless!

Even better, I just found out that the unit we met with out in Podunk is going to start a sister unit much closer. So now we're waiting for the next BASAR course to cycle around so Mulletman and the girls and I can learn how to navigate the Maine woods at night in the winter. Heh-heh-heh.

In the meantime, I am taking my first certification course to work with FEMA ( Federal Emergency Management Agency). I'm putting in about 10 hours studying the ICS (Incident Command Sysytem) for NIMS (National Incident Management System). Thus far I've learned how to file an IAP (incident Action Plan) and how to speak "in plain, common language without (*snort*) codes". This part is rather dull, but I have a feeling I'm going to like taking EMS classes and GPS nav courses. Then there's the physical fitness part - You gotta be tough as nails to carry a 25+ pound pack through the woods and in the mountains! And...after looking over the FEMA website, I'm estimating that we'll have to master about, oh, 897,000 other acronyms and codes before we're done. ;)

Be assured that as we progress, I'll keep you posted. I just heard a rumor that we may be sleeping in the winter woods one night next month. Maybe I'd better dig out my LLBean coupons and purchase some cold weather SAR gear!!!

While you're waiting for an update, you read more about SAR on this awesome Squidoo lens. There's lots of very groovy info here too.

And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way, we can convince Mulletman that we need a dog...(Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!)


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And finally, for one of the best birthday presents ever, my dear internet friend, Grandma Dawn, and her husband are coming to stay with us this Thursday! Their son is temporarily living here in Maine, so they have an excuse to stay with us for a couple of days!

Hurrah!

Here's to keeping busy and staying young!

"We" Think "We" Need Some Help!

Why does a woman who lives in a teeny tiny apartment and who has poor balance and trips easily and who doesn't see well want to cover her floor with throw rugs? LOTS of throw rugs? As in TEN little, annoying rugs in her miniscule kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Why? She can't even pick them up to shake them - her hands and arms are too weak. So when they're dirty, she rolls them up until I come to visit so I can shake them for her. This means that her floor is littered with carpet rolls and throw rugs all the time. It's a messy, cluttery tripping hazard!

Even worse, she was getting back and hip pain from standing in her kitchen and/or bathroom. Her apartment (actually a small duplex) is on a cement slab and I will concede that is/was hard on the feet. We looked into those nice, nifty anti-fatigue floor mats for the kitchen. Unfortunately, they were outrageously priced!

So she got a great idea of what "we" should do instead; she we headed over to Marden's to buy several exercise mats. She We cut them with scissors to fit the itty-bitty space in front of the bathroom sink. Then she we cut them and glued them in layers to put in front of the stove and the sink in the kitchen. Then she we decided she we also wanted a double layer of the mats glued atop one another and then taped together ("we" kid you not) to cover the little bit of open space on the living room floor. Last of all, she we covered all these cut and glued mats with - you guessed it -throw rugs, none of which match. Then she we threw down throw rugs between the throw rugs to help, you know, bring it all together.

Or something.

Ah, but it didn't end there. "Our" chiropractor (bless his kind and thoughtful *sigh* heart) remembered her us mentioning the need for some padding in her kitchen to ease the hip/back discomfort he was treating. Being a very generous fellow, he went out to Agway and bought her a cushioning mat. A VERY HEAVY cushioning mat that's meant to be used in a horse stable. He and his wife actually drove to her home and delivered it to her personally. Then he told her she we needed to go buy more of them at Agway.

So, to Agway we went. And she we bought two more for the kitchen. Never mind that we'd already spent a great deal of time, effort and materials custom making mats...

However, none of that hard work went to waste because she decided that she we would put the new HEAVY mats right on top of the old ones! Then it would be thicker! and softer! oh boy! And "we" could duct tape them together so they don't slide! and cover them with throw rugs!

Never mind that they're impossible to clean. Never mind that all the mats and rugs together means "we" have to step up 2 inches to get into the kitchen. Never mind that the mats don't completely cover the floor so that there are high places and low places - serious tripping hazards - all in a very small space. Never mind that the throw rugs slide around.

Uh-oh.

"We" can't have sliding throw rugs, can we? After all that would look tacky. So She we decided we needed to go to the Mart and invest in a bazillion rolls of that no-skid stuff. Then she we got to cut it into pieces and, joy of joys-->

- Pick up each and every throw rug,
- Pick up the HEAVY rubber horse mats (I did mention that they are HEAVY, didn't I??? AND that they're duct taped together???? AHahahahahahahaha!!)
- Pick up all the time consuming, cobby, taped-and-glued together exercise mats,
- Put all the above outside in the yard because there's NO ROOM for them inside
- Ah heck, "we" might as well clean the floor while we have the chance...
- Now "we'll" put down some of the pieces of no-skid
- Then the exercise mats (and "we'll" tape them together so they don't slide)
- Then more no-skid
- Then the HEAVY rubber horse mats (We're talking HEAVY here!)
- Then MORE no-skid
- Then "we" throw the throw rugs

All done, right? No way. The standard silver duct tape looks tacky, so "we" go buy some black - it will blend in better. Oh hey, while "we're" down on the floor redoing the duct tape, "we" might as well clean, right? Of course, right!

But wait. There are still problems with 2 of the throw rugs sliding aorund in the kitchen. Maybe if "we" sew some "velcron" (ie. "velcro" in GrammaJ lingo) strips to hold the two rugs together, they won't shift as much. Oh hey, while "we're" down on the floor sewing "velcron", "we" might as well clean, right? Of course, right!

I think "we" are taking co-dependency to new heights! My next post may very well be about the secret charity baskets "we" are making for people...

Or maybe about the the things "we" need to buy to decorate her already cluttered apartment.

Or perhaps about the trips "we" should take or the people "we" should talk to or the perfect church "we" should be attending or the folks "we" should invite over for the holidays.

OK, "we" have alot to do today so I think "we'll" sign off for now.

Until next time this is Groovy (and, apparently, GrammaJ).

Invasion!

I have friends all over the world. And don't they LOVE to regale me with dramatic stories of invasions by exotic and dangerous critters. I've heard tales of spiders the size of dinner plates in Haiti. Large, poisonous snakes in a house in Botswana. Varieties of voracious ants in Tanzania. Cake stealing ants in Guam. Camel spiders in Iraq. Malaria laden mosquitoes just about everywhere. Big Machete weilding robbers in Swaziland. Scorpions in Texas. Bedbugs in Russia. You name it, I've heard about it: Fleas, lice, parastitc worms - the whole lot of 'em.

Well folks, I'll have you know that Maine is no place to come if you want relief from wild and creepy dangers. We have blackflies that will either suck you dry or make you totally insane. We have mosquitoes that carry Equine Encephalitis and West Nile Virus, We have ticks that carry Lyme Disease. We have garter snakes that hide in cars and terrify men with mullets. We have evil woodpeckers of destruction. And we have abundant deer, moose, and turkey populations that will randomly leap out in front of your vehicle and try to make you and your loved ones into a road casualty statistic.

Oh yes, we have all that and more. This week, in fact, things turned quite ugly and war was declared when I saw one of these evil denizens of doom:



What? You would never dream of considering an adorable aphid eating ladybug an enemy? Well, neither would I until I followed the little fellow into our livingroom and saw dozens of them. DOZENS of dozens of them!



They were on the walls, on the ceiling, on the windows, on the curtains, on the door. They were making little adventurous excursions into the bedrooms and upstairs to the music room and guest room. They were hovering around the light and, after a few moments, landing on my shirt and neck and hair.

Oh yes, they were.

Little bugs. EVERYWHERE!

Now, in general, I love ladybugs as much as anyone. They are pretty (for a bug) and I know that they are a boon to the garden. I've even cheered for them as they ate the apids on my sunflowers. But this. was. INSANE. They were trying to take over!!

I hollered for my husband. He came in and said, "Wow, that's a buncha ladybugs. You want me to get you the ShopVac?"

[IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: That's not what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to say, "Don't worry, Dear. I'll take care of this!" Then he was supposed to rush to my rescue. Yeah...]

So he brought me the ShopVac and I started vacuuming. And I vacuumed and vacuumed and vacuumed AND VACUUMED! (Why does the word "vacuum" have 2 U's in a row?)

[ANOTHER IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: Ok admit it, some of you are horrified that I would suck such cute, adorable and beneficial insects into the oblivion of the vacuum's interior. Look at it this way - BETTER THEM THAN ME! No, seriously. I have no aphids on my houseplants. None. In other words, I have no food for a ladybug in my home. They all would have starved to death. So think of it as a mercy killing. I was putting them out of my their misery!]

I took the curtains down and shook them and vacuumed them. I vacuumed furniture and walls and ceilings and lights and my jacket and Silly-Head (she got in my way). And yet they kept coming. The more I vacuumed, the more there seemed to be.

Especially at the top of the door.

That's when I noticed that seal around the front door was woefully inadequate. We've been working on the house all stinkin' summer long and one of the tasks yet to be completed is replacing that seal. (One that needs to be done soon considering that the heat is on and THE LADYBUGS ARE COMING IN and all.)

I hollered for my husband. He came in and said, "Yeah, I need to pick up a seal from the store sometime."

[IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: That's not what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to immediately cry out, "Alas! I have failed! I should have taken care of that sooner! Please forgive me!!" Then he was supposed to come up with a swift and sure temporary way to seal the openings around the door and stem the invasion. Yeah...]

So I got out some masking tape and took care of it.




Problem solved! Now all I had to do was mercilessly hunt down the stragglers and Vroooooom, they were gone too. Next, I took Mr. ShopVac outside. I was going to - kind person that I am - let the little buggies go now that I had blocked their entrance to my home. Alas, they apparently all choked to death on all the flotsam and jetsam of the Vac's innards. 'Cause, honey, they weren't moving!

So I dumped out the Vac, rinsed it, cleaned the nasty, NASTY filter, and set it all out in the sun to dry.

Mulletman was so pleased! He said after it all dried he buff it up with some ArmorAll and life would be beautiful!

I was just glad the invasion was over. And, let's not forget that many insect species consider us the invaders...


Heh-heh-heh!

I'm Feeling oh so Flexxedededed

Yep...feelin' groooooooooovy.

The chiropractor (no, I didn't kill him - yet) tried his darndest, but couldn't "fix" my neck and shoulder issues, so he, being the conscientious fellow he is, sent me for neck x-rays. It appears I have cervical stenosis and some bone spurs. Sounds horrid, but isn't really uncommon at my age. Nonetheless, Dr. Bob told me it was time to go see my primary care physician.

That's a tricky proposition. In name and on important medical forms my PCP is Dr. D. Presumably he's been our family doctor for the past 3 years or so. I say "presumably" because in reality we've never met him, let alone had an appointment with him. When we started going to the clinic several years ago, we DID have a doctor (and we loved him dearly!), but when he moved on to a different type of medicine we were left with 2 nurse practitioners and an invisible doctor. My favorite NP is Reena who is about 4'8" and is from India. She has a beautiful smile and a wonderful manner. And (confession time) it's very entertaining to watch her climb on a footstool to be able to reach my chest to hear my heart. ;)

Accordingly, I went to see Reena. She looked at the x-ray report and did lots of poking and prying and asked a bunch of nosy questions. Then she declared, "Muscle relaxers and physical therapy; and when are you due for another colonoscopy?"

A colonoscopy will not help my neck pain, so I let that one go unanswered...

To make a long boring story into a shorter and yet still amazingly boring story: She gave me fleril flurixo falorix flexoril to take twice a week hour lifetime day and I set up a terapy appointment for Thuesday.

At least I think I set up a therapy appointment. I can't tell for sure because I'm "flexxed".
Or am I? I can't remememember if I took the pill or not. I though I did right after breakfast, but how can I be sewer sugar stere sure?

Oh well, it's so latte latter late in the day now that I shewd prolly wait til bad bid bod bedtime to take another wun one.

Some Lessons You Just Have to Learn the Hard Way

As most of you know, my hubby and I are homeschooling our two little girlies. We also homeschooled our two grown children way back in the day.

In addition to scholastic knowledge, we have also striven to teach our children life skills like managing money, making wise purchases, how to care for a home and how to cook. Unfortunately, it appears that some of these lessons didn't "take", if you know what I mean. This is because adult children stubbornly insist on learning things the hard way.

Take Funsocksgirl, for instance. She managed to learn to do a bit of baking, but most of the rest of our cooking lessons seemed to...............well, here. See for yourself.

Here's a slightly edited portion of an email she just sent me:

My brother-in-law and wife gave us some of the venison from their freezer (he got two deer last year) so on a day i can't remember in the not-so-distant past i decided to make some of it up and we had dad over for dinner (mom is in colorado with her sister). i learned some new things about meat which grossed me out and shocked me greatly. for instance, thawed venison is bloody. oh my gosh, i almost threw up...it was gross, sitting there in its own bloody pool and i hadn't even unwrapped or touched it yet. with plastic baggies on my hands i freed it from the paper it was wrapped in, only gagging twice as i threw the dripping bloody paper in a bag. then i had to cut it up some, which i did carefully while looking in another direction. the cuts were sloppy, but i still have all my fingers. i would just like to say again how gross and unnecessary all that blood was. how dare it bleed so profusely! it had been dead and frozen for a long time, which in my mind meant that all of the blood should have magically disappeared.

then i used the broiler. first off i didn't know we had a broiler and i surely didn't know what it was. secondly it took me a while to figure out which pan we had was actually a 'broiler pan'. (that betty crocker cookbook is sooo handy at explaining things) so finally i slabbed some gross chunks of raw venison on the broiler pan and broiled away. this led to another shocking discovery: meat shrinks when you cook it. what?! i've somehow missed that completely during other cooking ventures and was quite disappointed. i mean, i thought i had enough meat in the first place, but now it was all shrunk down and looked like not nearly enough...but it was. we chowed on mr. deer with lemon/green onion/parsely/pepper butter like betty crocker told me to make and it was surprisingly (for me) quite tasty and not a disaster.

It was her first big meat adventure and I'm so proud of her for pulling it off with edible results. Sometimes the school of life really pays off! :-D

What? Why Didn't Somebody Tell Me That Today Was/Is a Holiday???

Several days ago I decided that today was absolutely going to be a complete down day for me. I've been too busy and overloaded lately (I know, I know...) and I've had a painful neck/shoulder condition going on for almost a month now.

Those of you who live with chronic pain have my deepest sympathy; A busy schedule coupled with pain that limits my activity has made me just a wee bit CRANKY. I had x-rays taken a week ago, but haven't heard back yet as to whether I am dead or alive. That's one situation that I will take care of today. You know, the ole "What'd-you-people-do-with-my-x-rays-and-WHAT-did-they-show?" routine.

In the meantime, nothing was on the calender for today so I decided to take today off. No school (to speak of, though we've already done art, practiced piano, discussed migration, molds and fungi, forensic science, and international holidays), no housework (laundry doesn't count, does it?), no errands or car trips or outings, no yard work, and no GrammaJ - not even on the phone (bless her heart).

So here I am, just goofing off in between ibuprofen doses and haunting Facebook when I see that Person A is taking today off. Hey, what a coincidence, I'm taking today off too! Then I notice that Person B is also taking today off. So is Person C. Person D is complaining because she's working when everyone else is off and Person E states that he's probably attending the only college in the nation that has classes today.

Hmmmmm. What's going on? Did I miss a memo somewhere that said I was supposed to be off today? I looked more carefully at my calender. Lo and behold, today is Columbus Day.

Whatever that means. (and whoever cares...)

It also says that today is the day for all my Canadian friends (Hi Pea!) to celebrate Thanksgiving.

At least I have an inkling of what to do with THAT holiday! Looks like the girlies and I will add pumpkin pie baking to our non-school activites for the day. Wait. Is there any whipped cream in the fridge? We can't have pumpkin pie without whipped cream and I am NOT going to the store!

[Groovy takes a break to go see.]

Yessssss! Score! and it doesn't even go bad until December!!

[Groovy does the pumpkin-pie-with-whipped-cream-Thanksgiving-Day-dance-of-joy... and hurts her stupid neck again. Owwww. Where's that ice pack?]



Disclaimer: That is not a picture of my pie. It's a photo I lifted from google images, but my pie will look quite similar, though the crust will be a wee bit higher. I will make it with real pumpkin that the girls grew in their 4-H garden. Yum!

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I got an email about NaNoWriMo a week or two ago. For a few insane moments, I even actually thought of trying to do it again. Alas, between biology, 4-H, the nursing home, the grandkids, my own home and GrammaJ, I really can't commit to 50,000 words in a month. Instead, I am going to try to focus much of my spare time into adding to one or the other of my two Y.A. W.I.P.s.

That's Young Adult Works in Progress for those of you unfamiliar with the lingo.

I love both of my stories and I desperately want to finish them and submit them for publication.

Speaking of "finishing", that's my life theme right now: "Finish What You Start". I am working quite hard at either ditching projects permanently or FINISHing them. This is so foreign to my nature that Mulletman has so far remained a silent and skeptical watcher. I have been so bad at sticking with anything that he's waiting to see if I stick with my resolution to stick with things to the end.

What did I just say? I'm not sure either.

So far, so good. I started AND finished clearing the weeds from the veggie garden (that would be the veggie garden that never grows veggies because it's always full of dandelions - until now) AND mulched it with newspaper and straw. DONE! I pruned all the blueberry bushes and weeded underneath them. DONE! I painted all the portions of the house Mm asked me to paint. DONE! I've started little projects as gifts and not stopped until they were finished. DONE!

I'm even applying the concept to smaller chores by not letting myself (well, trying to not let myself) get distracted from a task until it's completed. NO. MORE. MULTI. TASKING.

At least, not in theory. ;)

I still have some work to do (let's not discuss the pile of undone mending upstairs), but I'll get there eventually.

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Wow. I'm getting sleepy all of a sudden. Could it be that I'm relaxed?

Groovy...

But before I go I have to share with you that Girly-Girl was just elected secretary of our 4-H club. She was nominated for president AND for treasurer, but declined both of those positions. I think secretary is a good fit for her skills and talents. :D

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Ok...Nap is calling, so off I go. Because I can. Because it's a holiday!

I am so thankful for a day off!!!!

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Bloggy Update: The pie was fabulous!

And...the verdict is out on my neck: Apparently I have some bone spurs and narrowing. Eeeewww. Off the "real" doc on Wednesday so she can refer me out...

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow...

It's happening again.

I go to the little drawer in the bathroom vanity where I keep my hair accessories and notice that it is growing bare, bereft of an adequate supply of hair elastics, barrettes and so forth. This is troubling because I am a walking case of chronic bad hair.

My hair is thin and fine and wispy and silky - and now, thanks to a serious infusion of unruly silver - fuzzy. On a good day it looks cute, but good days are rare and require a perfect mix of mild humidity and planet alignments and cooperating hormones and no wind or heat or static or stress. A good day would also require that I actually get my hair cut/trimmed more than once every year and a half...

Like I said, VERY rare.

So I search far and wide to find accessories that A. are pretty and B. will actually stay in my silky hair without sliding out 10 minutes later. The first requirement is fairly easy to meet. American stores are FULL of cute/pretty/sassy hair ornaments. However, the second stipulation is much more difficult to fulfill. I often buy promising elastics or clips or barrettes only to find that they can't stay the course. They either give me a headache or they continually slide away.

Needless to say, when I do find something I like, something that works, I make good use of it. Right now I have some really pretty elastic scrunchies in fabulous jewel-tones. I have some wee little clips that stay in and look nice (as long as I use several of them) and I have a couple of barrettes clips that pass muster if I double my hair through them.

That was plenty and I was content...................Until recently.

Because recently "it" started to happen. My hair adornments began to disappear. One day I'd be happily wearing my burgundy scrunchy, the next day it was nowhere to be found. I opted for the little clippies, but could only find three. I scrounged for the barrettes, but there was only one- and it looked gungy because the finish was scratched off.

Hmmmm, where could all my hair goodies be? I settled for the teal scrunchy and set out to search my pockets. Sometimes the wind gets wild or I mess up my coif wrestling with goats and I stuff my hair things in my pocket.

No luck. There was nothing in my pockets except used tissues, gum wrappers and an old grocery list and a defunct coupon.

"Mulletman? Have you seen my scrunchies?" Mulletman has long hair and he does use elastics to pull his ringlets (sigh) into a tail or a braid, but he doesn't use my more feminine scrunchies - and he certainly doesn't use my wee little clippies or barrettes. He was no help at all.

Just then, a lovely brown-haired tween breezed past me on her way to the bathroom, her own early morning head looking like a robin's nest of tangles. I temporarily abandoned my search to refortify myself with coffee and to add "hair stuff" to my shopping list. Moments later, the afore-mentioned tween waltzed into the kitchen for her breakfast. She had on a well coordinated outfit and her hair was sleeked back most becomingly. I openly admired her good taste.

"Girly-Girl, you look lovely this morning - so put together. How'd you do your hair? I really like it!"

She beamed under my praise and spun back-to so I could see her creative do. A creative do that involved 2 of MY HAIR SCRUNCHIES!

"Hey!" my voice rose with the excitement of discovery, "Aren't those MY scrunchies?"

"Yep. I like 'em."

"You may like them, but they're MINE. MY scrunchies! You shouldn't use MY scrunchies without asking MY permission!"

She gazed up me with wide brown eyes, "I didn't think you'd mind. They match my outfit."

"Yes, b-b-but they're MINE!"

Mulletman looked up from his oatmeal, "Honey, perhaps you could buy some more so there'd be enough for all of you."

I. went. ballistsic.

You see, Mulletman is a wonderful father and husband and all 'round decent (though occasionally high maintenance) human being, but he's still a Man. A man who has no concept of hair accessory security issues.

He has NO idea what I've been going through ever since our darling daughters got old enough to realize that their dolls had hair. I would buy the girls lovely decorations for THEIR hair. Then I'd go to do their hair "all pretty" and couldn't find matching elastics or barrettes or ribbons. Why? Because the majority of my carefully selected hair supplies had been covertly diverted to Tolly dolls, and Barbies, and Beanie Babies. Even Aslan the Lion had a hair bow.



I'd stomp around in a snit ranting a lecture about the misappropriation of hair embellishments whilst I undecorated the stuffed animals. And if the girls dared to giggle at me (which they did, the shameless thieves!) I silenced them with the angry-mother-eye-of-death.

At least temporarily.

For a week or so all would be well, but then I'd notice a rogue yellow hair elastic in the basement play area, or a pink hair clip near the foot of the bed. Next thing you know, Aslan had corn rows. It was ridiculous!

Finally, we came to something of an agreement. Certain of their hair things were deligated for play and others were to be kept in the drawer for their own heads. It worked/works for the most part. Though there have been periodic appearances of the "good" hair items on a doll's head that require a council meeting to reiterate the boundaries of hair implement usage.

But now things were taking an ugly turn. We were no longer talking about cute little girl hair accoutrements; We're talking about MY stuff.

Is there a way to lock my hair-stuff drawer? Maybe I should dust it with fingerprint powder so I know which child is guilty. Should I search the girls' room on a weekly basis? Maybe those little ladies should just save up their pennies and buy their OWN hair decorations!

Mulletman thinks I'm overreacting. He thinks I should chill out and share. He doesn't understand. A woman's got to protect what is her own!

That's it! I'm going to change into some nicer clothes and head for the store. I'm going to get a nice stash of hair goodies and then keep them hidden in the waaaaaaaaaaaay top of my closet in a mysterious shoe box.

Wait a minute...Where's my favorite funky red shirt?

GIRLY-GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

May She Rest in Peace (Ya know - Without Being Dug Up by Neighborhood Dogs and All)

We interrupt this nagging headache to bring you a much belated blog post:

Well folks, I am so far behind that I can't even remember where I'm heading. I had so many fun bloggy plans, but I've been sideswiped by GrammaJ's yard sale (she decided "we" were having one), a big boatload of ugly hormones, bad hair, and a weird neck/shoulder injury that arose from nowhere and is taking an ever-lovin' long time to heal up.

Nonetheless, I would be remiss if I didn't take a wee bit of time to pay tribute to our dear departed family member, Rebekah the hamster.

Sadly, Rebekah has passed on to that giant hamster ball in the sky...

If you'll recall, Rebekah and her twin sister Ruby just wrote a guest blog post a month or so ago...

Here they are at work on the keyboard; That's Rebekah on the right. I think. Actually, I never could tell them apart. However, Girly-Girl swears she can (could...*sniff*) identify them because one of them has (had...*sniff*) a little boo-boo on one of her toes.

Can you imagine being a human twin? A friend comes up, "I can't tell if you're Amanda or Miranda - Take off your shoes!"

Maybe not.



At any rate, a few weeks ago, one of the little furry gals started acting a wee bit weird. She was suddenly awake during much of the day while her sister slept. She ran and ran and RAN in the wheel and she climbed and leaped and startled and was just plain ole agitated and skittish. She also turned mean and bit anyone who touched her, so we stopped messing with her.

I did ask Funsocksgirl if she had ideas what might be wrong with the munchkin. FSG has owned many more hamsters, gerbils, mice, rats, and other furry beasts than you may want to hear about and is pretty much - at least in my book - an expert in rodent behavior.

Unfortunately, her only thought was that maybe we'd brought the scent of a cat into the house or something... She certainly did not expect death as the outcome of Rebekah's (assuming that's who it was!) manic behavior.

Sad to say, on September 18th I was upstairs reviewing a piano lesson with Silly-Head when Girly-Girl came running up the stairs and burst dramatically into the music room.

"Mom, one of the hamsters is DEAD!"

That pretty much pushed Bach to the back, if ya know what I mean.

Apparently, little Rebekah had been "gone" a while - she was just a stiff wad of fur and bones. So at least she wasn't limp and gross (been there, handled that!). After a few tears and hugs, we placed her in a toilet paper tube coffin and had a funeral in the back yard as we buried her at the edge of the leech field. The girls made this touching sign and gently placed some wild flowers to mark her grave.



Then we caught some cool insects to euthenize and mount for science and went up to console Ruby (assuming that's who she is). Ruby was peacefully asleep and wasn't terribly thrilled at being comforted, but she was calm and sweet and didn't act at all like a manic hamser on the verge of death. In fact, she's adjusted quite well to living alone. The girls have also recovered quite nicely and are already planning what new pets to get when Ruby dies (assuming that's who she is).

So, Good-bye Rebekah. We loved you while you were here and we're sad that you're gone now, but our lives go on...until Ruby starts going berserk!

It's a Sale!! ;)

I'm nearing the end of my "motherly abilities", as we more mature women like to say. Every once in a while I still get that urge for a sweet little baby. Then I picture myself trying to make it through pregnancy and childbirth and sleepless nights and weight gain and exhaustion and I move on.

However, JC Penny's does seem to be doing their best to make it easy for those of us with maternal yearnings. Check out this sale!



Heh-heh-heh...

NOTE: This is all in a stupid attempt at humor at the expense of JC Penny's. Groovy in NO WAY condones the sale or abuse of children - and Penny's doesn't either. They were actually selling Carter's clothing.

I'm Not Dead (Yet)

Just checking in to let you all know that I'm not dead.

Scout's been here - so time has been in flux as we try to stay available for him, GrammaJ's been needy, one of the hammies died, our family has found a new passion, I've written four awesome and entertaining blog entries in my head, Girly-Girl had her 10th birthday, and school/4-H/biology are in full swing. Add to that the fact that Mulletman has been on "vacation" (ie. off work and racing to finish all the house painting/fixing/rebuilding before it starts freezing here) the past of couple of weeks and you can see that I have excuses galore for not writing.

But I'll be back soon. (God willing!)