Things I Did Yesterday While I Definitely Wasn't Waiting for J to Call

* Made coffee
* Drank coffee
* Read morning paper
* Did crossword
* Listened to Clapton Unplugged
* Ate breakfast
* Checked phone -- charged? signal? on?
* Tried to take nap
* Stared out the window at the rain
* Endured mild intestinal distress
* Took shower
* Watched clock
* Blogged
* Counted gray hairs
* Probably sprouted a few new gray hairs
* Prepared and consumed avocado nachos for lunch
* Read 20 or so pages of Mists
* Spent way too much time and care applying make-up
* Fetched mail from across the street
* Checked phone again
* Made grilled cheese for 16yo
* Watched clock some more
* Watched Einstein napping
* Watched Oprah
* Tried to complete another crossword, lost interest
* Read the pm paper
* Officially gave up hope around 5:38 pm, cdt

Vladimir

This is Vladimir. I love the expression on his cracked little face! I've always thought he looks like he's had a couple of beers, and that he just might speak at any moment. I haven't heard him say anything, not yet anyway. That might require much more than a couple of beers on my part. The funny thing about Vlad is that I'm not fond of the person who gave him to me. It was an unexpected gift, it wasn't my birthday or any other occasion. And often I become attached to particular possessions because of my affection for the one who gave me the object. Not with Vladimir, though. Maybe it was just a random choice on the buyer's part, something he didn't put a great deal of effort into. Maybe he agonized over it. I really don't know. In any case, I'm surprised at how well he read me in choosing this whimsical little guy specifically for me. I adored Vlad from the moment he was handed to me, he has become a treasured fixture in my backyard. And he reminds me that I can be surprised and delighted. Even by someone I've never been sure of whether I like or trust him. Vladimir helps me keep my mind and my heart open to the possibilities in life that may not immediately occur to me. And that is a good thing.

Edgar With Lamiastrum

Last December I showed you how Edgar looked in the snow. This is how he looks at midsummer. Yes, he's anatomically correct. He is also a little shy. What the camera angle doesn't hide, the lamiastrum does.

Drifting East

Drifting east. That's what the 16yo says to describe that feeling of tiredness and disconnectedness that is out of sync with the time zone you are in. And that is where I am today! I stayed up last night past the point of exhaustion. My newfound adopted daughter Nancy and I ventured over to the metropolis of Bruce, SD for street dancing, merriment making, and flirting shamelessly with boys. All accompanied by a tolerable alcoholic buzz. Maybe I'm just out of the habit of staying up into the wee hours of the next day. We vacated back to Brookings after the band stopped playing and just as the street brawling began. Then there was evading the guy in the yellow tshirt who was thinking a mother/daughter thing just might be pretty darned interesting. I did meet a cute guy. But I don't want to talk about it. In my current state of easterly drifting I may have just imagined J into existence. So I'll talk about him later. When I'm more firmly planted in the same time zone.

Yardwork Playlist

Gotta have tunes while eradicating pesky weeds. I didn't accomplish as much as I wanted, I could not locate my little garden clipper device. I suspect it may be rusting somewhere in the middle of the compost heap. May have to purchase a new one. I hope on clearance at Lowe's. At any rate, whilst I was weeding the iPod was shuffling, and this is what I heard:

* FantasyLand, Hank Harris
* Record Machine, Abby SomeOne
* Come Monday, Jimmy Buffet
* Come Rain or Come Shine, Bette Midler, For the Boys soundtrack
* One Word Whisper, Abby SomeOne
* Time for Me to Fly, REO Speedwagon
* Wild Nights, Van Morrison
* Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down, Red Willow Band
* Feels Like Home, Bonnie Raitt, Michael soundtrack
* Losing My Religion, REM
* Midnight Hour, Commitments soundtrack
* Summertime, Aaron Neville
* Favorite Mistake, Sheryl Crow
* Sunshine of Your Love, Cream

The Need to Weed

I have a fine crop of thistles out in the back yard. I also have some very nasty, invasive field bindweed that is attempting to take over my moongarden. I really must weed! And the deck pots would look ever so much better if I would get out there and snip off the dead blooms from the geraniums. It has been so dry I have not needed to mow the lawn for nearly four weeks. There has been rain in the last few days which has greened up the grass a bit, but hasn't spurred enough growth to fire up the lawnmower. It has been an odd summer thus far, there have been a few hot days but I haven't yet resorted to running the air conditioner. I think it works. I certainly hope it does. I better run out and buy a new coffee maker before the AC decides to be the third appliance failure. But I'm going to weed and dead-head first! Pretty ambitious for a girl who's still in her nightie.

Goddess Weekend Activities

* Vacuumed
* Did some laundry
* Put my shoes away
* Made two visits to the evil local Wal-Mart
* Started reading The Mists of Avalon for the second time
* Put the guest bedroom back in order, it has a bed in it once more!
* Read three newspapers
* Did three crossword puzzles
* Listened to approximately 6 hours of NPR
* Finally figured out why the outlets in half the basement didn't work...
* ...and fixed it
* meant to wash my car...
* ...but didn't
* Discovered that my former fake boyfriend removed the link to my blog from his
* Added a pink typewriter graphic to the sidebar

Froot Loops

Crunchy, vaguely fruit flavored air that rips up the roof of your mouth. Makes an excellent bedtime snack. The ongoing debate in this house is, do the different colors actually have different flavors? And to take it one step further, do those colors logically correlate to the alleged fruit flavors they most likely represent? The 16yo has an ambitious plan to sort an entire box of Froot Loops by color and then consume by the bowlful a singular color in an attempt to settle this debate once and for all. I'm thinking that he should work it up into a science project for school next year. I'm also thinking he needs to get with collecting the data because the box I bought this afternoon is already half gone. This may just be a clever ploy on the part of the 16yo to get me to buy more Froot Loops. As a responsible parent, I normally insist on cereal that at least appears more healthy. But must we subsist on Shredded Wheat alone? I think not. Just no marshmallows in the cereal, that's where I draw the line.

Jeez, Mom, Put Your Shoes Away!

I would, but the cat's so comfortable!

Dating in the Postmodern Era

At heart I am more of an optimist than a cynic. More spiritual than religious. More hopeful than desperate. More giving than demanding. More stubborn than patient. Smart about a number of things and abysmally dumb about other stuff. I have a point, and I think I'm getting there, even though my process here is a little disjointed. Could it be that the not perfect man, but one who is perfect for me, is right under my nose and I'm not noticing him!?!? While I find the comic strip up there as funny as it can be, I sincerely hope it isn't the way things are out there. But it sure feels that way today.

Festival Shmestival

The lure proved too hard to resist. I went to the arts festival. Primarily to eat a pita from the Hutch's catering booth. While I was enjoying the combination pita with chicken and beef, topped with grilled onions and peppers, and further enhanced with sour cream and jalapeno slices, I sat across the picnic table from two young ladies. They had purchased Indian tacos, mostly because the young man at the counter looked so hot in the fifty percent of a shirt he was wearing. They had hopes of getting his phone number but instead were experiencing sandwich envy over my far superior choice. I smiled and told them the pita was most excellent. And it was. I also had the pleasure of observing the partially shirted fellow in the "world famous" taco booth, he served me up a coke. I had no desire to secure his phone number, I just wanted a beverage to accompany my pita. And I'm certain I was having more fun than the girls with their so-so tacos and no phone number. After the pita, I became distracted by the many baubles and such that were displayed in abundance around me. I bought a cute little beaded bracelet. But the fab purchase turned out to be the batik dress at half price. Hmm. I saw a cute guy in half a shirt and then went on to pay half price for an artsy little dress. It was a good day at the park.

Harmonious?

It would seem that I have enrolled myself at eHarmony. Inadvertently. Sort of. They keep sending me these emails. So last night when I was bored I clicked on the link to their website. And I filled out the profile screen. The final screen is where they ask for money. And it was late. And I was tired. I didn't feel committed to the concept. So I closed it all out and went to bed. This morning I checked my email and I had seven matches! Seven! From Nebraska and California and Idaho and Colorado! Mr. Nebraska was keen to see a picture of me. Due to the fact that I am generally unphotogenic and that I had a serious case of bedhead at the time and was in my jammies, taking a new photo was not an option. I solicited help from the 16yo to reformat my blog portrait to meet their pix specs while I drank coffee and attempted to process what the hell I was doing. The thing is, I don't get to look at their pictures until I pay the fee. And all the while they get to look at mine. Is it worth the twenty bucks? Help me out here! Is this a reasonable way to find a guy?

Hippo Birdie to Me

Hmm. Let's see. Birthday was good. Colleen and I traveled south to Sioux Falls and our first stop was at Vishnu Bunny. Thanks to Jeff I have a new tattoo on my tummy which is still a little red and sore but worth the ouch factor. We then proceeded to have a lovely bit of lunch at Food and Fermentation. Yum. On to the sculpture walk where I have a very cute photo of Colleen and a trio of dancing sheep. Which would be displayed prominently here if only I could figure out how to get said photo to travel from my phone to my laptop. I have a multitude of cables but none of them quite work. I will figure this out. I really need to remember to grab my camera which translates ever so easily to this medium. There were a few shopping stops which included the discovery of something called TrollBeads. One of them spoke to the Norwegian half of me and after a quick swipe of the plastic came home with me. How could I possibly resist being captivated by a sterling silver handcrafted bead called Brew of the Moor that was described as follows:

...awake in silent darkness, reality put to trial,
are young girls happily dancing in the brewing mist
of the moor, did sense change place with hope
when your heart became bewitched.

After trekking back north to home sweet home I enjoyed birthday brownies accompanied by coffee ice cream with my two adorable sons. A goofy text message from my sis completed a lovely day. Fifty-one has begun!

Leaving Fifty Behind

Tis the eve of my fifty-first birthday. And how nice that my birthday is falling on my day off! I have no brilliant thoughts in my head , or anywhere else, concerning this fact. I do feel appreciative for a number of things at this moment. My short term memory is functioning quite well. My house is relatively clean. My perfectly horrible haircut from the end of March is nearly grown out. I am teetering on the brink of menopause but the soy supplement is relieving the symptoms quite nicely, thank you. Fiscal year me begins tomorrow and I'm kicking it off with a new tattoo and lunch and a bit of shopping with Colleen. I have no agenda for this next year but somehow enormous expectations for it. I have a feeling that desires are on the verge of being answered. Instead of merely waiting for it, I've spent time and energy these last months preparing for some inevitable ship that's about to sail in. This last year has been a year of questions and ponderings. This next year I hope will be one of replies and accomplishment.

Movement

Several days ago I was heading down the basement steps. My son inquired as to what I was doing. I replied that I was on my way to the laundry room to move the laundry around. I don't know why I phrased it that particular way, although it does seem a little odd to say that I was doing laundry. Because the washer and the dryer actually do the laundry, I merely show up to move it. Wet or dry, dirty or clean, I move it along to the next appropriate step in the process. Hey, it's not like I haul the socks and undies, sheets and towels, t-shirts and jeans down to the river and beat them on rocks. I just move it around. And when prompted into a bit of thoughtful literalness by the 16yo's question, I prompted in him an unexpected revelation. He laughed heartily as he followed me into the laundry room. I often don't have a clue as to why what I have said is found hysterically funny by one of my sons. But this time I truly did not fathom the hilarity of my comment. What is so funny, I asked. And he replied, with a knowing gleam in his eye, THAT'S WHAT WE DO!! THAT'S ALL PEOPLE DO, SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME! WE MOVE STUFF AROUND! Giving this profound statement a moment's thought, I realized that he is right. Pretty much every activity humans engage in involves in moving stuff around. Granted, the results and the relative scale and speed and method and the societal impact of moving said stuff varies to a tremendous degree. If we're not directly involved in moving stuff, we're probably observing or discussing the movement of stuff. Fascinating. Moving stuff. That's what we do. And aren't we good at it!

Looking for Mr. Coffee

I have chosen the artwork for tattoo #3. I have made an appointment with my body artist for next week. It's my birthday present to me. I think Colleen is coming along for moral support. Hmm. Needles. Blood. Pain. What kind of a birthday gift am I giving myself?!?! Answer, a little bit of permanent artwork on my tummy, to the right and above my navel. A dark blue crescent moon as the priestesses of Avalon displayed on their foreheads, only not on my forehead, and in the center of the crescent the symbol for my sign of the zodiac. A few years ago when I was seriously contemplating my first tattoo, my friend Mary warned me that most people who get one tattoo go on to do it again. For some, again and again and again. Tattooing becomes something of an addiction for them. I think I'll be done after this third one, but I imagine only time will tell. Three is, after all, that mystical number of occurrence. Which makes me wonder, with having replaced my slowly dieing stove a week ago, and with my coffee maker emitting unusual noises the last couple of days, is a third appliance soon to follow? A coffee maker isn't a huge expense and it wouldn't be painful to replace. If a third appliance is about to give up the ghost I can only hope it's near the toaster end of the cost spectrum. Can't think of a third incidence of three at the moment. Although when asked what I want for my birthday I have answered, a boyfriend! So if he should happen to materialize, he would be my third dating experience since I became single again. And if he shows up bearing a coffee maker, so much the better.