Now You're Eight!

Happy birthday to my favorite leapling. We can go have a drink together in what, fifty-two years?

That Feeling When

I was sitting in the waiting area looking through photos of curly bob haircuts. My stylist, Bonnie, was finishing up a color job on another customer. A text comes in. From my sister. Our father has died, around noon central time. He was eighty-six. It's no surprise, his health has been in a downward spiral for the last couple of months. I feel little or nothing. The loss of my father happened years ago as far as I was concerned. In May it would have been twenty-seven years since I last saw him face to face. There will be no service. He will be cremated and one of his few remaining friends has been tasked with spreading Dad's ashes on golf courses. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Rest in peace, Carroll Bruce Broome. You were a lousy father. But it still makes me sad to think you died alone. No loving circle of friends and family gathered to ease your passing. You reap what you sow.

Anthropomorphic

Isn't he adorable? A friend of mine made it and is thinking about constructing a few of them just for fun. He was inspired by another similar pipe/robot/lamp creation and put his own twist on it. He looks contemplative bordering on sincere. With just the teensiest touch of wistfulness. I need to think on what I might name such a lamp, since I am wont to name anything that is humanish in appearance. I might even get to barter for mine. Robot lamp for pie seems fair to me. I await his choice of pie with great anticipation.

Carrying On

February has worn me to a frazzle, children. It seems a cruel joke that the current month gets a bonus day to extend my pain. My brain is tired and my body is tireder. All I have to say is, it's a respectable time for a beer. Or two.

Sailcloth

So. The brilliant and talented younger son entered a video game competition last November. No, not competing in playing a video game, but competing in creating a video game from the ground up. In only two weeks. The artwork, the gameplay mechanics, the music. Created by him, thought up by him, composed by him. He won! Even if you aren't a gamer, like moi, take a look. I was impressed by the look of the game and enjoyed the music. I particularly liked the fact that a witch makes an appearance. Did he base this character on his mother? I don't know. But I'd be honored if he had. This young man is on the road to fame and fortune, so play for free while you can. Someone has to take care of me in my old age so I'm banking on his success. Though I won't be old for quite a long time, thank you very much. Play Sailcloth! You'll be glad you did.

How I Feel Today. Please Check Back Tomorrow.

Parenthood

My dear, dear son. My beemish boy. My second born. I feel so much fear and trepidation for what lies ahead. But I believe in your innocence, not because I'm a foolish, doting mother who has little knowledge of the world, but because I am a shrewd and accurate judge of character. I have fought for you since before you were a cluster of cells yet to implant in the wall of my uterus. It was so arduous a journey to bring you into this world. In the fifteen months it took to conceive you there were at least two joyful possible positives, only to be shown otherwise when my period arrived right on schedule. Carrying you resulted in borderline gestational diabetes for me, a never ending case of heartburn,  a frightening amount of fluid weight gain, months of nausea, and an angry sciatic nerve that caused me to drag my right foot along during the third trimester. And then you didn't want to come out of your warm, fluid sanctum. So they broke my water. Then administered pitocin. I walked and sat, walked and sat. But regular, productive labor was not to be. So all nine pounds, two ounces of you were delivered just before midnight on your namesake day by Cesarean section . Having a second child shows a parent firsthand the meaning of the word individual. We assumed your quirky ways were simply that, you expressing your personal individualism. But as you grew I became concerned about your slowness to speak even though it was obvious how bright you were doing simple math with the Cheerios on the high chair tray. You sometimes flapped your hands oddly and would become lost in thought while examining a bit of lint on the carpet or a small toy in your hands. You were overly sensitive to anything that touched your skin. As a toddler you still startled at loud noises and had difficulty sleeping. You were oddly specific about the clothing you preferred to wear and how you got comfortable to sleep. You were independent and fearless in a way that terrified me. Twice you escaped the safety of the house and were running down the street before I knew you were gone. When it came time to go to kindergarten you were already reading at a second grade level though you denied knowing how to read. I would hear you softly reading traffic and business signs and billboards from your carseat behind me. School was a struggle. I fought for you and became your advocate against a school system that preferred to drug you rather than help you learn. The diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome* came toward the end of third grade. But even with an Individualized Education Plan it was still difficult. Some wonderful teachers got it and helped you so much. Others were punitive toward you because they were either lazy or indifferent. Over the years I have watched you mature out of asocial behaviors and helped you learn exit strategies from situations that were stressful. It broke my heart how you were bullied by your peers. And even though you were sometimes bigger than your tormentors, you rarely returned the aggression that was foisted upon you. You have remained a gentle, kind, intelligent, highly empathetic human. I am so proud of the young adult you have grown into. The typical benchmarks associated with any age were often achieved later, but always successfully. Throughout your life I have done my best to push your envelope just enough to make you a little uncomfortable and thus help you learn. Now that trouble has arrived that could affect the rest of your life in a seriously negative way, I promise to not abandon you. You have worked harder than most to arrive where you are. Once again I will fight for you. Not only because you are my son, but because you are a good human. And there are far too few of you on this Earth. I love you so much. You are an innocent at heart. And I have your back.
    
*Now called mild autism.

Slàinte Mhath

Anyone who knows me will agree that I'm a fan of foreign language phrases and the accents that they are expressed in. Let's include the various accents from different areas of America as well! My full-blooded Norwegian-American mother managed to put on a pretty good American Southern accent at times using words and phrases she absorbed from my Mississippi-born father. These were colorful strings of words including the best of the four letter ones, usually employed for scolding my wayward siblings and myself for our less than appropriate behavior. Watching Outlander has provided me with my new favorite phrase, Slàinte Mhath! A toast meaning "to your health" in Scottish Gaelic, shouted out with gusto while raising a glass. It's pronounced slawn jevaa. I've been practicing. I can't wait until I have an opportunity to use it out among others. Suddenly I feel so in touch with my Scottish heritage. And now I can drink to it! Slàinte Mhath!

Hacked Part Deux

Well. This particular load of shit hit the fan today. We've been waiting nearly fifteen months for the other shoe to drop so in a way it's a relief. In an entirely different way there is now a whole new shitload of crap to navigate. All I have to say is being a twenty-seven year old male with a cognitive disability who lives in his mother's basement is in no way a criminal offense or activity. To paraphrase in the words of one of the gentlest humans to ever walk this earth, can you say profile?

Cluttered Eclectic Fruit Salad Office Decor

New rug. 

In response to the decluttering trend in decorating, I am fighting back with an organized, over-the-top stuff everywhere there is room motif.

When I get around to painting later this year, I think my office should be purple. Definitely purple.

Barbies. Bears. Fairies. A couple of crabs. Office supplies. all peacefully sharing the space. 

Oops!

Okay, Starz, I'm with the program now. Pun intended. You dole out new episodes one at a time! How annoying! Those who prefer their series consumption controlled for them already subscribe to you through their cable company! When I stream I want the option to binge! Then I can watch the second time around at more reasonable intervals. I guess I'll be watching Season 5 of Outlander in reverse of my preferred method. Wait a week in between episodes and then binge when they have all dropped. Which will bring us to May. Not nearly as satisfying, but winter will be over. That's something.  

Otherwise Known as Wednesday

Can we talk? This was going to be a very productive day. Seriously. I had plans to get a number of things done, none of which even got started. I have no plausible reason for this lackadaisical attitude. I feel fine, my cold has completely abated. So now I find myself still in my pajamas and it's after eight in the evening. Can I just say that February is a little weird for me? There. I said it anyway. The best way I can think of to cap off this extraordinarily nothing-done day is to take a bubble bath. Put on clean jammies, watch a movie, sleep well, and get up tomorrow. And get shit done. There. I feel better already.

Rock On, Little Dude!

My dear little brother would have been 56 today. Here we see him at approximately the age of four, grinning and holding his loodeloo, which is Cullenspeak for guitar. You were a joy-filled human, Cully, and you were taken from us far too soon. I shall consume a beer and a peanut butter cup brownie in your honor today. Though not necessarily together. On second thought, that's not such a bad combination. 

Not Enough Electrons

I would thank Starz for releasing episode one of season five of Outlander on Friday. Purportedly to help all of us celebrate Valentine's Day. Except I think it was merely to soften the blow when so many of us, it can't be just me, can't get anything to load and play on their streaming service. Personally, I think so many subscribers logged on today to see the continuing adventures of Claire and Jamie that we broke Starz. Absolutely and literally broke it. All I get to watch is the loading symbol circling the drain. Maybe someone should unplug Starz, wait a couple of minutes, then boot it up again. That's what I do when things don't work. On the other hand, it's a simple law of economics to make something scarce so people will do anything, spend more money, maybe wait in a ridiculously long line in order to get it. Starz, you big tease. I'll try again tomorrow.

About The Size of It

My lovely little home has a single car attached garage. With nary a single car parked inside it! Here's the thing. Depending on where you look, my house was built somewhere between 1956 and 1959. An era in American history where cars were huge. Freaking huge! And I seriously doubt that a car was ever intended to actually be parked in there. The graphic is pretty close to the dimensions of my garage, it's eleven feet wide and the full depth of the house deep, about twenty-six feet. If I ever get it organized* out there into lady cave space on one end and working on projects/tool space on the other, I probably still won't be able to park my car in there. Though my Outback would fit pretty comfortably with room on at least one side for me to get out if everything along the sides was relocated for the first twenty feet. Which leads me to believe that this garage was built for the lawnmower, a few bicycles, and some camping equipment. Not a car. I have briefly fantasized about building an oversize double garage in the backyard that would be accessed via the alley. If time and money were in limitless supply. Then I could convert the attached garage space into more living space! And park my car inside the new much larger garage space. Not that I need any of this, I just enjoy thinkin' on it. I'm happy to have new windows that don't let the winter inside. And I need to finish the projects currently in progress before I start new ones. When you own a house, you don't need hobbies.   

*Garage space enhancement and organization is slated for this summer. When it's done join me in the lady cave area and grab a beer from the conveniently located beverage fridge!

A Feast for St Valentine

Pesto pasta with shrimp and broccoli. A nice green salad. Garlic toast. Walnut or peanut butter cup brownie with ice cream. And a little bubbly. How 'bout some love for the cook!

My Front Yard

From the living room window. Wednesday evening. Snow falling. 

Matters of the Heart

Sometimes I go to write about something and then I wonder if I have written about it before. This happens after thirteen years of blogging. So I do a little search and see what comes up. I was thinking about an appropriate subject for this day devoted to amour and discovered a couple of gems far back in the early days of sharing my thoughts with the internets. Please click and read. And have some love today. With your sweetheart or a pet or a child or chocolate or a random act of kindness toward a stranger. Love comes in so many forms. Indulge. Repeat.

The Beatles Said it Best

Taking It On

I find it regrettable that this photo lacks Kady and Josh. Also the TADA sign.

After viewing Seasons 1-4 of The Magicians, I was pleased that a magical character named Ian did not appear. I did not expect to love this show so much! But I do! Despite the fact that the Season 4 finale made me cry. Both times I watched it. I love the inappropriate verbal epithets, the darkness, the humor, and the very clever way that they incorporate music into many of the episodes. I will never again hear the A-ha pop anthem Take On Me quite the same way. Oh, and who's my favorite character? It's a toss-up between Margo and Eliot. Though Fen and Josh have grown on me more than I expected they would. And because I have a soft spot for drunken Russian magicians with a deadpan sense of humor who can turn into bears, Mayakovsky is my fave of the recurring characters.

Same Drill

If you think I have misplaced the heart by encircling the 16th on this calendar rather than the 14th, you are mistaken. Season 5 of Outlander drops this Sunday! And y'all know I have the feels for a certain rugged redheaded Scotsman. For rules concerning this most auspicious day, they are the same as listed here. I haven't decided when Sunday starts for me. Just past midnight? After my usual Sunday morning ritual of music and the crossword puzzle? In either case, binge will be the word of the day.

Itza List Day

1. My cold is much better, thanks for asking.

2. The stank from the cigar bar required six washings to be completely removed from my hair.

3. Fortunately, my cold had not set in yet so my sense of smell was still fully operational when Item #2 was accomplished.

3. This photo is on the wall directly above my computer.

4. I'm not just goofing off on the internet, I am also washing dishes and doing laundry.

5. I managed to file my income tax over a week ago. 

6. In reference to Item #5, yes, I am feeling pretty smug about this.

7. Also in reference to Item #5, yes, both federal and state returns.

8. I have adjusted quite well to the smartphone.

9. In reference to Item #8, I do miss saying dumbphone.

10. In reference to Items #8 and #9, I am amused that spellcheck approves of the word smartphone, but not the word dumbphone.
  

Loaner

So I got to drive this 2020 Outback for a few hours the other day. While my 2007 version was in getting its airbags fixed. That recall thing. While it had that fab new car smell and lots of fancy electronics, I can't see myself wanting to purchase one anytime soon. I feel like my 2007 Outback is a better built vehicle. Something about how solid it feels when I close the door. Weirdly, in the 2020, my ape-arms aren't long enough to reach the door handle to close it when I'm sitting in the driver's seat! The backup camera and the keyless entry are pretty cool, also the USB ports right there on the dash. Aside from having many, many more miles to put on my car, I'm thinking the next vehicle I purchase really needs to be electric, or at least a hybrid. Pearl* and I have so many adventures left to pursue! 

*My Outback's name is Pearl. Derived from her paint color, Newport Blue Pearl. I probably paid an extra five bucks just for the fancy paint color name.

Feeding The Cold

Chicken soup for my soul, my sniffles, and my tummy. 

Achoo!

Awwwwwww, look! I sneeze flowers! I also fart rainbows and burp butterflies! Not really. But I do have a cold. Not a horrible take to your bed sort of cold, just the annoying sniffles. It's a day devoted to chicken soup, hot tea, and a big cozy blankie in my comfy chair. Let's binge The Magicians, shall we? I need a spell for the banishment of viral infections. Perhaps they'll show me one. It seems my usual magical habits of hand washing and not touching my face have not been strong enough to ward off these nasty little bastards. Whatever did people do before kleenex and sudafed, that's what I want to know. 

Climate Confusion

This was yesterday. The patio door was open most of the afternoon. It was lovely. I forgot it was technically winter.

Overnight we were plunged back into the reality of the calendar. I think I'll live in flannel jammies for the rest of the week.

It's a Groundhog Palindrome Sort of Day

The only way this could possibly be cooler would be if the word palindrome actually was a palindrome. Could somebody get on this, please?  

It Bears Repeating

Here we are at the beginning of February, the month when we celebrate love in all its lovely forms. I do have more than a bit of a quibble with whoever decided it was a good idea to make St Valentine the patron saint of amour, but there it is. For me personally, love has little to do with being imprisoned, tortured, and buried alive. If that makes me vanilla then slather me in chocolate sauce and lick away. If you wish to know more on the subject of what I do find essential in the romance department, a few years ago I compiled a list. You can find it here. Off with you, now. I have unintentional pajama day tasks to attend to.

Eff You!

All of you gynoticians out there are seriously getting on my nerves. When you could be addressing real issues that need your attention such as health care, infrastructure, overhauling immigration, protecting the environment, global warming, the list goes on and on, you are venturing into territory where you have not been given permission to enter. Instead, you are drafting laws, some ridiculous, some downright invasive, in the interest of controlling women and their lady parts! We can manage our feminine anatomy, thank you very much. Keep this in mind, many of our problems with these parts come from you sticking your nose, and penises, into them. How about if you work on controlling your own parts instead. All I have to say is, get out, you have not been invited into this arena and you are not welcome here.