Spring already? Spring already!!

Spring is popping out already here in Oregon. The "experts" tell me that it's 11 days early.

How do they know that?

Who sent the memo? And why does it matter? I mean, are they going to try to call off spring? Will they jump out in their white coats, wave their arms frantically and watch nature grind to a halt and then withdraw shame-faced because of their early cue? Do they want her to try again in the hopes of getting an 8.5 from the German judge this time?

I have my doubts.

So while they fret over the date, I've got daffodils, crocuses, irises, tulips and primroses starting their show and I think I'm ready.

Brasseur & Eisler

I watched some figure skating at the Olympics tonight and will say I enjoyed it but nothing for me beats the absolute jaw-dropping fun of watching Isabelle Brasseur and Lloyd Eisler. They always chose fun music, they wore great costumes and the way he tossed her around was simply unbeaten.

I saw an interview with their coach once that said Brasseur's first reaction when asked to try out with Eisler was, "No way! I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair."

I'm glad she changed her mind.

Getting old ... my way

I celebrated another birthday an indeterminate number of days ago, and one of my children topped off the day by informing me, "You're only 9 years away from being old, Mom."

Ha! I'm way further than that from being old.

Right?

Then this morning I discovered that my routine has gotten a little more solidified these days.

*I like a certain type of spoon for my breakfast cereal and will dig through the drawer/dishwasher to find it.

*I have an optimal "milk moment" for that same cereal - when it's not too crunchy any more but not yet approaching soggy.

*I prefer when the comics and crossword are on the back page of a newspaper section and not hidden in the middle where it's harder to find and fold to my specifications. And if it's hidden for too many days in a row, I get a little testy.

*The shower can be before or after breakfast, but preferably not before 7am or after 9am (the beauty of being a writer is that I can choose to work in my PJs if I want to, but I've found there's a limit to the amount of warm fuzzy my brain can take before it just wants to sleep again.)

*I do have at least a fleeting thought about comfortable shoes each morning. Don't always give in but there's mental math sometimes about # of hours on feet x type of activity x chances to rest - is this a place I can kick my shoes off if need be + what lingering effects I might be feeling after yesterday's shoes ...

The good news is I'm still pretty flexible after 9 am. But maybe I should start writing these things down so the kids have the list ready for the home.

When it's time, of course. Because I'm not old yet.

Hagiography

I learned a new word today:

hagiography

noun - 1. a biography of a saint
2. an uncritical biography, treating its subject with undue reverence.

Why does this interest me?

Well, just so happens my nickname is college was "Hag." (If you know my maiden name, you'll get it.) And the recent death of a good friend had me thinking about the kinds of things that might be said after I die. You know, the old what-do-you-want-people-to-say-at-your-funeral approach to life. It seems to me that it would be entirely appropriate for someone to write, not just a biography, but a hagiography about me. It's considered polite to speak well of the dead, so just step it up a notch to "undue reverence." Or maybe just say I'm a saint.

I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?





















*added 2-26-10: I read Fifth Business for the first time last weekend (I know, still working through my college text required reading. Don't think the teacher will accept the paper 20 years after the fact though ...). Anyways, who knew there was a novel that actually uses this word? A LOT, too?

Okay, probably my college professor ...

The secret to lasting happiness

Having a bad day? All you need to do to lighten your mood is find a funny cat video (or a funny cat). There's really nothing funnier than watching a cat do something - well - cat-typical ...

Hold on to your hats!

It has been "Toto-hang-on-tight!" windy here lately. Driving down the street is a discovery as we look for who's fence blew over in the night. And since I've gone to a short hair cut (not exactly on purpose), the only remedy for having my eyebrows raised as the wind threatens to pull my hair off is to cram a hat on and hope it stays.

But I learned some interesting things.

1. We don't have hurricanes on the west coast. We just call it "seasonal weather."

2. It turns out I can swing as hard as I want on my garden swing. It swings high enough to clear the cement retaining wall behind it.

3. Some trees flex better than others.

4. Raking our lawn really isn't completely necessary. We just need to learn to wait and then let the neighbor(s) downwind rake them for us.

5. Extra garden bricks and/or rocks are useful as well as occasionally decorative.

6. Our 5' x 6' kiddie pool is actually capable of becoming air born. ("Hey, just rake that up for me, would ya?")

Mixed messages

Like many people, I've been trying to keep an eye on the family grocery budget. And every once in awhile, I'll buy something just because it's cheap. Like eggplant. Or cauliflower. And I generally feel doubly virtuous because it's good for us AND it's saving us money. Except when my family won't eat it. Like the eggplant. Or the cauliflower.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago, whole chickens were on special. Really cheap. I mean, super duper really cheap. I have to explain that I don't roast whole poultry very often. My sister and I have a family tradition of phoning my mom on Thanksgiving to ask her why the turkey isn't cooked yet. And then we got smart and started letting my brother-in-law cook the bird. He's very good.

But this chicken was cheap. So I bought three. My thinking ran something like this, "This is super cheap. And even if we don't eat them, I could cook one and take it to the neighbors." I don't usually inflict untried recipes on neighbors, just so you know. But there's been someone in hospital, etc ...

Well, the ironic thing is that once I bought them, these chickens took up space in the freezer. So I had to cook one. And it turned out pretty good. A little dry but that's because I had to put it in a smidge early because I wasn't going to be home and SG was in a meeting so he couldn't baste it. But we got our rosemary-roasted chicken out of the oven and sat down to eat supper.

It was a beautiful moment. Practically Norman Rockwell.

And then it occurred to me that my children hadn't seen a chicken that actually looked like a chicken come out of the oven in, like, forever. Oh, well. A little to late to worry about that now. We're farm stock, after all, and they'll have to recognize the realities of life at some point. "Children, I have to tell you something - not all meat grows up wrapped in cellophane."

We all dished up and I asked the usual question, "How was school today?"

"It was great. We had a lady come and talk to us about not being cruel to animals."

Oh, well.