....I became a mommy for the first time; and my life has never been the same. Thank heaven.
For YEARS, I thought Jenni's birthday was March 21. That's because all of the work was done that day. I went into labor early in the morning on March 21, and all day kept thinking, "Today, we will have a baby. Today, March 21 I become a mommy. March 21 I will give birth."
I found out what all other parents know, babies have their own timetable and they like to trick their parents.
Jenni was born shortly after 1:00 in the morning; March 22.
I had been told about the instant love a parent feels for a child, but didn't quite understand the POWER of it until I saw her. Oh. My. Gosh.
And she was perfect.
All wiggly and pink; dark eyes and a thick head of dark hair. I had incredible heartburn the last 3 months of my pregnancy, and my Italian mother-in-law advised me that was the baby getting its hair. I brushed it off as yet another Italian wive's tale while popping another 12 Tums.
When Jenni was born and the nurse said, "Wow, what a head of hair," her dad tapped me on the shoulder and said, "See? My Mom was right." Like I wanted to hear that right then!
Three and a half years later, we had a second little angel, Meghan. We were so blessed.
And then the sibling rivalry started. Oy. I remember sitting on the couch between the two of them as they were yelling "I hate you!" at each other, and having them say 5 nice things about each other. They developed a singsong response: "I like your hair, I like your eyes, I like your dress, blah blah blah." I would just sigh and tell them that my biggest wish was that they would become best friends, like my sisters and I are.
They assured me that someday, that MIGHT happen, but right then, they just couldn't stand each other.
Well, it did happen. Right now, they are in Florida with their significant others (Meghan and Ben, Jenni and Tim), spending Spring Break together. Today for Jenni's birthday, they woke up around 3:30 in the morning (and by the way, I'd like some sort of proof of that, because that does NOT sound like my daughters), Meghan and Ben made breakfast for them of cinnamon rolls, and then they all went to Captiva Island to watch the sunrise. Then they went to watch dolphins and manatees, and tonight, they are all going to go out to dinner. My girls are spending a vacation together and having a wonderful time, just like best friends.
And where am I??? The one who did all of the work???
At work.
But thinking wonderful thoughts of them and how I'm glad they are enjoying the time together. And wondering what wonderful souvenirs they will bring home to mommy.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm??????
Oh, by the way, on that hair and heartburn thing, Meghan also had a head of thick hair and I had heartburn in the last 3 months. Neither of my sisters had heartburn and all of their babies were born bald. So, ??????
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
WHY BLOGS ARE USEFUL
Meghan and I were playing "What Did We Do Last Year for Easter?" She thought she was with me, I didn't think so, but couldn't come up with what actually happened. I checked e-mails; they'd all been deleted, except for one to my parents stating that I was feeling better, but wouldn't be going to Jenni and Tim's. I then remembered that was around the time I found out I had asthma. But couldn't remember what I actually did for Easter, other than trying to breathe.
I looked at the calendar, it was blank.
Meghan suggested I ask her dad, but I was pretty sure he'd say Meghan was with me, so she'd be with him this year. I needed something more concrete; and reliable.
My blog!!!
I searched the archives and found out she WAS with her dad. Ha! This thing has now justified itself.
I looked at the calendar, it was blank.
Meghan suggested I ask her dad, but I was pretty sure he'd say Meghan was with me, so she'd be with him this year. I needed something more concrete; and reliable.
My blog!!!
I searched the archives and found out she WAS with her dad. Ha! This thing has now justified itself.
Monday, February 26, 2007
MAYBE I SHOULD JUST OPEN A RESTAURANT
I love to cook so it's no hardship for me to spend time on Sundays cooking for the upcoming week. Cooking is also a great stress reliever for me. The last two weeks at work have been quite stressful so I, uh, went a little crazy this past Sunday.

Clockwise, from top left: porkchop alla pizzaiola; Tuscan salad; spaghetti with asparagas, mozzarella and prosciutto; chicken saltimbocca; and spaghetti alla carbonara. Not shown: shrimp tossed in pesto sauce which was Sunday night's pre-Oscar dinner. Half of this went into the freezer for future meals; the rest will be dinner AND lunch this week.
Next week, maybe I'll try out some provincial French recipes. In the meantime; buon appetito.
Clockwise, from top left: porkchop alla pizzaiola; Tuscan salad; spaghetti with asparagas, mozzarella and prosciutto; chicken saltimbocca; and spaghetti alla carbonara. Not shown: shrimp tossed in pesto sauce which was Sunday night's pre-Oscar dinner. Half of this went into the freezer for future meals; the rest will be dinner AND lunch this week.
Next week, maybe I'll try out some provincial French recipes. In the meantime; buon appetito.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Making a Spectorcle of Himself
He may be pleading innocent now, but personally, I think he's planning on springing an insanity defense on the court at some point.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
RATS!!!
My most recent post was lost. I carefully crafted it, searching for the right words, the right timing, and just the right touches of pathos and humor.
And cyberspace stole it. I hit "publish", and it disappeared into the cosmos. Who knows where it will land.
It was a marvelous mixture, combining comments about my night out tonight at a local club listening to my favorite band, about crazy astronauts in diapers and about the discovery of the bones of the ancient Italians found in an eternal embrace. It was priceless. The best thing written. Ever. Period.
But it's lost.
I'm going to bed.
And cyberspace stole it. I hit "publish", and it disappeared into the cosmos. Who knows where it will land.
It was a marvelous mixture, combining comments about my night out tonight at a local club listening to my favorite band, about crazy astronauts in diapers and about the discovery of the bones of the ancient Italians found in an eternal embrace. It was priceless. The best thing written. Ever. Period.
But it's lost.
I'm going to bed.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
HEY!!!!
Have you ever looked in a mirror about 2 hours after lunch and found spinach stuck in your front teeth? And you had been in a meeting for most of that time? And talking? And no one said anything at all like "excuse me, you have spinach in your teeth?" They just let you go on in ignorance until you found out yourself?
Well, that kind of happened to me here on the blog. Earlier tonight, I was perusing the post about Annarae's first road trip, and accidentally clicked on the photo of me holding the little miss. Clicking on it caused the image to enlarge. A lot.
And there, in my front teeth, were the remains of the BBQ ribs I had just enjoyed. It wasn't visible in the normal photo, only when enlarged.
But, HEY! No one said anything.
Maybe no one clicked on the image.
There's always hope.
And I'll always be checking that in the future.
Well, that kind of happened to me here on the blog. Earlier tonight, I was perusing the post about Annarae's first road trip, and accidentally clicked on the photo of me holding the little miss. Clicking on it caused the image to enlarge. A lot.
And there, in my front teeth, were the remains of the BBQ ribs I had just enjoyed. It wasn't visible in the normal photo, only when enlarged.
But, HEY! No one said anything.
Maybe no one clicked on the image.
There's always hope.
And I'll always be checking that in the future.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
ANNARAE'S FIRST ROADTRIP
Annarae and her family (mom Stacey; grandparents Carol and Bob) came to visit this weekend.
Is this Baby Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man or Ralphie's little brother, Randy, in Christmas Story?
By the way, she had carrots for dinner the night before; thus the orange nose.







And my favorite:
IMAGE HAS BEEN REMOVED FOR AESTHETIC REASONS.
Annarae is teething, which means everything she touches goes into her mouth. Hopefully, I uploaded this video correctly and you can see. There is no sound. This was taken with my digital camera.
Annarae on Vimeo
And then there's this pitiful attempt to try to get her to say something. This video was taken with my cell phone.
Trying to Annarae to Talk; part 2 on Vimeo
Is this Baby Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man or Ralphie's little brother, Randy, in Christmas Story?
By the way, she had carrots for dinner the night before; thus the orange nose.

And my favorite:
IMAGE HAS BEEN REMOVED FOR AESTHETIC REASONS.
Annarae is teething, which means everything she touches goes into her mouth. Hopefully, I uploaded this video correctly and you can see. There is no sound. This was taken with my digital camera.
Annarae on Vimeo
And then there's this pitiful attempt to try to get her to say something. This video was taken with my cell phone.
Trying to Annarae to Talk; part 2 on Vimeo
Friday, January 26, 2007
MEET THE PARENTS: FIRE AND ICE
A couple of weekends ago, Meghan's boyfriend, Ben, came to St. Louis to meet the family. He's from Syracuse, NY and thoughtfully brought an ice storm with him. Not the best hostess gift, but what are you going to do?

He and Meghan stayed at Meghan's dad's house for the weekend and Jenni and Tim stayed with me; after sliding into St. Louis Friday night. Jenni said they drove the entire way in the ice storm. Correction; the last half hour they travelled in a driving rainstorm. After they got here, the temperature dropped and everything froze.
The next morning, I was to host a brunch so Ben could meet my family. We had everything perfectly planned. What's that saying, Man Plans, God Laughs.
(It is important to know that twice in 2006, I was without power after storms. Once in July and I was out of power over night. The second time was the ice storm in early December when the power was out for 2 nights. I was fortunate as a number of my friends were without power for nearly a week.)
Saturday morning, I woke up around 6:00 am and had this little conversation with myself.
Me: Thank heaven I didn't lose power in the storm.
Me: How do you know you didn't lose power? Your eyes are still closed.
Me: I know because it's still warm in the house.
Me: You know you are going to have to open you eyes soon and see for sure.
Me: (sigh) (I open my eyes and look at the clock. Dark. I turn on the bedside lamp. Nothing)
Me and Me in Unison: Crap!!
Jenni got up soon after I did. She was awake at 5:30 in the morning when she heard the transformer blow and already knew the power was out. Options were discussed and it was decided we'd pack up everything and go over to her dad's for the brunch. She did call him to let him know that was happening, but he was already at a seminar he was attending that day.
We woke up Tim who happily went out to chip a Grand Prix out of a maroon block of ice. And when I say "happily", I'm lying. He really really wanted to be sleeping. Really.
We got to the ex's and I started preparing the apple-stuffed French toast, oven-fried brown-sugar bacon and cantaloupe and berry fruit salad. Jenni and Meghan helped with peeling apples for the filling, and with preparing the cantaloupe and berry fruit salad. Tim showered and Ben kept us company in the kitchen.
As I was putting the French toast into the oven to bake, I noticed there was some debris in the bottom of the oven from a prior culinary dust-up. This was out of the norm for my ex, but I was there to cook, not judge.
After the French toast had cooked for half of its time, I opened the oven door, coughed at the smoke that came out of the oven from the stuff on the oven floor, and put the topping on the casserole. It was made with butter, brown sugar, pecans and flour. I thought the smoke was just from the stuff on the bottom of the oven burning off and it would be no problem.
I put everything back into the oven, closed the door and started making the sausage. Jenni walked into the kitchen and exclaimed at how smoky it was. Then she yelled, "FIRE!" and pointed at the oven. Through the glass in the oven door, we could see a lovely fire merrily crackling away underneath my beautiful apple-stuffed French toast.
Jenni dashed out to ask her sister for a fire extinguisher. I opened the pantry door and found one. I opened the oven door, pulled the extinguisher's pin, counted to three and lobbed ---- oh. wait. That's for hand grenades.
I opened the oven door, pulled the pin, and aimed the extinguisher at the base of the flames.
Pfft. Some white foamy stuff trickled into the oven. It was like spraying an almost-empty can of whipped cream.
I shook the extinguisher and tried again. Pfft.
OK, third time. SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH! Finally! Sheesh. And all of this time as the house was filling up with smoke, we heard this from the smoke detector:
Detector: silence.
Jenni ran into the kitchen and applauded my efforts. I took the French Toast out of the oven and set it on the counter. It was now covered in a white dust. I announced brunch was ruined and we'd have to go out. Jenni said the meal looked delicious. I pointed out that the topping was fire extinguisher chemicals, not powdered sugar.
"Oh," she said.
As each person arrived in the kitchen, they too said the meal looked good and were also disappointed to find out the real name of the garnish.
Tim arrived with my parents, none of them knowing what had happened and coughing at the rather thick air.
Smoke detector: silence
They, too, marveled at how delicious the French toast looked.
I marveled at how much smoke can build up before the smoke detector would go off.
So a half hour later, we were placing our orders at a local restaurant and then we returned to thecrime scene the girls' dad's house to clean up the oven. And stuff.
When we walked into the house, we noticed we didn't smell anything unusual. In fact, it smelled like someone was broiling steaks. Also, I noticed a picture Meghan had made for her dad for Christmas. She had taken a photograph of the three of them; (Dad, Meghan and Jenni), shellacked it on a tile and added text that said "Families are a gift from God; as much of a gift to them as to you. Or something like that. Meghan gave me a similar picture, only with the girls and me. And the text on mine said "Families are like fudge; sweet with a few nuts."
"HEY!" I exclaimed. "How come he gets God and I get the nuts?"
Jenni just looked at me and said, "I can't believe you are asking that today."

Jenni and Tim scrub away.

Ben helps Jenni inspect the oven.)
We got the oven and kitchen looking better than it did before. We discussed the fact that since the house smelled like broiling steaks; and everything looked fine, that their dad didn't need to be told that I tried to burn up his oven. But Jenni was our weak link and insisted he be told.
So I left and went back to my home where power had been restored (YAY). The girls baked some chocolate chip cookies to help fill the house with more good smells. Jenni put the plate of freshly baked cookies in front of her dad and then told him what happened.
Oddly, he was OK with his ex wife's culinary disaster when he wasn't at home. Go figure.
But more important we all got to meet the unflappable Ben who handled ice, fire, and nuts very nicely.

Epilogue: I e-mailed my ex early the next week to offer to replace the fire extinguisher. He said I didn't need to worry about it. I mentioned that it appeared to have been really low anyway and mentioned that the smoke detector (which is hard-wired into the house) wasn't working properly. I pointed out that I had alerted him to these malfunctions and hopefully avoided a disaster. Basically, I saved his life.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
(And he didn't even say "Thank you!")

He and Meghan stayed at Meghan's dad's house for the weekend and Jenni and Tim stayed with me; after sliding into St. Louis Friday night. Jenni said they drove the entire way in the ice storm. Correction; the last half hour they travelled in a driving rainstorm. After they got here, the temperature dropped and everything froze.
The next morning, I was to host a brunch so Ben could meet my family. We had everything perfectly planned. What's that saying, Man Plans, God Laughs.
(It is important to know that twice in 2006, I was without power after storms. Once in July and I was out of power over night. The second time was the ice storm in early December when the power was out for 2 nights. I was fortunate as a number of my friends were without power for nearly a week.)
Saturday morning, I woke up around 6:00 am and had this little conversation with myself.
Me: Thank heaven I didn't lose power in the storm.
Me: How do you know you didn't lose power? Your eyes are still closed.
Me: I know because it's still warm in the house.
Me: You know you are going to have to open you eyes soon and see for sure.
Me: (sigh) (I open my eyes and look at the clock. Dark. I turn on the bedside lamp. Nothing)
Me and Me in Unison: Crap!!
Jenni got up soon after I did. She was awake at 5:30 in the morning when she heard the transformer blow and already knew the power was out. Options were discussed and it was decided we'd pack up everything and go over to her dad's for the brunch. She did call him to let him know that was happening, but he was already at a seminar he was attending that day.
We woke up Tim who happily went out to chip a Grand Prix out of a maroon block of ice. And when I say "happily", I'm lying. He really really wanted to be sleeping. Really.
We got to the ex's and I started preparing the apple-stuffed French toast, oven-fried brown-sugar bacon and cantaloupe and berry fruit salad. Jenni and Meghan helped with peeling apples for the filling, and with preparing the cantaloupe and berry fruit salad. Tim showered and Ben kept us company in the kitchen.
As I was putting the French toast into the oven to bake, I noticed there was some debris in the bottom of the oven from a prior culinary dust-up. This was out of the norm for my ex, but I was there to cook, not judge.
After the French toast had cooked for half of its time, I opened the oven door, coughed at the smoke that came out of the oven from the stuff on the oven floor, and put the topping on the casserole. It was made with butter, brown sugar, pecans and flour. I thought the smoke was just from the stuff on the bottom of the oven burning off and it would be no problem.
I put everything back into the oven, closed the door and started making the sausage. Jenni walked into the kitchen and exclaimed at how smoky it was. Then she yelled, "FIRE!" and pointed at the oven. Through the glass in the oven door, we could see a lovely fire merrily crackling away underneath my beautiful apple-stuffed French toast.
Jenni dashed out to ask her sister for a fire extinguisher. I opened the pantry door and found one. I opened the oven door, pulled the extinguisher's pin, counted to three and lobbed ---- oh. wait. That's for hand grenades.
I opened the oven door, pulled the pin, and aimed the extinguisher at the base of the flames.
Pfft. Some white foamy stuff trickled into the oven. It was like spraying an almost-empty can of whipped cream.
I shook the extinguisher and tried again. Pfft.
OK, third time. SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH! Finally! Sheesh. And all of this time as the house was filling up with smoke, we heard this from the smoke detector:
Detector: silence.
Jenni ran into the kitchen and applauded my efforts. I took the French Toast out of the oven and set it on the counter. It was now covered in a white dust. I announced brunch was ruined and we'd have to go out. Jenni said the meal looked delicious. I pointed out that the topping was fire extinguisher chemicals, not powdered sugar.
"Oh," she said.
As each person arrived in the kitchen, they too said the meal looked good and were also disappointed to find out the real name of the garnish.
Tim arrived with my parents, none of them knowing what had happened and coughing at the rather thick air.
Smoke detector: silence
They, too, marveled at how delicious the French toast looked.
I marveled at how much smoke can build up before the smoke detector would go off.
So a half hour later, we were placing our orders at a local restaurant and then we returned to the
When we walked into the house, we noticed we didn't smell anything unusual. In fact, it smelled like someone was broiling steaks. Also, I noticed a picture Meghan had made for her dad for Christmas. She had taken a photograph of the three of them; (Dad, Meghan and Jenni), shellacked it on a tile and added text that said "Families are a gift from God; as much of a gift to them as to you. Or something like that. Meghan gave me a similar picture, only with the girls and me. And the text on mine said "Families are like fudge; sweet with a few nuts."
"HEY!" I exclaimed. "How come he gets God and I get the nuts?"
Jenni just looked at me and said, "I can't believe you are asking that today."

Jenni and Tim scrub away.

Ben helps Jenni inspect the oven.)
We got the oven and kitchen looking better than it did before. We discussed the fact that since the house smelled like broiling steaks; and everything looked fine, that their dad didn't need to be told that I tried to burn up his oven. But Jenni was our weak link and insisted he be told.
So I left and went back to my home where power had been restored (YAY). The girls baked some chocolate chip cookies to help fill the house with more good smells. Jenni put the plate of freshly baked cookies in front of her dad and then told him what happened.
Oddly, he was OK with his ex wife's culinary disaster when he wasn't at home. Go figure.
But more important we all got to meet the unflappable Ben who handled ice, fire, and nuts very nicely.
Epilogue: I e-mailed my ex early the next week to offer to replace the fire extinguisher. He said I didn't need to worry about it. I mentioned that it appeared to have been really low anyway and mentioned that the smoke detector (which is hard-wired into the house) wasn't working properly. I pointed out that I had alerted him to these malfunctions and hopefully avoided a disaster. Basically, I saved his life.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
(And he didn't even say "Thank you!")
Sunday, January 21, 2007
ALPHABET SOUP
I spent the afternoon with some good friends, one of whom works for a certain large communications company. I won't say the company's name, but will say that apparently it has been going through some sort of identity crisis. It keeps changing its name. On the other hand, the frequent name changes could be attempts to avoid creditors, or maybe its ducking alimony payments to former spouses.
Anyway, one of its subsidiaries went through its own name change this weekend. This was an event so huge that Stephen Colbert had to explain it for us.
Anyway, one of its subsidiaries went through its own name change this weekend. This was an event so huge that Stephen Colbert had to explain it for us.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
IDIOT SON-IN-LAW
I received a package in the mail earlier this week. The return address said "Idiot Son-In-Law."
He had found Meghan's present that we all thought he had lost. It was found on top of a filing cabinet in his office.
I told him to quit beating up on himself; we'll do that for him, especially at future Christmases. "Remember the year that Tim lost Meghan's present?"
He had found Meghan's present that we all thought he had lost. It was found on top of a filing cabinet in his office.
I told him to quit beating up on himself; we'll do that for him, especially at future Christmases. "Remember the year that Tim lost Meghan's present?"
Friday, December 29, 2006
THE LOST CHRISTMAS
My post below this, Christmas by Jenni, left out some of the major highlights of our Christmas. Such as, the numerous searches conducted for the numerous items that went missing this holiday season.
Friday night: Luggage. Mom swore a piece of luggage was missing. We searched cars, rooms and memories and it was determined all pieces of luggage were present and accounted for. What was missing was an item Mom thought she had packed. She had to endure the holidays without whatever it was she had packed in it. Since she and Dad had 5 suitcases between them, I felt confident she was well supplied in spite of the missing luggage.
Sunday night: Meghan's gift. I thought I was being so smart by having some of the items shipped so I didn't have to pack them and lug them up to Jenni's and Tim's. I had ordered something online for both Jenni and Meghan and had them shipped to Tim. Due to availability, two shipments were involved. When I went to wrap the gifts, Meghan's was missing. Tim remembered bringing it home from the office, but after that, nothing. It had apparently evaporated. We searched offices, closets, drawers and the sofa. Sofa? Yes. Because. Never found it.
Monday night: Cellphone. Tim lost his cellphone. So we searched cars, pants pockets, hoodie pockets, closets, drawers and the sofa. Again. It was found in a nook and/or cranny of Tim's car and it showed 9 missed calls. We kept calling it hoping to hear it.
Tuesday morning, early, when we should have left for the airport: Keys to the rental car. eeeeeeeeeeeek!!! Dad walked out to the garage, looked up on the hooks where keys are kept and asked, "Where are the keys?" I pointed out that he was the last one to drive the car. I heard an "uh oh" and he went into his room. I looked around at all the luggage and wondered just what he was going to search in his room. He came back out and started searching the sofa.
"Trust me", I said, "It's not there. Not unless you came out here in the middle of the night and dropped them there." He looked anyway. Then we started looking in luggage. And found them.
I grabbed them and hurried out to the car, announcing over my shoulder that I would back the car into the garage so we could load it out of the cold wind. I opened the garage door and found our car was an icicle. I started it, cranked up all of the heaters, defrosters and such and we started loading it while it was IN the wind. Meghan tried to scrape the windows by was having no luck.
FINALLY, the car was scraped, the luggage was loaded and we were on our way to the airport in Kansas City.
Five minutes later, from the backseat: I heard rustle, rustle, rustle. The unmistakable sound of Mom searching her purse. In the dark. I asked, "Do you need me to turn on the light?"
"No, I'm OK." rustle, rustle, rustle "I'm just looking for my photo ID."
I turned on the light.
About 15 miles later, it was found.
Jenni and Tim had left a couple of hours before us and were headed to Florida. Mom and Dad went to Texas and Meghan and I came back to St. Louis.
This evening, I got a call from my sister in Texas. "Have you heard from Mom and Dad?"
No
"They should be home by now."
I checked, their flight came in 3:00, it was now 7:30.
Oh great. They were missing and their cellphone was dead. We were discussing how to proceed. Then Dad called. They sat on the tarmac in Houston for a long time due to air traffic (and storms, I'm sure). After they landed, they found only one suitcase. The rest is missing.
I quit.
Friday night: Luggage. Mom swore a piece of luggage was missing. We searched cars, rooms and memories and it was determined all pieces of luggage were present and accounted for. What was missing was an item Mom thought she had packed. She had to endure the holidays without whatever it was she had packed in it. Since she and Dad had 5 suitcases between them, I felt confident she was well supplied in spite of the missing luggage.
Sunday night: Meghan's gift. I thought I was being so smart by having some of the items shipped so I didn't have to pack them and lug them up to Jenni's and Tim's. I had ordered something online for both Jenni and Meghan and had them shipped to Tim. Due to availability, two shipments were involved. When I went to wrap the gifts, Meghan's was missing. Tim remembered bringing it home from the office, but after that, nothing. It had apparently evaporated. We searched offices, closets, drawers and the sofa. Sofa? Yes. Because. Never found it.
Monday night: Cellphone. Tim lost his cellphone. So we searched cars, pants pockets, hoodie pockets, closets, drawers and the sofa. Again. It was found in a nook and/or cranny of Tim's car and it showed 9 missed calls. We kept calling it hoping to hear it.
Tuesday morning, early, when we should have left for the airport: Keys to the rental car. eeeeeeeeeeeek!!! Dad walked out to the garage, looked up on the hooks where keys are kept and asked, "Where are the keys?" I pointed out that he was the last one to drive the car. I heard an "uh oh" and he went into his room. I looked around at all the luggage and wondered just what he was going to search in his room. He came back out and started searching the sofa.
"Trust me", I said, "It's not there. Not unless you came out here in the middle of the night and dropped them there." He looked anyway. Then we started looking in luggage. And found them.
I grabbed them and hurried out to the car, announcing over my shoulder that I would back the car into the garage so we could load it out of the cold wind. I opened the garage door and found our car was an icicle. I started it, cranked up all of the heaters, defrosters and such and we started loading it while it was IN the wind. Meghan tried to scrape the windows by was having no luck.
FINALLY, the car was scraped, the luggage was loaded and we were on our way to the airport in Kansas City.
Five minutes later, from the backseat: I heard rustle, rustle, rustle. The unmistakable sound of Mom searching her purse. In the dark. I asked, "Do you need me to turn on the light?"
"No, I'm OK." rustle, rustle, rustle "I'm just looking for my photo ID."
I turned on the light.
About 15 miles later, it was found.
Jenni and Tim had left a couple of hours before us and were headed to Florida. Mom and Dad went to Texas and Meghan and I came back to St. Louis.
This evening, I got a call from my sister in Texas. "Have you heard from Mom and Dad?"
No
"They should be home by now."
I checked, their flight came in 3:00, it was now 7:30.
Oh great. They were missing and their cellphone was dead. We were discussing how to proceed. Then Dad called. They sat on the tarmac in Houston for a long time due to air traffic (and storms, I'm sure). After they landed, they found only one suitcase. The rest is missing.
I quit.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
CHRISTMAS BY JENNI
Once upon a time, in a land far away (Chicago in the early 1980's), I had embroidered small wall hangings for the Italian aunts who hosted the family Christmas dinners, Auntie Julia (a/k/a Auntie Cheech) and Auntie Yolle. The embroidered work had a white background with "Christmas by Julia" and "Christmas by Yolle" embroidered in red. My daughters told me their aunts hung up the small ovals every Christmas, even after I was no longer a part of the family.
Those two dear souls have since left us; Julia passed away several years ago and Yolanda left us a year ago last August. The legacy they left was wonderful memories of Christmas featuring their homemade ravioli. Neither one had daughters, and Yolle's sons have no interest in cooking, yet their nieces and grandnieces have picked up the baton and have continued the tradition.
Aunties Cheech and Yolle spent about three days on the preparations; one day for the filling, one day for the pasta and filling them; and one day for the sauce. When they could no longer manage it on their own, it took several nieces, sisters and sisters-in-law to help out. It takes a village to make the meal. Well, several villages; Elmwood Park, River Forest, Lake Forest, Des Plaines and Hinsdale. From the stories I've heard, a wonderful bonding experience.

This year is Jenni's and Tim's first Christmas in their new home and Jenni wanted to continue the tradition, even though the preparations would be made with the non-Italian side of the family. But once upon a time, I did have personal instructions from Auntie Yolle on how to make the ravioli.
Jenni had the filling ready by the time we got there, and that Saturday, we prepared the pasta.

Jenni prepares the dough......
.....and starts kneading it.
Then the rolling started.

Jenni kept imitating her aunts; "Tinner, tinner!" she'd say. "If you tink it's tin enough, keep rolling to make it tinner."

Tim's t-shirt either expressed his thoughts on the process or he was early for Talk Like A Pirate Day. (Actually, it was the name of his basketball team)

Mom and Meghan filled the raviolis and cut and crimped them. Mom had difficulty getting into it. We had just started rolling out the dough and she said, "If this doesn't work, we can always make a pot roast."

We assured her it WAS going to work.
She also mentioned that McDonald's was going to be closed on Christmas Day and suggested a back-up plan.
We've alwaysaccused her kidded around about the fact that my sister Carol is the Golden Child. She can do no wrong. During the rolling process, Mom mentioned that Carol prepared the perfect Christmas dinner when she and Dad were there the week before; she popped a frozen lasagna into the oven and didn't have to deal with the fuss and muss. But then, Mom and Carol don't enjoy cooking, whereas I do and Jenni and Meghan are developing nicely in that area.


But we wore Mom out and she headed for the couch.

And then.......... it was Christmas morning!

Jenni also prepared another traditional meal in her family; Christmas breakfast of Aebelskivers, fried apples and bacon.

I was usually the first one awake in the morning and asked Jenni if there was anything she wanted me to start when I woke up. She told me that she could handle it. Christmas morning, she was awake before I was. My assignment was cooking the bacon and sausage. Other than asking me a couple of questions, Jenni handled the fried apples and aebelskivers herself and did a wonderful job.
Later, Tim confided in me that Jenni set her alarm to make sure she was up before me to make sure I didn't get things started before her.
And then it was time for the presents:




By the way, you may have noticed the presence of a dog.

This is Sammy. I accused Jenni and Tim of renting a dog for the holidays, but they were dog sitting. They were also cat sitting, but they didn't have the cat at the house; Tim went to the cat's home every morning and evening. I always thought cats were fairly self-reliant, but this cat needs specially prepared food and apparently is a bit of a diva. Jenni mentioned that in their small town, those that stay at home for the holidays end up doing the pet sitting.
They did enjoy having Sammy and are considering getting a dog. Even though it means getting up early in the morning for dog chores.
For the early morning walk, Jenni "walked the dog" by standing on the steps to the deck holding the leash while Sammy did the walking in the back yard.

And then it was time for the ravioli.


They were good. Since my parents didn't seem overwhelmed by the idea, we also prepared steaksoup as a back-up for them.

Meghan sneaks in with the devilled eggs she prepared.

Following dinner, there were the traditional post-pasta comas....


And then the football game.

The next morning, we all headed to the airport and went in different directions; Jenni and Tim to Florida, Mom and Dad to Texas to visit my younger sister Janice, and Meghan and I back to St. Louis.
I think for future ravioli making, I'm going to buy a pasta machine. It has no difficulty with the "tinner tinner" and your arms don't hurt as much the next day. (I left that part out. Our arms were KILLING us. On top of that, Meghan put guns to our heads and made Jenni and I go to the gym and work out, so other muscles were sore as well.) For the purists in the crowd, the pasta machine I have in mind is made by Italians. I'm willing to loan it out and would ask for nothing in return.
Except for the family brigidini recipe.
:)
Those two dear souls have since left us; Julia passed away several years ago and Yolanda left us a year ago last August. The legacy they left was wonderful memories of Christmas featuring their homemade ravioli. Neither one had daughters, and Yolle's sons have no interest in cooking, yet their nieces and grandnieces have picked up the baton and have continued the tradition.
Aunties Cheech and Yolle spent about three days on the preparations; one day for the filling, one day for the pasta and filling them; and one day for the sauce. When they could no longer manage it on their own, it took several nieces, sisters and sisters-in-law to help out. It takes a village to make the meal. Well, several villages; Elmwood Park, River Forest, Lake Forest, Des Plaines and Hinsdale. From the stories I've heard, a wonderful bonding experience.

This year is Jenni's and Tim's first Christmas in their new home and Jenni wanted to continue the tradition, even though the preparations would be made with the non-Italian side of the family. But once upon a time, I did have personal instructions from Auntie Yolle on how to make the ravioli.
Jenni had the filling ready by the time we got there, and that Saturday, we prepared the pasta.

Jenni prepares the dough......
.....and starts kneading it.Then the rolling started.

Jenni kept imitating her aunts; "Tinner, tinner!" she'd say. "If you tink it's tin enough, keep rolling to make it tinner."

Tim's t-shirt either expressed his thoughts on the process or he was early for Talk Like A Pirate Day. (Actually, it was the name of his basketball team)

Mom and Meghan filled the raviolis and cut and crimped them. Mom had difficulty getting into it. We had just started rolling out the dough and she said, "If this doesn't work, we can always make a pot roast."

We assured her it WAS going to work.
She also mentioned that McDonald's was going to be closed on Christmas Day and suggested a back-up plan.
We've always


But we wore Mom out and she headed for the couch.

And then.......... it was Christmas morning!
Jenni also prepared another traditional meal in her family; Christmas breakfast of Aebelskivers, fried apples and bacon.

I was usually the first one awake in the morning and asked Jenni if there was anything she wanted me to start when I woke up. She told me that she could handle it. Christmas morning, she was awake before I was. My assignment was cooking the bacon and sausage. Other than asking me a couple of questions, Jenni handled the fried apples and aebelskivers herself and did a wonderful job.
Later, Tim confided in me that Jenni set her alarm to make sure she was up before me to make sure I didn't get things started before her.
And then it was time for the presents:




By the way, you may have noticed the presence of a dog.

This is Sammy. I accused Jenni and Tim of renting a dog for the holidays, but they were dog sitting. They were also cat sitting, but they didn't have the cat at the house; Tim went to the cat's home every morning and evening. I always thought cats were fairly self-reliant, but this cat needs specially prepared food and apparently is a bit of a diva. Jenni mentioned that in their small town, those that stay at home for the holidays end up doing the pet sitting.
They did enjoy having Sammy and are considering getting a dog. Even though it means getting up early in the morning for dog chores.
For the early morning walk, Jenni "walked the dog" by standing on the steps to the deck holding the leash while Sammy did the walking in the back yard.
And then it was time for the ravioli.


They were good. Since my parents didn't seem overwhelmed by the idea, we also prepared steaksoup as a back-up for them.

Meghan sneaks in with the devilled eggs she prepared.

Following dinner, there were the traditional post-pasta comas....


And then the football game.

The next morning, we all headed to the airport and went in different directions; Jenni and Tim to Florida, Mom and Dad to Texas to visit my younger sister Janice, and Meghan and I back to St. Louis.
I think for future ravioli making, I'm going to buy a pasta machine. It has no difficulty with the "tinner tinner" and your arms don't hurt as much the next day. (I left that part out. Our arms were KILLING us. On top of that, Meghan put guns to our heads and made Jenni and I go to the gym and work out, so other muscles were sore as well.) For the purists in the crowd, the pasta machine I have in mind is made by Italians. I'm willing to loan it out and would ask for nothing in return.
Except for the family brigidini recipe.
:)
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
FROZEN
I love my iPod. Except when it quits working on me, which it has done on numerous occasions since Thanksgiving. Like a good little iPod owner, I checked the online support option and found this is somewhat of a common occurrence, and that it is easily fixed by "rebooting" the device.
But my iPod won't reboot. To get it to work again, I have to let the battery run down and then hook it up to my computer and then all is well.
Until it freezes up again.
Since I'm on vacation this week, I took the opportunity to call Apple technical support. The tech guy who was obviously sitting at a desk in the Phillipines determined that my device is broken and scheduled an appointment for me with a "Genius" at my local Apple Store. Seriously. The tech guys at the Apples Stores are called "Geniuses".
Genius Chris happily informed me that my iPod works. I told him that it freezes up. He happily showed me how to "reboot it", which is done by simultaneously pushing down on the "menu" area and the "select" area of the wheel. I happily told him I'd done that repeatedly all day, with no luck.
He rebooted, then handed it to me to try.
I failed.
He rebooted, then handed it to me again to try.
I failed.
Rinse. Repeat.
It was determined that my nails get in the way. Genius Chris told me something I had not read in any of the Apple FAQ's or message boards; my fingers have to touch the wheel to get it to work properly. Anything nonhuman will not work due to-- um-- a fancy word I SWORE I would not forget, but apparently have. It's a word that starts out like "capacity", but in the middle of the word, vears off and ends up as a different word. Which I can't remember.
Anyway, my nails interfere with the capaciwhateverness of the wheel. So I used my knuckles to reboot.
It worked.
It looked awkward and silly, but it worked.
I left the Apple Store a happy woman. Until I realized, I still don't know why my iPod freezes up. I just know that now I can get it to knuckle under and reboot.
Baby steps.
But my iPod won't reboot. To get it to work again, I have to let the battery run down and then hook it up to my computer and then all is well.
Until it freezes up again.
Since I'm on vacation this week, I took the opportunity to call Apple technical support. The tech guy who was obviously sitting at a desk in the Phillipines determined that my device is broken and scheduled an appointment for me with a "Genius" at my local Apple Store. Seriously. The tech guys at the Apples Stores are called "Geniuses".
Genius Chris happily informed me that my iPod works. I told him that it freezes up. He happily showed me how to "reboot it", which is done by simultaneously pushing down on the "menu" area and the "select" area of the wheel. I happily told him I'd done that repeatedly all day, with no luck.
He rebooted, then handed it to me to try.
I failed.
He rebooted, then handed it to me again to try.
I failed.
Rinse. Repeat.
It was determined that my nails get in the way. Genius Chris told me something I had not read in any of the Apple FAQ's or message boards; my fingers have to touch the wheel to get it to work properly. Anything nonhuman will not work due to-- um-- a fancy word I SWORE I would not forget, but apparently have. It's a word that starts out like "capacity", but in the middle of the word, vears off and ends up as a different word. Which I can't remember.
Anyway, my nails interfere with the capaciwhateverness of the wheel. So I used my knuckles to reboot.
It worked.
It looked awkward and silly, but it worked.
I left the Apple Store a happy woman. Until I realized, I still don't know why my iPod freezes up. I just know that now I can get it to knuckle under and reboot.
Baby steps.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
DAWNING OF CHRISTMAS EVE
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
GUESS THE WEIGHT
Her Royal Highness, Princess Meghan, is home for the holidays. For 16 hours. At noon today, she heads to Upstate New York to visit her boyfriend and his family for a week. As she was packing last night, we were trying to figure out if she's going to have to pay for excess baggage. I say it's a given. Her suitcase includes her gift for her boyfriend (skates), three pairs of shoes -- two of which are boots--she IS my daughter after all-- and winter clothes for a week.
I warned her that she's taking the same suitcase I used when I went to visit her in New York this summer and I had to remove two pairs of shoes and toiletries to keep from paying the excess baggage fee.

Differences between what I packed and what she's packing:
1. Summer clothes v. winter clothes
2. Sandals v. boots
3. Two knock-off designer purses v. skates
She wants me to follow her into the airport with a separate bag in the event she has to offload some items and put them into a carryon. I don't need my crystal ball for that; she's going to need a second bag.
OK, so how much do you think this suitcase weighs? Hint: this summer, my suitcase was four pounds over at 54 lbs.
UPDATE: The actual retail weight of the suitcase was 54.3 lbs. HOWEVER, the results are skewed. Before going to the airport, Meghan took out some cosmetics, gave one pair of boots a rest for the week, and put another pair in her backpack. When she found out the bag was still overweight, she put the skates in a totebag and put the boots back into the suitcase. Result: 50.0 lbs. And some not happy people behind her in line who had to wait for her to do the switching.
I warned her that she's taking the same suitcase I used when I went to visit her in New York this summer and I had to remove two pairs of shoes and toiletries to keep from paying the excess baggage fee.

Differences between what I packed and what she's packing:
1. Summer clothes v. winter clothes
2. Sandals v. boots
3. Two knock-off designer purses v. skates
She wants me to follow her into the airport with a separate bag in the event she has to offload some items and put them into a carryon. I don't need my crystal ball for that; she's going to need a second bag.
OK, so how much do you think this suitcase weighs? Hint: this summer, my suitcase was four pounds over at 54 lbs.
UPDATE: The actual retail weight of the suitcase was 54.3 lbs. HOWEVER, the results are skewed. Before going to the airport, Meghan took out some cosmetics, gave one pair of boots a rest for the week, and put another pair in her backpack. When she found out the bag was still overweight, she put the skates in a totebag and put the boots back into the suitcase. Result: 50.0 lbs. And some not happy people behind her in line who had to wait for her to do the switching.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
YULETIDE QUESTIONS
1. If you receive a present before Christmas, do you open it then or put it under the tree and wait until the Official Present Opening Time?
2. Have you ever snuck in and opened a present early, then tried to reseal it and pretend you hadn't done that.
3. If you DID open it early, did it ruin Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza/Winter Solstice/Festivus for you?
2. Have you ever snuck in and opened a present early, then tried to reseal it and pretend you hadn't done that.
3. If you DID open it early, did it ruin Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza/Winter Solstice/Festivus for you?
Saturday, December 02, 2006
CAPTION CONTEST, PART DUCKS
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
CAPTION CONTEST!!!
OK, Boys and Girls, it's Caption Contest Time!! Come up with either a caption or a quote for one or more of the participants in this photo.

I'll start. For "W", "Hoo boy. How many days between now and January 20, 2009? Now would be a good time to know math."
The contest will close, um, sometime this weekend, and there will probably be a prize. I'll dig around in the blog closet to see if I can find one.
So, submit your entries now.
(decision of the judge(s) will be purely subjective)
I'll start. For "W", "Hoo boy. How many days between now and January 20, 2009? Now would be a good time to know math."
The contest will close, um, sometime this weekend, and there will probably be a prize. I'll dig around in the blog closet to see if I can find one.
So, submit your entries now.
(decision of the judge(s) will be purely subjective)
Friday, November 24, 2006
THANKFUL
I've been doing a fair amount of traveling the last couple of weeks; mostly visiting family.
First, there was the trip to visit Meghan.

I had planned to just spend one night, but ended up getting a late start AND making the trip during thunderstorms, floods, tornadoes and a leaking sunroof. The normally 3 1/2 hour trip ended up taking 5 hours; 2 1/2 of which I spent treading water while driving. After all of that, I figured we deserved to spend the entire weekend together rather than a quick overnight visit; so I cancelled my Saturday night plans and we went out to dinner.
Since it was the first weekend of the lights at Patti's 1880 Settlement, we figured it would be the perfect place for dinner. And it was.


The following weekend, I flew up to visit Jenni and Tim. OF COURSE, I had issues at the security gate. Wanting to make things as easy as possible, I put all of my electronic devices and power cords into their own zip lock baggies; and put some makeup in another one.
BUT, my bags were withheld for "bag check".
I made the mistake of taking this purse. I hadn't used it for awhile, and at the security gate, I remembered why: THINGS hide in that purse. The security person found an errant bottle of nail polish and declared that they would have to confiscate it.
I asked why.
I was told because it was not in a ziplock baggie.
Seriously.
So, I picked up the baggie containing the makeup, unzipped it, and she dropped it into the baggie. I was then able to take it with me; the flight apparently being safe since the bottle of OPI polish was secure in a baggie.
(imagine me rolling my eyes)
During the weekend, Jenni and Tim celebrated the 29 months of their marriage by getting the top layer of the wedding cake out of the freezer, defrosting it and serving it for breakfast Saturday morning.


The reason for getting it out of the freezer MAY have had more to do with needing room than wanting to celebrate 29 months of wedded bliss. It wasn't a reflection on the marriage; just a reflection on the fact that the space in the freezer was REALLY needed.
By the way, we each took a bite and then threw it out. While it tasted OK, we just couldn't get past the idea we were eating 2 1/2 year old frozen cake.
While I was there, Jenni asked for my help with making some curtains for their bathroom.

??
Jenni apparently got me confused with her OTHER mother because, basically, I don't sew. Oh, I made curtains for her room and Meghan's room when they were babies. But that was last century, for crying out loud!!
Next on the agenda was decorating the house for the entree portion of a progressive dinner they were hosting on Sunday night.


Basically, it was pretty much a Martha Stewart Before The Incarceration Weekend.

And that's a good thing.
First, there was the trip to visit Meghan.

I had planned to just spend one night, but ended up getting a late start AND making the trip during thunderstorms, floods, tornadoes and a leaking sunroof. The normally 3 1/2 hour trip ended up taking 5 hours; 2 1/2 of which I spent treading water while driving. After all of that, I figured we deserved to spend the entire weekend together rather than a quick overnight visit; so I cancelled my Saturday night plans and we went out to dinner.
Since it was the first weekend of the lights at Patti's 1880 Settlement, we figured it would be the perfect place for dinner. And it was.


The following weekend, I flew up to visit Jenni and Tim. OF COURSE, I had issues at the security gate. Wanting to make things as easy as possible, I put all of my electronic devices and power cords into their own zip lock baggies; and put some makeup in another one.
BUT, my bags were withheld for "bag check".
I made the mistake of taking this purse. I hadn't used it for awhile, and at the security gate, I remembered why: THINGS hide in that purse. The security person found an errant bottle of nail polish and declared that they would have to confiscate it.
I asked why.
I was told because it was not in a ziplock baggie.
Seriously.
So, I picked up the baggie containing the makeup, unzipped it, and she dropped it into the baggie. I was then able to take it with me; the flight apparently being safe since the bottle of OPI polish was secure in a baggie.
(imagine me rolling my eyes)
During the weekend, Jenni and Tim celebrated the 29 months of their marriage by getting the top layer of the wedding cake out of the freezer, defrosting it and serving it for breakfast Saturday morning.


The reason for getting it out of the freezer MAY have had more to do with needing room than wanting to celebrate 29 months of wedded bliss. It wasn't a reflection on the marriage; just a reflection on the fact that the space in the freezer was REALLY needed.
By the way, we each took a bite and then threw it out. While it tasted OK, we just couldn't get past the idea we were eating 2 1/2 year old frozen cake.
While I was there, Jenni asked for my help with making some curtains for their bathroom.

??
Jenni apparently got me confused with her OTHER mother because, basically, I don't sew. Oh, I made curtains for her room and Meghan's room when they were babies. But that was last century, for crying out loud!!
Next on the agenda was decorating the house for the entree portion of a progressive dinner they were hosting on Sunday night.


Basically, it was pretty much a Martha Stewart Before The Incarceration Weekend.

And that's a good thing.
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