Re-Fried Wednesday, Again

I am getting ready for vacation. I kinda chuckle a little bit as I type "vacation," because I am traveling fifteen hours in a car with four teenagers to get to our destination. Instead of thinking rest and relaxation I am caught between thoughts of Chevy Chase's Vacation and Little Miss Sunshine.
It's not that I mind having all the kids in the car. They are, actually, good kids; there are just....more of them than any sane person would take on vacation. I imagine the conversations going something like this:

Oh My Monday!

So, is it not bad enough that it is Monday? I wake up and stumble to the kitchen only to stumble through cat puke. Arghhhh. Seriously? Am I the only person on the planet that has a bulimic cat? My beautiful lilac point siamese is bulimic. He's been this way since I brought him home, during a November snow storm, thirteen years ago. At one point, I discussed this eating-disordered cat with Dr. Schemerhorn at Cornell's Small Animal Hospital, who told me that my kitty was so pretty he had to stare at himself (you see, Oatmeal is also semi-cross-eyed). Anyway, Dr. S. said that some cats have a sort of condition, which causes them to vomit after eating, especially if they eat a lot. So, there you have it. I do have a bulimic cat. I know this condition must be somewhat mental because when I tell Oatmeal he is getting "heavy," the vomiting increases in frequency. However, I did not say anything about his weight last night and, therefore, am just plain irritated at stumbling though a pile of puke.

Refried Wednesday

Here are my refried thoughts for today...

Seriously? Sarah Palin delivered cookies to a school in PA that is considering implementing a reduced sweets policy. Is she really that stupid?? She remarked that it is not government's place to be involved in school nutrition- that it is up to the parents to determine what their kids get to eat.  Ummm, yeah, this kind of thinking is what has contributed to America being the fattest (most unhealthy) nation in the world. Get a clue Sarah. You, above all others, should know that it takes a village. Today's parents are too busy, either by necessity or by choice, to be the Cleavers. And, the small percentage parents who are able to well-monitor and control their children's nutrition, must certainly appreciate schools who support their efforts with "healthy school foods." Again Sarah, you, of all people, should recognize this. Hello, Bristol-teen-mom. So, here is what I think. Spend less time playing devil's advocate with a school system which is, clearly, attempting to do right by their students and start focusing more on your own children. Isn't Bristol a little young to be frolicking about in skimpy outfits on a show like Dancing with the Stars? Or, have you just given up on Bristol's reputation anyway? And, why are you in the audience instead of home with your own children (and Bristol's) being sure that they are eating nutritionally? And, exactly HOW are you monitoring your children's caloric and fat intake while filming your new reality show? How about we applaud the school in PA for their efforts? Why don't we support the efforts and consider them a model-school rather than fatten their kids up with Sarah's cookies?
Sorry, Sarah, this was an epic FAIL.

Look at the Scars...

We all have scars.
The skinned-knee scar is an instant reminder to tie my shoelaces when bike-riding. The small, round scar, just below my 3/4 sleeve-line, a reminder of the chicken pox I had at nine years old. The C-section scar, a reminder of exactly when I really fell in love for the first time.
These are the scars that people can see; that, perhaps (depending on where they are), people inquire about. The scars that aren't so visible to others run much deeper; some are still painful and some still turn my cheeks red with shame or embarrassment, anger or humiliation. We all have them; they are the scars we don't talk about but we feel them and live with them every day.

First Day Back Layer Cake

I vividly remember what it was like to go back to school after summer vacation (or any extended time away). It was a mess of emotions; a layer-cake of fear, excitement, nervousness, and anxiety all topped with hope. It didn't help that I was a kid who would get homesick at the thought of being away from home. I can remember many first days back when all I wanted was to be back home; I am fairly certain that I even walked home and hid in our hall closet one time, but maybe this is just what I'd only dreamed about doing. Thankfully, the homesick feeling lessened with each passing year; had it not, I could have developed a huge problem with skipping the "first day back" once I was able to drive myself to school. The small break I took from this recipe (during my early twenties, and during the twins' birth to five years stage) didn't serve to dull my memory... or taste buds.

I Can See Clearly Now, the Rain is Gone

Another great weekend at Saranac!
It was really, really nice. And, for the first time, I acutally spent some one-on-one time with my step-mom. Can you believe it? Joan and my dad have been married for (more than five but less than ten?) years and this is the first time I was really able to spend some quality time with her. We dined with her friends, Marsha, Connie and John, after I arrived at Camp on Thursday evening. It was one of those lovely, warm, Adirondack evenings. Marsha made this wonderful chili-like dish (called something like Picadilly) that she served over rice. We, also, had toaster-oven brownies, made from scratch, and filled with peppermint patties. A semi-sweet riesling was my wine of choice and Joan finished off my Seneca Steamer (which I'd left at Camp last weekend). Conversation centered around stories of platform tents and the island on which their families all camped in the 60's. For the first time, I found myself wishing I were alive in the sixties and had experienced platform tent camping and summers on an island.

Creativity on the Rebound...

It's been so long since I last blogged that I seriously needed to think about my log-in information. How awful is that? I LOVE to write; I don't really consider it a chore or a task, rather a "release," but for the last month I've found my creativity at an all-time low. This is not a good way to feel. Thankfully, I was able to do a little recharging this weekend at Saranac...

Friends and Family ~ Adopted or Otherwise

With my BFF in town for the last couple of weeks, I've been ignoring my blogging responsibilities. I can't help it; we had so much to do and far too little time in which to do it...

The last week of Shelby's visit was by far the best. Of course, I've grown accustomed to having to share her when she is here on vacation but this year, I spent a huge amount of time with both "sides" of her family and didn't feel nearly as miserable about our too-little time together.  During her first week, we enjoyed Stauffeneker gatherings and outings and, last week, we spent time on Seneca Lake with John's families---the Davies and the Farleys. Having grown-up with Shelby's family, her family is like my own, slightly extended, family. I like spending time with her brothers and their families. It is terrific to see all of Shelby's nieces and nephews and I can never quite believe how much they've grown.
This year, I had the pleasure of meeting John's extended family--both the Davies and the Farleys. I feel as though I should capitalize PLEASURE or add some sort of animation to it because that is                 E-X-A-C-T-L-Y what it was to meet this terrific group of people.

Fun with a Friend, Fair Finds and The Ugly Chair Shop

I spent Saturday running around like crazy, a chicken with its head cut-off, if you will. While the early morning running was for "obligations," the afternoon was spent garage-saling with one of my very best friends, Victoria. As we headed out (around 1pm), we sort of wandered aimlessly. We didn't have a plan of action; figuring that we would "run into" a sale here and there, we just kind of meandered. Despite being aimless, I love garage-saling. I like the whole "recycle and reuse" concept and, well, you all know how I feel about shopping. I've never been picky about second-hand anything. My entire home is full of second-hand stuff from furniture to decorations. In fact, our "new" pool is even second-hand. I know some people who are appalled by garage sales and do not have the "one man's junk is another man's treasure" philosophy that I do. I figure it's their loss and a few less people I will need to compete against at sales and auctions...

Death of a Four-Day Weekend...

So, it's back to work today and I am here, mourning the death of a four-day weekend. My grief is not new, I've mourned this way before and I am all too familiar with the stages of grief I will experience today (thank you Elizabeth Kübler-Ross)...
1. Denial "It CANNOT be time to return to work."
2. Anger "Dammit, it is time to return to work."
3. Bargaining "If I go back today, I can call in sick tomorrow."
4. Depression "I am going to die here at work, what's the point of working on this stuff?"
5. Acceptance "I am here today, I may as well do some of this stuff."

Who Doesn't Love a Clean House!

When I returned home from work yesterday afternoon, I was astonished to find a clean kitchen. Not just clean--sparkling clean...thoroughly clean. At first, I was certain that my husband had come to his senses and found himself a new wife, one who actually believes that cleaning is a wifely duty. On second thought, I'd wondered if he'd really come to his senses, realized that he is stuck with me and finally hired a housekeeper. It never crossed my mind that one of the kids would clean. Why would it? I mean, they've inherited my "I'm-okay-with-the-mess" gene. It would, however, be remiss of me not to acknowledge that Miranda has been somewhat the oddity in terms of inherited genes. She tends to be a "cleaner;" at least when it comes to her bedroom. This seemed to begin about a year ago and, at the time, I'd worried that she was spending too much time with my sister-in-law who, #1 cannot sit still and #2 is an obsessive cleaner. In fact, she is so obsessively into cleaning that the standard "five second rule" about dropping food on the floor, would not exist in her house. "Oh, that piece of cookie has been on the floor for an hour? That's okay, this is Aunt Lisa's house!" "What, you made trail mix on the bathroom floor?? It's safe to eat, this is Aunt Lisa's house!"

Mom, I want a horse...and my nose pierced.

When someone first sees my daughters (and doesn't know me well) they ask the 'twin question;' "Are they twins?" Once this is answered and out of the way (yes), I am almost always asked one of three questions.
1. Are they identical or fraternal. (Identical)
2. Are their personalities alike?
3. Do they get along?

Kicking Off Summer 2010 with a Virtual Wish List!

I've admitted to my shopping obsession, so it will come as no surprise to anyone  I am kicking off my Summer 2010 Virtual Wish List. As summer kicks-off, there are a few things I absolutely know that I need for my summer outings. Now, purchasing these items is a horse of another color...Isn't that the saying? While it would be awesome to have the funds for my virtual wish list, it defintely "ain't so."

GratitudeLog ~ Curing the Monday Blues

Gra-ti-tude: The quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful.

GratitudeLog is a website where people come together to celebrate happy moments, send simple gifts of appreciation and brighten up each other’s day. It’s based on the simple practice of expressing gratitude daily for wonderful moments in your life.


Science has proven that people who express their gratitude daily are 25% happier and significantly healthier than those who don’t--and doing it takes as little as a minute a day!

And, yes, I just signed-up as a member. What better way to remind myself and others that I am grateful for the contribution(s) my friends and family make to my life? Here is the thing- I take a couple of minutes to update my FB status most days; so, why would I not take a few minutes to express my gratitude??

Bullies, Bullying and Blogging...

Gone are the days of stealing lunch money and shoving kids into lockers; today’s bullies are technologically-wise, using cyberspace as their playground of torture.

 Bullying has become, not only much more widespread, but much easier. Immediately stop thinking it's just the 'nerdy' boys with rolled jeans who are falling victim to bullying (think Ian and Wyatt in Wierd Science; or Duckie in Pretty in Pink) or the beautiful, blonde cheerleaders who are the bullies (think Mean Girls).

Zynga Games Zinging Facebook Users...

If you are a Facebook user, you've heard of the ever-so-popular Mafia Wars, YoVille and Farmville, just three of many games offered to FB users by Zynga Games. Though I kind of hate to admit it, I was a Farmville user until about two months ago. Now, I am thanking my lucky stars that I chose to opt out of the Farmville and Mafia Wars (and other) Zynga game apps and here is why...

Do you Etsy?

There is no doubt in my mind that I am addicted to shopping. And, like most genetic diseases, this addiction was passed onto me by my mother and I have graciously passed it onto my daughters.

When it comes right down to it, is the money worth it?

Back to work after a long weekend....Yuck.
Despite the rain and dreariness of a CNY end-of-May day, it doesn't seem right to be back at work after such a wonderful weekend. I feel as though I need to be away from work for a few more days. What I wouldn't give to be snuggled up on the couch at the Nob, watching the rain fall on the pond. What I wouldn't give to be anywhere...but here.

The Nob

Why is it that suddenly I cannot think of a thing to say? This never happens to me.

It must be blogger's-block.

Well, I will get past this blogger's block by focusing on the upcoming Memorial Day weekend--- when we will head out to the Nob (our camp), for the first time this year. Well, actually, it will be the second time; we were out there last weekend to see how some repairs were coming along, but we were only there for the day and, so, I won't count it as a "stay."

While I have a lot to do before we head out, my mind drifts repeatedly to all that I love about the Nob.

I cannot wait to hear the song of the bullfrogs in the late evening and early morning; I cannot wait to sip coffee on the deck overlooking the bunkhouse and the hills of Brooktondale. I cannot wait to hear the kids whispering ghost stories and daring each other to run down to the bunkhouse and back once darkness has settled in.