I needed a good cry...

I've been on the verge of tears for weeks. Thursday night, I was finally able to release the dam of tears.

For those who are near and dear to me but live other places, I check their weather on my phone every day. It makes me feel close to them, like when it's snowing in Missoula, or windy in Chicago, I can picture my loved ones in their element (ha-ha.) We found out on Thursday that I will get to add another city to my daily weather checking. Our dear, close-as-family- friends announced they are moving to Reston, Virginia.

And while I know it's the right move for them (another unintended pun), it is breaking my heart. I love these peeps. They understand our quirkiness and our humor. For the past seven years, our families have gotten together as well as bread goes with butter. Their daughter is like a daughter to us. Our kids look to her as an older sister and mentor. They've been there for holidays, birthdays, championship games, vacations and anytime we need to unwind with some card playing fun.

We are the ones who usually do the moving. It's hard to be on the other side of things this time.

We will weather this storm. Our friendship can handle this.

Chick Update

Sorry I'm late posting the pictures we took on Monday. It's been a bit hectic around here. The power went out on Tuesday afternoon and didn't come back on until 9am on Wednesday. I was worried about the chicks since they lost their heat lamp during the outage. We heated water and poured it into hot water bottles. It was cute to see them all huddled together around the water bottles.

My sweet and loving husband was so worried about the chicks that he got up around 3:30am and heated new water for them. Who knew Brian could be such a farmer?

Here they are during their supervised play time in the yard.

Day 2 of chick raising

So far so good. I didn't sleep very well last night. I kept worrying about the babies. Kate and I are planning on taking pictures each Monday. The bigger ones were born on 2/22 (Kate's bday) and the two smaller ones were born a week later on 3/1.


I think Ruby Sue is going to be the dominate one. She's the one I picked out, so she must take after me. She also likes to step in her own poop. That's one thing we don't have in common.

Brian's bird is Sally Rue



Kate's is Roxy. She seems like she will be the sweetest and the quietest.


Brock's is Mel. She's the loudest....no surprise there.


And here's our family's joint chicken, Mabel. She likes to stand on the food bowl.



Group cuddling shot:


And last but not least, the best Chicken Coop Builder on this side of the state.

A storm is a-brewin'.....call in the chicks.

I don't know where the above phrase came from, but it's one of my all-time favorites and I say it every chance I get. Today, however, that phrase became real because we are now proud owners of five baby chicks. I've wanted chicks for years and finally Brian came on-board. We attended a Chick Class where we learned all we needed to learn (and more) about raising these cute bundles of fluff. According to the instructor, there has been a huge renaissance in back yard birds. After WWII, it became a "lower class" hobby, but as of lately thanks to books and movies exposing the food industry, people are taking their food back into their own hands.

Since three out of four of us are vegetarian, these new pet chickens will be only used for egg production. In fact, Brock said he may never eat chicken again now that he's held a baby chick.

I am pleased to introduce you to our newest family members: Mabel, Roxy, Ruby Sue, Sally Rue and Mel.




Ruby Sue and Sally Rue are Barred Rock Chickens. They will look like this:


Roxy is a Plymouth Partridge and will look like this:



Mel is a Rhode Island Red and will look like this:



And last, but not least, Mabel is a Golden Star. According to the farm store, she will be the most proficient egg producer.


The chickens should start laying around late July, so if you're in the area, stop by and we'll dine on fresh egg omelets.

Save the Blue Bird!

The other day, Kate and I were discussing the age-old question, "If the house was burning, and you could only grab one thing, what would it be?" She picked the blue glass bird that resides in our living room. I think the bird came from Brian's great Aunt Bert's house. Kate said the bird makes her feel peaceful and she likes how it feels in her hand.

I thought her choice was an interesting one. I would have guessed she would have picked a stuffed animal or a favorite book. (She did say she'd also want to take her money because we may need some cash and she would let us have it....PROGRESS!) Back to the bird, what I thought was so sweet about her choice, was that it wasn't just a pretty object, but it represented her home, her family, her love for us, her comfort. So much wrapped in blue glass.

A recent article in The New Yorker, talked about how smells can transport back to your childhood. The author also grew up in Kansas City and mentioned many spots that I grew up enjoying such as The Dime Store and Winstead's. Smells are powerful. I get transported to Judy's house, my childhood friend, each time I'm in the laundry detergent aisle. Her home always smelled like Cheer detergent. I can remember the upholstery smell of the big blue Buick....a mixture of air conditioning and stale cigarette smoke with a tinge of up-chucked Froot Loops. I have my old Frances books, such as Bedtime for Frances. The books are over thirty years old, but the pages still have a distinct and wonderful smell of my childhood.

In thirty years, what will transport my children? Guinea pig bedding? Mrs. Myer's cleaning products? The electronic smell of a computer screen?

Dual purpose lotion.

I've enrolled in a creative writing course through our local park's department. Last night was our first class and one assignment was to draw a memory map of your childhood room (or other memorable room). I mapped out my room from our Kansas City, Missouri house. Mapping the room brought back lots of memories (and it would be a fun activity to do with my brothers and parents.)

It was an old house and and at one point, my room must have been the sun room. Three out of the four walls were full of windows. Kansas City has some vicious thunderstorms and my bed was an old brass one. 5th or 6th grade science taught me that metal conducts electricity. Do you see where this post is going? Surrounded by windows, laying on a metal bed, during a thunderstorm made sleeping extremely difficult. Being a quasi-scientist, I knew that plastic was not a conductor so I would surround my body with lotion bottles to prevent me from being stuck. I would sleep soundly with Vaseline Intensive Care bottles stuck under my arms and legs.

Not only did it prevent me from having, dry and flakey skin, it could have quiet possibly saved my life.


Thanks to Google Maps, I was able to find a current picture of our old house. Technology is so amazing.

The find of 2010.

I know it's early in the year to declare the product of the year, but I'm willing to bet that I've found it. It's Psssssst. That's one "P", six "S" and one "T".

For years and years, I have felt the need to wash my hair every day. As I've aged, I've realized that my hair has really dried out. I know that daily shampooing isn't good for my hair, but yet I couldn't stop. Until now. I discovered a fine product at Rite Aid that is instant spray shampoo. The label on the back states:
Instant Spray Shampoo
Between shampoos-On camping trips
After sports- When ill
Any time you can't use water, Psssssst is the convenient, quick refresher for your hair.


Due to the label design, I was convinced this product was from the late 60's and had been on the shelf for years. That was until I noticed the website: www.psssssst.com

You can thank me later for discovering this product for you. Enjoy!

Amazing what they can do.

Saturday night the kids decided to rearrange Brock's room. Brian and I were in the midst of a very competitive game of Dutch Blitz and couldn't be bothered. (I won 167-2.)

All by themselves they moved furniture, including hoisting Brock's mattress up to his loft. Kate was in charge of making the bed and did a great job...complete with mattress pad and sheets. They drug the cast off furniture to the hall, where of course it still resides.

Proving to me that yes, they really are capable of doing big projects. The motivation has to come from within.

Shopping for banks....

Remember my post a couple back, regarding my banker daughter?

Brian normally rides his bike to work. However, after an unfortunate soccer accident, he has hurt his knee and can no longer ride and has been taking the bus to the ferry. It's a small time bus operation and you have to have exact change ($2). The other morning, he only had a $5 bill and needed change. I asked Kate if she could make change.

"See! I told you. You use me like a bank."
"Well, that's because you nicely save your money. I'm not asking to borrow any money, I simply asked if you could make change for a $5 bill."
"You are so mean."
"So, would you rather have Dad overpay for his bus ride? If so, that's $3 less we will have to spend for your birthday." (I know I was being mean, and hitting below the belt.)

She held her ground and didn't make the change. Now, to her defense, it was early in the morning and she was walking out the door for school. Brian should have figured out his money situation earlier, but what part of doing favors for each other does my daughter not grasp?

I am tired of the customer service I have been received at Bank of Katherine. It's time for me to shop around and find a new bank. Maybe I can get a free toaster out of this.

12!

12 years have passed since my little guy was born. 12 years since that long weekend in January when I went into the hospital to be induced on a Friday morning and Brock finally decided to join the party, just in time for the Super Bowl, on Sunday afternoon.

The time has flown by and while he isn't a little boy any more, there are still little boy things about him that make my heart soar. Like when he's tired and we are cozy on the couch. He will reach up and play with my hair, just like he did when he was little. Or when he'll asked to be tucked in to bed. It may be laziness on his part. His covers are always such a mess. But I'll take it. I'm sure by the time he's 16, he won't asked to be tucked in.

The little boy things are getting fewer and fewer. Now he's constantly texting or chatting online. Sometimes he puts on a bit of cologne. I once overheard a conversation with a friend and the two of them would make a sailor blush with all of their cussing.

No matter how old and how big, he will always be my Little Brockie Boy.