Fluid Pudding

1. Today I found myself at a place called Hibachi Boy with a friend who hadn’t yet seen the house. It was during our Hibachi Boy lunch where I learned many things, and here are three. First? I don’t like Pad Thai as much as I want to like Pad Thai. Second? When you leave your mind open, you can learn SO many fascinating things. Third? Breathing is important. It can rewire you if it’s done correctly.

2. Our family tradition is to hang Christmas lights on the house during the weekend after Thanksgiving. Because this house is a different shape than the previous house, we don’t even know where to begin, nor do we know if our lights will be approved by the people in charge of the subdivision. (We have our first subdivision meeting at the library tomorrow night, and the guy who used to live in this house was the vice president of the association. (I have no idea if it’s called an association. I read the signs, and then I immediately forget what they say, because I honestly don’t care about so many things.) Anyway, I am shaking in my boots at the thought of being grandfathered into an office simply because I use the same garage door opener as the guy who used to be second in command. I know what it’s like to be talked into being an officer and I’m one of the worst people when it comes to saying No. I’m going to fill my pockets with cookies tomorrow evening, because I rarely talk when my mouth is full. I would rather be known as Weird Silent Cookie Monster than New Vice President.) ((If you know me at all, you know that I won’t actually go to the meeting tomorrow night. I’ll plan on it, but then I’ll freak out less than two minutes before it’s time to head out because I can’t deal with people who might smell like what they ate for dinner.)) ANYWAY, today I noticed that three houses in the subdivision were having their Christmas lights installed by a landscaping company. This is something we will never do. We were also one of the few houses without a fire pit on Halloween. It’s just a matter of time before the neighbors start calling us Ponyboy and Sodapop Curtis.

3. Harper gets off the bus at 4:30 in the afternoon. I’ve been known to hang out in the garage to wait for her so I can walk her into the house. Now, because it’s stupid cold and I no longer love the cold because of what I *think* is something related to my no-regrets hysterectomy, I wait in the laundry room and watch the window for the bus. Sometimes I sing and run in place. Today was one of those days. SO, as I sang (Runaway by Self) and ran, I heard the bus three houses down. As it revved up for the 50 feet drive to our house, three deer walked across our front yard. I gasped and stopped running. When I stopped running, they took off down the hill. (Probably because it’s not worth staying if the lady in the window isn’t bouncing and singing.)

If I can somehow talk those deer into hanging out in our yard more often, we will immediately rise above the folks who are paying companies to come in and decorate their houses with lights. House With Live Reindeer is the rock to the scissors of House that Glows. This I know is true.

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I’m not trying to be vague. Just know that this has nothing to do with my kids or my freelance gig (although I received word today that I’m now officially employed by someone other than myself), and everything to do with what’s under my shirt. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This morning we went to church for the first time in several months, and there is no reason WHY we didn’t go to church for several months other than: Laziness. (Sure, we moved. BUT, we also watched a lot of Sunday Morning on CBS. The moving? Smooth sailing. Sunday Morning on CBS? It can be recorded and is just as enjoyable on Sunday afternoon.)

Today was the perfect day to go back. We talked about what’s going on in Ferguson and we talked about how some stories (both Biblical and present day) don’t always end the way we want them to end (clean and tidy and happy), but everything certainly happens for a reason and it’s up to us to live fully and ask questions and offer kindness to everyone regardless of their age or socioeconomic status or sexual orientation or political affiliation or whether or not they like raspberry filling in their birthday cake. We’re all different and those individual differences are often amazing and these are the things we teach our kids when they’re tiny, but then too many of us forget about it and live in a different way because it’s entirely too easy to be lazy. It’s entirely too easy to be mean.

(Please know that I’m not singing this stuff to you because I think you’re NOT living the way you should. I think we’re all right where we need to be right now. Tweaking is voluntary. Also, I LIKE raspberry filling. My kids? Not fans of raspberry filling.)

One more thing: Big things are going to happen very soon in St. Louis, and I couldn’t be happier to be part of a church who believes in justice and peace and living in ways that inspire change both locally and beyond.

I’m turning off comments for this one. Just know that I’m in a much better place right now than I’ve been for the past several months, and I hope your weekend has been a great one. (I ran out of my favorite tea, but we had a really pretty snowfall. It all works out.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This morning I woke up early, made cinnamon rolls for the girls (the kind in a can, because I’m no Ree Drummond), and showered.

Twenty minutes later, we put Ramona in a crate, picked Jeff up at the auto place (where our car is being repaired to the tune of many dollar signs), and drove east to the cat clinic where we learned that Ramona may have kidney disease. She also may have heart disease. She also may have neither of those things. We’ll go back in a few months for further investigation. Meanwhile, we’re supposed to spoil her with as much canned food as she wants.

At around 2:00, we headed to my parents’ house to share a chocolate eclair cake. It snowed. We drove home. I loaded Orphan Train onto my Nook. As I sit here and type, Jeff is playing the guitar and watching the Mizzou game. The girls are upstairs hanging out with each other. I’m thinking about jumping on Orphan Train while riding out some bath salts. (I just learned that the Indigo Wild company is in Kansas City. That’s only five hours away. They love dogs, they hate breast cancer, and everything they create is amazing. Let’s go.)

I can barely type right now because I have tears running down my face, and it’s all because of this:

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That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it and think how different its course would have been. Pause, you who read this, and think for a long moment of the long chain of iron or gold, or thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on that memorable day.
-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

I wouldn’t exist without these two, and I wouldn’t be who I am without their amazing example of What a Relationship Should Be. 50 years in, and they’re still going strong.

The happiest of anniversaries to my mom and dad. I hope today is just as memorable as November 14, 1964. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Why do our clothes smell good, you ask?
It’s a combination of the new washer and dryer and this:

(My fingers look like hot dogs.)

It’s crazy cold outside and I love it, but I’m cranky and will probably be spending the evening trying to figure out what book to read next. (I haven’t yet finished “Not That Kind of Girl” but it’s due at the library, so I’ll reserve it again when less people are interested. I don’t believe it’s the kind of book that demands to be read all at once.)

Tomorrow is the Last Quarter Moon. It’s also my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary.

Reverend Run of Run DMC was born on November 14, 1964 right around the time that my parents were walking down the aisle.

Reverend Run has a son named Diggy.
When I was seven, we had a dog named Digger.
And the world keeps on turning. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

It doesn’t matter where I was going, but please know that as I drove from our house to a place this morning, a bald eagle flew directly over my car and I flipped out in a really good way.

As soon as I reached my destination (Okay, it was Weight Watchers. I have to go once each month if I want to keep not paying them, and I definitely want to keep not paying them.), I texted Jeff.

Me: A bald eagle just flew over me during the drive to Weight Watchers. What does it mean?

Jeff: Freedom.

Me: I bet Jay Nixon had something to do with it.

And because I made a weak joke about our governor instead of singing a song about America and maybe ripping the sleeves off of all my t-shirts, my brakes started making a weird noise on the way home. (I believe in tragic levels of karma when it comes to eagles and brakes. Also, pigeons and standardized test scores.) When I left to pick Meredith up from school? The weird noise joined a bunch of other weird noises and it started to sound like an airplane was about to land on my car, so I had to make an emergency “Please pick Meredith up!” call to Jeff and he had to cancel a meeting and HEY, JAY NIXON!!! I VOTED FOR YOU!!!

Quick note to Elsiroomom: I’ve tried to respond to your questions, but both e-mails were returned as undeliverable! The Answers: “Not That Kind of Girl” by Lena Dunham, and Manos del Uruguay Clasica. (Their colors are amazing, and the yarn is a worsted single ply. It’s one of my favorites.)

Meredith came home from school yesterday and said some magical words.

Meredith: One of your dreams came true today.

Me: Stephen Colbert really DOES want to make out with me?

Meredith: No. A girl in Geography told me that my clothes smell really good.

Angels are singing. Bald eagles are flying. Airplanes are landing on my car. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

A few people have asked how I feed my family when they’re eating meat and I’m not eating meat.

One of the few things I can make that stirs up zero complaints is something we call crazy bowls. Picture this: a big bowl of rice, a big bowl of corn, a big bowl of tomatoes, some cheese, some ground beef, and some roasted vegetables.

Less than an hour ago, this was happening on my stove:

On the left you see ground beef. I don’t eat ground beef, but I *do* season it with cumin, sage, garlic salt, and pepper. On the right you see roasted veggies. Specifically, a sweet potato, some carrots, an onion, a squash, and some mushrooms. I toss everything in a bit of olive oil and season it with salt and pepper before throwing it into the oven.

When it’s time to eat, everyone builds their bowl with the ingredients listed above. Harp tends to go with rice, beef, and corn. Meredith does the same combination, but heavier on the rice plus tomatoes. Jeff piles everything on except for the roasted vegetables, which he eats afterwards. Tonight I went with only the vegetables, and I’m about to smoosh some avocado and some apple slices together for a snack.

All of this to say, I’ve got nothing for you today. I spent the entire morning and afternoon working on my project, and in a few minutes Jeff has volunteered to head to the store because I’m out of coffee. I’m not one of those people who acts like it’s a disaster to run out of coffee, but I will admit that my mood will be better in the morning knowing that I’m covered. Jeff? He’s a gem, that one.

Here’s hoping your Tuesday was good. I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The temperatures are dropping, so today I started a pair of fingerless mitts as I waited for Meredith to get out of school.

If I had less stuff on my plate and in my head, I would knit 100 of these and just leave them around town.

I’m currently listening to Amy Poehler’s “Yes Please“.

I’m currently reading Lena Dunham’s “Not That Kind of Girl“.

I have no idea why my quotation marks are going the wrong way, and I will now exercise self-forgiveness by leaving them as is, although it’s making me very twitchy. (I’ve already tried to correct them twice. No luck.)

I have 14 more chapters of freelance, and they have to be finished by Friday. They will get done! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

A few people have asked to see some photos of the house. Please know that we moved in on August 15th, and we’re unpacking as needed. It’s sort of a nice feeling to not have a lot of extras sitting around in need of dusting. It’s much easier to clean. BUT, as I look at these photos, I’m already starting to notice clutter. Clutter is entirely too easy for us. Why am I so nervous right now? It’s almost like you’re actually HERE here. (I hate that I’m such an awkward host.) Anyway. Onward.

When you walk into the house and look to the left, this is the room you see. It’s officially called Dining Room, but right now it’s the place where I blocked my cardigan and the place where I’ll eventually be sewing my cardigan together. (Right now I’m still too scared to sew my cardigan together.)

Straight across the hall is the library/office/dogs’ room/Harper’s Wonderful Room of Happiness, Dreams, and Peace. (Really. She made a sign and everything.) It has a closet devoted to my yarn and fiber. Bookshelves are slowly coming together. We do family breathing sessions in this room. Care for a closer look?

(Please know that the desk is going to be moved to the basement and I know this is a terrible photo. BUT, Henry was very pleased with his hair and waggy tail in this one, so I left it in.)

When you walk through the front door and take about five steps (with the dining room to the left and the library to the right), this is what you’ll see. It’s a staircase, a bathroom door, Scout, and a well-lit family room. The thing I love the most about this house is the natural light. Big windows. Not a lot of furniture which creates the illusion of space. Let’s take a look into that family room.

Here is the love seat. The dogs love it because the sun pours onto them during the afternoon which makes for the perfect nap scene. I can’t wait to sit on the love seat in my robe with my eyes on the snow and my hands on a mug of hot something or other.

To the right of the love seat is the fireplace. Sitting on the mantle is a ceramic vase made by Harper, a cardboard box full of Sidney’s ashes (I still need to find a good urn), a candle, a blue vase, an oil burner, a snow globe, and a concrete owl named Herbert (after my freshman year piano performance professor).

To the other side of the bathroom door that we saw earlier is the kitchen. It has an island, which seems to be a magnet for birthday gifts, mail, electronics, and cookie cakes.

Sometimes I’ll have something like this roasting in the oven.

Leading from the kitchen to the back yard are some doors, obviously. When you open them, this is what you see.

Now, if you hear your car alarm going off and you need to haul it back toward the front door, you’ll be presented with this.

It’s one of my very favorite things about the house. Again, so much light.

I’ll keep the upstairs upstairs for a bit, because I have no problem with showing you videos of me shoving marshmallows into my face, but I’m not so keen about showing where I sleep. (And in case you’re wondering? Yes. I’m once again sleeping. Sometimes for five to six hours at a time, which almost feels gluttonous.) Thanks for looking around with me. Honestly? I really don’t feel like I deserve to live in a house that’s this nice on a street with kind neighbors and a five minute drive to Target. BUT, the girls now have their own rooms, the dogs have lots of space to run around, and we’re far enough removed that we can see stars. I’m definitely not complaining. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>