Saturday, December 16, 2017
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
The phone rang at 8 a.m., when I am barely considering being up. The kid was sick, and number nine to be sent home, before first bell. When I picked her up, she was wearing those stupid leggins. Possibly the fleece lined pair, otherwise, they're thin. A summer tee. The plaid blanket she received for her birthday. No coat. Less than twenty degrees out. Apparently delirious when she left, but was reprimanded for thin thinking, nevertheless.
Laura went back to bed until supper time, and so did I. In case I was catching something. After supper, Kay came over and, in her inimitable way, made my day.
She wants to make a quilt for her mother for Christmas. Math equals 25-12=13 days, if she gets up early to wrap it. Or, a day on the plane to Texas. Whatever. She thinks she and Laura can construct and quilt it in two evenings and one weekend. She might as well be a daughter of mine!
Today I started putting together the pinwheels. I'm not strong enough to rotary cut them, but I can sew them this far and then work on the cut pieces.
It is snowing something fierce, too. I have to get Laura after school to stop at her sponsor's house (academic year abroad) to get her paperwork signed. No, my steps are not shoveled, my car not cleared. I think I'll start at 2 to leave by 2:30. I need to engage a snow shoveler.
12:30. I have ninety minutes to sew some more blocks.
Sunday, December 10, 2017
Our neighbor Cathy recognized my distress, and offered to organize it. Back when my girls were in school, every birthday was celebrated at a restaurant of their choice with friends of their choice. They thought it was really cool, and you know what this teen-age inept mother thought.
This is what Cathy did. But, wait, it gets better. And, keep an eye on the helium balloons that go missing.
The party. Edibles were East of Chicago pizza, which we highly recommend. It's almost as good as Laura's homemade. And, root beer and cherry coke. And, thank God, water. And, Laura's fab cheese cake. Gone, gone, gone. No pictures.
We (the young women) saw Coco in one theater, and the organizer and her grateful neighbor saw The Orient Express in the theater next door.
Orient ended fifteen or so minutes before Coco, and Cathy and I stood in the lobby looking for a current picture of Kenneth Branaugh. Well, Cathy was all over her phone; I was amused. He did come up looking OK, though.
Then, Coco began exiting. First, a hall of adults, moving quickly and looking backward, followed by such howling and wailing. Literally, a sound chamber of banshees. The Coco adults were gone before our six teens arrived, some supporting others.
Laura, Lexie and Meredith were holding up Anneka, Annie and Kayla, the howlers. That was so SAD, the three wailed in unison. Cathy and I had splitting sides and sore ribs, both from holding it in and losing our composure.
It was dark and it was snowing, and it was time to get back, so three teens with composure and two adults with some composure, herded the three sad-o's to our cars. I had Meredith, Anneka and Annie. Before the door was shut, Anneka swooped up the balloons from the floor. "They're still here," triumphant and recovered.
"How will you get a hole in it?" Annie's little voice. "Just like that!" Alvin's chipmunk voice rejoined. "Oh, My, God," pass it to me. Don't let any out. Three chipmunks travelling home. Grandma (Jo by now) in the front seat, ribs aching, eyes streaming, Bob Dylan, Everybody Must Get Stoned...
Say ON-A-Kuh. It makes the story even better.
Saturday, December 9, 2017
My Uncle, Henry Rolf. One of the few World War II pictures I have. Uncle Hank was Transportation Corps, and moved supplies in convoys, over the mountains. I think he posed this picture for his family, back home. This was in France.
You know, I'm thinking this was still stateside. Those boots are too new.
Friday, December 8, 2017
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Monday, December 4, 2017
Sunday, December 3, 2017
The phone needs replaced, and sooner rather than later. Saturday was the day. I had her research what she wanted. I relinquished my card first to buy out the remainder of her phone. That hurt. The young man came from the stock room with her heart’s desire. Oh, yes, and mine, too, as my old phone is out of contract, and I figured I might as well upgrade to a MotoZ. Oh, yes, and the Hasselblad, too.
Today was interview day. I’d told Laura she should be thinking of everything she might be asked and how she would answer it. The couple of times I checked in, she seemed quite prepared.
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Monday, November 27, 2017
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Saturday, November 25, 2017
Today feels happy. The news isn't the worst I've ever read. I feel like knitting on the year old sweater and watching Harry Potter with Laura. I wish a good and happy weekend to everyone else, too.
Friday, November 24, 2017
A week or so ago I convinced Laura she needed a new coat. The kid is so cheap, or resistant, she won't entertain new, even with four inches of wrists exuding from the old coat. I finally drug her into Burlington, and walked behind her, carrying an assortment of Michelin Man coats, all black.
Suddenly she ducked through two racks, across two aisles, and wrapped her arms around the coat currently on her back. This coat matches nothing in my mental repertoire of potential Laura garments. It was "it", the one she wanted, no questions, no doubt. Thank goodness it fit. It's the color of my dad's army blankets, and apparently as warm.
Outside Kreiger's, our grocery, for a week's shopping. Kreiger's is a fascinating store, in the same family for sixty years, fresh vegetables, fruit and meats all year around. Check them on Facebook; you will smile.
A week's worth of grub in the basket. We meet at the checkout; she fill's the basket, I put the card in the machine.
My left shoulder has succumbed to degenerative osteoarthritis, and simply is too painful to use. It's part of the reason I picked flying to Wisconsin for Christmas. About Chicago my shoulder would rebel at changing lanes. I'm working through the protocol for a solution, short of a new shoulder. Not doing that.