lost and forgotten

I really wanted to post pictures of some of the charming snowmen I've seen in our area, but alas!  I lost my camera over the holidays.  After digging and hunting, I finally caved and began calling around.  I left it at my sister's-in-law and will have it when she sends it to me.

I took Team Testosterone and 3 of their buddies to the sledding hill a couple weeks ago.  That's when we found only 3 of our 4 sleds.  Funny thing about when you leave a sled in the yard and then it snows and the sled disappears.  No one could remember exactly where they left it lie, so it's lost until the snow melts enough.

Then on Monday night I sent Mr. T to his Boy Scout meeting (about to finish one of those 3 merit badges, yo) with my phone.  He had basketball practice and needed to track the time so he could run from the VFW hall to the high school.  Because he's 13, he tossed the phone in the pouch of his hooded sweatshirt and somewhere between Boy Scouts and the gym it got lost.

I valiantly tried to call the number in hopes that someone found it in a snowbank or at the VFW hall.  No dice.  My handy-dandy flip phone's a goner.  After 48 hours I called off the search and went to the phone store.  Now I have a smart phone and I feel really stupid because there's a lot to learn.  It's got more bells and whistles than my laptop for crying out loud.  And it's touchy, too.  Took me almost half an hour to set up my voice mail. 

This morning Mr. D called me and I couldn't figure out how to answer it.  Yep, you guessed it, reader.  I'm lost.

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signed, sealed (by a notary public), delivered

True story: until about 8 years ago I thought "notary public" was a "note republic," which made sense in my mind since it involved stamping written documents, i.e. "notes" and we do live in a "republic" of sorts, according to my son's social studies textbook. If you ask me, "notary public" is a dumb looking phrase anyway. But I'm also someone who sung the lyrics to "Blinded by the Light" in a douche-y kind of way, so there you go.

What did I get stamped/sealed/authorized by a notary public? My paperwork making me an official candidate for school board. I'm making a run for public office this spring. I've put my money where my big mouth is. Well, actually I haven't put down any money. In fact, I left the form about campaign finance blank because will not accept any PAC contributions (unless Mr. Colbert wants to spring for some 7-course meals for my supporters). I won't be the candidate who sells out to special interests. I plan to run a clean campaign, no smearing the opposition, no mudslinging, just plain old stating my position on the issues so people know I'm really the best person for the job. (Actually, I barely know the 2 guys running for the seat, so I'd be hard pressed to say ANYTHING about them at all, other than one seems nice and helps coach...)

"All in," that's my motto for 2012. No more fretting and sweating on the sidelines (except at baseball games--I have no business rushing out on the field OR into the dugout. They can hear me fine from my spot in the bleachers). I'm not going to wish and kvetch this year, I'm going to push up my sleeves and twist back my hair and GET THINGS DONE. Our school district needs a little (okay, A LOT) of redirection. I'll get a seat on the board so I can spread around my awesome ideas.

That new motto also means my kitchen is about to get a makeover. It's blah and depressing. Not by the end of this month though! Stay tuned for a BIG REVEAL at the end of January.

I've got books to edit, a garden to fence, trees to plant, children to nurture and recipes to try. "All in" means less thinking and more doing. This means I'll need lot of energy to live up to 2012's motto, so I'm ramping up my cardio and spending more time praying. And I might start drinking more coffee, too.

"All in." Spill it, reader. What's 2012 going to look like for you?

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thinking deep thoughts

I've felt like I've stood at a crossroads for a long time, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. "The season of my discontent." I've fallen into a pattern of living the way others expect me to, a strange conformity to unspoken rules and unwritten laws. Strange fears govern my behavior and choices, and I don't understand how this has evolved. (I don't mean like I'm suffering mental illness, really. This includes how I dress the way "women my age in my town should dress" but who really dictates my dress code? Clothes are a small, silly example of what I mean, but it's the most tangible example I could come up with today.) Recently I read a quote that suggested one should live the life they imagine--I'd seen that quote before, but it struck a nerve this time. What's stopping me? I'm starting to ask myself this and I'm stepping back to examine my life. Is it possible to purge what I don't like and fill it up with what I want to do?

I'm considering my habits, my diet, my appearance, my activities, the way my house looks and the way my family interacts with each other and with our community. Everything is on the table right now and I suddenly feel like I've taken a step in the right direction.

What will remain of this life? What will change?

What does the life I want to live look like?

Spill it, reader. Are you living the life you want to be living?

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pain--gain

Here's the official report from my weekend at the dojo: almost everything hurts but I'm going to survive. Here's some Karate 101 for those of you new to martial arts: Training for a black belt test is a 2-month process involving hours of pushing through all the karate you know and proving your fitness with things like a 3-mile run and pyramid drills. Last time I did this, the head instructor was dramatic, wasting a lot of time and energy trying to get us to feel the pain of earning a black belt. This time around Mr. O's in charge and he's matter of fact. No screaming, no histrionics. He expects and demands a lot, but doesn't work the kids into a frenzy of wailing. I certainly appreciate how he gets down to business.

This round the candidates include 2 brothers testing for 3rd degree; a teenaged boy, me and 2 6th grade girls testing for 2nd degree; and about 7 kids testing for 1st degree. Because I'm testing for 2nd degree, I get to skip a lot of the B.S. (boring stuff, bull sh*t, basic stances--call it what you will) and head to the other room to work over 2nd degree curriculum like weapons. My fellow candidates decided we'll focus on the bo staff complex (easy), escrimas (easy) and swords (wicked tough).

Mr. O assigned our partners--mine is the teenaged boy, LI. He's at least a head taller and considerably stronger, big into wrestling and very militant. No slacking on his watch. Last time I tested my partner dropped out after the first night so I got paired with whichever instructor happened to be free to work with me. It's much different having my very own partner this time around. LI's a lippy kid, but we'll get along fine because I dish it back to him.

I taped up my left ankle for the first time Friday night and to my astonishment, that athletic tape gave me enough support to do 10 consecutive spin kicks on both sides and attempt some jumping I'd been loath to try before Friday. I came home sore, sweaty and pleased that my injuries won't hold me back.

Saturday we started training with our 3-mile run. My goal was to come in 4th--behind the 3rd degree brothers (18 and 20 years old, both in excellent shape) and my partner. I hadn't counted on one of the other candidates beating me, but I clocked a 27:53, no shame in that since I was hoping to beat 28 minutes. Then we hit the floor and worked on pads and body shields--hand combinations (like jab-punch-hook-punch) and kicks. My ankle still held up, but I got the stuffing knocked out of me absorbing my partner's kicks and punches. He drove me back a few feet every time he pummeled the pad--and I hold 2 pads to protect myself. Our "break" involved reviewing the bo staff complex and then we returned for more drills. My hands were shaking from punching so hard and getting punched so hard. I felt pretty stiff Saturday night, but this morning I woke up really cramped up. I can't even guess how many push ups and sit ups and jumping jacks and kicks I did. Hundreds of each would be a fair estimate.

This whole training/testing business is a huge demand on my time, especially during the weekends when Team Testosterone has flag football, soccer and assorted social events on the calendar. The physical part won't kill me, but it makes little things--like bending over to tie my shoes--more challenging than normal.

One weekend down and I'm still kicking.

Spill it, reader. How did your weekend go?

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resolutions

More of a to-do list, really. I came up with a short list of goals for the coming year because I'm a list-y kind of gal. If I don't write things down, they won't get accomplished. And as a forward-looking, progressive sort, I find New Year's goals push me more than keeping a vague idea in my head.

Let's see where we're at....

The 100 trees are ordered and paid for out of our land account. I'll pick them up sometime in April and plant them then.

The Milwaukee Public Museum checks off 1 of our 4 cultural events, so we're off to a good start on that count.

Eliminate one pile of junk. I did clear out the craft closet recently and send a bin of bits and baubles to Happyland Elementary's fabulous art teacher, but the real issue is this:
The photo albums. Good grief! I might have Mr. D lock me in a closet until they're updated and filed and finished. I keep sliding that pile back and forth when I vacuum. It's high time to tackle that mess.

Fix screens.
I took them off the windows and washed them last fall. I'll mend them next month because that seems like a good winter chore, right?

Paint laundry room. Yes. I did paint my laundry room two years ago, but ran out of paint. The end result is pretty sloppy, so I need to get another can of paint and finish the work. Then I need to organize that room, add more hooks for the boys to hang their jackets and backpacks, clean out the shoe basket, sort through the stuff that accumulates on top of my washer and dryer.


I'll get to it when it warms up a little.

Edge garden. Another summertime task.

Read 24 books. I read Jonathan Franzen's Freedom for January's book club and now I'm tag-teaming through Hillary Clinton's memoirs and the first Percy Jackson book. By next week I should have finished them both, so 1/8 accomplished. Not bad.


Compete in one karate tournament. This is my most personal goal of the year. I don't "do" karate in front of other people and I think tournaments are dorky. But I want to prove to myself that I'm better than average and the only way to pit myself against competition is to get in a tournament. I'll probably do a bo staff form and spar, but the next tournament isn't until April. Until then I need to practice every week.

Make homemade bread.

I posted about this resolution over at the Eco Women blog.
Go ahead, I'll wait while you follow the link.
So, in an attempt to make my kitchen less wasteful, my family's diet more healthy and save some dough (hahaha), the bread maker is permanently on my kitchen counter. It's not a "Sometimes" treat, I'm making bread every week. So far this is my biggest success on my list.

Spill it, reader. Did you set any goals for the year? The month? The season? How's your progress?

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the blue virgin

This month's FABULOUS is M.K. Graff's murder mystery The Blue Virgin. Marni's main character, Nora Tierney, is a virgin sleuth, and this book is the first in a series. Plus it takes place in Oxford, England. Trust me, if you like a good mystery, you want to read this book. I'm giving away one copy--I'll pull a name out of this week's comment box, so leave a comment to enter to win!


And speaking of virgins--yesterday's comments were great! They got me thinking about all kinds of things I've never done. I've never scuba-dived, gotten a tattoo, waxed any part of my body, had a pedicure or painted my toenails. I've never inhaled or injected any controlled substances, read The Kite Runner OR The Da Vinci Code, run for public office or had a C-section. I never knew ahead of time what gender my babies were--I never even dreamed about their gender! I've never had a vision, studied physics or calculus, bought fabric softener or sent a text message. I've never picked a lemon off a tree, surfed, skied downhill without falling, done Sudoku, bet on horses or dogs, gotten Hyacinth bulbs to bloom, or watched American Idol. I've never eaten alligator, seen a redwood tree, travelled to Asia, played chess, gone headfirst off the high dive, flown in a hot air balloon, understood how to jump start a car battery or gotten a rash from poison ivy.

Amazing I've made it this far, isn't it?

Spill it, reader. Share your "never did______" list and enter to win M.K. Graff's FABULOUS novel The Blue Virgin!

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much to report

It's gratifying to learn I'm not the only one with weird ocean-phobia. Don't forget to comment--today's your last chance to win January's Fabulous--I So Don't Do Spooky by Barrie Summy.

Things are heating up politically of late--I'm plotting how to Take on the Man regarding recycling and garbage pick up in My Fair City. I'm also taking a long hard look at school issues. I feel called (oh man, did I just sound like Sarah Palin there!) to do more than volunteer as Happyland PTA president...but the questions are where? what? how? I'm slowly gathering information to help me make wise and impactful decisions...

Mr. T started a youth wrestling program. By "started" I mean he's participating--he didn't get it started. Our oldest has yet to really find a passion for anything. He's been exposed to the gamut--guitar lessons, basketball, flag football, karate, soccer, baseball, swimming, Boy Scouts, cooking classes and art classes. We've bought him Legos, models to build, puzzles, books and hunting gear. This is the first time he's come home happy and enthusiastic after being made to work hard. Maybe it's because we have NO wrestling background in our household (I dated a few wrestlers back in the day...112, 119, 135 weight classes...but just because I dated wrestlers doesn't mean I ever watched a single match or anything). He's truly on his own with no real advice or guidance from us. Last night they handed out wrestling propaganda--wrestling is HUGE in this town (a legion of conference & state titles,we even boast an Olympic wrestler), and he had a poster and fan book gripped in his hands on his way out of the gym. The coaches are wonderful people, very kind, supportive and inspiring. Mr. D and I are holding our breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I almost hate to write about it, so desperately do I want Mr. T to get fired up about something! But so far, so good.

I've finished reading The Heiress of Water by Sandra Roderiguez Barron. Great plot, lovely writing, gave a lot to think about. I just started Abundance by Sena Jeter Naslund. I was intimidated by it's length (500 pages), but it's reading quickly. I've never read anything about Marie Antoinette and I'm not disappointed by this. On deck: The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory and The Savage Garden by Mark Mills.

Lady Violet, our beloved cat, has a gentleman caller. This huge shaggy black tomcat has sat on our front porch the last couple nights serenading her. And by "serenade" I mean yowling at the top of his lungs. Violet hasn't budging from her perch on the couch. He sees her through the window and paces madly back and forth. I imagine if he's bellering "Stella! Stella!" like this old tomcat:

My, what high-waisted pants you wear, Mr. Brando.
My how the bloom fell off your rose over the years...

In domestic breakthroughs, Team Testosterone has been trained to lift the toilet seat when they pee. I cleaned bathrooms on Monday and even today the seats are clean enough to sit on! Not a dribble! Not a drop! Their aim still leaves a bit to be desired--the floor around the toilet won't earn me any bragging rights with Martha Stewart, but clean seats! A major accomplishment. Next up: learning how to shut dresser drawers after opening them. We're aiming high, people. Well, we're aiming with the seat up.

Spill it, reader. What's happening in your neck of the woods lately?

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resolved

I'll entertain more this year--specifically two parties this summer.
I'll mail Hope's birdseed.
I'll keep the birdfeeders filled this winter.
I'll plant more blue spruce trees.
I'll finish my manuscript.
I'll get the family photo album updated (which will take only 3-5 months).

I won't lose weight (on purpose).
I won't stop eating chocolate or drinking coffee.
I won't become more organized.
I won't go to Europe (unless someone has a HUGE surprise planned for me).
I won't figure out what I'm doing next in my life (see previous parenthetical note).

Spill it reader, what will you do? Or not do?

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risky business

My class reunion is this weekend and since Mrs. G over at the Women's Colony invited us to take a risk with her this September I vowed to break with my grand tradition of avoiding my past (for 2 decades) by showing up. I'm quite content with who I am and where I am in life (losing 4 pounds through candidate training is icing on that cake) so I'm ready to go back--something I'm loath to do since I'm a girl wired to look ahead.

The whole idea of a reunion smacks of sentimentality and schlotz, but it got me thinking about who I was as a teenager (a truly despicable human being). But instead of laying it out there in black and white (large Times New Roman font), we'll play a little game called Two Truths and a Lie. I'm going to write 3 sentences, 2 fact, one fictitious, and you can guess which statement is total B.S.

1. I was a National Honor Society student, with cords to wear at graduation and a stunning GPS.

2. I served many hours of detention for skipping classes.

3. Physics, Sewing II and Trigonometry were my toughest classes.

And Sarah? You don't get to play this game, sorry!

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full moons make me howl

Yesterday I woke up and saw this moon from my back door. With temps in the 40's and sunshine all day, it had the same effect on me as a handful of No-Doze. I cleaned bathrooms, filed papers, sorted piles and put a cubic ton of toys in their proper places! I opened 3 windows and let the fresh air inside. It felt awesome.

Mr. G missed riding his bike and of course he found no better place to ride than this huge puddle in our driveway. By the end of the day he'd soaked through his snow boots, 2 pairs of rubber rain boots and a pair of tennis shoes.


These are foolish times filled with giddiness and anticipation. Mr. G will get Mr. B's old bike with the training wheels replaced. Mr. T will get a new bike and hand Mr. B his old one. I will order seeds from catalogs (porn for gardeners) with undaunted optimism (I never met a tomato I could grow well, but every winter I think I can do it). I'm making my spring cleaning list and signing my sons up for baseball teams and cooking class.

There is Spring in my step once again.

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