I like to use big words sometimes.

I know I haven't been around much this last week, but this is what I've been dealing with.


Well, this photo isn't exactly what my kids look like, but it's a pretty damned good pictorial representation of what I've had to put up with.

That's where the "Big Words" part of the title comes in.

Pictorial representation... *sigh*

Words like that help keep me grounded.

Because they help me remember that there are words that big people use... words that don't always necessarily involve bodily functions.

And it sure as hell beats using words like wee's and poo's, and sit, and NO!, and Charlie, you stop that, right this minute!

And Emma, if you keep eating your boogers, I'm going to make you a booger sandwich.. do you hear me?

And OMG James! Get OUT of there!
We do NOT swim in the toilet!!

I shall return to my regularly scheduled blogging... and reading of blogs just as soon as I can.

When the school holidays are finished.

If I survive, that is.

Feelin' decidedly Crabby...

Now isn't this the most beautiful thing you ever did see?

(that's Lee-Loubelle holding that baby, and I can just imagine what her finger-less gloves smelled like afterwards!)

Costco (God bless 'em!) had Dungeness crabs in on Sunday, and I just couldn't resist.
I mean, I haven't had Dungeness crab in... oh... I don't know how many years... Probably more than 10, but I'm one of those people who have to take off their socks to count past 10... and it's just too darn cold here to do that this morning!

But as soon as I saw these babies, my mouth started watering.
A lot.

So last nights dinner consisted of that beeeautiful crab, along with this:

Which turned into this:

I also garlic buttered and warmed some delicious rosemary and romano cheese french bread baguettes... and the meal was complete.

And I was completed.

100% Costco... all the way, baby!

My luverly weekend...

I have to tell you, I've never been so happy to see the backsides of my kids, as I was Friday evening.

Not that I'm ever particularly thrilled to see their backsides in the first place... but you know what I mean.

But it had been a long fortnight, with a lot of overnight care and hard-to-handle kids.

Not bad kids... Just ones with issues.

Anyway, once they were all gone, I managed to fit in a shower and a change of clothes before heading off to the Aspergers seminar Friday night... And I have to tell ya, the evening was a rousing success! (which means that I managed to more than stay awake through it.)

In fact, I think I can honestly say that it was one of the absolute best work-related seminars I've ever attended - bar none!

The speaker was great... he shared lots of personal - and funny- anecdotes and he kept us all riveted for 3 and a half hours.

Now I don't mean to toot my own horn here, but after decades of working with children on the Autism/Aspergers spectrum, I know a lot.

And I'm good at what I do.

I've learned a lot of my lessons the hard way, and by being completely hands-on... so I have pretty good insight into what makes most of my young charges tick, and I've learned - and implemented- the techniques needed to deal with them.

Most seminars I attend, along with the speakers who speak at us, are less than inspiring... and I can sit through hours of droning, repetitious, boring ear-bashing talk, thinking "well duh".

While I'm awake, that is.

They fulfill my annual course requirements... but that's about all.

But honest to God, this was the first speaker I have ever encountered who actually knew, from a hands-on perspective - what he was talking about. It wasn't just 'book-learnin' and repeating what he's read" with him... it was more a "down and dirty from working in the actual trenches" kind of thing.

Because not only is he a psychologist who deals with these kids on a daily basis, his son is on the spectrum as well... so his love and understanding of the subject came shining through.

And I got to bask in the glow.

By the time we got home, (I had taken 2 friends with me) my brain was firing on all cylinders, and I was walking on air.

I was feeling inspired and rejuvenated.

Which is a complete bitch when it's almost midnight, and all I just really wanted to do was go to bed.

And sleep.

Thank the Lord for Sleepy Time Tea, is all I can say.

It worked a treat.

I even managed to sleep until 7am yesterday morning... which if you know me at all, is like 3 hours longer than normal - no matter what time I go to bed.

And yesterday?

Yesterday involved a whole lot of this...

Then some of this

Along with some of this as well


And then this... Martin Clunes "Islands of Britain". Which has some amazing scenery... as well as a good healthy dose of eye candy.

He makes me want to move to Eigg.

And then immediately afterwards, "Doc Martin"... starring Martin Clunes again.

He still makes me want to move somewhere. Wherever he is
Even though he looks constipated.

And then right back to this:

I ask you...Does it get any better than that?

Today we're off to Costco with Miz K... and then I'm right back to a whole lot of nothing-ness.
Life's good.

Not enough hours in the day

It's been busy, busy, busy around here lately... and I'm starting to feel like that I don't have a single solitary minute to myself anymore.

Mainly... I guess that's because I don't.

Fancy me figuring that out, eh?

I've just spent the last week and a half up to my eyeballs in kids - including two 5 1/2 month old babies at the same time - as well as the pre-schoolers... and I'm one worn-out old woman.

With the emphasis on worn out.

Okay... well old too.

Oh hell... go ahead and emphasise them both.

What do I care?

I don't have the energy to argue with you anyway.

The kids have really kept me hoppin'... and then to top it off, so far this week I've had 2 after-hours classes to attend, in the last 4 days.

One on Autism (no offence to the gals who planned this course, but I knew more than the facilitator did, so it was rather boring)... and then another one on Programming and Planning.

That one was pretty interesting, but embarrassingly, it seems that I was more fascinated in looking at the inside of my eyelids... and I missed a lot.

Thankfully... I didn't snore.

At least that I know of.

I figure the pitying looks I got as we were filing out, had more to do with the wafting odor of baby sick... than my snoring during class.

But I could be wrong there.

Tonight's excuse for draggin me kicking and screaming from the house, is a 3+ hour class on Aspergers... (I'm also taking 2 non-daycare friends with me, so they can prod me if I snore) and I've got my fingers crossed that the facilitators at least make it interesting.

Oh ... and that they at least serve some kind of nibbles.

Preferably with cocktails...

But I'm probably dreamin' there.

Food, and kicking your shoes off for an hour or two is important as hell, when you've worked from 12 to 24 hours straight for the 11th day in a row... and then have to dash out the door with baby spit-up on your shirt and something that smells vaguely and disgustingly like baby poop on the left leg of your pants... simply because you don't have time to change.

Or even eat dinner.

Which sadly follows not really having eaten breakfast or lunch either.

Because there aren't enough hours in the day.

Although I have discovered that my cat Willow will eat my uneaten, soggy Shredded Wheat if given half the chance.

And do you have any idea what soggy Shredded Wheat does to a cat's intestinal system?

It's not pleasant... that's all I'm saying.

But it sure is loud.

But now, without further ado... On to the good news!

The good news is that this is MY FRIDAY, BABY!

And " My Friday" means that I have the next 3 lovely, lovely days off!

And what do I have planned?

Nuthin'.

Absolutely nuthin' at all... other than catching up on blogs!

Lookin' for a man...

That's right.
I'm in the market for a new man.

Aged between 45 and 75, fit, and able to do small necessary chores around the house.

Must be a self-starter.

Must be able to cook the occasional hot meal, without reminding me of it for the next 50 years, and must be able to at least clear his own dishes off the table without being asked.

Clearing mine off the table when I get sidetracked bathing a child with spaghetti from one end to the other, and who's also painting the walls with spaghetti sauce, is highly desirable.

Stacking dishes is acceptable... but a bonus will be given for actually washing the dishes.
(actual bonus negotiable)

Must not want to sit on his a** watching TV, (no matter how cute that a** may be) while I do end-of-the-day things like feed the cats, hang out the last 3 loads of laundry, wash the 20th sink-full of dishes for the day, and then take out the trash... after my having worked a very stressful 16 hour day or 24 hours a day for 6 days straight, and when I'm absolutely dead on my feet.

To the point where I actually fall over in the street, scraping my hands and knee and tearing a hole in my pants, while taking the 2 garbage bins to the curb.

Telling me what I missed on TV, while I'm feeding cats/doing laundry/ cooking/ or taking out the garbage bins and tripping on the curb and ripping my hand open, is absolutely forbidden and will result in instant termination and alienation of affection.

Giving me a blow-by-blow word-for-word rundown of the morning news, afternoon cooking shows or what Oprah said today, will also result in the applicant being terminated.

Pitching in to lend a hand without me having to ask 47 times, is an important attribute, and is highly desirable.

Not chasing off potential painters, by telling them that I can't really afford a painter, and that he will do it for me, is extremely important.
Actually doing the painting sometime within 3 years of chasing off the potential painter is also extremely important, because since the window sills are already sanded, (by myself, mind you) rot will set in some time in those 3 years, necessitating even more work and money to repair them.
BIG money.
Like $200 per window... times 7 windows BIG money.
Money I don't have.

Must be highly motivated to do what he says he will do, when he says he will do it.

Promising to help me out with some $$'s when I haven't yet been paid since taking holidays in April, and the bills are continually rolling in, is highly desirable.
However, the successful applicant must be willing and able to follow through on those promises.
Actions speak louder than words, so to speak.

Promising me for 4 long, stressful weeks to put money in my bank account because I'm getting 2nd notices on several bills... and then sitting back and eventually watching me put $912.78 worth of bills on my Master Card, because there is no money in said bank account, and the "many-times-promised" money was never actually forthcoming, will be severely frowned upon... and can and will result in instant dismissal - not to mention instant and irreconcilable waning of my affection.
As is forcing me to use a run-on sentences.
My affection just waned even more considerably there.

Wanting to charge me $50 for cutting my grass, when the professionals only charge me $35. is unacceptable.
Telling me that the professionals can't make a living charging those prices, is just ridiculous... and will not be tolerated.

Telling me "now that now that I'm retired, I actually work harder than when I worked for for the post office for 41 years years - and I never have a single, solitary minute to myself nowadays"... after having watched Oprah, Ready Steady Cook and Judge Judy all afternoon and then gone shopping for a cast iron skillet and another freakin' hat, will result in immediate dismissal, and no references will be given.

Preference will be given to a man who has an "open wallet" approach.
The sucessful applicant should understand that I will never unnecessarily take advantage of that attitude, and that I will repay every single penny as soon as humanly possible.
Even if it means going without food.
In ten years, I would expect that a man would know that about me.

Preference will be given to a man who owns his own home, who has worked for most of his life, has future goals and a can-do attitude, and who promises to deliver - and then actually delivers what he says he will.

Having a humorous, light-hearted attitude also helps.

Hmmm...I wonder if this guy is available?
(click to enlarge)

I'm one weird mother...

Okay... I need to know. It's important that I know.
Do any of y'all ever carry on entire conversations in your head?

Like, you say something... and then they say something back... and you say something back to them.. and then they question your statement, and you have to explain why you feel that way, or explain why you said it?

Or is it just me?

See... Sometimes, I come across something on the 'net, or in a book... and it immediately makes me think of someone in particular.
Like my hairdresser, or a friend or co-worker, or in this particular case... my son.
Well... it doesn't happen all the time... just sometimes.
I just want you to know that.
Because that would just be extremely strange and worrisome.... and someone might end up calling for the men from the funny farm to come take me away.

Now what started me questioning my sanity (well, to be honest this isn't the first time, but we won't go there right now, okay?) was a post of Hermit Jim's (from Coffee with the Hermit) that I read a little earlier this morning.
It was about water-wise tips and such, and at the end, he included a link to The Farmer's Almanac.

Now, me and The Farmer's Almanac go back a long way... and I always bought a copy every single year.
I would spend hours and weeks and months reading and using it, until that poor old almanac was dog-eared... until the pages were smooth as silk and it was worn out, but well loved... sort of like the Velveteen Rabbit.
And when the next years issue came around, the old one was always placed on the bookshelf, to refer back to.

So when Hermit Jim posted the link, I clicked on that link... faster than a duck jumpin' on a June Bug.

And there it was before me, in all it's yellow glory... Just chock-full of information and tips, and just good ol' old time knowledge. Although it's looking a little more 'fresh' than I remember, it kind of reminded me of a dearly beloved, softly wrinkled old friend... who's suddenly and unexpectedly had a face lift.
Cool, but odd.

So anyway... I had a bit of a browse around, and then checked out the weather in Murphys California.
Like you do.
When your feet are stuck in one country, but your heart is in another one.

And once I saw the extended weather forecast for Murphys, the "in my head conversation" started.

"Gee, Mom... how on earth did you know what our weather was going to be like today? And, you know what it's going to be like on Thursday too? Golly, Mom... you must be soooo smart! I want to be just like you when I grow up!"
(Okay, I have to admit it. My " in my head conversations" with my son often take on a real "Leave It To Beaver" quality, with him looking all rumpled and eager... and using words like "gee" and "golly"...
While I'm in a shirtwaist and an apron, with plastic pearls around my neck, waiting for Ward to come home.
Oh... You TOO?)

"Oh son... tsk tsk!! Honey, I'm your Mom, and Mom's just know stuff like this.
Mom's know everything!"

"Gee Mom, thanks! Now I know what to wear when I go out in the yard to work today... and I'll be sure to take my drink bottle with me, since it's going to be so hot!
And on Thursday, I'll be sure to take my corduroy - with the patches on the elbows - jacket with me, since there's a chance of clouds and cooler weather coming!
Golly GEE! You're such a super Mom!"

"That's okay, son. But that's just what Mom's do!
And speaking of Mom's knowing things... have you used the toilet today? You know what can happen if you don't do a BM everyday, son! You'll get sick, and feel really, really terrible!
Tell you what... next time you "go", don't flush, and come tell me, and I can come check it out... okay? Now... where did I put that Milk of Magnesia?
Josh? Josh, come back here this instant! Take your water bottle with you! Josh! Do you want me to have to tell your father that you left without your water bottle, and that you threw your baseball glove at me? Do you?"

And that's usually when I catch myself, and wonder why in the hell I do stuff like this ...
So I guess I gotta admit it.

I'm one weird Mother.

Memorial Day...

I don't know why it came about, but I have two American casket flags in my possession.

I don't know the names of the men or women who died to earn these flags, or where they served... but I thank them from the bottom of my heart.
They died for me.
They died for you.
They died for a country and a cause that they believed in... and no tribute that I can offer, can ever do them the justice they deserve.



I've tried to track down who the recipients of these flags were, but with no luck.
I was told that unless there is actually a letter with them, there's probably no way to ever track them down.
But as a way of honoring the men who died, it was suggested that I fly these flags with pride today, as a way of honoring them... and showing them and the world that these men didn't die in vain.

And today, I'll be doing just that.



I looked and dozens of Memorial Day tribute videos this morning, and the comment on one in particular, touched me deeply.

"I'm not American, I'm English, but I know several serving Marines and a very good friend of mine has her fiancee currently serving, and I know you don't get much gratitude from us over here, but please let me thank you on behalf of my country. I'll honour every one of you brave souls who are fighting for our freedom, each and every serviceman and woman is a hero.
Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you."

Thank you all... And may God Bless you

There's an upside / or Am I just nuts?

I've been wishing someone would put an ice pick through my head stoically enduring a migraine for the last several days, and last night while laying in bed and praying for the life-saving pain injection to kick in, I realized something...

While a multitude of brain cells are busy dying from the agonizing pain - or at least going on an extended holiday to a land far far away ... the other brain cells, freed from their chronic over-crowdedness, kick into high gear.
And I think stuff.
Deep stuff.

Like I ponder the meaning of Grateful Dead songs.
(Which keep running through my brain like an old 8-track tape... and it brings back memories of John Pierce who kissed like an angel, but he only owned one tape... so I had to leave him. Fickle 16 year old that I was, I left him for a guy with missing teeth, but who had a GTO with a killer stereo, and an extensive 8-track library.
(So now you know how incredibly shallow I was in my youth. Not to mention how old I actually am.)

And in the depths of my deep thinkin', I wondered if Jerry Garcia actually wrote "Truckin'" just for me, somehow knowing that in the years to come, it might somehow strike, or re-strike a chord, and help me make the decision to move back home....
Well, I've already made that decision, (to move back home, I mean) and I've already set things in motion, with cheaply upgrading the kitchen and bathroom, and getting some outside work as well as landscaping done, so I can get the best price for this place.
Because the more I make, the better off I'll be.

So since the whole "Truckin" thing was kind of redundant, with me having already made the decision and all anyway... it kind of lead me to thinking about Cherry Garcia ice cream.

And since the nearest purveyor of Ben and Jerry's is miles and miles away from here, and I have no hope in he** of getting any any time soon...in my migraine pain and drug-induced stupor, my mind turned to other foods.

Namely blogs that feature food.
Lots of food.... as in recipes for a large family.

Like Pioneer Woman Cooks.
And Modern Day Ozzie and Harriet.

And I had an epiphany.

I've tried recipes from all over the place and have found a lot of favorites... but when it comes to 'down home cookin', I always seem to gravitate back to those 2 women on a semi-regular basis.

And those 2 women frustrate me.

Because, in spite of the yumminess and deliciousness of their recipes, and the prettiness of the food they cook... and no matter how much I may love them... I always wonder how anyone could cook and eat some of those foods, and still have the bodies of 18 year old girls.

And then the penny dropped.
They cook for crowds.

With PW, it's 6 people, plus the occasional guest or two or six...
And with Marjie, it's 11 all up... When all the kids are all home at the same time anyway.

So stuff like heart attack potatoes, fried mozzarella sticks, or cakes and pies isn't really as bad as you think, when the recipe or meal is being divided up a dozen ways.
And those gals would be lucky to get a mouthful at a time, so it's no wonder they look like they do.

Unfortunately, when I cook, there's just me, and occasionally the Old Guy... so I end up with a lot of leftovers that I really don't want, but which I feel morally obligated to eat over the course of a few days.
Or toss 'em in the freezer for later.
And since the freezer is outside.... well, you got it.

I eat it.

See, I taught my kids to cook at an early age.
They were told to find a recipe in one of my 1,000's of cherished cookbooks, give me the list of ingredients - which I would then buy - and then once a week, they each would cook dinner for the entire family.
Which meant that after me working 2 jobs, 6 days a week, I could have at least 3 nights off from preparing dinner. And they would gain necessary life skills.
Smart woman, eh?

Now with the recipes, they were always told that they needed to follow the recipes exactly - at least the first time. After getting an idea of how the recipe was actually meant to be, they could later tweak it a bit to suit themselves.
Exchange ingredients... add less or more of something... cut the recipe in half, etc.
I mean I drilled this into their sweet little developing heads.
And they got it.

However, I completely forgot about that rule... so when I make Chicken Spaghetti or some such, I still make enough to literally feed an army of hungry eaters. Even if it's just me and the Old Guy.
And I never think to cut the recipe in half.

So the thought of too much food led me right back to thoughts of Ben and Jerry's... and appreciating the fact that Cherry Garcia comes in cute little one person sized tubs.
Even if I can't locate any.

Which led me right back to the lyrics of "Truckin'.

And then wonder of wonders... on Face Book this morning, Robynn's (Robynn's Ravings) update was:

Sometimes the lights all shinin' on me,
Other times I can barely see,
Lately it occurs to me......What a long, strange trip it's been.

Which explains where my missing brain cells went to.

Robynn, could you send them back?

I might need them again...
Eventually anyway.

Feel free to use 'em in the meantime though... okay?