All Hallows Eve

Halloween is almost here,
the ghosts and goblins gather near.
Preparing for that special night
when all the children get a fright.

The pumpkins cast their eery glow
and flicker and fade as the wind softly blows.
The vampires in their coffins arise
as children scurry with piercing cries.

The zombies walk the streets alone,
the living, to the dead unknown;
they seek revenge in the evenings chill
every hallows eve from the graveyards hill.

The witches are heard from miles away
their cackles invite all to come out and play.
Riding high on their brooms to get the best view
of the lone lost child to add to their brew.

The spirits of the dead awake,
the dust of years they raise and shake;
their souls are free to roam unseen,
they wander quietly serene.

The werewolves at the moon will howl,
among the children the monsters prowl.
Mothers oblivious to the dangers that lurk
see only costumes from others hard work.

They marvel how real, they seem so tragic,
then shrug it off to makeup magic.
They share the night with the creatures of old
unaware of the dangers their forefathers told.

TV, movies, books and games
made all scary things seem rather tame;
noises, strange lights and things that go 'BOO'
are all man made, they're not really true.

So the zombies, monsters, werewolves and ghosts
return defeated to their devilish host.
All hallows eve just isn't the same
for the creatures of night it's become rather lame.

(happy ending)

But the children still love it, it's candy they seek
and if by chance they meet a real freak,
a genuine monster whose teeth drips with drool,
no scream they'll make, they think it's cool.
(scary ending)

But may I suggest you take my advice,
these goulish creatures are not very nice.
They didn't dress up like 'Thriller' to dance,
you won't get too far, you won't stand a chance.

The creatures of night of whom you detest
will soon be your guide, they'll have you possessed.
And to their world they'll drag you down
in the muck and the mire until you drown.

Six feet under will be your new home,
till next hallows eve' when you come out to roam.

Happy Blog Birthday!

It was exactly a year ago today that I entered into the self-absorbing world of blog. I never thought I would have anything to say, and every week I pretty much feel the same way. Still waiting for the big WOW that will make everyone on the planet want to tune in and read my every thought, hanging on every word, laughing at every line. But after reading some of those blogs in which the world does tune in every day, I'm grateful my life is pretty boring and that the world doesn't know who I am because:
A) I haven't had a near-death experience
B) I haven't murdered my family
C) I haven't been on Oprah

And I'm OK with that. I'm happy with my simple don't-give-me-more-than-I-can-handle-even-if-it-will-give-me-something-interesting-to-blog-about life. My challenge will be to come up with another year's worth of material that will give my loyal 10 readers something worth reading about. And it's already started, I'm stumped. I got nothing. You might have had your suspicions a few blogs ago. It takes a pretty desperate blogger to write about one's oven woes and throw-up, I mean how desperate is that? So, I've come to the conclusion, that if I can't find anything exciting in my life to blog about, I'm going to start blogging about your lives. You know, the ones where I laugh and say, "That's so funny! You should blog about that...oh yeah, wait. You don't have a blog!" Consider me your ghost-blogger. And just so you know, names will be changed to protect the innocent, or the foolish, or the really embarrassed.
I think I'll start out with a story about my sister, we'll call her Windy (remember, not her real name). Windy had a church meeting she needed to get ready for. Normally, she would have taken off her pants and slipped on her skirt, however, on this day she was wearing her long-john G's to keep her warm, so she stripped off her underwear along with her pants. She put on skirt appropriate underwear, finished getting ready, and went to her meeting like a good little church-meeting-going mom should do. When she got home from her meeting, she realized if she hurried she would be able to run to Sam's Club before they closed (no, she wasn't breaking a commandment, it was a week-night meeting). So she quickly threw off the skirt, jumped back into her pants, and ran out the door. The long walk from the parking lot to the front door caused her to reflect on some strange sensations she was having in one of her pant legs. For some reason it felt a little thicker than the other, a little tighter perhaps. She did not have a toddler tugging at her leg, so that wasn't the cause. But she didn't have too much time to dwell on it before she was greeted at the door by a good-looking young man standing as sentinal and gaurd. After she smiled and flashed him (her card), she grabbed her cart and went on her way. A few steps later, she noticed the strange sensation in her pant leg was gone. Something else was missing too, she just couldn't quite place it, and in trying to understand what had just happened, and why she now felt a draft going up her leg, she turned her head back, looking for some tangible proof that she wasn't losing her mind. Well, she did find something. There, at the door, next to the good-looking door greeter, she noticed something white. Upon closer inspection, she realized the white blob on the floor that she, and everyone else now walking in saw, was her long underwear! She snatched them up and shoved them in her purse so quickly, that even the best shop-lifter would have been impressed. This time she didn't smile at the chuckling good-looking door greeter as she grabbed hold of her cart and made a bee-line for the freezer section, where she could stick her hot-flushed face in the cooler and melt the ice-cream with a single touch to her cheek. Of course it took awhile after the initial shock of "What? How did that get there?" to realize that when she took off her pants and underwear the first time, they must have stayed intact. When she put them on later that night, they must have shifted into one leg, and worked their way down the leg of her pant, until just the right moment. Not in the privacy of her garage, or in her car, or even in the parking lot...Oh no! It wasn't until she had an audience that her underwear made it's debut. She was just grateful the good-looking door greeter didn't try to get her for shoplifting, now that would have been embarrassing to explain!

And just in case your wondering if this story is true...it is. All except the part about the ' Young Good Looking Door Greeter'. I knew you wouldn't fall for that one. (This is Sam's Club we're talking about) He was old and probably half blind, therefore he didn't even see what landed in front of his feet. (at least that's what we tell Windy, anything to make her feel better)

Thanks for all my readers out there! By the way, anyone can leave a comment...anyone out there...anyone at all....hello?

Oiy joy...of motherhood.

It's 4 AM, my light goes on.
My son creeps in, I know somethings wrong.
He says those words all mothers dread,
"I just threw up all over my bed".

"Are you OK" I think to ask,
while deep inside I'm dreading the task.
He's better now, the pain is gone.
It's times like this I hate being Mom.

I plug my nose, try to hold it in,
pull off the sheets and force a grin.
At least he kept his barf confined
or I would have lost more than my mind.

It's wandering off to my happy place,
trying not to think of the task I face.
I tell myself I'm the cleaning crew
at a 5-star hotel, in the Carribbean too.

The slime I try to rinse down the sink
is a pina-colada from someones spilt drink.
I think I'll go snorkling at the end of my shift,
Oh who am I kidding, this sheet smells like...
well, you get the drift.

The sheets are washing, a clean set put on,
I tell Trey good-night as I let out a yawn.
My head hits the pillow, I try to sleep
but I'm now wide awake, counting sheep.

I'm just dozing off at 6 AM
when I hear running feet and then a 'BHAM'
He's at it again, my poor little guy,
I'm hoping he made it, I'd sure hate to cry.

I find him leaning over the john,
the contents of his stomach gone.
I'm afraid to ask, but need to know,
"did you make it on time, or did you blow?"

"I tried to keep my mouth shut tight,
the hallway was dark and I didn't get the light.
I ran head-first into the wall
which made me spwew some down the hall."

Again I'm scrubbing, this time the floor.
It's not too bad, I've done this before.
Then back to bed I try once more
while my husband, oblivious, softly snores.

You might be wondering why he sleeps
while I do all the work without a peep,
let's say I learned from my mother dear,
who learned long ago, about 40 years.

My sister was sick, you know what I mean,
so my Mom asked my Dad to help her clean.
He tried, bless his heart, to help with the mess,
but the smell, the chunks, he just couldn't suppress.

Next thing Mom knew she had double the work,
and cleaning up man puke is not a nice perk.
Never again did she ask for his aid,
so now you know why I'm a little afraid.

Let them smash the big spiders and open tight jars,
change the light bulbs and keep up the cars.
When your child turns green and their cookies display,
remember one thing,'KEEP YOUR MAN FAR AWAY'

Sisters.

I've struggled all week in writing this blog. I don't want to brag, and I certainly don't want to make those of you who don't have what I have feel jealous, left out, or cheated out of one of lifes greatest blessings. It's not that I had anything to do with it anyway, my mom and dad can take all the credit. I'm just a receiver of the gift that keeps on giving. I'm talking about the gift of sisters. I have 4 of them, so I feel especially blessed.Recently we all gathered together for our semi-annual "Sister Day". A day where we let the kids run free in Grandma's yard while we sisters forget our daily cares, reminese, remineace, ugh, remember the good old days, while making a craft for the upcoming holidays.

Growing up I didn't appreciate the fact that I always had to share a room, or that I was usually watching the younger kids while mom was sewing (clothes for me) or that my little sisters would sneak into my makeup when I wasn't home. Of course now, with years of wisdom behind me, I can look back and appreciate those experiences.

A couple of years ago, Kayla came to me with a homework assignment. She had to convince someone to see her point of view and needed that person to write a paragraph or two of why they agreed or disagreed with her. Her platform:
"Why I need a lock on my bedroom door"
Her argument was quite convincing and I found myself agreeing with everything she said. I knew how frustrated she would be when her sister would make herself at home in her room, borrow her clothes without asking. Helping herself to everything in her room, her flat iron, her mirror and makeup because she didn't want to go downstairs and get ready in her own room, leaving a trail of mess behind. I know when things went missing she could always blame her sister, she only has one so it wasn't too hard to guess who the culprit was.
Well, I jumped right in and agreed that having an older sister who felt entitled to anything she saw must be somewhat irritating, and that a lock might discourage any clepto tendancies, but as I started writing, I found myself reflecting back to my childhood experiences and the fond memories I have with my own sisters. I would make up dances with my sisters and perform them to my mom's old records of My Fair Lady and Singing in the Rain. I recalled the tea parties we would have, staying up late into the night playing slap-jack and laughing with my older sister until my parents would shout down the heat vent to go to sleep. Making spook alleys in the cold, dark food storage room, and staying up way too late with them on Christmas eve cuz we were all too excited to sleep.
Suddenly I was feeling sorry for my daughter, not because she had a sister who liked to hang out in her room, but because she only had one sister to hang out with in her room. My tune changed from "lock the door" to "unlock your heart". I found myself expressing to her how lucky she was that she had a sister who not only loved her, but one who loved to hang out with her. I tried to convince her that friends come and go, but your sister will always be there, and since she only has one, she'd better make the best of it. I reassured her that her sister will be the shoulder you cry on when some guy breaks your heart, and she'll be the first one you call when you meet Mr. Right. She'll be the one with the biggest smile in your wedding photos, and she'll be your childs favorite aunt. She'll be the one you run to when you've had your first fight with your husband, and she'll be the one to convince you that no, it wasn't a mistake, guys are just jerks sometimes. She'll be the one beside you while you push your little ones on the swing at the park, and on Halloween she'll be pushing her stroller along side yours up and down the neighborhood. She'll be the one you call when your husband takes the kids off your hands for a couple of hours so you can have some 'alone time', and she'll be the one you call crying to when your little one has gone off to college. She'll be your sounding board, your cheerleader, your therapist, your sanity. But most of all, she'll be your best friend.

I should know...I have four of them.

Oh, and by the way, the teacher gave me an 'A' on my essay.
(ok, now I'm bragging)

Peace and Quiet

It's been pretty quiet around our house for the past 2 1/2 weeks. Quiet's nice. Quiet's good. Chelsea has been in England for the past 2 weeks, lucky girl, visiting castles and palaces, Jane Austens home, Stonehenge and rocky beaches (we'll see if I can get her to blog about it) so she hasn't been hanging around home. Kayla, of course, is up at school and recently got a job, so we haven't seen her on the weekends as well. So, it's just been me, Tary and Trey, and although I love my boys, it's just not the same without my girls. For some reason, the guys don't want to hang out with me when I'm going to Roberts Crafts or Bath and BodyWorks. They didn't want to see the "Time Travelers Wife" or go to the fabric store to see their new Christmas selection. They dread hearing the words 'Gardner Village' and 'pumpkins' and 'pictures' in the same sentance. Maybe it's because the orange and brown outfits I pick out for them to wear matches the scenery. I don't know. But for whatever reason, I've been doing alot of things "alone" lately. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Sometimes a little alone time is good. I must admit it's kinda nice not to feel outside pressure when you've been staring at the same 4 bolts of fabric for 30 minutes, trying to decide which one is a must have. And scavaging through Kohl's clearance racks is not a task for the patient impaired person.
So, I have embraced my aloneness. It's not so bad. I can get in my car, alone, confident that the radio station which I chose in my car will not start screaming obsenities at me. And my grocery bill has been reduced since I'm no longer pressured into buying fruit snacks, cookies and pop tarts.
Although being alone isn't so bad, being lonely can be. And I've decided there are just certain things I will not do alone, for they seem to draw attention to how alone I really am. They are:

1- Going to the movies. Staying home with a box of kleenex and watching a good cryer alone is good. Going to the movies and crying alone, bad.

2- Eating out alone. Sitting at the kitchen table alone, with a good book and a plate of hot pasta and a big ol' brownie, eating and reading without interruption, is good. Sitting in a restaurant, all alone, pretending to be waiting for someone, looking all pathetic. Bad.

3- Going to a wedding reception alone...awkward. Standing in line, not knowing anyone around you, trying not to care that they are talking and laughing all around you while you stand there looking like a doofus cuz you can't laugh with them or they'll know you were eavesdropping. Then really wanting to stay and have a piece of cheesecake, but again, not wanting to sit and eat alone (see point no. 2)

I received an e-mail awhile back from my cousin which goes against my rule no. 1, but more power to her! I saved it cuz it was so funny...here goes:

I've got something funny to tell you but first I have to confess that I am a closet "Trekkie". I've always loved the Star Trek shows on TV and the movies they've made over the years.

I've been wanting to go see the new Star Trek movie that's been out for a few weeks now but Ross never seemed interested when I asked him to go with me. Finally, yesterday he told me to see if Marj would like to go because he wasn't interested. Well, I decided to go by myself. How hard could that be, afterall, it's something I see people do all the time but have never had the nerve to do. So, today I got online and looked up the times for the Payson theatre and found that the earliest for the Star Trek movie was 11:45 am. Great! I could go see a movie and be on with my day pretty early. At 11:35 I started out and realized that I'll be a few minutes late so I'm almost panicky thinking that there might not be a seat for me but I tell myself, of course there will be a seat, you only want ONE! But what if it's on the front row! OK, just breathe through your nose and try not to get a speeding ticket.

When I arrive I see there aren't many cars in the parking lot so I feel confident that-first, I'll get in easily; and second, I'll not have to sit on the front row.

I purchase my ticket and a soda and head for the usher to hand over my ticket. She directs me to theatre 4, which is close by and I can hear the movie previews playing as I walk in. I not only have a seat but I can have ANY seat in the house because I'M THE ONLY ONE IN THE WHOLE FREAKIN THEATRE!!!

What a blast! I was the only one laughing, crying, SCREAMING...and I could drink my diet coke and eat my contraband candy (the stuff hiding in my purse) without a care in the world AND I could get up and try different seats for a new perspective. I could stand up and yell out loud with my mouth full, AND leave my cell phone on, just because I could!

One thing I hadn't taken into consideration was that my bladder would be getting pretty full before the movie let out and, even though I had to pee REALLY BAD, I couldn't leave and go to the restroom because there would be NO ONE to ask, "what did I miss while I was gone"? So I suffered through.

I now have one more thing added to my bucket list and I do believe that I would do it again-most definitely!

Thanks for the laugh Charmaine! You are much more confident in your aloneness than I am. And thank goodness I won't have to suffer my sad state of loneliness much longer...my girls are both coming home this weekend! Pull out the orange...Gardner Village here we come!

Peace and Quiet and so over-rated.

A silver lining.

It's been awhile since I last blogged. If it's any excuse, I've been in mourning. Why is it that we always take those things we love for granted, assuming they'll always be there for us. For the past 21 years, she's been at my side, helping to make every birthday and holiday extra special. And has been there for me on the dull drab days in-between, always giving her warmth to the heart of our home, never asking for anything in return.

She started getting sick last November and has been slowly deteriorating. Finally, just a few short weeks ago, I found her just sitting in the kitchen, lifeless and cold; dead cold. I couldn't revive her. I tried everything, but all the tricks I could do before to get her to warm up to me just wasn't working. I knew her time had come. My oven had gone to that Great Appliance Compliance in the Sky. But I wasn't ready to give her up. I called the GE repairman, their motto is, afterall 'We bring good things to life', she was good, and I needed her desperately back in my life. Fall had just arrived and I needed her to celebrate with me. I needed her for my peach and apple cobblers, my traditional halloween mummy calzone and pumpkin cookies. Not to mention all the upcoming baking associated with Thanksgiving and Christmas!

I made a date with the repairman, my next day off work, which also happened to be the day I had planned to make chocolates with my friend and neighbor Carla. I don't know why the thought of having Carla see my dirty kitchen didn't bother me, but when I realized a complete stranger that I would never see again was coming to inspect my oven, it sent me in full spit and shine mode! Carla and I have raised our kids together, cried together, cooked and sewed together. She knows the intents of my heart, and I hers, so we know not to judge each other based on the layers of grease and grime that find it's way into the corners of the cupboards. But to have a complete stranger see my lack of kitchen cleanliness made the inner domestic goddess in me come alive.

I spent the night before preparing for the grand resurrection. First, I had to prepare the deceased. This included a thorough scrub job, inside the oven, under the burners, and shiny new foils for the drip pans were the final touch. She was beautiful! The rest of the kitchen paled in comparison. I didn't want the man kneeling down on my sticky floors, so out came the mop. One thing led to another, and soon I found the floorboards wiped down, sink scoured, bar and table cleared of clutter, dishes done, rugs vacuumed, and appliances sparkling...

All that work for 10 minutes and $69 later, and all he could do was to pay his respects to the deceased. Apparently ovens have a short lifespan. Mine was old when we moved in so she had exceeded the experts life expectancy. Her body parts couldn't be replaced. No transplant could save her, they've discontinued her kind. (Memorial services to be announced later)

As with most tragedies, one must look for the good amidst the bad. So with a sorrowful heart, I bid farewell to my friend, my baker of buns, my giver of goodies, my tempter of treats and caller of casseroles. You've served me well. I thank you.

Oh well...can't be sad for too long...I'm getting a new oven!
Yahoo!
And my kitchen is really clean too!

Fare thee well...Summer.

I don't care what the calendar says, fall has officially arrived in my mind. It usually comes after I send the last kid off to school, making it's way into my heart no later than labor day. This year, it actually looks and feels like fall. The nights are getting cooler, and the brisk air usually lingers throughout the morning. Thanks to all the fires, the air has a hazy, eerie halloweenish feeling to it, and makes the moon appear like a great pumpkin in the sky. It even smells like fall, due in part to the pumpkin spice wall-flower (it's an air freshener) that I have plugged in, and the scent of burning leaves outdoors (ok, it's probably Californian burning homes I smell but that doesn't make for a nice mental picture).

I love living in Utah and experiencing all 4 seasons. I think one the the reasons why I start craving christmas music in July is because I start yearning for a change. Not to imply that I'm not happy living in the moment, don't get me wrong...I love summer! I love sitting on a warm porch with a good book, watching the sun set at 9:00 at night. I love laying on the fresh-cut grass when it's dark, watching for falling stars. I love being able to go anywhere without having to bundle up in coat and gloves while waiting for my car to warm up. I love sleeping with the window cracked opened, listening to the chirp of the crickets while the warm breeze glides over the lone sheet that covers my hairless and somewhat browned legs. I love cooking outdoors on the grill, eating fresh corn on the cob, juicy peaches picked fresh from the tree, sweet watermelon and ice-cream sandwiches. Yep, I'm going to miss summer...and my flip flops...but it's time to move on. Fall brings other things that I love; a start contrast to all the things I love about summer, are the things I love about fall:
The days that get shorter...snuggling with my little man on the couch with a comfy blanket and slippers while we each get in our 20 minutes of required/enjoyed reading each night. The feeling that it's time for bed by 9:00 at night. Snuggling on same above mentioned couch with same comfy blanket and slippers and same above mentioned little man, watching the first snowfall of the season (have you tried to snuggle with your son in the summer? It's too hot and sticky, they're too busy playing, and little boys just smell funny in the summer).
Hot, home-made soups, hot rolls from the oven, the smell of dinner in the crock-pot awaiting you when you arrive home from work. Hot-chocolate with warm pumpkin bread.


Saturday mornings on the football field, watching your son score the winning touchdown. Warm cozy sweaters, and the warm glow of candles lit in the fireplace.
Scarecrows, witches and pumpkins that adorn every nook and cranny. The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon spice, and even the musty smell when you first crank up the heater after a long summers rest.
Carmel apples and apple pie. Pumpkin and pecan, and experimenting with new flavors before they make their debut at the Thanksgiving table.
Snuggling under a pile of blankets at night, warming my cold feet next to my heater of a husband.
The anticipation of all things childlike and magical. Halloween, Thanksgiving...Christmas!

That is why I love fall.

And I know, sure as anything, that winter will bring it's own special time of the year. And by the middle of February I'll be looking forward to the promise of Spring. And of course, spring is just a teaser for what lies ahead...Summer. And by then, I'll be ready for it again, but for now...I bid thee farewell Summer.

Thanks for the memories...