#$%& Microsoft & Drawing

It's been a long time since I've posted a blog... uh, well, other than the previous blog that I added today. My computer has been misbehaving for a few weeks and I was concerned that it might have the dreaded 'Conflicker' virus that's due to strike April Fool's Day. As it turns out, I have the dreaded Microsoft-Security-Update-Violated-My-Computer bug. Turns out, it's pretty nasty. I dropped my pc off last Thursday and a #$%& update messed up my hard drive. I'll be paying $75 for the privelege of having it corrected. This is not the first time Microsoft updates have had their filthy way with my pc. Bastards. You try to protect your pc from potential fatal pc viruses and you get ravished. Hopefully, I will soon be back up and blogging cool, happy, wonderful stuff as it happens to me.

Rich brought his laptop home from work today and that is what I'm using to work on my drawing and add these two posts. The really, really cool part? I have a 8GB flash drive that I use when I go to clients' houses to show them their designs or consult with them prior to the design work. Last fall, I had copied all my files I've created on perennials, shrubs and trees onto the flash drive to show to a specific client. These files are many GB of photos and information that I've compiled over the last 14 years. I was wondering if I'd deleted them or not. Hot damn, they are still on the thing! I was able to work 6 hours tonight using my flash drive! Woo hoo!

Drew Liked It All

It can be tough to show love to an older teen boy. I'm generally a hugger and talker but, since that's no longer a favored approach for my son, the labors of love worked really well. I picked Drew up Friday, 3/20 and we talked for the entire three hour drive home. We played music we've both acquired and promised to share it with each other. Music is really a major part of who we are. It makes everything so wonderful! We discussed college and how wonderful it is. We talked about so many beautiful things. That kind of contact is absolutely the BEST as far as I'm concerned.

When he got home, he saw the pillows I made and seemed genuinely pleased. I put up new curtains that block the light better. I framed one of his pencil sketches to go with the others. I ordered two new shelves for the wall so we can get stuff off his floor, neatly stacked though the books are. I didn't put the shelves or picture up until I showed them to him (shelves via the internet photos). I didn't want him to think we are changing things without his permission. It seems like he got that I'd done these things expressly to please him. He's not a particularly materialistic person so finding ways to show love, other than over-the-top motherly affection, can be tough.

I love who he is as a person. He's not gotten empty and tough like so many males. He may not wear his heart or sensitivity on his sleeve but he's one hell of a wonderful person and I'm very proud he's my son.

Labors of Love, aka: Slaving Over Projects to Show Drew How Much I Love Him

I'll be driving to bring Drew home for spring break this Friday, 3/20/09. I bought some basic curtains for his room and I have to do some sewing on them to make them work (light blocking, lengthening, etc). Then, I am using the same material I made his didgeridoo case out of, plus a new one (funky batiks), to make him some pillows for his bed. THEN, I'm buying a few basic white shelves for above his bed to get some of the CRAP off of his floor. He's at the no-hug, no-kiss, I-won't-be-your-little-boy-again-until-I'm-22-or-so stage. I, the physical affection and quality-time monger, am not particularly happy with the aforementioned stage. In fact, I can't WAIT for it to be over. So, I'm spelling my love out with physical efforts. I pray to God that he appreciates it because I do NOT wish to emulate Martha Stewart for any purpose other than to connect with my child! Whether or not he appreciates this, the efforts are still a good thing. I will be repeating this like a mantra, with a slight twitch, if he scorns my efforts.

Upstairs Bathroom is Beautious! Like Your Mom!

So, I painted the upstairs bathroom this weekend. I was sick of looking at white walls. We've been in this house since October 2003. Pathetic. Not so thrilled that the metallic paint doesn't look so metallic but it's still clean and tidy. I am Uber-painter! A friend back in Michigan who paints for a living suggested I do it professionally because it looks so GOOD! Thank you, but no. It's a pain in the arse so I'll keep it local - like in our house only! Now I'm on to other chores AND finishing a design for clients.

Milk

I watched the movie Milk tonight. It was a great movie. I do not understand why people take stands against things that do not affect them. They do it in the name of religion although God is about love & tolerance. I don't understand the hatred toward gay people. The suggestion that my grip on heterosexuality is so tenuous that I could change my sexual predilection is idiotic. Or that my children's heterosexuality could be swayed by proximity to a gay teacher or neighbor. Nutcakes. The movie was important. Stop hating.

Margaret and Alice

Last night I was scanning old family photos to store in my external hard drive. I came across a photo from the turn of the century of my Nana sitting at a piano, her mom Bridget, and another girl. I've seen this photo before. Nana is somewhere around 10 in the photo which would date the photo to about 1905. I always assumed that the other girl was maybe a cousin. It's a shiny old photo that turned out much easier to see copied onto the computer so, while looking at the scanned photo, I realized, slowly, that the girl near Nana looks too much like her to be a cousin. I realized that the girl must be Nana's sister Margaret. I have only one other photo of Margaret: her wedding photo taken when she was probably 19. It has to be her. The girl in the photo is an exact but younger version of Margaret on her wedding day.

Here's the great part: Margaret was my actual great-grandmother. She died when my grandfather, Lawrence, was 13 months old. Margaret's mother Bridget, for many reasons, raised my grandfather after Margaret died. My great-grandfather Harry was Protestant and Margaret's family was Catholic so they felt that between religion and Harry being a man, they were better suited to take care of Lawrence - not exactly fair. When Margaret's younger sister Alice married a few years later, she and her husband Robert Baker raised Lawrence as their son. My mom didn't know that Nana (Alice) was not her actual great-grandmother until one her Aunts, Nana's and Margaret's sister Agnes, told her. Mom told me years later when I was around 10 or 12. It always upset Nana that we knew. I wish it hadn't because it didn't affect my feelings toward Nana one iota; I loved her as much as you can love anyone. So technically she was my great-aunt but it didn't change anything for me; to me she was still my great-grandmother. As far as I was concerned, I now had one more great-grandmother! It really was amazing to find out about this other person you never knew, but who is such an integral part of you. What is doubly amazing is to stare at the photo of two women who were so important to me: one whom I never met and the other who was one of my favorite people in the whole world.

Nana always used to talk about certain things that would need to done after she was 'gone' and, while she was being practical, it upset me. Once when I asked to see her photos (she never showed me all of them - things were much more hush-hush back in her days) I kept asking who people were. I asked why their names weren't written down and Nana said that was because she knew who they were. I remember actually saying to Nana that since she often talked about how things should be done after her death, she should write these peoples' names down or I wouldn't know their names after she was gone. I hated the topic of Nana's death, but in this one instance, I actually saw a purpose to it.

Nana died when I was 18. Maybe 17 years ago, Dad gave me a box from his attic. My sister and I inherited Nana's physical possessions. Nana was a pistol considering the era in which she was born. She wanted to give us all her possessions "so we wouldn't have to marry to have nice things". And that was the norm until closer to my generation. In the box were all of Nana's photos. I opened a photo of a man and woman on their wedding day, around the 1910's. I realized that the man looked like my grandfather and the woman looked somewhat like my Nana. I stared in wonder, thinking, "Is this Margaret and Harry!?" I flipped the photo over and their names were written on the back in Nana's very shaky handwriting from her later years. I was amazed to be holding a photo of my great-grandparents. I have to say, Nana was everything I wanted or needed in a great-grandparent; in fact, she was much more like a parent and grandparent to me. But finding this photo was very emotional because I am very into family. That, and I was so touched by the fact that Nana had listened to me and had, very late in her life, documented the names of all these people. It was amazing.

So, to find that this photo I've seen before is actually the second photo I own of my 'other' great-grandma left me in a haze of happy contemplation yesterday and even today. It means an awful lot to me. Nana and Margaret in the same photo. A copy of this one is getting framed so I can see it everyday!

Isabelle, Julian, Raclette & American Idol

Saturday night was a BLAST! Isabelle invited us over for dinner and to meet her husband Julian, whom I'd never met but about whom I've heard wonderful things. Alana had made other plans. I've been to Isabelle's one other time, with Jen and her daughter Aly. Isabelle made us crêpes that visit. Rich had met Isabelle once when she stopped by our house because she and I were driving to a dinner together.

Isabelle has an electric appliance called a Raclette which they bought back in Montreal. You cook the food on it at the table: flank steak strips, shrimp, scallops, onions, green and red peppers, raclette cheese, muchrooms, broccoli & a knock-out garlic mayo sauce Julian created. It was fantastic. We played with their two little ones Léo and Émil. Émil is about 8 months old and Léo is 28 months. Léo is a stitch and, like my kids when they were small, has one hell of a personality and sense of humor. He only speaks French and Rich speaks English but he became Rich's best friend. I was mildly jealous because I am usually the one that becomes buds with the pets and kids. Isabelle said the Julian is the one that rough-houses with Léo, so he digs guys a lot. I was slightly appeased (though I never confessed my slight jealousy).

They brought out some huge wooden game that is like a tiny pool table and was very popular in Canada during the 70's. It was a blast: you thwack wooden rings with your thumb and index finger for the same effect you'd get with pool balls. There are four corner pockets. Isabelle horrified Julian by winning gloriously and dancing a victory dance. He obviously fully expected to win. It was wonderful. After dessert, they suggested Nintendo American Idol. I was horrifed; I would have to sing in public. I learned that you only have to know all the notes & words to win. You don't have to sing well. And... I won. I also chose songs exclusively within my range. It was a blast because nobody was a prima donna and we were all amused by each others' singing.

We are having them over as soon as we have an open Saturday. I love them because they are open, real, passionate, expressive, and very present people. They have zero pretenses and are sweethearts. They could have suggested playing Bingo and we would have had fun just by being with them. I know Alana will love them too!

Sandi & The Impromptu Dinner

Yesterday was catch-up day chore-wise. I've been drawing all week so I ran chores yesterday from 11am until 7pm. I was in an area of town called Afton and thought I'd call my friend Sandi who lives there, whom I met through my women's group. She wasn't doing anything for dinner so, on short-notice, I picked her up and we had dinner and talked until 10pm. I really love being with people and most especially, friends. Working from my home in a town where I know few people doesn't help me in my love of being with people. So, yesterday was wonderful!

Boston Dog Makes My Day

I just got on weather.com to check if we are getting rain tonight. There was a video about a dog that was saved by firefighters from a freezing river in Boston. This is the kind of thing that makes my day: http://video.aol.com/video-detail/dog-struggles-in-icy-water/943476873 or
http://video.aol.com/video-detail/dog-struggles-in-icy-water/943476873/?icid=VIDLRVNAT03
It won't embed.

Emotional Support - Thank you Rich

I was really sad today due to an on-going situation with one family member and issues with another family member. For the last two nights I've had actively crappy dreams. Rich saw that I was directionless and sad so he lured me over to the couch near the fire and let me snivel on him. After I talked for a while, he showed me his old yearbooks that he and Alana have been going over for the past few days. At some point, I noticed that I was laughing and chatting over these books and that he had distracted me wonderfully. We've talked recently about this practice being of real benefit in a relationship. He doesn't usually do this. I was literally in a different place afterward. It's amazing what a sap I am for quality time with loved ones. Just spend sincere time with me and I'm a happy little girl. I don't need pricey gifts, fancy anything. Just quality time and, sometimes when I'm down, stealthy distraction. I'll tell you what, that book I mentioned a while back, The Five Languages of Love by Gary Chapman is simply amazing. So is Rich.

Ellen Greenberg-Maloney

After rousing myself from our Roman Fest dinner (and cleaning up - boo), I called my friend Ellen Greenberg-Maloney whom I met when I lived in Kalamazoo. She now lives in Connecticut for the same reasons we live here: Pfizer, the evil bastards. Ellen is one of those soul-mate relationships I mentioned in an earlier post ('Tina Sybertz: Goddess of Germany"). We have really similar senses of humor, political viewpoints, & family backgrounds. Yet, she's Jewish, I'm not and we share very few interests activity-wise: uh, knitting & gardening. I care for her pretty much unconditionally and it would seem she feels the same for me. My relationship with her is effortless. I've literally never had a judgmental thought about her (I'm no saint; I only have four such relationships: Andrea Nusbaum, Carey Geyer, Tina Sybertz, & Ellen). We spoke for 114 minutes and I sincerely thought maybe 30 minutes had passed. These friendships are what real love and connectedness are about. It's honestly effortless. Compared to most relationships, these really are miracles.

After chatting with Ellen, Alana, Rich and I spent a brief while watching a History channel show together. Lana has school off tomorrow. Yaaaayyy!

Lackadaisical Me

So today: woke up after an odd night of disturbing dreams, cleaned up, tidied up emails, put roast in oven, tidied up kitchen, Rich started a fire, sat with Rich near said fire, checked roast, got rest of dinner together in hurry (roast was small and, thus, cooked quicker than expected). Rich suggested that eating dinner in front of the fire would be fun plus we wouldn’t be wasting a good fire. I laughed and said sure. Our living room has the fireplace at the end of the room with the couch facing it. About 15' behind the couch is the kitchen table and past that is the kitchen. Rich lifted the little table and set it between the fire with the couch. We had wine with dinner. It was w-a-r-m next to that fire. Alana was furthest from it so less sweaty. It was funnier than hell. Immediately after eating, Lana moved about 3' away to the couch and lied down. I got up and lied on the floor. Rich followed suite. Within minutes, I felt myself sleep breathing. I must have been somewhat conscious because I realized what we were doing and snorted a laugh; then we all started laughing at ourselves. Everyone had been lightly asleep. Note: I had one tiny glass of wine, so it was not a contributor to the sleepiness. It was an amazingly slothful experience. We were intrigued at how very differently we behaved in our living room than we do in our dining room. It was either really trashy or really Roman, but it was really nice.