from the mixed-up files of a middle-aged mind

In the past 48 hours I spent  an hour and half getting splattered by hot bacon grease so a band of high-school kids would enjoy a more affordable week at band camp. I stayed up  till well after 12:30 a.m. packing son #2 off for band camp, rising at quarter after five the next morning to take him to Provo High for his departure. Within the next half hour we made three trips back and forth in order to make sure the band had all the supplies they needed donated and my son had his cell phone so he could contact us if needed. I laughed at this son as I asked him to come to the car so I could hug him good-bye but he gave me a hug and a big grin right there in front of all his friends. Later and after a full-days work at the office  I withstood  (not entirely gracefully) an hour and a half being the target of hormonal pre-teen angst/anger while helping my daughter get ready for girls camp (and that was just round one). I later spent  two and a half hours at Wa...

Disclaimer: Lest you think I am someone I’m not, I need to assure you I am not “all that.” By definition I am what is known as a “slacker mom.” Even still: In the past 48 hours… I spent  an hour and half getting splattered by hot bacon grease so a band of high-school kids would enjoy a more affordable week at band camp. I stayed up  till well after 12:30 a.m. packing son #2 off for band camp, rising at quarter after five the next morning to take him to Provo High for his departure. Within the next half hour we made three trips back and forth in order to make sure the band had all the supplies they needed donated and my son had his cell phone so he could contact us if needed. I laughed at this son as I asked him to come to the car so I could hug him good-bye but he gave me a hug and a big grin right there in front of all his friends. Later and after a full-day’s work at the office  I withstood  (not entirely gracefully) an hour and a half being the target of ho...

So not really. But I’ve been a bit worried that poor Moaning Myrtle might feel a bit a badly for being left out of all the excitement in Book 7, so I decided to send a little nod her way. In any case I’ve been tagged by Anne Bradshaw over at  Not Entirely British . I’ve only just “met” Anne, but I can tell you she is a writer, is related to one of my favorite musicians–Phil Collins (yes, I am old)–and is starting a feature on her blog called  Water Wisdom . As a better appreciation of and more conservation of one of our most precious resources is something I’m a bit passionate about, I wanted to give that a nod as well. And now back to the Moaning Meme: 5 people who will be annoyed I tagged them: None. Because I wimp out when it comes to tagging. In a real life game of tag I would thoroughly enjoy my turn being “it” then I would just holler out “Whoever wants to be ‘it’  you’re it !” 4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the eart...

So not really. But Ive been a bit worried that poor Moaning Myrtle might feel a bit a badly for being left out of all the excitement in Book 7, so I decided to send a little nod her way. In any case Ive been tagged by Anne Bradshaw over at  Not Entirely British . Ive only just met Anne, but I can tell you she is a writer, is related to one of my favorite musiciansPhil Collins (yes, I am old)and is starting a feature on her blog called  Water Wisdom . As a better appreciation of and more conservation of one of our most precious resources is something Im a bit passionate about, I wanted to give that a nod as well. And now back to the Moaning Meme: 5 people who will be annoyed I tagged them: None. Because I wimp out when it comes to tagging. In a real life game of tag I would thoroughly enjoy my turn being it then I would just holler out Whoever wants to be it  youre it ! 4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth: 1. Meannes...

PROVO 3:35 a.m. –I wake up. I kick around a bit. Then I remember my husband observing 3:30a.m. would be a good time to run to Wal-Mart to pick up the latest and last Harry Potter book. I ignore the temptation to dash right out for about half an hour, then I can’t resist. PROVO 4:30 a.m.– Don’t bother me, I’m reading. PROVO 5:33 p.m.–  Done!

PROVO 3:35 a.m. I wake up. I kick around a bit. Then I remember my husband observing 3:30a.m. would be a good time to run to Wal-Mart to pick up the latest and last Harry Potter book. I ignore the temptation to dash right out for about half an hour, then I cant resist. PROVO 4:30 a.m. Dont bother me, Im reading. PROVO 5:33 p.m.  Done! The worst part about having finished reading Book 7 already is not being able to say a single word.

PROVO Long after midnight –Still wound up after a great  Lia Sophia  party. Great friends, great product, pretty decent  refreshments , stimulating conversation and just a really good time. I substitute post for a  friend flat on her back with a broken foot , worry a bit about another friend down with a sore back , flip through the paper (Star Jones is being coy about her new look and apparently  “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry”  really stinks and  “Hairpsray” is absolutely fabulous.) and a catalog or two then finally turn out the lights. PROVO 1:30 a.m. –My eyes are shut, but still wide open. I’m deliberately trying to relax my brow, loosen my limbs and breathe deeply. Hoping the effort will be enough to allow me to drift off. It does not. I’m trying to remember to pay some bills tomorrow. Envisioning all our financial obligations lining up like sheep to jump over the bed. Wondering what we will feed the missionaries and how to time work ...

PROVO Long after midnight Still wound up after a great  Lia Sophia  party. Great friends, great product, pretty decent  refreshments , stimulating conversation and just a really good time. I substitute post for a  friend flat on her back with a broken foot , worry a bit about another  friend down with a sore back , flip through the paper (Star Jones is being coy about her new look and apparently  I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry  really stinks and  Hairpsray  is absolutely fabulous.) and a catalog or two then finally turn out the lights. PROVO 1:30 a.m. My eyes are shut, but still wide open. Im deliberately trying to relax my brow, loosen my limbs and breathe deeply. Hoping the effort will be enough to allow me to drift off. It does not. Im trying to remember to pay some bills tomorrow. Envisioning all our financial obligations lining up like sheep to jump over the bed. Wondering what we will feed the missionaries and how to time work s...

Actually, if I were indeed melting that would imply (because I am part witch) that I would not in fact be so parched and dry. I was raised in the lovely town of  Eugene, Oregon , and its environs. Which meant I was accustomed to an annual average rainfall of just over 50 inches. Fifty glorious satiating inches of blessed drink of the Goddesses. Pure clear rainwater fresh from the heavens. Provo, Utah  (average annual rainfall of 16″ plus, in a good year, some snow) became my permanent home in 1982,  during which  Utah had what has been termed a moisture  climax  of 10 times the average annual rainfall. I still have a photo from the front page of The Deseret News that shows a river running down State Street in Salt Lake City. And the story about someone catching a fish from it. Therefore I was deceived. It was not until I was married and settled here that I realized this one startling fact: Utah is a desert. And I had just relocated to this: [brok...

Tuesday is the 25th anniversary of the day my father passed away. If you haven’t read the story, you may find it  right here . It is more in my nature to remember birthdays rather than deathdays. I typically choose to celebrate the life of someone I love by doing something I knew they loved to do or something that reminds me of them, rather than heading for the graveside. My family thinks I don’t pay proper tribute, but it’s just the way I’m wired, I guess. (It’s certainly the way I would hope people would choose to remember me.) But  twenty-five years . That’s an awfully long time. So I’ll compromise. Tuesday–not his birth day–will see me baking his favorite spice cake from scratch and a double batch of caramel frosting. (Maybe with a side of  ice cream .) I’m not quick enough on the draw to steal the frosting right from under from my kids and eat it while they’re not looking, but that’s OK by them. I was dropping by to visit  cabesh  today (don’t you l...

At the church parking lot  as we pull in to indulge in our Sonic Slushes under the shade and notice a guy teaching his girl how to drive stick in his Mustang… Hey! I’ve got minivan. Take that Mr. Stang! –from my newly licensed 16-year-old son Over the phone… When the game is over, the kings and the pawns both go back in the same box. –my husband’s friend from high school, going on 20+ years in the Army At an unidentified someone’s unidentified office … Why doesn’t someone tell the Nazi receptionist to chill? –from a 20-year-veteran of a certain company when she had a difficult time being connected to a certain former co-worker. (The details will remain sketchy to protect the innocent. Let’s just say it couldn’t have been phrased any better). On “The Tonight Show”… So God tells Moses he wants him to build an ark… –Jay Leno to Wanda Sykes on “The Tonight Show.” Note to Jay’s agent: Why don’t you book Jay on “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?” In the news… ...

When I was a child—I have no idea how old I was at the time—I went fishing with my family. Eldest daughter to a father who spent a lot of time at work so he could support his family, I cherished any time with my dad, especially if it involved being outdoors. On that particular day my father landed what is likely one of his biggest catches ever—me. If you’ve never seen a fishhook then you need to know that in order to actually land the fish, hooks are by necessity barbed. Read: they go in much easier than they come out. This one caught me on the inside of my left calf. And it hurt coming out. I still have the scar. When I was in college I dated my now husband for several years before we got brave enough to actually tie the knot. During that time we both enjoyed a variety of intramural sports available at the university we were attending. When I played, he would practice with me. One year it was all he could do to keep it quiet when I accidentally hit a softball so hard and high...

This is how I have often described my favorite (and only) daughter since she was about three. It was then that I both embraced and steeled myself for the fact that this little girl was going to make my life interesting. And so she has. Some of you may remember being introduced to the lovely L~ when I wrote about her  cutting herself shaving . Or perhaps you may recall the curious incident of the  Christmas hoodie . If you were to meet her on the street you would see a girl, tall for her age, clad in  boys shorts and whatever shirt she could find. She might look away rather shyly; or she might flash you her beautiful smile and say “Hi!” (If I were to meet her on the street she’d probably roll her eyes to the heavens and heave a heavy sigh.) Oh but there’s so much more. The truth is that while she is willful (and I still maintain, particularly for a female, there has got to be an upside to that quality), she is also a lot of fun. And today happens to be her birthday. (...

I know it's sideways, but it remains so even when I save it after turning it right. Sometimes you have to be smarter than the darn computer. And I'm not . If you have stumbled across this looking for compulsive writer, the post to which this photo belongs may be found at my new home at compulsivewriter.com .

Happy Birthday today to my baby K~. He’s a little big for me to call him that, but he’s my youngest so I’ve warned him he will always be my baby. Eight years ago today I gave birth to my  smallest  child, K~. My doctor laughed at me because when she told me he was only 8 lb. 15 oz. I said, “Finally, a  tiny  eight pound baby!” We never find out what we’re having, but I knew he was a boy and he was a sweet one at that. He was one of my best eaters and sleepers too (although the sleeping part is relative). He quickly put on weight and had the cutest little pudgy cheeks–just like big soft peaches–and feet. I remember one day I was holding him in the hallway at church and someone came up to me and gave the little fat pads on the tops of his feet a squeeze and looked at me and said with a smile, “Now that’s just criminal.” K~ is very loving and affectionate. He loves to cuddle good night and again first thing when he wakes up in the morning. Still. This is a blessi...

At the ballpark  last night after I got a little too frank with the umpire regarding a bad call… Sheesh. You have smart mouths for fans –a spectator (because there is a difference between  spectators  and true fans ) to one of my daughter’s teammate’s mothers In prayer  over the French-dip sandwiches I had made for my son and his friends, the brothers Reid, and their dates for their Friday Night Date Night (ask me how much I love it that because they were in my home and not a restaurant they felt the need to offer a prayer over dinner, even on a date)… And bless us no one will get hurt and we won’t do anything stupid –the eldest brother Reid At the end of their prayer , which was quite appropriate given the youngest brother Reid had just thrown the eldest brother Reid’s date smack down on my living room floor… AMEN! –me, from the other room, laughing in hearty assent

Every time I post a comment on blogger blogs I am faced with the following invitation: Choose an identity If only it were that easy. I’m pretty OK being me, but every now and then I wish I could try on some other identity–just like when I was a kid and I was playing paper dolls. (OK, you’re right, I was more likely to be playing rock paper scissors than paper dolls, but work with me here.) Susie doesn’t want to be the doctor today. This time she’d like to play the attorney.  You know, that sort of thing. Other identities I have wanted to  try on  are as follows: Dr. Rae Crane (in  Medicine Man. ) This was early in my “I just want to be freakin’ brilliant at something ” stage. And somehow saving the jungle and the world side by side with Sean Connery didn’t sound half bad at the time. Jamie Stemple Buckman . I’m pretty sure I’d be good in PR. Their apartment was great. I always wanted a dog just like Murray.  I wish  Carol Burnett was my mother....

Yesterday at the movie theater and in the middle of a half-hour of previewing mostly drivel I was shocked out of my seat by the preview of  Rescue Dawn . It made me sick. My  uncle , my dad’s little brother, was shot down over Laos. We never saw him again. I was six at the time, but I vaguely remember getting the news. It was the day after Pearl Harbor Day—so I somehow always confuse the two. And it was the first time—one of only three times I ever remember—I watched my father cry. It is unsettling to see the one who wipes out your grief every time he wipes away your tears suffer a grief much too deep for your six-year-old mind to wrap itself around. (I thought about that moment when I saw the same confusion reflected back at me in the eyes of my son as he witnessed my reaction to what happened on September 11.) As I grew up I remember being aware as my grandmother and several other family members served tirelessly for decades on behalf of  MIAs and POWs . They jus...

Yesterday at the movie theater and in the middle of a half-hour of previewing mostly drivel I was shocked out of my seat by the preview of  Rescue Dawn . It made me sick. My  uncle , my dad’s little brother, was shot down over Laos. We never saw him again. I was six at the time, but I vaguely remember getting the news. It was the day after Pearl Harbor Day—so I somehow always confuse the two. And it was the first time—one of only three times I ever remember—I watched my father cry. It is unsettling to see the one who wipes out your grief every time he wipes away your tears suffer a grief much too deep for your six-year-old mind to wrap itself around. (I thought about that moment when I saw the same confusion reflected back at me in the eyes of my son as he witnessed my reaction to what happened on September 11.) As I grew up I remember being aware as my grandmother and several other family members served tirelessly for decades on behalf of  MIAs and POWs . They jus...