My Daughter's Freshman Scholar's Assignment...

I have not blogged in a while...kids, the house, various catastrophies have all conspired to keep me from being really, truly creative. I don't have to be, though, because I have Ione's schoolwork to thrill and inspire me.
School sure has changed a lot since I went. I don't know if my teachers would have understood what my child has written here, but I hope that *her* teachers have a good sense of humor. Having said that, I present to you Ione's Freshman Scholar's Assignment:


Zeus’s Umbrella

Zeus’s Umbrella is a magic device that protects you from Zeus’s evil rains. You will always be safe under the protection of zeus’s umbrella ella ella. They are magic and can help you fly. They come in every color except purple, white, and chartreuse. Zeus’s umbrellas can be used for protection, hiding, assaulting and lightning reflecting. They can also do your homework and walk your dog. ORDER NOW AT USEPROTECTION.COM OR CALL 666-6666 AND GET YOU ZEUS’S UMBRELLA FOR FIVE EASY PAYMENTS OF $29.95. ZEUS’S UMBRELLAS MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE. All you have to do is believe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So order now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Useprotection.com

666-6666

USE PROTECTION. DON’T GET WET


Our tax dollars at work so that Ione can practice her comedic skills. I am so proud.

Vacuum, Shmacuum...

I just bought a Dyson Animal Vacuum cleaner. It's almost Christmas and I had to spend money on a vacuum. I feel guilty to my very core, but there's nothing I can do. I have floors, I have rugs, I have animals, therefore I must clean. Vacuums and I have a long, sad history, beleaguered with problems, heartache, and expense. I remember my husband and I, a young couple with a 5 month old baby and a carpeted apartment, going to Montgomery Ward to purchase one. (Why in the hell did we go to Montgomery Ward? Who goes there? Do they still exisit? Why didn't we just go to Target?) After much hand wringing and knashing of teeth as we fretted with the sales lady over motor strength and price, we walked out with a vacuum that literally broke down every time we rolled it over something harder than a large ball of lint. Imagine the horror of a young mother who can't keep her floors immulate for her baby; what if the little thing gets dirty? So the years passed and we bought cheap vacuum after cheap vacuum, never spending more than $80.00 or so, but never managing to keep the same one for more than a few months, or if we were lucky, a year. This frustrated me, and my frustration led me, powerlessly, almost as if in a trance, to Costco, that delightful warehouse store to beat all warehouse stores. I sweated, I wrung my hands, I grabbed strangers by the arm and, pointing at the display of Dysons, asked, "Do *you* have one of these????" The thought of spending $349.00 on something that will make extra work for me was horrifying. If a vacuum doesn't work well, why should I vacuum my couch and chair cushions? If it's just going to spit the dirt back out at me, why bother vacuuming the stairs? I can sit and knit, or cuddle with 6 year old and watch "Spongbob Squarepants." But I reluctantly put the big box with the little picture of that handsome Englishman who talks about "cyclone technology" in the commercial in my cart, and trying not to throw up, went to the registers and paid for it. Normally a big purchase will give me a thrill. $300 on a chest freezer? That made me feel like a real woman for the first time in my life. Forget childbirth and breastfeeding like a freaking superhero; the beauty of that pristine, white appliance sent chills down my spine as I anticipated large, bulk quanties of food purchased and nestled snugly within it's shiny walls. Several hundred dollars dropped on a Kitchenaid mixer? I was high for weeks! The bread dough...the cookies...the muffins! Oh, the delight of gazing at my beautiful mixer while reveling in my good fortune. Shouldn't the purchase of a lovely purple vacuum fill me with the same sense of domestic well being? No, because I look at it and wonder if it, too, will betray me like the dozens of vacuums that came before it. I don't trust that label that boasts, "5 Year Warranty!!!!!!!" It may be *lying* to me. What if it breaks? What if it can't withstand the torture of white Boxer hair, cat fur, and non-clumping cat litter? But then again, maybe I'll end up loving it. Maybe it will be everything that the commercials proclaim it to be. Maybe it will be so amazing that my children will fight over it when I die! So tomorrow, I will carefully open the box, and read the directions and warranty information meticulously before I assemble the purple amazingness that is a Dyson Animal. Because god knows, I sign loan documents, medical documents, and cell phone contracts with nary a glance, but this is a $349.00 vacuum cleaner, damn it! You can't be too careful!

I'd Walk Over You To See The Who....

Okay, I know, that's really not funny. It's making light of a tragic event that happened in the '70s when some unfortunate concert goers were trampled because not enough doors were opened at a concert venue. Crowd control is better these days, thank goodness, so we music lovers can go forth and see our favorite artists without fear of a freakish, accidental death. And I most certainly did that last week (although any time I venture more than a few miles from my children I wonder what would happen if I died, but I digress...) I saw The Who with my friend Tammi.

It was my third time seeing them. The first time was back in 1982, more than 26 years ago. The tour was "It's Hard". I was all of 16, and vaguely asking my father if I could *please* drive to Lexington, Kentucky to see The Who, with my best friend Chris, her boyfriend John (who is now my husband) and John's friend Keith. There is a faint memory of Daddy agreeing to this, and honestly, what father *wouldn't* allow his young daughter to be transported across state lines by two young men who are 18 years old? I shudder at the thought when I look at my own daughters, but the kid in me is very glad that he let me go. Honestly, I barely knew who they were at that time, but they quickly became my favorite. Everyone else I knew loved The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones (we were rebel kids and eschewed most new music at that time...) but I fell in love with The Who and couldn't get enough.

The second time was with that young man who drove me and my lucky friend to Kentucky, only this time, I was the lucky one in the front seat with him. We went to Atlanta, Georgia, and it was the "Tommy" reunion tour back in '89, I think. We had a wonderful time, my life was complete; I'd seen my favorite band a second time and that was enough.

And I lost interest for a long time. Parenthood took priority; music was something in the background and most of the time *that* was Disney or Raffi. But then I started noticing The Who (the two who remain) all over cable T.V., documentaries, "VH1 Rock Honors", and what have you. One morning, surfing on the computer, I discovered they were touring, with tickets on sale for a show in D.C. and it seemed possible, but maybe not... I'd never been to D.C. before. Could I drive there? John will be deployed. Should I go alone? Is it stupid, too much money, irresponsible, and what about *the kids*??? After talking to John, I just went ahead and bought tickets, and let the rest of it work itself out. My friend Tammi was my date, my friend Susan slept over with my big kids, my friend Rosemary kept my little ones and Tammi's husband Lou provided an awesome free hotel room with his Mariott points. So we drove up, threw our bags in our room, drove to the station and took the metro into Chinatown, and here is what we saw:

Warning: Horrible pictures!

It was an awesome show, with the exception of Hoodie Boy (see obnoxious blue striped hoodie in top photo), who blocked our view for a good part of the concert. Neither of us ever got a good view of Roger Daltrey or Pete Townshend at the same time, only little bits and snatches as we stood on tiptoe and craned our necks. It was a *good* time, though. They were generous and very gracious, playing hard for well over two hours. The music was familiar and comforting, everything I loved to listen to when I was experiencing those hard, grueling years of trying to grow up. Roger Daltrey joked at the end about feeling like he'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson, but he looked just fine from where I was standing. Both he and Pete were in top form, Roger hitting every note and Pete just as amazing as ever, if not quite as agile on the feet as he was in his earlier years. They're in their 60's, but I think they've got a lot of good years left in them. Maybe even another tour or two. Please? I'd love to go for Number Four, and god knows, I'd Walk Over You To See The Who.

Obligatory Blog Post...

I am stopping in the middle of an insane number of vital, household responsiblities to reflect on the pleasant "triumphs" of my week in an effort to convince myself that I am, indeed, keeping things under control.

Notice my lovely, compliant Boxer. She is putty in my hands most of the time, letting me pose her in ridiculous contortions and humiliate her on the internet. Sometimes I play with her lips and roll them back in such a manner as to expose her extreme underbite, allowing her bottom teeth to protude up over her top lips. It's amusing. As she has helped drain my checking account, she owes me *at least* this much. I think I'll knit her a hideous sweater with dinosaur spikes and make her wear it. Vandie was Ione's idea, but she's mine, all mine. I'll do with her as I wish. Muuuwaaaahahahahahah!


I'm now a Loopy Groupy! Last week's sock yarn purchase turned into a windfall of knitting goodness: an awesome vinyl bag, a keychain, candy (!!), a beautiful skein of sockyarn, and a nice pattern. I wasn't expecting any of it, which made it all the more exciting. I'm convinced that Sheri at the Loopy Ewe is one of the most thoughtful people in the world; it takes a special soul to be that generous with clients, and this one most certainly is grateful. It's good to get a present after a crappy week.

Notice the lovely skeins. The multi-color is Gypsy Knits DK in the Sea Legs colorway. The turquoise and brown is J Knits Sock Yarn. I am enthralled. Vandie was, too; so much so that she tried to eat both skeins. I saved them.

Homeschooling! Jillian is into the Ancient Egypt portion of her _Story of the World_ curriculum. We mummified an apple, leaving the raw chicken to braver folks.

A sarcophagus for the apple mummy:

Proof that I am not going to hell in a handbasket: a nutritious meal for my spawn. Tofu Noodle Casserole from the _Vegetarian Family Cookbook_ by Nava Atlas. Great cookbook. I did put in more cheese than it initially called for. Like five times the recommended amount. What? Everybody doesn't quintuple the amount of cheese in every recipe they cook? Oh. Well. I did give them broccoli, too.

Hey Yall, Watch This!

Today was the day to take air conditioners out of the window. It's a tough job, and with John and all his mad muscle power gone, Kirsten's boyfriend, Ben, kindly offered to do it for me. One of the air conditioners, however, stopped blowing cold midway through the summer, so I suggested just tossing it in the garbage can. Ben suggested putting said garbage can under the window and just letting it drop. (In all fairness, those A.C.s are heavy and he had already taken several down to the basement.) So that's what we did:

I didn't realize the video would be sideways when I was taking it. I held the camera wrong in order to get the full shot, so we have to turn our heads to see it. Still funny, though, and a brilliant look at *Coping: Navy Family Style*.

We Have an F.O.!!!!

Here is my lovely daughter, Ione, modeling said F.O. ("finished object" for those of you who aren't hip to my mad knitting language skills, yo.) This one nearly sucked the life out of me. Great pattern, no mistakes, easy as all get out, but I just didn't enjoy it. Too much purling and too much reading. If you don't mind reading and purling, however, this is the scarf for you. It's really pretty, though!


Bella the Cat is pleased to present a doggy sweater pattern from Fiber Trends, and some very lovely rose colored Encore Worsted yarn. I bought the lot from The Naked Sheep. I love to order from her. Okay prices, but a good variety, and her shipping is amazingly low. I'm always happy with my purchases. I'm going to make a sweater for Vandie (the bane of poor Bella's existance). Vandie's hair is very thin and I'm concerned that she'll be too cold this winter. Hopefully she won't eat the sweater when I'm not looking. Guess we need to work on the whole "don't act like a wild monster" thing, eh?

Saying Goodbye....

So we dropped John off at the ship Monday morning, then came back a couple of hours later to watch the ship pull away. The kids hung out with friends and we had a fine view. I even got to see John standing in some large hole in the ship...well, his sillouette anyway, and I could see his hand waving. We won't see him again for seven months.

Here's the ship after the tug pushed it out and away from the pier Although sad, it was extremely cool watching it go. I'm really glad we went.

After we tortured ourselves watching it float away, we headed to Oceanview where we saw this:

Then we chatted for a bit, watching the rest of the battle group go by. Jillian found a dead crab. I am impressed that she picked it up. Once your dad leaves for what's an infathomable amount of time, picking up dead crap is not a big deal.

I'm trying not to think about how much this is going to suck, for John and for me. We'll be fine, because we always are, but the whole process is truly like pushing a piano up a staircase. Nobody in their right mind would ever attempt it, so that doesn't say a lot of good things about those of us who do this over and over. Missed birthdays, missed anniversaries, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day (well, I hate that one, so that's okay, but...) It really takes a toll. I think about the families who've never done a deployment, or haven't done many. The pregnant moms who'll deliver during this deployment, and the dads who are leaving behind newborns, the little kids who are dealing with it for the first time. The families with problems who'll have to do their best without a second parent at home. It's a long time to wait, and it's a hard transition when the sailors come home. Be nice to that Navy family that you know; they put up with a lot and really don't expect much, but there are some things that we'd like to avoid, which leads me to:


THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER SAY TO NAVY SPOUSE Who's Husband is on a Lengthy Deployment:

1. "That's not so bad." Uh, yeah it is. Even if it's a two week workup, it *is* that bad. Two weeks out may very well have been preceded by a week in, which may have been preceded by six weeks out. Or the ultimate insult: out for 29 day, pulling in for one day, then leaving again for six. Why? Because if a sailor is underway for over a month, the Navy has to pay separation pay. They will literally pull in to avoid giving sailors extra money. So yes, that two weeks is bad. Exception: the wife who's sailor is gone for the real deal. She can say whatever the hell she wants to.


2. "Wow. I could never leave my wife for that long." Really!?! Why would anyone say something like that? It's not like all of us Navy wives are reeling in self-esteem! Our husbands, for whatever reasons, chose a career that takes them away for long periods of time. They aren't kidnapped from shore, indentured, and forced to go on a Med Cruise. They sign a piece of paper willingly. There is no coersion. Dude-that-said-that-to-me, you are a creton, and I feel sorry for your wife if you are always that insensitive.




3. "My wife and I like each other waaaaay too much to be away from each other like that!" Again, *Really??!!??* Okay, first of all, *I doubt that* and second of all, I challenge you to a "Marriage-Off" anytime, anyday. I've been married to this guy for over 20 years, and for the most part, I think we've had a below-average amount of problems in our marriage. We still have sex, more than average most likely, we still snuggle, when he's home we're in the same bed, we still go out on fabulous dates, we hold hands, and we throw our legs all over each other while we're trying to get comfortable at night. I'm willing to bet we'll be like those old couples you see holding hands in the grocery store, so think about *that*, you insensitive tool. You have been served.




4. "I don't know how you people do it. Well, if you take a liking to the mailman, use a rubber." Uhm..."you people"????? A "rubber"???? Like I'm too stupid to understand the word "condom"??? *I kid you not.*The OB-GYN who delivered my first child said this to me. I was 24 years old, had just had a C-section, John was in Egypt on Med-Cruise, and I was about to be discharged from the hospital. When *he who shall not be named* asked me what my birth control plans were, I innocently answered, "Well, I don't really need birth control. My husband's in the Navy and won't be home until December." This OB (and I won't be tacky and post his name) ruined my pregnancy, ruined my birth, was disrespectful to me, and I will bet money that he's got one of those obnoxious "Support the Troops" magnets on his expensive car. Oh, what the hell, I was born tacky, and tacky I shall be. Robert E. Bledsoe is this charming prince's name. I doubt if anyone in McMinn County, Tennessee who's shopping for a birth attendant is reading my humble blog. If so, ladies, you have been warned.

You know, I think it's a simple matter of thinking before you speak. Nobody's perfect, and it's hard to put yourself in the shoes of someone going through something that you may never deal with. Everybody's experience is different, and there are harder things than the Navy. Just being alive, raising a family, and surviving should humble us and make us more gentle with each other. Being human, being *nice* is the key. That's not a far stretch for any of us. And when I'm grumpy, when I'm ready to kill my kids, when I'm exhausted from carrying a more-than- full load, I'll try to remember how it feels when others are thoughtless to me, and I'll do my best to think before I open my mouth and pollute the world with a lot of hot, ignorant air.