Monday, July 25, 2011


Tonight I was sending a text message to someone when this lovely piece of string was ever so gently lowered right in front of my phone screen. Yes, I screamed. And I threw my phone against the wall. (Luckily the phone still works.) This is what I typed as the screaming and throwing of the phone commenced: juki

This is the meaning of juki: What goes around, comes around and yo
u will get yours later.

And this is what happened later:

The maker of the awesome string spider, Elizabeth, was standing in the hall when she noticed a
real spider coming directly at her.

"Get it! Get it!" she said, "A spider, Dad,
get it!"

You get it," Phil said.

you get it," she said. She was getting a little hysterical by now.

Phil smacked the spider with a book. When he removed the book the dazed spider put on a burst of speed, closing the distance to Elizabeth.

"GET IT! GET IT!" She screamed. She has a fine pair of lungs. I was in the bedroom and my ears are still ringing.

Phil smacked the spider again. Now the spider had a drunken gait but his legs worked remarkably well.

"Getitgetitgetit. DAD, GET IT!"

He smacked it with the book again and this time it's wounds were critical. It either died or was in a leg-sticking-out-at-odd-angles coma.

Phil took the book and gently edged it under the oddly-leg-sticking-out
maybe dead spider and tried to flick it at Elizabeth.

She went ballistic. Not that she wasn't before, but this time it was a real agitated, wildly, arm flinging fit.

He tried to flick it at her again and her eyes crossed, she called for me, just like when she was four and her siblings were teasing, "MO-O-O-O-O-O-O-M!

And then she ran in the bathroom and slammed the door, and that is why "juki" is my new favorite word.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


Exactly one week ago, I was up until 3:00 am.

I should turn my phone off, I thought, because I don't have to work in the morning and I can sleep until 10:00.

Then the 3:00 am gremlins took over my brain. I tell you, this is exactly what I thought:

I should also hide the phone because someone might come into my room and steal it in the middle of the night and I won't wake up to stop them because I'm so tired, so I really should hide it good.

You know where I'm going with this, don't you? I hid the turned-off phone at 3:00 am and haven't seen it since.

I'm giving you some advice. Do NOT make any big decisions at 3:00 am. Or if you do, write down the decision, and when, in the light of morning you read what you have written, you will be grateful you took my advice.

In fact, when you read it you might get a good laugh. Like: I hid the phone where?!


Tonight I was watching a movie while waiting for the rhubarb pie to bake. This is the "impossible rhubarb pie" that has dripped over the edge every time I have made it this year, which is about six times. Only this time I converted it to a 9x13 pan because I wanted to take some to our personal history lunch, which is tomorrow. I knew if I made the pie that there would be a piece or two missing by morning and there wouldn't be enough for the group. The 9x13 non-pie is done and...right on soon as it cooled there is a piece missing and the person sitting on the couch says, "This is a good one." ~sigh~ What is a mother to do?

Back to the movie. It was a love scene, a nice, clean, kissing one. The camera was doing close ups of the girl and all of a sudden it was a shot from below, it showed she had the start of a double chin and honestly,
she was kind of ugly.

What a lousy thing to do to her I thought. The director ought to be shot.

And then I realized the "kind of ugly" girl was the guy. We forgive guys for having a bit of a double chin. And why? Really, why is there a double standard for men and women?

We don't want to see an aging actress in a love scene. Well, unless she is Sybil Shepard with attitude. Or Merly Streep. I adore Merly Streep. She can age as much as she wants and still be charming and attractive. So, never mind. Maybe it's not a matter of age but a matter of attitude.

Which works for a lot of life, doesn't it? Have a good attitude and the tragedies aren't quite so tragic. Of course, there's bad attitude people that show up in your life. Hopefully you can just shut the door and maybe they will go away. Unless you are related to them and then you have to learn to have tolerance, I guess. And bake them there own rhubarb pie.

I shouldn't write blogs at 1:30 in the morning, should I?

Sunday, July 17, 2011


Today in church the little cherub in front of us--really she is a cherub--she's two years old, has dark curly hair, sparkling eyes, cheeks that are so red you think she's been into her mother's blush and if that weren't enough, when she smiles, she has dimples!

Anyway, today she was hi-fiving her sister and brothers and it was so funny. Her parents were trying to shush her but her siblings were very obliging. "Matthew," she'd say, "give me five!" And Matthew would give her five. She went through all of them and I was so enjoying it all. (And I was listening to the talks, too, and they were excellent--every mother on the planet is a multi-tasker.)

Then, all of a sudden she starting crying, "Kill Bill!" Now, for some reason (and the reason is: Elizabeth made me do it) I have seen Kill Bill and Kill Bill two, or at least parts of both of them. We do have TV Guardian so the bad language is taken out but the rest of it...oh my.

"Kill Bill!" the Cherub called again and again.

I was holding my breath, wondering what her parents were going to do.

Her mom, casually handed over a stuffed pink bear.

"Oh, Ca-ouh Beauh," she said, "Ca-ouh Beauh," she said, holding the well loved bear to her little face.

Really, Lynne. "Care Bear," and "Kill Bill" do NOT sound the same. And in church, yet, you think a sweetie pie, cherub girl is crying vengeance on Bill.


I need more sleep. Or a daughter who delights in the Hallmark channel, and not in horror movies. Or something.

PS She says it's not a horror movie but, believe me, it's certainly not Disney

Wednesday, July 13, 2011


1. Phil and I were in Costco late this afternoon. "Shouldn't we get a chicken?" he asked.

Getting a roasted chicken is the highlight of Phil's life. Well,
almost. Getting a Costco chicken means I won't have to cook dinner so it's a win-win. So we got a chicken, and then we went into the fruit and veggies room. We had been in there maybe five seconds when he said, "Hurry!"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, he said, with a worried look on his face, "my chicken is cooling off."

Really, Phil.

2. I was in the living room, talking on the phone with Hillary, tonight.

"Maddy (age 11) was going swimming with Bailey today," Hillary said. "A huge thunderstorm came up and Maddy came in the living room and
threw herself on the couch in despair. Face down."

Face down, Mom," she said. "What am I going to do with her?"

"You better watch her," I said. "You know what happened to Elizabeth when puberty hit?"

All during this conversation Elizabeth was downstairs, with the TV on. Obviously she has excellent eavesdropping capabilities.

"What?" she yelled. "What did I do?"

Then she got on the phone and said, "In my defense, I am sweet and lovely." Hillary and I were speechless. "Sweet and lovely," Elizabeth continued, "With bouts of naughtiness."

Really, Elizabeth, bouts of naughtiness?

3. One day when Liza (age 11) was here, she was sitting on the couch and had her feet up. The bottoms of her socks were so worn out you could see her feet through the weave.

"Liza," Hillary said, "nice socks."

"Thanks," Liza said, "They're breezy!"

Which sounds like a good thing to me. Somebody ought to market socks that way. Breezy socks. Really. Liza should get royalties. Really, she should.

4. Hillary told me that last night Maddy had a glass of water
and a glass of milk at dinner. She took a drink of her milk, pulled a horrible face and said, "Ugh, milk. What a horrible surprise."

"What a horrible surprise," is now a by word in their house. I think that phrase can be used for lots of situations. It's kind of like the word "Interesting." Sometimes it means interesting and sometimes it means
interesting! Know what I mean? I'm sure you have had some interesting things happen in your life, and so have I. Really.

5. Hillary and I continued talking. How we got on this subject I don't know.

"I hate the word 'beloved'", she said.

"You do? Even when it refers to Jesus?"

"Yes," she said, "and I hate the word 'gorgeous,' too."

Now that this is published on my blog, if any of her siblings read it--which is unlikely--they will have the perfect ammunition for getting her goat. They will probably tell her they think that one of the reasons Jesus was beloved was because he was gorgeous.

I hope this isn't sacrilegious, talking about Jesus this way. Really, I hope it isn't.

6. Which reminds me, Trent was always good at "getting people's goats." He probably still is, he has seven children to use as victims. When he was still living home, one day he was teasing one of the kids (I can't remember which one) Whoever it was came running to me, tattling.

"He's got your goat," I replied.

Whereupon the child turned around, marched back to Trent and yelled, "Give my goat back."

"He gets your goat all the time." I said. "He has a whole herd of them by now."

"Give them back!" the child yelled.

"Where will you keep them?" Trent asked. "A whole herd of goats is a lot to take care of."

"They can live in the back yard and eat grass," the child said.

Now one begins to wonder, did that child
really think Trent had real goats? And then I wonder, no, I'm sure of it, they must take after Phil's side of the family.