We have a business with no office. It's mighty darn cold. My sister had her purse stolen in a most obnoxious way. And our 4 year old began the day by vomiting in our bed.
There's only one thing that can pull me from this funk... DEATH CLUB!
This Saturday (January 16) is the anniversary of Edgar Allan Poe's birth and the venerated and quirky Poe Museum of distinguished Richmond, Virginia is throwing a party. Let's join them, shall we?
Arrive at 1914 East Main Street no later than 5:30 or you will miss the zombie cheerleaders. At 6 we will take part in the Eerie Nights ghost tour. After all this joy and fun we may head off to supper somewhere close unless we are all freezing and miserable; in which case you can pick up your Death Club Calendar of upcoming events and head home.
For more information on the Poe celebrations go to www.poemuseum.org
For more on Death Club: stay tuned here or see you at Poe!
Happy Birthday to Poe!
Happy Birthday to Poe!
He wrote frightening stories...
And led a life of woe!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Living Up in the Air
Things have been up in the air at home and work.My husband and I have gone into business together which is either one of our more brilliant decisions (like having kids), or one of our less inspired ones (like living at Ft. Bragg, NC). Only time will tell.
Right now we are hustling every day just to do the basic work tasks because we have no office space. Well, that's an exaggeration. We have coffee shops, courthouse meeting rooms, my husband's car, and our dining room table. But other than that, no office space.
{------ This is our office space last week. Once the space is done I am hoping that stilt man will remain. He is chill and seems nice, and hell, how many law offices do you know with a guy on stilts walking around?
I am in the early stages of discerning how a fifteen year career in ministry translates into being an office manager and Gal Friday in a family business. Right now I am just surprised and grateful each day that no one appears to be dying. They are all in jail... but you pick your blessings.
Will be posting the Death Club calendar shortly. I have a dozen events planned in the coming months for all who embrace life and make sure their ducks are in a row in case of death. In case of incarceration... call the office. The lines are forwarded to the coffee shop/dining room table.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
I Answered Them All
"Mama, do fish get seasick?"
"Mama, I know my Spanish teacher says 'rosabado' for pink. You must have forgotten that word."
"Mama, how does the holodeck work?"
"How much more of this do I have to eat, Mama?"
"Mama, is this going to hurt?"
"When will I be rich, Mama?"
"Mama, where do Dolly Parton and Jollene live?"
"Mama, is this breakfast or lunch?" (This one is karma at work: this was my favorite question to ask as a child.)
"Mama, how many ghosts can get into our house?"
"Mama, where did the first person come from?" When that was answered in light of science, "So what will we become next?"
"Mama, can I marry Wesley Crusher and live on the Starship Enterprise with him?"
"Mama, does Santa bring Christmas to someone in jail if they've been good all THAT year?"
"Mama, why did the dog scratch me?"
"Mama, when our dogs die can we get two dogs and name them both Honey?"
"Who wants to pick me up and swing me around the kitchen... Mama?"
"Mama, how tall will I be when I grow up?"
"Mama, what's a geezer?" And when that one was answered, "Well then... what's a keister, Mama?"
"Mama, can I warm my heine in front of the fire?" And when answered in the affirmative... the child dropped the PJs and sat bare rumped on the warm hearth.
"Mama, why did Janie Belle and Spock's daddy both have a brain sickness? Did they know each other?"
"Mama, how did you and Dada get those wrinkles?"
"Mama, I know my Spanish teacher says 'rosabado' for pink. You must have forgotten that word."
"Mama, how does the holodeck work?"
"How much more of this do I have to eat, Mama?"
"Mama, is this going to hurt?"
"When will I be rich, Mama?"
"Mama, where do Dolly Parton and Jollene live?"
"Mama, is this breakfast or lunch?" (This one is karma at work: this was my favorite question to ask as a child.)
"Mama, how many ghosts can get into our house?"
"Mama, where did the first person come from?" When that was answered in light of science, "So what will we become next?"
"Mama, can I marry Wesley Crusher and live on the Starship Enterprise with him?"
"Mama, does Santa bring Christmas to someone in jail if they've been good all THAT year?"
"Mama, why did the dog scratch me?"
"Mama, when our dogs die can we get two dogs and name them both Honey?"
"Who wants to pick me up and swing me around the kitchen... Mama?"
"Mama, how tall will I be when I grow up?"
"Mama, what's a geezer?" And when that one was answered, "Well then... what's a keister, Mama?"
"Mama, can I warm my heine in front of the fire?" And when answered in the affirmative... the child dropped the PJs and sat bare rumped on the warm hearth.
"Mama, why did Janie Belle and Spock's daddy both have a brain sickness? Did they know each other?"
"Mama, how did you and Dada get those wrinkles?"
Monday, December 28, 2009
Post-Christmas Malaise
Lucy Van Pelt of Peanuts comics fame was known to suffer from a post-holiday disorder that involved depressed mood, aches and pains, and lethargy. I have many things in common with many Peanuts characters, but this time I am all Lucy.
The remedy for this post-holiday ailment was mentioned in one of the strips I read the kids tonight, but that book is downstairs and I am just not up for long distance travel.
In spite of opinions expressed on our local editorial page, Unitarian Universalism is not a lazy religion. The holidays are a perfect example of why this is a religion for over-achievers.
We believe that all in our family are welcome to discuss matters of faith and belief, observing and celebrating accordingly. My son is a pantheist at 7, but also believes that Jesus is the son of God. So that gave us Christmas and Solstice observances complete with readings, theological discussions, and Native American history lessons per his prompting.
My daughter and I embrace Jewish theology and culture which accounted for eight crazy nights of story telling, candle lighting, and her ability to bless the candles in Hebrew this year at 4.
My husband is a loving son who supports his parents in their celebration of Boxing Day in spite of its unknown spiritual meaning for the family. We did enjoy a family google search, though, which determined it is unlikely that we celebrate it for any of the reasons cited by Wikipedia. As his mom would probably say, "It's a good day for a party." And so it was.
And we all love us some Santa. Are you keeping count of observances here? I lost count around December 21.
All I know is that this holiday season I prepared 150 sausage balls, 1.5 gallons of clam chowder, 4 liters of holiday punch, 5 lbs of shrimp, yams that fed three parties worth of guests, 30 dim sum yummies, Muffaletta for 20, Jezebel for 30, a Mississippi Mud cake, a pear bundt, a gingerbread chalet... and I am still cussing because I forgot the latkes. No wonder I have developed a disorder. I am relishing the possibility of an agnostic phase for any or all of us by next year.
Happy damn New Year and leave me alone while I take a nap. I've got to get myself together by Passover when I hope to have the energy to take the tree down.
The remedy for this post-holiday ailment was mentioned in one of the strips I read the kids tonight, but that book is downstairs and I am just not up for long distance travel.
In spite of opinions expressed on our local editorial page, Unitarian Universalism is not a lazy religion. The holidays are a perfect example of why this is a religion for over-achievers.
We believe that all in our family are welcome to discuss matters of faith and belief, observing and celebrating accordingly. My son is a pantheist at 7, but also believes that Jesus is the son of God. So that gave us Christmas and Solstice observances complete with readings, theological discussions, and Native American history lessons per his prompting.
My daughter and I embrace Jewish theology and culture which accounted for eight crazy nights of story telling, candle lighting, and her ability to bless the candles in Hebrew this year at 4.
My husband is a loving son who supports his parents in their celebration of Boxing Day in spite of its unknown spiritual meaning for the family. We did enjoy a family google search, though, which determined it is unlikely that we celebrate it for any of the reasons cited by Wikipedia. As his mom would probably say, "It's a good day for a party." And so it was.
And we all love us some Santa. Are you keeping count of observances here? I lost count around December 21.
All I know is that this holiday season I prepared 150 sausage balls, 1.5 gallons of clam chowder, 4 liters of holiday punch, 5 lbs of shrimp, yams that fed three parties worth of guests, 30 dim sum yummies, Muffaletta for 20, Jezebel for 30, a Mississippi Mud cake, a pear bundt, a gingerbread chalet... and I am still cussing because I forgot the latkes. No wonder I have developed a disorder. I am relishing the possibility of an agnostic phase for any or all of us by next year.
Happy damn New Year and leave me alone while I take a nap. I've got to get myself together by Passover when I hope to have the energy to take the tree down.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Brilliant Holiday Ideas by Children: Ages 7 and 4
4 year old:
"I asked Santa for a skateboard. He said he thinks we can work that out."
On the eighth night of Hanukkah: "Can we do Hanukkah again?"
"I think Santa becomes a baby so he can get down the chimney."
What are the names of the reindeer? "Prancer now Dancer... Vixen... I know Cupid and Honor... and I forgot the other ones."
7 year old:
"Why is it the Mama gets to light the candles? I don't like that part of Hanukkah. I want to light them." (This may be amended when he is no longer so frightening in behavior around fire.)
"Let's have a cocktail party for our friends for the holidays. We can have food and drinks and give them presents we made. I'll be the host." (This somehow passed the committee and we are cleaning house today in preparation.)
"There is the real Santa and there are other Santas. But you gotta' be nice to them all because they've got connections and you never know..."
"I'm going to pull out my loose teeth on Christmas Eve so Santa and the Tooth Fairy can hang out."
"I asked Santa for a skateboard. He said he thinks we can work that out."
On the eighth night of Hanukkah: "Can we do Hanukkah again?"
"I think Santa becomes a baby so he can get down the chimney."
What are the names of the reindeer? "Prancer now Dancer... Vixen... I know Cupid and Honor... and I forgot the other ones."
7 year old:
"Why is it the Mama gets to light the candles? I don't like that part of Hanukkah. I want to light them." (This may be amended when he is no longer so frightening in behavior around fire.)
"Let's have a cocktail party for our friends for the holidays. We can have food and drinks and give them presents we made. I'll be the host." (This somehow passed the committee and we are cleaning house today in preparation.)
"There is the real Santa and there are other Santas. But you gotta' be nice to them all because they've got connections and you never know..."
"I'm going to pull out my loose teeth on Christmas Eve so Santa and the Tooth Fairy can hang out."
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Friendship over Recession
I prefer to buy things from people I know. It is a preference that has bitten me on the hindparts on an occasion or two, but I stick with it.
I found many a source for business cards online and at the chain stores around town. There were all kinds of bargains, deals, and the "hottest" looks. But on paper - cheap shows and I'm no longer 25. I don't need a business card to affirm my hotness. And neither does my husband.
So I went with friends. These are friends I have done business with before. They are not convenient because they are three states away. They are not the cheapest. And they did not offer hot, so I am not sure if they carry it.
But today the most gorgeous cards showed up on my front porch. They are the "Cheap and quick" version to tide us over until the raised ink ones can be printed. (Their idea.) My husband swooned. He normally saves swooning for canoes, chocolate and a firm mattress.
This is why I like buying from people I know.
The gorgeous cards would have been enough. The mouse pad/calendars and the ginger bread house for the kids to build that we found underneath the recyclable packing peanuts... that just makes me fall in love all over again. If you follow this link, you'll meet my friends but you will not see their business cards. Gotta' call them for that. They do a nice wedding invitation, too, I hear.
I found many a source for business cards online and at the chain stores around town. There were all kinds of bargains, deals, and the "hottest" looks. But on paper - cheap shows and I'm no longer 25. I don't need a business card to affirm my hotness. And neither does my husband.
So I went with friends. These are friends I have done business with before. They are not convenient because they are three states away. They are not the cheapest. And they did not offer hot, so I am not sure if they carry it.
But today the most gorgeous cards showed up on my front porch. They are the "Cheap and quick" version to tide us over until the raised ink ones can be printed. (Their idea.) My husband swooned. He normally saves swooning for canoes, chocolate and a firm mattress.
This is why I like buying from people I know.
The gorgeous cards would have been enough. The mouse pad/calendars and the ginger bread house for the kids to build that we found underneath the recyclable packing peanuts... that just makes me fall in love all over again. If you follow this link, you'll meet my friends but you will not see their business cards. Gotta' call them for that. They do a nice wedding invitation, too, I hear.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
More Details from last post
Turns out that half of my blog fans don't know who Jason Statham is.
Mom, click his name and it will take you to a YouTube montage.
The other half of my fans (my Dad) just did not care.
Mom, click his name and it will take you to a YouTube montage.
The other half of my fans (my Dad) just did not care.
Short Attention Span or Dementia Onset? Disappointment Either Way
I am swamped. How can this be? I am unemployed. My children are in school all day. I am not sleeping too much, am not addicted to anything, don't watch TV for more than an hour or two a week. I can only conclude that I am being abducted by aliens for three to eleven hours a day.
Wait, this is the internet: The author does not believe she is being abducted by aliens. She is fully aware that her family, neighbors, friends and an evil demon named Facebook are filling her hours with amusements and requests for her attention. She likes alien abduction as an image only. And if she could please have an alien who looked like Jason Statham, that would be just grand, thanks.
I never have time to blog so the only way I am going to make my remaining two blog fans happy is by writing in small bursts. Nothing so radical and asinine as a twitter feed, mind you, but brief nonetheless.
My conclusion of the day is that adulthood is all about realizing that you are a sad disappointment to yourself. You have three choices in how to respond to the disappointments.
1. If you can move past your daily failures in your own eyes, you get to have a fulfilling mature life.
2. If you are unable to get past your own disappointments you develop a voice like Ray Romano, Jerry Seinfeld, or Ben Stein.
3. If you don't disappoint yourself you are a self-important blowhard who rides around in a bus with your own name on it. So wrong.
With this in mind I am going to take in stride the fact that I have never been to Egypt to visit one of my dearest friends whom I adore and fret over often. I will not obsess over the fact that I almost never go out dancing even though at 20 I swore to myself that I would not be one of those sad sacks who goes out dancing less than three times in a month. And I will calmly realize that there is a block mother on our block and she is not me.
Adult decisions done. Now I am going to have some cookies before dinner and dancing.
Wait, this is the internet: The author does not believe she is being abducted by aliens. She is fully aware that her family, neighbors, friends and an evil demon named Facebook are filling her hours with amusements and requests for her attention. She likes alien abduction as an image only. And if she could please have an alien who looked like Jason Statham, that would be just grand, thanks.
I never have time to blog so the only way I am going to make my remaining two blog fans happy is by writing in small bursts. Nothing so radical and asinine as a twitter feed, mind you, but brief nonetheless.
My conclusion of the day is that adulthood is all about realizing that you are a sad disappointment to yourself. You have three choices in how to respond to the disappointments.
1. If you can move past your daily failures in your own eyes, you get to have a fulfilling mature life.
2. If you are unable to get past your own disappointments you develop a voice like Ray Romano, Jerry Seinfeld, or Ben Stein.
3. If you don't disappoint yourself you are a self-important blowhard who rides around in a bus with your own name on it. So wrong.
With this in mind I am going to take in stride the fact that I have never been to Egypt to visit one of my dearest friends whom I adore and fret over often. I will not obsess over the fact that I almost never go out dancing even though at 20 I swore to myself that I would not be one of those sad sacks who goes out dancing less than three times in a month. And I will calmly realize that there is a block mother on our block and she is not me.
Adult decisions done. Now I am going to have some cookies before dinner and dancing.
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