Family isn’t always the people on the family tree.

On Valentine’s Day, I got a gift I didn’t expect.  Wouldn’t expect.  Never imagined it even to expect it.  It wasn’t a Valentine’s gift at all, that just was the day of delivery.  I know a wonderful woman, an interesting woman, an astoundingly brave and generous woman.  I first met her, actually I have no idea how I first met her, but I think it had to do with sewing.  I’ve been doing alterations for her for years.  There are times when I think she shops just to get me things to hem.  Over these years, she has ended up hearing stuff, because she works some wiles on me to get me to talk.  She’s heard my gripes about church stuff, family stuff, school stuff.  I’ve had a lot of gripes over the years.  I swear that she opened that gate for me (probably shopped just so I could release emotions).  For a long while it seemed pretty one-sided, but I think maybe it really isn’t any more.  I know her daughter very well and have done things for her grandchildren and have occasionally sat with her as she recovered from one of her bazillion back surgeries.  However, I completely feel like she has done much more for me than I have done for her.

She was very supportive of my grad school thing.  And I knew she wanted to give me a graduation gift.  I figured I had no choice- it was going to happen.  The last time she mentioned it, when we were fitting her dress for her son’s wedding, the talk was of a Barnes and Noble gift card.  I was groovy with that.  If I had to get an unnecessary gift, I could accept a gift card for books (and coffee).

Well, Thursday she asked me to stop by if I was out and about.  I was, so I did.  She walked with me out to her car, opened the trunk, and said the box in the trunk was for me.  Chin hit pavement.  Because this is what was in the box.

The mothership of all mixers.  She gave me a freaking Kitchenaid mixer.  The Enterprise. (Don’t you think it looks a little like Star Trek?  maybe Bake Trek? nevermind)  I just looked at her.  With my mouth hanging open.  And I cried, boys and girls.  Cried like a baby.  I’m crying again.  Because what do you say to a person who cares enough about you to buy you something so fine. 

Yes, I’ve wanted one. For years.  But couldn’t justify the expense.  Other priorities and all.

To celebrate my new domesticity, I have become one with bread.  Yesterday I made bricks.    Well, not bricks but very short bread, because yesterday I had trouble reading recipes.  Today I made this beautiful thing.  It’s Kale bread.  And everyone likes it.  Also I made butter.  Homemade butter and warm kale bread was the closest thing to heaven.

Tomorrow I must make cookies for small people.  Then I need to figure out something to do with The Enterprise that isn’t baking. And I need to figure out how to say thank you.

I was watching my current obsession tonight.  Torchwood.  Anyway, it’s about aliens and good stuff like that.  In this episode, one of the characters was talking about a woman who, after finding out that aliens really exist, couldn’t deal with being in the world because she felt so small.  For some reason this struck me as strange.  Perhaps I’m wrong.  Perhaps this is why people leave this world- because they feel they are insignificant.  But I heard this line and thought that we are small.  And that’s the best part. 

Because I find a world that is small to be far more terrifying.  The worst times of my life were when my world was just my little people.  Love them, but woah it was hard for me to be the sun, moon, and stars to needy creatures.  Or even worse, when my world was my head.  And that’s just my egocentric thoughts on smallness.  Once you open up smallness to the whole world, we pull in bigotry and politics and religious zealots.  And what do I need to say about that.

Except  take a giant step outside your mind.

And then there’s the small world of connection.  I started (again) reading a book today. And inside this book were treasures of the smallness of my world.  The main character was chitchatting in his head about a tv show I used to watch and that a friend had just mentioned that she’s currently watching with her SO.  There were other connections like states and blue laws and nationalities.  I had a conversation with someone about something (and now I forget what it is, because I’m living that kind of life right now) and someone completely different mentioned the same topic.  And I’m getting so that I don’t think “woah” anymore- I just think “cool”.

Speaking of cool.  Well, not really cool in either sense of the word.  More like geeky and kinda scratchy (because it’s wool).  I finished.  Unfortunately, it’s a manageable length and I messed up the colors a bit, but still, I like it.

That’s my theme for the weekend.

Last night I went out with a friend, with the specific plan of being petty.  Honest and true, we did.  And it was perfect.  Because of all the restaurants in this town, of course we’d make a plan to go to the same place that other people I used to hang with were going out to dinner too.  And of course they were also going to see the same show that we were, because the person my friend and I were being petty about is the same person they were going to see in the show and the reason I don’t hang with them is because the petty inspiration made it so that I can’t.  The last time I went to something that I knew she was going to, she made a point of looking through me and saying things that were deliberately aimed at me (and need I say negative?)  Which makes her a petty witch with a b, right?  And makes me a sad little excuse for a person for being upset by this.

Let us contemplate why I allow people to step on my cape.  Perhaps because I am a doormat.

On the other hand, I had a wonderful time with my friend.  We talked about a great deal more than complete pettiness (as the witch cannot keep our attention for that long.) And then we went to the show.  Egads.  What an extravaganza of “ohmigod” and pink and high heels and blondness.  Legally Blonde the Musical.  My friend and I just looked at each other and quietly hurled.  This was community theater and the audience was definitely into it.  Perhaps on another day or with another friend, I would have enjoyed it.  Because I like tacky stuff as much as the next person and I do like community theater. 

Speaking of tacky.  Ohmigod.

But the best part, and here is where I go back to petty, my good old ex-friend, the diva. The one who tells directors that she is too talented for small parts.  The one who is so obnoxious to work with that people have dropped out of shows that she is cast in.  The one who went to college for music or some such, but sings like a cat in heat.  The one who always plays herself in every show I’ve ever seen her in. (And when we were friends I went to all of them, because I am a good friend, thank you very much.)  That one.  Well. She had no lines. No solo (thank God).  And she had the most hideous costumes I have ever seen.  And was on stage for maybe 10 minutes for the whole show.  And, that was worth the price of admission.

I have some evolving to do.  Perhaps this afternoon. Or maybe tomorrow. 

@vexations posted a bicycle story this morning that inspired me to take a trip down memory lane. 

Training wheels are standard equipment on kids’ bikes. My younger daughter, LLO, a little stubborn shall we say, wasn’t all that excited to ride a bike to begin with and wouldn’t try without the bonus wheels. I watched her as she rode. Saw how dependence on the training wheels trained her to lean to the left. Saw how turns were taken at weird angles. It was probably one of those turns that caused the training wheels to break off. She needed a bigger bike anyhow. She was somewhere around 10 (I did mention that she was stubborn?) and getting too tall for the little bike. It was certainly in her mind and our ears that she wanted a new bike with training wheels. If we’d been inclined to put training wheels on her new bike, which we weren’t, the bigger sizes didn’t have them anyhow. So the new bike sat in the garage for at least an entire summer. Then a neighbor girl rode her bike to our house to play with my girl. Within a week, LLO had figured out exactly how to ride the bike.

A little reminiscing.  I found this in my computer.  It makes me smile.  LLO (who you will discover is actually named Katie) in all her cuteness of several years ago, riding a bike and picking a wedgie.  The redhead is the neighbor up the street who inspired the learning.  The incredibly loud voice at the end (I warned you!) is Spawn, who was manning the camera. 

HERE

In other wheels news.  Spawn turned 16 a few weeks ago.  No progress whatsoever on the driver’s permit.  But she did express an interest in contact lenses which I have tied in with driving.  So I’m certain that I will never hear mention of contact lenses again.  It’s all good.

hold my hand and we can fly together
otherwise, get off my cape.

This is my new motto.  Last week I had a whole collection of people trying to bring me down, which I permitted.  Stupidly.  I hope I’m smarter next time.  I wouldn’t count on it.  But I do have the motto now. 

Now I shall regale you with exciting adventures- in sewing.    Two weekends ago, LLO, Spawn and Spouseman went to this comic book thing.  They are really into manga and anime and that kind of stuff.  Anyhow. Spawn designed a costume.  It was pretty cool, in fact.  I don’t have the photo. I was too busy wondering why the heck I was awake at 7:30 on a Saturday morning to think about the camera.  In any case, she needed a cape.  Which I made.  It was pretty awesome sauce if I say so myself. And she needed a long skirt turned into a short pleated skirt.  LLO needed ears and a tail.  I was rocking awesome mom for a couple days with these contributions.  I was also pretty happy mom too because the people were gone most of the weekend.  It was lovely and quiet.  What else.  Oh, a friend’s brother got married on Saturday.  She needed her dress altered, which I finished a whopping two days before the wedding.  Her mom’s dress needed all kinds of stuff, including a lining in the skirt- which was way more difficult than it should have been- and hemming and what have you.  And that was finalized about 12 hours before they left to get down to the wedding location.  Thank goodness these people know me well or they might have been panicking a bit.  As it was, they didn’t let me know they were panicking, if they were.  Let’s see. Before Christmas I ran into a guy who’s the SO of the mom of some girls my girls used to go to school with.  They don’t hang anymore.  Which is fine. Knew them when Spawn was in Girl Scouts, which was hell.  Not that these people are- they are quite nice.  But anyhow.  The guy has a something business doing something.  Oh, graphic design.  He needed a bag for these panels.  I had no idea what he was talking about at the time.  But now I’ve made a really super cool quilted bag with pockets for these printed woodenish panel things.  And I am just impressed with my own self for figuring out just how to do that.  Please pay me now.  And Saturday I went over to the nice old man’s house.  Spouseman came with me because I made him.  Anyhow, the purpose of this was kinda groovy. My church does this auction thing and many, many years ago, when I was sewing for some decorators, I submitted an item giving away sewing service.  I never heard a thing about it, except that someone I was working for at the time said she had intended to bid for it but she went home sick.  So I assumed that I wasn’t bought and put it out of my mind.  Well, this man’s wife, who just recently passed away, bought it and he discovered the paper for it in her papers as he cleaned up her affairs.  He was getting some blinds put in and wanted to repurpose the drapes.  So I was picking up the drapes.  They are actually kinda disgustingly dusty and such, but I’m not working on them today so I don’t care.  Anyhow.  Spouseman somehow offered to take down the hardware, which I thought was very kind of him.  I was quite pleased with him.  So I have these things in my basement awaiting my joyful repurposing.  Last night I replaced a zipper in my kid’s fencing jacket, fixed a zipper in a pair of pants, and replaced elastic in a skirt I made almost 20 years ago.  Apparently elastic doesn’t last forever.  Should have replaced the elastic in the neckline of the top too, but safety pins can be handy too. 

The kids at school really liked my old outfit.  (As do I, but I don’t wear it much.) I thought it was very appropriate for our day (if not current fashion. ha ha.)  We made butter and colored paper quilts.  We all enjoyed the butter on bread with my (to die for sugar bomb) preserves.  I took in the quilt I made for Spawn when she was little.  The kids thought that was pretty awesome.  And the teacher brought in the baby quilt the class and I made for her when her littlest was born.  Two of the kids in the current class had older siblings who helped make the quilt.  It was very cool to see how special the quilt is to her and to see how much the kids enjoyed seeing the quilts.  And they really liked the jam too.  Pretty fun day for a Monday.

You can see it ain’t all that.  But it was the first one I did and it was well used, once upon a time.

Fascinating.

A joyous sky today. 

I wanted to remember this phrase (please ignore the old lady hand- it’s winter) so I wrote it on my usual notepad. 

I had a lot to say about it earlier today.  But I’m thinking of making this a DIY blog post.  What does “extravagant love” say to you?

The context was the bazillion colors of green in springtime.  How about those individual snowflakes? What about how my daughter’s blond hair is a hundred different individual colors.  (give or take)  That amazing sun on a cold, winter day. The little nubbins on my lilac tree. Full contact hugs. On a day like today, it’s hard to miss the extravagant love in the air.  And to pass it around. 

What other kind of love is there?

And now I go back to knitting.

I did it.  I finally read “The Catcher in the Rye.”  You know it’s a classic.  Famous and stuff.  On my list of books I need to read.  So.  I can check it off.  I have to tell you though, the last couple chapters I really didn’t care what he was trying to catch and where.  I really didn’t.  That’s a joke there, by the way.

I dunno.  Am I unsympathetic to a poor little rich kid who doesn’t care about anything?  Sure, he had the bad luck of being the 3rd kid of 4.  The youngest being the only girl and bright and adorable.  And the eldest wildly talented and successful.  And the most perfect of all who had the nerve to die for some reason.  So Holden is without direction.  Possibly because, at 16, he smokes and drinks like a fiend. (I think that’s a joke too.)

Am I unsympathetic because I am the most boring person in the universe?  Honestly, a wild time to me is wearing jammies all day long or going to work without brushing my hair.  Am I jealous that this little twit gallivanted all over New York city going to bars and hotels and calling people in the wee hours? 

One thing I did find some value in was a quote presented by Holden’s former teacher (who may have been thinking about molesting him- Holden certainly thought so).  “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”  Wilhelm Stekel.

Just so you know… I have lost my mind.  I just googled “rye sense of humor.” The dangers of homonyms.

Also, just found out that the youngest member of the household likes reubens/ ruebens.  (rubens?)  Miss Picky doesn’t like anything, so we don’t count her.  In any case, I need rye bread.  And sauerkraut. Etc.

(day #6)

I think it’s probably pretty clear that we have some dramatic moments in my land.  Today was certainly a day ending in “y”, so there was drama.  Building for hours.  Until Spawn was crying her eyes out and I was feeling guilty (because everything is my fault) and showing it by being angry (because everything is my fault.)  But then I went into Spawn’s room and there was LLO, talking to her sister.  Probably hugging her sister.  Being a sister.  And making it all better.  And it was beautiful.

Then I crawled into LLO’s bed because there’s no place to sit in Spawn’s room except the floor and I’m not about to sit on the floor anymore this week, thank you very much.  Next thing I knew, Spawn and LLO were on either side of me and we had a lovefest as they tried to make me feel better.  (Since by this point, my face had sprung a leak.  Too much week. And too much week.)  And suddenly LLO is singing “Lean on Me” to me.  Then she told me about how she was able to make her sister feel better and how earlier this week the sister had made her feel better and we talked about how lucky they are to have each other and maybe how unfortunate it is that I don’t have a sister and I have to agree on that score. 

In spite of all the fighting (and there is plenty), there is really nothing better than a sister.

On a side note, I may not have a real sister, but I have heart sisters.  And I love them.

Tomorrow my girls may fight the whole day (which I don’t have to experience since they are going on an outing with their daddy- thank goodness) but when it comes down to it, I know that they have each others’ backs.

On another side note, I got a lump in my throat when the Doctor dropped off Miss Smith.  Just seems terribly wrong.

[Day 5.  With 22 minutes to spare. ]

I had an interesting morning.  I parked my car and was walking into the building when this lady stopped me to ask if she could borrow my phone.  Her car was parked up the hill, door open, hazards on (I think, but maybe not.)  She said her car wouldn’t start.  I offered to jumpstart her.  She was wishy washy about it, so I lent her the phone because she said she’d call her husband.  No answer.  I pulled my car over, figured out where my cables were (which is more complicated than you might think) and looked under her hood.  Couldn’t find the battery.  She had a VW.  Every under the hood was covered in plastic.  By this point I was pretty much frozen and suggested we go inside to get our handy dandy custodian’s help.  Yes, I’m helpless that way.  Anyhow.  We went in, had to wait because the school was in the middle of a “secure in place”drill and then there was difficulty finding the custodian (probably because he was knee deep in the drill too.)  Anyhow. The lady and I went back outside.  Miraculously, with a heated brain, I was able to find the hidden battery and was attempting to find some exposed metal (everything under this hood was plastic- have I mentioned that?).  About this time, the custodian came out, checked out my connections, and we had her start the car.  We both mentioned that she should keep the car running.  Somewhere in this conversation, I mentioned her husband again and did she want to call him again to get him to help her.  This is when she explained that wouldn’t do much good because he’s in New Jersey.  Of course, I wondered why the heck she’d call him in the first place. 

I went about my merry day.  At the end of the day, I talked with both the custodian and the school secretary.  They both mentioned that she’d turned off the car, needed a second jump and eventually called a tow truck.  Seriously, sweetie. Why did you turn off the car?  Even I know that you need to leave a car running when you get a jump.  (I have learned this through my vast experience in dead batteries.  I used to have trouble turning off lights. (They are automatic now. Thank goodness.)  The children also have trouble closing doors.

I was late to work.  Not that it necessarily matters. I suppose I did a good deed.  I have a firm understanding of how to jump a car, which I hope I’ll remember for the next time.  I seem to be pursuing this as a hobby. 

I nearly have Spawn’s cape done.  Spouseman is taking the children to some Con thing or Com thing or what have you.  The girls are dressing up.  Spawn has spent all week making a stick.  I’ve put off the cape for a week.  LLO needs ears and a tail.  Never-ending good times.  The best part of this is that the people are leaving the house.  Which is most excellent, because I can party all day.  As soon as I get all the stuff done that needs to be done.  Oh, nevermind.

There. I have managed to keep to this part of my plan for 4 days now. 

Let’s talk about what kids think about fair. 

A friend of mine is going on a mission trip to Nicaragua.  Among the many things this mission group does is pack backpacks for kids to attend school.  Apparently school is not free to everyone in this town in Nicaragua.  In order to attend school the child must be provided with the backpack of school supplies and tuition.  The mission group is not able to raise enough money to support all the children.  So they choose to pay tuition for the children who have demonstrated responsibility and a desire to learn and work hard. 

We were talking with a group of 2nd graders last night (a continuation of a conversation from the previous Tuesday).  They find this to be very unfair.  They feel that the kids who most need the schooling are the ones who have not been successful at school.  One kid even suggested that it would be more fair to give tuition to half of the kids who work hard and half of the kids who don’t.  We didn’t make any progress on deciding which of the hard workers deserved to go and which did not.

I certainly understand where the kids are coming from on this.  In the good old USA, everyone is guaranteed a free public education regardless of the effort the child (or parents) put into acquiring the education.  So their mentality is that education is a right, a guarantee. 

I agree the mission trippers too.  With limited funds, it makes sense to support the intellectual growth of those who have proven to be serious about education.  Part of me is well aware that the system may not be fair- that teachers may favor certain students, that factors (like illness) beyond the kids’ control may ruin a student’s chance of getting an education.  So it would be great if more money was available to give more kids opportunities.

On the other hand, maybe they have the right idea. (I don’t mean the poverty.  Of course.) We value more what we have to work for. 

Well. That’s enough of that.  And I have an entire day of doing stuff for other people.