I forgot where I was going with this….

I’ve been trying to sit down all day and write a LITTLE something since so many people keep asking about my family, but every time I sit down to write, the words don’t come. The majority of my family is right now in the direct path of the eye of the Hurricane. I’ve spent hours looking at topographical maps and maps tracking the path of the storm, and spent hours on the phone trying to do what I can from here. My grandmother lives in Opelousas, LA as well as an aunt, an uncle and a bunch of cousins. Their evacuation plans were foiled today when the place they were evacuating to received mandatory evacuation orders this morning. So now they are all stuck and don’t have anywhere to evacuate to. The only choice they have now is to hunker down and wait out the storm.

When I realized they were stuck, I tried to find a flight out of Louisiana to ANYWHERE, where I could meet my grandmother and bring her back here to Seattle. The only flights out of Louisiana were to Houston and I couldn’t meet her in Houston and get in and out without getting caught in the hurricane myself. So I’ve been killing myself with the “I shouldas” and “What ifs”.

I have family on the Texas coast as well, near Galveston, so if it takes a hard left, they will be in harm’s way as well. I think the family I have left in New Orleans has all evacuated.

So if you’re the praying type, do pray. They need it. And I’ll try to keep you posted as best I can.

Ooooohhhh. I am peeved today. We live in an area with an overbearing homeowner’s association. It’s so bad, Steve and I have been discussing moving lately. We could hire a lawyer again (we’ve already had to do that once) but I’m just so tired of this. Last week, I found them trimming trees in the back of my house ON MY PROPERTY and we lost a whole bunch of privacy. I was LIVID. L.I.V.I.D. The two teenagers in the crew couldn’t back away fast enough. They looked like deer in the headlights. One of the kids dropped the branches he was holding while I had it out with the foreman of the crew.

The day after they did that, son #1 found two kids trying to climb over my fence. My guess is that they didn’t notice there was a fence and house there before the trimming. The kids were gone by the time I got out there. Which is probably a good thing. It might have been embarrassing when son #1 called the police and I had two twelve year olds face down in wrist, elbow and shoulder locks on the ground. It totally freaked my kids out. I calmly explained to son #1 that I could easily take two twelve year olds. He said “But Mom, one of them is the fastest runner in our school.” I said “Son, we may be a couple of miles down the road when I finally catch him, but I WILL catch him. God help him when I do.” He was still very concerned these boys might break in. When Steve came home from work, he brought it up again. I told Steve that I had assured him that I could easily take two kids. (This is something we practice all the time at the dojo- fighting two and three people at a time. We also do something called a vicious circle where you’re surrounded by people attacking you.) Son #1 looked to Steve for reassurance. Steve said “Son, not only could Mom take both of them, she could take them both with one arm tied behind her back.” (While my wrist has been healing these last few months, I actually HAVE been fighting with one arm behind my back.) He thinks about it and decides that it’s true. Then asks “But they are fast runners?” Steve said “Mom’ll catch them eventually.” I piped in, “That’s what I told him! We might be a few miles down the road, but I’m stubborn like that…”

Anyway, you’d think that the trimming crew would have had enough sense not to tangle with me again. But alas, no….. they’re stupid like that. This morning they were out trimming in my FRONT yard. I was still in my pajamas which were a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that says “If you can read this, you’re within roundhouse kick range.” I went storming out of the house, ready to tear those trimmers out of the foreman’s hands. I started yelling “What did I tell you about this?!?! Look what you’ve done! You’ve destroyed my rhododendrons!” He starts babbling about how some of the branches were sticking out over the street. I was about to pummel this guy. The two teenagers were across the street by the time I even got halfway down the driveway. Smart kids, those two. Again, can we say L.I.V.I.D?!?! LLIIIIIVVVVIIIIIDDDDDD!!!!! They destroyed some of my flowers too because the petals were hanging an inch or two over the plane of where my property ends and the street starts. GAH!!!! Seriously?! Who do I have to kill around here!?! The supervisor for the entire homeowners association was out there, probably because they knew I would come out furious again. He had to get out of his truck because I was so angry. He told me that in a year or two I wouldn’t be able to tell they had trimmed. OMFG! Are you kidding me? That just made me madder!

They are now pruning my rhododendron properly. They had tried to just hack it off like a hedge. Oooohhhh. I have had it with these people. And it’s a good ole boys network around here because my neighbor’s bushes are sticking out much further than mine and they didn’t touch his. They said they were going to talk to him about it instead. They tried telling me that they do this every five years and so I should have known. When I reminded them I didn’t live here five years ago, they shrugged and said this is what they do. You’d think they’d stop poking at an angry bear, but no…. they keep poking. Steve thinks it’s hilarious that they probably refer to me as the angry, crazy, karate lady. Meh. That’s how I roll…. They’re lucky I didn’t come running out the house with a bo staff.

It’s called: Quiet Time. Why oh WHY didn’t I think of this at the BEGINNING of summer? So I’m pretty exhausted today. My Hapkido belt test is next week. As of last night, I hadn’t even SEEN 75% of my material, much less had a chance to practice it. So I did 4.5 hours of martial arts in about twelve hours. I hurt everywhere you’d expect and in places you wouldn’t. Hapkido is all about hitting nerve centers while performing a technique. Consequently, I have nerve bundles that have been pounded on constantly by my partner since yesterday. I don’t think I can find a spot that doesn’t hurt.

This afternoon I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. My solution was to tell the kids they had to take a nap this afternoon. When they howled about nap taking, I pretended to compromise and let them read and have quiet time. I promptly passed out on the couch. Completely dead to the world, People. And the kids? Never heard a peep out them! Now I am completely annoyed with myself for not thinking of this at the beginning of summer. I COULD HAVE BEEN TAKING NAPS ALL SUMMER INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO THEM FIGHT AND PRAYING FOR STEVE TO COME HOME! Sigh. I’m sure smarter mothers all over the world have been using my invention for centuries….

Sometimes our senses can transport us back to another place, another time. Perhaps we catch a scent of a cologne that reminds us of a grandfather who died more than two decades earlier, or we hear a song that brings back our high school prom like we’re standing there swaying awkwardly all over again. I discovered that taste can also transport me back to my childhood. I had an Irish aunt who died in 1978 who used to make a unique tasting cheesecake that she’d color green on St. Patrick’s Day. Every now and then I make that cheesecake and I can almost smell her apartment, and feel the pattern on the light green chair she used to sit in. I remember how much she loved Belleek china and I can still see in my mind’s eye the little teapot set she had.

She also made sure I never forgot my Irish heritage and taught me all the lyrics to “When Irish Eyes are Smiling.”

Every Christmas, I bring my grandmother a little closer to me by making fudge from scratch. And every time I make a batch, when I’m done, I stand there and lick the spoon with my eyes closed because I remember doing that as a child. Grandma has dementia now and doesn’t remember teaching me to make fudge and candy. This past Christmas I visited her and made a big batch of fudge. She didn’t know what I was making and I wondered if the taste would bring back any memories for her. I handed her the spoon when I was done and she closed her eyes, savoring it and said “Mmmmmmm. I haven’t made that in years.” She didn’t know what it was called or how to make it anymore, but she sure remembered the taste.

So when I was visiting Grandma this summer, I came across her recipes. Recipes from aunts dead 40 years at least. Recipes with dates and names and memories. I brought her box of recipes to her and said “Grandma, I would really like to have these when you die.” She smiled and said “Well then it’s yours.” As I painstakingly started going through the recipes, I smiled at memories. Before dementia had robbed her of the ability to cook, when she knew I was coming to visit, she would cook and bake for days before I came (Special K cookies, Praline Cookies, Mexican Fudge…..the list goes on and on.) I guess it wasn’t that long ago, because even Steve still remembers those bygone days of endless desserts and Crawfish Jambalaya. But it feels like an eternity…

For years I had been asking her about a dish she made one time when I came in, but she could never remember even making it. I found that recipe for Jambalaya this summer. In fact, I found a whole bunch of recipes with a million memories attached. I photocopied a few pages of them and brought them home. I’ve been trying a few of them every week. The thing that made me chuckle about her recipes was that most of them had some notations on them besides the date and name of the person who gave it to her. I tried to copy many of the ones that said “Good” but the funny part was that some said “Not good.” or “Not so good.” It made me laugh that she kept the recipes anyway.

One of her favorite recipes was Pecan Praline cookies. My grandparents had a pecan tree in their backyard and so many of the desserts had pecans in them. The day before I left I started on a batch of the praline cookies. She wandered into the kitchen while I was mixing up the cookies and said “Hmmmm. That looks kinda familiar.” So I said “It’s one of your recipes, Grandma, do you remember what it is?” She thought about it and then shook her head no. I smiled and told her she’d remember when she tasted them.

As the cookies were nearing when they were supposed to be done, I realized that I didn’t know how to tell when they were done as they don’t brown in this recipe. I called her into the kitchen and asked her if she could tell me if something was done. I opened the oven and her face lit up and she said “I remember those!” I grinned and said “You do? You think that was something you liked?” She nodded vigorously, “Oh yeah, I like those!” I smiled and said “Can you tell me if you remember how to tell if they are done?” Her smile dimmed a little, and she sadly shook her head and said “No. I haven’t made those in years. I don’t remember. I’m sorry.” A little part of me dies every time she forgets something else. I smiled and said “It’s ok, Grandma. I’m sure you remember how to EAT them, right?” She grinned “Yeah, THAT I remember how to do!”

So tonight, for dinner, I’m making another one of Grandma’s recipes. The kids have asked who Grandma got this recipe from. I tell them it’s from Aunt Alice. “Is she a good cook?” I nod, “Yes Aunt Alice is a good cook.” “Better than you?” they ask. I wink, “Nawwww. Your mom is the best cook EVER.” “Grandma USED to be a really good cook, huh Mom?” I grin “GRANDMA was the BEST cook EVER.” And I can revisit my childhood for just a moment, if I close my eyes and savor the taste. It’s all there in the recipe….

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…..

Last Christmas my mother in law gave my kids this toy. It blows this huge puff of air and you can feel it from across the room. So while my cousin was here, her ten year old daughter came downstairs with it and said “Look Mama!” and so I said to my cousin, “You gotta look inside. Get real close.” Then WHAM! The puff of air was so powerful, she staggered backwards. She looked at me like I had completely and utterly betrayed her and said “We’re not friends anymore.” Now when I tell you I almost died laughing, I mean it. I couldn’t breathe. My cousin said “Sweet Jiminy, that was the glaucoma test from hell!” while I continued to laugh so hard there were tears streaming down my face. She was still blinking and trying to get her contacts to recover five minutes later and I couldn’t look at her without laughing. I should probably feel bad or something for setting her up….. but ummmm…… no. I’m just not feelin’ the guilt. And I keep giggling about it even a week later. ;D

No wait. I had amnesia. A concussion? Ok let’s face it, it’s been busy this summer. Then I got overwhelmed with the number of comments that had to be answered. Then I hurt me self, arrggggg (son #1 used to say “I hurt me self” when he was two and then Steve would go “ARGGGG” because he sounded like a pirate.) Oh, let’s face it, I’ve been injured all summer. Not a working limb to be had. Then I got bitten by a search dog that Greenbean and CarnageSIS sent out. And I got arrested for the clown killings. They had to treat the bite wounds while I was in jail and then I got an infection. Never mind. I can’t think of any good excuses. Except that my spouse is a closet Democrat and now declaring he’s an independent. He’s also been very mouthy lately. I keep having to get all Hapkido-y on his ass. The dog has gone totally off his rocker and now thinks he’s a baby kangaroo. Son #1 was discharged from occupational therapy in May and had to be re-admitted on Monday. Ya’ll? Almost lost my ever-loving mind! Son #2 has grown to roughly the size of a small bear, jumping two sizes this summer. And I had to take 8 weeks off of martial arts due to all the injuries. I know. Weak excuses. Sigh.

My cousin came to visit from Texas last week. On the first morning she was here, Son #1 came racing into my room, shook me awake and whispered “MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!! Mooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!! Wake UP! Alesia rearranged the living room and she says she taking home (some family) paintings! MOM! HURRY! WAKE UP!!” I rolled over and opened one eye “It’s ok, Son.” Terrified he says “NO! Mom! She was measuring to see which suitcase the paintings would fit in!!! GET UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” LOL!! I staggered downstairs with my eyes half closed and she’s standing in the middle of the living room grinning and I mumbled as I walked by “You’re terrifying the kids. Stop threatening to steal shit. Living room looks good. Where’s the coffee?”

I have to tell you, I LOVE her 16 year old daughter. Most pleasant, well-behaved teenager you’ve ever met. Never crabby, never bitchy. And she’s like a breath of fresh air. She hasn’t lost the ability to be silly and isn’t afraid of what other people think. We were coming back from the lake and she took the beach blanket and tied it around her neck like a cape. Then she was running back and forth along the beach making the cape fly out behind her and yelling “I’m SUPERWOMAN!” She’s my kinda kid, let me tell ya. I must adopt this child. I even got in a bidding war with my cousin over her. I said “Come live with me. I’ll put you through college.” Alesia says “She’s got a boyfriend back home.” I said “We got boys here. I cook! I make everything from scratch.” Alesia says “We got McDonalds and a microwave. And she’s stricter than I am!” I said “There’s an extra car in the driveway. It’s yours.” Superwoman throws open her arms and looks at me and yells “MOOOMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYY” while Alesia muttered “Bitch” under her breath. Seriously. LOVE this kid. I’m hoping she’ll come out here to go to college.

So anyway, the summer has slipped away. Soccer season has already started and the kids are back in school in a couple of weeks. Where did it all go? I had visions of lazy afternoons and local day trips with the kids. Somehow, that slipped away with all the traveling and such.  Plus, the weather has not been cooperative here. I’ve been wearing a coat all week. 62 and rainy! I hope everyone has had a good summer.

Since it’s Wednesday and I remembered, let’s play a little game of Whatever Wednesday:

Whatever Wednesday rules: Answer the question left by the person before you and leave a question for the next person. Play as many times as you wish. Anything goes. And it doesn’t have to be Wednesday to play.

First Question: What was your favorite thing that you did this summer?

I see there has been an uprising around here with demands for entries and such. I’m only one person, people! I’m not a machine. If I were a machine, I wouldn’t be sitting here trying to type with my right arm in a sling. Yes, you read that right. The only part of my body that was not injured, is now injured. We were breaking boards in karate and hapkido using elbow strikes. I broke the thickest board, however, I used probably ten times the amount of force I needed to use. My arm is swollen from fingertips to shoulder and there is a nasty, nasty bruise forming. I had it x-rayed last night and there is no break, but it doesn’t look right. Sigh. Sensei told me this morning that I need to take up knitting and buy a gun.

It’s a feat to type, but I know all you junkies are having some fix issues out there, so here you go:

Ok, so if you’ve ever bought one of those tie-dye kits, you know that they come with gloves. And instructions. And the instructions clearly state that you should WEAR said gloves. And if you’re like me, you say: Meh. I don’t need no stinkin’ gloves…………… But? Oh yes, my friends. You need the stinkin’ gloves. Because? Unlike the easter egg hands I’ve occassionally treated myself to, this stuff does NOT come off. Oh yes, I had rainbow colored dye up to my wrists and more than a week later, I still have dye on my hands. The first day was horrible. My hands were flaming, neon, rainbow colored.

My aunt and I took the kids to a drive-up snow cone place. When I reached out the window to hand the girl the money, she’s staring at my hands. When she looks up at me with questioning eyes, I deadpanned “We were killing clowns.” She gasped and took a step back while my aunt and I laughed so hard we had tears coming down our faces and couldn’t breathe. When she came back to give me the change, she still looked terrified of me and we were still laughing so hard we couldn’t say anything. Gawwwdddd. That girl had NO sense of humor. Like clowns really have rainbow colored blood.

Annnnnnyyyyyyyywaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy. My aunt and I had to take my grandmother to have a CT scan while I was in Louisiana. My grandma is 89 and the sweetest, kindest old lady you’ve ever met. She’s also got a fantastic sense of humor. So one of the CT techs came out to get her and she’s on her walker and the girl is sort of holding on to her arm and helping her towards the room. So I said “Ok Grandma, remember NO biting, kicking, or pinching.” My aunt pipes up and says “Yeah Mama, no slapping, or punching, you be nice!” And my grandma started to giggle and the CT tech goes ashen, lets go of my grandma, while my aunt and I nearly fell off our chairs we were laughing so hard. The kids chimed in ”Behave Grandma!” and the girl looked on the verge of a stroke. It was priceless. The girl gave Grandma about five feet of space and then wouldn’t go near her while we continued to cry we were laughing so hard. Grandma giggled all the way into the room.

I SWEAR. No one has a sense of humor anymore….. Grandma’s the one who took out the clowns. We just buried them. Only the arterial blood is rainbow colored. ;D

I’ve been visiting my Grandma again in Louisiana. I got in at 4 am. CarnageSIS and Greenbean3 you can stop posting “missing” flyers. lol. I had no internet access in the swamp. ;D We’ll return to your regular programming shortly.