The Daily Grind

Things to do today:

Stake the tomatoes
Scrub the upstairs toilet
Open for Sheryl Crow

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Camp

I went through some papers in my cupboard and found
a very old packing list for our annual camping trip.
I figured it could come in handy for the family and posted it on the fridge.

Many overheard giggles later,
I peered over the children's heads to read:

"Water Wings"
and
"Pull-ups"

Ohhh...doesn't seem that long ago.

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Sheryl Crow

Doesn't she look like a nice person?
Wouldn't you just like to have her over for dinner some night?

Or failing to accomplish that, wouldn't it be cool if your band could open for her
on the main stage at the Common Ground Music Festival
at 7pm on Thursday, July 9th?

That's what I thought too.
I really like her.

Check the festival out here.

Or you can check out our band here.

Peace!

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Haven't Posted

Here is something precious.

And Happy 4th of July!

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It Could Be Worse

I was feeling a twinge of guilt tonight,
making supper,
feeding them some instant mashed potatoes instead of the real stuff.

But I felt way better after reading this tasty recipe on the back of the box:


Barbecue Meatballs:

In medium microwaveable casserole,
microwave 1 lb frozen cooked meatballs
on High about 4 min or until hot.
Stir in about 1 cup barbecue sauce.
Cook 1 min longer.


I read it like three times before I realized
that was it.


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Thanks, Man

A special thank you goes out tonight
to the man who said, "G'bye Dan,"
before he walked out the back door of the music store today.

Dan leaned his head out and said, "Hey, aren't you Kulio?"
when I knocked on the repair room doorjamb to
get somebody's attention, and to ask if Chauncey was around.

He remembered my name.

I met him once a long time ago and he did me a big favor by
fixing my speaker cords for free,
and another time he took apart my amp and almost saved it,
apologizing that he couldn't.

Such a nice guy,
stuck back there in the dark workroom,
the kind of guy who doesn't get a lot of praise or recognition for his talent.

And I could not remember his name.

But the man who was just leaving,
he said it aloud, and shook Dan's hand,
with manners and kindness.

Saved.

"Hey Dan,"
I said,
and we chatted for a little while.

Thank you, wherever you are.

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Casual Cool

I keep waiting for somebody to notice the awesome bruise on my shin
so that I can tell them I got it riding my son's skateboard.

I'm pretty sure my son would rather I keep that info to myself.

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Humility

There is nothing more humbling than
a conversation with an honest child.

When twin boy was eight,
he stumbled into the bathroom unexpectedly
and the first words from his mouth were,
"Don't worry, Mom! I won't laugh!"

It's good to know that the first emotion my nakedness produces
is barely suppressed laughter.

And then at times, without warning
I find myself looking down into the large eyes of a small person
who has silently appeared by my side to comment with awe and wonder,

"You ate that really fast."

The truth about my body, my actions,
my private blunders and my humanness
are revealed through the smiling candor of the children around me.

Innocent observations about
wrinkles, moles, white lies,
hidden laundry piles, poor driving skills
and whether or not I had my eyes closed during prayer.

All of that, accepted with blind love and
small hands patting me on the back.

Yesterday twin boy made an important query
on our paddle boat ride in the middle of Lake Lansing.
I saw that he was glancing down at the specifications label
next to the steering rudder,

"Mom,"
he said, reading about the 900 lb limit,

"how much do you weigh?"

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A Special Day

Odd circumstances created a sudden dilemma:
three of the children were destined for Cedar Point,
and one was left out.

I asked boy twin, "Do you want to go too?"

"Or would you like to stay home and have a special day with me?"

He did not hesitate.
Special Day.

Now my idea of a special day would be to wake slowly,
loll in bed, sip coffee and stay in our pajamas for too long.
We would walk the dog downtown to get ice cream.
We would read books companionably, side by side on the couch.
We would inspect the garden together,
eat lunch on the deck, and chat about important things.

My idea was not the same as twin boy's idea.

He made a list.

And this is what we did...

Target cafe, for pb&j, slushy, coffee and a muffin:

Action figure and Hot Wheels browsing.
Water balloons purchase.
IMAX theatre, to see Night at the Museum II.
19 holes of Miniature Golf:

10 tokens spent at an Arcade:



Breakfast at IHOP (3pm).
Lake Lansing Park:







French Fries and Cheerios for supper.
A game of Scrabble (he won).
A walk downtown with the dog for ice cream.

He thinks we should have a Special Day more often.
I think...
that I will sleep well tonight.

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FIFTY

They've been together, fifty years.

And family came, and friends, lots of them,
and we laughed and talked and ate so much.

And we bought too much cheese, and way too many crackers,
and far too much cake and just enough punch
but none of that mattered after all.

I said, "I knew you when you were this tall,"
to a teenager,
and realized suddenly,
that I am an old person now.

But, that was okay too,
because all around me were other old people,
my age,
who didn't look old at all.

So tonight I'm feeling happy
and lucky
with a new understanding of time
and how quickly it passes by.

We would never notice
if it weren't for these moments,
placed strategically along the way
where we observe the milestone,
and stop to consider
the very very breathless pace
of life.



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There Really Is A Hole

Today was the last day of school.
I love reading through their accumulated papers.
Twin boy brought his writings to me,
and this one in particular I will save forever.

It is so sweet and full of childhood innocence,
and yet,
guilelessly sinister.


My Special Place

My special place is my backyard.
It is a big beautiful field.

I have two ackers of green grass.
There are tons of dandelions in the summer.
We have swings that are lots of fun.
We also have a pool that has lots of toys for it.

In my backyard we have a half of an acker of woods.
I like hunting back there.
We have a pond in the woods.
There are lots of trees to play in.

There is a big hole in our back yard.
It is so big that we can bury people in it.
I sail boats in it.
I play cars in the hole.

My backyard is my special place because its big,
there are woods,
and there is a big, deep
hole.

Vegetables

I have a new garden.

It is like a baby -
I check on it,
I worry over it,
I bathe it and
tuck it in.

It is very public,
out in the way back of our property,
the neighbors see me trudging out there
working a wheelbarrow,
me with the soft hands
and sensitive skin.

If these plants die,
if they do not grow...

I will take it personally.

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Creepy

I need to wash these garden gloves, but I keep putting it off
because every time I look in the bucket where they are soaking
it creeps me out.

Quality Time

Tonight I came into the family room for the last 10 minutes of The Mentalist.

"Tell me, in 5 words or less, what is happening," I said to the Teenager,
who promptly responded,

"Murder,
Camp,
Axeman...
Crazy Guy."

"Got it," I said with my mouth full of raisin bran.

We slumped there together until
my cereal was gone
and the crazy guy confessed to everything.

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He Let One

Tonight one of my students passed gas,
but his dad was in there with us,
so I couldn't do my normal thing
which is to stand up casually,
walk over to the window and
breathe deeply with my nose pressed to the screen.

I had to just sit there and pretend like I hadn't heard it,
and couldn't smell it,
when in fact I had,
and I could.

I See That

So today I was at a band rehearsal and this time it was at the University
in a really big, old building where they store the marching band equipment
and hold rehearsals among other things.

Well all during the practice, these men in suits kept walking through the big room
where we played. They looked like they were sort of touring the place, pointing up
at the ceiling, opening doors, talking with each other. I hoped we weren't bothering
them because we were pretty loud, but other than that I didn't really think much about it.

Later, one of the men came up to me and said, "Hey, nice bass." I said thanks,
and he asked what kind it was.

Now normally when people come up to me and ask me about my bass, it's because they're curious. My bass is really nice - it's a custom bass made of beautiful wood
and I'm really lucky to own it. Usually, people notice it and come up to ask but sometimes they ask sort of funny questions - it's not their fault, they just don't know anything about basses and want to look at it.

So I adopt an attitude of helpfulness, and I usually try to point out something about the bass that they might not know about. For instance I have a six string bass, and sometimes I'll say, "This bass has six strings instead of the four that you probably usually see."

This time, the man smiled and looked really interested, so I was happy to show him my bass. I held it up for him and said, "It's made by Ken Smith," and he nodded appreciatively. Just to be helpful, I pointed out that it was a fretless bass. He again nodded and this time said, "I see that. It's a very nice instrument." I said, "Well I'm lucky, so I try to take really good care of it," as I wiped it down and again he said, "I see that." Then he went on his way.

I put away my bass and went over to the other band members who had been watching this exchange. One of them said to me, "Do you know who that was?" I shook my head no, and he laughed and said it was Rodney Whitaker. The percussionist said, "I thought you must be really nervous to have one of the best bass players in the world watching you."

No, not nervous. Just mortified that I had kindly pointed out to THE Rodney Whitaker, that, in case he hadn't noticed, this is a fretless bass. Duh.
I'm sure he was really impressed with that bit of info. I wish I could go back and have a do over. I'd say, "Mr. Whitaker! I'm a schmuck!" and he would probably nod kindly and say,

"I see that."

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Small Town Cool

We pulled up to the high school this morning,
and drove slowly and carefully through the parking lot.

Lots of kids standing around admiring each other's rides.

It was, "Drive Your Tractor To School Day."

I love small town life.

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Saying No

I have been preaching to my girlfriends lately
about saying no, because I have finally figured it out.

You say, "Oh I wish I could!" with a look of deep earnestness
and sorrow for the fact that you are unavailable to do whatever thing
you have just been asked to do.

You do not give a reason -
this I learned from the husband.

He says, "If you give a reason, you sound like you're trying to make an excuse,
and it gives them something to argue with you about, and it always comes out
sounding less important than you thought it would."

So there is this little awkward silence after you say,
"Oh I wish I could!"
while they wait for you to say why you can't.

But your look is so earnest and heartfelt and you smile so apologetically,
that after the awkward moment has passed,
they will either say, "okay, maybe next time," or
they might offer a reason for you, like,
"Oh, you're working that day?"

If they do this, watch out, you don't want to agree,
just keep that smile pasted on your face and ever so slightly nod.

To them, the nod means 'yes', and they feel better.
To you, it means,
"yes, please think whatever you like about my reason for saying no."

All that to say, I now find myself in the position of saying "no"
and it's not as easy as I made it out to be,
when I was preaching to my girlfriends.

I need a kick in the pants.

Peace!

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Squirmles are Back!

Girl twin saw this at the store and squealed that EVERYONE at school has one,
pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?

The husband gave in this week, with two, eventually,
because there was a mighty squabble and tears over the first one.

A squabble for Squirmles.

Remember?

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Day Four

I can't believe I've held out for this long!
On Tuesday I was thinking that I could not attend rehearsal tonight without shampooing first.

Day 3 (Tuesday) was questionable - my hair felt oily and weird.
But then I read that you should only put the vinegar on the ends of your hair,
and I tried that this morning and it made a huge difference!

This time I sort of made a paste of the baking soda
(just poured a little in my hand, then wet it a little)
and massaged it through my hair, concentrating on the scalp.
I let it set for probably 3 minutes, rinsed, and it squeaked.
Then just a little vinegar on the ends and I was good to go.
No tangles.

An added benefit - after massaging with the baking soda paste,
I did a light scrub of my face with the leftover stuff on my hands. Felt good!

Anyway, I can really see that every person who tries this
needs to adjust the procedure to their own liking.
I'm already forming a plan.

On Friday I have a loooong overdue hair appointment.
This week I thought to myself...she's going to 'poo me!
Beauty salon shampoos are the BOMB and I've decided that
I'm just not going to give it up.
I only get my hair cut like 4 times a year, and that's my favorite part!

So, I think my plan might be that I will use shampoo once a week -
every Friday night -
and the rest of the week use my baking soda solution.
I'm going to try that for an extended time and see if it works for me.
Less chemicals, cheaper and hopefully better health too.

Happy Earth Day!

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Third Day

Does she 'poo?

Well here I am on the 3rd day -
it's Tuesday and I last 'pooed my hair (with real shampoo) on Saturday morning.
I've been washing with baking soda/water, rinsing with vinegar/water since then.

And the verdict is...my hair feels sorta weird.
It looks great in the mirror, but feels slightly oily and it's bugging me a bit.
I'm not sure how long I can hold out.

Here's a cool article from Nature Moms.
Thanks, Joann, for passing that on.

According to the article, it can take several weeks for your head to adjust.
It's used to excess oil production because we strip it every day with 'poo.
My head is supposed to calm down eventually.
Hmmm....

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'Poo Update

Day Two of no 'Poo...

Everything is proceeding nicely - my hair is shiny, soft and manageable (so far).

But more importantly, I've had several questions about recipes and sources, so here are some that I use:

Dishwasher Detergent:
Equal parts Borax and Baking Soda
(I keep mine in a Cool Whip container under the sink and spoon it into the detergent cup of the dishwasher - it sure beats those metal-spout torture devices on regular detergent - and way, way cheaper).

Laundry Detergent:
One bar grated Ivory Soap
One cup Borax
One cup Washing Soda (different from baking soda - found in the laundry section next to the Borax)
Use 2 Tablespoons per load
(Use vinegar in the rinse cup for softer clothes)

Crystal Rock Deodorant Stick
It lasts at least a year (mine fell out of the holder but I still use it, nearing year 2)

Here's a tip from mrc-w over at Good Things In This World
A recipe for "green" dryer sheets:

Fill a bucket or other container with 2 parts water, 1 part fabric softener. Throw a couple of small sponges (regular sponges cut in half) to soak. When you need a "dryer sheet," wring out the excess from one sponge and throw it in the dryer with your clothes.

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No 'Poo

No Poo Ingredients


Water and baking soda for the 'Poo



Vinegar and water for the rinse (plus a little bit of vanilla extract)


Always on the cutting edge of things (ha), I decide to pursue the latest trend in greening:

No More Shampoo

I had to try it, and this afternoon mixed up a batch of what I affectionately call,

"No Poo 'Poo",

jumped into the shower and tried it out.

I was really amazed at how soft my hair was after massaging my scalp with the
No Poo-Poo (I love saying that), and then following with the refreshing vinegar rinse.

I'm going to try it for a time, and see if I like it enough to change my habits.

I successfully gave up commercial laundry detergent several months ago and
haven't used typical anti-perspirant in years. I make my own dishwasher detergent, am growing my first real garden, am getting a Mother's Day gift of my very own compost bin and maybe someday we'll have chickens...

But back to the hair.

My biggest concern was how my hair would smell after rinsing with vinegar,
and walked around for the last half hour asking people to smell my wet hair.
Every single one of them said that it smelled really really good, so that part of it is okay.

But is my hair clean??

Stay tuned.

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Stymied

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't seem to bring myself to write.

It seems overwhelming.

Do you ever feel like that?

What to do...
push through or sit back and let the desire come back around again naturally?

Don't know.

Peace.

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On Vacation

I have...
held hands with a child while we slept,
walked on the beach in the dark,
body-surfed,
walked on the beach in the early morning,
played Marco Polo,
brushed a knot slowly and carefully out of a child's hair,
slathered copious amounts of sunblock onto backs and shoulders,
held a child's chewed gum for a while,
walked on a windy beach, hair whipping everywhere and smiling,
collected shells, mostly baby cradles,
had conversations with children,
visited a best friend,
and had ice cream three times.

So far it's going very well.

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Shy

Sometimes I worry about Middle Child.
She is this beautiful, quiet, sensitive child -
smooshed right in between the Teenager and the Twins.
Talk about being invisible....

But last night I watched and listened in amazement as my invisible middle child
walked out on the stage and into the limelight, reminding me to pay close attention, 'cause she's growing up and finding her very visible place in this world.

She came home one day saying with a shrug and a smile that the lead role in the musical (the princess) was hers and that she had three solos, and that she was very happy about it.

The months following that, she spoke only a little of the preparations and there was not a single after-school rehearsal. We dug a "ball gown" out of grandma's dress-up box, and I scrubbed it with a magic marker to erase some stains...and sewed it up a little, but that was the extent of my involvement.

So last night I was surprised and delighted to find that my beautiful, quiet, sensitive child has an above-average (I'm just sayin') singing voice, wonderful comic timing and also, she can dance.
Wow.

Beaming.




(Not too much singing in this video, just cuteness)

Punch Lines

He appears behind where I sit at the computer
and says with wide dare-you-to-believe-me eyes,

"Mom,
Colton is SO AWESOME."

"He can put 37 grapes in his mouth at one time!"

He observes my jaw-drop with satisfaction, puts his cereal bowl in the dishwasher,
and leaves me to turn back to my typing,
wondering at the post-fodder that so often just drops neatly into my lap.

*

Not Worth The Energy

Ever since the remote was broken
the people in this house have been watching considerably less television.

Apparently getting up off of the couch to change channels is prohibitive.

Is it troubling or happy news when one realizes
that one has finally grown too lazy

to even watch TV?

*

Lovin' It

I had a coupon.

So today, like we do about twice a year, I took the twins to the usually-outlawed fast food place
for some BOGO breakfast sandwiches and a Mocha for me.

I took the twins because you could only have one coupon per person per visit
and we were buying for the whole family.

I explained on the way there that they would each have a coupon,
and they would have to go in and buy something all by themselves.
There was much whispering in the backseat as we pulled into the drive-through.

I was collecting my change at the first window when I noticed that they had flattened themselves on to the backseat where they lay motionless
until we pulled up to the second window,
and then there were some shrieks and loud whispers to, "Duck back down!".

Apparently this was a high stakes mission and they were very serious about not messing it up.

I pulled into a parking space and handed them coupons and money.
They kept telling each other their order aloud to make sure that they would say the right thing.
Then they ran in.

Back they came, breathless, each with a bag and change.
"Mom!" they said, interrupting each other to tell me how they felt like grown-ups ordering something all by themselves, and how twin boy went first,
and then he realized that he should act like he didn't know twin girl,
but he didn't want to leave without her when he was done ordering,
so after he got his food he just
"shuffled around and looked at stuff until she was through."

I asked why and he said, "So they wouldn't get suspicious."

Twin girl said she let her brother go first so that she wouldn't have to say anything except,
"I'll have the same thing as him."

Yes, I'm fairly sure we put one over on them.

*

Short Wave

My head is always full of thinking.
It's not particularly brilliant thinking,
it's just....thinking.

Words,
feelings,
wonderings,
worries,
ideas,
stories,
songs.

Sometimes the things that swirl around in my head become overwhelming
and I can no longer determine priorities for them.
Odd things can rush to the forefront of my thinking,
blocking out the most pressing, important thoughts and, I think, relieving me of them.

So last week I studied for my ham radio license,
went down to the Red Cross and took the test for fifteen bucks,
and afterward they shook my hand and welcomed me aboard.

I still don't know exactly why I did it,
except that I needed to do something measurable,
complete.

I think I needed to do something that would connect me with other strange people,
and with outer space at the same time.

Done.

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Mission Accomplished

I am up late, just riding the high of having hosted an awesome party at my house tonight,
the kind where people stay after the party's over
just because they're having a good time.

True things from tonight that either made me smile or laugh:

* Several people asked me if I have a bathroom.

* A little girl who I didn't know came up to me and said, "I'm bored."

* I held a beautiful, newborn baby who cried but I rocked him to sleep.

* I got a knife stuck in my frozen dessert and couldn't get it out so I had to just leave it on the counter with the knife sticking out of it like it had been attacked, until it thawed.

* It was a baby shower, but a man in jeans, flannel shirt and a baseball cap arrived,
and I still don't know who he is but he was really nice and helped move cars, so I was glad he came.

* Somebody who was supposed to be here at 5:30 got really really lost and didn't arrive
until after 7. We would have saved her some cake, but she had it with her.

* And...

somebody's hair caught on fire.

I'm totally serious.

You know, I don't think a party really gets going until somebody's hair catches fire.

Don't you think?


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