Here Kitty Kitty Kitty...

The other night, I came home around 10pm and Arwen was outside. Normally, we keep the cats inside at night.

I got out of the van and tried to coax her toward me. She ran under Rab's truck.

I went over to the truck and Arwen moved just out of my reach and lay down.

I walked around to the back tire to reach her and she moved to the front tire.

I walked over to the front tire - in my defense, the garage was DARK - and I...well...ummm....I stepped on a rake and slammed myself hard in the head. I had an instant goose egg. And now, days later, it still hurts.

Go ahead and laugh. My family did. In fact, they are still laughing. Rab has been calling me "my little cartoon character."

So my sister told a friend who told another friend who, when she heard the story, responded, "She did not...that only happens in cartoons." In cartoons and in my life. Same difference.

You know you're an ENFP when...

You know you're an ENFP when...

you're laying in bed and your children's choir director calls you at 7:15...ummmm 8:15... to alert you to the fact that you forgot to change your clocks and to remind you that service starts in 15 minutes.

A Bit of An Update

It's been so long since I've consistently shared my daily musings...

Here's just a few of the random thoughts clogging my brain:

- Record snowfall. Here in Jerusalem, we've had over 70" of snow this winter. We've proudly beat the record set in 1978. Hint: if you want to hear about the winter of 78 (or 82 or 26 or 39...), just ask any local. They'll be glad to give you a play-by-play of each snowflake, abandoned car on County roads, and not-so-daring stories of how they survived.

- Minky. Minky is studying dental health in school. He's actually considered the idea of brushing his teeth without being reminded.

- Minkyism. The other day, my mom told Mink that she was hoping to come visit for my birthday this Spring. She apologized for not being able to make it for his birthday, to which he replied flatly, "It's ok, Gramma. I'm used to you never being here for my birthday."

- Rab. Rab, in his ongoing soft-pedalling midlife crisis, continues to ponder what occupation is calling to him. In the meantime, he's continuing to be a stay at home dad. The role shift is a little weird, but overall it's really a great thing. And it definitely gives the locals something to be fully and deeply confused about. Rab's arranged an after-school routine and homework regime, and he's redone Minky's bedroom (bright, licorice red, pictures forthcoming). Rab's still in midstream with redoing the dining room. Please don't ask how long I've been living with a multi-colored (all bad), patched up dining room. The topic only makes me cranky.

- Sony. Sony is doing really great (big surprise, I know). He's thoroughly enjoying middle school and voluntarily comes to Confirmation each week with great fervor. He's actually not supposed to start confirmation until 7th grade, but heck, if the kid wants to be at church I'm certainly not going to stop him. Maybe his enthusiam about confirmaiton can help asuage my guilt over all the times I left the kids at home on Sunday with Rab so that I could worship peacefully.

- Spiritual Direction training. I continue to love SDDP (the acronym for my spiritual direction training program). I met my supervisor a few weeks ago and she rocks. Well...as much as a peaceful, calm nun can rock anyway. I'm loving the reading. I'm grudgingly getting through the required verbatims (argh...memories of CPE!).

- Estate of My Greatest Fan. I'm still serving as personal representative for my Dad's estate. For awhile there, my sister was calling every day with her anxiety and panic about the business buyout. She has some reason to be frustrated but it really began to wear on me personally. We ended up serving a notice to creditors to a nearby business that may (but really shouldn't) have interest in my dad's dough due to contamination of the land we own now. For the meantime, we're waiting out the 30 day notice period and the break in daily decisions and news is a welcome one. The entire estate stuff, overall, has been a real source of disappointment and energy drain. It's a long story I'm fairly sure I shouldn't share here (and you, dear reader, probably really don't want to hear it anyway). I talked to one of our lawyers yesterday and in order to transfer one of Dad's investments, I have to get a "Medallion Signature Guarantee" on a bunch of papers. Well, as one might imagine, Jerusalem has no bank that offers such a service. As soon as the paperwork arrives, I'll be heading about 35 miles North to get to a bank that can provide the service. Just where the hell am I living?!!?!?!?

- Therapy. Ever since Dad died, I've been sustained and strengthened by therapy. I'm so thankful for it. Just wanted to share.

- More Minky news. We've started with a new psychologist/psychiatrist team. They're solid, reputable, good guys with a no prisoners attitute. Last night, Rab and I introduced THE NEW PLAN, which includes black and white rules, clear cut boundaries, an all-or-nothing points system and other counter-intuitive (to me) stuff. As we were stating that part of the plan includes the expectation that there will no longer be discussion or negotiation on Minky's part, he interupted with, "Well, what if I really have something I need to say?"

If you've made it this far, I'm impressed. Hope to hear from you and to find out if anyone is even still checking the blog.

Urban Planning in a Small Town

Last night, I went to the big meeting about the hopes for a community center. There were 6 people there... These folks, along with 2 or 3 others who couldn't make it to the meeting, are hoping to arrange for a community center with a 400-person capacity. The two nearest towns have ones that provide 200-250 person capacity.

On the one hand, the meeting was an interesting study is big city dreams/small town life. On the other hand, it showed me just how clueless I am about Jerusalem. As location possibilities were discussed, each was referenced by what used to be in the space: "you know, by the old dairy depot," "out by Ozzie's old farm," "the old school (which is ridden with asbestos), and, my favorite, "at the old pickle plant." There was also talk about some place that used to have something to do with chickens...

I'm still musing about the fact that I live in a town that used to have a pickle plant. Maybe when pigs fly and this center is built, it could be the memorial pickle parlor.

Consequences

This actually happened awhile back, but I keep forgetting to blog it.

In conversation with Minky's psychologist, we decided to become more and more clear about consequences. When something great happened, we'd point out how it was a positive consequence from a good decision or action. When something crummy happened, we'd point out the situation that precipitated it. The week went on and we weren't sure if all our talk of consequences was sinking in.

Then I saw Minky out on the porch hanging around the mailbox. Something seemed a little off. I went to see what he was up to. The cat was locked in the mailbox. Yes, you read that correctly.

When I asked what was going on, Minky said that he had tried to pick the cat up and the cat growled at him using "a bad tone of voice and naughty sounding cat words." He thought that the cat needed a consequence.

3 Updates, 1 Post

What a week. A few times in the last few days, I've found myself thinking or saying, "Yep, that'll blog." So here you go, a bit of real life humor to get you through your Monday:

Story One: Lock and Key
Rab and I spent the better part of Sunday cleaning out and organizing the basement of the Cute Gray House. The basement has been a dumping ground for the last few months and, being hidden away from the view of visitors, it was the last room to receive some much needed attention.

We cleaned, we assembled shelves, we moved hazardous materials out of harm's (and Minky's) way. At one point, Minky was "helping" us by chipping away at one of the exterior walls with a hammer. Rab asked him to stop numerous times and finally Minky had had enough. Minky stomped up the stairs yelling and slammed the door. Rab and I both sighed in relief...until we heard the lock turn. There we were, locked in the basement with the dog with no way out (the previous owner saw to it that all the doors and windows of the basement were sealed shut).

After talking Minky down a bit, we convinced him to get the key and explained where the key was hidden. He came back with the key but was unable to make it work. We asked Minky to go get Sony. Sony, we could hear through the vents, was upstairs watching TV and did not want to be disturbed. After yelling up the vents for him to come help, he stomped down the stairs with the best heavy-footed, groaning, prepubescent walk known to man. He came to the door and was unable to unlock it. We asked him to go get our neighbors and ask them for help. Instead, he went into his best prepubescent hopelessness and went back upstairs to continue watching TV! After 5-10 more minutes of Minky trying the lock (and the dog crossing his legs), Minky said resolutely, "Don't worry, Mom, I've got an idea." These are never good words when they come from Minky...

Next thing we knew, Minky had figured out that he could unscrew the lock from the door frame (pretty ingenious if you ask me). About 10 more minutes later, we were freed. Of course, this entire story is better in person, but this at least gives you a glimpse of our Saturday adventures.

Story Two: Last time I checked
Yesterday, we went to see Shrek 3. Afterward, Rab and I told the kids we had to run a couple errands. The boys moaned and groaned in response, very aggravated that they'd have to tag along. "We don't want to," they whined. "We hate errands," they moaned. "We're not going," Sony declared. "Hmmm...." I responded, "Last time I checked, you weren't the mom or the dad." Minky responded, "Yeah, well last time I checked you didn't buy us any soda or popcorn at the movie."

Story Three: Minky and his illnesses
Last week was our first sick-free week in 15 weeks!  Yea, us!  If Minky would have had his way, though, our sick-streak would have continued.  One morning last week, Minky tried to convince me he was really ill.  Strangely, the symptoms kept moving...stomach, head, throat, you name it.  I went upstairs at one point and came down to find him leaning over his barstool, with a puddle of spit beneath him on the floor.  "See!"  he exclaimed, "I am sick!  Look at the barf!"

Later that day, Minky had OT at school and was supposed to go back to his classroom afterward.  When he was 5-10 minutes late, his teacher, Mrs. Matter-o-Fact, assumed the occupational therapist was just taking a little extra time with him.  When 20 minutes rolled around, Mrs. Matter-o-Fact called the OT who said she'd sent Minky back to class 20 minutes ago.  Mrs. Matter-o-Fact called the office and found out that he had sent himself to the nurse's office (why didn't the nurse or the office call his teacher????).  When Mrs. Matter-o-Fact went to claim him in the office, the entire office staff was convinced that he was indeed ill.  They were pampering him and feeling sorry for him.  Reportedly, he was in his element.  Mrs. Matter-o-Fact didn't buy it and told him he'd just have to work with his headache anyway.  Five minutes later, he was goofing off as if he'd never been ill.  He even told Mrs. Matter-o-Fact, "Wow, I feel so much better now!" Funny how lucky that boy is - he experiences miracle cures all the time!

Just a reminder...

If you are washing a car with your 8 year old and he accidentally fills the bucket with plain water and you say, "dump the whole thing"...make sure he understands that you mean the bucket of water and not the container of soap that's going into the water.

I speak from soapy experience.

How Do We Begin to Explain Some Things?

Our congregation's oldest member, Sweet Lady, is preparing to die. Rapidly throughout this week, her condition has continued to fail. I feel honored and lucky to have known her. She is a precious lady.

Yesterday, with her consent, the family gathered around her as we prayed the Service for the Commendation of the Dying. Afterward, she held my hand and told me she loved me, she prayed and hoped Jerusalem would continue to treat me well, and she blessed my ministry. It was a tearful, holy ground moment. Then she smiled as best she could, looked in my eyes, and said, "Now you come see me sometime when I die, ok?" Sense of humor and vast love to the end.

After the Good Friday service, I stopped by again to see how the family was holding up and how Sweet Lady was doing. She was sleeping peacefully and the tearful family was watching Sound of Music on the television. After visiting awhile, we prayed together. I began with the words, "Oh God, sometimes the waiting is difficult. We compel you to continue to usher Sweet Lady into your kingdom..." Right after those words, the Von Trapp children chimed in, "So Long! Farewell! Auf wiedersehen, Goodbye..."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

It can't be possible. C'mon. No way. This morning, Minky was diagnosed with strep and a possible ear infection. Once again, I worked from home (at least I wrote all my Holy Week sermons). Will my kids ever be consistently healthy?!

Oh, and while I was home, I received our insurance settlement for Sony's recent tonsilectomy. Ends up we owe the hospital $858 in "co-insurance." I need a shot of tequila.

The rat, the tonsils and snow

Today was a doctor day for the family. Sony had his tonsils removed at the hospital about 15 miles away. I was so impressed with the place. The doctors, nurses and staff were so friendly, competent and thorough. What a relief! Sony has had strep throat 5 times this winter. After the first time, in November, he began experiencing post-strep joint pain throughout his body. Some days, he could barely move. On a scale of 1 to 10, his pain was often reported to be an 11. It's been a horrible experience to watch my beloved 10 year old suffer so needlessly. Somehow, miraculously, the last antibiotic for strep seemed to eradicate the joint pain that had sent us to more than a handful of doctors and specialists over the past 3 months. There's something a bit ironic about the medicine prescribed by a nurse practictioner doing what several pediatricians, a pediatric rheumatologist and a pain expert could not. The more I use and visit nurse practictioners, the more impressed I become.

Rab left the hospital shortly before Sony returned to his room because the Visiting Vet was on her way to the Cute Gray House to examine Legolas the rat. Poor Leggy has scabs all over his neck from non-stop scratching. Ends up he has some weird rat skin mite thing. The $5 rat cost us $100 today. At least Minky was here when the vet arrived - she let him go with her into her mobile vet unit mobile home and also let him look under the microscope at Leggy's hair. Minky thought that was incredibly cool.

We're in the midst of yet another snow storm. At one point this week and at one point last week, nearly all the snow had melted away. But then Mother Nature reblanketed the place with a new white layer. Argh. It makes me cranky. I don't like it. The weather was so bad last Sunday that we actually cancelled church (not just me, but nearly all the churches in the area). My parishoner/pharmacist gave me a bad time today when I went to pick up Sony's prescription, saying, "Geez...you didn't work Sunday and now you're not working today!?!" I replied, "Well, you know, I'm a slacker." Then I remembered that I had visited a parishoner in the hospital today while Sony was in surgery, so I pointed that out to parishoner/pharmicist and said, "Yeah, if my kid's gonna have surgery, at least I'll schedule it for a day when someone from the church is there too!" We laughed.

Today, the drifts were so bad to and from the hospital that there were places where the visibility was less than 1/10 mile. The roads themselves weren't too bad but the visibility made venturing out a bit scary. The local school, which tends to seldom close or delay, actually released kids two hours early (much to Minky's joy!). I sometimes fear the snow will never let up, which means my garage will never become organized and the moving boxes will take up permanent residence on our porch. The Cute Gray House may need to be renamed the White Trash Gray House if those boxes remain much longer...

Arwen the Brilliant

Arwen the bulimic cat is at it again. Before I tell the story, I need to explain that Rab's office at the Cute Gray House has two doors - a slider that leads to the living room and a regular door that leads to the hallway. The doors are on the same side of the room, about 8 feet apart - one on the East wall and the other on the West wall.

A few days ago, I closed the hallway door so the dog could not get into the living room. Arwen was in the office when I closed the door, so I made sure the slider was wide open. About an hour or so later, I opened the hallway door. Arwen was standing on the other side, in an absolute panic, meowing and whining...thinking she was trapped.

I'm surrounded by brilliance.

Oh, sometimes I just can't believe what my kid does

Oh, TT.

We had a new babysitter tonight - one of my parishoner's kids. She was set up to watch the kids every Sunday so Rab and I could have a consistent date night. Aaaahhhh...the best laid plans. Looks like one date night was enough.

I've yet to get the complete story, but what I know now is that Rab and I were just pulling into the Piggly Wiggly to pick up a few groceries after a wonderful dinner. My phone rang and I answered it to hear a very distressed teenager on the other side of the line. Apparently, when she told TT it was time for bed, there was some sort of run in and he ended up grabbing Rab's Leatherman off the kitchen counter downstairs and threatening her with it. He got pretty close to her at one point.

I am so horrified I can't even see straight.

My weird cat

Arwen the bulimic cat has developed a new issue. She is deeply afraid of ceiling fans. She avoids the kitchen like the plague - hissing and growling if anyone takes her in there. When she walks in the living room, she slinks along the walls keeping an eye on the mean, nasty ceiling fan at all times. She will not avert her gaze, even if it means walking backwards.

Unfortunately for Arwen, there are 5 ceiling fans in our new house (for now, anyway, until we rip them out and replace them with new lighting). Luckily, she is not alone. Check out Gizmo the cat and his ceiling fan issues. Amazing what you find on Google images...

There are some things you just don't lose

like your mortgage paperwork that needs to be sent to the benevolent company willing to lend you thousands of dollars. Yep...that's right, I can't find it. All I want for Christmas is a really efficient, forgiving and patient secretary.

Quick! Somebody call Marcus Welby, M.D.!

This week, I have driven over 500 miles, 400+ of them for medical reasons:

On Monday, I took Minky to LaCrosse for vision therapy and reading tutoring

On Tuesday, I took Minky to his awesome psychiatrist in Cedar Rapids

On Wednesday, I took Sony to the doctor because his knee was bothering him (dx: post-strep complications)

On Thursday, I took the cat to the vet because he was being a brat. The vet discovered that the cat had a nasty abcess.

On Friday, I drove to Jerusalem for the house inspection on the Cute Gray House (all checks out well. I met the current owner and then my realtor took me out to lunch!)

My minivan is a fine, functional companion, but all this driving is getting a bit ridiculous.

Oh yeah, and also on Friday, Rab drove Sony back to the doctor to find out that the strep is back, drove cat #1 to the vet to have the abcess rechecked and while there, cat #2 came hobbling down the stairs with an injured front leg. Rab returned home and took cat #2 to the vet then brought both cats back home.

Reindeer Games

The more I ponder the whole bidding war thing, the more at peace I am about walking from the house in the country. The sellers disregarded our deadline date without any communication or apology then spit in our face (admittedly, perhaps they spit back in reaction to our low offer). This afternoon, the realtor sent me their counter-offer even though we are not accepting it. The counter made me all the happier that we've decided not to play their reindeer games. It's all corporate and no humanity. I refuse to give money to such a venture. I'm talking my money back and not playing.

The Cute Gray Charmer, my new name for our new house, is a better investment anyway and the seller is in a situation where our buying the house helps a difficult life situation. It's a win-win and, from what I can tell already, she is approaching the offer with a human mentality. The Charmer was built in 1870 and comes with a home inspection already completed. There are minor, naggy things to fix (like a handrail on the basement stairs heading outside), but nothing major. The Charmer has been rewired, replumbed, has a new water heater, newer AC, new top-of-the-line windows and a tin roof. People tell me the tin roof is a great thing. Regardless, it's cute and seems to fit the house's style. As long as the cat doesn't go on it when it's hot outside, we're in good shape. Get it?

What is your quest?

This morning, I headed out to find Minky a new winter coat. Why is it that every year, the first 20 degree day finds us in a frenzy as we search for matching gloves, a winter coat that actually zips, and a hat? We know the weather is coming, we even begin to hope for a school delay, but somehow, we aren't prepared when the predicted-morning arrives.

I began my quest at Goodwill. You just never know what you'll find there and the prices can't be beat. The Dubuque Goodwill is actually one of the nicest Goodwills I've ever seen. I had no luck in the kid's coat department, but I did find some treasures: 2 cute metal pumpkins for $1.00, a spicerack for $1.00, an Erma Bombeck book for 25 cents, a bunch of kid's books for Minky for 25 cents each, and, the bargain of all bargains, a CD for $2 called Music for Lonely Housewives. The title made it too good to pass up. It's a compilation of great hits from the 70s like One Less Bell to Answer and I Will Survive. I'm going to go hit the disco...ummmm...errr...my minivan stereo now.

PS I found a winter coat for Minky at Kohl's. With my 15% off coupon and today's sale, I got a Nike double layer coat (where one layer can be used independent of the other) for about $40. Not bad, eh?

Let's try this again...

The realtor called me this afternoon. The bank/mortgage company/repo dealer/whoever they are countered our offer. We offered significantly less than the list price and asked for pre-occupancy (moving before we closed). They came down $900 on the list price (basically, they spit in our face) and said no way to pre-occupancy. We hmm'd and hawwed and got increasingly testy.

My initial knee-jerk reaction was to tell the realtor to counter with a figure $10,000 more than our initial offer. When Rab arrived home, we talked and decided we were in love with the location but not the house itself. The list of things we hoped to improve upon grew and grew as we talked about the house more and more. Improvements cost money and if we purchased this house, there would not be a lot of extra funds laying around to pay for all our dreams.

We got out the list with all of my notes about the other houses we saw during our visit. We went between two others - leaning all the while toward one over the other. The clinchers kept coming the more we pondered: The Gray House is more charming, is almost $20,000 less than The Bigger House By The School, seems to be a better home for our dining room set (this damn antique set has caused more problems than it's worth!), and needs fewer changes than any other house on our list (how ironic is that? The house that we can afford to change doesn't need a bunch of changes?!).

Tomorrow, we'll put an offer in on The Gray House. At asking price. Here's a picture of it. Cute, huh?

Just in case you ever drive my husband's Pathfinder...

Be careful where you feed the CD as you're driving down a dark country road listening to Minky say everything twice just because he feels like it (yeah, thought I was hearing double...). The area under the ash tray seems to fit a CD just fine. It only took me 25 minutes and the semi-dismantling of the dashboard to realize just where the CD ended up.

Tonight's adventures brought to you by the letter T

Throats. Telephone. Trust Fund. Tamale the dog. Tate the small town realtor. Timing. It's been quite a night.

Tonight, Rab and I put an offer down on a house via fax and through telephone conversation with Tate the small town realtor. It's 2000 sf on 1.6 acres in the country - 4 bedrooms, big living room, big family room, great laundry/utility room, mud room (!), decent kitchen, standard dining room. The land is the sweet part of the deal - the property line is marked out with large trees all around, there's a circle drive before you get to the driveway for the double car garage, and there's certainly room for a hot tub. We low-balled our offer because the house was repo'ed in 2005. Our CPA told us we probably had some wiggle room. So we wiggled...a lot. We'll see what happens. Rab had to break into the last of the trust fund money he inherited from his dad to make the earnest money payment. It felt weird to know that was the 2nd to last check we'd ever write from what used to be a mighty large sum.

After our conference call, Tate faxed the paperwork up to the Castle. We received it but then the phones went out (again...it's been happening all night) and we couldn't fax back the signed papers. Rab headed to his office to fax them and I was going to walk home. Just then Sister Shana drove up. She was headed to the library to send a fax. I explained the situation, we flagged down Rab and he faxed Shana's paperwork for her. Then she gave me a ride home. How's that for timing?

Now would be a great time to let you know a little about Tate. He is a small town kinda guy. We really like him. He doesn't do computer forms for offers - it's all handwritten. When he showed us around town last weekend, he suggested we follow him in our car because, "couples like to talk about the houses in between each one and if I'm there, you won't talk as much." At each house, we got a quick overview of who the buyers were and what their story was -- this was an entirely unique phenomena to us big city folks. When we were writing the offer tonight, we got to one page and he said, "This is the page that says I gave you the brochure I'm supposed to give you that I haven't given you. Just sign it at the bottom."

Poor Sony has strep throat. He hasn't been in school since last Wednesday and he's the kind of kid who is bummed by that. I keep calling him Ferris (as in Bueller)...he pretends he's not amused but he's laughing inside. Minky had to get a strep culture too, because that's just how our pediatrician is. His came back negative. Kind of like his mood. Just kidding... he's doing great (and I even caught him reading again today! WOW).

Minky and I just got back from letting Tamale the dog out. PMC's former music director had to leave town quickly and his wife called to see if we could watch Tamale until tomorrow night. We've watched Tamale before, so we were a natural choice. Tamale loves being at our house and hanging out with all the kids in the cul-de-sac. She's a cutie. However....grrrrrr....she opened the screen door on her own this afternoon and made a run for it. I had to trek through the burr-infested woods after the little monster. My favorite wool sweater seems to have been burred in vain - my neighbor caught Tamale. I love him. I used to love Tamale but not anymore.