Friday, December 26, 2008

The Ghost of Christmas Past

About four years ago, I bought John a stopwatch for Christmas. I had it stashed in my closet before wrapping it & that was when I realized that it was somehow set on an alarm which went off every few hours. Every time it did, I went & pushed buttons on it until it silenced. Keywords "every time." Because it happened over & over & over....

Finally, I didn't hear it for a couple of days! Breathing a sigh of relief, I wrapped it up & put it under the tree.

That was when I realized that I hadn't succeeded in turning the alarm off entirely.....

Every few hours for two weeks, I had to tremble & talk loudly so John wouldn't hear his present beeping under the tree. I was glad when it was time to open that package.....

Ah. Good times.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Off We Go (and other tales)

Probably, perhaps, it is barely possible that you may have been wondering what has been up in my life through these past months of silence.

Most importantly, the answer is that my status in life has forever changed. From Katie, sister of ordinary civilian Paul I have metamorphasized into Katie, sister of Airman Basic Paul. I'm SO proud of his successful graduation from basic military training in the airforce. His next promotion is up and comin' & he's stationed in Missouri going to school for now.

I miss him.

Otherwise, I've managed a couple of vacations in between family, church, work and resting & recovering from my illness (yes, still...!).

First came a fabulous camping trip over labor day weekend. I lost miserably at Yatzhee & discovered that in a battle between a canoe & the ocean surf, the canoe loses. But I sort of learned to fly a stunt kite. And being dumped in the ocean is more fun that it sounds.

In September, I went to Georgia to visit a close friend for her birthday. I enjoyed surprising her with my appearance on the scene & we had a great time together...just too short.

Then, I spent my Thanksgiving vacation in San Antonio for Paul's graduation from Basic. Thanksgiving on the Riverwalk!

I read Gone with the Wind. I have been lost only rarely, thanks to Jeeves--the GPS which is still one of the best gifts I've ever received. I am on the lookout for a pair of boots at decent price. My eyes need to be checked. I took Abigail to a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta for her birthday & felt like I was celebrating my birthday at the same time. Which reminds me, I did have a birthday during my long silence. Gas is below $2/gallon. I had to explain to someone recently that, yes, I remember when gas was $2/gallon before. Apparently, I am as adorably youthful as ever. I took on four piano students. I got four cavities filled. I love my life.

Also, my toes are wretchedly cold.

Are we feeling up to date yet?

Saturday, December 06, 2008

After You

Abigail & I love to cuddle warmly in our beds in the evening alternately reading, giggling, & chatting. Eventually, we work ourself into a comfortable state of sleepiness. That is approximately when we run accross the major bone of contention in our otherwise amicable relationship.

The light.

By way of blame, a minor reconfiguration of our home created a mild inconvenience in the girls' room. By way of explanation, our light switch is outside of our bedroom. By way of a solution, our tentative rule of thumb requires the girl who last got in to bed to be the one who gets up to turn it off. I say tentative because rule though it is, it does not eliminate a (friendly) argument at least twice a week. And that's after the (friendly) race to be the first to bed.

The other night after an especially long chat-fest, Abigail & I wound down in an especially warm & cozy state. Turning off the light was an especially undesirable chore. Sweet girl that I am, I finally dragged myself grumbling out of bed to perform the duty. Reaching the doorway, I turned just in time to see Abigail leap laughing from bed. "Actually, I have to go to the restroom," she giggled, "I was just waiting for you to get up...."

After I finished growling at her, she finished her unrepentant exaltations, and we finished laughing, I announced that she is solely responsible for the light switch for the next week. At least.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

The Smell Of Freshly Mown Grass....

It's one of my favorite scents.

In November, it's just wrong.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Boy Talk

Overheard while I was putting on makeup a few days ago:

"Click..." ('twas the sound of a dart gun)

"You're dead."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are; I hit your shoulder. The bullet went into your heart."

"No, you hit my shoulder and my shoulder is just broken...."

"Well, I shot you point blank."

"That's why my shoulder is broken. It was a blunt blow. "

"If I shot you right *here*, you'd be dead..."

"No, then my jaw would just be broken."

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Tough Going

I haven't forgotten how to write, I promise. But my germs-of-ideas for writing topics are simply refusing to be written. Frustrating, I call it.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Exercise is...

A trip to Wal-Mart.

How come there is never a parking place by the door, never an item you need that is near the front of the store, never a line that is short?

Or is it just me?

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Some Like It Bright, Some Like It Dim

It's evening. For the first and only time in the day, everyone is together. Carrying dishes into the dining room to prepare for the evening meal, someone turns the light on. When everything is ready, people begin to gather around the table. Then, someone spots Dad heading for the room. For a moment it's quiet while everyone draws a collective breath. There is always a possibility it won't happen tonight....

But it's inevitable.

Dad enters the room and turns the light down to its lowest setting.

With a release of our breath, we smile at each other companionably. We're eating in the dark again.

"What's this you made for dinner," someone might joke to the cook, "I can't quite see to tell." "Did anyone put napkins on the table?" another might say, "Oh, here...I found it. Sorry, it was a bit dim in my corner." Still another might call across the table, "Hello, is anyone there?" My night vision is a little off tonight." "I think I hear a bat in that corner over there," another might giggle.

Dad smiles back triumphantly. "Anyone can eat," he defends his choice as adding high-class ambiance, "I and my family--we dine."

***

And so I am equipped to plan the perfect Father's Day gift. With these I figure Dad will be able to dine any time of the day or night, while, yeoman like, we can just eat if we wish.

But then again, maybe the extra culture isn't hurting me. I might be invited to meet the President someday, in which case I should surely know how properly to dine.

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Up To Date

My writing fingers are rusty. Well, actually they're mostly unseasonably dry...but rusty sounds better. I'm determined, regardless, to use them again.

In case you were wondering what I've been up to lately...

Meet Josie.

My new car. There's just no dollar amount that corresponds with the peace of mind I have behind her wheel. I'm sure she's not perfect, but she hasn't broken down yet or given indication of wanting to...so I'd say she's already broken Wooster's track record. Wooster was my last car. (And I'm happy to say that my GPS--Jeeves--seems as happy to work with Josie as ever he was with Wooster.)

Sitting behind wheel of my new car is a new me. At least, my hair is somewhere about a foot shorter. I've heard very little commentary on the topic from friends and acquaintances (besides the close friends who are naturally obligated to say something), so I am content to conclude that the new style suits me.

I am slowly recovering from my illness. Also slowly, I am internalizing some of the lessons God has intertwined with this period of my life.

Gas will likely hit $5/gallon here within the next two weeks or so. On which depressing note, let's change the subject.

How 'bout you tell me you've missed me.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Count Me In

I'm back to blogging. (I think.)

Stay tuned.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Saturday, April 12, 2008

"When"

Have you ever found it funny how advertisers for "your dream vacation," "your perfect wedding," and other (expensive) exhilarating events like to refer to them as "once-in-a-lifetime"? It may be true that such experiences are often limited to just once. But, when it comes down to it I'd far rather have applying a band-aid be the sort of experience that's once in a lifetime. Rarity seems hardly a plus when considering the best things in life.

I've definitely been riding high and dry these days where dream vacations and weddings are concerned. But I don't want to cram all my "onces-in-a-lifetime" into the first half of my life, so that's ok. I've been so busy, besides, with the too-many-for-one-lifetime sort of experiences the advertisers don't talk about that I haven't had time for anything else.

Take car trouble, for example.

I feel like I am a little girl again, at a tea party where someone's brother is serving the tea. "Say 'when,'" he demands, politely, beginning to pour. "That's enough, thank you." He keeps pouring. "I don't need anymore, thank you." He keeps pouring. "*squeal* You overflowed my cup!!!" To which he oh-so-innocently responds, producing a rag to wipe it up, "You didn't say 'when.'"

Yes. Somewhere along the line, I think I must have forgotten to say "when."

Which must be the reason my car mysteriously disappeared from my driveway in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago. Such moments make for a good twist in a murder mystery, but even without a body they're rather inconvenient in real life. Not to mention the police officer who filed the theft report didn't so much as produce a magnifying glass. Boooring....

So just for the record, I say "WHEN!"

Maybe my next car will run for five consecutive years causing no more trouble than an infrequent need for gas or an oil change. Now that would be a for once in my lifetime experience worth having.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

I Used To Think....

1. I used to think I'd never, ever be too busy, sick, tired, sad, happy, or overwhelmed to write.

2. I used to think that "a brother born for adversity" meant that brothers were a means of adversity in life. Sometimes--very rarely, I promise--I still think my first interpretation was the right one.

3. Speaking of siblings, I used to think that charming poem about "a little shadow, that goes in and out with me" had a little something to do with small siblings.

4. I used to think that verbal communication improved in proportion to the increasing size of the words employed. Then I got my first minimum wage job. I was shocked at the stares I received from coworkers in response to even the most elementary words like (I kid you not!) "elementary." Later, at another job a coworker who was soon afterwards promoted to a management position wildly guessed that "modulate" meant a style of music--a type of dance? He was confused because I asked someone to please "modulate" their rate of speech. Lesson learned? Perhaps. I did resist the incredible temptation to describe something as having a "soporific effect" the other day.

5. I used to think my performance at croquet and miniature golf was disgraceful. I still think so.

6. I used to think that when I grew up, keeping things neat would be second nature. I'm wavering in this conviction; I have yet to have a birthday alter my first nature, much less my second.

7. I used to think that Mom didn't know what I really did when I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing.

8. I used to think that God would be sanctifying me within a clear, definable pattern of increasingly holy steps of Christ likeness. Now I'm not sure how closely to my paradigm it really works since I seem to be faced with the same lessons over and over and over again. I'm hoping it's just that sanctification isn't very measurable from the earthly side of things.

9. That reminds me, I used to think God's direction would always look like a one way street with "wrong way" plastered over every other possible route. I've been coming to think that it's neither as simple to gain His direction as I used to think nor as hard as the "one right way" quirk in my brain wants to make it.

10. I used to think Algebra was hard. That was before I had bills to pay.

11. I used to think that my life's energy should be poured into "the best," in all of its applications and with all of its elusiveness. Now, I'd add four words..."that I can be."

HT: Amy

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Narrow-Minded

Mountain-rimmed sun-dazzled horizons exist. But sometimes a walk through a thick forest when you're focused on watching for roots that threaten to trip you--sometimes that makes snow-peaks and sun-dance seem like a dream.

Which explains my prolonged blog-silence. My horizons seem to have shrunken to just about the size of how well or otherwise I feel on a given day. Which is just about as worthy of description as a cautious stumble down a root-filled forest path would be.

When I'm out of the woods, maybe I'll find it an experience worth distilling into anecdotal form. If not, I know there will be other things worth sharing from my bitty corner of this mountain-dotted, sunshine-glorified globe.

So I'll be back.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Ahoy!

Hi to various and sundry who may be wondering if I have fallen off of the face of the globe.

I haven't.

But I have been travelling. I enjoyed an extended stay in Mitford, North Carolina. And now I'm in Avonlea, Prince Edward Island, Canada. Drop me a line and I'll send you a postcard. Cheaper yet, run to the library and grab all it takes to join me.

I'll be back.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Some Helpful Hints

If my pulse readings were reliable indicators, I died twice last weekend in the emergency room. But, obviously, I am living, breathing, walking, and telling you about it. Yes, I've had an exciting week. I'd say it was exciting in the worst sense of the word, but "worst" would be if I was not living, breathing, walking, or telling you about it, right?

I reached a semi-dramatic beginning of the end of a quite long downward spiral in my health last weekend and started this week with a nothing-too-serious sort of diagnosis and a hopeful prognosis. So no worrying about me.

But if you want to know about emergency rooms, I now have experience to share. I recommend keeping warm, for one. If you are not shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, your pulse reading will not register an initial indicator of "dead." I also recommend taking parents along. After the initial fuss is over and the resting in a hospital bed waiting for answers begins, you should not be too bored if they are there.

My parents found my heart monitor especially fascinating. "Get upset, Katie," Mom urged, eyes glued to the monitor, "think of something really sad." "Ok, now think peaceful thoughts," eyes still on the monitor. "Katie," Dad suggested excitedly, "gasp like you're startled!...Yeah! Look at that peak! Do it again!"

I think Dad missed his calling, based on what I learned Saturday night. He should have been a Dr. Or at least a nurse. He sat in the "Staff Only!" chair, jiggled the bed as I was falling asleep, plugged the heart monitor back in when the nurse forgot, explained to me with pleasurable drama how INCREDIBLY HUGE the IV cathater was going to be, and ultimately provided the diagnosis with admirable gravity: "I know what's wrong with you, Katie. You have...a massive brain enigma."

Mom, meanwhile, caused my second death alert by cutting off my circulation (briefly!) right above the pulse monitor just for the fun of seeing the reading drop to 0.

The moral of the story is that you should not worry if you have no measurable pulse. It is possible to live, breath, walk, and tell about it afterwards.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Frugal Living, Anyone?

According to a new study released from the Netherlands, dying young is one way to save money. (Apparently, people tend to spend less over the course of their lifetime when that lifetime is shorter.)

Just thought you'd like to know that.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Vignettes

One word description of the last week: cold! And I do mean, cold. Maybe not by Arctic standards. Or Maine standards. Or by Himalayan standards. But by Seattle, Washington standards, the temperatures that dropped into the teens this last week and froze our world solid definitely qualify as "cold!" With an exclamation mark.

Peter innagurated the cold snap early in the week by setting out a couple of buckets with varying levels of water. He was hoping they would freeze solid. Only the shallow one did, but he is still hoping. The cold isn't quite over yet.

He is also chipping off chunks of ice and saving them...just to have them, I'm not sure why. He calls it his ice collection and he is rather proud of it. Today was the first time Mom had heard about the ice collection.

"Ice collection? Where?" she wanted to know.

Dead silence reigned for a moment, then all the kids said in unison, "In the freezer."

****

I was asking Abigail last night what she was going to wear to church today.

"Oh," she replied, vaguely, "a bunch of your stuff."

When I first saw her this morning, I found a "bunch" of my "stuff" rather an understatement. She was even wearing my jewlery.

She grinned, "I decided this is 'Wear Katie's Stuff Day.'"

I love having a sister.

****
One of my bad bad habits is bringing my stuff in the door, dumping it on a nearby chair, and forgetting to ever put it away. The other night, as I was heading down to bed I happened to notice my stuff on the chair.

"Oh," I said, "I'd better grab that. I want to be a good example, after all."

Paul and John laughed.

"Good luck with that," Paul said, dubiously.

"I was just about to say that doesn't sound possible," John said, politely.

They gave each other a high five. I rolled my eyes, but I love having brothers too.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Life. Is. Hard.

One thing about our office building at work, we share a "lunch room" with several other companies. The thing about the lunch room is that it requires any of us who may want to go there to maneuver through six doors (three of them locked--it's a secure environment) and walk outside the building to get to it. Most of us drink water (some of us a lot of water) and most of us like the ice and filtered water obtainable in the lunch room. So a lot of trips to the lunch room end up happening at our place.

Because of the trouble involved in fetching anything from the lunch room, several of us usually take turns getting each other something to drink. When it is my turn, I do my best to fulfill orders accurately, and I usually manage it well. It helps having long fingers when it comes to balancing several full cups while unlocking, opening, and closing multiple doors.

But I do run into problems with any orders for a "half glass." I want to fulfill the request "just right" and there are so many difficulties with measuring "half a glass."

Should I measure a half from the top of the glass? Or is it half of what is usually a full glass which really isn't all the way to the top of the glass? What if the cup is narrower at the bottom than the top--if I measured a half visually that wouldn't be a real cubic half, would it? What if ice is required--do I allow for the displacement created by the ice? What if it is soda--how much extra should I pour out because of what will gradually be lost in volume as the fizz dies down? And if I am measuring from the top of the glass, not allowing for a narrow base, allowing for ice, and not allowing for soda, how will that half glass look different from a half glass where, say, I measure from what is normally a full glass (which really isn't to the top of the glass), allow for a narrow base, allow for ice, and allow for fizz?

I have yet to solve all of these problems satisfactorily in my own mind, but no one has complained yet.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Made For Walkin'

Ok, so life is not as boring as my last post (maybe) maybe it sound.

Nor is life depressing.

Except in the shoe department.

I have been looking for replacements for my very plain pair of dress shoes for about a month and a half. I spent about ten dollars on my newly retired pair almost a year ago. They served me well, but you really can't ask for more than a year out of any $10.00 pair of shoes. If you actually wear them, that is.

So, I started looking. Shoe stores, department stores, speciality stores. I feel like I've been everywhere. It seems that nowhere is there an ordinary pair of inexpensively priced, conservatively colored, 8 1/2 narrow sized, pretty business-like styled shoe to be found.

In desperation, I settled for a decent pair of shoes on sale for $30.00. I was reasonably pleased with them until I wore them to work for the first time. Perhaps a squeak in your shoe might be acceptable if you worked in a factory, but in a quiet office it sounds something like gunfire.

I am currently deciding which of my shoe-shopping criterium to compromise on. Since price and size are somewhat non-negotiable, I'm thinking the break will have to come in style. Maybe I wouldn't look so bad in neon orange spike heels after all?

Meanwhile, I'm making do with an old pair of shoes my sister outgrew. They are half a size too large and a shade too blue. But they don't squeak and they aren't a year old pair of ten dollar shoes.

So, if I run into you on the street one of these days, kindly overlook my shoes? I'm just saying.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Plain Speaking

There is very little worthy of general interest to report in my little universe-let.

I get up every day and go to work, except on Saturday when I sleep in if I am lucky. And Sunday when I sorta kinda sleep in then get up and go to church where I spend the majority of the day. Work has been increasingly challenging and therefore increasingly enjoyable to me. When I am not at work or church, I spend most of my time reading, writing, cooking, talking, playing games, and putting off various projects. Sometimes there is a social event thrown in the mix. On Tuesday evenings, I volunteer at a local ministry whose mission is to be a help and support to women who are faced with unplanned pregnancies, and babies of same. My family, with whom I spend the majority of any spare time I happen to have, are all well with nothing especially reportable going on. If you were to hang out at our house, you would hear random snips of information about jobs, school, things we have learned, people we know, things we need to accomplish, and enthusiastic discussions about controversial issues especially those pertaining to politics or religion. When everyone else is quiet (which is rare with Peter and I in the house), John talks and tells us about his passion--computer programming. I cannot elaborate, because that is a language I neither speak nor understand.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Resolved?

Some years I make "New Year's Resolutions," some years I don't. Usually I don't. I've heard various logical arguments for and against the practice, but the main reason I don't is because by the time I've narrowed the possibilities down to what I might resolve if I was going to resolve it is really too late to resolve because the time in which I could have resolved if I was going to resolve has already passed. So then it's not technically a "New Year's Resolution" any more. It is reduced to merely "an-area-in-my-life-that-needs-to-change-so-I-am-going-to-start-working-on-that-now." I'd like to point out that this does not make New Year's Resolutions a good topic for everyday, ordinary small talk with me.

"No, I didn't make a New Year's Resolution. Instead, I isolated an-area-in-my-life-that-needs-to-change-so-I-am-going-to-start-working-on-that-now. Do you have an-area-in-your-life-that-needs-to-change-that-you-are-going-to-start-working-on-now?"

One area-of-my-life-that-needs-to-change these days is that of exercise. I'm starting-to-work-on-that by getting up forty-five minutes early and walking.

There are a few other things I need to work on too. In fact, I seem to have an endless supply. Wanna have some of mine?