Not today.  I know it’s Flashback Friday.  I even had a photograph picked out.  I can see it from where I’m sitting.  Today was just one of those days, and I just don’t wanna.

It’s Friday, and as you well know if you’ve been my friend on Facebook for any period of time, I LOVE Fridays because it’s JEANS DAY.  I look forward to it every other work day of the week.  I very rarely if ever take a Friday off when a Monday works just as effectively at giving me a three day weekend, if one is required.  I mean, honestly, I really like Fridays!  Then again, who doesn’t, jeans or no jeans?

About 1 millisecond after I turned off the shower this morning my husband called to tell me that the Public Works Director and cronies would be at our house in less than an hour to inspect our backyard.  They waited until the last minute to tell us when they were coming so that there was less of a likelihood that we would be home.  This was between 7:30 and 7:37 am, and I had been up since 6:30am.  I am not a morning person in general, but facing the prospect of a fight with the Village on short notice, a mere hour after waking, and before 9:00 am even can turn my happy Friday mood sour in no time flat.  Besides which, it was cold, and I had wet hair.  Add to that the fact that my husband wasn’t sure that he could turn around and make it back home to face them with me.  Let me be straight, my husband would be perfectly smitten if he could name me as the designated arguer of all things.  The problem is that although I’m good at holding my own and not backing down and arguing people into a circle until they admit that they are going to do what I want (sometimes), I find it all to be rather unpleasant.  I can’t shake that horrible adrenaline feeling I get by getting all worked up about something after it’s all over, and the angry mindset born of sheer frustration at my lack of control over the situation at hand.  It lingers, and festers, and left unchecked can truly ruin a good portion of my day.  So when this starts so early, and is in regards to something that is SO IMPORTANT…. well, it sucks.  I’m only human.  And I’m a crier.  Not while in the midst, but as a side effect of frustration and release of the adrenaline in the aftermath.  I HATE IT.  Of course it’s very easy for someone who cares about me to feel like I should just relax.  Let it go.  Duh, why didn’t I think of that myself?  Someone who didn’t just talk to a bitchy customer service representative at the telephone company for over an hour only to get nowhere in the end.  Yes!  I should relax!!  For. Sure.  I’m totally on it.

The meeting was so badly this morning, and I was so frustrated and full of despair at the situation (my husband did end up making it just moments before they rang the doorbell, btw) that I considered just crying right in the middle of it all, standing up against the fence in my back yard listening to their nonsensical bullshit.  There were at least three distinct moments during that 1.5 hours when I thought maybe it might be the absolute best thing for me to do for my own well being.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I broke down at work briefly when my boss asked me how it went.  I couldn’t even recount it because it was so upsetting.  I had this horrible anxiety that I carried around with me all day, and a knot in my stomach that just wouldn’t go away.  I went through my workday without actually speaking much at all which is CRAZY off for me.  So of course when I phoned my husband on my way home from work as I often do, I lost control of my tear ducts.  My mind, and my stomach, and my damned tear ducts were all in cahouts and they were absolutely plotting against me.  And I think it scared my husband a little, because usually when I have something upsetting enough to make me cry on the way home from work it’s fairly fresh, and I’m crying and bitching and/or yelling all at once.  But this was just silent, crazy, tears running down my face, all you hear is my sniffling type crying.  Which again is quiet, which is CRAZY off for me.  And frankly it all just really pisses me off.  Unfortunately there isn’t much that you can say to someone who is in such a state of overwhelming stress that is actually going to make it better.  Not that my dear husband doesn’t try.  And it isn’t that I wasn’t aware of the fact that my stress level was way off the charts high for the course of the entire day.  I was desperate to fix it, but this was seriously outside of my realm.  It was really kind of unexplainable, even though I’m attempting to explain it.

Obviously I made it home, and my husband was able to put a few things in perspective for me, even as my tear ducts and my evil stomach and whatever makes adrenaline were still wreaking havoc on my body and mind.  I still couldn’t relax, and it was a nice and sunny day even if it was a bit chilly.  I decided that since everything was wonky and everything about the day had been so off that I was going to do something different than normal.  Kind of.  I mean, it wasn’t an actual pattern of thought, more like just a nervous energy that sent me to the shed for SOMETHING.  Somehow, I picked raking.   You know there’s still snow on the ground here.  Except my mind was going CRAZY, so I got all geeked on raking up the pine needles on one side of our yard where they had removed a dead pine tree a week or two ago.  There are some mundane tasks that I despise.  Dusting.  Pulling weeds.  Raking.  At some point in the past 6 years I had declared that I wouldn’t be caught dead with a rake in my hand EVER for so long as I lived.  I bought a lawn chipper mulcher vacuum just to be sure.  Today though, I raked, and raked, and raked for about…. oh, I don’t know…. hours!  And when I finished raking, not only did I feel like I had shaken off the stress and the overwhelming anxiety that I had been carrying around, I wasn’t crying any longer, and my yard looked nicer too.  Which turned my frown upside down.  Raking!  Who knew?

Then I noticed that I had stepped in dog shit.  From the neighbor’s dog.  In my yard.

I had stopped knitting there for a while, even though it’s good for my mind.  It calms my brain when my hands are busy.  I have lots of knitting stuff, needles, books, tons of yarn in bags and baskets here and there.  All that stuff around, it DOES NOT calm my mind.  It’s a lot of STUFF just all about which makes me fee anxious.  It’s on the shelf, it’s behind the couch, it’s under the end table.  Seeing it around also gives me guilt, mostly because I’m not using it and it’s laying around gathering dust.  Dust, another thing I hate.  You know it needs attention when you pick it up and dust flies all over the place.  I never said I was a good housekeeper.  FYI, knitting isn’t a cheap hobby.  Well, the yarn isn’t exactly cheap, anyhow.  Nor are the books or the cute little things they sell in the knitting shop like the furry lamb measuring tape or the darning needles in the little case.  Or the bamboo needles, dang it.  I am lucky that I have lots and lots of needles that I have gotten at estate sales, garage sales, and one lucky haul off of freecycle that was AMAZING.  Love those freecycle people, whoever they are.

Anyhow, I finally found the yarn that I had purchased for CC’s poncho.  Yep, it’s hinting at a warm up so I am getting to work on knitting a dark brown poncho.  I know, I know, it’s almost spring already.  She’s still happy about it.  It’s an inexpensive wool yarn purchased from Michael’s.  Dark brown with the occasional cream flecks.  It reminds me of an old wool blazer that a grandpa would wear.  I’m not following a pattern of any kind, since it’s an easy poncho.  It’s basically  a big rectangle that you fold over and attach to itself.  If you do it right, of course.

I sat down to do a bit of knitting tonight before my hubby came home from work, and realized that I am knitting a poncho that will be about the right size for my daughter of 5 years ago.  If only I had my way back machine, this would work out great!  I have to make a decision to start over or to pick up stitches all around once it’s pieced together and then knit a big fat border.  That will probably look nice, but I’m not sure that’s what I want to do, because picking up stitches is a pain in the butt and this would involve like around a million.  It’s that, or I get to spend the evening ripping out what I’ve knitted over the past week.  Did I mention before that most of my knitting happens in reverse?

When I was a child, the adults in my life were mostly hippies.  It was the 70s, to be expected.  We used to spend lots of time at my uncle’s house, who I will refer to as Head Hippie going forward.  The Head Hippie and his sister, Mom Hippie, were very close and had lots of fun together.  The parties over there were looooooooonnnng.  We kids had to entertain ourselves sufficiently for extended periods of time, without the luxury of a DS or portable DVD player.  Something my kids would never be able to survive, I’m sure.

I used to lie under the coffee table of Head Hippie’s house and look at this book, Gnomes, by Rien Poortvliet and Wil Huygen.  Every time.  The WHOLE time.  I loved that book.  It detailed both in words and fantastic illustrations the life of a Forest Gnome and every aspect of Gnome existence.  Seriously, it was detailed.  And then Wife Hippie divorced Head Hippie and all parties at that house ceased.  I never knew what happened to that book.  I never saw it again.  Of course all aspects of Gnome life were by that point ingrained in my brain, and I was able to successfully coexist peacefully with the Gnomes I was certain must be living in the woods behind our new house.  In Algonquin, the complete boonies!  You know, because there aren’t a lot of forests in the metropolis that is Hanover Park, IL to feed the imagination in this arena.

A couple of years ago it came up, this book.  I can’t remember why, probably speaking to my daughter about fairies and gnomes and the like.  My husband, in all his wonderful non hippy-ness bought me a lovely reprinted copy of both Gnomes, the book I used to pour over, AND the second volume I don’t even remember seeing entitled Secrets of the Gnomes.  I completely read them from cover to cover so as to relive my childhood, looked longingly out the window at the woods out back, and put them on a bookshelf.

Yesterday in talking about our rat tragedy with a coworker, somehow we got on the subject of children’s books that we love, like The Mouse and the Motorcycle by Beverly Cleary, and fairies (she likes them), and then gnomes (I like them more).  I admit that I’m no expert, but my opinion is that you must pick a side.  Fairies or Gnomes.  It’s like Madonna or Cyndi Lauper, Siskel or Ebert, pudding or jello. Similar, but you have to pick one or the other because they’re just different enough that you can’t like them equally.  It caused me to go home and dig out my Gnomes book again.  I brought it in today to show my friend, mostly to convince her that Gnomes are clearly so much better, probably, but she wasn’t in today.  Dammit!

Clearly these books have had an impact.  Obsessed a little?

Two things this past weekend.  One, the Olympics are officially over, which leaves us at a loss for what to do with our time.  Even if it was over the television, it was nice to come together as a family over something every day for two whole weeks straight!  We’re bummed it’s over.  My husband is concerned in general about the state of the Olympics.  He worries about the IOC’s apparent reluctance to allow the Olympics to be held in any US city in the foreseeable future, and has of course gotten me worried as well.  With that attitude from the IOC, the cost of putting together an Olympic bid package, and the economy, there aren’t a wealth of US cities interested in putting together a bid to host the Olympic Games at this point.  It’s bad.  It makes us sad to think about it.  My husband is good for informing me of these types of depressing yet significant stories he squirrels out of the news.  He’s always got me thinking.  It’s not enough that I have to worry about the state of the planet and our little piece of it on behalf of myself and my children, now I have to think about the state of the Olympics.  You wouldn’t think that the fact that the Olympics won’t be held in the US would really be of any consequence since it is supposed to be a world stage, but the games do need to be fiscally viable for the IOC (as far as I can tell, correct me if I’m wrong), the host city and/or country, and the network who pays the IOC for broadcasting rights, and we are living in an increasingly commercial society (globally, not just in the US) so I could see it being a problem.  Viewers = sponsors = dollars, and dollars talk, especially here in the US.  Americans can also be fickle, so it will be interesting to see how it plays out.  Will Americans continue to watch if the US bids continue to get dismissed?   To me it is troublesome that US cities are not able (willing?) to justify the expense of a bid to host the Olympic games.   So that’s what I’ve been chewing on for a day or so.  Fun, right?  I don’t want to think about  the Olympics or its sell-out commercialism potential any more today.  Let me tell you, for the record, that loving sports for two weeks straight is enough, I am certainly going to enjoy the break for the next couple of years.  You know, because normally I am not what you would call a sports lover.

Second, while we were still in the midst of the Winter Olympic games, and its coverage, and our increasing awareness and sadness that it was coming to an end, we got a punch to the gut of a more personal fashion on Saturday.  My daughter’s beloved pet rat, Diamond, was found to be in an awful state of health suddenly and unexpectedly Saturday morning.  I know that some may not exactly love rodents, but my daughter holds love for all animals, most especially this one.  It was the first and only pet that was “only hers.”  She doted on and cared for and loved that rat more than even I had expected, and in turn Diamond shaped up to be one of the best pets we have every brought into our home.  It came when she called, it sat in her arms to be held and petted and loved, it walked on a leash, and, along with its rat sibling Bean, it excitedly licked her hands like a dog whenever she was kind enough to reach in and take them out of the cage for fun.  This was often.  We spent the weekend tending to Diamond, losing sleep and checking on her incessantly, hoping to see a turnaround in her condition that never came.  Early afternoon Monday we had to come to terms with the fact that we were selfishly allowing her to suffer in hopes of a flicker of a glimpse of recovery and we had to put her to sleep.  A horrible tragedy in an 8 year olds world.  Being social animals, it’s not out of the question for me to believe that Bean is also experiencing loss in her own ratty way.  She did lick my daughter’s hands especially voraciously today when she brought her out of her cage.  I expect she is lonely for her sister, her sleeping companion and cage mate.  Yes, I realize that she was “just a rat” but no there are no “disposable pets” in our world.  We’re gonna miss that rat.

I just couldn’t wait any longer to post.  Yes, technically the Olympics are still in full swing, but it’s been kinda slow, what with the ice dancing and the ski jumping taking up most of the screen time with an occasional bobsled run thrown in for good measure.  In addition, I have some guilt issues.  I know that I haven’t posted, and I didn’t plan to post until after the Olympics, because I truly planned on obsessively watching the Olympics and not doing much else.  What’s interesting about that?  Then every day I think about posting, and how I didn’t.  And then I feel like maybe I should…. but I don’t, which makes me have anxiety, which in turn makes me think about it even more, and worry, and, well…. you know.  It’s a vicious cycle of guilt and worry that I just couldn’t take any more.  And here I am!  You realize that I truly AM my own worst enemy, don’t you?  Thanks for letting me put my crazy on you all for a minute.  Because, like, so many people are out there on pins and needles thinking that their lives just aren’t complete unless I ramble excessively about the Olympics some more!  I know.

On that note, I have completely missed all curling events to date, which kind of ticks me off.  One of my little people told me it was on yesterday but by the time I ran into the room it was already back to Costas yammering on about I-don’t-know-what.  Nothing that I was interested in listening to, that’s what.  OH, and get this!!  I’m not naming any names, but another one of my little people turned off the ACTUAL OLYMPICS to watch that MOVIE about the hockey team who won the gold medal in the OLYMPICS in 1980 at Lake Placid!!  Does that make any sense?  Movies are made to be watched ANY OTHER TIME THAN WHEN THE OLYMPICS ARE AVAILABLE TO BE WATCHED LIVE.  The same rule applies to the Disney channel.  Are you listening, small people?!

Although I love and am obsessively watching the Olympics, I did not want anyone to worry that I was doing absolutely nothing else for the entire two weeks the Olympics are running.  I’m doing stuff.  Like catching pink-eye, for one.  That’s definitely something.  I have also made it to work almost every day.  Not my fault if the school has days off during the Olympics, and I’m forced to stay home.  I’m just sayin’.  I’ve had two MAJOR trees removed from my yard by what turned out to be monkey-men who don’t believe in ladders.  I baked cookies, er, cookie bars.  We got fish, and we named them.  And then there was that one day that I read that you could make regular old popcorn in a plain brown paper lunch bag in the microwave instead of buying microwave popcorn!!!  Yes, it’s true.  I spent a lot of time testing that one out.  A LOT OF TIME.  You know, because we love popcorn with our Olympics.  I almost went ballistic when we missed some of the speed skating because we attended the car show at McCormick Place and got home later than planned.  How many of you were there on the final Saturday of the car show in Chicago?  Did you by chance catch pink eye while you were there?  Sorry, but I touched everything.  You should have kept your fingers out of your eyes, what can I tell you?!

Oh, and I turned this….

And this….

Into this (!!!) …

And went on to make the rest of the space around it look like this….

Alright, and I admit that I watched Survivor.  Because, you know, BOSTON ROB!!  Oh my gosh, I feel so much better.

But in case you haven’t heard, the freaking Olympics are on!!!  The OLYMPICS, people!

And YES, it’s totally on right now.  Of course I’m watching it!  No time for blogging when Lindsay Vonn’s gold is on the line.

Speaking of, we’ve committed to some projects at the house, keeping me away from the computer.  For my part, I decided that the fireplace in the living room absolutely must be painted, because I just could not live on any further with black grout on dark, semi-whitewashed seventies brick.  What really happened is that after years of bitching and moaning and serious and constant badgering, I have worn my husband down.  Besides which, we have five… yes, FIVE different shades of brick in this place and losing our least favorite certainly won’t hurt anyone.  As all improvement projects tend to go, it’s turned into a snowball.  The brick is now AWESOME, but it makes the wall color look weird, so I am trying to repaint the walls.  I never, ever, ever pick paint correctly the first time, so this is a ridiculously unnecessary multi step process teetering far too close to becoming a chemistry experiment than necessary.  I’m considering asking if I could just set up a cot at the home improvement store so that I could just stay.  These additional steps could be easily avoided with a bit of planning, which is not my strongest area, obviously.  I promise that once I have the colors tweaked, the tarps off of the floor, and the room put back together I’ll post some before/during/after shots.

My husband, on the other hand, is working on the basement.  He is inspired by the band jams that my son has now organized for Monday nights, and has begun the long process of finishing the previously partially finished basement.  Step number one included getting the fish tank set up, which was absolutely a non necessity.  Whatever!!!  We have yet to commit to some fish, but the water is moving through the system.  He has since started adding insulation to the concrete walls to try to warm the place up, funded by the money made on ebay selling off the skimmer that came with the tank.  Way to go Craig!!  Left to me, it was all going on freecycle.  It’s amazing the difference a 2″ piece of extruded polystyrene makes to the touch!  I am very excited and looking forward to making a great space down there.  It will double the usable space in the house.

Note to self, remove all beer from the basement fridge, asap.

As a child, my grandparents used to take me fishing.  My husband’s grandparents did the same for him.  Our parents, however, do not do the same for my children.

Through a friend, I heard about the Lake in the Hills Sportsman’s Club Fishing Derby and kids’ clinic in the spring of 2009, and thought it would be a great opportunity to let the kids try their hand at fishing without having to spear a worm myself.  What roped us in was the fact that all of the supplies needed were available to borrow, so all we had to do was show up.   Our plan was to show up for a little bit before moving on to another engagement we had already planned for the day.

The day was so much fun, the volunteers so welcoming, the planning so organized and well executed, and the atmosphere so enthusiastic that we spent the whole day!  I hadn’t brought a camera, since I expected the kids to grow tired of sitting watching a bobber after a few minutes.  I grew to regret that decision when both of my children’s faces beamed after catching the first fish of their entire life!  Luckily one of your volunteers was there to capture the moment for me.

In addition to the great time we had that one day at Barbara Key Park, I wanted to share with you the impact that your event had on my family.  Within days of attending the event, both of my kids were begging to go fishing again.  Family members donated some of their old tackle boxes (along with a few fishing stories to go along with them, another plus), the kids picked out some poles and we bought a couple of reels and fun accessories, along with two fishing licenses for mom and dad.  For days, my kids spent all of their free time casting a lead weight into the imaginary lake from the deck.  They had to perfect their cast, you see, because they had PLANS.

We spent many weekends that summer enjoying our new pasttime of catch and release at a number of McHenry County Conservation District lakes.  Our goal is to fish at every one of them before we circle back and double down on our favorites.  We also plan to incorporate fishing into our camping vacation in the summer of 2010!  None of these activities would have even crossed our minds if your club had not hosted the Fishing Derby for my poor fishing deprived kids.  Well, no more!  Fishing has turned into our least expensive hobby, favorite family outing, and most relaxing (and earliest!) weekend activity, and we only have your club to thank!

Needless to say, we are eagerly anticipating the 2010 Fishing Derby at Barbara Key Park.  We added it to the calendar as soon as we heard the date, and my kids immediately dug out their Sportsman’s Club Fishing Derby t-shirts to wear to school!  They are telling all of their friends what a great time they had, so I hope you have lots of rods available for the newbies.  This year we’ll be bringing our own!

Sincerely,

Rebecca Frank

Fisherwoman Extraordinaire

Why yes, I did actually send this letter!  Have you known that I am a letter writer?  I am not a dissatisfied-with-your-service letter writer (because I am also a boycotter, but that is another story), but I am 100% behind supportive, helpful, positive ‘atta boy letters.  They’re constructive, they are helpful, they make people feel good that their efforts are recognized and appreciated, and they offer positive reinforcement that makes the recipient do more good stuff that I will like!  I put this letter together so that the LITH Sportsman’s Club can feel the love, but since it’s been received I have heard that it will also be used to help to secure sponsorship for their club and future events donations, and possibly in advertising and marketing materials.  I sent it without solicitation, however, they did ask my permission to use it for these other purposes.  Hopefully it will help.  They do some great work in financially supporting conservation of the area’s waterways.  Being a longtime resident of this community, I am keenly aware and supportive of any conservation efforts.  Such a small way to do my part, it is just that easy!

If you knew my grandparents, you’re laughing at that title.  As much time as I spent with them, I wouldn’t exactly say that my memories of them were necessarily as a happy couple.  They were definitely a couple, committed until the end, but happy?  Such a strong word in this context.  Well, go ahead and just take a look at them.

I do admit that grandma is smiling in this one, but they were usually pretty stoic looking.  I don’t remember a ton of smiling and laughter, but maybe that’s just me.  By the time I remember, my grandmother was already having health problems, my grandfather Cal spent most of his time smoking in his recliner.  He had his own issues as well.  They bickered.  I loved them dearly, happy or not.  My grandma Kate would always hold my hand until I fell asleep.  They let me take showers for as long as I wanted.  We drank buttermilk with salt and pepper, and made deep fried donut holes for breakfast rolled in sugar.  She introduced me to the saltine cracker covered in butter and strawberry jelly that my kids have just this past month grown to appreciate.  I sat on the armrest between them in the car, and experienced the first car accident in my memory right there between them.  I always got to pick their ripe tomatoes planted by the fence.  They let me cut the lawn on the riding mower all by myself when I was way too young.  Their house was the half way point on my walk home from school.  They let me watch scary stuff on TV.

They brought the family together.

Today was family day.  Not as in we spent the day doing family stuff together.  Rather, as in my mother in law came to visit with her 88 year old Aunt, and her aunt’s 88 year old friend, and her Aunt’s friend’s younger sister.  Phew!  They only showed up like 2 and 1/2 hours early, no big deal.  Cleaning the bathroom and showering before company arrives is completely over rated.  Later in the day, we made a trip to my step sister’s house for a birthday party for my nephew.  I showered for that, just in case you were worried about it.  The kids love seeing their cousins, and we all had a bit of fun.  We totally stayed late and kept all of the kids up past their bedtime.  They loved it.

Now, I’m attempting (and failing) to concentrate while my husband plays Beck on the Dobro in the kitchen, and my son plays Zeppelin on the Gibson in the family room.  The dining room just isn’t quite far enough away from either room.  I had all these ideas about 20 minutes ago about how this post was going to work out, and they are quickly flying out the bay window as my eyelids get heavier and heavier.  It is almost midnight, after all.  Have I ever mentioned that my husband used to sit on the side of the bed to play the guitar and sing me to sleep sometimes?  This isn’t quite the same thing, but it’s certainly having the same effect.

So long, Saturday!  Tomorrow morning we hit Ikea, first thing.  This should be interesting!