Tuesday, March 28, 2006

wash cycles

once upon a time,

there were 3 new pairs of kakhi pants. these pants were joined in the washing machine by 1 pair of off-white clay colored pleated front pants, a new 'winter' white turtleneck, several white pull-over long sleeved polo shirts, seveal pairs underwear, little boy and mom sized, and assorted socks.

that was once upon a time.

for upon such a time as laundry day, his mother (that would be me)decided to wash the load of whites in hot water and tide with bleach alternative, for whiter whites and brighter brights.

once upon a time,

there was the evil witch of the kingdom of Crayon. and she cursed mom with forgetting to check pockets...(you can see where this is going) and in forgetting to check pockets, i forgot to look for the clues which would solve a coming mystery.

upon that time of transferring the washed clothes into the dryer, mom was cursed with the distraction of sharing the room with leonard skinner, the freaked out cat, and trying to protect the laundry from a spray of cat litter and fear.

the clothes went into the dryer white and came out christmas colored. a red crayon and green crayon met and married in the dryer--and their offspring populated the world domain of the dryer...all over the whites. and natalie's new kakhi pants...

at the bottom of the dryer was an assortment of other treasures...paper clips, dice, pencil stubs, erasers, wood chips, rocks, gum wrappers, a barrette, a matchbox car wheel and bits of paper.

and the kingdom did mourn the passing of the white garments. yet it seems that the homage paid was not a price high enough, for upon the replacement of said shirts and kahki pants, yet again, did the curse of the red crayon visit the load of laundry 4 days later...and again, natalie's pants bore the offspring...(talk about hairy eyeballs...)

we did manage to get the crayon out of the dryer crevices...and by 'we', i mean natalie...and we managed to save the second pair of pants by scrubbing (heloise tip here) the stains on both sides with wd-40, then scrubbing well with dish soap and washing in the machine yet again, but avoiding the dryer...

the pants did come out of this beating whole...

and there was much rejoicing...

Wednesday, March 22, 2006


my 7 year old has been a trooper through this whole divorce process...i thought that we were over the worst of it and that he understood that my ex and i were not together anymore...

but day before yesterday he came to me at breakfast and asked me 'if two people divorce, can they get remarried to each other?' long pause while i gathered my thoughts.

'yes honey. they can. but i don't think that's what's going to happen with your dad and me. he's going to marry miss kari.'

he said 'i know mommy. i just wish we could be together again.'

DRAT the fool! he's sleeping with her in front of the boy. i would like to shake some sense into him--LOOK what you're doing to your KID!!!

my poor baby--i just want to shield him from stupidity...

Monday, March 13, 2006

shut yer yap!

i am officially venting.

i settled down tonight to surf the news sites while i waited for my son to shower so i could put him to bed. when i opened the google news site, i saw another headline bearing pat robertson's name.


the man does not know when to shut his yap. he says things that i find so offensive, i am incredulous. HOW does what he says exemplify the kingdom of heaven?! i know what he says he stands for, but how often does he go off half-cocked, ill-advised and stirs up a world he evidently knows little about?

whenever he says something as of late, it seems all he does is make it harder for the missionaries on the field to accomplish their work. lemme list a few of his latest foibles.

Monday, on his live news-and-talk program "The 700 Club", he is reported as saying that Islam is not a religion of peace, and that radical Muslims are "satanic." with the furor that just died down over the cartoons, why say this now to stir people up again? the islamic community is full of people who have high passion and solidarity, as evidenced by weeks of rioting and destruction for the cartoon offense.

in its most simple form, you could say the event was an excuse for trouble, but seriously, people, the islamic community is huge and religious passion is no observer of border.

robertson has also come under intense scrutiny and criticism in recent months for comments suggesting that American agents should assassinate Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, which resulted New Tribes Mission being forced to pull its missionary teams out of the tribal areas. the end result was the careless remarks cost YEARS in kingdom building.

robertson also gaffed over Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's stroke, calling it 'divine retribution' for Israel's pullout from the Gaza Strip. regardless of personal feeling, isn't there a better way to research the events and respond or call people to action?

if you're gonna be a catalyst, at least arm people with the truth.

otherwise...shut yer yap.

one of those images...

that will NOT leave me alone.

ever run across something that tickles your funnybone and you don't buy it, but just can't stop thinking about it?

i have. i wish i had bought it. i ran across a watercolor of a camel recently on a daytrip in saugatuck. found it in a little gallery that had a mish mash of items--it was in a bin of watercolors of animals--zebra, horses, sheep, and this one of a camel.

camels are ugly critters--stubborn and they look like they smell BAAAAAD. this artist had done a pictoral 'how to'--the piece was entitled 'how to tweet your camel's nose' and i burst out laughing as i looked at it.

it was a beautiful rendering of the camel's face, a hand pinching its nostrils shut, and the resulting whistle shaped holes the camel produced as it tried to breathe. i suspect it was a trick to get a bridle in the camel's mouth, as it's a similar trick used on horses.

but it was funny. ugly. ridiculously irreverent...and well-crafted for $15. well. to the artist who created that--THANK YOU. tho i regret not purchasing it, it remains an image firmly stuck in my head and one that makes me laugh everytime i think on it.

thanks for a lovingly warm look at a stubborn, ungracious creature...i know there's an object lesson in there somewhere....

Friday, March 10, 2006

wondertwin powers!!!


shape of: little boy! form of: WATER!

that's my boy today at school. the kids were supposed to dress up as a character from a book they read.

well, my kid read a science book about water and hydropower. so, he went to school as a waterfall. no really. blue turtleneck, blue pants and a blue fishnet draped over his shoulders.

it started out with a skeleton request, which then moved into a bumblebee request, but, you understand, when such things are coming at bedtime, one can only make do so much. the fabulous ungkl pol and i tried talking him into dressing as a ninja cuz he read a book about ninja from the magic tree house--and he was a ninja for halloween...no such luck. absolutely refused to be a ninja.

opted to be 'water' instead. i spent much of my evening trying to figure out how to make a 'water' costume out of plastic wrap and tinfoil. UNFORTUNATELY, it wouldn't last through the day, so i had to come up with another option.

FORTUNATELY, we had just had a 'cast-away' party as a family in celebration of matthew's cast coming off this week. luau theme--you can see where this is going.

UNFORTUNATELY, we nearly tore the ceiling light apart trying to get the fishnet off.

FORTUNATELY, it came off in one piece...and the light was intact.

UNFORTUNATELY, the netting could be considered a choking hazard on the playground.

FORTUNATELY, matthew hates extraneous accessories like coats, gloves, scarves, hats, boots, clothes, in general.

UNFORTUNATELY, i suspect the netting will be lost after having been part of our household for 24 hours.

FORTUNATELY, my kid will be alive.

and as he traipsed off to class this morning, i saw him bump knuckles with a friend--a greeting of sorts that prompted the 'wondertwin' flashback...

that's my story, and i'm stickin' to it.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006


i dropped a note to my old pastor in jackson. just let him know what had happened since last we met--pastor leo cumings--i thank you for your influence and for your mentorship.

he counseled us and married us. i just thought i needed to drop him a note to let him know what has happened in the 9 years' interim. and you know what?

his comment 'this is not how it was supposed to be' rings so true. a bit of vindication, and teaching--

in this life, and on this earth, this is not how it was supposed to be...but it is, and God can still salvage the situation for His purpose and glory.

if you come by my desk today, you may hear the strains of 'o! for a thousand tongues to sing!' eminating from my head. cuz that's what's dancing around in there now.

Friday, March 03, 2006

new civilizations

it's pretty much a done deal--we entered our settlement on record yesterday and dissolved the state of our union.

sounds cold and calculating considering all the crap that's associated with such a matter--but then again, considering all the crap that led to our divorce, distance is not such a bad thing.

i look back at earlier posts around d-day and i marvel at how far God has brought me--these last couple years have been my ebeneezer--God has brought me this far--and when i can't see His hand, i can look back and see the handholds and footholds in a sheer rock face.

it's a journey--becoming who i am today. in spite of the horrific pain of the last 9 years, i can say i would not change a thing in the circumstances that surrounded me. the only thing i would have changed, if i could have, would have been my response.

at the same time, wouldn't that have changed my circumstance? that's an unknown--the variable in that instance may not have even noted any change in response. but knowing who i am today--i like that me--far better than the me i was when i was a teenager, or a college student, a career woman or even a newlywed.

i can see growth--i have the scars to prove i am not who i was--and that,my friend, is a far, far better thing.

closing the door on one chapter of my life and moving forward lightspeed to ardent hope.

Monday, February 27, 2006

sunday rhythms

spent yesterday afternoon with the Helms' family...a family that has befriended family and taken us under their wing.

arlene made a killer glazed ham for lunch.. and in the interim period where we all waited for the food to settled down enough to cram some ice cream in, paul, fred (their son) and i went into the basement for some fun.

paul played the drums, fred the guitar...and i got handed the djembe hand drum--kinda like a conga drum. now--i got it by default cuz i was down there--not cuz i play well. but the number of times i join the rhythm circles and attempt to keep up means that paul likes to play with me.

so fred hits a few cords, paul starts a rhythm and i hop in where i think it's time. didn't embarass myself too badly--but at the same time, the thought occurred to me that i wasn't playing the accent, i was playing with the bass drum--or with the tomtom--and the djembe has such a unique voice, that it really should sing solo counterpoint to othe main rhythm.

try as i might, i could not do it. the guys in ocean blue make it sound so easy. all i succeeded in doing was confusing fred and paul. or myself...mostly myself. i was using all the wrong phonetic tones--but i suppose that's because i barely knew what i was doing.

fun as it was, i was relieved when we stopped. so, i think, were those upstairs being subjected to 'stairway to heaven' in 4 different keys. (sorry freddles) always fun. reminds me of the time paul and i found the rhythm room at the COSI museum in toledo. we each grabbed a pair of sticks and worked out point and counterpoint in multiple tones in the room.

drew a small audience--but i can tell u this--i had very little to do with it--the whole thing was driven by paul--and i was doing my best not to screw it up. but it's enough that i don't have the sense to quit.

metamorphise in the north and hope one day not to crash in the rhythm and the rhyme of sunday afternoon.